This Cowboy's a Keeper

by Kimberly Krey

  “Right here,” she whispered, patting the small folded towel before her.

  He rested the egg carefully in place, making sure the small hole faced upward, and then sat on the chair beside her, further observing the tiny shell. He leaned closer, noticed the appearance of a pale pink beak, along with the slightest peek of a dark, flat, and wet-looking feather. The little creature had remained so lifeless that Luke wondered if it had already died.

  He gulped, not wanting to so much as blink.

  Suddenly the egg pulsed, its tiny shell expanding like the beat of a heart. Or the exhausted pull of a breath. The frail-looking form wiggled and stretched the slightest bit, then went lifeless once more.

  “See what I mean?” Payton said, her voice pleading.

  Luke nodded, a new sort of urgency gripping hold of him. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s get Ralphie out.”

  She picked up a small pair of tweezers resting beside the egg and set to work, pressing the sharp, beak-like tip of the tweezers into the surface of the shell. Shallow, miniscule pricks. She turned the egg the slightest bit, continuing with the motion until she came back to the little hole the chick had managed to make.

  Her father had been a plastic surgeon for years, which probably required a whole lot of dexterity skill and attention to detail—things Payton demonstrated as she went.

  “Come on, Ralphie,” she cooed, bringing her face close to the tiny form. “You can do it. Just … press your way out of here now.” She set down the tweezers, waited for any signs of movement or life. “It’s better if they do at least some of this on their own,” Payton mumbled. “Besides, if I tear that little lining inside, he’ll probably bleed out.”

  The background noise of peeping chicks grew louder then, reminding him of the ones that had survived, even if this one didn’t.

  Payton shook her head, fighting the quiver of her bottom lip. “My grandpa used to tell us how Jesus talked about saving the one, you know?” Tears formed in her warm brown eyes as she turned to Luke, her face just inches from his.

  He cleared his throat, nodded. “Yeah, I’m familiar with that. He leaves the ninety-nine for the one.”

  She glanced back at the egg. “It’s stupid, but I thought I was doing that by going off to rescue Jason. Like he was the one who’d gone astray. And then I get here and I realize that that’s not the case at all.” She shrugged, wiping a tear that slipped down her silky-looking cheek. “But this … I know there are a bunch of chicks over there, and that I should be happy that we at least have them, but all I can think about is how we’re going to save this one. And am I meant to save him, or is this just that stubborn side of me that wants to control everything and make it go my way?”

  Luke shook his head, brought a hand to the side of her face. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said, moving in to press a kiss to her lips. Different from the passion-driven kisses they’d shared by the fire. Kisses fueled by wants and lusts for something they’d both gone without. Or maybe it had been fear urging them on previously. Fear that things between them might never work out. That Payton could walk right out of his life as quickly as she’d stomped in.

  But as Payton returned his kiss in the late, unknown hour, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him close, their connection reached new, unchartered depths. Depths they explored with drawn-out kisses, gentle touches, and the kind of patience that could stretch on for years. He’d gladly dwell in this place of discovery—her likes, dislikes. Wants and needs. Hearing stories of her grandparents, each revealing where Payton had received that core kindness. The knowledge of what was right, despite her parents’ warped display of priorities.

  He wasn’t sure how long they kissed before Payton tapped the back of his neck. “Did you hear that?” she whispered against his mouth.

  Luke rested his forehead on hers, working to pull himself from the trance he’d fallen under. “Hear what?” But then he did hear it. The tiny crackling sound of an eggshell. He glanced down at the table and saw the egg stretching apart, the little crack Payton had made down the center growing as a tiny face appeared in the open space.

  “He’s doing it,” Luke whispered, his heart pulling in an entirely new direction.

  Payton squealed, wrapping a hand around Luke’s bicep before nudging her head against his shoulder. “Come on, Ralphie,” she urged, “you’ve got this.”

  Luke’s mind raced back to the concern he’d seen on Payton’s face over the little unhatched creature. The meticulous way she’d separated the shell in two. And the moment she spoke of her tendency to go about things the wrong way.

