A Cowboy's Kiss

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Coming up.” She put two cookies on a plate, grabbed a couple of napkins and walked over to a bistro table.

  “I kind of like having the place to ourselves.” Ingrid set down their lattes and pulled out a chair.

  “Me, too.” She sipped her latte. “You make a damned good coffee drink, girlfriend.”

  “Thanks. You make a damned good cookie.”

  She laughed. “Thanks. We’re amazing.”

  “Yep. So tell me, how’s it going with Luke?”

  “It’s…nice.” Her cheeks heated.

  “Just nice?”

  “No. It’s wonderful.”

  “That’s what I wanted to see. You just lit up right then.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s so…kind. I’ve shown him my screwed up record keeping, and he’s not judging me.”

  “What a relief that must be.”

  “You have no idea. I’m still a little embarrassed that I let things get so bad, but one smile from Luke and I get over it.”

  “Wow. You’re serious about the guy.”

  “I am. And I could be wrong, but I think he’s serious about me.”

  Ingrid studied her. “You’re not wrong. I’ve seen how he looks at you. But I am curious as to how you see it working out logistically once your files are in order. You’d think he’d want to spend time at his house.”

  “I’m sure he does. He backed off on the renovations because he’s not out there very often to help.”

  “Would you consider moving out there?”

  “It wouldn’t be as convenient. Besides, he hasn’t asked me.”

  “You might have to get creative. Spend some time out there and some time in your apartment.”

  She nodded. “Where did Roxanne take off to this morning?”

  “She drove into Bozeman to pick up some electronic thingamajig that will boost some other doohickey related to her current job. I don’t pretend to understand, but she was excited.”

  “She does get excited about her work. I predict that she—”

  The front door opened and Kendra came in.

  Abigail stood and brushed cookie crumbs from her fingers so she could go over and give her a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

  “I want a hug, too.” Ingrid left her chair. “Have you been in since last week? I don’t remember seeing you.”

  “I haven’t been in.” Kendra embraced her. “I meant to, and then we had that huge snow Saturday night. Took some time to dig out of that. Luckily I have a lot of helpers.”

  “Luke mentioned that he’s been out a couple of times when he didn’t have client appointments,” Abigail said.

  “He has.” She smiled. “He’s a good guy.”

  “Sure is.”

  “What can we get for you?” Ingrid gestured toward the coffee machine. “I’ve come up with a Valentine coffee I call Love at First Sight.”

  Kendra laughed. “What’s in it?”

  “Chocolate and amaretto, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a candy message heart. I shake the package and dump one out. I let Fate choose what the message will be.”

  “After that buildup, how can I resist?”

  “That’s the idea. One Love at First Sight coming up.”

  “Anything from the bakery case?” Abigail wandered over to it and Kendra followed her.

  “Please. I’m out of brownies and lately I’ve been craving cherry pie.”

  “I only have one left. They’re popular this time of year.”

  “Is it a Valentine’s Day thing?”

  “Nope.” Abigail grinned. “George Washington’s birthday.”

  “You’re pulling my leg.”

  “It’s the truth. After Valentine’s Day is over, customers still buy cherry pies. Where I worked in Rapid City, we always had a run on them in February.”

  “No kidding?”

  “It’s logical.” Behind her, the front door opened. Ingrid welcomed the customer, so Abigail finished her explanation. “George Washington leads to cherry tree which leads to cherry pie. Bingo, you crave cherry pie in February, all because of good old George.”

  “Huh.”

  “Sounds right to me,” said the customer who’d just come in. “I’ve been wanting cherry pie lately, too.”

  Abigail turned. If the man was from Eagles Nest, she’d never seen him before.

  He was tall, maybe six-five, with the wide shoulders and muscular chest of someone who was used to physical work. His legs were slightly bowed, like many of the cowboys around here, including all the McGavin brothers.

  He took off his Stetson to reveal thick brown hair shot through with silver. “I’m Quinn Sawyer, Roxanne’s dad. Is she around?”

