Made for the Rancher

by Rebecca Winters

  “If I do it, I won’t go up on the platform with you. I’ll sit down in front with everyone else where your parents can see me. That’s as much as I’d be prepared to do.”

  “Thank you for that, Jasmine,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’ll call you next Saturday morning to let you know when I’m picking you up.”

  “No, Rob. I’ll come to the fairgrounds alone. If you can’t live with that, then I won’t come at all.”

  After a long pause he said, “The rally starts at six, but you’ll need to be there by five. Security will watch for you and make sure you get a place right up in front.”

  “All right. I’m going inside now.”

  While they’d been talking, her thoughts hadn’t strayed from Wymon who’d handled this encounter with the kind of diplomacy that was his trademark. Wymon was the grown-up. Though they’d had plans to go to a show, he hadn’t pushed it. She knew he wouldn’t be back today.

  As Wymon had told her earlier, Rob wasn’t the kind of man to take no for an answer, and he was giving her space to deal with it. Everything Wymon did made him an exceptional man. Already her feelings for him were off the charts.

  Rob’s blistering gaze hurt. “So this is how it ends,” he said.

  This was a nightmare. “What do you want me to do?”

  “When did you learn to be so cruel? I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”

  No one in the world liked losing, but Rob had a particularly hard time because of his competitive spirit. He got in his car. After he backed out, his tires screeched as he took off down the street in the opposite direction from Wymon. By now the rancher was miles away. She’d have to call him in a few minutes.

  Her parents met her at the front door. “I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” she said. “Buzz must have called him and told him he’d seen me at the rodeo with Wymon on the Fourth. I realize now how much that must have hurt. Especially when Rob never told Buzz that Wymon was the person who rescued us.”

  “His pride prevented him from saying anything,” her father murmured.

  “Days ago, Rob called me, and I had to tell him it was over between us. But he’s in denial and I don’t know how long it’s going to last. He came over here today to remind me of my promise to go to his rally next Saturday in Helena.”

  “Oh dear,” her mom said.

  “Oh dear is right. I know how much he was counting on it, so I told him I’d go for one last time. But I said I’d get there by myself and sit with the audience. It’s as much as I can do. I’m just sorry you had to deal with him. I know he likes you two a lot and hoped you’d be able to influence me.”

  Her father shook his head. “He’ll get over his disappointment in time.”

  “I hope so. I’m just thankful he’s fully recovered from the crash. I’m very much aware of how difficult this is for him. I feel so sorry it had to end this way, but he has to know we aren’t meant to be together.”

  “When it’s not right, it’s not right, honey.” Her mom put an arm around her shoulders, and they walked inside the house.

  Yet how incredible was it that if Jasmine hadn’t agreed to go with him for that flight, she would never have met Wymon Clayton? Since meeting him, she couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “Well?” her father asked once they were in the living room. “What’s the word on the horse?”

  “I bought the sweetest filly from Mr. Whitefeather today. Wymon is going to come by tomorrow and help me bring her home from Missoula. When you see her coat, you’ll know why I’ve named her Moondrop.”

  Her mom smiled. “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “It was Wymon’s idea,” she said, blushing. And thought what a fool in love she was.

  After excusing herself, she hurried to her room to call Wymon. To her disappointment her call went to his voice mail. He was probably on the phone doing ranch business with his brother Eli.

  She left the message for him to call her back so she could tell him what had happened with Rob.

  Chapter Six

  By six in the morning Wymon had gone up to the north pasture to inspect the fencing. He’d always heard his mother complain under her breath that the housework was never done. It was the same for the fencing. You couldn’t go a day without noticing a portion of the miles of fencing had been knocked down somewhere. Sure enough, the cattle would find it, then they’d all have to spend a day bringing them back.

  This morning he didn’t mind. He needed work to help the time pass faster until he left for Philipsburg. Jasmine’s phone call to explain what had happened with Farnsworth yesterday didn’t surprise him. Wymon had an adversary in the man who reminded him of his bull-riding days.

  When he glanced up, he noticed that the sky had darkened with clouds over the Sapphires. A summer storm was building. He knew the signs, but it was still three, maybe four hours away.

  “Good grief! You beat me up here!”

  Wymon looked over his shoulder at Eli. Some of the stockmen were still jumping out of the truck. Others were on horseback. “Yup. I thought I’d better put in my time early this morning.”

  Eli walked over to his side. “Yeah? Got plans later?”

  Here it comes. Eli’s happy marriage had opened him up like nothing else. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Roce says Ms. Telford is one beautiful woman.”

  His brother would be right about that. The family telegraph was in perfect running order. “Then I guess he told you Jim Whitefeather sold her the filly. I’m going to go with her to pick her up.”

  “He says the Appaloosan is almost as pretty as she is.”

  “That sounds like Roce.”

  “I heard the pilot you saved was Representative Farnsworth, the one fighting your grizzly reintroduction program.”

  “Yup.”

  “Did he know who you were?”

