Promise Me, Cowboy (Copper Mountain Rodeo)

by CJ Carmichael

  A minute later she spotted the first of the cows, two black baldies and their calves grazing in a green pocket behind some white pine. She pointed them out to Dawson so he could do the work of flushing them out. Her father had been smart to pair him with old Pinstripes. The dappled gray knew exactly what to do, and Dawson returned from the task with his eyes bright. “Damn, this is fun.”

  They were too busy to do much talking after that.

  About six hours later, they met the rest of the riders at the back of the range. They had the beginnings of their herd now and it was time to push forward.

  “Where’s your All-Around Cowboy, Sage?” her father asked.

  Sage hadn’t realized she’d lost him. She looked at the trail behind her but didn’t see any sign of Dawson.

  “Time’s a-wasting, girl. He better not be taking photographs or some foolish—”

  He stopped talking then as Dawson emerged from a scrub of pines, pushing a bawling heifer calf toward the herd. Almost immediately the mother separated herself from the others and came to greet her.

  Sage smiled. Well done, Dawson. But of course her father gave no praise, just nodded, and got on with the business of moving the cattle.

  By the time they made it back to the ranch it was almost seven and the light was getting thin. Sage felt bone weary as she filled the grain bags for Cinnamon Girl and Pinstripes. While she was doing that, Dawson lifted off the saddle for her and took it to the tack room. He came back, impressed.

  “This is quite the outfit, your family ranch. Some of those saddles are valuable antiques. I bet they’re worth as much as a small car.”

  “And they get great mileage, too, since they run on a little hay and some oats.”

  He pushed her shoulder playfully, then they walked together to the side door. They had to wait in line for a chance to wash up in the mudroom, and the good smells coming from the kitchen had her stomach rumbling.

  “Hi, Daddy. Hi Sage.” Savannah was there to greet them, looking perfectly content and holding a picture she’d colored for her father. While he admired the drawing of horses and mountains, she kept chatting. “I made some friends and helped the ladies in the kitchen. Did you move the cows?”

  “We sure did. It was a lot of fun.” He smiled at Sage, before letting his daughter lead him to the buffet table where a full roast beef dinner was waiting for them. Not just succulent sliced beef, but also gravy and horseradish, mashed potatoes and carrots and turnips. And a big salad, which most of the cowboys didn’t touch.

  Sage checked in with Callan to see how she was faring. “You’re used to this,” she said. “My legs and butt are going to be killing me tomorrow.”

  “What can I say, you’re getting soft.” Callan helped herself to loads of the vegetables and the salad. It was an unspoken understanding among all the sisters that she was a vegetarian, but the unspoken part was key because if she dared say such a thing aloud their father would surely have a heart attack.

  “So your cowboy did good today,” Callan said when they had found a seat around the spacious dining room table.

  “Not mine.”

  “Could have fooled me. You stuck pretty close to him today.”

  “Just didn’t want him getting into Dad’s crosshairs.” Which was kind of ironic, when she thought about it.

  “Isn’t that sweet. But I have a feeling Dawson will have no trouble handling our father.”

  After Sage had finished her second helping, plus a slice of chokecherry pie, Savannah suddenly appeared in front of her. “We have to go home now. Daddy says I should say thank you, even though it was the other ladies who watched over me and made me my meals.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t do much, did I?”

  “You helped move the cows,” Savannah said, defending her. “Your hair is pretty. Does it grow that color or do you have to go to the shop like my grandma?”

  “It grows this way.”

  “Stop chattering, Savannah, it’s time to go home.” Dawson came round the corner then, scooping up his daughter.

  Savannah laughed, then snuggled into his shoulder.

  “You must be tired. It’s been a long day,” he said.

  Sage walked out to the driveway with them. Watched as Dawson snapped Savannah into her seat, then planted a kiss on her head. For a rough-and-ready cowboy he was proving to be an amazing dad. But the tenderness in his expression vanished when he turned to face Sage.

  All signs of the easy friendship they’d settled into today were gone.

  “It was a great day, Sage. I half expected to see my boss out here, though.”

  She glanced away, unwilling to admit that she’d used her ex-boyfriend as a ruse. She still didn’t know why she’d done it. If today had proven anything, it was that she still loved Dawson.

  She knew he felt the same way.

  Yet, how did you go about trusting someone who had let you down so badly?

  “Don’t worry,” Dawson said. “I understand this day doesn’t change anything between us.”

  And then he left. And she stood there, heart aching with the burden of all the unsaid words between them.

  Instead of going back to the house, which was still full of cowboys and their families, Sage headed for the horse barn, calling out for her father, then finding him in the tack room, oiling one of his favorite saddles.

  He’d never been comfortable in large, social settings. But she wished he would at least sit down to rest. “Aren’t you tired, Dad?”

  “It was a big day. Got me thinking about my old man and all the times we worked together moving cattle.”

  The saddle, she realized then, was the practically antique one that had belonged to her grandfather. Her father didn’t often talk about his past. But she knew he’d adored his father. Maybe that was why he’d been so set on having a son—so he could have a similar relationship with one of his own children.

