A Cowboy’s Promise
Vicki Lewis Thompson
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
About the Author
A COWBOY’S PROMISE
Copyright © 2017 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737
Visit the author’s website: http://vickilewisthompson.com
Chapter One
Like most folks, Greg Paladin liked Fridays. He had the usual reason, a weekend to relax and hang out with his buddies, but there was also Libby Tesler. On Friday, he made his weekly deposit for Paladin Construction, LLC, and Libby was the one who handled the small business deposit window.
Six months ago, when he’d made his first puny deposit after launching the business, she’d been wearing a diamond engagement ring. The following Friday his deposit had been slightly larger and the ring had disappeared from her finger.
Since he’d only been back in Eagles Nest for a short time, he hadn’t been in on any of the town gossip. Eventually, over some beers at the Guzzling Grizzly, he’d learned of her breakup with her fiancé. That had started his brain working on the situation.
If he compared his past with Libby to life on the rodeo circuit, she would be like the unscheduled small-town event that had turned out to be more memorable than any other, even Madison Square Garden. He’d been twenty and she’d been a year younger when they’d spent an hour together in the back of his truck one hot summer night. He’d never forget it.
She’d made him promise not to tell a soul about that interlude, and ten years later, he’d continued to honor that promise. When he’d left the circuit to build a life in his hometown, Libby had been a draw. But she’d been engaged. Now she wasn’t.
Several things had kept him from jumping on the opportunity ASAP. First off, he hadn’t wanted to be her rebound guy. No way. He’d also been super busy getting his construction company going. Free time had been at a premium. But most telling of all, he’d forgotten how to date. As a prize-winning bull rider on the circuit, he’d had all the buckle bunnies he could handle. No need to go looking for female companionship. Women just showed up.
He’d never kidded himself that those relationships would amount to anything. Once he’d announced his retirement from bull riding, the ladies who’d flocked around had lost interest. That was fine with him. His vision of the future included a solid business in Montana, a woman who loved him as much as he loved her, and a couple of horses so they could go riding whenever they wanted.
His bank deposits these days were a lot healthier than they had been six months ago so he could relax a little on that score. Libby’s breakup wasn’t brand new anymore, either. And he’d finally come up with an opening gambit. He’d ask her out for coffee.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked a woman out for coffee. It was entirely possible he’d never asked a woman out for coffee. At twenty he’d hung out at parties to see if anyone interesting might be there. That was how he’d ended up in the back of his truck with Libby.
But as he walked into the bank to make his weekly deposit, he had trouble picturing the willowy blond in the pale blue dress doing the wild thing in the bed of his pickup. She wasn’t the type. More important, she wasn’t his type. Or even more to the point, he wasn’t hers.
She was elegance and refinement while he was sweat and rough edges.
But damn it, he’d planned to ask her out for coffee today, and he would by God ask her out for coffee. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror without seeing a lily-livered coward.
He waited his turn beside the velvet ropes and smiled as he approached. “TGIF, Libby.”
“Same to you, Greg.” She’d been friendly from day one, but wary.
He got that. They had a history she didn’t want shared. She might hope that he’d forgotten, but no such luck. He had instant recall of touching her soft skin and hearing her eager cries.
She put the week’s checks through and verified that the deposit slip was accurate. It always was. He made sure of that every Friday before he walked into the bank. He’d been labeled a screw-up in high school and had graduated by the skin of his teeth. He wasn’t about to let Libby catch him in a math error.
Her smile was cool and professional as she handed him the deposit verification. “Anything else I can do for you, Greg?”
“Yes, ma’am. Have coffee with me.”
She blinked. “I don’t drink coffee.”
“What do you drink?”
“Tea.”
“Then I’ll buy you a cup of tea.” Saying that lacked something, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Um…well...”
He braced himself for a rejection.
“If we’re going to spend time together, I’d rather have you take me riding.”
“You would? I mean, sure, I can do that. I didn’t know you rode.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what—”
“You could teach me.”
“Oh. Right.” His brain was fried by the unexpected detour but he kept his focus. “How about tomorrow morning? I’ll pick you up around nine in the morning.”
“Why don’t I meet you instead?”
“That works, too. Wild Creek Ranch. My horse is stabled there and I’ll arrange one for you.”
“See you at nine, then.”
“Great! See you then.” He almost mowed down the couple coming through the door as he left the bank. He had a date in the morning with Libby. They were going riding, even though she didn’t know how. He liked this plan. Riding was in his wheelhouse.
After climbing into his truck, he called Kendra McGavin at Wild Creek Ranch. Now that he thought about it, Kendra and her son Zane usually took trail riders out on Saturday morning. All the gentle horses might be spoken for.
“You’re in luck,” Kendra said. “We had a last-minute cancellation. Some out-of-town guests got stuck in bad weather, so I can give you Strawberry.”
