Her Cowboy Dilemma

by C. J. Carmichael

  Leaving her mother was not so hard. Cassidy had moved past her anger into a cooler place where she could still appreciate all that her mother had done for her, while, at the same time, freeing herself of the burden of trying to please Olive and make her proud.

  So when her mother turned on the tears, Cassidy refused to be swayed into feeling guilty. She said her farewells, hugged and kissed her family, who had gathered at the porch to say goodbye, then headed for her truck.

  A bark from Sky was the only thing that made her cry. She turned for a final look at her dog, then got behind the wheel and drove straight through to Billings without stopping.

  She’d done some searching on the Net and had three appointments set up to look at apartments. She chose one on the ground floor of a lovely brick complex, only eight blocks from her office.

  Next she went shopping and found a new suit, skirt and several blouses to mix and match.

  And then it was her first day. She could hardly sleep the night before, and arrived at the office fifteen minutes early. Josh arrived next, and she was shocked at how little she felt when she saw him.

  He gave her a hug and told her he’d missed her.

  But inside all she had was a big void.

  Adrienne came next, one minute before nine and Cassidy was awed by how professional and elegant she looked. She was wearing a similar outfit to Cassidy—skirt, jacket and blouse. Yet Adrienne wore them with a natural grace that Cassidy just didn’t feel.

  They were given an orientation by Pamela. Then introduced to the managers under whom they’d be working. The first day involved reviewing manuals and signing lots of paperwork. On Tuesday they were assigned clients and reviewed files and given jobs of photocopying papers and making up schedules. Wednesday Cassidy accompanied her manager to her first client meeting. Thursday she was put to work finding documentation for certain expense transactions, a job that continued to Friday and, she was told, would probably take her the rest of the next week to complete.

  Cassidy felt her spirits drop. The job was turning out so different from what she’d expected. She glanced out the window. The blue sky teased her. She wondered about her family, her dog and her horse. Mostly, she wondered about Farley. Was he missing her at all?

  * * *

  ANGER DROVE FARLEY for several days after Cassidy left Coffee Creek. The damned woman had toyed with him like he was a mouse.

  Again.

  And he’d let her.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  By Thursday, that story wasn’t washing anymore. After dinner, when he was out walking with his dogs, he finally admitted the truth. Cassidy wasn’t into manipulating or playing games. If she’d slept with him, it had to have meant something to her.

  Trouble was, the meaning had been inconvenient. It hadn’t fit into her plan.

  And so she’d run.

  And what had he done? Taken offense and pulled back.

  Never once had he told her how he really felt about her. Never once had he put his heart—and his pride—on the line and said the words.

  Once, he’d told her that if she wanted something, she should go after it.

  Didn’t the same advice apply to him?

  Farley went into the office to check his appointments for the next day. As usual his schedule was booked solid.

  He could always wait for Saturday. But his gut told him no. It had to be tomorrow.

  He slashed a black line through his afternoon appointments. Liz would make the phone calls for him.

  After lunch, he’d be on the road.

  * * *

  FRIDAY AT FIVE, they were all back at the office. Cassidy had never been so happy to see the end of a work week.

  “We have to hit the bar,” Josh said, clearing off his workstation.

  “Absolutely,” Adrienne agreed. “My manager tells me a lot of the first and second years go to the Irish pub on the corner. How does that sound?”

  “Good with me,” Josh said. “Cass, you coming?”

  She walked by the Silver Unicorn every day to and from work. It was a dark, low-ceilinged place. No outside patio. She was longing for sunshine and clean air, but she said yes anyway, just to be sociable.

  Her stomach was churning as they rode the elevator down to the lobby level. She’d been on edge all week, anxious to do a good job and, more important, not screw up.

  But that desire to perform well had hidden other feelings. Something awful was swelling and intensifying inside of her. She didn’t know what it was. But even breathing seemed to be harder with each passing second.

  As soon as she stepped out of the revolving door to the street, Cassidy realized that the feeling she’d been unable to name was suffocation.

  She hated the new job. Just hated it.

  She didn’t like the city, the sidewalks, the pollution or the noise.

  How could she have done this? She’d studied so hard for her degree. She’d dedicated the past five years to it.

  And yet, now that her goal was in hand, she’d never been so unhappy.

  She took a deep breath and knew that she couldn’t go to the pub tonight.

  She couldn’t go back to the office on Monday, either. She was no quitter, but there was no sense in spending her life in a place where she didn’t belong. It was really as simple as that.

  Josh and Adrienne were still by her side. She didn’t know what to tell them. But suddenly Adrienne stopped. “Wow. Check out that cowboy at eleven o’clock. Is he hot, or what?”

  Cassidy looked.

  Adrienne had spotted one hot cowboy all right. He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed entirely in black, leaning against a concrete pillar, one cowboy boot crossed casually over the other.

  As soon as her gaze landed on him, he touched the brim of his hat in acknowledgment.