  It hurt to know that he didn’t consider any of his daughters worthy of the effort.

  But that was an old sorrow. One Sage hoped she had come to terms with.

  “Dad, if you knew Mom was having an affair, why didn’t you ask her to leave?”

  He winced. “Does this have something to do with that damn history of the Brambles?”

  “No. You don’t want to help Eliza and I get that.”

  “Then why bring your mother up now?”

  “You think there’ll ever be a better time?”

  He gave one of his characteristic rough hrumphs.

  “So why didn’t you, Dad? Ask her to leave?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “But—" Actually it seemed that way to her. “It was a pretty big betrayal.”

  “There are worse, believe it or not.” He straightened, putting a hand to his lower back.

  She took the rag from him, added a bit of oil, and started working on the old leather. “I’m not sure what could be worse.”

  Her dad perched on one of the sawhorses, settling his weight with a heavy sigh. “Did you stop to think what Bill was talking about the other night when he said I had a lot to answer for?”

  “I didn’t think he meant much by it.”

  “Well, he did. When your mother was young, she had a lot of fellows trying to court her—Bill and me included. She was a real beauty, and boy could she dance. For some reason she picked me, but I guess she soon regretted that. She was a town girl, had no clue about ranch living. I figured she’d adjust, but she didn’t. I think she was awful unhappy out here, Sage. And to be perfectly honest, there were times I wish I’d married a more ordinary woman.”

  He was telling her that her parents’ marriage hadn’t been perfect. But lots of marriages weren’t. “It was her choice to marry you.”

  “Yup. And she lived with the consequences.”

  “But the affair...”

  “Another choice. And more consequences. You want to know what troubles me more than that? Knowing your mother was scared to death when she was out in that b
arn helping me pull that calf out of that cow. I should have made her leave, but I didn’t. Yet another choice. And look where that one led.”

  His face was gray now, his shoulders more stooped than they’d seemed fifteen minutes ago. Sage stopped buffing the leather and went to join him on his perch. “It was an accident. Not your fault.”

  “That’s taking the easy way out. I made a bad call. It happens. People aren’t perfect. You should realize this at your age.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I take it Mr. All-around is the reason you’re asking all these questions.”

  She stared down at the tips of her worn riding boots. She’d never told her father that Dawson was married. But clearly he’d picked up on the tension between them. “Maybe.”

  He sighed. “First time I saw him, at that hospital in Wyoming, I figured he was bad news.”

  “You saw him at the hospital?”

  “You were already in the truck. I’d gone back to sign some papers. I heard him at the front desk asking for you.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “Like I said, he looked like bad news. However,” her father added slowly. “After seeing him at the round-up today, I do believe I’ve changed my mind.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  On Saturday it occurred to Sage that with all the drama of Dawson coming back to town, she hadn’t checked in with Jenny or Chelsea for a really long time. What kind of friend was she? Poor Jenny was probably still all choked up about the aborted wedding.

  As for Chelsea—was it really possible she was in the midst of a hot and heavy affair with that rich , bad-boy, oil magnate from California?

  Sage sent them both text messages to see if they were free for the evening. They hadn’t had a girls’ night out in a while.

  Jenny was the first to answer, with just a brief “busy.” What the heck was that about?

  Next to report in was Chelsea. “Have a hot date, but I’m two blocks away. Will stop in to say hi.”

  “Great,” Sage texted back. Hot date, huh? Seemed like the rumors were actually well founded. She sighed, not sure if she should be concerned... or jealous. She watched out the window until she caught sight of Chelsea, long blonde hair swinging freely, dressed in a flirty skirt that was much shorter than her usual style.

  The man beside her was hard-core handsome. He bent to give Chelsea the kind of kiss that didn’t belong on Main Street, Marietta, then disappeared down the block. Chelsea opened the door, and stepped inside, still looking like a woman who’d been thoroughly kissed.

  “I can’t believe it. So the talk around town is true?”

  Chelsea’s flush deepened. “I can’t seem to stop myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m making the biggest mistake of my life. But I’ve never felt so happy. Or alive.”

  Sage smiled, happy for her friend, but a little worried too. “That’s Jasper Flint, right? Is he in town for long?”

  “Yes. As in permanently.”

  “Really?” Sage didn’t want to be skeptical. But— “The guy has a reputation on a national scale.”

  “Jasper has found his home here. He really has.”

  “So you think it’s possible for people to change?”

  “I think it’s possible for them to grow.”

  Interesting perspective. “Well, I’m glad for you Chels. You look amazing. Have you talked to Jenn lately? I haven’t had a good talk with her since her wedding fell apart.”

  “She won’t admit it, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Colton Thorpe.”

  “No.” Had her best friends both come down with rodeo fever this year? First Chelsea and Jasper Flint. Now Jenny and the rodeo guest chair? “I saw him in the bull riding event. My sisters were drooling over him.”

  “He’s hot, all right. But unlike Jasper, he doesn’t live in Montana anymore and he’s real clear he has no plans on moving back.”

  “I hope Jenny isn’t setting herself up for more heartache.” Sage thought about that brief text message. “Busy.” Now she knew doing what.

