It looks like it actually pained him to call me by my name and not add the modifier to it, which makes me smile a bit. It’s cute in a country-boy-charm way. “Well then, that’s good.”
“Come on through. Drive up to the house to park, and I’ll walk you over to the barn,” James says. “If you don’t mind, take the lead? Cooper doesn’t like being followed by vehicles too much.”
I do as instructed, driving slowly so I don’t kick up too much of a cloud behind me as he follows me on horseback. Once I’ve ambled to the front of the house, I shut off the truck, and I’m reaching to the passenger-side floorboard to grab my bag when the door opens behind me.
Turning, I see that James is offering his hand to help me climb out of the truck, but I’ve leaned pretty far over, and his eyes are decidedly fastened to my ass.
Giving him the stink eye, I ignore his hand and hop down on my own, my boots making a little thud as I land. The truck’s not that high, but I’m on the shorter side, so it’s a bit of a drop for my little legs. “I’m fine. I’ve been getting out of cars and trucks on my own for at least a few years now.”
He shrugs, obviously not embarrassed at all about getting caught looking, and leads Cooper off toward the barn without looking back to see if I follow.
But who am I kidding? Of course I’m gonna follow. I’m here to see the horses, after all. And the view from back here is quite nice—I’m enjoying the sweet cowboy ass as James walks, his jeans stretched tight over his muscled butt, making me want to squeeze his cheeks like melons.
As he crosses the threshold of the barn, he stops suddenly, turning back before I can look up, and a dazzling-white smile breaks across his face. “See something you like, darlin’?”
Darlin’. It rolls off his tongue without hesitation, and there’s a hint of sexiness to his voice mixed with a cocky bit of arrogance, like he’s used to women checking out his butt.
It makes me feel bratty and thorny inside, and I automatically shoot back. Maybe he’s used to little wilting wildflowers, but he doesn’t know me. “Just seemed like a fair turn considering you were checking out my ass back there. Or were you checking to see if I’m a Levi’s or Wrangler girl?”
I expect him to deny it, or at most maybe apologize for being improper, but I’m surprised when he admits to peeking.
“Oh, I checked out those Levi’s,” he says with a smirk. “Couldn’t help myself when you leaned over and presented your ass up for my eyes. You should just be glad I had enough restraint to keep from giving you a good smack.”
He mimes smacking my ass in the empty air in front of him, and it’s so outrageous a laugh bursts out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“I guess we’ll call it even then.” Although a good smack on the ass can be fun, I think to myself but dare not say.
I’m still smiling and surprised that, with his antics, he’s settled the ire I was already prepping, and we head into the barn.
I check on Briarbelle, noting for Doc that she seems well, with no obvious signs of infection, and administer her medication dosage.
I do the same for the little foal, watching her nurse for a moment and gently petting along her mane. “She’s beautiful. I’d say you’ve got yourself a very good little filly here. You decided on a name for her yet?”
“Nope, not yet.”
“When you do, let me know? I need it for Doc’s paperwork,” I explain, rubbing the little foal’s ears and looking into her eyes. They’re so big already, and it’s obvious she’s gonna be sweet-tempered.
James leans against the doorframe, watching me but not interfering this time. He clears his throat, the grumble breaking the silence, and I glance up, never stopping the soft rubs along the foal’s side. He scrapes his thumbnail across his lower lip, and he looks shy, although I already know he’s anything but timid.
“Something on your mind?” I ask.
James clears his throat again, and when he speaks, his voice is a little softer, less cocky than I’ve heard him before. “Hey, Sophie? About yesterday, I’m real sorry for being a jerk about you taking care of Briarbelle. And I wanted to apologize for calling you . . . you know. It was uncalled-for and rude. Won’t happen again.”
I stare at him, looking for any tell of insincerity but finding none. He seems truly apologetic. I’m so surprised that my hand stops rubbing the foal, and I turn to face him, just to be sure. Finally, I sigh. It’s hard to be mad at him when he’s looking at me with those damn sexy puppy-dog eyes he’s got going right now, begging forgiveness.
