Once Upon a Cowboy

by Day Leclaire

  With that she darted for the barn, snatched up the shovel and raced to within clubbing distance of the snake. "Close your eyes and hold real still," she instructed. Aiming carefully, she brought the shovel down on top of the snake in a single powerful blow. Moving with lightning speed, she swept Tina clear and, for good measure, smacked the snake a half-dozen times more.

  Cautiously, she raised the shovel and peered at the snake.

  Across the yard, Holt and Gabby came running, the other children at their heels.

  "The kids said there was a snake. Where is it?" Holt demanded.

  With a shaky finger, Cami pointed, then threw the shovel from her, her gesture one of loathing. She turned and buried her face in Holt's shirt. She couldn't bear to look at what remained of the critter. Holt's shirt, heck, Holt's arms, seemed a much safer place to be. "Did I kill it?" she asked his top button.

  "Dead and then some," he confirmed.

  She risked a quick peek over her shoulder and shuddered. "Is that... that... blood?" she whispered in horror.

  "I've noticed you tend to get kinda white and funny looking whenever you see blood," Holt said. "You have a thing about it, don't you?"

  She swallowed. Hard. "Blood makes me faint," she confessed.

  "Faint?"

  "As in, pass out cold."

  "Got it. That's not blood."

  She gazed up at him trustingly. "It's not?"

  "Nope. No way."

  "What is it?"

  "It's... Why, it's snake ooze."

  "Snake ooze?" she asked doubtfully, risking another quick glance. She burrowed into his shirt again. "It's awful red for snake ooze," she said in a muffled voice.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. "It's red snake ooze," he insisted. "Trust me. I've killed many a snake and they don't bleed. They ooze. There's a big difference."

  "I still feel sort of dizzy."

  "Listen up, Tex." He captured her chin and lifted her face to his. He spoke firmly. "Cowboys, real cowboys, don't faint at the sight of ooze. Blood, maybe. I've seen it happen on occasion. But never ooze."

  She shivered, wanting to believe him, desperate to believe him. "No fainting over ooze?"

  "No, not ever."

  She relaxed marginally. "It's just that I was so frightened. And Tina... Tina!" She looked frantically around. "Where's Tina?"

  He rubbed her back with slow, soothing strokes. "She's safe in the ranch house. Everything's fine now. I've got you and everything's going to be all right."

  She clutched his shirt, calming beneath his gentle touch. "It's okay? Really okay?" She stared at him, losing herself in his gaze. Something hot and urgent burned in his eyes and her breath caught in her throat. Her grip on his shirt tightened.

  "No, Tex. It's not okay," he muttered, his head tilting toward hers. "I don't think it ever was."

  Before she had time to react to his harshly spoken statement, Tina's mother descended on them in a flood of grateful tears. The next thing Cami knew, she found herself parted from Holt and knee deep in guests. As one, they proclaimed her a heroine, shook her hand, slapped her back, and passed her around for a group hug.

  Gabby approached Holt. "That tears it," he said with a grimace. "Don't suppose we should tell them she killed herself a harmless old bull snake?"

  Slowly Holt shook his head. "Best not."

  "You do realize this means we'll have to let her stay on. Wouldn't do to fire the fool girl after she's gone and made a hero of herself by beating the stuffing out of a poor defenseless snake."

  "No, it wouldn't. Fact is, they'd probably lynch us." A smile crept across Holt's mouth. "Looks like we've got ourselves a new wrangler. She may not be much use with a rope, but she sure has a way with people."

  "Not to mention snakes. If'n you was smart, you'd lock up every rope and shovel on the place. Afore she kills somebody." With that, he stomped off.

  Holt waited until the excitement died and the guests had turned their interest to other pursuits before approaching Cami. She peeked at him through shiny black curls, her expression slightly abashed.

  More than anything he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless. He wanted to watch those glorious blue eyes deepen with passion, to see that dimpled smile slip across her face, to count each sun-ripened freckle bridging her pert, upturned nose. But most of all, he wanted to toss her across his saddle and take her up into the hills where he could make love to her beneath a star-studded sky, losing himself in her warmth and desire.

  But he couldn't. He'd learned that lesson once already. He didn't care to learn it again.