  He’d seen a real shift in her, an unmistakable one. Which was good, considering how far from his own tendencies Luke had veered. Love wasn’t something he’d been real open to over the years. Perhaps he’d been worrying for nothing all that time. Maybe love and relationships weren’t so complicated after all.

  Yet just as that thought came to him, that wedge of fear came back. Sharp and bitter, like a razor made of rock salt. It took only a moment to validate that fear with several sinking truths: Payton was fresh off a breakup. In fact, she’d been engaged only a few days ago. She was going through something with her family as well, ignoring calls and texts from home. It was as if they’d stepped into this world of fantasy together, and it was as wonderful as any dream world might be. But at some point, people had to wake up.

  Perhaps it was simply the lack of sleep talking, but as much as he didn’t want to revert to his pessimistic ways, Luke began searching for a way to tame his feelings for the world’s one and only Payton Keller. Who—like it or not—was destined to return to her roots.

  Chapter 21

  “Holy smokes, would you look at these two? Cuddled up together like a couple of lovebirds.”

  Payton recognized Taylor’s voice in her sleep, but that didn’t mean she could get herself to respond to it.

  “You better get up quick if you don’t want your mom seeing you like this.”

  That was enough to make her eyes pop open. “Dee’s here?” she asked, pushing herself off the floor. Scratch that—off of Luke’s chest, where he lay on the floor. She remembered putting Ralphie back in the incubator with Feathers, watching the two for a solid hour, and then … cuddling up with Luke nearby, not wanting to stray too far from the newborn chick.

  “Not our mom,” Taylor said, tapping the bottom of Luke’s foot with the toe of his boot. He gave Payton a wicked grin. “Your mom is here.”

  “Payton?” came her mom’s frantic voice from the front room. “Jason?” she hollered next.

  Payton scrambled to her feet and patted at her hair and clothes. She shot a pleading look at Taylor. “Where is Jason?” she hissed.

  “Gone working on the field already,” Taylor mumbled.

  Dang! She didn’t even have Jason there as a buffer. “Hold her off for a minute, please.” Payton bent down to pat Luke, who’d rolled onto his stomach. “Wake up,” she said under her breath.

  “Pssst,” Taylor blurted. “I’ll try to buy you a minute.” The kid strode casually back through the kitchen with slow, even boot steps and toward the walkway leading to the front room. “Why, look who we have here! If it isn’t Mama Keller. My name’s Taylor Branson. Welcome to Branson Ranch. How can I help you this fine morning?”

  Payton watched as Luke turned onto his back and stretched. He was taking forever.

  “I’m here to get my kids, Taylor,” Olivia said. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but they’re both ignoring the very woman who gave birth to them.”

  Payton rolled her eyes as she scurried into the mudroom and slowly closed the door. Luke would have to hold his own for now; the last thing she wanted her mother to think was that she was shacking up with what she’d view as some country hick.

  A quick glance at the incubator said the chicks were happy as larks. Feathers nuzzled his beak against the newborn’s neck with a sigh. Already Ralphie’s appearance had changed. The tiny feathers coating his bod
y were starting to fluff.

  Thank you, Lord, for helping us save him.

  “What kind of rogue cowboy do we have here?” Olivia gasped from the other side of the door.

  Payton was determined to get into a more polished state before her mother saw her, but she had to hear Luke’s reply. She’d nearly fed him right to the wolves, or at least, Hollywood’s she-wolf in high-fashion clothing.

  “You’ll have to excuse me, ma’am,” Luke said, coating the words in a country twang. “When folks pop in here on their own accord, they can’t be too sure of what they’re going to find, now, can they? Least I’m wearing clothes this morning. When your daughter showed up, it was a different story.”

  Payton rushed to the bathroom with a dropped jaw and shut the door, envisioning her mother’s reaction to the ill-mannered cowboy who’d been snoozing on the dining room floor of his bachelor pad.