  Chelsea picked out a box of caramels. “While I’m here I might as well indulge Jasper’s sweet tooth.” She leaned over the counter as Sage quickly processed the transaction. “And how about you? Anything new?”

  Sage felt bowed by the pressure of all she was holding back in her heart. She longed to confide the entire story to her friend.

  How five years ago a cowboy had stolen her heart before she realized he was married. She’d tried to forget him—but he was back. And he’d changed and matured. As Chelsea would say, he’d grown.

  But she’d pushed him away, even though she still loved him.

  And now she was afraid that she’d hurt him too much for him to give her a second chance. All from a flash of ugly anger. A desire to hurt him the way he’d hurt her.

  “I spent most of my weekend either working or with my family. Matt and Dani were in town for the weekend.”

  “Nice. Sorry I missed them.” Chelsea picked up her chocolates. “I’d better run. We’ll get together soon, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Once Chelsea was gone—back to the lover who was undoubtedly more delicious than the chocolates she’d just purchased for him—Sage felt more alone than ever. Callan and her father were busy separating this year’s weanlings for market. And Dani was away on a conference in Australia.

  At lunch time, hoping she would catch Mattie in the house, rather than outside working with the horses, Sage placed a call to her oldest sister.

  Mattie answered after the first ring, as if she’d been hovering over the phone. “Is everything okay? I don’t usually hear from you in the middle of the day.”

  “We’re all fine,” Sage reassured her. “I just thought I’d mention something interesting that happened last week. Eliza Bramble invited me in for coffee. Turns out she’s writing a book about the Bramble family history and she’s hoping for access to Mom’s old papers, letters, that sort of thing.”

  “Maybe there’s some in those boxes in his closet?”

  “Yeah, I thought of those, too. But when I asked dad if we could check them out, he shut me right down.”

  “Well, you know how he hates that side of the family.”

  “I do.” Sage hesitated. “Did you and Dani ever sneak a look in those boxes?”

  “When Mom was still alive we used to go play with her make-up and jewelry—remember?”

  “Oh, I sure do.” Though she’d never done it again since that last, awful time.

  “But after she died, Dad threw out the make-up and gave away her clothes. I never felt right going in their room again. I’m pretty sure Dani was the same.”

  “So we have no idea what’s in those remaining boxes. I just got the impression from Great Aunt Mable and Eliza that they think Mom might have had something important hidden away. Could there be some big family secret we don’t know about?”

  “Like what?” Mattie laughed. “Just tell Eliza we don’t have anything left of Mom’s and leave it at that.

  “I will,” Sage agreed. What choice did she have? “So, how are you doing? Are the girls enjoying college?”

  “I guess. I hardly hear from Stephanie—I hope she isn’t partying too much. Wren texts me about ten times a day. I worry she’s lonely.” Mattie’s voice trembled

  “You must miss them. Is Wes around these days?”

  Mattie didn’t answer for several seconds, and when she did, she sounded like she was trying not to cry. “No. But I can’t talk about him right now. It makes me—"

  “Mattie...” It was awful being so far away, not able to give her sister a hug, or have a proper conversation.

  “I’m okay. You just caught me at a bad time.”

  But when the call was over Sage couldn’t help wondering if Mattie was having any good times these days.

  Sage spent the rest of her weekend making chocolates. She pulled out the molds for her Halloween treats—solid pumpkins in dark, milk and white chocolate. Also witches, ghosts and black
cats.

  Each mold was filled with her own special blended chocolate, then set aside to cool before packaging.

  The work was repetitious and soothing.

  She found herself thinking a lot about her mom. Had she regretted her marriage? If so, why hadn’t she left? Was it because of them, her daughters? Or had she loved Hawksley, as well as Bill, and been torn between the two different men?

  She would never find out the answers to these questions. Her mom was gone, and no one else could tell her.

  But she did know her mother had loved them all enough to stay. She’d loved them enough to cook them meals and treats, to kiss their knees when they fell, and to tell them stories every night before tucking them in.

  Maybe her father was right, and she’d been wrong to judge her mother so harshly.

  Should that apply to Dawson, too?

  After the round-up at the Circle C, Dawson did his best to focus on his new job and helping his daughter settle in with her new babysitters. Fortunately Savannah was a fast adapter. Nothing seemed to faze her. Soon all that was left was to move into their new house and they’d be completely settled.

  True to his word, he made no effort to contact Sage. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in his thoughts, pretty much all day and all night. On Friday, when he took possession of his new house, Dawson took the day off work and kept Savannah home from the sitters. It didn’t take long to transfer the possessions from their trailer to the new place.

  His mother had been right about one thing. He needed more stuff.

  And he didn’t look forward to buying it. Maybe he should have accepted her help, after all, though at the time he’d been hoping Sage would be the one to help him furnish the new place.

  He happened to be at the front door that afternoon when the mail carrier came by.

  “Hey you must be the new owner,” the man said, pulling a legal sized manila envelope out of his bag. “Welcome to the neighborhood. Here’s your first official piece of mail.”

  The envelope had been forwarded from his legal firm in Reno.

  Dawson thanked the guy, then sank onto the front stoop.