  "They sure did make a fuss," she said hesitantly.

  He leveled a cool, serious gaze in her direction. "You did good, Tex. You kept your head, you acted instead of panicking, and you saved Tina from a potentially dangerous situation."

  A swift flush streaked her cheeks. "There wasn't any choice," she insisted in a low, earnest voice.

  "Sure there was." Unable to resist, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "But it's nice to know I can count on my newest wrangler to act sensibly in times of crisis."

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. When they did, he caught the small hitch of her breath right before a huge quavery smile spread across her face. "I'm hired? Permanent for the summer?" He nodded and she launched herself into his arms.

  He caught her in a tight embrace. "You're hired, Tex," he confirmed in a husky voice. "Permanent for the summer."

  A horn blared behind them and they hastily parted, turning as one. A pale blue Honda glided to a stop, and out of the driver's seat slid one of the most beautiful women Holt had ever seen.

  He guessed her to be in her mid-thirties, a mass of silky blond curls floating like a silver curtain about a perfect oval face. She wore a pink silk suit, frilly lace blouse, and pearls. On almost anyone else they would have looked ridiculous, but in this case they suited such a tiny, delicate woman. Eyes as blue as a summer sky stared at him, amusement and curiosity gleaming in their depths.

  Beside him, Cami started. "Momma," she exclaimed in an astonished voice. "What in the world are you doing here?"

  Chapter 6

  Holt shoved his hat to the back of his head. "Momma?" he repeated in disbelief, looking from Cami to the blonde. "You've got to be kidding."

  "No, I'm not kidding." Cami rushed to her mother's side and pulled her into a fierce hug. Then she released the tiny woman and turned to face her boss. "This is my momma, Charlotte Greenbush. Momma, this is my boss, Holt Winston."

  Holt tipped his hat. "Welcome to the A-OK Corral."

  "It's a pleasure, Mr. Winston. And I appreciate your taking such good care of Camellia." Charlotte glanced at her daughter and smiled. "I'm so relieved your two weeks are up. It seems like years since you left Richmond, instead of days."

  Cami stirred uneasily. "I've missed you, too." What in the world was going on? Her mother hadn't mentioned visiting, and yet here she stood, big as life. At least, as big as her five-foot-two inch frame allowed. Something had to be up. "Um, you haven't mentioned why you've come. Just passing through?" She couldn't keep the hope from her voice, vain as she knew it to be.

  Charlotte laughed. "I've come to bring you home, of course."

  Of course. Cami sighed. "Momma," she said, not in the least surprised by her mother's misinterpretation of the facts. "I explained all this to you before I left. I'm working here for the summer."

  Her mother clasped her hands together in a white-knuckle grip. "I assumed that once Mr. Winston realized you didn't know a blessed thing about ranching, he'd send you on your way."

  Cami cleared her throat and darted a quick look in Holt's direction. "A reasonable assumption, I'll admit. But he hasn't fired me. Yet."

  Holt inclined his head. "Give it time."

  Concern lined Charlotte's brow. "In all honesty, I'd rather not give it any more time. I'd hoped that once Camellia had a chance to see how a ranch worked, how different reality is from imagination, she'd
be ready to leave." She addressed her daughter, her request softly spoken yet firm. "Why don't you get your things together? We can drive home, just the two of us, and have a nice mother/daughter vacation along the way."

  Cami stared at the tips of her boots, struggling to find a tactful way of handling this latest turn of events. Hands down, she couldn't ask for a sweeter mother in the world, or a woman who inspired any greater devotion. A kinder, more considerate person didn't walk the earth. True, she often seemed a mite helpless. But caring for and pampering her tiny mother came as naturally to Cami as breathing.

  For all her twenty-four years she'd tried very hard to grant each of her mother's requests. Well, within reason. Unfortunately Cami couldn't grant this particular one. Being able to work a ranch was important, too important for giving in.

  "Momma, you and I need to get a few things straight." She nailed her mother with a cool, unflinching gaze. "All my life, all I ever wanted was to be a cowboy like Poppa. You know that."

  "It's a dream," her mother insisted. "A child's fancy."

