A Cowboy To Keep: A Contemporary Western Romance Collection

by Hebby Roman

  “Yeah, I know that story. But that’s you and Dad. You were meant to be together. This thing with Flynn is a different situation. Really, he’s not my type. Out of curiosity though, what turned things around?”

  “Rosa’s cinnamon rolls, of course.”

  Harper rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  “That and she shamed me for being so mean to Boone when he’d helped out all day cleaning out my stable—not that I asked him. She sent me over here with a batch of cinnamon rolls to thank him. And the rest is history. I still had to take some convincing, but that day we started...things going. Your father is very persistent and patient.”

  “He got you in the end, huh?”

  “He’s still working on it. I’m about to capitulate though.” They both laughed, but then Mom put her hand on Harper’s. “I believe you about Flynn, and I have to say I’m relieved.”

  “Why?”

  “You and Justin were together a long time. Give yourself time. Take a breather. I never told you this, but there was a man between Rory’s father and Boone. In the end, it only caused me more pain. In retrospect, I had to discover who I was alone before I could be ready for your father. Keep your chemistry in check is my advice. I wouldn’t want you to start something that would end in pain—for you or Flynn.”

  * * *

  The setting sun painted brushstrokes all shades of pink and orange across the horizon. Yellow mountains, now tinged burnt orange, stretched in the distance. Then acres of open land, studded with majestic saguaro cactus. And in the foreground, Flynn’s house—old metal roof, dulling. Closer still his motorcycle and pickup, meaning it was likely he was at home. What am I doing here chasing after that man?

  Harper sat at the wheel of her car, plastic container with cinnamon rolls pressed to her lap, while she tried to control her racing heart. Each deep, ragged breath bringing the scent of fresh baked rolls to her. She had taken time deciding what to wear. She wanted to look sexy but not like she’d made a deliberate effort. A simple sundress with a jean jacket and her cowboy boots felt just right, but now she was here, she had second thoughts about the whole mission.

  The decrepit barn at the back of the property looked sinister in this light. There was a metal shed across the yard from the house she hadn’t noticed on her previous visits, but now a soft glow spilled out across the ground from its open door. She stepped out of her car and closed the door with a soft thud. She smelled the unique scent of the desert now: the sage, the dry dirt, a faint whiff of musk from javelinas.

  As she headed in the direction of the house, Dog bounded out of the shed, barking. When he saw her, he wagged his tail and smiled at her. A figure emerged from the doorway behind the dog. Oh, good lord.... Flynn stood wiping his hands on a rag—without his shirt on. Harper got a good glimpse of his chiseled torso, stomach like a washboard, nice pecs with a patch of black hair fanning out between them, a trail leading her eye downward to his belt buckle. Then back up to the Celtic cross tattooed on one side of his chest. He froze when he spotted her.

  After a moment, he gathered himself and went back into the shed. He came out again with a faded denim shirt on. She walked toward him, stumbling on shaky legs, box of goodies held out like an offering.

  “Harper? What brings you here?” It was the first time he’d used her name. She liked the way it sounded rolling out of his mouth in that deep, rich voice.

  “I brought you something.” She held the box out to him.

  He tucked the rag into his back pocket, all the while looking at her like a snake was going to spring out of the box. He took it from her and opened the lid. “Rosa’s cinnamon rolls! Tell her I said thank you, though I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

  “It’s Rosa’s recipe, but I made the rolls. I tweaked the recipe a bit.”

  “Why?”

  “I like a tad more cinnamon and—”

  He raised an eyebrow. “No, I mean why did you bake them for me?”

  “To thank you. You’ve been helpful….” He stepped closer to her. She stared down at his boots. “...And it occurred to me I should give you something in return. Especially after I caused you so much trouble….” He took another step forward. She gazed up to find dark eyes boring into hers. “...With the dog and all.” She swallowed hard. “You’ve been very gracious about the whole thing, really, and I—”

  “Can we cut to the chase? I’m not one for wasting my time playing games. What do you really want from me?” He’d stepped closer to her. So close now she could feel the body heat rolling off him and smell his scent. Their boots stood toe to toe. His directness and aggressive manner threw her—made her feel she’d lost control.

  “I wanted to tell you I do remember you from before. I remember you from high school.”

  His chest expanded with an intake of breath, and he stepped away from her. “Not my finest hour. Which incident do you remember exactly? Or is it just a general impression?”

  The flash of memory that came back to her over lunch with Lizzie who recounted everything about the wild Flynn clan came back to her. “I remember a boy in English class so impassioned about The Great Gatsby, he started talking and couldn’t stop. The depth of your understanding. The words you used.”

  She remembered the dark haired, dangerous-looking boy who was more often absent from class than in it. He’d made her uneasy, so she avoided looking at him. When he did come to class, he sat in the back row and didn’t talk to anyone or contribute to the discussion. Until one day, he cleared his throat, and starting out shy at first, he expressed his thoughts after someone else said they didn’t know why they had to read that old book. The boy warmed up to the topic as he went. The rest of the class, including the teacher, captivated by the flow of his words, sat in stunned silence. He wasn’t in class the next day.

