To Court a Cowgirl

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To Court a Cowgirl Page 9

by Jeannie Watt


  Not that he was thinking about sex and Allie. Not a lot anyway. Just the normal amount for a guy who hadn’t been laid in a while...and who thought his boss was hot.

  “Hey,” he said as he approached.

  “How’d it go?” There was a healthy measure of concern in her voice.

  “Like working with an angry badger.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “What’s the deal, Allie?”

  Allie glanced to the side, obviously debating about how much to say. Jason waited. He wasn’t going to push her, but surely she could see that the more he knew, the easier it would be for him to deal with the situation.

  “Whatever it is, could I find it out in a local bar?”

  Her gaze flashed to his. “Probably,” she admitted.

  “I’m not looking for gossip. I’m looking for insight. It’d help to know, in general, why he’s so angry. Has he always been like this?”

  “No. He used to be a sweet kid. When he was twelve anyway.” Allie gestured with her head for him to walk with her “Zach’s mom is a friend of mine. She thought she had a great marriage until her husband left her. Zach was supposed to go to work on the family ranch with his dad during the summer. He was really looking forward to it, then his dad moved his girlfriend onto the place and decided it’d be too uncomfortable having his son on the ranch with his live-in.”

  “Okay,” Jason said as he automatically opened the barn door before Allie could reach for it. “Now I get the anger. Which makes it easier to deal with.”

  Allie gave a small sigh as she opened the barn door. “Sometimes I wonder if there is such a thing as a great marriage.”

  “It’s a tricky business,” Jason agreed.

  She gave him a sidelong look. “Have you been married?”

  “Too focused on my career to get that involved with anyone.” The sad truth. He’d had a lot of girlfriends, but never found anyone that he’d felt like sharing the rest of his life with.

  Allie gave a small snort. “I thought I was building a life with someone, only to find out that I was the only one swinging the hammer. Not to sound bitter...sorry. I probably shouldn’t talk about Kyle right now.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. He’s out of the hospital, but...” She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Nothing, his ass. There was something about the ex that was eating at her or irritating her. Maybe both.

  “Do you think you can continue to work with Zach?” she asked.

  He smiled down at her. “Do I have a choice?”

  “You could walk.”

  “Then who would oversee the kid?”

  “He probably doesn’t need overseeing once the beams are laid down,” Allie said. “He worked beside his dad on the ranch since he was eleven or twelve.”

  “So you’re saying that I’m the superfluous member of the demolition team?”

  Allie’s smile touched her eyes and lit her face, and made him want to kiss her...just to see what she tasted like. “Maybe,” she admitted.

  “I’ll have to up my game.”

  “By the way, Zach’s mom is glad that you’re making him wear a hard hat.”

  “I had that drilled into me since I could walk. If you’re carrying a tool, you need to have a hard hat and boots.” He took the bucket of grain she’d just filled. She didn’t relinquish hold of it easily. Jason was about to give up to circumvent a tug-of-war when she let go.

  “You know I can do this?” she asked with a cool who-the-hell-are-you-to-do-things-for-me? lift of her eyebrows.

  “I’d be pretty thick if I didn’t.”

  “Then—”

  “It’s a courtesy, Allie. It’s something that I do. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

  “It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I feel like I owe you.”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “This isn’t tit for tat. No one’s keeping score.”

  “I am. I kept score for years and now it’s a habit I’m having a hard time breaking.”

  “What do you mean you kept score?”

  She walked out of the barn and over to the fence, where she motioned for him to dump the grain into the trough. For a few seconds he thought she wasn’t going to answer.

  “With Kyle. I kept score with Kyle. I didn’t start out doing that, but after several years of making excuses, I started to realize there wasn’t an excuse. Not one I could live with anyway. I did all of the day-to-day stuff and he started things. If I didn’t finish them, they didn’t get done.” Her mouth flattened for a moment. “You know how I said I wasn’t bitter? I lied. I’m totally bitter.”

  His hands settled on her shoulders before he even realized he’d moved. He felt her muscles go tense, but he didn’t take his hands away. “Recognizing it is the first step to letting go.” She pulled back ever so slightly and he let his hands drop away. It wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to pull her up against him and hold her. Try to soothe the tension out of her stiff body.

  “Thank you, Yoda.”

  “Anytime.”

  She took the grain bucket from him and started back toward the barn. “I don’t talk about Kyle with my sisters anymore. For a long time it was all I could talk about and, even though they’re patient, I could see that it was hard for them to keep listening to my bitching.”

  “You can’t let this guy continue to control you.”

  “He doesn’t—” She broke off, then her mouth twisted a little at one corner. “Maybe he does.” She gave a small sigh, then looked out over the pasture. “I need to finish chores.” She held out the bucket. “Would you refill this while I throw hay to the cows?”

  “You bet.”