  "I'm not a child anymore," Cami said gently. "And being a cowboy's no longer a dream, but an ambition. It's time to let go of the old memories and make some new ones."

  "Old memories die hard," Charlotte retorted. Her chin wobbled and a sheen of tears misted her eyes. "It's not safe," she whispered. "I lost your father to ranching. I couldn't bear to lose my baby, too."

  Regret swept through Cami. But it didn't sway her. She refused to allow it to sway her. If she didn't hold her ground now, she'd never be able to in the future. "I know you're afraid. But I won't let your fears stop me. I have to make my own decisions now."

  Her mother laughed through her tears. "I have no problem with you making your own decisions. So long as your decision is to return to Virginia." At Cami's pointed silence, Charlotte took a step closer. "Please," she implored, offering her hands. "Come home."

  Cami closed her eyes, wanting with every ounce of her being to clasp her mother's hands and submit. She could practically smell Charlotte's terror, and that awareness caused an upwelling of love and compassion, almost tipping the scales in her mother's direction. Almost. Until a picture flowered to life in her mind. Once again she could see her father, raven black hair tumbling across his forehead, hazel eyes aglow with humor and enthusiasm, reaching up and saying, "Come here, Camellia-bush. What a good little cowboy you're gonna make. Daddy's little cowboy."

  Slowly she opened her eyes. She couldn't change her personality or dreams, no matter how much they threatened her mother's peace of mind. Sure, she'd delayed the inevitable as long as possible. Empathy for Charlotte's fears and memories kept her close to home far longer than she'd have preferred. But no more. She had to follow her own star. She was a cowboy, through and through. Her decision made, she took a deliberate step back.

  "I'm staying." They were the hardest two words she'd ever uttered and she knew how much her decision hurt her momma. But she couldn't help it.

  Charlotte's lips trembled and her hands slowly dropped to her sides. She pulled herself up straight and nodded. "Fine. It's your choice and I respect that. But I'm not leaving until you do."

  Cami started in surprise. "Come again?"

  "You heard me. I'm not leaving until you do. When you go, I go. Until then, I'm here to stay."

  Cami's mouth fell open. "But you can't stay. Only guests and employees allowed. No mothers!"

  "Then I'll be a guest," came the obstinate reply. "This is a dude ranch, isn't it?" She looked around for confirmation. "So, make me a dude." With that, she crossed to the car and popped open the trunk.

  "Now, Momma..."

  "I'll unload and you can show me where to take my luggage. We'll have a wonderful time together. You can play cowboy and I can keep you safe."

  "Good luck," Holt muttered.

  Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at Cami. "All you have to do is stay away from cows, horses, and sharp instruments. That's not asking too much, is it?"

  "Yes!"

  "And ropes," added Holt. "You forgot to mention staying away from ropes."

  Charlotte blinked. "Really? You have dangerous ropes around here?"

  "Only in the hands of certain people." He folded his arms across his chest and gave a significant nod in Cami's direction.

  Cool determination settled in Charlotte's blue eyes. "Fine. And no ropes. Aside from that, the sky's the limit."

  "Unless you think up any other dangerous activities?"

  "Exactly. We'll still have lots of fun. You'll see."

  "Oh, no, we won't see!"

  "Sure you will," Holt interjected on an encouraging note. "And once you two are done having fun, you can both go home to Virginia."

  "Exactly!" Charlotte concurred.

  "Now wait just one gol'durn minute here." Cami stepped between her mother and the trunk. "Momma, this isn't right. You can't do this. I'm supposed to be working here and you're disrupting that work."

  "Now, Camellia—"

  "Enough." Her tone brooked no argument. "We had an agreement. You'd allow me to work a ranch for the summer and I'd be home by fall. You gave me your word you wouldn't interfere. Are you going to break your word?"

  Charlotte bowed her head, her lips pressed tightly together. "Don't send me away," she whispered in an agonized undertone. "Please, don't."

  For an endless moment, mother and daughter faced each other, at an impasse. Then Holt interceded.

  "You're in luck, Mrs. Greenbush," he said. "Up until yesterday we were booked solid. But it just so happens we have a two week cancellation. You're welcome to take over the reservation."

  "Two weeks?" Charlotte grabbed his offer like a lifeline.

