Cowboy to the Rescue

by Trish Milburn

  Brooke accepted her receipt and headed for the door.

  “Enjoy your new position,” the woman said.

  Despite what she thought might be some innuendo, Brooke mumbled a “Thanks” without looking back. It bothered her that this woman, who shouldn’t even matter, was making her feel dirty and possibly assuming things about Ryan that weren’t true. When she reached the truck, she slid into the driver’s seat without meeting Ryan’s eyes.

  “Let me guess,” he said. “Jo Baker was working?”

  “I don’t know her name.”

  Ryan leaned forward and looked past her toward the office. “Yep, that’s Jo. Old crow.”

  That unexpected assessment surprised Brooke enough that she met Ryan’s eyes. For a moment, they ensnared her. They were so pretty, and she’d bet all the money she had that he had no clue what kind of effect they could have on a woman.

  “Well, she is,” he said, evidently responding to the look of surprise she must be wearing. “I’ve never met anyone nosier in my life.” He nodded out the windshield. “That’s why she runs this place, so she can pass along who is sleeping with whom.”

  Brooke shook her head as she started the truck’s engine. “That’s sad.”

  “Did she say something to upset you?”

  Brooke looked over her shoulder and backed out of the parking space. “No, I’m fine.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she turned back around, not wanting to see any more questions there. She didn’t want him to detect how Jo’s simple words had made her feel small and unable to take care of herself. It reminded her too much of what some of her former coworkers must think of her. Of how embarrassed she’d been when she’d last seen her sister and sworn her to secrecy.

  Ryan fell silent until they rolled into Blue Falls. “You hungry?”

  “I’ve got to get back to the ranch, prep for dinner.”

  He nodded and redirected his attention out the side window. He shifted in his seat, as if sitting on the passenger side felt awkward. She opened her mouth to initiate some conversation but found herself at a loss. The urge to ask him about himself nearly found voice, but she had to remember that she didn’t want to reciprocate. Maybe someday, but not now. Until she was sure she was safe, that anyone near her would be safe, she had to keep a barrier around herself. She might let some of her natural personality find its way to the surface in the coming days, but that was all.

  By the time they reached the garage, Brooke was nearly twitching in her seat as well. And she wasn’t sure why. All she knew was that she breathed a momentary sigh of freedom when they reached the garage and she hopped out almost before the engine stopped turning.

  “Ah, the pretty lady returns,” Greg said when she stepped into the first bay of the garage.

  She couldn’t help smiling at him. Greg was a charmer, and her instincts were telling her he was harmless. And despite how those same instincts had failed her before, she believed them this time.

  “My tires ready?”

  “Good as new.” He grabbed one of the tires and made short work of carrying it to Ryan’s truck as Ryan strode toward the bay to retrieve the second.

  When she started to object, he said, “I still have one good hand.”

  There was no difference in the action taken by Greg and Ryan, but something about the strength and fluidity of motion she saw as Ryan slung the second tire into the truck bed made her heart beat a little faster.

  As he started to turn back toward her, she averted her eyes a moment before he would have caught her staring. Instead, her gaze met Greg’s, and she spotted realization there. In that split second, she made the decision to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. Because he hadn’t. There was nothing there to see. And if she told herself that enough, maybe it would eventually be true.

  “Thank you for fixing the tires so quickly.”

  “You’re most welcome.” The combination of drawl in Greg’s voice and his slight nod made it easy to imagine him as some chivalrous movie cowboy from the John Wayne era. Sort of like everything she’d seen from Ryan. The similarity actually helped her confused feelings. Maybe there wasn’t anything special about Ryan after all. Maybe they just grew them chivalrous in Texas.

  She reached into her purse for the money to pay Greg.

  “No need for that,” he said. When she started to object, he held up a hand. “Call it a welcome-to-town deal.”

  “Don’t let him fool you,” Ryan said as he leaned against the front of his truck. “He’s just angling for a free meal at some point.”

  Greg made a show of being hurt by the suggestion, the expression so absurd that in the next moment the three of them were laughing. Like three friends. A lessening of the weight pressing down on Brooke made her imagine a real future in Blue Falls, one filled with friends, laughter and a sense of belonging. One where she didn’t always have to look over her shoulder or wonder if Chris stood around every corner. It couldn’t happen soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  “Thanks for the help today,” Ryan said as Brooke parked his truck back beside his home.

  “You’re welcome.” She gestured toward his hand. “You do know there are easier ways of getting help than skewering yourself, right?”

  A small grin pulled at his mouth. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

  “Also remember to keep it cleaned and put a new bandage on it each day.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She let her hands slide from the steering wheel into her lap. “Sorry. I sounded bossy, didn’t I?” She didn’t like to think of herself as bossy, but for so long she’d been a take-charge kind of person. It had gotten her out of West Virginia, through college and into a nice career. Too bad it hadn’t kept her from being a blind fool.

  “Nah. I’ve heard worse,” Ryan said, drawing her back to the here and now.