  She looked up at him now and watched his Adam’s apple bobbing. He had a startled look in his eyes. “I remember that day too. I embarrassed myself. I didn’t even want to take that AP class. Had no hope of going to college, but my advisor talked me into it. He said the class might excite me about school. I always felt like I didn’t belong there. Then I went and made a fool of myself. Everyone sat there staring at me like I had two heads—even you.” He spoke in a softer voice now, lost in memory.

  “Oh, no! I was awestruck. We all were. What you said was more engaging than anything the teacher ever said. If you’d talked more, that class would’ve been far more interesting.”

  He looked at the ground. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

  “It’s not meant as a kindness. I’m just stating the truth.”

  “I didn’t like to go to that class—or any classes to be honest, but I did do the reading.” He looked up at her with a twinkle in his dark eyes. “So, you think you’ve improved on Rosa’s recipe?”

  “Don’t tell her, but I think I’ve perfected the recipe. Go ahead and try one.”

  He held up one grimy hand. “My hands are filthy. I’ve been working on that backdoor.”

  “How’s it turning out? I hope Dog didn’t ruin it.”

  “It’s a little distressed—which some people like. Not that noticeable.”

  She reached for the lid of the plastic container in his hand. “Here, I’ll give you a little taste so you can tell me what you think.”

  Before he could protest, she peeled off a section of roll and held it before his mouth. She watched his eyes grow dark as coal and held her breath. He parted his lips enough for her to push the morsel into his mouth. She felt his warm, soft lips on her fingers, startling against the sensation of his sharp stubble. She pushed the bite in further, aware of the moist heat in his mouth and the hardness of his teeth. He took the roll in his mouth, and she let her hand fall.

  As he chewed, his unblinking eyes never left hers. Then he swallowed and snapped his lids shut. “Oh, my lord. That’s amazing.” She smiled at him when he opened his eyes again. “Of course, it’s not fair to say anything without a taste comparison, and I a
m loyal to Rosa, but oh, my….”

  “Thank you. I have my secrets.”

  He smiled at her with that smile that lit up his whole face—directed at her this time. “Say, Harper Donovan, when’s the last time you watched the sunset from the back of a pickup truck?”

  “Speaking of high school….”

  Chapter Nine

  In a pickup truck—with Frank Flynn. What was she thinking? The suggestion had seemed innocent at the time, but when he threw a blanket and a small cooler with beers in the bed of the truck, it occurred to Harper she had gotten herself into a situation. She looked sideways at Flynn behind the wheel. He had a bemused expression on his face like he had similar reservations now they’d headed out. They’d only strung together a few sentences that could be construed as a conversation since driving away.

  After driving a short distance through open land and desert, he turned off on a narrow dirt road. A No Trespassing sign, shot full of holes and hung on a low wooden gate, blocked their progress. Flynn put the truck in park and jumped out of the cab. As Harper watched, he unlatched the gate. Then he turned and motioned to her to take his seat and drive through. Anxiety prickled her scalp but she did it anyway. Once she was through the gate, he closed it again and jumped in beside her, taking the wheel again.

  “I don’t think we should be doing this,” she said.

  He turned to her, mirth in his eyes. “Are you turning chicken on me? Don’t worry. I have permission.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Right here,” he stopped the truck, then backed up and turned around so they were facing the way they’d come. “Come on,” he said, jumping out again.

  She got out and walked around the other side of the truck to join him at the back. Flynn stood with his hands in his pockets, head fixed straight ahead with something like reverence on his face. Harper stopped to see what he saw. Flat land lay before them for miles. A small pond in the distance reflected the sun beginning to set through a gap in the mountains. Pretty, but she’d seen many scenes like it in Arizona, so she didn’t understand why this spot was different to any other.

  At last, he turned to her as if he’d just remembered he had company. “Nice spot, isn’t it?”

  “Beautiful,” she said, trying to match his enthusiasm.

  Flynn walked to the truck and dropped the gate. Harper studied the bed of the truck. Climbing in would be awkward, especially in a dress. She was working out this problem when she felt two hands on her waist. Flynn spun her around and lifted her off the ground with ease, depositing her so she sat in the bed, legs hanging down. He jumped up next to her.

  “Are you comfortable? Because there’s a blanket there if you want to sit on that.” He said, reaching for the cooler.

  She crossed her ankles and swung her feet. “I’m fine, thank you.” The blanket would afford her some comfort between her bottom and the liner of the bed, but she didn’t want to look like she wanted to get too comfortable.

  “Beer?”

  “Yes, please.” Well so far this is very polite. “Is this a place you come to often?”

  “Naw, not much anymore, but I used to end many an evening here—back in the day.” He twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to her. He opened a beer for himself and took a slug.

  “Oh, I see, this was your make out spot back in high school.” She regretted saying so the instant it was out of her mouth.

  He turned and smiled at her. “Something like that. On a good night, anyway.” He looked back over the land. “This was a good place to clear my head.”

  The expression on his face gave her a sudden intuition. “This spot has some meaning to you?”

