Enchanted by the Rodeo Queen--A Clean Romance

by Melinda Curtis

  “We brought you cookies,” Emily blurted. Immediately, she wanted to be swallowed by a sinkhole. She got off the quad and produced the canister of cookies.

  “I already said that,” Jonah said mulishly, not living up to the hype of her romance consultant, although he did turn his back to Bo and mouth to Emily, “Fix your hair.”

  “I’m sorry, I...” She handed Jonah the tin of cookies and finger-combed her windblown locks. “I couldn’t hear what Jonah said. My ears were ringing from the motor.” She could speak if she didn’t look at Bo. Em turned her gaze to the closest cabin, which was larger than the rest. “This used to be the mess hall, I think.”

  “It will be again,” Bo assured her. “Jonah, did you get to go on your little field trip to the bandit’s lair? If so, you can help me cut two-by-fours tomorrow. We can race to see who can cut the most.”

  “I’m taking a hiatus from competing,” Jonah grumbled.

  Emily decided to barge into their conversation, risking a glance at Bo. “Don’t mind Jonah,” she blurted, talking faster than an auctioneer. “He’s stressing about Letty and my grandmother grilled him about being a bachelor. She thinks he’s afraid of kids.”

  Bo wasn’t looking at Emily like she was annoying, but he wasn’t looking at her as if he wanted a date, either.

  “I’m not afraid of children. You haven’t seen me running from your nephews, have you?” Jonah set his red-whiskered jaw. “Besides, I used to make a good living writing stories about impish kids.”

  “Wow. Yeah. My bad. I got that wrong.” Em snorted and quickly put a hand up to her mouth. “Granny was asking him about being a dad. She thinks he’s scared of being a father.”

  Talk about throwing Jonah to the wolves.

  “She thought I’d make a good dad someday, when I was ready.” Jonah’s arms were crossed over his chest. “Not that I sought her approval. I wanted to know about Letty.” Jonah smoothly changed the subject, explaining about the grave they’d found. “Gertie doesn’t know who she is.”

  “A mystery woman.” Bo waggled his dark brows, warming up to Jonah for the first time since they’d arrived. “You know what this means.”

  “No.” Jonah shook his head and thrust the tin of cookies at Bo. “Definitely, no.”

  “What does it mean?” Emily asked.

  Bo dug into the tin for an oatmeal cookie and took a bite. “It means Merciless Mike Moody had a wife. He had a heart. He had ki—”

  “If you say kids, I’m never bringing you cookies again,” Jonah grouched.

  “But you write them so well.” Bo winked at Emily, which nearly brought Em and her eggs to their knees. “Maybe Mike’s gang was made up of his children.” He handed Emily a cookie.

  Even though she’d already eaten three cookies when they were hot out of the oven, Emily accepted his offering. “Jonah, do you want a cookie?”

  Bo closed his tin of cookies and then handed Jonah his unopened bottle of water. Jonah didn’t seem upset to be denied a snack. He drank water instead.

  The cookie seemed to lighten Bo’s mood even more. He showed them around, taking them into a few of the cabins he’d repaired. “Things would go faster—” he poked Jonah’s shoulder “—with help. The kids are depending upon the Monroes to have this camp ready in time.”

  “Maybe I’ll come by for a bit in the morning,” Jonah said, finally relenting. “Is this where you’re staying?”

  They entered a cabin that was in better shape than the rest. A small cot sat in the corner next to a duffel and a pile of what looked like dirty clothes. A cowboy hat hung from a hook on a wall.

  “Five-star accommodations.” Bo sounded like he believed it, but that narrow cot didn’t look comfortable.

  “There’s room in our bunkhouse if you want a bed and some company.” Emily blushed. “I mean if you don’t mind sleeping with Jonah. Not in the same bed but—”

  “He knows what you mean.” Jonah headed back to the ATV. “Separate beds, Bo. Just like when we were little.”

  Bo laid a gentle hand on Emily’s arm, holding her back.

  Mr. Bodalicious is touching me!

