When the Cowboy Said ''I Do''

by Crystal Green

  “Bo’s up to it,” Erika said. “He saw what was going on here and decided he could do something about it.”

  “All I have to say is that I’m glad someone besides Arthur Swinton threw his hat into the ring.” Holly shook her head. “Him and his old way of thinking are enough to drive this town deeper into the ground.”

  “A lot of the younger crowd would agree with you. Sounds like Bo’s got your vote, too.”

  “We’ll see.” Holly picked at her salad, trying to control her heartbeat, which was still bopping around. “Way back when, our families would have the occasional barbecue, and he was even pressed into babysitting me and my brothers a few times, too.”

  Bo was thirteen years older, a sun-kissed teenage cowboy who liked to buck the system—or so she’d heard in town every so often. And she’d crushed on him hard until other more accessible boys had come along.

  She remembered Bo, all right.

  The waitress stopped by to refill their water glasses. “Anything else for you gals before your ribs get here?”

  Holly and Erika said no, and as their server disappeared, they started to talk again.

  Until they realized that someone had gotten out of his seat and was standing near their table.

  Holly jumped at the sight of Bo Clifton.

  She couldn’t catch a breath, what with him and his broad shoulders and charming smiles. His skin was tanned, and it made his forget-me-not blue eyes stand out like memories that had never quite left her.

  “Ladies,” he said.

  “Bo.” Erika nodded cordially. She’d worked with him recently on a rally at the Frontier Days festival, so she was obviously comfortable with him moseying on over here. “Do you remember Holly Pritchett?”

  “Indeed I do.”

  He extended his hand to Holly, who stared at it a moment, as if debating whether or not it’d be a good idea to touch him.

  Temptation. A large hand like Bo’s enveloping her in warm skin.

  Pregnancy hormones flitted around in her like little red sparks.

  And that’s all it was, too—her body. A bunch of hormones that constantly wanted to get into mischief.

  It had nothing to do with this cowboy in particular.

  When Holly shook his hand, it was warm all right. Roughened, just like the skin of a man who was used to a good day of work.

  When Holly let go of him—maybe too soon, because Erika was watching her with curiosity—she tucked her hand under her leg, trying to get rid of the delicious shivers that were tingling from her fingers and up the length of her arm.

  “Good to see you,” she said to Bo.

  Now please go.

  But he was doing no such thing.

  In fact, he rested his hands on the table and leaned over to meet her gaze. And what he said next shocked her with its straight-to-the-point boldness.

  “I couldn’t help but hear a few scraps of your conversation. And if you don’t mind me saying so, Holly, Erika is right—you’re going to find a way out of your situation. In fact, I’ve got all the troubleshooting you’re ever going to need right here.”

  Bo Clifton was a man who didn’t believe in small talk unless it was absolutely necessary, but apparently Holly Pritchett could’ve used a better lead-in.

  Both she and Erika Rodriguez merely sat and stared at him as if he was the world’s biggest party crasher.

  But a man who was going to turn this town back around needed the gumption to tackle matters headfirst. Just look where pretty talk and politics had gotten Thunder Canyon—into a fine mess, a recession that rivaled even the most downtrodden towns in the great U.S. of A. The type of change Bo was going to bring would take some big-time blunt talking, and he’d been good at mixing that with persuasive words all of his life.

  Yup, running things in Thunder Canyon was the job for him, and as he’d sat there listening to Holly Pritchett’s woes, it’d occurred to Bo that he had a way to solve both his challenges and hers.

  As he smiled down at her, his belly warmed with appreciation. She’d gone from an all-knees-and-elbows girl whom he’d babysat every once in a blue moon to this—a cherry-cheeked, blond-curled, blue-eyed woman. She was like a fresh breeze blowing through Thunder Canyon.

  But she was clearly in trouble, too.