  Wymon turned to him and tipped his hat back. “We recognized each other. Both he and his parents phoned to thank me for dragging him out of the cockpit. I appreciated his call.”

  But any civility between them disappeared yesterday when Farnsworth saw him drive up to Jasmine’s house and he put two and two together that things were already serious between them.

  One of Eli’s brows lifted when he was worried. “Does he know you’re taking out his girlfriend?”

  Hell. If anyone else had asked him that question... “Afraid so. His manager saw me with Jasmine at the Drummond rodeo on the Fourth. Even though she’s told Rob goodbye, he showed up at her house yesterday as I was pulling in behind her, obviously hoping for a showdown. If his eyes had been weapons... He now knows for sure she’s not his girlfriend anymore.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Whoa is right. I have a gut feeling Farnsworth isn’t about to give up. I’m afraid the situation is getting uglier.” It made Wymon anxious to see her again today.

  Eli’s features relaxed into a smile. “Whatever went on with them before the plane crash, she’s been with you ever since. If she’d met you first, there’d be no Rob in her life. So you’re doing something right, bro.” He slapped him on the shoulder.

  Only time would tell... A change of subject was in order. “How are your two favorite cowgirls?”

  “I swear life couldn’t get any better.”

  With Eli so in love, the change in mood around the Clayton ranch was nothing sort of miraculous. “I’m happy for you, Eli.”

  “That works both ways.” His eyes lit up. “Have fun with the fillies, if you know what I mean. Now I’d better get going before the downpour starts. Luis is waiting for me. It’s past time we started moving the cattle to the other pasture. This one is close to getting overgrazed.”

  Wymon chuckled as Eli hurried to join the crew. Have fun with the fillies. Good advice. That was exactly what he intende
d to do.

  An hour later he got back in his truck and drove down the mountain to shower and change into a long-sleeved plaid shirt. After eating a mixing bowl full of cereal with a quart of milk, he took off with a feeling of excitement he hadn’t experienced in years. No, that wasn’t true. Wymon had never felt like this before.

  He was still breathless remembering dancing with her and the way her body felt when he pulled her close. He’d never forget that moment in the truck when he’d leaned across to cup her face. The desire to kiss her had come close to overwhelming him. Today he knew for a fact that if they got that close again, it was going to happen.

  By the time he reached Philipsburg, the wind had started to kick up. He’d been listening to the radio. This whole part of the state had received storm warnings. He called Jasmine to tell her he was almost at her parents’ house.

  “I’m glad you made it before the storm.”

  “It won’t hit for another hour.”

  “I hope not. Just pull around to the barn. My horse trailer is next to it. I’ll meet you there.”

  His heart leaped when he saw her standing by her truck. She was a gorgeous sight in a white cowboy hat and boots. He loved her white, long-sleeved Western shirt with its snap fasteners. The belt with the big buckle drew his gaze to her womanly figure. Over her arm hung a deerskin leather jacket with fringe. The woman had great style.

  “Good morning,” he called out the window and backed up the truck to the horse trailer. “Why don’t you get in the cab out of the wind while I fasten the hitch?”

  “It’s kind of tricky.”

  “If I can’t figure it out, I’ll call for help.”

  Her smile lit up his universe. “You’re the first man I’ve ever met who admitted to the possibility.”

  “Is that good or bad?” He climbed out from the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t you know?” The twinkle in her green eyes kept his heart thudding.

  After several attempts, he finally hooked it up and climbed back in the truck. He slanted her a glance. “For a minute there, I was afraid I’d have to ask for your help.”

  “You want to know a secret? The first time Dad tried to fasten it to the hitch on my truck, it took him half an hour. Wait till I tell him!”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t. According to my mother, men’s egos are fragile.”

  “You’re right. On second thought I’ll tell my mom instead.”

  He broke into laughter before starting the engine. Wymon never knew what was going to come out of her mouth next. She had the power to entertain him indefinitely.

  On the way out of town she looked over at him. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I had no idea Rob would be at my house.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “He had no right to come all the way to Philipsburg and he was in a terrible mood. I’m so glad you left when you did. I’ve never seen him upset like that before. Between the crash and my rejection, he’s in a lot of pain and that hurts me.”

  “I’m sorry. If I were he, I wouldn’t be able to give up so fast on you either, believe me.”

  “Yes you would, because you understand the word no,” she said quietly. “You’re a different kind of man.”

  Wymon took a deep breath. “What kind is that?”

  “Someone who knows how to handle difficult situations and make the right decisions. When you came on the accident scene, you knew exactly what to do and how. Your quiet calm helped me more than you can imagine.”

  “Did it ever occur to you I was terrified?”

  She laughed as if what he’d said was absurd, pleasing him to no end.

  The closer they got to Missoula, he saw flashes of lightning, and the wind grew stronger. It started to buffet the truck and trailer. “I can tell you one thing. If we start to load Moondrop when the storm hits, she’ll get spooked. I’m going to call Jim and tell him we’re going to be late.”