“That’s good. Thanks. I don’t suppose Jake’s available?” That chestnut had some Tennessee Walking Horse blood and would be a smooth mount for Libby.
“Since there’s no trail ride, Zane was planning to take Jake out tomorrow to check on the eagle nests. But if this is important, I could ask him to switch off and take Winston.”
“No, no, Libby will be fine on Strawberry. He’s a good lady’s horse.” He didn’t want to interfere with Zane’s eagle surveillance. Those birds could use someone like Zane watching out for them.
“Libby? Are you talking about Libby Tesler?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Does her mother know about this?”
“I doubt it. This just came up when I was in the bank. Why?”
“I once had a conversation with Libby’s mom and she asked me how I could stand working in the barn around smelly horses because it’s so dirty and dangerous. She was grateful Libby’s never wanted to ride.”
“I guess Libby’s changed her mind.” Because of him?
“I guess she has. See you in the morning.”
“Yes, ma’am. Have a good evening.” He disconnected the call. Libby’s mom disliked horses. That was unfortunate. But Libby
wasn’t her mother, and she’d decided she wanted a riding lesson. From him. Tomorrow couldn’t arrive fast enough.
* * *
Hermione was stationed at the door as usual and greeted Libby with a soft meow. Scooping up the tortoiseshell, Libby tucked her furry body close and rubbed behind her ears. “Good news, kitty-cat. He finally asked me out. We’re going horseback riding.” She delivered the last part in a conspiratorial whisper so Hermione would understand the significance of the plan. The cat purred as if she did.
“Just between you and me, I have no idea what I’m getting into. I may be a complete bust at this riding thing. Probably will be. But I’ll get to see Greg Paladin astride a horse looking all cowboyish, and I’ve dreamed of that since I first saw him walking the halls at ENHS.”
Hermione purred louder.
“That man has beautiful eyes. Sort of a sea green. Smiling eyes. When he comes into the bank, I have the urge to grab him by the ears and pull him—”
Hermione growled in protest.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to squeeze you.” She loosened her hold and Hermione jumped down. “I get distracted when I think about him.”
Her tail in the air, Hermione glanced back at Libby with a pointed stare and marched toward the kitchen.
“Right. Dinnertime. I’m aware of that.” She took off her jacket and laid it over the back of a chair on her way through the small living room. The apartment wasn’t as fancy as the guest house on her folks’ property, the one they’d assumed she’d live in until she got married.
Explaining why she wanted to rent an apartment instead had been difficult. The guest house was free. Except it wasn’t. Living under the watchful eye of her parents would have cost her plenty.
Hermione had saved her. Her mom had been unwilling to have a cat in the guest house, so Libby and Hermione had made their escape. Sort of. Her mom had asked for a key. The vase of flowers on the coffee table meant her mother had been over today. There was also a note on the kitchen counter.
Hi, sweetheart. Your father’s meeting a client at five this afternoon so let’s move dinner to six-thirty. He’s promised to be home by then. Love, Mom
Libby had tried to introduce her mother to the wonders of phone texts with zero success. She preferred to pop over and leave a written note. And flowers. They were lovely and brightened the living room, but…
If only Libby hadn’t made a spare key. But when her mom had asked straight out, what was she supposed to say?
She fed Hermione and looked through her mail to take up the extra time she’d been given thanks to her dad’s appointment. Usually on Friday nights she quickly fed the cat, refreshed her makeup and drove to their house. The weekly dinner had been another concession. Ack, she shouldn’t call it that. It was probably a good idea to have a set night to get together to make sure they all kept in touch.
An hour later, she sat at the dining table she would inherit someday, along with the silver candelabra, the gold-rimmed china, the silverware and the crystal goblets. Her mom had announced that at one of the first Friday night dinners her ex-fiancé Jeff had attended. He’d acted impressed. But thanks to her mom’s comment, she’d had the same morbid thought at every Friday night dinner since. When you croak, all this will be mine.
Her dad occupied his usual position at the head of the table. She and her mom sat across from each other, which left a lot of real estate stretching to the other end of the linen-covered surface. Dinner with her folks was never a casual affair. Her mother wore pearls and a beige silk dress. Every tinted brown hair in her stylish cut was in place.
People said her father looked distinguished with his steel-gray hair and chiseled features. Fresh from a day at his law office, he still wore his jacket and tie. He smiled indulgently. “So, kitten, what’s new with you?”
“Not much.” At least not yet. Time would tell.
“Jeff came to see me today.”
“Oh?” Her dad and Jeff had remained friends, which was okay with her unless her dad started inviting the guy to dinner when she was here.
“He said he needed legal advice about an insurance client, but I think he mostly wanted to talk about you. I guess he’d heard you weren’t seeing anybody. I get the impression he wants another chance.”
“Did he suddenly discover he’s not allergic to cats?”
Her mother blotted her lips with her napkin. “Sweetheart, he can’t help that, you know.”