  Not that he’d intended to overhear Holly and Erika while he’d sat at his table, grabbing a quick bite after doing some business with his cousin, Grant, up here at the resort. After the waitress had seated Bo and well before he’d even turned on the volume of his computer to catch the nightly news, he’d heard the women talking, so he’d kept the volume off, telling himself that he would crank it up soon enough.

  But that had never happened, because with each new revelation from Holly, a plan had formed in Bo’s mind. It was pretty radical—maybe even drastic. But, then again, when had Bo ever been traditional?

  Ever optimistic about his opportunities to bring about solutions, Bo pressed his advantage now.

  “It seems,” he added, “that you need a husband as much as I need a wife.”

  Bo hadn’t thought the ladies’ mouths could’ve opened any wider in stunned disbelief, but they managed it.

  “Now, just hear me out,” he said, keeping his tone reasonable. “I’m not talking nonsense. I have a mutually beneficial offer that you’ll at least want to consider.”

  “Whoa,” Erika said as Bo grinned and slid into the booth next to her so he could face Holly. But she was still watching him as if he’d popped up out of the dirt like a prairie dog with its hair on fire.

  Holly finally spoke. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  He understood her surprise, but Bo wasn’t much bothered by his plan. Long ago, his parents had made a mockery out of marriage. A fake one would surely go smoother than the so-called real thing.

  She sure looked like a breezy young woman fresh out of college, but she had a commanding tone when she wanted to use it. “You sat there with your earplugs in, pretending to be busy, but all the while you were listening to our private conversation—things I haven’t even shared with my family?”

  “I apologize for the circumstances, but believe me when I say my intentions are on the up and up.”

  She went back to staring at him. Now he felt like a Martian.

  Understandable. “Pardon my saying so, but years ago, our parents saw me fit enough to look after you, Holly. And good neighbors don’t stop being good neighbors just because some years have passed.”

  Holly shot a where-did-this-alien-come-from? glance to Erika.

  “Here’s the thing,” he said, leaning on the table. “There’s nothing I want more than to help Thunder Canyon, and I’d venture a guess that this would be near the top of your own list, since your family is still living here. And I know just how important family is to you. This town has been a real home for both of us.”

  “Arthur Swinton would argue that you can’t really claim Thunder Canyon as home since you chose to live near Bozeman instead of your ranch here.”

  “He’d be wrong. I’m back in town every summer. More importantly, Thunder Canyon was where my family put down roots. Their blood is here, too.”

  Holly seemed to realize what he was talking about—the long-ago murder of his uncle, who’d been killed alongside the father of his cousin by marriage, Stephanie Clifton.

  And Bo never wanted Thunder Canyon to go back to those days. He’d be damned if the town ever sunk so low again.

  He hadn’t meant to play that card, so he tucked it back in where no one could see it, just as he always did. Helplessness got a man nowhere.

  “Just hear me out for five minutes,” he said.

  When he got the feeling that Holly was about to turn him down flat for good, he forged ahead.

  “Here are the reasons you need an immediate solution. One—you should avoid stress in your pregnancy, and your strife with your dad is bad for your baby.”

  Holly blinked, and Bo could tell that she’d th
ought this over quite carefully even before he’d brought it up.

  Score one for the rancher.

  “Two,” he added, “I can provide the baby with a name and you with a sizable income—much more than you’ve been getting at that temp job of yours.”

  “You know that I—?”

  “I’ve had my ears open in Thunder Canyon, as well as here in the Rib Shack.”

  She still wasn’t telling him to go away.

  “Three—Arthur Swinton is starting to sling some mud in this campaign. Now, I have a handle on the younger vote in this town. They like what I’m saying about changing some of the things that haven’t worked for us. But then there’s the old guard who keeps voting Swinton into the town council year after year, even though he’s a big part of the reason we’ve had economic policies that practically set us up for such a fall. Instead of addressing his failures, he’s been concentrating on the topic of family values, and he’s throwing out some hints about how I’m too young and rebellious to be mayor. I’ve also heard from his camp that I’m some kind of wild bachelor, an outsider who’s going to ruin Thunder Canyon with my unstable, inexperienced ways.”