“Apology accepted. Admittedly, tensions were running high, and you don’t know me. I understand that it could’ve felt like it was risky for me to do the delivery when I’m not a vet yet. As for calling me . . .” I look left and right like I don’t want to get caught before continuing in a stage whisper, “. . . a bitch? Like I said, not the first time, and definitely won’t be the last. I’m sorry for being a bit combative back; it didn’t help the situation either. Truce?”
I offer my hand, and he takes it, pulling me a bit closer before shaking it. “Truce.”
There’s a ringing sound outside, and he winces. “Um, there’s just one more thing. Do you want to eat dinner with us? Mama insisted that I ask.”
He looks nervous, like he expects me to say no. He couldn’t be more wrong. I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal since I moved out on my own, and dinner sounds like heaven to me. Besides, maybe I can find out a little more about James and why he goes from cocky to sweet seemingly at the drop of a hat. Still, just to tease a little, I give him a doubtful look. “Well, can your Mama cook?”
He looks offended at first, then smiles. “Of course she can.”
I rub my hands together, grinning. “Well, alright then, show me the way, Cowboy.”
James nods, smirking. “Don’t worry, we’ll do you right.”
He walks away, and a little voice in my head notes something. He didn’t say Mama . . . he said we.
CHAPTER 6
JAMES
I feel like this is a bad idea as I lead Sophie up to the back door. If she opens her mouth about my flirting about smacking her ass, I’m a dead man. Even if she does have an ass worth taking a few risks for.
Before I can even hold the door open properly to lead Sophie in to wash up, Mama is yelling for me. “James, you’d better have that girl with you for dinner, or I’m splitting your serving between your brothers!”
Sophie looks at me, her eyes questioning. I look skyward, knowing I look like a damn whipped mama’s boy and wishing my mother didn’t have to embarrass me like this.
“We’re getting washed up!” I yell before I sigh. Lowering my voice, I explain, “Luke had to tell her about yesterday. She said that until I apologized and got you to come to dinner, I wasn’t invited back to her dinner table.”
Sophie laughs but thankfully keeps it low. “I think I’m gonna like her.”
I grin, relaxing a little at Sophie’s smile. It’s even cuter than how she looked pissed-off and poking me in the chest. “Just make sure you get under your fingernails, or else you’ll find yourself in the doghouse right beside me.”
We finish washing and head inside, where Mama makes a huge fuss over Sophie, leaving her pots and pans behind to come over and greet her with that double handshake that seems to be the specialty of farmers’ wives. “Hello, dear. I’m Louise Bennett, but don’t you dare call me that. Everyone calls me Mama or Mama Lou; best you do the same.”
I see the genuine smile on Sophie’s face. Mama’s got a big heart and can be a bit intense for some people at first, but Sophie takes it in stride, like she’s dealt with overly forward women before. “Nice to meet you, Mama Lou. I’m Sophie Stone.”
Mama lets go of her hands, and she gathers Sophie in a hug, patting her back. “Bless your bones for helping Doc out. Goodness knows that man can use an extra pair of hands.”
Releasing Sophie, Mama holds her at arm’s length, locking her in place physically and with her eyes. “No
w you tell me the truth. Did this boy of mine apologize properly for his unseemly behavior? I want you to know that I raised him better than that.”
Sophie smirks, and for a moment I think that she might say no, just to see what happens. But she relents, nodding. “Yes, ma’am, he did. We both did, actually. I didn’t exactly try to defuse the situation. James was a gentleman, though. We called it even: a truce.”
It clicks a split second after the words are out of her mouth that she’s teasing me. We called our ass ogling “even” and our apologies a “truce.” She’s teasing me about looking at her ass in front of my own mother.
Laughing inside, I realize I underestimated her. She’s more than a pretty face and sweet ass in jeans. Shit, this girl might be trouble. And if there’s anything I like more than riding bulls, it’s trouble.