  * * *

  ALLIE SAT ON the porch step and watched as the dust from Jason’s truck settled. He was gone for the night and that feeling of lonely isolation once again settled over the ranch. But tonight she was glad he was gone.

  Way to pour out your guts, Allie.

  There was something about Jason that allowed her to pour her guts out and she couldn’t figure out whether or not that was dangerous.

  And if so, what was the danger?

  All of her instincts said keep your issues to yourself and then she’d gone against instinct.

  Probably because there was something steady about Jason, but despite that steadiness, she had a feeling that he was just as leery of strong feelings and commitments as she was. Or maybe it was just that he was fighting demons of his own, so that when the conversation turned to his issues, he became cagier.

  Jason with issues. She’d always assumed his life was perfect, but apparently even golden boys had their difficulties... Although, despite her past prejudices, maybe she needed to stop thinking of him as a golden boy. Privilege had rendered him clueless in some regards, but he was also a good guy. Intuitive, empathetic, easy to talk to and he called her on her bullshit. Definitely not the person she’d judged him to be, but that said, she didn’t need further complications in her life, such as those that might arise from being attracted to an ex-football player. Not when she wasn’t fully recovered from her last failed relationship.

  And not when she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life.

  The thought was absolutely depressing and Allie pushed it aside as often as possible...but sometimes she couldn’t. Like now.

  Allie pulled off the top of a wilted bachelor button and played with the feathery blue flower, twisting it between her fingers as she watched the cows happily toss hay in the air as they looked for the good bits.

  She enjoyed the library, but couldn’t see working in a school for the rest of her life, and that was a scary thought considering how much time and money she’d put into training. She like
d kids, but didn’t feel comfortable taking command of them. She felt almost trapped at the school...but she hadn’t minded working in the accounting office while she’d been supporting herself and her husband. She’d been glad for the income, glad to be around other people. So what was the deal here? She’d put all of this time into an education degree and she didn’t feel any kind of excitement to go to work.

  It’ll be different when you’re full-time and not just subbing.

  But what if it wasn’t?

  Then you’ll suck it up and figure something else out.

  What else could she do? Start over? Ha.

  But she hated the feeling that she was spinning her wheels yet again and that she’d wasted time and money training for a career that didn’t satisfy her. Allie tossed aside the flower and pushed herself to her feet. The interior of the house echoed as she walked inside and closed the door behind her. Lonely, lonely house.

  She headed toward the kitchen, pausing at the sideboard and studying the painting that hung above it. The painting Jason had commented on after cleaning up his scrape in her bathroom. Even though she’d created it during a dark time in her life, the painting of her garden was bright—brighter than the garden had actually been. The colors popped and seemed to convey a feeling of hope and happiness.

  Where had that hope and happiness come from? Allie hugged her arms around herself as she studied the painting, trying to recall how—or even why—she’d produced such a positive statement when her world had been so damned dark. Dark enough that Kyle had seemed like a knight in shining armor.

  Kyle, who’d resented the time she spent painting and had laughed when she’d said that maybe she could sell a few pieces and bring in some extra income. “You’re good,” he’d said, looping an arm around her and pulling her close, “but be realistic. If you want to bring in extra income you need a real job.”

  He’d been right.

  She’d quit painting less than a year after they’d married and focused her energy elsewhere, feeling as if that phase of her life were over. She no longer needed to pour her feelings into her artwork as she dealt with grief—or create lies about what her world was like.

  They weren’t lies, per se.

  All right. Wishes. She was depicting the way she wanted her world to be. Again. The way it had been before she’d lost her dad.

  Allie pulled her gaze away from the painting and headed into the kitchen, where she took a container of day-old pasta out of the fridge and set it in the microwave. While it heated, she went back to the painting, then studied its companion, another garden scene, done in the late summer.

  How many more paintings were stored in the attic? Probably five or six. Maybe more.

  And what if Jolie hung the rest of them when she came back? It was uncomfortable enough having these two on display.

  She needed to get rid of the others while she had the chance.

  * * *

  MAX WAS STRETCHED out on the sofa instead of in the recliner when Jason got home. He didn’t budge, and neither did Duke or Barney, when Jason went upstairs to his bedroom. And his dad was snoring softly when Jason came back down.

  A day with Jimmy had worn him out. A day with Jimmy would wear anyone out.

  He’d just settled at the table with a turkey sandwich and club soda when his phone buzzed. Coach’s number came up and Jason’s pulse jumped. Good news would be a nice change of pace.

  “You aren’t in the running for either coaching job,” Coach said immediately after his hello.

  The coach never had been one to sugarcoat. Jason let his head drop back in defeat before he said, “Thanks for letting me know.” The form email would no doubt follow.

  “There’s an opening in the athletic department,” Coach blurted out in his gruff way. “An assistant to the assistant athletic director.”

  “Assistant to the assistant?”

  “You’re not qualified for this job, either, but it would be a toe in the door and I put in a good word for you. Actually...I talked to them for half an hour, pulled in a favor, and I think I got you an interview.”

