To Tame A Cowgirl

by Roni Adams

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You do?”

  “Yep. You’re trying to get off the subject of you.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “By talking about my sex life or lack of, it completely turns the attention off the fact that you can’t get laid.”

  At that exact moment, the song ended leaving the entire bar to hear her comment loud and clear.

  Sara bit her bottom lip as the crowd whistled and cheered. Above her, Buck’s face turned so red it was almost purple. He dropped his hands and stepped away as she covered her mouth with her hand to keep the laughter from bubbling out.

  From the stage, Teddy Weston, Buck’s younger brother laughed into his microphone. “Well folks, on that fine note, I think the band and I will take a short break.”

  Buck glared at her once more before storming away. He grabbed his denim jacket off the back of the barstool and headed to the exit. The door flung open so hard it slammed into the wall and Sara cringed along with the others in the bar.

  Only Satan, her father’s bull, had a worse temper than Buck. She wasn’t a fool and wasn’t about to follow him outside and endure his wrath.

  ****

  With the truck window wide open, Buck pulled out of the honky tonk’s gravel parking lot. He let the cool night air wash over him in an attempt to clear his head. Of all the stupid conversations he’d ever had with Sara, this had to be the wackiest one yet. There she was, looking around the bar trying to find him a woman, never clueing in that the only one he wanted was already in his arms. His hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles ached. Did she really think he was getting hard because he was desperate? The only reason he didn’t want to dance with her was because of his growing desire...for her. It was becoming tougher and tougher to keep hidden.

  As the main road narrowed, he slowed down and rounded the curve leading to the main gate of the family ranch. The white arch of the Double B glowed in the dark like a welcome beacon.

  He absently punched in the code to make it swing open, all his thoughts focused on the conversation they’d just had. Muck up a friendship with sex? Whiskey and beer? Where did she come up with this stuff? He’d lost track of the number of times she’d chased her whiskey down with beer and they’d both paid for it later. He frowned. How did she know that sleeping with a friend gave you the same type of hangover? He knew damn well she wasn’t sleeping with anyone...was she?

  It wasn’t Cole, that he knew for sure. But if it wasn’t him, who could it be? He shook his head again, what was he thinking? There wasn’t anyone. Sara was just talking, shooting off her mouth like she knew it all, just like always. He could just picture her right now, sitting on his bar stool, laughing with his brother about what a hot head he was. They were probably discussing his ‘problem’ and how he needed to find himself someone to solve it. Hah! The only problem he had was five-foot-ten woman with waist-length brown hair and sparkling green eyes. What would she think if I told her that!

  He passed some outbuildings and swerved to avoid a pothole in the road, making a mental note to get someone out there to fix that in the morning.

  Buck shook his head. She was so stubborn and naive. That was her real problem. She was so naïve she had no clue how he felt about her or that he’d even be thinking about her as more than his buddy. Of course, if he had any guts, he’d just come out and tell her. He rubbed his jaw. Chicken. That’s what she’d call him if she knew how he was wrestling with this. But there was a lot at stake. She wasn’t some girl he met on a Friday night that if it didn’t work out they went their separate ways by Sunday. Sara was his best friend—not to mention business partners in a round about way. Their father’s were partners in the Double B since before they were born. When his own father passed away, Sara’s old man had run the place himself until Buck and his brothers were old enough to step up and take their places next to him at the head of one of the largest cattle operations in the country.

  The death of Beau Sampson a few months ago had rocked the families hard, and Sara in particular. She didn’t seem to be getting past his death. She acted like nothing had changed, that their roles were the same as when Beau called the shots.

  But, like it or not they weren’t.

  Overnight, they all had to grow up and take charge. The years of cowboying were over. The Double B’s future rested squarely with them. His oldest brother, Cord, was already concerned about heirs! Buck wasn’t quite as worried about the next generation, but it did give him something to think about. How long was he going to pretend to be looking for someone to date, have a relationship and maybe settle down with. The only one he wanted was already here—his biggest problem was figuring out how to tame the cowgirl without losing his best friend.