  “My, oh, my.” Adrienne patted a hand over her sleek brown hair. “He’s looking right at me as if he knows me or something.”

  “He’s hot all right,” Cassidy agreed. “But he’s mine.”

  She reached down and took off the high-heeled shoes that had started blisters on the back of her heels. In bare feet she walked over the hot concrete path and dropped the shoes into a handy trash can. Good riddance to you.

  “Way to go, sister,” cheered a woman wearing white running shoes with her suit.

  Cassidy smiled, but kept walking in a line that would take her straight to Farley. He was the last person she’d ever expected to see here.

  But, she now realized, he was also the only one she really wanted.

  With every step she drew closer to him. And he was smiling. Momentarily she felt a pang of sorrow for all she was leaving behind. She’d had so many hopes and aspirations.

  But she saw now that it had never been something she wanted. Only something her mother didn’t want her to want.

  She’d spent the past five years in a pretty confused state. Between trying to think for herself and avoid her mother’s attempts at manipulation, she’d forgotten to do the most important thing.

  Follow her heart.

  When she reached him, Farley held out his arms and swept her feet right off the ground.

  “I missed you,” he said. “And I’ve come to get you. But only if you’re ready to be mine. No more running.”

  She looked into his eyes, so steadfast, so true. There was something powerful between them, and it had been there from the start. At twenty-one it had scared her. But now she understood that far from being subsumed by it, she would be made stronger by it and more fulfilled.

  “I love you, Farley.”

  And then he kissed her.

  Epilogue

  It was Saturday night at the Wild Rogue Rodeo in Central Point, Oregon. Steer wrestling was just a hobby for Farley, something he did for a change of pace from the relentless hard work of his veterinary practice.

  Although he’d brushed up on his skills at the steer wrestling clinic at Monahan’s, he hadn’t really expected to place at the rodeo. He was
just here for fun and the companionship of some people who meant a lot to him.

  But he’d done unexpectedly well on Thursday and Friday. And if he did as well tonight, he’d go home with some money. And maybe even a trophy.

  But all of that was just gravy to him now.

  The announcer was calling his name. “Next up we have Dan Farley, a vet from Coffee Creek, Montana, here to show us that he has a few bulldogging skills, as well...”

  The voice faded as Farley concentrated on what he was doing. B.J. Lambert had agreed to be his hazer and he was on the other side of the chute where the steer would momentarily be running from. B.J. would keep that steer moving in a straight line. The rest was up to him.

  He urged his mount into position. At the same time he heard a sweet voice holler from the crowd. “You can do it, Farley!”

  Cassidy. She was waving her hat, her blond hair blowing crazily in the breeze.

  His back went straighter, his head prouder. With a girl like Cassidy Lambert cheering for him, how could he ever fail?

  He gave a nod and the chute man tripped the lever. Out raced the revved-up longhorn—six hundred pounds of him, in Farley’s estimation.

  The second the barrier released, Farley was off, too. His horse was a dream, bringing him right up to the sweet zone. With a leap of faith he leaned over his horse and grabbed for the steer’s horns. For a second he was out there—hanging in the air while his horse ran flat-out.

  The next, he had an elbow crooked around one horn, a fist over the other.

  He wasn’t thinking or planning now, just moving on instinct. He felt his boots slip out of the stirrups and he slid to the left, pulling the steer’s head until he had the nose nestled up in the crook of his arm.

  The legs were up. The horn sounded.

  “5.6 seconds!”

  Farley released the steer, then found his footing. He was sure he could hear Cassidy cheering above the roar of the crowd. His time wouldn’t win him any records. But it might just get him the top ranking for the night.

  He brushed the dust from his legs, waved his hat at the crowd, then hurried out of the arena. His shoulders ached a lot. He was getting old for this sport. But what a rush.

  * * *

  CASSIDY WANTED TO find Farley and congratulate him on his performance. She was so proud of him. He’d been competing against some pretty serious cowboys tonight and he’d beat them all!

  She hoped to do him proud, too, in the barrel racing event. But she also knew it wouldn’t pay to set her expectations too high. She’d been doing a lot of training this past month at Monahan’s—Straws had offered her a full-time position when he heard she’d quit the job in Billings—but she’d also been away from the sport for a long time.

  And she’d never before competed in a bona fide PRCA sanctioned rodeo.

  She wiped her hands nervously on her cream-colored jeans. She’d chosen a golden Western-styled shirt for her top, and her hat had a matching gold band. The colors worked perfectly with both her coloring and Lucy’s.

  Her mother had made her a gift of the horse when she came back from Billings. She’d been gracious about it, too, but then she’d been proven right, hadn’t she?

  It still galled Cassidy to admit it.

  Her mother had known she belonged in the country. And she’d known Farley was the right man for her, as well. If she had only stepped back and let nature take its course, Cassidy figured she could have saved herself—and those she loved—from a lot of heartache and grief.

  But stepping back was never going to be Olive’s way.