  It had come to this? His former mentor having to pull in favors? It was strange to go from being on top of the world a few months ago, a starter in a playoff game, to this—unqualified for anything.

  Humbling, to say the least.

  “Lots of people want to coach for Brandt, Jason. You’re an unknown entity off the field.”

  “I know. And I appreciate what you did. Are doing. Thank you.”

  “You have to go to the website and apply. Do it tonight, because the posting closes tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate this, Coach.” He had a rock in his gut, but he did appreciate it.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t screw it up.”

  “I won’t. Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’ll be in touch.”

  Jason ended the call, then jerked guiltily as his father said, “Who was that?”

  He put the phone down and turned to see his dad and the Dobes standing in the kitchen doorway. He hadn’t realized that Max had gotten up from his nap—in fact, he’d considered himself lucky that the call had come while he was alone.

  “Coach Whitmore. From Brandt.”

  Max’s expression clouded. “Brandt?”

  Jason nodded then went to the fridge, where he reached for a beer, then, remembering Kate’s comment about Pop turning them into alcoholics, grabbed another club soda instead. He twisted off the cap before turning back to his father.

  “Yes. I wanted to apply for a coaching job there.”

  “Wanted? Past tense.”

  “They don’t have anything that they would consider me for right now, but there’s an opening in the athletic department itself. Kind of an assistant to the assistant athletic director.”

  Max grimaced. “Sounds like a secretarial job.”

  “It might be, but it’s hell getting a toehold at Brandt and that’s the place where I want to work.”

  “It’s seven hundred miles away.”

  “It’s no different than when I went to college there.”

  “It’s different.”

  “How?”

  “I wasn’t on death’s door then.”

  Jason cocked an eyebrow. It was serious when his dad went for sympathy points on top of guilt points. “I can always find a place for you down there.”

  An expression of horror crossed his father’s face. He’d left California because he’d had enough of the state, with its high taxes and overcrowded cities, and on top of that, he truly loved the Eagle Valley. So, of course, he wanted his kids there. Where he could help them manage their lives.

  “You’d do that to me? I really would conk out.”

  “If I got the job, and that’s still a big if—” which had been made very clear to him in the phone call “—I could come home fairly often.” That was what airplanes were for, after all—to visit family...and to escape from them when necessary.

  “Why Brandt?”

  “Top-notch football program. Progressive coaching. A way to stay in football. The place did me a lot of good, and I think I can return the favor.” Jason ticked the reasons off on one hand.

  Max held up his hand and did some ticking of his own. “You don’t have to work. You have family that wants you close. You could coach locally. Jimmy will be crushed.”

  He would have been better off if he hadn’t mentioned Jimmy, and Max seemed to realize that. His eyes narrowed and he asked, “What about Pat?”

  “What about him?”

  “Wasn’t Brandt the school that did him in?”

  “Pat did himself in.” Jason rubbed the back of his tight neck with his free hand. “Look, Dad. We’ll work something out so that I see a lot of you, but I plan to have a career in athletics. It’
s what I always planned, and if I’m able to start at a primo school like Brandt—even if I have to work my way onto the coaching field—I’d consider myself blessed.”

  “Good for you,” Max said sourly. He abruptly turned and stalked into the living room. Jason closed his eyes as he heard the distinctive sound of dead weight falling into the recliner and then the squeak of the footrest rising. A second later the television started blaring and Jason took a long drink of club soda. Not the same as beer, but Kate was right. If he drank every time he had a flare-up with his dad, his liver would be shot within a year.

  * * *

  WHEN ALLIE GOT up the next morning, one of the cows was down, looking like she was ready to calve, but as soon as she saw Allie, she got back to her feet and ambled off toward the rest of the herd. Because of the cow, she was reluctant to head to work early as she’d planned and instead waited until Jason showed up.

  “Would you keep an eye on that cow there? Number fifty-three?” The cows were identified by numbered tags in their ears. Even though Allie knew this particular cow as Lou, many of the cows were known simply by their numbers.

  Jason squinted at the herd as Allie pointed. “The black one. Yeah.” Which made Allie smile because all of the cows were black. He sent her a cautious look. “This is one of the easy calvers, right?”

  “She should just pop it out, but if there are any problems, call the vet.” She handed him a card. “Or call me first and then call the vet.”

  “Will do.”

  She pushed her hair back as she studied the herd. She really hated to leave. So many things could happen even with an easy calver.

  “It’ll be fine,” Jason said beside her.

  There was something about his tone that was ridiculously reassuring. The guy had almost puked while helping her pull a calf, yet she felt like believing him when he said everything was going to be okay.

  “I’ll call if things start happening.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Put your number in, would you? Then I won’t have to worry about finding the card.”

  Allie took the phone and put in both her number and the vet’s number. “The vet is under Vet.”

 

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