Cowboy Strong (Cowboy Up Book 5)

by Allison Merritt

  Between the booze, the blazing fire and snuggling close to Waylon, Taylor was more than warm. But she wasn’t crazy about being stuck on the mountain overnight. “Can we get down okay?”

  “The horses are surefooted. We’ll be fine,” Waylon assured her.

  They kicked dirt over the fire and mounted.

  “Stay right behind me,” Waylon ordered as he nudged his horse into a trot. Moving at a quick clip, he wound through the trees, easily dodging low-hanging branches. The breeze had turned into howling wind blowing snow into their faces.

  All her warmth vanished, leaving Taylor a chunk of shivering flesh. She’d worn a light jacket, no gloves and jeans that had turned into icy denim that burned her skin like dry ice. She ducked her chin into her jacket and gripped her saddlehorn with both hands.

  The sorrel gelding stayed right behind the gray, stepping almost in the same place the leader had. Marin’s horse kept his nose on Taylor’s gelding’s tail, and she assumed Wade had the rear.

  Between the cold, the sorrel’s bone-jarring trot and not being able to see a foot ahead of her, Taylor was more miserable than she’d ever been in her life. She wasn’t a cowgirl. This wasn’t remotely fun, or something she’d ever care to repeat. If she lived.

  Tears leaked from her eyes and she sniffled.

  Waylon needed someone like Logan—suited for his way of life. If Taylor survived this nightmarish ride, she’d tell him so. Before he made the biggest mistake of his life and moved to Colorado. He needed to stay in Montana, reconcile with Logan, or find a girl like her, and go on with his cowboy life.

  ~*~

  Although they’d made love, Waylon could feel a gap between him and Taylor. She lay with her head on his chest, eyes closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbled.

  “Tell me,” he insisted with a heavy heart.

  She sighed heavily and rolled to her back. “I think you should go back to Montana tomorrow.”

  His heart sank toward his boots if he’d been wearing any. “Why?”

  “I’m not the right girl for you,” she said. “And you know it.”

  He twisted to his side, so he faced her. “I don’t know it. What I do know is we had a rough ride today. You’re giving up on what we have because of one little storm?”

  She refused to look at him. “It wasn’t the storm, Waylon. It’s everything. I’m not cut out to rough it. I like my comfort. Your lifestyle isn’t for me.” A tear trickled down the side of her face and he wiped it away.

  “Hey, look at me.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t mean that. I know today was a bit rough, but it’s over now.”

  Her blue eyes, although teary, were steady. “What today showed me is we have less than nothing in common. We’re fire and ice. Or oil and water. Or whatever stupid cliché works. Either way, we’re not suited for the long haul.”

  Anguish filled him, then anger. “You give up that easy? No wonder modeling was too much for you if you quit over one short squall.”

  She flinched. “Leave before you say something you can’t take back. We had fun. It’s over now. Go find Logan and make up with her before it’s too late, like your family wants.”

  “You got it.” He threw the covers off them and stood. While he jerked on his clothes he spoke bitter words. “Thanks for the fuck.” He got small satisfaction when she flinched.

  Through tears he’d never admit to, Waylon stumbled to his truck and climbed behind the wheel. When he turned on the engine, a sad country song poured from the radio. He cranked it up while he fought his emotions.

  Anger and despair warred within him. He hit the steering wheel with his fist. “Dammit all to hell.”

  He pinched his nose until the tears passed. Barely able to see, he put his truck in gear and inched down the driveway. Once on the highway, he stomped on the gas pedal, uncaring if he was stopped by a cop.

  Automatically, he turned toward Montana.

  As he drove, his mind roamed over the day’s events. He knew the ride in the snow had been a lot for the women, but Marin seemed to be thrilled by it, while Taylor appeared to be in utter misery. He’d seen much worse. To him, today’s snow had been a little spit. Nothing to get excited about.