  And for good, and bad, her mother was a force in her life that she was always going to have to deal with.

  Before Cassidy knew it, the barrel racing had started. She was the sixth and final contestant. She heard the excitement of the crowd as she and Lucy lined up at the gate.

  “And here she is, the golden girl and her golden horse from Coffee Creek, Montana. Don’t they make a pretty picture? This is Cassidy Lambert and her palomino Lucky Lucy. I’m betting Cassidy won’t be needing any luck tonight. Not based on what we saw from her last night.”

  Cassidy was so nervous she thought she was going to be sick. And then she caught Farley’s eyes, standing off to the side near the chutes for the bucking horses. He nodded at her, and she could almost hear his calm, strong voice inside her head.

  “You’re my girl, Cassidy. You can do anything.”

  And she felt that she could. His love took all the best things about her and made them better. She ran a hand down Lucy’s neck, then leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Be my lucky girl. Let’s go!”

  * * *

  THOUGH IT WAS well-known that Olive did not care for the rodeo, she went to Central Point, Oregon, that weekend to see her eldest son, daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law compete. That was one thing about her mom, Cassidy thought. She always put her kids first. And it did seem Olive was proud when Cassidy came in third for barrel racing. Farley placed first for steer wrestling and B.J. won both the saddle bronc and tie-down roping events, ending up the big winner of a thirty-five-thousand-dollar prize.

  Olive congratulated them at the end of the ceremony, then excused herself. Much as she didn’t like the rodeo, she especially hated the partying that went on afterward.

  Cassidy and Farley, however, were happy to go to the Rogue Saloon and socialize with all the other competitors, with B.J. promising to follow once he’d given an interview to some local journalists.

  At the saloon Cassidy and Farley did some socializing.

  And then all Cassidy wanted was to dance with Farley.

  He was holding her in his arms when a song came on that they both instantly recognized. For the first time that night she tripped. And Farley steadied her.

  “You aren’t going to run away this time, I hope?” he whispered in her ear.

  It was the last song they’d danced to four years ago, before she’d panicked and sabotaged their date.

  “I’m never running again,” she promised him.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” He brushed a thumb over the diamond ring he’d given her two weeks ago. “So—had any thoughts about when we should have the wedding?”

  “Soon.” She was anxious to move in with him, and figured Sky would adjust okay—she’d already been accepted as a pal by Tom and Dick.

  “I’m good with that. Just give me a date so I can tell my folks. They’ll want to book a flight.”

  “Are you okay with something small?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Just close family and friends. I’d like it to be at the Coffee Creek Church.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. Their family needed to purge the painful memories of Brock’s wedding-that-never-happened. “And Straws told me we could have the reception in his dining room. It’s beautiful and has such amazing views of the mountains.”

  “Have you talked to your mother about any of this?”

  “Not yet. I want you with me when I do. She’ll have a place of honor at the wedding as my mother, but I don’t want her commandeering the plans, the way she tried to do with Laurel and Corb.”

  Farley remembered. Olive had organized every detail of that event, only to have the young couple elope in New York.

  “I can handle Olive,” he assured her. “You, now, that’s a different story. You have me wrapped around your little finger. You know that, right?”

  She laughed. She’d never been so happy. “I plan to keep you there, too, cowboy. And don’t forget it.”

  * * * * *

  Be sure to come back to Coffee Creek, Montana,

  in July 2013 when B.J. Lambert returns to the family ranch in C.J. Carmichael’s next

  American Romance novel,

  PROMISE FROM A COWBOY!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Cowboy for Keeps by Cathy McDavid

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  Chapter One

  The tie choked worse than a pair of hands around his neck.

  Conner Durham yanked at the knot, loosening the tie, and then ripped it off altogether. He flung the offensive garment onto the passenger seat beside him, where his rumpled suit jacket already lay. The interview, his third with this particular company, had been a complete and utter waste of time.

  He wasn’t getting the job; the hiring manager had said as much before dismissing him with the dreaded “Thanks, we’ll be in touch.”

  Turning his truck onto the long drive leading to Powell Ranch, Conner slowed his speed to the posted ten miles an hour. He’d have to find a different way to vent his frustration other than pressing his pedal to the metal.

  Maybe he’d take Dos Rojo out, work the young gelding in the arena. He and the mustang, named for his distinctive red coloring, were still ironing out the kinks in their relationship, deciding who was in charge. So far, they were even, with Dos Rojo coming out ahead some days, Conner on others.

  Driving past the main horse barn, he headed for his quarters, a four-hundred-square-foot efficiency apartment. Hard to believe a mere six months ago he’d owned a five-bedroom house and spent money as if it did indeed grow on trees.

  No more, and not again in the foreseeable future, unless his luck drastically changed.

  Luck, the lack of it, had to be the reason he couldn’t find a decent job. It certainly wasn’t his qualifications. According to the one-in-twenty prospective employers who’d bothered to contact him after receiving his résumé, he had qualifications coming out his ears. Usually more than the job required.