Mama clicks her tongue, eyeing me like maybe I did something wrong even as Sophie tells her otherwise. “Fine then, c’mon in, you two. If you don’t mind, Sophie, dinner’s going to be a bit more casual than normal; it’s just too warm for the dining room.”
“Not a problem, Mama Lou,” Sophie says.
Mama leads us to the far side of the kitchen, where we’ve got a space that some people call a screened porch, but to Mama, it’s the “casual eating room.” It’s got a big, classic picnic table that we’d have to wrestle out into the yard whenever Pops would throw a thank-you barbecue for any seasonal help, but instead of benches, we’ve got chairs.
I see Mark and Luke already sitting down, obviously eavesdropping on every word we’ve said. Luke is grinning like a madman, and Mark just raises an eyebrow at me, which is basically the same thing considering his stoic nature.
I realize that Mark isn’t sitting in his usual spot. Instead, he’s moved over next to Luke, leaving the chairs on the other side for me and Sophie. I give him a nod in appreciation and pull the chair out for Sophie.
She sits, and after scooting her in, I lower down to sit beside her. Mama nods proudly, as if I don’t know how to be a fucking gentleman when the situation calls for it. Granted, I rarely find myself in those types of situations since I spend most of the year surrounded by rodeo guys. We’re more rough and tumble than proper, but I have learned to be charming on occasion.
“So, Sophie, did you find the ranch easily?” Mama asks after she says grace and dishes start getting passed around. Tonight’s roast beef with potato salad, along with my personal favorite, asparagus that Mama roasted with the beef.
“It was easy. And Briarbelle seems to be doing well—her foal too. By the way, I asked James. He said you guys didn’t have a name for her yet. Any ideas?”
Luke answers, always happy to talk horses with anyone who’ll listen. “She’s doing well, thanks to you. And no name ideas yet. That’s Mama’s honor, and she’s still thinking about it.”
Mama nods, suddenly looking a little sad. “I’ve named every animal we’ve ever had on the ranch. If they had a name, I chose it. This will be the first time I’ve picked alone, though . . .”
An awkward silence settles over the table as us boys all realize something we hadn’t even considered: Briarbelle’s foal will be the first birth since Pops’s passing.
It wasn’t a milestone that even registered with me, and given the looks on Mark’s and Luke’s faces, they hadn’t considered it either.
Sophie seems oblivious to the weight of the moment and charges in. “Alone? I’m sure one of these strapping sons of yours can help if you need a little inspiration. Oh, what about Lunares? It means polka dots in Spanish, and the foal does have the cutest little paint spots along her hindquarters.”
Mark clears his throat, and Sophie’s eyes dart around the table as she realizes the minefield she’s stepped into. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
Mama pats Sophie’s hand but keeps her voice sweet. “No worries, dear. I just meant that this is the first name I’ll pick since John passed away. It’s bittersweet, but a reminder that life goes on, is begun again and again, long after we’re gone.”
From the side, I see Sophie’s jaw drop a split second before she covers her mouth, the gasp still audible. “I . . . I’m so sorry. Truly, I’m sorry for your loss. I had no idea.”
Mama smiles back at her, shaking her head. “It’s alright, dear. You had no reason to know, and I like talking about my John. He was a good man, and I miss him every day. I still expect him to walk in the house every night and give me a kiss as he proclaims that ‘something smells good in here.’” Mama smiles, but I can see her eyes are wet as she dabs at them.
Sophie smiles at Mama, somehow understanding the most important part of what she said. “Can you tell me about him?”
Mama takes a big breath, and I swear I take just as big of one in a futile attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. It’s been the one good thing about being so busy with monotonous work around the ranch—I don’t have too much time to think about what’s changed.
Mama smiles, sets down her spoon, and folds her hands under her chin, looking off into the evening’s purple light. “He was a ranch hand who came to work in my hometown back when we first met. I was just a townie, working at the local diner, and I’d seen plenty of men like him before. They’d come in with the drives, leave in winter, and generally you saw them for a year, maybe two, before they went somewhere else. But as soon as I saw him that first time, something told me John was different. When he came in, I always made sure to get his table. I knew his order by heart, but I always went over so he’d tell me, just so I’d have a chance to talk to him. And that November, when most of the other hands moved on . . . he got a job working nights at a gas station until he could get on permanently with one of the ranches.
