This Cowboy's a Keeper

by Kimberly Krey

  He set his eyes back on the sight in the box. Eggshells ranging from soft white to pale brown littered the area. Most were cracked open with scrawny, wet-looking chicks nearby, their feathers matted against their pink bodies. One baby chick caught his eye; the tired-looking thing had his neck stretched out while he rested his miniature beak on the egg beside him. An egg that hadn’t even begun to move or crack.

  “Cute little things, aren’t they?” he mumbled.

  “Darling,” she breathed, a small patch of freckles evident on her cheeks.

  Luke dared himself to stretch out a hand, rub her back as she watched in wonder. “This is pretty amazing, isn’t it?” The miracle of life was something to celebrate, after all, and with Payton by his side—even if it took all night—Luke decided he’d do just that.

  Chapter 20

  Payton heard the sound of high-pitched peeps as she clenched her eyes to block out the morning sun. She yawned, stretched, and managed to open just one eye. And then the other. The unfamiliar sight of a high ceiling pulled her further from the dream she’d been having. Something about being on a farm. She sat up, realizing she was on the kitchen floor. A navy-blue pillow rested beside her, and the lower half of her body was wrapped in a soft, matching blanket. Luke must have done that. Gorgeous Luke, who’d settled for watching baby chicks hatch instead of their new nighttime routine.

  She closed her eyes to relive, just for a moment, what they had shared the other night. The feel of his magnificent mouth on her throat. The masterful way he toyed with her lips when they kissed. She could hardly believe she’d given that up, truth be told. But it was for a good cause.

  Just the thought of that cause had her rushing over to the incubator to see if the final eggs had hatched. “Wow,” she breathed, delighted by the new, fluffy appearance of the hatched chicks. Gone was the drowned-kitten look of wet, matted feathers. Now their feathers, ranging from pale gold to spotted gray and brown, were full and puffy, the difference transforming the shape of their very frames. “Good morning, good morning,” she cheered.

  It didn’t take more than a glance to notice that the two delayed eggs still weren’t showing signs of progress. She sighed, nodded, and—after taking care of the pillow and blanket Luke left behind—went about the task of further preparing the bin for the chicks to move into later that day. Along the bottom she spread a layer of old towel scraps. Later, she would switch it to shavings, but Payton had read the cloth would prevent the chicks’ scrawny feet from slipping.

  She flicked on the heat lamp so the temperature in the space would climb before she set the chicks in place. Once the water drip was ready, Payton busied herself around the house. She estimated that at least one in every three thoughts that floated through her mind was centered on Luke. Which said a lot, considering all of the things going on back home. Things she was yet again putting off for another day. At the top of that list sat the chore of replying to her mom’s texts. Something she couldn’t muster the drive to do.

  Jason had stopped by earlier, explaining that he wouldn’t be in for dinner; he and Taylor had some extra work to do on the field and would catch a bite someplace afterward.

  With that in mind, Payton went to work, preparing a very basic meal of canned spaghetti sauce with a box of noodles she’d discovered in the pantry. Since butter made everything taste better (according to Grandma Keller), she added half a stick to the sauce and shook in some salt. Grandma wasn’t kidding—it was way better.

  “Sure smells good,” Luke said as he strode into the kitchen that evening.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see he’d taken a shower as well. Not only did the wavy appearance of his short, wet hair give it away, but also the tiny glistening drops on the surface of his shoulders and bare, muscled chest.

  Payton cleared her throat, musing that her face must be redder than the sauce. “I hope it’s good,” she said. “I used an old family method of ours. Sort of,” she added as his eyes shot to the can resting in the trash. Of course, recent family methods might include anything but adding fat and calories by the half-stick. But the rebellious part of her liked that she was going against that grain.

  “You made dinner for us?” Luke asked with a grin.

  If her face had gained even a moment’s recovery from her blush, she’d lost it now. Something about the way he said us, like they were an item. “I sure did.”

