Cowboy Flirtation

by Em Petrova

  After spending two days together in that venue, he’d had to move on. But that had only been the beginning of their relationship. Phone calls had turned into visits and weekends together. The night she’d agreed to be his wife had been the happiest of his life.

  But in the end, she’d shown her true colors. In sickness and health. Pfft.

  She hadn’t stuck with him through his injury and recovery. As far as he knew, she was off chasing another flankman who’d taken his job when the bastards wouldn’t return him to his duties following his recovery.

  He pushed out an involuntary groan and stood. The pain rocketing up his spine made him sway for a second, but he steeled his resolve and started walking toward the garbage can.

  If his family didn’t need their help anymore today, he guessed it was time to roll out. He couldn’t sit around here feeling sorry for himself anymore, not when Hank’s kids came out of the house with red faces from crying and the world was full of sorrier people than he was.

  He had so much to be thankful for. After all, he’d walked when the doctors told him otherwise. Yeah, he’d gotten back on his feet—even if he’d lost his job and the girl.

  He found Justus talking to the youngest of their cousins, Beck and Kade. The three of them had always been tight, while he and Hank and Cash had spent a lot of time together. Another man with the telltale dark hair and blue eyes of all the Dalton men joined them.

  Ford thrust out his hand toward Case. “I haven’t seen you in far too long, man. How have you been?”

  Case grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving Ford feeling old and crochety. “Been great, other than this.” He waved his hand to indicate the ranch. “But we’ll be okay. Rebuild and recover.”

  Ford gave a nod. “You will. How’s Annabelle?”

  Case’s woman hadn’t only fallen for a country boy but the ranch as well. Paradise Valley had a magic about it that was undeniable.

  His smile widened at the mention of his love. “She’s very well. We couldn’t be happier.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “What about you? Any new women to report?” Case’s teasing tone stabbed Ford through the heart.

  He managed to draw breath and shake his head. “Holdin’ off for a while.”

  Case’s smile faded a bit. “When the time is right, it happens. Look at all the Daltons—it’s always been that way.”

  He wasn’t so convinced but mumbled a word of agreement. Then he stood with Justus, Beck and Kade shooting the shit for a while. Finally, Easton joined them and Ford said it was time to head for home.

  “Wait—you guys can’t leave yet. Just a minute.” Kade strode off toward the center of the yard. He bent his head toward his father’s, their hats nearly touching as they spoke. Then Uncle Ted came back with him.

  “Kade says you boys are heading out.”

  “That’s true, unless you need us more today.”

  “Won’t be needing you today, but if you can spare some time during the coming weeks to return and give us a hand, I’d surely appreciate it.”

  The letdown Ford had been feeling at having to return home after being in Paradise Valley burned in the pit of his stomach. But at his uncle’s words, his insides gave a little leap, not unlike those flames that had licked the land.

  “Easton and Justus have good jobs they have to get back to.”

  “But we can come back on weekends,” Easton put in, with Justus’s nod.

  Uncle Ted eyed Ford, waiting for him to speak his mind. The patience he read on the man’s face was so like his father’s—Ted’s brother—that Ford felt an overwhelming wave of affection. His throat closed off, and he cleared it.

  “My job isn’t so great,” he admitted. “I’d like to stay on here and help if you want me.”

  “Want you? Son, you’re always wanted on this ranch.” Uncle Ted clapped his back with all the strength of a much younger man. “That goes for you two as well.” He included all his nephews.

  Ford’s shoulders slumped a little—not from exhaustion but from relief. Somehow, going home felt like the worst sort of failure. Living in his parents’ house again and working a crap job for crappier pay wasn’t what he wanted at all.

  Or needed.

  He needed a new challenge in his life, and this felt like an opportunity, a turning point.

  Drawing a deep breath, he nodded. “I’d like that, Uncle Ted. I’ll just run these guys on home and pack.”

  “Bring lots of work gloves. We’ll be tearing off the back of Hank’s house and rebuilding first thing.”

  Rebuilding Paradise Valley was just the challenge Ford needed right now. And maybe, if he was lucky, he’d be able to find something left inside himself to rebuild in the process.

  Chapter Two

  Susannah was the horse whisperer—but too bad her mare was hard of hearing.

  The stubborn old gal would never be right for her plans, and she knew it. People who knew horses said that anything smaller than fourteen hands had the attitude of the devil, and she’d seen it for herself. Except Susannah had never had an untrained pony as ornery as this mare.

  She stretched out her hand to show Wanna-Bea her treat—half an apple. Wanna-Bea tossed her head, unwilling to come close enough even to get the food she loved.

  Susannah grunted. “You’re even more stubborn than yesterday. Maybe it’s menopause. Do horses have that?”

  Wanna-Bea’s only response was to flick her tail and walk off in the opposite direction.

  Susannah lifted the apple to her own lips and bit off a chunk. Not even the crunch of a someone else eating her delicious treat would make her horse cooperate. And that left her short on horses.

  She’d gone over her new business model so many times that she couldn’t see any way out. If she was going to kick off this operation of helping autistic children through horse therapy, she needed good-natured, biddable horses. She wanted a good selection to continue training that could also be swapped out if they weren’t cooperating that day.

