Kissed by a Cowboy

by Pamela Britton

  “Look at you,” Vivian said to Mariah as she moved aside so they could enter. “I’ve never seen your hair like that before. It’s beautiful.”

  “I have a date with Zach tonight.” Mariah seemed pleased by the praise. “We’re going to celebrate the help you’re giving us. Speaking of which, I really can’t thank you enough.” She hugged Wes’s mom again, and her hands moved to the woman’s shoulder as she leaned back and smiled. “You’re an angel.”

  Vivian had the grace to appear abashed. “Nonsense.” She smiled at Jillian. “I’m just glad I can help.”

  “Is Wes joining us?”

  Hearing his name was like being jolted by a defibrillator. Jillian actually froze for a moment, but the expression on Vivian’s face was all the answer she needed.

  “No.” The normally stress-free face looked troubled. “It was confirmed today that he’s Maggie’s father.”

  “Wow.”

  She’d known it was a possibility, but to hear it was actually true took her aback for some reason. It shouldn’t matter one way or another, but clearly it did.

  “Let’s all go outside on the patio and I’ll tell you about it.”

  The patio turned out to be a terraced backyard with a pool to the left, one of those invisible-line pools that seemed to flow into a cloudless blue sky. To the right the rocks and landscape and lush trees seemed to stretch on and on, all the way to the ocean in the distance. It took Jillian’s breath away.

  “Okay, I think we can meet out here.” Mariah’s grin was huge as she looked around. “It’ll be tough, but we’ll have to make it work.”

  Vivian laughed. Jillian marveled, forgetting for a moment about Wes’s troubles. The terraces were made of granite, each a few steps down to the next level, lush foliage and blooming shrubs lining the edges. The pool blended perfectly with its surroundings. Dusky gray pebbles turned the water a darker color, the inky liquid matching the stones around the periphery. Not a leaf had fallen to dot the water’s surface, not a stone looked out of place, and Jillian knew if she were to live a thousand lives, she’d never find an estate more stunning.

  Wes had grown up in that pool. He’d grown up in the beautiful massive house behind her. It was one of the things she most admired about him. For all the wealth, for all the trappings, for all the things he’d no doubt been given while growing up, he was still just Wes. Still one of the nicest men she’d ever met.

  Vivian had already set out a pitcher of lemonade. She poured them each a glass before sitting back and emitting a sigh.

  “Does Mariah know what’s going on?”

  Jillian shook her head. “I didn’t think it was my place to tell her.”

  Vivian nodded in approval. “No, but there’s no keeping things under wraps now. It’ll be all over the industry by month’s end, mark my words. The paternity test came back. Wes is definitely the baby’s father.”

  “Wait.” Mariah glanced around the table. “Wes? A father?”

  Vivian quickly filled Mariah in on the details.

  “He’s happy to have everything confirmed, of course, but I can tell he’s a little terrified of the future.” Vivian shook her head. “He’s got so much on his plate right now...”

  Wes’s mom didn’t need to explain. She made no mention of Wes’s need to win a big futurity. Clearly, certain details of her son’s situation she kept to herself. But Jillian knew. The pressure he had to be under could only add a new level of stress to his life, and with so much at stake...

  For the first time she felt bad for not trying harder to call him back. She might refuse to fall in love with him, but she was still his friend.

  Vivian changed the subject. Jillian tried to focus on the conversation that followed, but it was difficult to offer insights on their coming fund-raiser when all she wanted to do was talk to Wes. She wouldn’t be able to see him today, either, what with Mariah and her date afterward. She suddenly wished they’d arrived in separate cars.

  “Are you sure?”

  The tone of the question caught Jillian’s attention. Mariah sounded so thrilled and grateful.

  “Well, why not? It would save you from having to pay for a place to hold the event. That’s half your cost right there. Wouldn’t you rather have that money in the bank?”

  “But the event is less than two months away.”

  “We can make it work,” Vivian said. “Have you printed anything up advertising location?”

  Mariah shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

  “Perfect.” Vivian sat back. “We might have some trouble with the weather. It can be overcast most mornings this time of year, but it usually burns off by noon. It should be beautiful by the evening.”

  “I’m so excited.” Mariah was all smiles. “Thank you so much—”

  “Cowboy!”

  They all three turned just in time to see a black-and-white blob head right for Jillian, black rear end swinging like a Ping-Pong paddle, eyes excited and what could only be a canine grin plastered on his face.

  “Cowboy,” she echoed, and despite her concern for Wes, she smiled. “How are you?”

  “He’s in trouble. I swear he heard your voice all the way down at the ranch house. I chased him all the way here.”

  Jillian looked into Wes’s eyes and tried not to flinch. He looked like hell. Or maybe it was just the sight of him standing there, black cowboy hat, black shirt, black jeans—like a minion of the dark.

  “Where’s Maggie?” she asked.

  Wes glanced at his mother. Jillian noted her pinched mouth. “With Maxine,” Vivian answered for him.

  She didn’t know why that bothered her, but it did. For all they knew, Maxine might be a wonderful mother. Maybe she’d just needed some time to get her head screwed on straight.