  Lately, being around her was getting harder and harder. Her casual touches, dancing with her, it was making him nuts. And, for once, she was so oblivious to what was on his mind.

  He drummed his fingers on the open window as he drove the familiar route. It never used to bother him that she went out with Cole. Hell, she’d been going out with their neighbor on and off since high school. He also knew the rancher had never gotten beyond a kiss or two. Sara had told him; she told him everything. That was how it was between them, no secrets—until now.

  Now the secret he kept was one he had no clue how to share with her. How did he tell his buddy he wanted to mix his whiskey with his beer and see what happened next? Especially when she’d come right out and told him tonight that she’d regret it. Not that she knew she was warning him off, but it sure made him step back a ways. He was crazy for thinking she’d ever think of him like that. He was her pal and that’s all she wanted. Sara wasn’t looking for a lover.

  Pulling into the horseshoe driveway that led to the two main houses, he spied lights on in the bunkhouses. Good. Poker was exactly what he needed tonight. Some beers and a few cigars and he’d forget all about dealing with his ‘problem’. With Sara still at the LoneStar, he could hang out with the ranch hands and not be distracted by her.

  His stomach rumbled. If luck was with him, they might even have a piece of pizza left.

  ****

  Sara dug into her front pocket for her keys. Shooting pool and darts for the past few hours had been okay, but the night had lost its fun without Buck. He left so mad and she felt guilty for embarrassing him. She smirked as she struggled to yank her truck door open. It was pretty funny that the Scoundrels stopped playing right then. She and Teddy laughed about it during his break, but Buck’s brother didn’t have any idea what was eating at him anymore than Sara did. They both agreed though, that some female companionship wouldn’t hurt. Trouble was, out here in Sweet Meadow, it wasn’t like there was a lot of single woman sitting around—especially not the type that could handle Buck. It wasn’t that he’d ever be mean to a woman, but he was like a big old grizzly bear. He had little to no patience with giggly females who batted their eyes and painted their nails. She’d watched the poor things over the years as they tried to catch his attention, but he was completely oblivious to feminine wiles.

  A half hour later, she pulled her truck behind her house. Across the yard, only the moon outlined the Weston house where Buck and his three brothers lived. She thought she could see Buck’s truck in its usual spot, but she wasn’t positive. The rest of the house was pitch dark. Teddy was still at the LoneStar and would be until well after closing while Cord was most likely in the main office, which was located in the house she grew up in. A quick glance over her shoulder at the dim light behind the den curtains assured her she was right. Sometimes she and Buck wondered what on earth he could find to work on so late into the night.

  Thinking of Buck made her wonder again if he’d come home and gone to bed, or was he somewhere else? She frowned. And where was Tyler? As the youngest Weston brother, he was the quietest of the pack, but was usually at the LoneStar for a couple of beers on a Saturday night. She hadn’t seen him there in over a week. Maybe he was asleep too.

  With a s
hrug, she headed up the back porch of her own house, pulled the screen door open and stepped into the small mudroom. She didn’t bother to take her boots off; her longtime housekeeper Flo would have gone home hours ago and wouldn’t be there to fuss at her. Sara hated being here alone, but would never admit it bothered her. The house felt like it had for months now, empty. Even though Cord was in the den, it wasn’t the same as when her father was alive.

  She glanced around the kitchen, knowing Flo would have left a snack somewhere. Ever since Sara’s mother had died, their housekeeper and cherished friend had completely taken over the running of both the main house and the Weston’s. This included leaving them each a bedtime snack—just because she was twenty-five, and her sisters didn’t even live at home anymore, Flo hadn’t stopped. A comforting ritual, Sara pulled the plate out of the cupboard and eagerly sliced a thick slab of the vanilla cake. The raspberry jelly-filled layers made her mouth water. There was simply nothing like homemade triple layer cake.