  Taylor was right about one thing, though. Logan would’ve taken it in stride, not acted like a spoiled brat over a cold ride. She understood his life. Maybe they ought to start over. They were comfortable together, understood cowboyin’ and the trials that came with it.

  Trouble was, he didn’t love her. He was in love with the girl who had just thrown him out on his ass.

  Why had he gone and fallen for a girl so far out of his league? Shit, he’d been ready to sell everything he owned, clean out his savings and move away from his family for her. In his fantasy, he’d seen them carving out a life together here in Lonesome Valley. Building a legacy like his grandparents and parents had done. Raising a family.

  He snorted.

  Taylor had been a good time. The memories he’d made with her would be something to take out down the road and relive on the long, lonely nights ahead. But, to try to build a life with her was not in the cards.

  In the morning, he’d call Miller and tell her the sale was off. His gut clenched at the prospect. He loved the ranch, had been thrilled with all his ideas to improve it. In every single scenario the tall blonde had been by his side.

  “Idiot,” he said aloud.

  Envy gripped him as he passed Will and Lily’s place. They were miles apart in almost every way and yet had somehow found a way to be together. Because they loved each other. The cold truth hit Waylon. He had fallen for Taylor. But he hadn’t been more than a good time for her. He’d made a classic mistake—thought sex meant love.

  He almost laughed out loud.

  He’d loved Logan most of his life. She’d loved him, too, she claimed, just not the same way he loved her. Now Taylor. He’d gone and fallen hard and she had no feelings whatsoever for him.

  As he roared by Marin’s house the fun they’d had picking apples shot through his head. Such a stupid activity for a cowboy, but he’d do it again tomorrow if it meant he could spend another day with Taylor.

  He probably ought to call Wade and let him know he wasn’t going to buy the ranch. His stomach knotted. Wade would be all-too-happy to tell him I told you so. He’d put on his big brother attitude, all snotty and uppity. With a sneer, he’d tell Waylon that he’d warned him not to get involved. That he belonged with Logan.

  A bitter laugh gurgled out of Waylon. “Should’ve listened to big brother. Guess I better get this over with.” He picked up his phone and dialed. After a few moments, Wade picked up.

  “You know what time it is?”

  “Not offhand.” Waylon glanced at the neon numbers on his dashboard. “Shit, sorry.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Who says anything’s wrong?” He tried to laugh and failed.

  “Just a wild guess since it’s after one in the morning,” Wade groused. “Why aren’t you wrapped up in Taylor’s arms? Warming her up?”

  Waylon sucked in a deep breath. He let it out. “Just wanted to let you know I’m headed home. Things here aren’t going to work out.”

  “Where are you?” Wade’s voice sharpened. “Come over here and we’ll talk about it.”

  “I’m done talking. You were right, brother. Taylor’s not right for me. Maybe I can find a cowgirl back home.” He fought nausea rushing up his throat.

  “What happened?”

  “She found out cowboyin’ isn’t as glamourous as the movies make it look,” Waylon muttered. “I should’ve known better than to think a girl like her could hack my way of life.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Waylon held his phone away from his ear, shook it and put it back in place. “What?”

  “You knew from the jump Taylor wasn’t cut from the same kind of cloth Logan is. B
ut you were willing to give it a go with her anyway.” Wade paused. “If it had been just sex between you and her, you would’ve had your roll in the hay, then headed home and forgotten about her. Instead, you’ve turned your whole life inside out to be with this woman. You hit a little bump and fold? I thought you were a better man than that.”

  “I didn’t quit her,” Waylon said. “She gave up on me.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?” Challenge filled Wade’s voice. “Stand and fight for the woman you love, or turn tail and run?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Waylon stood alongside the chute as the first of his Angus heifers loaded into one of the big semi-trailers that would haul them to Colorado. He’d been jumping like a champion hurdler since he’d been home.