  “Oh, my gosh, no, she’s not.” She took his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “I’m Abigail. It’s so good to meet you. Roxanne went to Bozeman this morning. When’s she due back, Ingrid?”

  “She’ll show up any time now. I’ll text her.” She hurried over with Kendra’s drink. “Here’s your Love at First Sight.”

  Roxanne’s dad smiled at Kendra. “Your what?”

  She held it up. “It’s a Valentine drink.”

  “I could make you one, Mr. Sawyer.”

  “Quinn.”

  “Quinn. I’m Ingrid, by the way.”

  “I figured. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” He shook her hand. “Roxanne thinks a lot of you ladies.”

  “We think a lot of her, too. Can I make you one of those drinks? It’ll be on the house.” She looked at Abigail, eyebrows raised.

  “Of course.” No way was she charging Roxanne’s dad for a coffee drink.

  “I don’t know if I should have one.” He glanced at Kendra. “Have you tried yours?”

  “Not yet. Want me to?”

  “Please, if you would, ma’am. Then I can find out whether it makes you fall in love on the spot.”

  She grinned. “It’s coffee, not a love potion.”

  “You can’t be too careful with this sort of thing. I notice it’s topped with one of those little candy hearts with something written on it, maybe a magic spell. What’s it say?”

  “Let me check.” She turned the drink so she could read it. “I’m yours.”

  “Now, see, those are two powerful words. No telling what’s going to happen when you take a drink.”

  “We’re about to find out.” She tipped the cup and took a slow swallow. Lowering the cup, she stared at him as if in a trance. “Quinn.”

  “Yes, ma’am?” His mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled.

  Kendra spoke slowly, like a woman possessed. “Take. Me. Darling. I. Am. Yours.”

  His deep laughter spilled out. Abigail and Ingrid exchanged a grin, but Kendra maintained a straight face for several seconds. Then she started laughing so hard she had to put her drink down or risk dumping it.

  Quinn seemed to enjoy the joke the most, though. Pulling a bandana out of his back pocket, he wiped his streaming eyes. Just when he seemed to have recovered himself, he’d look at Kendra and start laughing again.

  Eventually he caught his breath. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Kendra.” She held out her hand. “Kendra McGavin. I own Wild Creek Ranch.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Kendra. I can’t remember the last time I’ve—”

  “Dad!” Roxanne burst through the front door and threw herself into his arms. “Why didn’t you say you were coming?”

  He hugged her tight. “Wanted to surprise you, honeybun. Thought you were around most of the time.”

  “Usually I am. Wouldn’t you know I’d decide to go to Bozeman today. How long have you been here?”

  “Long enough to meet your friends and Kendra.”

  “Well, there you go. That’s an impressive list for someone who just blew into town. I saw your truck parked outside and couldn’t believe it. How long can you stay?”

  “A few hours. Then I’ll head back.”

  “Sure is a lot of driving, Dad. You can have my bed and I’ll sleep o
n the couch tonight.”

  He shook his head. “Appreciate the offer, honeybun, but that’s exactly what I don’t want, to put you out. I just figured since I’ve never been here, I ought to see the place. I like it so far.”

  “You might want to take him to the GG for lunch,” Kendra said. “Best burgers in town.”

  He turned to her. “What’s the GG?”

  “The Guzzling Grizzly. My son co-owns it.”

  He blinked. “Stepson?”

  “No, my biological son.”

  “Sorry, ma’am, but you don’t look old enough to—”

  “I had him when I was very young. All of them, in fact.”

  “Kendra has five boys, Dad, all grown.”

  His gaze swung back to her. “I’ll be damned.” He cleared his throat. “Excuse my language, but I figured you for around thirty-five.”

  “Keep that up and I might fall in love with you for real. I’m forty-five.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at Roxanne. “If your dad’s on a tight schedule, you’d better skedaddle so you can beat the noon rush.”

  “Good advice. Come on, Dad. Let’s grab lunch.”