  There was no escaping Luke’s good looks and rugged appeal, but he was no respecter of persons, as Gramps used to quote. Trouble was, most people were. The Kellers were recognized a mile away, and they were usually treated like royalty. Her mom was probably suffering from chest pain and heat flashes at the thought of her only daughter running wild with a rebellious scoundrel who drank himself under the table each night.

  An unexpected chuckle passed through her lips as she tore off her clothes. Who cared what her mother came across while Payton was behind the closed shower door? She just needed a minute to think about what she was going to do.

  Holy crap! I can’t believe she actually came out here. The horror was barely starting to grip hold of her when a massive pounding came to the door.

  “Payton? Jason? Who’s in here?”

  Payton’s cotton top slipped from her fingers and dropped to the cool, rock-slated floor. “Mom?” she squeaked. “I’m taking a shower. I’ll be out in a minute.” She hurried to get under the stream, flinching as she realized it was already hot. Very hot.

  “Well, I’ll be waiting, young lady. And I’m not about to leave here until I have both of my children with me—a kid at either side—as I step onto that jet.”

  Payton’s shoulders tensed as if the puppet master had just pulled the strings. The rest of her body felt heavy and slow, like every muscle wanted to collapse. Give in to the sudden pull of sadness and defeat.

  With limp fingers, she snatched hold of her loofah and smeared it over her body without an ounce of soap. Fragrant hints of her melon body wash lingered in the sponge just the same, reminding her of more pleasant times there. Times where Payton had bathed, knowing she’d spend moments with Luke once she was through.

  Voices continued to go back and forth, but the running water and closed door made it hard to tell whose voice was whose. It could be that Luke was trying to make Mom see—as he’d done with Payton—that people couldn’t go around ruling the lives of others. And that even parents had to let go at some point. Or maybe it was Taylor defending her while Luke took cover in a shower of his own. Jason could have come back as well …

  The idea gave her hope. Someone else who’d refused to go home just because their parents said so.

  Wow, she could hardly believe the turnaround that had taken place in the last few days. Was Payton really on Jason’s side? Did she agree with the Bransons more than the Kellers? And just who was to say what the Kellers were all about? Heck, she and Jason made up half of the family. The less powerful half, granted, but it was still half. Which was probably why Mom was so upset. Her only kids had abandoned her. And with fall semester about to start, the tabloids were most likely on full alert, ready to talk if Jason didn’t make an appearance.

  Guilt crashed in like an angry kick to a bruised chest. Payton wasn’t sure how she’d gotten out from under it the first time, but already it was back with a vengeance. She sped through the process of washing her hair, barely letting the conditioner set before rinsing it. She shut the water off then, let the loofah drop to the base of the shower, and sighed.

  Payton hated having her mother see her without her hair done, makeup ready, clothes just right. It was the worst sort of scrutiny. Almost worse than having some tabloid post a picture of her taking out the trash in cutoff sweats and slipper boots. Why don’t you do something about those freckles? Dad’s friend Carlos could make them disappear in a California minute.

  After a long bout of insecurity, Payton had come to love her freckles, but that didn’t mean she didn’t cover them up. At great lengths, most of the time. Anything to keep Mom’s ugly comments at bay.

  “You done in there?” came Mom’s voice again.

  Payton watched the last bit of water slip down the drain, her buffer of time going right along with it. “Yep,” she managed. “Be out in a sec.”

  Chapter 22

  Luke paced along the front porch, shaking his head in frustration. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way Olivia Keller had shown up at his house unannounced demanding that Luke send her kids “back home where they belonged.” Talk about déjà vu. It was like Payton showing up at his door all over again.

  But that wasn’t exactly true. Sure, Luke hadn’t wanted to say goodbye to Jason, and he’d felt strongly about the kid’s right to choose for himself, but his feelings then were nothing compared to the disruption happening inside him now. The mere thought of losing Payton—having her take off, never to return—caused earthquakes to erupt deep in his chest.

  The door gave out a creak, and Luke spun around to see who’d stepped onto the porch with him. The sight of Taylor’s boots wasn’t much of a surprise; chances were Payton and her mom would be making a whole lot of noise when they came out. If they both made it out alive.