  Emily’s heart tried to pound its way out of her chest.

  “Was Jonah okay on the trail ride today?” Bo asked.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t he be?” Emily was reminded of her suspicion that Jonah had been sick. He might still be recovering.

  Instead of answering her, Bo shuttered his gaze and released her. “Watch out for him, will you?”

  “Sure. Of course.” Anything for Mr. Bodalicious.

  “Time to go, Aunty Em,” Jonah called from the quad.

  “He can be a trial,” Bo told her, still using that lowered secret-keeping voice. “But he’s totally worth it.”

  “Totally...” Bo thought she wanted to date Jonah? Emily’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “Aunty Em,” Jonah called, saving her from the horror of trying to correct Bo’s impression.

  Emily got on the quad and brought the engine roaring to life. She drove too fast, letting the wind cool her cheeks. And once she was in the equipment shed, she flung herself off before Jonah could move. “I can’t believe it. Bo thinks I want to date you.” Or worse. He thought they were already dating. “This is a disaster.” As soon as the words were spoken she regretted them. “I’m sorry. It’s not that you’re not datable.”

  Quite the opposite, the eggs murmured.

  “Or that I wouldn’t want to date you.” Her face burned so hot sweat popped out on her forehead. She wiped it away. “Not that I want to date you... Not that I wouldn’t date you if you were a cowboy.” She made a strangled noise and considered making a run for the house.

  “You should have quit while you were ahead.” Jonah sat sideways on the quad, crossing his arms and giving her a half smile.

  “You know what I mean.” Emily stomped around the quad. “You’re datable to city women. You don’t have to enjoy this so much.”

  He quirked a brow. “Are you through trying to dig yourself out of that hole?”

  She covered her face with her hands. “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

  “Why do you have to make it so easy to tease you?” He stood and gently pried her hands from her face, keeping hold of them. “Bo’s misunderstanding about us isn’t necessarily the end of the world.”

  “What? You think he’s going to try and steal me away from you the way he stole your fiancée?” That would never happen.

  “There was no stealing. And yes, we’ve always been competitive.” He shrugged. “So...it’s a possibility.”

  “Nobody has ever fought over me.” The concept was hard to believe but also a bit of an ego boost. “Ever.”

  “Somebody should’ve,” Jonah said in a thick voice.

  The sentiment behind his words was so lovely Emily couldn’t say anything for a moment. And then her curiosity returned. “If your fiancée loved you both and you broke it off, why didn’t she and Bo end up together?”

  Jonah’s eyes filled with regret. “They... Aria and Bo would never do something that would hurt me.” He dropped his hands to his sides.

  Emily’s stomach fell along with them. What an awful thing to have happened to Jonah. Not to mention to Bo and Aria. Her heart ached for them all.

  Jonah stared out at the ranch yard. “And now it seems like it’s too late for them.”

  “I... You...” Emily drew a deep breath, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. “Tell me I’m not a pawn in this drama being played out between you and your cousin.”

  “Honestly?” His blue gaze hit her with a soulful intensity that pinned her in place. “Initially, I hadn’t thought much beyond what I wanted out of our deal.” He sighed and then brushed his hands through her hair and around to the back of her neck. “But...”

  The word hung between them
. It hung, like a pause before a first kiss.

  Perplexed, Emily waited for the pause to end. And waited... Perhaps he didn’t realize she was good at waiting.

  “The more I get to know you, the more I just want you to be happy.” His hands caressed the back of her neck. “Now that we’ve put you on the path to Bo, I really need help with some dialogue. You’re good at it, you know.”

  “What you need help with...” Is making a move on a woman who’s practically in your arms. Emily gasped. Her eggs had taken over the wheel for a moment. She took a step back. “I’m no help with creative writing, but if you want to give me more tips about Bo, you can find me after dinner at the firepit.” She turned, heading toward the house, and then stopped. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

  “I have food in the bunkhouse.”

  “Rabbit food.” She was amazed he was so strong given what little he ate.

  Jonah nodded, looking so mournful she ran back and hugged him. His arms came around her with that surprising strength.