  Almost immediately upon his arrival they’d started fall roundup, which took two weeks of dawn-to-dark riding. While he’d been alone, he’d had plenty of time to think. Moving to Colorado was still what he wanted to do, and he’d purchased the Archer place. He told himself it was because the scorched land of Montana needed a break, although deep in his heart he knew it was partly for Taylor.

  She hadn’t called him. And he hadn’t tried to contact her.

  A movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him to a presence. He turned to see Logan standing near the bottom of the chute. She waved and he returned the gesture. He hopped off the ramp and moved toward her.

  Like always, she wore a baseball cap with her wheat-colored hair poking out the back, a Carhartt jacket and worn Wranglers. Her warm blue eyes, freckled nose and upturned mouth were as familiar to him as his own face. A pang of regret for the life they might have had filled him.

  He gave her a quick hug and she slipped in his arms, familiar as an old pair of boots. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see if the rumors were true.” She turned her gaze toward the semi, now half full of his cattle. “That you’re moving to Colorado.”

  “They are,” he confirmed.

  Her steady blue eyes found his. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “For a fresh start. Something and somewhere new.”

  “And someone?” Leave it to Logan to cut to the chase.

  “I thought so, but I was wrong.” He looked at the semi as one of the young cows scrambled inside the steel walls. To his relief the animal was okay, hadn’t gone down.

  “It isn’t like you to give up so easily,” she chided.

  His mouth filled with a bitter taste. “Maybe I’m tired of getting kicked in the nuts.”

  She leaned her butt against the ramp alongside the chute. “Would you have gotten married, had a few kids, then woken up one day and realized we were just…comfortable? Not in love, not out of it, but just making do?”

  “My folks have a marriage like that. Is that what you wanted for yourself? For me?” She looked at her dusty boots. “I loved you so long I didn’t know anything else.” She swallowed hard. “I still do. Always will.”

  “But not enough,” he said.

  She turned to look at him. “No. Not enough.”

  Her similar words when she broke up with him had hurt like hell. Now, they stung, but didn’t cut. “You told me this already,” he said. “Why do you feel the need to do it again? Did you come over here to give me a final kick in the ass as I go out the door?”

  The corner of her full lips curled up. “A kick in the ass, yes. But not for the reason you think.”

  “Then why?”

  “Wade told me you met someone in Colorado.” She paused at his groan. “And that she’s special.”

  “Did he also tell you she broke it off?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the ramp, alongside her.

  She stared at the Bridger Mountains. “He did.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said.

  “I’m seeing someone.”

  He could feel her gaze on the side of his face. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Then he remembered Taylor and how fast he’d fallen for her. He forced a smile when he turned her direction. “Good for you. I wish you happiness.”

  “I want you to be happy, too, Way. You’re too good of a man to not be.” Her hand slipped around his elbow. “So, you have to fight for her.”

  The same thing Wade had said. “My brother tell you to give me this spiel?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “I came up with it all on my own.”

  “Would it have mattered if I came after you?” The muscle in his cheek worked.

  “No, because of everything I’ve gone over.” Her hold tightened. “But from what Wade said this girl loves you.”

  “Maybe, but she’s not suited for our kind of life. She’s city.” Taylor’s parting words played in his head. “One ride in cold weather and she sent me packing.”

  “Well, you could’ve started out with something a little easier, and built up to the hard stuff,” Logan said.

  Waylon didn’t tell her they’d started with the hard stuff—his, anyway. “What do you know about building up? You were born tough.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to be treated like a lady now and then.” Although her words weren’t meant to sting, he flinched. Had he ever babied her, or made things a little easier for her? He couldn’t recall a time when she hadn’t carried as much, or more, weight than any man he knew, including himself.

  “I need a woman to stand beside me,” he said. “Not be one I have to carry all the time.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, but maybe you could have eased her into it, instead of jumping in with both boots first.” She chuckled. “You’re used to me, Way. And like you said I was born to this life.” She waved her free hand. “Not everyone is, you know. Give her another chance. You might be surprised how tough she actually is. Most women are.”