  He nodded. "We can discuss the possibility of prolonging your stay at the end of that time. Tex?" He shot her a warning look.

  "Sounds perfect," she reluctantly agreed, seeing the merits of his suggestion.

  She didn't like it. But since her mother possessed an ornery stubbornness, one of her less admirable traits, this offered a reasonable compromise until Charlotte calmed down a tad. Unfortunately, that might take a bit longer than two weeks. More like two years.

  Stark relief marked her mother's delicate features. "Thank you so much, Mr. Winston. And please, call me Charlotte."

  He held out his hand. "Make it Holt." He glanced at Cami. "I'll put your mother in the blue room at the ranch house. There's a spare bed. You're welcome to stay with her if you'd like."

  Stay with her mother? Like a guest? Cami's brows pulled together. Oh, he was smooth. "Come and join your mother," he'd offer expansively. "Enjoy your two weeks together. Relax. Have fun." And at the end of Charlotte's visit he'd have them both on their way out the door and off his ranch. She slammed her hat down on her head in perfect imitation of her employer.

  "I'm no visiting dude," she informed him. "I sleep with the hands, where I belong."

  His expression cooled. "Then snap to it. Help our guest with her luggage."

  She nodded grimly. "Yessir, boss. Anything you say."

  * * *

  "Okay, folks. Listen up." Holt reined Loco to a stop in front of the guests, all mounted on various trail horses. "The next three days away from the ranch are going to be long, action filled, and I hope entertaining. Today we ride to the south pasture where my neighbor and I keep our longhorns. More than two dozen have been hazed down from higher pastureland and need to be rounded up for the drive into Lullabye."

  Cami, holding a restless Petunia in check, kept to the far side of Gabby and Frank Smith. She wanted to be close enough so her mother could see her and be reassured, and yet still remain grouped with the other wranglers.

  "Are longhorns dangerous?" an older man questioned.

  Holt shook his head. "These animals are used for show, so they're familiar with people and pretty docile."

  "How do you define docile?" another guest asked nervously.

  Holt sat back in the saddle. "To be honest, I give any animal with six plus foot of horn
plenty of respect and even more maneuvering room. But it takes a bit to rile a longhorn. They're some of the smartest, gentlest cows around."

  "Number one rule," Gabby hollered. "Don't rile the longhorns."

  Holt waited for the laughter to fade before continuing. "It's a good three or four hour trip to the pasture with lots of fine scenery between. The one thing we won't have is cellphone coverage. You may have already noticed that you can only make calls close to the ranch house. So, if you brought a phone with you, I suggest you stow it."

  "Second rule," Gabby shouted. "You can't herd a longhorn by cellphone."

  More laughter followed and Holt waited it out. "We'll do some preliminary roundup work today. Afterward, we'll have a hot meal over the campfire. Cami, explain to the good folks here how that works."

  "Yessir, boss." She raised her voice in perfect imitation of Gabby's. "Campfire cookin' is a snap. You hold the cold thing over the hot thing and you pull it off before it turns into a black thing."

  "And what do I do when someone is foolish enough to turn the black thing into a burning thing?"

  "You throw a bucket of water on the burning thing. 'Course that sometimes means the person who causes the burning thing gets a face full of cold water."

  "And how do you know this, wrangler?"

  She grinned. "Aw, Holt. You know how."

  "I do. But these good folks don't."

  Her grin broadened. "I know cuz I'm the one who usually gets the face full of water."

  More laughter followed and this time, Holt joined in. "Let me give you fair warning. You'll work hard today, but you'll also sleep well tonight."

  Since the cattle were owned jointly by Holt and Frank, both ranchers had wranglers and guests working the herd in a collective effort. Unfortunately, those who knew what they were doing were significantly outnumbered by those who didn't, which made the job much more difficult.

  Holt leaned across his saddle horn, his deep, authoritative voice carrying with ease. "Tomorrow, we round up the last of the stray longhorns and get them situated in the holding pen. Should be another full, hard day's work. There's a cabin nearby, so you'll have the choice of using the bunks there or sleeping on a bedroll under the stars. Friday, we drive the cattle into Lullabye to kick off Western Roundup Days. Any questions?"