  After a moment of quiet invaded the truck’s cab, Brooke grasped the door handle, needing to put some space between her and Ryan. “Well, I’d better get back to work. See you at dinner?” Now why had she asked that?

  “Probably not tonight. Got a lot of work to do, and I’m going to be slower than usual.”

  She nearly asked if she could help, but she cut off the words’ means of escape. Tomorrow was soon enough to offer a helping hand again. She didn’t want to seem overanxious to spend time with him. If she had any sense, she wouldn’t be.

  “Okay. If you don’t mind, I’ll come back for the tires after I’m finished with dinner tonight.”

  “Go ahead and drive the truck up to your car. I won’t need it for a day or two. Dad can help you change the tires since I’m currently pretty useless in that department.” With that, he slid out of the truck and shut the door behind him. He waved then headed inside without looking back.

  She ignored the traitorous part of herself that wanted him to turn around and gift her with one more glance at his face.

  With a sigh of frustration, she started the engine and headed back to the main house, where she planned to bury her unwise attraction in preparing pulled barbecue pork and sourdough bread.

  When she hurried in the back door of the Teagues’ house into the kitchen, she found Merline putting the finishing touches on a meringue pie.

  “You didn’t have to make dessert,” Brooke said. “I’m sorry if I was gone too long.”

  Merline licked a bit of meringue off her finger. “Honey, we’re going to have to cure you of this constant apologizing. You’re an employee here, not a prisoner.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that. It’s just…”

  “You were helping Ryan.”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “That doesn’t happen often, him accepting help. He’s usually the one doing the helping.”

 
Brooke considered whether she should tell Merline the reason why but decided it was best to disabuse her of any potential matchmaking notions. “He hurt his hand this afternoon and needed help with a delivery.”

  Merline froze and gripped the edge of the island. “He’s hurt?”

  Something about the inordinate amount of fear on Merline’s face made Brooke want to ease it. “Just a cut, nothing serious. He was carving and a knife slipped.”

  A slow breath escaped Merline. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I just dropped him off. He was going back to work.”

  Merline smiled, but it looked forced. “I guess a mother never stops worrying about her babies.”

  Instinct told Brooke there was more going on here, but it wasn’t any of her business. “So, what kind of pie did you make?”

  Merline smiled again, more genuinely this time, and spun the pie around a little. “Lemon meringue.”

  “That’s my favorite. I’m sure the guests will love it.”

  “Now you go ahead and make whatever you’d planned. Don’t mind me. I just like to bake sometimes.”

  For some reason, the unspoken words “as a stress reliever” popped into existence in Brooke’s head. She walked closer to Merline and leaned against the island.

  “Are you okay?” Now that she looked closer, Merline appeared tired.

  Merline waved away her concern. “Yes, fine. Just trying to adjust to juggling a few extra balls in the air.”

  “The gallery? Ryan told me it’s pretty new.”

  “Yes. It’s a great lot of fun, but it’s also more work than I expected. Although Grace pitches in when she’s not too busy with her own work.”

  “Maybe you could get some help. I bet one of the colleges has an art or business student who’d jump at the opportunity to get some experience, maybe some internship credit.”

  “Now there’s an idea I hadn’t thought of. My dear, you might be a genius at more than cooking.”

  Pride and appreciation warmed Brooke. It seemed like forever since she’d felt good about something she’d done, something that wasn’t undertaken in the name of self-preservation.

  Feeling closer to Merline than their short acquaintance could account for, Brooke playfully shooed the older woman out of the kitchen. “Go on, investigate getting an extra pair of hands and let me be a kitchen genius.”

  Merline laughed as she headed for her small home office, and Brooke found herself standing in the impressive kitchen wearing the biggest smile she had in weeks. Months.

  Brooke spent the rest of the afternoon easing into her new post a little more, letting herself enjoy the simple pleasure of kneading dough and mixing ingredients, of inhaling the aromas of fresh-baked bread and carrot cake. She even giggled a little as she used her finger to scoop out and eat the remainder of the cream cheese frosting. Man, it felt good to relax.

  As the ranch guests started filing into the dining room for dinner, she placed the various dishes on the sideboard buffet style, telling the hungry guests about each one.

  “You’re going to have to roll me out of here in a wheelbarrel,” one middle-aged man said as he patted his belly, making his teenage daughter roll her eyes.

  “It is a ranch,” Brooke said. “I’m sure they have one around here somewhere.”

  “That we do, and we know how to use them,” Merline said from where she stood visiting with the guests at the next table.

  Laughter rang out around the room. That and the compliments she received throughout the meal added to her improving mood. Still, by the time the guests had finished eating and Brooke had cleaned up the dishes and put away the leftovers, her long day was catching up with her. It wasn’t late, but she was ready to go to bed nonetheless.

  “You’re good with the guests,” Merline said as she walked into the kitchen after locking up the dining room for the night.