  “I’m sorry about your fiancée.” And Bo. And whatever had caused him to get so thin and worry Bo about his health. She squeezed Jonah tighter, wanting to make it all better.

  “That’s not why I’m bummed,” he said huskily.

  “Good.” Emily wanted to linger. She wanted...

  Jonah wasn’t her ideal cowboy, but he called to something in her soul.

  Help me out here, eggs.

  But her eggs were silent, leaving Emily to do the responsible thing for a woman with cowboy dreams—pull away, excuse herself and escape.

  * * *

  EXTERIOR. MIKE’S CAMP AT NIGHT. He sits at a campfire next to a freshly dug grave. There are two horses tied to a picket line at the edge of the firelight. A lockbox sits unopened next to him, along with a child’s reader.

  “OH, MIKE IS moody all right.” Jonah stared at the words on the page. “Just not merciless.” And neither was he.

  He’d hugged Emily. And it wasn’t the kind of teasing hug he’d given her on her birthday. It was the kind of hug high school slow dances were made of. They’d held onto each other while they talked, barely moving.

  At the time, all he had to do was pull back a little, shift a little and then give her a little kiss.

  Except...

  There’d be nothing little about kissing Emily. She did everything on a large scale.

  Kiss Emily? It would have been an all-out adventurous expedition, full of unexpected thrills.

  Kiss Emily? Jonah wanted to do no such thing. She had her heart set on Bo. Hadn’t he learned anything from his engagement to Aria?

  He closed his laptop, which was a mistake. He needed to keep working on the script, horrible as this first draft was turning out to be. But all he could think about was Emily and her determination to find a cowboy.

  And if he thought about Emily long enough, his thoughts circled around to the bargain they’d made. It was laughable, him giving her love advice to attract Bo. In fact, it was romantic comedy–laughable. If Jonah had any interest in writing rom-coms, this would be the perfect idea.

  Cowgirl needs romantic assist from city slicker to catch a cowboy.

  It didn’t matter that Emily was completely wrong for Bo. It was comedy gold.

  His gaze shifted toward the watercolor painting on the refrigerator. That jaded face. His face. It was the portrait of a selfish man, a writer who hadn’t always lifted his head from his keyboard to make sure he was being a good person. The man in the watercolor wouldn’t fit Emily’s idea of a family man, cowboy or not.

  Giving in to temptation, Jonah reopened his laptop and pounded out an opening of a romantic comedy where a cowgirl was overlooked by a wealthy cowboy. In no time, he wrote a complete scene that wasn’t half bad. And—shocker—there weren’t any adorable kids in it. It was so earth-shattering Jonah called his father.

  “Yes.” Lincoln Monroe sounded like he was driving, distracted and not pleased to field Jonah’s call.

  “Hey, Dad.” Jonah forced himself to play it cool. “Just calling to check in.”

  “Are you still in Idaho?”

  The truthful answer to that question wouldn’t make him happy. “I’ve been working on a script and—”

  “Son, I hope you haven’t been working on that Western. I read the treatment and the premise is interesting, but...” His father honked the horn and swore. “If I was producing it, I wouldn’t hire you. Your voice isn’t a good fit for such dark material, it’s young and irreverent.”

  Jonah felt like honking and swearing in an irreverent manner. His own father didn’t believe he could do justice to Mike Moody’s story.

  “Play to your strengths,” his dad stated in the way know-it-all dads did.

  But... Does he know what my strengths are? Do I?

  “Son? Are you still there?” His father’s voice was laden with annoyance. “I said you should stay in your lane, focus on what you do best.”

  “Fifth grade fart humor, you mean.” Jonah closed his eyes. “Thanks for your opinion, Dad.”

  “Anytime, son. Just because you’re not my employee doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Now go out and find a project that suits your skill set.”

  “Love you, too, Dad.” Jonah stared at the ceiling and shook his head. “Gotta go.”

  Father disconnected. Dreams trampled. Confidence shot. Jonah tried to look at the bright side.