  “That’s a good idea. The last thing I want is for my new little baby to have a bad experience while I’m trying to take her home. She’ll remember it.”

  Jasmine had a horse whisperer’s instincts combined with an innate sweetness that tugged at his heart. “We can’t have that. What do you say we stop for breakfast until the worst of it passes over?”

  “That sounds wonderful. I was too excited to eat this morning.”

  “I know a place on the outskirts where Roce and I often meet when he can’t be away from the hospital too long. Then we’ll head out to Jim’s ranch.”

  After he’d phoned Jim, he turned off the freeway and headed for the diner he had in mind. Tumbleweeds and small bits of debris were rolling across the road before he pulled into the parking lot. She looked at the sign. “The Velvet Couch? What a strange name!”

  He turned off the engine, angling his head toward her. “You never heard that term?” She shook her head. “It’s cowboy lingo for ‘bedroll.’ You know the old chuck-line riders who’d show up on the range? They’d set out their bedrolls around the campfire for the night, hoping for a little chow.”

  Her mouth curved into a big smile. “A couch! I learn something new every time I’m with you.”

  “Stick with me, babe. Come on. I’ve got to hustle you inside. We’re about to get baptized.” He jumped down from the cab and walked around. When he opened her door, another gust of wind with the taste of rain hit them both in the face. “Hold on to your hat.” He put his arm around her waist, and they hurried inside just as the hail started.

  The diner was only half-full. Old black-and-white photos of Montana in the late 1890s covered the walls. He guided them to a booth with a menu holder farther away from the others and slid in next to her so he could feel her warmth. They both removed their hats. He brushed them off and put them on the other side of the table.

  A familiar face approached. “Hey, Wymon.”

  “Jake!”

  He poured the steaming brew into their cups. “You didn’t duck in here a moment too soon. Will you listen to that clatter? Where’s the doc?”

  “At work, I hope. Meet a friend of mine. Jasmine Telford, this is Jake Simonds, the manager of the Velvet Couch.”

  “How do you do, Jake? Wymon was just telling me the meaning of the name.”

  The older man grinned. “Some people think it’s a house of ill repute. That’s okay if it brings in customers. I’ll fix you the breakfast special. Hen-fruit stir with long sweetenin’, cackleberries and overland trout.”

  The look on her face made both men chuckle.

  Wymon nodded. “Make that two orders and keep the coffee coming.”

  Country music might have been playing from the jukebox, but the rage of the storm pretty well drowned out every sound. First lightning flashed, then thunder cannonaded across the sky over and over. They felt the rumble beneath their feet.

  While she reacted to the violence, the lights went out. “Oh, no,” everyone murmured at the same time.

  Wymon put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “This is better than lying around a camp fire on our couch getting soaking wet,” he said into her fragrant hair. To his disappointment the lights went back on. When her body shook with silent laughter, he removed his arm, but it took all his strength of will not to kiss her into next week first.

  “Here we are.” Jake had arrived with their food. “Two plates of bacon, eggs and pancakes with our own huckleberry syrup!”

  “I might have known,” she cried softly. The older man chuckled. “It appears the loss of electricity didn’t bother you.”

  “We have our own power source, ma’am.”

  “Of course. I must say this looks delicious.”

  “We aim to please.”

  After he left, they dug into their food. While she ate, she studied the menu. “I take it the eggs are the cack
leberries, but I don’t know why.”

  Wymon nodded, relishing his food as if he hadn’t already eaten earlier. “It’s an old English expression from the 1880s. A hen cackled when it laid an egg.”

  “So the egg is the berry?”

  He nodded with a smile.

  “Probably your great-grandfathers used the expression when they came over from Lancashire.”

  She remembered! “Probably,” he said with a grin.

  “And the sweetenin’?”

  “Old-fashioned molasses. My ancestors enjoyed it as a sweetener they called treacle. It was thought to have healthful benefits.”

  “It’s another language.”

  “On our cattle roundups, Luis, the foreman, is known to read aloud from a book on cowboy jargon to entertain the crew. They love it.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can see my education is lacking. If there’s a book, I’m going to buy it.”

  “There are dozens of them.”

  “That would be a fun thing to give my parents for Christmas.”

  The storm continued to do its worst while Wymon chatted away with the most fascinating woman this side of the Continental Divide.

  Jake came out a few minutes later. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Do you still have that Edgar Potter book on cowboy slang?”

  “Yup. It’s on the shelf in my office.”

  “Would you be kind enough to let Jasmine take a look at it?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” He was back within a minute.

  Wymon took it from him and handed it to Jasmine. “This author was born in 1895 in North Dakota and wrote three books on the Old West.”

  She reached eagerly for it and read aloud some of the alphabetized terms in the middle.

  Railroad Bible: a deck of cards; Randy: wanton, lecherous; Ranny: top cowhand; Rappee: inferior snuff; Rattler: freight train; Rattle your Hocks: hurry up.