  Brooke put the last of the non-dishwasher-safe pans away. “It’s an interesting group. Did you know Mr. Brinton runs a hot-air balloon company in Albuquerque? I’ve always wanted to try that.”

  “Oh, you should. There’s nothing quite like it. We actually met the Brintons when we went to the Balloon Fiesta out there a couple of years ago.”

  The idea of soaring above everything seemed so incredibly peaceful, sailing away from the world and all its troubles. She’d have to do that someday, when she felt secure again.

  “Any luck finding some help with the gallery?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. A wonderful young student at UT, who just happens to be studying art and business.”

  “Well, that seems meant to be.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  The tone of Merline’s voice, like she was talking about more than an intern, caused Brooke to pause and catch her gaze. But all Merline did was smile.

  “Well, I’m going to pack it in. I think the trip here is still catching up with me.”

  “Yes, you go get some rest. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

  Why did Brooke think Merline sounded a little too bright herself? Chipper, even.

  Well, why shouldn’t she be? She had a great family, a wonderful home, two successful businesses. There had been a time when Brooke had thought she’d had it all, but had she ever radiated sunshine the way Merline Teague did? She didn’t think she liked the answer.

  With a final good-night, Brooke headed out the door. It was then that she remembered the two flat tires. She considered retracing her steps, seeing if Mr. Teague could help her change them, but she was too tired to deal with it. She’d cajole one of the ranch hands with his favorite dessert in the morning.

  As she rounded the edge of the house, she noticed someone in the glow of headlights next to her car. Someone in boots, jeans and a cowboy hat. And her car was sporting a newly inflated tire, giving the dumpy little thing a full set of four.

  Her heart rate picked up despite her inner voice telling it to calm down. She’d missed seeing Ryan at dinner, even though he did mighty inconvenient things to her brain and nerves. With a deep breath, she headed toward him. “You shouldn’t be doing this.” She’d feel horrible if he injured his hand further because of her.

  As she drew closer, he turned around and tipped up the front of his hat.

  “Since when has it been a crime to help a pretty damsel in distress?”

  Not Ryan. Simon.

  She nearly skidded in her effort to stop her forward progress. “Simon.”

  “In the flesh.”

  The word “flesh” made her uncomfortable, even though Simon had done nothing to make her think he was anything other than another of the crop of chivalrous cowboy types that were thick in these parts. She wasn’t fond of the “damsel in distress” moniker either. She’d had quite enough of that label, was determined never to wear it again.

  She took a couple of steps back under the guise of eyeing her newly fixed tire. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Were you going to do it?” He leaned casually against the back of her car, not crowding her.

  “Well, no.”

  “So I am the hero of the hour.”

  Brooke couldn’t help laughing a little at his grand pronouncement. “This usually works, doesn’t it?”

  “What?”

  She made a waving motion that encompassed the tire and him. “The flirting.”

  He smiled wide. “Yes.” He shifted and crossed his arms. “But it’s not working with you. I must be losing my touch.”

  “I’m just not the best target for your efforts.”

  “Got your eye on someone else?”

  “No.”

  “You sure about that?”

  She schooled her features before looking up at him. �
�Let’s just say I’m taking a break from guys and leave it at that.”

  He eyed her for an uncomfortably long moment. “I’m never one to argue with a lady.”

  “A wise policy.”

  He barked out a laugh at that. “Would you like help unpacking all this?”

  “No, but thank you.” Just the idea of unpacking tonight made her a hundred times more tired.

  “Okay. I’ll take Ryan’s truck back.”

  Brooke caught herself just before she asked him not to. “Thanks.”

  She slid into the driver’s seat of her car and tried to mentally erase the idea that she’d looked forward to having the truck as an excuse to see Ryan again. What was she thinking? Ryan might be the world’s nicest guy, but right now she needed time to focus on herself, to get back to a place where she trusted her judgment. She didn’t need to be thinking about how disappointed she’d been to find Simon next to her car instead of his younger brother.

  RYAN NEARLY INJURED himself again when he heard the sound of his truck’s engine coming up the drive. With a curse at his sudden clumsiness, he tossed aside the chisel to land in a nest of wood shavings. Why had she come back tonight when he was covered in sweat and sawdust?

  It shouldn’t matter.

  But it did.

  Some part of his brain was screaming that he’d neglected his desires too long, that here was a woman who had awakened something inside of him that he’d coldcocked to keep it asleep. No matter how many times he’d told himself since meeting Brooke that he wasn’t ready for feeling anything yet, his damned emotions had flipped him the bird and done what they wanted. He was attracted to Brooke Vincent, intensely attracted, and that was that.

  He wondered if he had the willpower to keep from acting on that attraction. He barely knew the woman, but gut instinct told him she deserved more than he could give. That edge of vulnerability she tried to hide told him that loud and clear.

  He made a token effort at wiping his hands and the sweat off his forehead before stepping out of the indoor portion of the shop that jutted off the side of his house. His mood fell into his boots when he saw Simon walking toward him with his truck keys instead of Brooke.