“That’s a matter of opinion. He was fine with Hermione until we started looking for a house and discussing furniture. Then he began complaining about his allergies. I think it finally dawned on him that he’d be living with a cat and he didn’t like the idea.”
Her mom’s blue eyes, so much like hers, took on a defiant gleam. “Not everyone is as enamored of cat hair and scratches on the furniture as you are. There’s a reason you had to put down a sizable pet deposit before you could have that apartment. Cats make a mess.”
“So do people.”
“Now, now.” Her dad reached over and patted her shoulder. “I can’t believe this is about your cat. Jeff’s a reasonable guy. He thinks you two can work it out.”
“Dad, it is about my cat. He led me to believe he’d be fine with her until we decided to take advantage of good interest rates and buy a house. Suddenly he announced I’d have to give her away before we got married. I doubt that he ever intended for me to keep her. I don’t appreciate being manipulated.”
Her mom pushed back her chair. “We need dessert and a change of subject. Who’s ready for a slice of cheesecake?”
“Me.” Her dad’s tone was hearty.
Libby knew she was supposed to be excited about the cheesecake. It was a family favorite. “I’d love some, Mom. Let me help you.” She picked up their dinner plates and followed her mother into the kitchen.
Her mom pulled the cheesecake out of the refrigerator. “I thought I’d go into Bozeman tomorrow and do a little shopping. Want to come? We could have lunch at that new place.”
“Thanks, but I have plans.” Libby took dessert plates from the cupboard.
“Oh, really? What are you up to?”
On the surface, it was an innocent question. Not really. Libby had always been more specific about her reasons whenever she’d had to reject one of her mother’s invitations. “I agreed to spend some time with a friend.”
“Which friend? Suzanne? Jennifer?”
“No.”
Her mom stopped slicing the cheesecake and gazed at her. “It’s a man.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe about it. And you don’t want to tell me who.”
“Not yet. It might go nowhere.”
“Frankly, I hope that’s true. You and Jeff are a perfect match. I can’t believe you let that silly cat come between you.”
“Mm.” Libby loved her mom and so she forgave her for that remark. Her mother had never cared for animals of any description. She’d never understood the deep and abiding love Libby had for Hermione.
“I planned the shopping trip because I thought you might want to look for a new dress to wear when we go to brunch on Sunday.”
“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that. “I’m sure I have something that’ll work.”
“You’re still going with us, right?”
“Sure.”
“Good. I want to support the hotel’s decision to open a restaurant and it’s especially forward thinking of them to offer a Sunday brunch. I think Eagles Nest is ready for that, don’t you?”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“If it doesn’t pan out, at least I’ll know we’ve done our part to support it. Dad and I will pick you up at ten.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“And wear something festive.”
“I will, Mom.” Dressing for Sunday brunch would be a piece of cake. Dressing for horseback riding, not so much.
Chapter Two
Greg arrived at Wild Creek Ranch thirty minutes ahead of the time he’d given Libby s
o he could saddle his horse and Strawberry, too. He enjoyed being here. The one-story log ranch house set into the pines felt welcoming and the roomy stable big enough for eighteen horses was a great place to hang out. He was renting a compact little house on the outskirts of town, but when he had the money, he’d buy a place like this only with a smaller barn.
Kendra had already brought Strawberry out to the hitching post and was giving him a rubdown. She had her dark hair in a ponytail and looked too young to have five grown sons. She called out a greeting. “I left Bob for you. He likes you better, anyway.”
“Thanks.” He walked quickly down the aisle to Bob’s stall. The palomino was peering out the stall door waiting for him, or maybe for the carrot chunks he pulled from his pocket. “Hey, Bob. How’s it going?”
Bob finished off the carrots and nudged Greg’s shoulder. It was probably a bid for more carrots, but not necessarily. The horse genuinely seemed to like him. Greg’s rodeo buddies would have accused him of choosing a flashy horse to attract women, but that hadn’t been his motivation. The first time he’d met Bob, the horse had rubbed his muzzle against his arm. Greg had taken it as a gesture of friendship and that’s how things had been ever since. They just plain got along.
Snapping a lead rope onto Bob’s halter, Greg led him out of the stable and secured him to the hitching post. He glanced over at Kendra. “Do you think I should give Libby my horse, instead?”
She paused as if considering that. “No. Bob respects you and behaves himself with you on board. You’ve never tested him with an inexperienced rider, though. He might sense he could get away with stuff.”
“Good point.”
“Strawberry’s had every manner of rider on his back, from little kids to grandmothers. When he senses they’re clueless, he never tries to take advantage. He just moves more carefully.”
“Then he’ll be perfect for Libby. I want her to have a good first experience.”
Kendra placed a saddle blanket and a saddle pad on Strawberry’s broad back. “Have you ever dealt with a beginning rider?”
A Cowboy's Promise Page 1