  “She’s the one who has to give me another go,” he said.

  “Then ask her.”

  Logan made it sound so simple. Like all he had to do was show up, make nice, and everything would be okay. Would it? Both Wade and Logan said he gave up too easily. Although Wade hadn’t preached any more when he and Marin arrived in Montana, disappointment showed in his eyes when he found Waylon here and alone.

  I’ve been too busy.

  That wasn’t it.

  When Logan had left him, it hurt. But when Taylor said they were over, it ripped his guts out. He’d never felt so bad in his life. In the month since he’d seen her, it had only gotten worse. To have her stomp on his bruised, bleeding heart was more than he wanted to endure.

  They said cowboys don’t cry.

  That was a lie. He’d cried plenty—on the inside.

  “What do you have to lose?” Logan pressed. “Pride?”

  “Yeah.”

  She let go of his elbow and nudged him. “What’s worse? Loss of pride, or being apart from the girl you love?”

  Between her and Taylor, his pride, or what was left of it, was in the toilet. Taking another stomping wasn’t too appealing. But neither was being alone. He sighed. “Okay, point taken. You done lecturing me now?”

  She grinned the familiar way she’d done all her life. The smile he missed and never wanted to lose. “For today.”

  “So, who’s this guy? Do I need to check him out? Make sure he’s good enough for you?” His gut clenched at the thought of her with someone else.

  “I’m keeping his name to myself for now. You’ll find out soon enough. Right now, I’m holding my cards close.” She leapt to her feet. “We going to stand around jawin’ all day, or are we going to load these cows?”

  A little miffed at her secrecy after her lecture on his love life, he also stood. “Load ’em. I have a girl to see in Colorado.”

  ~*~

  Taylor paused in editing Will and Lily’s wedding pictures and glanced at the SD card she’d filled with shots of Waylon. She reached for it, then stopped. Looking at those pictures would only depress her.

  She’d been miserable since she sent him away. N
o more than she kicked him to the curb, did she regret her rash actions. He’d filled her life in a way no one ever had, or ever would again. He’d seen past her face, into her soul.

  A million times, she’d reached for the phone to call him. But the fear of him hanging up on her stilled her fingers every time. She drove by the Archer Ranch every few days, but no one seemed to be moving in. She couldn’t see the house from the highway and the driveway was blocked by a locked gate. When the for-sale sign came down, she despaired. Waylon had lost his dream place.

  The only way to get over him was to force him out of her head. With a sigh, she turned back to her screen. She couldn’t even escape him there. He was in every other picture. Her camera hadn’t deceived her that night. He was as gorgeous in person as he seemed through her lens. Maybe more so.

  She had really screwed up the night of the stormy ride. Unsure why she’d reacted so badly, she didn’t know what had made her lash out. Fear of failure, maybe. All her life things had come easily. To have something difficult in her path threw her. To explain that made her sound shallow and stupid.

  She turned her attention back to the wedding picutes. Just a few more pictures, and she’d be done. She could deliver the USB drive to Lily, then she’d put Waylon out of her mind for good. She wouldn’t ask about him, or even say his name. But, if Lily happened to mention him, she wouldn’t stop her.

  The doorbell rang. She went to see who it was with a pounding heart. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and although her friends occasionally dropped by, most knew she’d planned to work today.

  She pushed back the lace curtains and peered out. Her already racing heart threatened to jump out of her chest. Waylon stood there, hat in one hand, a bouquet of red roses in the other. She opened the door and gawked, speechless. It didn’t look like he’d shaved in a week and his eyes were bloodshot.

  He looked like heaven.

  They stared at each other.

  Suddenly, she realized she wore a tight cami top with silk pajama pants. Her hair was in a messy bun and she wore no makeup. She had to look like hell. She didn’t care.