True Blue Cowboy (The Cash Brothers)

by Marin Thomas

  He glanced up, his brown eyes devoid of emotion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Us...together at the ranch.” She scuffed the toe of her athletic shoe against the floor. “I’ll tell Dave that I’m leaving in the morning.”

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “But you don’t want me here.” She’d find some other place to hole up. Maybe even return to the El Rancho Motel and rent the same room she and Mack had slept in. It would serve her right after going off the deep end and celebrating her divorce with a night of hot sex with a stranger. That ingenious plan sure had backfired.

  “You’re right,” he said. “But this is Dave’s ranch. He can invite whoever he wants here. Even women I’ve had sex with.”

  Beth’s gut twisted. “I can explain...” I think.

  “No need. I get it. You were out for sex and—”

  She gasped.

  “What?”

  “You don’t have to be so crude,” she said.

  “I call it like I see it. You dolled yourself up then set your sights on me. After you got what you wanted, you walked away without a backward glance.”

  Miffed, she planted her hands on her hips. “And I see it like this... You approached me in the bar and unlike my husband, I at least waited for my divorce to become final before I took a walk on the wild side.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the reason I dolled myself up was because men like you never give women like me a second glance.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She spread her arms wide. “When it comes to passion and desire I’m no man’s fantasy.”

  “You don’t think very highly of yourself.”

  She would have fled, if her only escape route hadn’t been blocked by six feet of wide-shouldered cowboy. “I think we should—”

  “Pretend that night never happened.”

  Forgetting her evening with Mack was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t dare tell him that unless she cared to keep torturing herself.

  “Fine,” he said. “We’ll act as if we never met before.”

  Beth didn’t know if he was serious or if his bruised ego was talking. Ego aside, how were they supposed to act as if they were strangers—they’d touched and kissed each other in places strangers wouldn’t dare.

  He thrust his hand toward her. Warily she placed her fingers on his callused palm. Her chest tightened at the tiny electrical pulses that skittered up her arm. Now she knew she hadn’t imagined that sensation the night in the motel—only it hadn’t been their hands rubbing together that had created the electrifying feeling.

  His fingers folded over her hand and squeezed gently. “Mack Cash. I’m from Stagecoach and I work as a wrangler at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch. I also play in a country-and-western band called the Cowboy Rebels.”

  He wasn’t joking. “I’m Beth Richards and I used to work for Biker and Donavan as an investment counselor. I’m recently divorced and in the process of deciding whether or not I want to remain in Yuma or move away.”

  The corner of Mack’s mouth lifted in a semblance of a smile. “Nice to meet you, Beth. I hope we can be friends.”

  This was foolish, but she was at a loss when it came to Mack. “Same here.”

  He released her hand and she resisted curling her fingers into her palm to trap his warmth from escaping. He tipped his hat then left the storage room. Mack strolled through the barn, forcing one foot in front of the other until he stepped into the sun.

  “You ’n’ that filly set things straight?”

  “It’s none of your business, Hoss.” He hated shutting the old man out but Mack was too confused about his feelings for Beth. Until he knew exactly what he felt for her, he didn’t care for anyone’s advice.

  “I don’t think Millie’ll be back.”

  “Millie has it good with the boss.” Even though there was a ten-year age difference between the housekeeper and sixty-eight-year-old Dave Paxton, when Mack had seen the couple together, they’d appeared happy.

  “So you don’t wanna talk about that missy in the barn, eh?” Hoss said.

  “Nope.”

  “She’s watchin’ us right now.”

  Mack stiffened but didn’t check over his shoulder. “You won’t quit nagging unless you know everything, will you?”

  “Figure it’s only a matter of time before you spill your guts.”

  “I met Beth at a bar last month. At least I think it was Beth.”

  “You ain’t sure?”

  “She was all sexed up and on the prowl.”

  “You didn’t take advantage of that poor gal, did you?”

  Mack scowled. If anyone had been taken advantage of, it had been him. Now that a few weeks had passed and Mack had reflected on that night, he admitted that he’d genuinely liked Beth—probably because she hadn’t acted like any buckle bunny he’d been out with before. She hadn’t been drunk, boisterous or even giggly. And when he’d looked into her eyes there had been intelligence and maturity—qualities that had been missing from the other sloe-eyed beauties he’d hooked up with in the past. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like?” Hoss asked.

  “There was something different about her, and when the evening ended I asked for her number.”

  “She didn’t give it to you.”

  “Nope.”

  When Hoss grinned, Mack growled. “What the hell’s so funny?”

  “She’s the first lady who hasn’t succumbed to your cowboy charm.”

  “Succumbed? You’re using pretty big words, Hoss.”

  “Whatcha gonna do?”

  “Nothing.” Beth made it clear that she wasn’t interested in cozying up with him during her stay at the dude ranch.

  “You gonna let a decent woman like her get away without a fight?”

  “If she was so decent, she wouldn’t have pretended to be someone she wasn’t.”

  “Maybe she had a good reason.”