  And maybe pigs would fly.

  “Oh, darn,” Mariah said. “I was hoping to see her before we leave.”

  Wes looked as troubled as the victim of a crime. He had circles beneath his green eyes. His lips were pressed together as firmly as his mom’s, too. He didn’t hold her gaze for very long, either, just a quick brush of his eyes and then a smile for Mariah.

  “You’ll see her soon enough, I would imagine,” he said.

  She shouldn’t have been hurt that he seemed to look right through her. She’d been the one to treat their time together as if it were no big deal. Apparently he’d gotten the message. Either that or he’d decided a one-night stand was all he wanted, too. And why did that sting?

  Wes reached down and grabbed Cowboy’s collar. “Sorry to disturb you.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Mariah stood and gave Wes a hug. “You’d never be disturbing us, right, Jillian?”

  “No.” She swallowed hard. But she couldn’t look him in the eyes. The way he hardly spared her a glance made her feel ill.

  “Come on, Cowboy.”

  And he was gone. She told herself not to watch him walk away, but she found her gaze following him anyway. Once he slipped inside the house, Cowboy shooting her one last glance over his shoulder, she turned back to her companions. They were both staring at her.

  “Well?” said Mariah. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Vivian shook her head, something like amused reassurance in her eyes. “He was upset when he couldn’t get hold of you earlier this week.”

  She stared back at them. “I thought...”

  “That I didn’t know?” finished Vivian. “Honey, I’ve been around the block a time or two to know what it means when people look at each other the way you do.”

  That wasn’t what she’d been about to say. She’d been about to confess that she’d thought she was doing them both a favor by keeping him at a distance. Only now did she admit how wrong she’d been.

  “Go on,” Mariah urged.

  “But what about your date?”

  Mariah shook her head. “Zach can wait. Go. Talk to him. I think he needs a shoulder to lean on.”

  She didn’t refute Mariah’s poi
nt. She thought so, too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He couldn’t get away fast enough.

  “Wes, wait.”

  Her words were like a stab to the back. Honestly, it’d felt as though she’d stabbed him when she’d made so little effort to return his calls. It reminded him of high school all over again. Frankly, he didn’t have time for her games.

  “Wes,” Jillian pleaded.

  Cowboy stopped before he did. Releasing a sigh of impatience, he braced himself for what it would be like to look into her eyes, but nothing could prepare him for the jolt the connection sent through him—like plugging a cord into an electrical outlet.

  “Sorry. Didn’t hear you.”

  She’d caught up to him just outside his mother’s house, on the granite walkway, the sun’s rays touching her black hair with the reds and golds and browns of a setting sun. Her eyes swept back and forth, as if examining his features for a clue to his thoughts.

  “So Maggie is really yours?”

  He had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms. Stupid, irrational urge. She’d made it clear she wasn’t really interested in any kind of relationship with him. To be honest, he could thank her for the favor. As it turned out, the last thing he needed was another woman in his life.

  “She is.”

  The scent of her, berries and vanilla, wafted to him. He almost closed his eyes, caught himself at the last minute. “And are you okay with that?”

  He just about bristled at the question before he reminded himself that she’d never doubted his ability to be a father. She’d asked the question because she no doubt feared the sudden thrust of fatherhood might be a tough adjustment.

  “I don’t really have a choice.” He shook his head. “But you know that I never really worried about being a bad dad. I just want to do what’s best for my daughter.”

  And that didn’t include her mother.

  “How did your meeting with Maxine go?” she asked, almost as if she read his mind.

  “Fine.”

  She didn’t need to know any more than that. He glanced down at Cowboy. The damn dog looked back and forth between the two of them as if he were following the conversation.

  “Wes,” she said softly, reaching out for his hand. He forced himself not to move. “I’m sorry for sort of ditching you this week.”

  Sort of?

  He’d called her a half-dozen times and all he’d received were messages that she was busy or that she’d call him back tomorrow and that she was sorry she’d missed him. As if he were some damn dentist’s office or something.

  “It’s fine.” He eyed Cowboy again. “Come on, dog. Let’s go check water.”

  He started to walk away, accepting that they would never be more than friends. She’d made that obvious. And that was okay. It was good. He had too much going on in his life.

  She caught his hand.

  He stiffened.

  “No, it’s not fine.” She tugged him back around to face him. “I was afraid to call you. Afraid to talk to you. Afraid that I’d start to care for you more than I should.”

  He peered into her eyes, knew she spoke the truth, suppressed the desire to tell her it was okay. It was okay. Just because they’d been with each other, it didn’t necessarily mean anything, not in this day and age. He should be grateful that she approached a relationship with caution.

  “Maybe it was for the better.” He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot. The tip left a mark on the granite. “Life is crazy for me right now. I have Maggie, my job, competitions...”

  She understood what he tried to say. He could read the disappointment in her eyes. For all her cool behavior, their time together had touched her in a way she hadn’t expected, just as it had touched him.

  “I see.”

  He swallowed against a lump of disappointment. He wanted to say to hell with it, pull her into his arms and dive in with both feet. One thing stopped him. Life.

