How to Handle a Cowboy

by Joanne Kennedy

  “I’m a rodeo cowboy, remember? ‘Sticking’ is what I do. I don’t quit.”

  “For eight seconds.”

  He wanted to argue, but she had a point.

  She pointed a french fry at him. “You’re a single man who’s been on the rodeo circuit most of your adult life. You’re used to change, to being on the road, right? I don’t see how you could create a home for a child when you’re always on the road.”

  “I’m not going on the road anymore.” He’d been resting his bad hand on the table while he ate, but now he put it out of sight in his lap. This wasn’t the topic he’d wanted to discuss.

  She nipped off the end of a french fry. “But once they fix your hand…”

  Damn it, he was going to have to say it out loud. He didn’t mind discussing his injury with his brothers, but admitting defeat here, right in the middle of the Red Dawg, seemed so public. And that made his situation seem final in a way it never had before.

  He lifted his hand from the table and showed how stiff the fingers were. “Can’t.”

  Damn. Can’t was a word Bill had taught him should never be said. But in this case, it was true.

  “You can’t bend them?”

  She reached over and took his hand, forming the fingers into a fist. They bent all right, but as soon as she let go the hand opened again. He felt like slamming it against the table. The doctors said the problem wasn’t just in the hand; he had a neck injury that contributed to the problem. They’d tried to fix it with a spinal fusion, but it hadn’t worked.

  “Nerve damage,” he said.

  She was giving him that pitying look again, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

  “It’s okay. It was time to quit anyway. I was the world champion bronc rider last year and the year before. That was my goal. I made it, and I’m done.”

  There. Now she was looking at him with some respect. She’d never know that championship hadn’t been his final goal—that he’d had to quit short of winning the All-Around.

  Quit. That was the other word Bill had outlawed. God, he felt like such a failure.

  He knew it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t his fault. His hand had been caught fast in the rigging, and the horse, a bronc named Twister who’d ruined more than one cowboy, rolled over on him. Accidents happened in rodeo all the time. That day, it had happened to him.

  But he still felt like he’d failed somehow.

  Sierra reached over and put her hand over his good hand. Did she realize he couldn’t eat now? He couldn’t pick up a french fry with his bad hand, for God’s sake. He shook her off.

  “Sorry.” She seemed to realize she’d made a wrong move. Picking up her burger, she took a bite and eyed him warily, apparently unaware that the bun was dripping condiments onto her leg.

  Wariness beat pity, anyway.

  “I’m ready to move on,” he said. “It’s time to do something new, something that does some good in the world.” He remembered what Shane had said. “Rodeo’s good for learning toughness and try, and for building up your strength. It’s a good world for a young man. But in the end, it’s all about buckles and babes, and that’s not enough anymore.”

  He watched her tackle the end of her hamburger, licking up a drop of ketchup that threatened to drip out the back of the bun.

  “Do you think you might be moving a little fast?” she asked. “It’s a big change. Maybe you should—I mean, maybe it would be good to…” She patted her mouth with her napkin and took a deep breath. “Ridge, you don’t seem to have a job. How are you going to support a bunch of kids? The state gives you money, and I know you’ve got the ranch, but is it enough to live on?”

  He grinned. This was one problem he didn’t have. “Well, for one thing, I have enough rodeo winnings in the bank to buy the ranch three times over, and it’s a big ranch. For another thing, I’m pretty well-known around here as a horse trainer, so I can make a living with that.”

  “Oh.” She bit into another french fry, contemplating him as she chewed. Once she’d swallowed, she patted her mouth again. He was starting to learn this was a signal that she was about to say something uncomfortable. “But won’t you miss rodeo? Guts and glory, adoring women—all that stuff?”

  He was starting to understand her issues. She didn’t understand who he was. She couldn’t see past the carefree athlete who lived on the road. She had no idea how disciplined he was, how goal oriented.