  Lack of self-confidence wasn’t good enough in Mack’s book. And it didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t wanted him to contact her after they’d had fun at the motel. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Change her mind.”

  “What’s with you?” Mack frowned. “Why do you care about my love life?”

  “’Cause you’ve been a big mope lately.”

  “A man can take a moment to think, can’t he?”

  “He can.” Hoss spat tobacco juice on the ground. “But there’s a time for thinkin’ and a time for doin’.” He nodded to the barn. “This is a time for doin’.”

  Doing what? Mack was so dang confused right now he didn’t know which way was up or down. He was pissed at Beth for using him, and even though she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in extending their one-night stand, the gnawing in his gut insisted he still wanted to be with her.

  So where did that leave him?

  Between being a fool and an idiot.

  Chapter Three

  “Fine. We’ll pretend we’ve never met before.” Beth mimicked Mack’s deep voice as she hiked along the walking path.

  She was at a loss as to how to deal with the country-and-western cowboy. She’d never had a male friend and found the idea intriguing, but Mack wasn’t the kind of man a woman could be friends with—not after she’d seen and touched every inch of his naked flesh.

  She conjured up a likeness of him lounging in the motel bed and...

  “Look out!”

  Startled, Beth stopped walking and glanced up. Good Lord, another few steps and she would have collided with a saguaro cactus. She turned and discovered Mack standing several yards behind her—he’d sneaked up on her without making a sound. “I was hiking.” Duh. Hoping to distract him
so he wouldn’t ask why she’d almost walked into a cactus, she said, “It’s warm today.”

  He closed the gap between them. “The weatherman forecasted unseasonably warm temps until the end of next week.”

  “Well, eighty-five degrees in January is too hot, even for Arizona.” Why were they discussing the weather? Because that’s what friends do. Flustered, she focused on the canyon in the distance and ignored the sultry scent of his cologne.

  “Dave wanted me to tell you that we’re taking Roger Kline and his executives on a horseback ride and eating supper on the trail. José left with the chuck wagon a few minutes ago. Since there won’t be a formal meal in the dining room, you’re invited to join us.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to interfere in an all-guys outing.” She’d met the CEO of Kline Properties and his minions when they’d moved into the cabins next to hers.

  Mack took off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair—hair that had felt silky to the touch when she’d held his head steady while she’d kissed him. “I’m bringing my guitar along.”

  After parting ways last month, Beth had listened to country-and-western radio stations, hoping to find a singer whose voice reminded her of Mack’s, but none of them had carried a tune quite like the lead singer of the Cowboy Rebels.

  “C’mon, Beth. You’ve barricaded yourself inside your cabin every night this week.”

  Barricaded? She’d hoped that by keeping to herself, her infatuation with him would wear off. The way her heart pounded right now indicated that her plan had failed. To be honest, she was tired of staring at the same four walls. What could it hurt to socialize with the ranch guests for a couple of hours? And she’d also like to hear Mack sing again.

  “Okay. I’ll join the group for supper.”

  His smile sucked the air out of her lungs. Was he really that pleased she’d agreed to go? No, he’s just being friendly. He put on his hat and walked off.

  This friends thing bugged the heck out of Beth. Although tempting, a friendship with Mack Cash would be a bad investment. She’d give their companionship all her effort and energy but in the end she’d be left alone.

  Beth returned to her cabin and showered. Deciding what to wear was easy. She’d packed jeans she’d purchased years ago—the denim wasn’t as fancy as the pair she’d worn to the Number 10—no bling—but they were comfortable and she could sit on a horse in them. Besides, looking sexy was way down on her list of priorities, as was picking up men or picking up where she and Mack had left off.

  Her first priority was figuring out which direction her life was headed.

  * * *

  “THESE ARE THE BEST damned beans I’ve eaten in years.” Roger Kline glanced at Beth. “Pardon my swearing, ma’am.”

  “No worries.” Beth smiled.

  “José’s the finest ranch cook in southern Arizona,” Mack said.

  “He sure is quiet.” Gerald, a balding man with a potbelly, helped himself to more beans.

  When Mack hired on at the dude ranch, Dave had informed him that José didn’t know a word of English, but Mack sensed the camp cook understood more than he let on. Mack sat on a log in front of the fire and shoveled another forkful of barbecue into his mouth, while he watched Beth out of the corner of his eye. At first he was glad she hadn’t backed out of the group supper—he’d wanted to prove to himself that after a one-night stand they could still be friends. But now he regretted her presence.

  He’d been positive he’d had it all figured out—why Beth had stuck in his craw after only one night together. For the past year, Mack had been losing interest in playing the field—hot dates with hot chicks was becoming old, but he hadn’t found a woman he’d consider dating exclusively. When Beth had waltzed into the bar, he’d assumed she was another hot chick.

  Not until they’d slept together had he realized there was something different about her—an innocence that hadn’t matched her clothes, hair or makeup. When he’d held her in his arms, he’d sensed she wasn’t at all like the other women he’d been with. He’d wanted to get to know Beth better, but he’d woken the next morning alone in the motel room. It had been a hell of a blow to his ego that she’d left without a goodbye.