  “But, hey, you need to come out and watch me compete on Dudley next weekend.”

  She looked away for a moment, but when their gazes connected, she’d managed to paste a smile on her face. “I’d like that.”

  He could see she was sincere. “It’s not you,” he found himself saying.

  She lifted her chin. “I know that.”

  “It’s everything.”

  She nodded. “I know that, too.” Her gaze skated downward again. “I feel the same way, but for different reasons.”

  “So we’re agreed, then.” He swallowed. Hard. “Friends?”

  “Friends.”

  “Then I’ll see you next weekend.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. Son of a bitch. The sight of those tears made him clench his fist, made him lean away from her because if he didn’t do something fast, he’d give in to the instinct to tug her toward him.

  “You will,” she said.

  They stood there, the two of them, like two empty bottles bobbing on the surface of the ocean.

  “Take care, Jillian.”

  As a way of conveying his desire to keep things cool, the statement couldn’t have been more effective. The tears in her eyes were tinged by sadness and by something that resembled disappointment, maybe even regret.

  “I will.” She reached for his hands and squeezed them lightly. “You, too, Wes.”

  * * *

  SHE’D BLOWN IT. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered as she headed back inside the house.

  You were smart.

  How had she been smart? she all but screamed at herself. What if things had worked out with Wes? What then?

  What if they hadn’t?

  She knew all too well what a dark pit of despair she’d fall into if that were to happen. She should be grateful he’d cut her loose. It’d taken only one time caring just a little too much, falling just a little too hard and then being dumped, badly, for her to be afraid to fall in love. It wasn’t something she cared to repeat.

  “Uh-oh.”

  She wasn’t sure who said it as she returned to Vivian’s patio, but she pasted a bright smile on her face. “What?”

  “My dear, you look as if you just signed the death warrant for your best friend.” Vivian frowned.

  Mariah’s gaze connected with her own, and Jillian felt her concern. “Are you okay?”

  No. She wasn’t okay. She’d started to care for Wes more than she’d thought.

  “He’s having a tough time,” Jillian said by way of explanation. “Makes me sad.”

  “This can’t be easy for him,” Mariah said.

  “It’s not instant fatherhood that’s upset him,” his mom said. “It’s that woman.” Vivian took a sip of her drink. “She wants to spend time with Maggie one minute, then ignore her the next, then calls him sobbing the next. It’s driving him crazy.”

  Mariah shook her head. Jillian felt even more guilty for some reason.

  “What we need to do is circle the wagons. This whole thing has the ability to affect him for the rest of his life. We can’t let that happen.” Vivian’s eyes met hers, all but pinning her to her chair. “For that reason I will pay you to come to Wes’s competition with me next weekend. We need to make sure he wins.”

  “You don’t need to pay me.” Jillian sipped her lemonade. Vivian’s words had caused a lump to form in her throat. “I want him to succeed, too.”

  “You know how much he has riding on this?”

  “I do.” She tried to convey silently that she knew exactly the predicament Wes was in. “And I won’t let him down.”

  Vivian smiled. “Good. You can ride with me to the show grounds.”

  * * *

  THE DAY OF the competition, Jillian didn’t feel very optimistic, though not about Wes’s success. She knew he’d do great with or without her. She was more worried about her ability to keep her feelings bottled up inside.

  She’d met with Vivian in downtown Via Del Caballo, their close-knit horse community with barns and horse pastures and cute little ranch house
s as far as the eye could see. Wes hadn’t called, not that she’d expected him to, but it shocked her how badly she wanted to talk to him. She’d even broken down and sent him a text message, wishing him luck this weekend and encouraging him to call her if he needed anything. He hadn’t replied.

  “You ready for this?” Vivian asked as they headed toward Paso Robles. “Because I have to be honest—I don’t think I am.”

  Vivian’s normally serene face seemed grooved by tension. She had lines bracketing her mouth and slight bags beneath her eyes. She was still beautiful in her caramel-colored sweater and designer jeans, but her short blond hair was mussed and her hands clenched the steering wheel of her Mercedes in a death grip.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not so certain.” Vivian peeked at her as she made a right-hand turn. “You know how young horses are.”

  She did. Unpredictable at best.

  “But he has to do well.”

  Jillian nodded, a question forming on her lips, one she’d been dying to ask Vivian for weeks. “Couldn’t you, I don’t know, buy a finished cutting horse and then resell it to Wes for cheap? You know, a horse that’s a proven winner? With the purses being as large as they are, it wouldn’t take Wes long to earn the money he needs.”

  But Vivian was already shaking her head. “The bulk of the Landon wealth is held in trust. I’m not the executor. My husband’s brothers are.”

  “What?” She couldn’t contain her dismay. “The uncles that tried to fight the will?”

  “One and the same.”

  “But...” She couldn’t believe it. “That’s insane.”

  “Not as insane as it might sound. If Wes fails to earn his keep, they stand to inherit a large portion of the money.” Vivian’s diamond earrings sparkled in the morning light when she turned to glance at her. “It was a bone my husband threw to them when the whole inheritance mess blew up. They have everything to gain and nothing to lose by keeping a close eye on Wes’s financial status.”