  Wanna-Bea’s attitude wasn’t improving anytime soon, and for some reason her daddy’s ranch had a whole herd of stubborn working horses, which left Susannah with a dilemma.

  Drifting to the fence, she took another bite of apple and chewed. The fields of the Ryan Ranch sprawled in the late morning sun, and in the distance, cattle grazed. Her daddy had agreed to her plan to start this therapy program, but in true Ryan style, he’d allowed her to take the reins to do the work for herself.

  Getting her father’s help in finding the right mix of horses to make this business a success would be the easy way out… and Susannah was a Ryan. Which left her racking her brain for ways to beg, borrow or steal what she needed.

  Since jumping the neighbor’s fence and making away with their horses wasn’t an option, and she’d never begged for anything since she was ten years old when Wanna-Bea had been on the auction block, that left her with one option.

  “To borrow,” she whispered.

  She wanted her clients to have the best experience, and for that she needed the best horses.

  And the best horses belonged to the Daltons.

  For a while, she’d been thinking about heading to Paradise Valley to speak with the family. But then the fire had broken out. She hadn’t seen with her own eyes what destruction those flames had wrought, but she’d heard from neighbors and her daddy himself. They’d lost outbuildings, stock and even one family member had lost his house, or part of it.

  Weeks had passed since the fire—were they recovered enough to be open to her request? They had to be stressed, and there must be something she could offer as help in trade.

  If she was going to accommodate the clients coming next week, she didn’t have much choice. It was sell her truck to buy a horse for her program or bite the strap and ask the Daltons to supply horses.

  Ten minutes later, she was rolling up the long gravel drive to the ranch. The big house with the inviting front porch spoke of lazy summer days an
d watching fireflies at night. Farther out, a few of the Dalton boys’ homes dotted the land, each as unique as the owners.

  Butterflies hatched in Susannah’s stomach, and she twisted a lock of her long blonde hair as she pulled into the parking area. Of course, she’d seen the Daltons at church and community functions. She was used to making small-talk, but this was much more.

  As she walked up to the house, the taller grasses scuffed her boots and an old dog on the front porch lifted its head and gave a low woof.

  “Hey, boy.”

  He thumped his tail.

  “How are you today? Are your owners inside?”

  She let the dog sniff her fingers before giving his ears a rub. In seconds, he was won over and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly for a longer scratch session.

  Chuckling, she gave in. She always had a soft heart for animals, and she had time to spare. Besides, petting the dog was giving her precious seconds she needed to gather her thoughts about what to say.

  I’m starting a horse therapy program, but I don’t have any horses. Can I use some of yours?

  Would you like to invest in my new program for autistic kids? You lend the horses and I give you…

  What? She hadn’t thought far enough ahead, obviously. If she was asking for such a high commodity as their horses, they’d expect something in trade.

  Part of the income she made? Or a ‘rental’ fee?

  She’d wing it.

  She stood and brushed the stray dog hairs off her palms on the butt of her denim shorts, went to the front door and knocked. And knocked again.

  After a few more raps on the wooden door, she realized nobody was home. Now that she thought about it, the times she’d been here, the screen door had been the only thing standing between the inhabitants and the guests.

  Sighing, she turned to face the yard again. The dog gave a woof as she walked down the front steps to her truck. She’d head down some of the ranch roads and see if she ran across any of the family.

  Susannah climbed into her truck and rolled across the gravel, headed to the Y in the lane.

  The next stretch had fence bracketing either side, running for what seemed like miles. Paradise Valley was huge, and it took each and every Dalton on it to make the operation a success. Her family’s ranch wasn’t as big or notorious, but they did well enough and she was proud.

  As she crested a small rise, she spotted some of the devastation. Sucking in on a gulp, she braked, looking over blackened ground. The big barn was caved in, reduced to ash, and the charred tractor rising from the foundation of an outbuilding made her heart hurt.

  This was every rancher’s nightmare. Every homeowner, for that matter.

  She finally realized what she could offer the Daltons for taking over some of their stock—good, green pasture. Right now, that looked to be in high demand.

  She let off the brake and the truck moved on. The fence here was also broken, leaving a large gap any cattle could cross, but it looked as if the Daltons had moved their herd.

  When she saw a cowboy hat pop up, her stomach gave a little lurch. At last, she’d found a Dalton.

  She pulled up to within a few feet of the man, who looked up at her. When he saw the strange truck, the uptick of his dark brows was the only register of surprise on his face.

  She cut the engine and got out. He looked her over and then returned to his work fixing the fence.

  Stomach dropping further, she slowly approached him. He seemed to be in the process of tearing down the fence. As she watched, he dug in with his heels, his big body leaning to one side as he put his muscle behind ripping a burned post from the ground.

  “Hi.” Her voice didn’t sound wobbly, at least. That was just her insides. “Can I lend you a hand?”

  “Nah, I got it.” And he did. He freed the post with a mighty wrench of strength and tossed it behind him, in a trail of other burned posts.