  He grinned wider. “Thank you.” Luke pulled down a plate, handing one to Payton before taking his own. He slid open the drawer next and did the same with the forks. “So how was your day, dear?” He shot her a wink, then motioned with the nod of his head that she should dish up first.

  “Well, sugar bear,” she said with a laugh, “my day was good. Sadly, there hasn’t been much action from our two stubborn eggs over there, but the rest of them are behaving.”

  Luke shook his head. “Kids,” he said. “I think they got that stubborn streak from you.”

  She giggled, liking this playful side of him. “Maybe. But we probably should’ve discussed how many we were going to have. A dozen seems like an awful lot.” She poured a giant ladleful of sauce onto her steaming, tube-shaped pasta, then handed the ladle to Luke, who was flashing the most gorgeous dimple in his cheek.

  “I kept telling you we should hold up,” he claimed, “but when you get begging for more, I just can’t say no.”

  “Oh, so I was doing the begging, huh?”

  His smile remained as he motioned toward the dining room table. “Oh, I meant to say that Jason and Taylor will be out late. They’re setting up a bunch of traps. I told Jason he didn’t have to go along, but the kid loves that kind of stuff.”

  “I’m glad he likes it here so much,” she admitted.

  Luke shot her a surprised look. “Did … did you just say that out loud?”

  “I’m not some evil sister trying to ruin his life. I thought I was rescuing him by coming out here. Or at least rescuing my family, which is the bigger picture.” Everything had to be sacrificed for the sake of that bigger picture.

  During dinner, Luke shared a couple of stories regarding Jason and Taylor. Things the two had done to get a rise out of him or Bob, one that even involved the sheriff. Soon the conversation shifted to talk about family dynamics.

  “Ross used to boss me around like crazy. Go put your cup in the sink. Don’t take that sandwich into the den. Stop dragging your blanket on the ground.”

  “Your blankie?” Payton teased.

  “I said blanket, not blankie. Besides,” he added with a shrug, “I was three years old. I loved my blankie. Anyway, that continued until I passed him up in height. As soon as that happened,” Luke continued, “Ross moved right on to Taylor. Began bossing him around instead.”

  Payton could picture it now. Uptight Ross telling the other kids what to do. “How old were you when you passed him up in height?”

  He shot her a triumphant grin. “Eight.”

  “No way!”

  He nodded. “Poor Tay Tay took the brunt of it. At least when I wasn’t around.”

  “Hmm. Did you used to call him that—Tay Tay?”

  Luke nodded. “Everyone did. The baby of the family, and all.”

  “We used to call Jason Jay Jay.” She slid her chair out and headed back into the kitchen for the pitcher of ice water she’d placed in the fridge. She always loved how her grandmother did that when they had dinner over there. The way the ice clanked against the glass every time someone refilled.

  “It’s funny,” Payton said, “speaking of bossing people around as kids … I feel like I’ve been the boss of just about everyone in the family, at least part of the time. My parents went through a lot of tumult, I guess you’d say. And every time things got out of hand—my mom threatening to leave if A, B, or C didn’t happen—I’d step in and somehow get everyone back into shape.”

  She shook her head as she returned to the table with the pitcher and two glasses. Payton filled one up for Luke and slid it over before filling
her own. “So here you are, sharing normal, sibling rivalry stories,” she said, “and all I’ve got to offer is some bizarre level of family dysfunction.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the truth of it. May as well; it wasn’t as if she could go back and change things now. After a few gulps of water, she scooted her bowl closer, shifting the few noodles left from one edge of her plate to the next.

  “We all have dysfunction in our life,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

  “Yeah, but you have normal stuff.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe so. But that’s what keeps things interesting, isn’t it? The differences between us.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He held her gaze, that look in his eyes speaking a language all its own. She liked the way he really listened, rather than having his face aimed at some small device in his hand. She liked being able to return that same kind of attention. It was nice. More than that, it felt intimate. Like they’d compacted months of getting to know you time into two short weeks.