  “No,” he said. “I know what I want. And once I take something on, I don’t quit until I’ve succeeded. You don’t have to worry about me changing my mind.”

  “But there is no success in this. You know that, right? You can’t just fix these kids.”

  “Bill fixed me. And my brothers.”

  She locked her eyes on his. “So you have no lingering effects from your childhood?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do you?”

  “We all do. Bill didn’t flick a switch, and neither can you. If he were still alive—and I’m really sorry he’s not, by the way—he’d still worry about you, wouldn’t he? He’d still be your dad, taking care of you.”

  Something about that phrase brought a lump to Ridge’s throat, but he swallowed it down and moved on. He was a grown man now. He didn’t need anybody taking care of him; it was his turn to take care of someone.

  He thought of the old man’s will. He’d left the ranch to all three of the boys, of course. But he’d left them more advice than money, page after page of close-typed text on how to live a good man’s life. Nobody complained. Bill’s wisdom had meant more to them than anything. More, even, than their home.

  They used Bill’s advice every day, so Sierra was right; they still needed him. The job was never done.

  “I’m not saying you can’t do it,” she said. “I’m just saying it’s a lifelong commitment, one that’s not always easy to deal with.”

  “I can deal with it.”

  She seemed to accept that answer—or at least, she went back to her french fries and ate with a little more enthusiasm. He went back to his too, although he sure wished he could have something to drink with it. Sierra was probably thirsty too.

  “Hey, I’d go to the bar and get you something to drink, but that’s Chrissie’s dad.” He gestured toward the bartender. “Poor kid’s always in trouble. Don’t want to cause her more.”

  “I’m fine.” Sierra smiled. “She’s a cute kid.”

  Ridge smiled. Shelley would’ve been up there at the bar, insisting on some sweet pink girlie drink and complaining about the service. Which would have made Chrissie even more of a wreck, and then she’d have screwed up their food too.

  They ate for a while before he spoke again. “Look, I might not be perfect dad material. But I’ll respect them, I’ll protect them, and I’ll teach them right from wrong.”

  She smiled gently. “You forgot something.”

  “That too. You know I—care about them.” He waited for her to point out that maybe a man who couldn’t even say the word love wasn’t capable of it. Shelley had always gone on about that. But Sierra just nodded. Maybe she understood that what you did was a lot more important than what you said.

  “So how do I start?” he asked.

  “Well, you’ll need to fix up the ranch first.”

  “What’s wrong with the ranch?” He and his brothers knew the house needed updating, but none of them had been there long enough to do anything about it. Still, the place was comfortable. It might not be a mansion, but it was home.

  “It has to pass a pretty rigorous inspection before they’ll let kids live there. You’ll have to bring it up to code. Wiring, plumbing—I’m betting that stuff’s as old as the building or close.” He had to nod. “And there’s one more thing.”

  He waited for her to finish, but she seemed to be having trouble getting the words out.

  “Go on,” he said. “What is it?”

  She looked wary. “They generally don’t approve single men.”

  He should have realized that.
With all the hideous cases of abuse in the papers lately, no man would be trusted with a child on his own. Never mind that the only people who had ever smacked Ridge around as a kid were women. In the minds of most people, it was men who couldn’t be trusted.

  “Hmm.” He thought a moment. “Maybe we ought to reconsider that relationship.”

  She gave him an eye roll worthy of a sarcastic seventh grader. “I thought you were only good for one-night stands.”

  “That was a slight exaggeration.” Even as he said it, he remembered what Shelley said. You don’t need the things other people need. You think that makes you strong. But it doesn’t. It just makes you alone.

  Maybe this wasn’t something he could do. He’d learned the value of family from Bill and Irene, but he’d failed miserably at the only long-term relationship he’d ever attempted. He thought he could be a good parent, maybe even a great one. But husband? That word scared him.