  “Someday, a film student is going to make a documentary of my life and spend a good five minutes on this moment.” He drummed his fingers on top of the computer. “The low point in my life. When my own father didn’t think I should stretch myself.”

  He had to get out of the bunkhouse. Not that he was going to go to the firepit behind the ranch house to see if Emily was there. But once outside, he loaded his arms with some firewood stacked near the bunkhouse door before he walked around to the back of the Clark home. If Emily was there, she’d appreciate more wood to throw on the fire. He’d just drop it off and say good-night.

  Emily had a big fire burning and her boots propped on the concrete brick rim of the pit.

  Jonah set down his load of firewood and then sat down in the chair next to her as if he’d meant to do so all along. Neither one of them said anything. Like him, she probably regretted that hug.

  “I haven’t sat in a chair like this in twenty years.” Jonah shifted his weight, causing the seat webbing to creak. “When my grandfather took us on summer trips to places like Mount Rushmore and the Adirondacks, we each had our own chair.” Often, at night, those chairs had been set up in rows while they performed small plays Jonah had written.

  “Sounds like fun.” Emily continued staring into the flames. “We used to go on trail rides up the valley with Franny’s parents, driving their cattle from the upper pastures and back.”

  “Did they help you move your cattle?”

  “No. We have fewer in our herd to move. Maybe a hundred. Sometimes more. Franny’s family runs about a thousand head. Anyway, it was during those drives that Granny Gertie would tell stories of Merciless Mike Moody.”

  Jonah wouldn’t be going on cattle drives, wouldn’t be sleeping under the stars and worrying about what might crawl or slither into his sleeping bag. “Bucking bulls, cattle drives. Your need for a cowboy makes sense.” If not Bo, someone else would come along, especially if Jonah came through for Shane with that script.

  “Every cowgirl needs a cowboy.” Her shoulders flinched in an almost shrug, as if she was questioning her resolve.

  What was going on in that head of hers? He didn’t know why it was important to understand Emily. He should have been trying harder to understand Mike Moody. But Emily was there within reach and Mike Moody was just a whisper in his head. “Idaho is true cowboy country.” Or so he’d been told. “Why hasn’t some yahoo snapped you up before?”

 
“I’m inconvenient.” She ground her boots against the concrete block, almost as if trying to snuff out the label.

  “Inconvenient? Well, that much is clear to me.” And thank you for the opportunity to lighten up the mood. “But don’t forget you’re outspoken and stubborn.” And a spitfire. What was wrong with men in Idaho that they didn’t see what a great catch she was?

  Her scowl made Jonah want to add “often annoyed” to his list of descriptors for her.

  “I’m inconvenient because I’ve been needed here,” she said testily. “First, when the boys were young and then after my brother Kyle died. Most folks run their own spread or work someone else’s. I’m not able to afford my own ranch. And I’m not much for taking orders. I like doing things my way. The Clark way.”

  The fire crackled and hissed.

  “You know, Bo has a life in Texas.” And not on a ranch.

  “He’s making a life here.” There was some of that stubbornness.

  Temporarily. Jonah didn’t have the heart to tell her that, not after they’d shared that hug. “You were too nervous around him today.”

  She grimaced. “Mr. Bodalicious is an intimidating presence.”

  “Mr. Bodalicious?” Wait until he called Bo that. “I shudder to imagine what you call me.”

  That grimace turned right around. “Mr. Hollywood. City slicker. Greenhorn.”

  “Not Mr. Jodilicious?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Let’s not overanalyze what happened today. I have you in my corner. That should be enough to let nature take its course.”

  A cold shaft of guilt pierced his shoulder blades. Bo wasn’t going to ask Emily out.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily turned toward him. “Are you stewing about Letty?”

  Jonah wasn’t going to admit he was stewing about her, which was infinitely better than stewing about his father’s opinion of his talent.

  “You’d better spill, city boy.” Emily had a firm way of looking at a man that said she could take whatever he dished out and sling it right back. “You know I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

  He sat back, unable to contain a grin. “The country girl has learned interrogation tactics now?”