  “Sounds good.” He looked at Abigail. “I’ll stop here before I leave so I can say a proper goodbye. And if you’d put aside a cherry pie for me, I’d be much obliged.”

  “Well, I—”

  “It’ll knock your socks off.” Kendra looked at Abigail and gave her a little head shake. “You’ll want to make the drive again next week just to get another one.”

  “I just might, at that.” He settled his hat on his head. “Abigail and Ingrid, I’ll see you later. Kendra, it was nice meeting you.”

  “Same here, Quinn.” She waited until they were out the door. “Where does he live?”

  “Near Spokane, I think,” Abigail said. “Does that sound right, Ingrid?”

  “That’s what I remember Rox saying. He has a ranch there.”

  Kendra sighed. “Yeah, well, that’s probably for the best. Besides, he didn’t come in on a motorcycle and he doesn’t have a mustache.”

  “A motorcycle and a mustache?” Abigail frowned at Ingrid. “Is this making sense to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Here’s the scoop,” Kendra said. “Trevor and I were talking one night and he came up with this image of a guy he thought would be perfect for me.”

  “Have you ever dated?” Abigail cringed. “Sorry, that might be too personal.”

  “It’s not too personal, and no, I haven’t. Ian died when the boys were little and I just…never considered it. But evidently my boys are worried that I’ll be lonely now that they’re all out of the house. I’m not lonely, but it’s hard to convince them.”

  Ingrid leaned against the counter. “That doesn’t explain the motorcycle and the mustache.”

  “Sounds like a short that comes before the main feature.” Kendra smiled. “The motorcycle was Trevor’s idea. He said my perfect guy would ride into town on one, but he’d still be a cowboy. These days he wouldn’t come galloping into town on his horse unless he’s some nut job.”

  Abigail laughed. “Just what you don’t want, some yahoo who thinks he’s a rhinestone cowboy. A motorcycle works, though. And he had a mustache?”

  “Right.” She glanced at Ingrid. “What are you doing?”

  “Texting Rox.” She studied her screen. “Ha! Her dad has a motorcycle.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Abigail pressed her hand to her chest. “That’s freaky.”

  “But no mustache,” Kendra said.

  Ingrid tucked her phone away. “No problem. He could grow one.”

  “Yes, but he would still live in Washington.” She drained her coffee. “That was delicious. Let me take my brownies and go home.”

  Abigail boxed the brownies and rang up the sale before giving Kendra a hug goodbye. Ingrid came over to hug her, too. Ever since the launch of the specialty coffee, Kendra and the other Whine and Cheese ladies were VIP customers at Pie in the Sky.

  “She really liked him,” Ingrid said as Kendra climbed in the ranch van. “She gave up her cherry pie for him.”

  “He really liked her, too. Did you see how he kept laughing? He was intrigued. Very intrigued.”

  “But he lives in Washington.”

  Abigail looked at her. “Your boyfriend lives in Boston.”

  “And I’m here to tell you it’s no fun. The best is to be in the same town. No, that’s not right. The best is to be under the same roof.”

  “I know.” Being under the same roof with Luke had been incredible. But she had no idea how they’d manage that feat going forward.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Luke disconnected the call and his chest tightened when he looked at Delilah. This really, really, sucked.

  He cleared his throat. “Somebody brought another flyer to the shelter, pup. This time the number’s clearly visible.”

  She picked up on his tone immediately. Instead of smiling and wagging her tail, she came over, laid her head on his knee and gazed up at him with a worried expression. Like she could read his mind.

  “I have to call.” He ruffled her ears. “Maybe they had a legitimate reason for not following up. I need to give them a chance to explain. And if the reason’s good enough…” He chose not to finish the sentence.

  And today had been such a good one, too. He’d met with a new client this morning and he’d spent the afternoon in his office pulling together a marketing plan for his mom’s barn venue.