  And getting to know him had been a whole lot different than she might have guessed. In fact, Payton had never been more intrigued by a man in all her life.

  The conversation continued as they cleaned up the kitchen, Luke teasing her with the bump of his hip before smudging a dab of bubbles on her nose. It all felt so normal.

  “Well, should we go check on the kids?” she asked, hanging the dish towel on the oven handle.

  Luke tilted his head slowly to one side as if deeply considering the question. “I was thinking maybe we should get a sitter tonight, actually.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” she asked with a laugh. Still, they headed into the mudroom, rounding the chairs Luke had dragged over the night before. As much as Payton wanted to see the stragglers come out of their shells once and for all, she found herself almost hoping they hadn’t started up just yet.

  “I like what you did with their room,” Luke said, nodding at the bin they would soon move the chicks into.

  “Thanks. I’m pretty happy with the colors.” She worked to wipe the silly schoolgirl grin off her face as she set her attention on the sight in the incubator, a mass of peeping, wiggling chicks. She set her focus on the two stationary eggs, and realized that something had happened indeed. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed, bringing her face closer to the glass. “There’s a hole in one of the eggs and it’s moving!”

  “You’re kidding,” he said, getting his face closer to hers. “What about the other one?”

  Payton tipped her head to see the hidden side of the other egg. “It’s hard to tell. There’s a chick cuddled up to it.”

  “I wonder if that’s the same one who was resting on it the other day. He had his little chin propped on the egg, like his long-lost buddy was tucked inside.”

  The idea added to the concern Payton felt for the lagging egg. “That’s so sad,” she said, shifting her gaze back to the one making progress. “All these other little chicks bumping around, and yet he’s still lonely.”

  “When are we supposed to move these guys to this other thing?” Luke asked.

  Payton tilted her head. “I think we should probably do that by tonight. Maybe since there’s another one hatching right now, we can leave the one who likes being next to the egg in there with him.” She scratched her head. She’d read so many articles on the subject, she could hardly remember what was what. The information she’d learned from the videos swam through her mind as well, but even those conflicted one with another. “I really don’t want to mess these guys up,” she said in barely a whisper.

  Luke gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. “You won’t. It’s not rocket science. If they’re strong enough to survive outside those shells, they will. We’ll keep them fed and watered until it’s time to put them outside.”

  She eyed the corners of the cubed environment. The incubator simulated the sun, humidity of the outside world, and in essence, the mother’s nesting place. Those who survived had to often leave the comfort of what they’d known in order to gain something greater. Payton had just never known that that something greater wouldn’t be found in the next fashion contract or runway show. It was no other than this cozy spot in Phillipsburg, Montana, where she’d found something that felt an awful lot like love. But despite the draw she felt toward Luke, and to the country life itself, Payton wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to fully live it. In fact, sooner than later, she’d be forced to face the life she’d left behind.

  Luke stifled a yawn as he glanced at the time. Almost midnight. Payton sat hovered over the round, metal bin they’d prepared for the chicks. Talking gently one moment, and giggling aloud the next.

  “Oh my gosh, these guys are cracking me up,” she said, wiping at the corner of her eye. “Who would’ve known something like this would be so … enjoyable? I love it.”

  Luke smiled, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss her lips. “I’m glad,” he said. “I love it too. Well, I love watching you enjoy them, I should say. I’m too manly to get into things like baby chicks.” He chuckled under his breath, setting his attention back to the sight inside the incubator. The chick with a hole in its shell had made its way out completely. “Well, what do we have here?” He leaned down to put his face beside the glass as Payton had done. “Welcome to the world, little one. Glad you could make it to the party.”

  Payton gave out a cute little laugh. “Is your friend going to make it too?” she asked. But then she leaned to one side. Her eyes widened. “Oh. My. Goodness.”

  “What?” Luke asked, leaning to see what had gained her attention.