  Sara stood at the counter and shoveled the confection into her mouth as she gazed out the picture window directly behind the large wooden table. Her eyebrow shot up at the sight of a light burning in the main bunkhouse. Poker. Cool. It wasn’t even midnight yet, plenty of time to get in a few hands. She pulled the carton of milk out of the refrigerator, took a long swallow then set it back inside before heading out the door. It only took a few minutes to make her way across the yard towards the white building. She pushed open the door and was immediately assailed with the smell of beer and cigars. The conversation stopped.

  Tossing her hat onto a hook on the wall, she grinned. “Deal me in boys.”

  Chapter Two

  Hell!

  Buck’s gaze lifted from his cards. Why couldn’t she just go to bed? He loved her to pieces, but sometimes she never knew when to back off.

  Through the smoky haze, he watched Sara stroll through the main room of the bunkhouse to where he and several of the cowboys sat around the large, scarred, wooden table.

  Slim stood and pulled another chair over to the table for her, then handed her a beer. “Hey, boss lady. Ready to lose some cash?”

  Joe, Smitty, Cody, and Red all shifted around to make room for one more.

  Buck didn’t say anything while she settled herself next to him, of course, just to further his torment. He knew she looked over, but he pretended to study his cards, holding them close. He had a beautiful hand, a full house, queens over aces and he was ready to win his third pot in a row.

  “Whatcha got?” Red asked around his thick cigar.

  Buck grinned and laid his cards on the table. “Read ‘em and weep, boys. Three lovely ladies and a pair of aces.”

  Red nodded slowly. “That’s damn fine there, boss, damn fine. Unfortunately”—he smiled evilly and laid his cards out in front of him—”not quite as fine as my four twos.”

  Everyone laughed. Buck stuck his cigar back in his mouth and glared at Sara, knowing exactly who’d chased Lady Luck away.

  The deal passed to her and she set down her beer to pick up the cards. Shuffling them quickly, she grinned a cocky smile and winked.. “Blind and Straddle.”

  “Don’t you know any other games?” Slim complained, fingering his small pile of coins.

  “I know lots of other games, but this is my favorite.” Sara sent the cards sailing around to each of the men.

  Buck opened another beer without commenting. He hated this game; he should never have taught it to her.

  Red looked at his cards. “What’s the bet?”

  Sara tipped her head as if to think about it. Buck rolled his eyes impatiently as they waited.

  “Let’s not be too greedy, let’s start low. How about fifty cents?” She tossed two coins into the center of the table.

  “Fifty cents?” Buck snarled. “You can’t start at fifty cents. It’s at least two bucks or don’t bother.”

  Sara frowned, but tossed a bunch of quarters on top of the other two. “Okay, okay. Two bucks. But the straddle isn’t going any higher than five.”

  Buck grunted. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what she was up to. She always called this game to build the pot fast because she never brought much money. She probably didn’t even have ten bucks on her. He tried to read her face. Her gaze darted around the table at each of the men and he silently chuckled. She was so predictable, always gave herself away either by glancing at everyone else, by drinking her beer or shifting her hat. He’d tried and tried to teach her about hiding her reactions, but she’d never mastered the art of the poker face.

  The game played out and Sara lost.

  “That should teach you not to play those fancy games. Keep it simple,” Buck growled.

  Sara stuck her tongue out. “I see your mood hasn’t improved any in the past few hours.”

  Buck took a long swig of his beer. Her tongue was as sassy as ever.

  Across the table, Smitty, one of the quieter cowboys in the group, sifted the cards through his hands. “How about a little black jack?”

  A few hands later, Sara nudged Buck with her elbow. “I’m running out of money.”

  He shrugged. “You’re always out of money.”

  She matched his action with a shrug of her own. “Loan me some.”

  “I didn’t bring much with me,” he lied, hoping she’d go to bed if she was broke.

  “I’m out anyway, boss.” Slim stood up and shoved a small pile of quarters at Sara. “You can have the rest of mine.”

  “Thanks, I’ll catch you tomorrow.” She added the money to her tiny pile of nickels and dimes.