  He looked back at her in appreciation. “Yes, it does.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Harper waited for him to expand on his comment, but he didn’t seem so inclined.

  He nudged her with his shoulder. “So what about you? Did you have a favorite make-out spot?”

  “I may have.”

  “I remember you back then. You were with that guy, Clay Fielding.”

  “Is that what this is all about? Did you bring me out here to relive old high school memories?” She bit her bottom lip, feeling disappointment. Was this going to be a night of nostalgia?

  He looked at her and gave her a half smile. “I don’t know what this is about, to be honest. I did admire you back then.”

  “But you don’t now.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that.”

  “But it’s true. You’ve been giving me the stink eye since I got here. What have I done to you? Did I refuse to dance with you at prom or something?”

  He threw back his head and gave a deep laugh. “No, nothing like that. You weren’t in my league.”

  He went silent then, looking up at the sky with his hands tucked under either side of his thighs. She wasn’t going to let it go. There was something at the bottom of his resistance toward her and she was going to get it out of him here and now.

  “So what is it? Get it off your chest.”

  “Okay, I guess I have been judgmental.”

  “About what? What do you know about my life that has you so set against me?”

  “You don’t pussyfoot around, do you Donovan?” He sighed and then gave a sheepish smile, avoiding her eye. “All right. I’ve been listening to your dad talk about you, and I decided you’re one of those high-maintenance gals.”

  Harper sputtered in outrage. “How can you say that? Based on what?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  “No, we should. You started a conversation. Out with it.” She was breathing hard now, trying to control her anger.

  He looked down at the bottle in his hand. “Well, I hear you walked away from the guy you were engaged to when your venture together didn’t pay off. You came running back home and moved back in with your parents.”

  “I got a job right away.” Shame washed over her, hearing this characterization of herself.

  He raised one finger, now warming to the topic. “Which your mom got for you. Then they give you a nice place to live, rent-free, and a car.”

  Harper felt the blood rush to her face. “Maybe we should go back now.”

  He put his hand on hers for a moment. “Don’t be that way. Look, it was wrong of me to judge. I get a chip on my shoulder sometimes. Can we start over? I welcome the opportunity to clear the air. I’d like to get to know you.”

  Despite everything he’d just said, Harper realized that was what she wanted too. She took a deep breath. “I didn’t break off my engagement to Justin. He broke things off with me. I didn’t tell my parents that.”

  He knitted his eyebrows. “Why? Your parents would have been there for you.”

  “I know. That’s part of it. I was in denial. If I told my parents he left me, I’d have to face it myself. I kept hoping he’d come to his senses. I don’t know what happened. I still don’t know. One day it was over as far as he was concerned. I made a fool of myself trying to win him back. He moved out. I kept it from my parents. I know it was foolish, but I did. I’m the baby of the family. The one everyone fussed over as if I were incapable of taking care of myself. I felt like I’d finally shown them I could. They were so proud of me. And then it all fell apart. When Mom started talking wedding dresses, I had to fess up.”

  “Except you didn’t really tell the truth. I still don’t understand why you didn’t just come clean.”

  “It’s complicated. I mean, in my head it is. Not just my relationship, but our cafe--my dream—failed. And I was left in an apartment I couldn’t afford. I tried. I really did but New York City is a tough place under those circumstances. I even went so far as to borrow money to keep things afloat. I don’t want my parents to know I didn’t only lose my money, I owe someone money. They’ll insist on taking that on as well. You see why I’m grateful to have a place to live rent free. It’s been a humbling experience to say the least, but it is my experience to sort out.”

  “I di
dn’t go to prom.”

  “What?” she asked thrown by the sudden change in direction.

  “I dropped out of school in senior year.”

  “I thought you got expelled or something.”

  He laughed. “That was my brother, Pat. He punched a teacher. He’s in law enforcement now in Flagstaff.” He turned and looked at her. “I got my GED. I even went to the community college for a couple of years.”

  “Why did you drop out of high school?”

  He shrugged. “My home life was pretty chaotic—not that that’s an excuse, but it didn’t help. Nobody reined us kids in. I partied a lot and got into trouble.”

  “A bad boy, huh?”

  He smiled to himself. “Your classic case.” He tapped her boot with his. “To be honest that was another reason I avoided you. I’ve cleaned up my act and put all that behind me. When I saw you...anyway, I thought you’d think the worst of me.”

  “I didn’t...I don’t.”

  They sat in silence. She looked down at his long, lean thighs encased in tight jeans and wished he’d put his arm around her, but he kept a respectful distance between them.

  “Look at that view,” he said, pointing to the orange and pink streaked sky. Then he turned and regarded her. “You asked what this spot meant to me. This land used to belong to my family. For generations we farmed and ranched this land from the time Arizona was only a territory.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, times were always tough, you know that. Grandpa struggled through but when the droughts came in the 90’s, we couldn’t manage anymore and lost everything. The house I live in is all that’s left of our holdings.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. I still help out here from time to time. That’s why I get to come out here. This ranch. It doesn’t belong to us anymore, but I still belong to it.”