  In about fifteen minutes he’d leave for Pie in the Sky. He’d estimated that he and Abby would need a week to sort and record everything in the box, but it was only Wednesday and they were almost done.

  He might have to slow down. He loved the dynamic and wasn’t eager to change it. The routine allowed them to get to know each other, in bed and out.

  Everything had been going great. Now this. He set his phone down because holding it was a reminder of what he had to do. Abby wouldn’t like this any better than he did. She’d been so convinced no one would claim Delilah. Or whatever the dog’s real name was.

  “You know what, pup? Let’s make the call from Abby’s apartment. That way I can put the phone on speaker and she can hear what the person has to say. I’ll feel better if she’s there to help me evaluate whether they should get you back. Because they won’t if they’re the least bit dicey.”

  She wagged her tail in slow motion, as if she understood something critical was on the line.

  “Okay. We have a game plan.” Likely the people weren’t dicey. As Kendra had said, Delilah wouldn’t be such a good dog if she’d come from a bad home. But he’d cling to the possibility, anyway, because he couldn’t imagine this house without Delilah in it.

  He arrived at the bakery as Abby and Ingrid were tidying up in preparation for closing. He unsnapped the leash so they could each give his dog a biscuit. No, not his dog. Calling her that was a bad habit that had crept up on him.

  Both women fussed over Delilah. It was hard to watch when it could be the end of such rituals.

  Abby glanced at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure.” He snapped out of his funk.

  “Is there a problem with a client?”

  “No, ma’am.” He smiled. “Maybe I just need a biscuit.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” She pulled an oatmeal raisin cookie out of the case and brought it to him. “Do you know any tricks?”

  “Tons. Remind me and I’ll show you some later.”

  “Okay, you two lovebirds,” Ingrid called over. “Have pity on the lonely and frustrated among you.”

  “Sorry, Ingrid,” he called back. “When’s that guy of yours coming out?”

  “Spring.”

  Spring. He’d looked forward to warm weather and long rides through meadows of wildflowers. Wouldn’t be as much fun, now. Spot On would miss Delilah, too. They’d become buddies.

  “You’re doing it again.”
<
br />   “What?”

  “The sad eyes.”

  “You’d be sad, too, if someone promised you a cookie and didn’t deliver.”

  “Here’s your cookie,” she said gently.

  “Thanks.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.”

  “Okay.” She blew him a kiss and went back to cleaning out the bakery case.

  “Is the trash ready to go out?”

  “Sure is.”

  “All righty, Delilah! Get the trash, girl!”

  She pranced over and picked up one bulging bag gently in her teeth. He grabbed the other. Clipping the leash to her collar, he led her out the door and around to the bin in the alley.

  She’d learned the trick in about thirty minutes of practice on Monday afternoon. Remarkable dog. If the people who’d put out the flyer didn’t understand how special she was, then they weren’t getting her. But they probably did know.

  By the time he came back, Ingrid was on her way out the door and Abby was right behind her.

  She locked up quickly. “That does it for today.” She stroked Delilah’s head. “Thanks for taking out the trash, you two. Great teamwork.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ingrid held the outside door for them and they all trooped upstairs.

  “I’ll be in Roxanne’s room if you need me for anything,” Ingrid said over her shoulder.

  “Are you going to tell her about the cherry pie?”

  “Sure, why not? She’ll get a kick out of knowing her dad was such a hit.”

  “Her dad was here?” News to him.

  “Just for a few hours,” Abby said. “Drove from Spokane.”

  “Hefty drive to do twice in one day.”

  “He seemed fine with it.” She unzipped her parka as she topped the stairs and walked the short distance to her place.

  Normally he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. But today he had bad news or what could be bad news. For them, at least. Maybe not for Delilah.

  She turned as he closed the door behind him and unclipped Delilah’s leash. “What is it?”

  “I have the number for the people who put out the flyer.”

  “Oh, Luke.” Her shoulders sagged. “I take it you haven’t called.”

  “I decided to wait so you could hear the call and help me judge whether they measure up.”