  “Don’t wild, rebellious guys usually interrupt dinners to make preposterous offers like yours?” Holly asked.

  Bo took her feistiness as a good sign and his smile only grew. “It’s true that I’ve done my share of partying in the past, but that doesn’t make me less fit to do what needs to be done in Thunder Canyon. And believe me, I’m all for family values—it’s just that I’ve been pretty busy running my businesses to get hitched, and that shouldn’t be a mark against me.”

  “You do like to do things in your own way.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “And I like to treat women with all the affection and dignity they deserve. I haven’t needed to get married to accomplish that, either.”

  Holly pulled at the collar of her blue sweater as the pink on her cheeks seemed to intensify.

  Her skin… Was it his imagination, or was she glowing ever so slightly?

  Then again, she was pregnant. Probably the glow had nothing to do with his suggestive remark.

  Either way, he brought himself out of wondering about things of such a nature. Business. This was only about business. The proposal had nothing to do with glowy skin, no matter how smooth it looked. No matter how much he was thinking about what it would feel like if he touched it.

  He smiled again. “What I’m trying to say is this—you could really use some good care, whether it involves saving you from an awkward situation with your family, giving you and your baby all you need financially or…”

  “Or what?” Holly asked softly.

  A heartbeat plugged by, and he found that he didn’t have an answer.

  But then Holly glanced at the table, as if angry at herself for even asking. Hell, he wasn’t too happy, either, because he hadn’t even been able to finish his damned sentence.

  Business.

  He just wanted to tell her it would be all business.

  Next to him, Erika laughed a little, but Bo knew he had a strong case if he would only hang in there. Untraditional, yes, but perfectly reasonable.

  Help me help you, he thought. Just like a good neighbor should.

  He played his last hand. “You volunteer for the ROOTS mentor program for teens with Haley Anderson, don’t you? And you were planning to be a civic-minded lawyer.”

  “Yes…”

  “Then you’re practically made to be a mayor’s wife—respectable, community-oriented—if only for long enough to get us both what we want.”

  Holly’s gaze seemed to go a little hazy as she looked into his eyes. Was she thinking of how easy it’d be to go back to her father and tell him that she hadn’t been lying about a fiancé after all?

  He could only hope.

  “Six months,” he said. “That’s all the commitment I’d be asking for. Long enough for me to win that election and get a foothold in changing things for the better. During that time, you’d also have so many opportunities to pull Thunder Canyon out of its hole, Holly. Come springtime, we can get a quiet annulment and I’ll compensate you for your efforts with enough money to make your child’s future the best it can be.”

  His pulse thudded as she continued staring at the table, as if she was running all the scenarios through her mind. He even thought he saw her touch her belly, which seemed pretty small for seven months along.

  A few seconds ticked by. Had he done it?

  Would she…?

  But then she reached for her purse and coat, fumbling out her wallet, then putting money on the table next to her barely touched salad. She made her way out of the booth, gracefully for a pregnant woman. Nonetheless, he got up to help her, but she refused him as Erika put her own money on the table.

  “We can get the rest of the food to go,” Holly said to her friend, ignoring Bo altogether.

  And that’s when he saw it all spin by—the opportunity to really do good…his uncle laughing in old photos…his cousins Grant and Elise trying to hold back tears at the funeral so long ago…Bo staring at the coffin, numb until he began comforting himself with dreams about how to change a world that had flown off its axis…

  All of it, slipping away.

  “Holly,” he said. “No matter how crazy my offer might sound, my intentions truly are for the best. Remember that.”

  She must’ve heard something in his voice, because when she looked at him again, there was a sort of understanding in her blue gaze.

  But it barely had time to seep into him before she said, “Good night, Bo.”

  Then she walked away, taking Erika with her and leaving behind Bo’s hopes for his own future, as well as that of this town he loved.

  But if there was one thing Bo wasn’t, it was done. Not when he’d seen her looking so thoughtful about what he’d said.

  Not when he knew there still might be a chance.