  It wasn’t right. He knew he could create the right environment for a child. Along with his brothers, he owned the right environment. Decker Ranch had been paradise to all three of them, and no state home could ever match it—no matter how many Sierras there were out there.

  Not that there were very many. He’d never had a housemother or even a counselor who seemed to care as much as Sierra did. Maybe he’d been right when he’d said they should reconsider the relationship. She was a great group-home manager. Wouldn’t she be an even better mother in a real family?

  She was just what he needed.

  Chapter 30

  Ridge couldn’t help watching Sierra as the flickering candle lit those sparkling green eyes. It certainly wouldn’t be any hardship to make those eyes shine every night and wake up to them every morning.

  “Quit looking at me like that,” she said.

  “Like how?”

  “Like you’re thinking you might use me to get what you want.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  Not exactly, anyway. Well, maybe, sort of.

  Actually, she’d hit the nail right on the head. But it wouldn’t be using her if he genuinely cared about her, would it?

  He did his best to shut out Shelley’s voice, echoing from the past. She’d pointed out that there was something missing in his emotional makeup, probably because, in her words, he had “abandonment issues.” She’d claimed he was afraid of being hurt again, so he never allowed himself to love anyone fully.

  He’d had to admit that he hadn’t loved Shelley in the unreserved, all-out way some of his friends loved their wives or girlfriends. He knew guys who’d quit rodeo for the women they loved. He’d had to admit to Shelley that he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t give up the job that was the core of his identity just to make her happy. He didn’t think he should have to, but that seemed to be the test a man had to pass. And he couldn’t see himself ever passing it. Not willingly.

  As if on cue, a sharp pain shot from his shoulder to his hand, reminding him that he’d had to give up his lifelong passion anyway. So he’d lost the girl and the job.

  He missed the job. He knew he should miss Shelley too, but all he’d felt was relief when she’d left. He knew she’d deserved better, but even when he reached deep into himself and squeezed everything he had out of his heart, he hadn’t been able to give her more.

  He realized he was staring at Sierra as all these thoughts swirled through his mind. Some girls would have smiled. Some would have fixed their makeup.

  Sierra crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, cocking her head to do an uncanny imitation of Sluefoot.

  He laughed, and she joined in, launching into a case of the giggles that had everybody in the Red Dawg craning their necks to see what was so funny.

  And for some reason, that did it, sure as if she’d flipped a switch. He remembered how Bill and Irene had laughed together, sharing secret jokes nobody else knew. He wanted that, and he knew, in this moment, that he could have it with Sierra. He could actually fall in love with this girl.

  Maybe he already had.

  For now, they could work together. She could help him figure out what the ranch needed. Meanwhile, he’d do his best to make her see him in a new light, and he’d try to open up his heart a little more.

  It would be a stealth courtship. If he succeeded, she wouldn’t even know what had hit her.

  Shane would laugh at that idea. Subtlety had never been Ridge’s strong suit, but hey, a man could learn, right? Especially if the prize was big enough.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “I’m going to try, anyway, and see what happens. It can’t hurt to fix up the ranch, right? I need something to do anyway. And maybe, somewhere along the way, I’ll find a woman who can make it work.”

  She shrugged one shoulder in a move so casual it had to be faked. “Maybe.”

  Chrissie arrived, triumphantly bearing a Coke and a glass of water. With a proud flourish, she placed the Coke in front of Ridge and gave Sierra the water.

  “How’s that?” she asked.

  “Perfect.”

  They traded drinks as soon as the waitress turned her back, and then they were laughing again, softer this time, their eyes meeting as they shared their secret joke.

  He’d have to get to work on that list when he got home, add some detail. Bring the house up to code would be the first addition. And the next would be Find wife. Or, maybe, given his shortcomings, find partner. Surely there was someone who wanted a family, like he did, but had the same kind of difficulty giving her whole heart. And maybe, just maybe, that person was sitting right in front of him.

  He remembered what she’d said after they made love. I might not ever get married. The boys are all the family I need.