“Anyway, we dated a few years until I was old enough to marry, and by then, he’d saved up enough of his wages to make his move. My parents thought he was crazy at first; it was halfway across the country and on unincorporated property, just a patch way out in the middle of nowhere. But I believed in him, and I believed in our love. So we did it. We both worked long hours, seven days a week. Over the years, we bought the land around us, raised more cattle, and along the way, did our best work . . . raising these three ragamuffin boys.”
She pauses to look around the table, meeting eyes with each of us before settling her gaze on the empty chair opposite her at the table. “It was really around the time James was born that I realized we’d ‘made it,’ at least by rancher standards. We could tend our own, we made our payments to the bank on time even in bad years, and we were putting a little aside every month for the boys. John was so proud, and he vowed to me that they would have better lives than we had.”
We all kind of look around at each other, taking in what she’s saying before she continues.
“And John was right, they’ve all grown up to have their own lives . . . Mark here with me running the ranch, Luke working the horses and traveling for his breeding and training programs, and of course James, the wild child who risks life and limb to ride bulls in the rodeo.”
Sophie gives me a sharp look, staring at me like I’m nuts. “Rodeo?” she mouths, but I just smile back, not willing to interrupt this stroll down memory lane.
“I thought it was paradise . . . but life has a way of throwing you curveballs from time to time. John passed away, and it hasn’t been the same since. But we’re family, and we’ve pulled together the way he would’ve wanted us to. We’re doing as well as can be expected, I believe.”
Mama shakes her head, seeming to let the moment pass. I’m glad; her last words have me damn near on the edge of tears, and I think Luke feels the same. Mama moves on, looking at Sophie. “So, tell me about you. How’d you end up with Doc?”
I’m actually interested to hear this story myself, something about her gorgeous looks and sassy spirit not really seeming to translate to being a girl who grew up in a barn.
Sophie smiles, even though her eyes are glistening a little too. “If you’d have told me five years ago t
hat I’d be out here, I’d have called you crazy. I was a city girl who got stuck in an agricultural-science class on accident. Or maybe it was fate, who knows? But I fell in love with the animals and changed majors, much to my brother’s chagrin, and here I am. I wanted to keep busy this summer before starting vet school, so I talked with my adviser, and in a network of connections, I got the job working for Doc.”
“All on your lonesome?” Mama asks, and I’m surprised too. Takes guts to do what Sophie’s done so far.
“My brother and sister-in-law are nearby, plus some friends and extended family, but pretty much I’m running solo. It’s good, though; I feel lucky to work with Doc. He sees such a variety of animals, and it’s great to be out in the field, really working and being of service. Jake, my brother, hoped I’d spend some time back home this summer before buckling down for vet school, but the timing worked out for both of us; since I wasn’t coming home, he could go on tour with his wife.”
I look over, intrigued. “Tour? What kind of tour?”
Sophie smiles at me, but it’s a bit shy, like this is a part of her life that she’s not exactly parading around. “Um, an album-release tour. Sorry, I don’t usually throw it out there in my first conversations with folks, but my sister-in-law is Roxy, the pop star? She married my brother when I was a teenager, so it’s just normal to us, but folks kinda flip sometimes when they find out.”
She looks around the table, eyebrows raised as if appraising whether we’re those type of folks, but we’re all straight-faced; pop music isn’t really our music of choice. Still, everyone knows who Roxy is. I guess I can understand why Sophie would want to keep that quiet; she’s trying to get respect on her own. Admirable.
Mama smiles. I know she sometimes listens to a little pop when she thinks us boys aren’t around. “That was a lot about your brother, but your parents must be quite proud since it sounds like both of you are successful?”
Sophie’s smile falters, but her voice never quavers. “Yeah, my folks were great, but they passed a long time ago. Car accident when I was ten.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 4