  He’d sat on the edge of the bed feeling disenchanted with the singles scene. His thirtieth birthday was eight months away and he’d hoped by then to be with a woman who would stand by his side through thick and thin. A woman he could build a home with. Have a family with. Grow old with.

  He’d left the motel that morning determined to find his forever girl but he hadn’t been able to forget Beth and her dolled-up image. And now he knew why he’d been so torn over her—Beth Richards was no buckle bunny. She was a forever girl who’d fallen off the wagon for one night.

  Right then Beth laughed at one of the guest’s jokes and Mack’s gut churned with anger—mostly at himself. She’d used him and had made it clear she wasn’t interested in pursuing a long-term relationship, but damned if he still didn’t want her.

  And that pissed him off.

  “You gonna play a song for us, Mack, or sit there and scowl at the fire?” Dave asked.

  “Sorry.” Mack bolted from the log and reached for his guitar. “You caught me thinking.”

  “Judging by the look on your face,” Dave said, “you’ve either got money troubles or woman troubles.”

  The men laughed while Beth scraped her beans into a neat little pile on her tin plate.

  “How about a Garth Brooks song.” Mack strummed a few notes of “Cowboy Bill” then belted out the lyrics, his mixed emotions about Beth lending strength to his voice. He didn’t have to look at her to know she paid attention—the side of his face burned from her stare.

  Ted, the eldest of Kline’s executives, sang along, and the other men slapped their thighs in rhythm to the music until the final verse.

  Gerald clapped loudly and whistled between his teeth. “You’ve got quite a voice, Mack Cash.”

  “Is it true,” Al said, “your mother named you after Merle Haggard?”

  Mack shot Dave a dark look and his boss held up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me.”

  “Jake mentioned it when he took us skeet shooting the other day,” Al said.

  Fortunately for Jake, he had the weekend off or Mack would make the wrangler pay. “It’s true. My five brothers and I all got saddled with famous monikers.”

  “His eldest brother is Johnny Cash,” Dave said.

  The executives laughed then Roger spoke. “Is Cash your real surname?”

  “Cash was my mother’s maiden name. She never married any of our fathers.”

  “Fathers?” Paul, the quietest in the group joined the conversation.

  “Each of my brothers has a different father, so my mother put her surname on our birth certificates.”

  “What are the names of your infamous brothers?” Roger asked.

  “Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Buck Owens, Conway Twitty and Porter Wagoner.”

  Al shook his head. “I bet it was tough to live down those handles when you were young.”

  “You’d bet right.” Mack grinned. “Johnny stood up for us until we were old enough to fight our own battles.”

  “Are you the only singer in the family?” Ted asked.

  “Yep. Johnny’s the foreman of his father-in-law’s ranch. Will works construction, and Conway manages the family pecan farm. Buck moved to Lizard Gulch, a small town near Kingman, and he runs an auto body shop with his wife. Porter is still finding himself.”

  “With a voice like that,” Roger said “you must have more women after you than you know what to do with.”

  Beth stood. “I’ll help José clean up.” She vanished behind the wagon.

  Roger lowered his voice. “I get a kick out of the way that gal blushes.”

  “D
idn’t see a ring on her finger,” Al whispered.

  The hairs on the back of Mack’s neck stood on end. Roger and his four executives all wore wedding bands. They’d better not get the idea that Beth was available for a fling during their stay—she wasn’t that kind of girl.

  She was that kind of girl with you.

  Dave cleared his throat. “Beth’s the daughter of my old college buddy.”

  “What does she do for a living?” Al asked.

  For a married man, Al showed too much interest in Beth.

  “Beth works for an investment firm.” Dave removed the coffeepot from the fire and refilled everyone’s cup. “She’s enjoying a short break from corporate America.”

  “You mind if I ask her to review my stock portfolio?” Al nodded toward the chuck wagon. “I’d like her opinion on a couple of investments.”

  Portfolio, my ass. Mack fisted his hand then rubbed his knuckles against his thigh to keep from throwing a punch at the man. Later tonight he’d warn Beth to keep her guard up with Al and the others.

  “My guests are free to do what they want here,” Dave said.

  Right then Beth returned to the campfire. “Everything’s packed and ready to go.”

  “Beth.” Al got to his feet. The middle-aged man was in decent shape but Mack doubted he’d ever fought over a woman before. “I hear you have investment experience. Would you mind meeting with me to discuss my stocks?”

  “Beth is busy tomorrow.” Mack stood.

  Al glanced between Beth and Mack, uncertain what to say.

  Beth avoided making eye contact with Mack. “I’d be happy to meet with you before supper.”

  Dave clapped his hands. “Let’s head back.”

  The men set their empty coffee cups in the dishpan on the wagon’s sideboard then walked to their horses. When Beth did the same, Mack made a move to go after her but Dave snagged his arm.

  “What was all that?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Dave narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on between you and Beth?”

  “Nothing. Why?”