  “Um…” What to say to a man she’d never seen in her life? He wasn’t any of the Daltons she knew, yet he was very much from that gene pool. With dark hair and blue eyes, a strong jaw and a physique any girl in Texas would throw herself at—

  “You a friend of Witt’s wife?”

  She floundered. “Shelby?”

  “That’s her name last I heard.” He didn’t even smile. All the Daltons smiled—maybe she’d been wrong about her assumption.

  “Uh, yeah, I know Shelby. I see her down in the candy shoppe now and then when I can’t resist a chocolate milkshake.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile. Not a hint of amusement around those hard lips or steely eyes.

  “I’m not here for Shelby. I’m here to speak with one of the Dalton men.”

  He stared at her, waiting for more.

  Unnerved, she pushed on. “I’m Susannah Ryan. I live a few ranches over.”

  He continued to stand there, his jeans dirty with soot and earth and his T-shirt sweat-stained and smeared with muck. Yet he still looked damn fine.

  Her stomach gave another flutter, and she went on, “I’m here to ask for some help. Well, a co-op really. Call it a business transaction.” Now she was rambling. What was it about this man that was making her even more tongue-tied? It surely wasn’t his devastating smile.

  When she got no response from the mystery man—or Dalton—she cocked her head and settled a hand on her hip. “Who are you, anyway?”

  His gaze traveled over her face and hair, not lingering the way many guys did when they looked at her. “Name’s Ford.”

  “As in the truck.”

  “Yeah. And don’t even say everybody in these parts prefers a Chevy, because I’m not about to change my name to suit ya.” He walked to the next post—no, he sauntered, giving her a fine view of his broad back and a backside tight enough to bounce quarters off.

  She hurried forward, keeping pace with him though she was much shorter. “I’m not asking you to change your name. I just wanted to know who you are because maybe you can help me with what I need.”

  That drew him to a halt, and he turned to fix her in his heavy, blue stare. “Depends on what you need.”

  “I need horses.”

  God, this man could win a contest for least expression shown on a face. He definitely had the art of stoicism down pat. Pain or pleasure could be happening inside that tough cowboy body right now and she’d never know it.

  “If you live on a ranch, don’t you have your own horses?” His voice was deep and gritty, and it ripped through her senses like… Well, like a wildfire through a dry prairie.

  “Of course we have horses, but— How can you be a Dalton, anyway?”

  “Whattaya mean?” Finally, one corner of his eye twitched, the only indication the man was made of flesh and blood and not carved from stone.

  She set both hands on her hips and squared up with him. “Daltons smile.”

  Something moved within the depths of his blue eyes, the only way she knew she’d roused him.

  He twisted away and latched onto the next scorched post like a wrestler taking down an opponent. “I can smile if I got somethin’ to smile about.”

  Okay, this man was like speaking to a tree. No, trees would be more sympathetic to her spiel she was prepared to give about autistic children and how they were a growing number of special needs people on the planet, in need of more ways to break out of their shells and learn to interact better.

  All this guy—Ford Dalton—was interested in was getting this post out of the ground.

  Maybe if she helped him…

  She stepped up to the post and threw her arms around it, just above his.

  He stopped. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes were close, and she could smell the masculine scent of clean sweat and soap. A rivulet of perspiration rolled out of his hat line, making its way toward the crease at the corner of his eye. Stubble dotted his jaw, and she thought just how much of a Dalton that made him. She’d only seen the Dalton men cleanshaven in church on a Sunday. The rest of the time,
their beards seemed to sprout in the Texas heat.

  “Isn’t that obvious? I’m helping you,” she said after gathering her wits.

  He released his hold on the post and stepped back. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “I’m made of tougher stuff than you think. Which is why I’m here, in fact.” Now she was irritated enough to blow right past her nervousness and get on with asking for what she needed to start her dream.

  She met his gaze. “Look, I’m starting a program for autistic children and teens. Adults too, if they’d like to work with me. They come to my ranch and I show them the horses and how to care for them. How to groom and love them. But I need good, calm stock for my program, which is why I’m here. I was thinking the Daltons might have some retired stock living out their lives of service who are well trained but not frisky. I can offer them an easy job, along with good pasture.” She looked around at the burned ground.

  He lifted his jaw as he contemplated her. “Sounds like a good program.”

  She lifted her own jaw. “It will be. I already have three clients lined up, and they’re coming soon. But the problem is the lack of horses.”

  “I can’t speak for the family, but if they agree to lend you some horses, I can help you out.”

  She blinked in shock. He was so stiff and unengaging, and now he was volunteering to help her?

  “Th-that would be great,” she stuttered.

  He gave a nod. “Good. Now step back and let me get on with the fence. It needs finished this week and I could do it a lot faster with the skid steer, but they’re using it on the back twenty where it’s more crucial.”

  She released the post, feeling silly for having given her speech while wrapped around it. When she looked down, her top and shorts were covered in a line of soot as well.

  “Okay, thank you for volunteering to help. And you’ll speak with the family?”

  He gave a nod and nothing more.

  As she walked back to her truck, she had no idea how to feel about such an encounter. The man was the total opposite of the family she knew. He was obviously here to help with the rebuilding after the tragedy, and he didn’t seem to be enjoying one minute of the work.