  Chapter Two

  After getting the rest of their meals boxed up, Holly said good-bye to Erika at the enclosed entrance to the Rib Shack. Her friend needed to run by her resort office and grab some files she’d forgotten to take home with her.

  “At least this is going to be a night to remember,” Erika said as they shrugged into their coats.

  A night to remember, when Bo Clifton had come out of nowhere to propose.

  That’s when Holly started laughing—incredulous, Outer Limits laughter that made Erika join in until they were both wiping tears from their eyes.

  Just imagine, Holly thought. A quickie marriage. Me. Miss Used-to-be-Prim-and-Proper.

  Her laughter faded as the idea slid away.

  Married to Bo Clifton…

  “It’s almost like I dreamed it up.” Holly sighed and buttoned her bulky wool coat. “Bo Clifton, to the rescue.”

  His name. Just saying it felt…intriguing. Almost as if conjuring up his smile and the glint in his blue eyes was nice. With most guys, Holly would’ve run as fast as she could away from him and such a left-field offer, but she’d known Bo and had trusted him years ago.

  She’d kind of liked him, too.

  More than liked him, way back when.

  But that had been ages past, when she’d still worn glittery nail polish. Now they’d both grown up—her into an unsure, expecting mom and him into…

  She couldn’t quite find the correct description for Bo.

  Head case? Delusional fast talker?

  All she knew was that she was still tingling a little, just thinking about him.

  Holly tossed a scarf around her neck as Erika repeated, “Yeah, Bo to the rescue.”

  When she paused, Holly thought it might be because two women had come into the Shack’s entrance, and Erika wanted to be discreet until the ladies entered the restaurant proper. But there was a kink to Erika’s brow, a thoughtful angle.

  The cool October night air that had come in through the doorway brushed Holly’s cheeks as the couple left her standing with Erika in the entrance.


  Her friend finally spoke. “Even though Bo came off oddly, I do think he was being genuine. I can’t explain why. Maybe because when I worked with him, I really got a feel for what sort of person he is—and it’s a sincere one.”

  Holly had formed that idea, too. You could tell when someone was running a line of bull—she’d just seen it in Alan too late, and that’s why she’d let him go, because she knew he was never going to change. But Bo?

  He hadn’t been messing around. There were even a few moments, when she hadn’t been thinking he was a loon, that he’d actually made a lot of sense.

  A bright future for her child… A chance to make her family still respect her, if she could keep her mistakes with Alan from them…

  And there was something else niggling at her that Bo hadn’t even addressed. Her dad was as old-fashioned as they came, so how would he look at her baby if he or she was born out-of-wedlock?

  A fiancé would legitimize her child.

  A fiancé—a well-off rancher and mayoral candidate to boot—would solve so many things.

  Erika laid a hand on Holly’s arm, as if she was pulling Holly back from a train of thought that was careening off the rails.

  “Even if Bo’s offer was genuine,” she said, “it was really out there. Just think about it—marrying for money and to get you out of a tight spot, not because of love.”

  “In some other cultures, marriage is considered a business arrangement.” The words were out of Holly’s mouth before she’d even weighed them.

  Erika tilted her head, gauging, so Holly smiled as if she were kidding.

  Wasn’t she?

  Her friend smiled back. “No matter the case, I won’t be spreading around what he proposed. Bo’s going to be good for this town, and I won’t give his opponent any ammunition.”

  “Sounds like you don’t mind having a mercenary-minded guy for mayor.”

  “If I thought Bo was more dangerous than Arthur Swinton, I would’ve headed a committee to run him out of town way before this.”

  They walked into the crisp night, where a cloud cover puffed over the moon. Holly gave her friend a big hug, then said good-night as they parted and Holly headed toward her vehicle, a blue pickup that looked way more at home on her family’s ranch than here at the resort, where the few tourists who still visited had parked their jaunty cars and sleek sedans. Luckily, there were the more weather-beaten, practical local trucks and SUVs to balance things out.