  “The one with the little friend beside it is moving!” She shot to her feet and began to jump and clap. “Can you believe it? This is happening! It’s actually happening.”

  Luke stood up in time to receive an exuberant hug.

  Payton squealed and took a seat on the chair she’d been in earlier. “Come on, little guy. You can do it. You can do it. Tell him, Feathers,” she said to the one by the egg. “Tell him he can do it.”

  Luke cleared his throat and channeled the highest, smallest voice he could muster. “You can do it, Ralphie,” he squeaked.

  “Oh, that’s his name?”

  He shrugged. “You named that one Feathers. I guess I named that one Ralphie.”

  Payton grinned. “Fair enough, but we have to name the one that just now hatched too. So only the ones left in the incubator will have names, how’s that?”

  “Sounds good to me. How about we call him Rocky, since he rocked that egg a whole lot as he was trying to get out.”

  “I like that,” she said, turning her attention back to the glowing box. “So Rocky’s fresh out of the egg. Feather’s been out for a while now. And Ralphie’s finally thinking about joining the crowd. Let’s see if he can do it.”

  Luke nodded in agreement, hoping he and Payton had a lot more nights like this ahead of them. Not where they huddled around freshly hatched chicks necessarily, but nights where they spent time together, rode horses together. Shared new adventures, too.

  Another hour passed. And then another. Had this been the first night of its kind, Luke might have made it further along. As it was, he continued to doze off, waking only when his head fell forward or back far enough to jerk him awake. He woke up to find Payton resting her forehead on the glass one time, her eyes wide awake as she watched. Another time he found her glued to her laptop, watching some sort of video about late hatchers.

  But the last time he woke, it was to an entirely different picture. The hardwood floor took up the closest view, but after he blinked, let his eyes adjust to the dining room light, he was able to set his focus on a different sight. The two chairs in the mudroom were empty.

  He sat up and looked around the room, startled when the most important part of that scene was missing. Once his gaze shifted to the kitchen table beside him, he saw her, bending the neck of an adjustable table lamp so that it hovered a few feet from the surface. He recognized the lamp; it was
from Doug’s room.

  “I’m doing it,” she said, seeming to know he’d just woken up.

  Luke sniffed and stretched, forcing himself to sit up. “Sorry I fell asleep on you again.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine. I just can’t watch anymore. He was struggling and struggling so hard to break through, and right when I thought he might really do it, he just … ran out of steam.” Tears glistened off her flushed cheeks as she shook her head.

  “So then,” she continued, “he waited, like, twenty minutes before trying again, but that time he only went for a minute or so before giving up again. I read that was normal for some, but I also read that this is how it starts with the ones that are too weak to make it on their own, and I swear I can tell that he’s dying in there. Gasping for these little breaths. Making the tiniest little effort with these stifled peeps …”

  The tremble Luke heard in her voice had him on his feet in a blink. Vertigo kicked in as he shuffled toward the dining room chairs, but he braced himself with the wall and took a few breaths until it subsided. “Can I help you with that?” he asked. She hadn’t exactly said what it was, but he already knew. She was going to help Ralphie out of his shell.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled. “Would you mind sitting next to me while I do it? I’ve got a heated towel in the microwave.” She shoved away from the table and scurried into the kitchen to retrieve it.

  In seconds she was back, placing the warmed cloth on the table beneath the lowered light. She looked at Luke. “I’m bringing Ralphie over. Or maybe you could do it,” she suggested. “Just super carefully, and then close the lid quick so that Feathers and Rocky don’t get cold.”

  “Gotcha,” he said. Feathers really was faithful; the little guy still stood by the egg’s side, nudging it a bit with his beak. “We’re going to get your little friend out of here, okay, buddy?”

  The thing peeped wildly as Luke reached to get the egg. So tiny. Much smaller now that it was in his palm. Gently, he shuffled to where Payton sat, concern etched on her pretty face.