  “I think I’m going to call it a night too,” Red said and flipped her two more quarters.

  Buck grabbed the cards and shuffled them as a plan began to brew in the back of his mind. It would take a lot of luck and all his card skills to pull it off. He glanced at the small pile of coins in front of Sara and his gaze lifted to her face. She grinned around the fat, thick cigar firmly planted between her lips.

  His groin jerked in reaction. If she’d just smoke the damn thing like normal folk instead of chewing on it, he wouldn’t mind. But instead, she tormented the hell out of him by rolling the cigar back and forth between her lips.

  “You gonna deal those cards or marry ‘em?” she asked around the brown stub.

  “Five card draw, two buck ante, fifty cent raise,” he grumbled, tossing his quarters into the middle and dealing.

  “You have no imagination,” she complained.

  Buck glanced at the cigar tucked between her teeth—if only she knew just how vivid his imagination could be. His jeans tightened and he shifted in his chair. “Then don’t play.”

  With a heavy sigh, she tossed in her quarters and picked up the cards. She pulled the cigar out of her mouth and studied her hand.

  “This game’s either gonna finish me off or keep me in,” Cody commented picking up his cards.

  Buck grabbed up his and looked at them before turning to Joe.

  The other man nodded. “I’ll take two.”

  Buck obliged and did the same for Cody before addressing Sara. She twirled her cigar around her fingers. He rolled his eyes and snapped. “Do you want cards?”

  “Yeah, I’ll take two.” Her head tipped and her mouth twitched. “No, wait. One.”

  Buck flipped one card in front of her. She picked it up, but the expression on her face didn’t change.

  Absently, Buck leaned back in his chair then slammed it back on the floor. He darted a glance at her and, of course, she was watching him steadily. Damn. She was messing up his concentration. His gaze darted to the others, but they didn’t seem to notice anything remiss.

  “Fifty cents.” Joe tossed in his two bucks then another two coins.

  “I’ll raise you twenty-five,” added Slim.

  “I’ll see that, and raise it fifty,” Sara said.

  Buck’s eyebrow rose. If she was raising the bet, she must have something. She could be bluffing. She took a long swallow of her beer and held the n
eck of the bottle to her lips while she studied her cards. He became so focused on her mouth and the beer bottle that he almost completely missed the clue. She’s got nothing! Sara always toyed with her beer when she had nothing. Ha!

  He carefully lifted his own bottle and casually took a drink. “I’ll see that and raise it a buck.” He looked at Sara waiting to see what she’d do.

  “I’m out,” Slim said.

  “Me too,” echoed Joe.

  Sara blinked and set her beer down. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I’ll meet your bet and raise it twenty five.”

  He held her stare, hoping to get her to reveal even more. But she didn’t back down.

  He looked away first. It didn’t matter. He had the one thing she didn’t—cash. He nodded. “I’ll meet that and raise it a buck.”

  She laid down her cards. “I fold.”

  Buck grinned. “That’s a damn shame, seeing as I’ve got nothing.”

  He showed his cards and Cody and Joe laughed.

  Buck stuck his own cigar in his mouth, and smiled as he leaned back in his chair. “Someday you’re actually going to learn how to play this game, little girl.”

  “You just put your money where your mouth is, Beauford. We’re not done yet.”

  Buck frowned and narrowed his eyes at her use of his full name. He glanced at the cowboys who smirked but wisely didn’t dare comment.

  “I’m done.” Joe picked up his empty beer bottle and headed into the kitchen area.

  “Me too. Gotta head over and visit my folks tomorrow so better get some sleep. I’ll talk to you about that fence line on Monday morning, boss.” Cody lifted his hand in a wave, and headed to the bedrooms upstairs.

  “I can’t stand it when you play like that,” Sara complained, shuffling the cards.

  “Hey if you can’t take the heat, get out of the game, darlin’. You want to play with the big boys you gotta learn to take the pain,” Buck gloated. Her funds were rapidly running out. It was only going to take a few hands, a lot of luck, and his plan would come together quite nicely.