  Maybe she’d been lying, trying to play it cool, but he didn’t think Sierra was that manipulative. She wouldn’t have said those things if she hadn’t meant them.

  He was tempted to remind her, to argue that they both wanted the same things and should be together, but then he remembered what kind of courtship this was.

  Stealth.

  “So. What do I need to do to the house?” he asked.

  The smile dimmed. “You realize you could do all this work and not succeed, right?”

  “No. You work hard enough, you get what you want.”

  She laughed like he’d made a joke then sobered. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  “It’s worked for me so far. It’ll work with this.”

  “Okay. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you want this so much?”

  He thought a moment, about what he felt and also what she’d want to hear. He decided she’d want to hear the truth.

  “I want to give back. I want to do for someone else what Bill did for me. He showed me you can change someone’s life just by giving them a chance.”

  “Okay.” Apparently, he’d passed some test. “I’ll get you the requirements for the renovation.” She suddenly stilled. “The renovation. Oh my gosh.” She practically bounced in her chair with excitement. “Sure. You should definitely do it.”

  “Great.” He made a triumphant X on his mental to-do list. His foot was in the stirrup; now all he had to do was swing into the saddle and take the reins.

  “It’s really good that you want to give someone a chance, change lives,” she said. “I’ve got a really good place for you to start.”

  Uh-oh. He had a feeling he’d overplayed his hand. “Like what?”

  “Riley’s working on a certificate in home renovation. She just needs to do one project—a whole-house project, with things like electrical, plumbing, all that kind of thing.”

  Shoot. He didn’t want Riley fixing his house. But how could he say no?

  “She needs a place to stay too, so it’s perfect.”

  Perfect? Hardly.

  Before he could speak, Sierra read his expression. She held up her hands to stop his protest. “Just give her a chance for a day or two. See if it’ll work out.” S
he looked down at the table and fussily brushed some crumbs into her hand, dumping them in her napkin. “She’s a good person. You’ll see. Somebody helped you, remember?”

  “I was a kid. Why are you so hell-bent on helping a grown woman?”

  “I owe her,” Sierra said. “Trust me, I owe her way beyond anything I owe anyone. If you can’t let her stay a couple days, I’ll have to take some kind of leave until I get her situated. And then they’d have to send someone else to take care of the boys.” She folded the napkin neatly and began wiping the table. “I could even get fired. I’ll definitely have to break into my savings. I see Riley as family, but I doubt they’ll give me family leave to take care of her.”

  He sighed. There was something about Riley that reminded him of his mother. She’d been the same kind of helpless waif, relying on a series of men to take care of her. When that didn’t work out, she’d relied on drugs instead, and eventually she’d lost custody of Ridge and his brother. Ridge had landed on his feet, but he didn’t know what had happened to his older brother. Last he knew, Tell had disappeared without a trace into the same underworld that had claimed his mom.

  His mother had taken away something more than his brother when she’d given up her parental rights. She’d robbed him of a confidence in the rightness of the world that other people took for granted. It wasn’t fair to people like Riley, but she’d left him with a distaste for weakness. The feeling was so ingrained, he couldn’t get past it.

  “Don’t think of it as helping Riley,” Sierra said. “Think of it as helping the boys, and working toward your goal. Really, she’s great at this renovation stuff.” She reached across the table and set her hand on his arm. The touch fired up a whole bunch of neurons, which carried their message straight to his brain and dizzied it into submission. That was the only possible explanation for what he said next.

  “It’s just on a trial basis, right? For a couple of days.”

  Sierra beamed. “Right.”

  He nodded reluctantly then felt his reluctance lift as a thought struck him.

  “Okay. But you’re right about the ranch. It’s in pretty bad shape.” He tried to look regretful, but he’d never been much of an actor and he suspected it came off more like indigestion. “I don’t know where to put her. Why don’t you come out and take a look? You can see if it’ll be okay for her.”