  “Well?” Luke said, giving his brother an expectant look.

  Taylor shook his head. “Payton went straight from the bathroom to Doug’s room. Said she’ll be out after she gets some clothes on.”

  Luke nodded. Hopefully she was just preparing to tell her mother that she was right where she wanted to be and no one was going to tell her what to do. But it was possible that that’s not what Payton had in mind.

  Perhaps it had come to that jig is up point. She’d escaped her prison of a life for a bit, had an enjoyable time while she was out, but now it was time to go back into purgatory. Spend her years as the Kellers were destined to—a slave to the critical public eye.

  Luke sunk into a tall-back rocking chair on the porch. Taylor strode across the wood, his slow steps dragging before he lowered himself onto the matching chair beside him.

  “I don’t want to lose her,” Luke mumbled, feeling more vulnerable than he had in years.

  Taylor nodded, running a hand through his short curls before bowing his head. “Hopefully you won’t, man.”

  The reply made Luke wonder if his younger brother knew about his and Payton’s late-night rendezvous. If so, Jason knew too. It brought a different question to mind.

  “You think Jason ratted out his sister? Like, to get her out of his hair or something?” But Luke knew that wasn’t really an option at all. “Never mind,” he spat, hoping to avoid the wrath of Taylor’s reply. “I know he wouldn’t have done that.”

  “You’re right,” Taylor said. “If anything, the guy’s been rooting for you two. Why do you think he kept giving you so much alone time?”

  Encouragement sprouted in his chest at the words. “You’re kidding—” But the sound of Payton’s voice stopped him short.

  “… try all you want, but I’m not going to go home with you,” she hollered from inside the house.

  He couldn’t help but revel in the sound of those stubborn words. Words he’d been hoping to hear her say.

  “We’ll see about that,” Olivia snapped, the sound of her all-too-assured voice growing closer. “All I ask is that you come have lunch with me. You owe me that much.”

  Luke and Taylor hurried to their feet as the door flew open. Out marched Olivia Keller in all her camera-ready glory. Chin lifted, eyes darting toward the dirt road.

&nbs
p; Luke shot a glance in that direction and noticed a black town car in the driveway, a suited man poised behind the wheel. Payton stomped out next. Her red hair, still wet enough to drip onto the wooden slats, hung at either side of her face. From what he could tell, she looked a whole lot like she had the first night she’d come out in her silk nightie and damp hair.

  Payton’s brown eyes met his, and her expression transformed. The narrowed, angry set of her gaze softening as she searched his face in silence. So beautiful. Naturally so.

  Olivia cleared her throat and folded her arms over her chest, the action causing sunlight to bounce off her sequin-covered jacket.

  Payton shot her mom a look before smiling at Taylor. “See you guys soon.” She set her gaze back on Luke and took three long strides toward him. Her hand wrapped up the back of his neck as she brought her lips to his ear.

  Luke’s pulse revved like a tractor’s engine.

  “Payton …” her mother growled.

  “I’ll be back,” Payton mumbled. “Watch the kiddos for me, will you?” Her breath teased the spot just below his earlobe.

  He nodded. “Yep. I mean, yeah. Of course.” He worked to calm the burning in his belly at her touch. Just as he thought she would drop her arm and walk away from him, Payton slid her hand down his chest and came in for a kiss.

  As much as Luke wanted to tune in to the gift of her lips on his, the gasp that tore from the other side of the porch made it impossible.

  Payton pulled back and gave him a conspiratorial grin. “I’ll be home soon, honey pie.”

  Dang, he liked hearing her say that. Even if it was for someone else’s benefit. Even if the benefit from that comment was infuriating a woman who would never approve of a lone rancher from Montana, no matter how much money he had.

  Olivia shoved her hand into the bend of Payton’s arm and yanked her toward the porch steps. The suited gentleman stepped out of the waiting vehicle and nodded toward the women as they approached. He opened the back door of the car for them, and Olivia motioned for Payton to go first.