The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  They continued beyond the barn to a large fenced-in pen containing a small three-walled shelter tucked beneath a cluster of trees. The spacious pen contained mounds of hay bales and a collection of wooden crates stacked at various heights. Having always taken a different route around the homestead on her way to Pilar’s, Courtney hadn’t even known the pen was there.

  As they neared, she saw a goat standing atop the stacked crates. He was a caramel-brown color with large white markings, and he stared at their approach with intent round eyes. As soon as Dean stepped up to the gate, the goat jumped to the ground and came forward, bleating noisily.

  Courtney had never been in the presence of a goat before. She was surprised by the animal’s abrupt movements, but Dean just reached out and gave a little scratch between its long, curved horns as he urged the goat aside so he could fully open the gate and enter the pen.

  Then he turned back to look at Courtney.

  Whatever had been shining so intently from his gaze earlier was now firmly banked behind his typically serious expression. “You coming in?”

  Courtney glanced at the goat standing next to Dean and eyeing her intently. “I thought I heard once that goats have a tendency to charge at people.”

  “If they’re agitated.” Dean lifted his brows. “Do you intend to agitate old Jeb here?”

  “No, not intentionally,” she replied warily.

  “Come on. Jeb will never forgive you if you don’t give him some attention before going to meet the kids.”

  Stepping through the gate, she cautiously closed and latched it behind her. The caramel-brown goat came up to her and rubbed his head against her thigh. She tentatively placed her hand on his head, noting the coarse texture of his hair beneath her fingers. He gave a playful series of nods until she started scratching as she had seen Dean do.

  “His name is Jeb?” she asked, warming to the insistent creature with his big, gold-colored eyes.

  “Yep. He’s our buck. He needs to stay separate from the nan and kids, so we’ve got him out here. Once the little ones are big enough to use the pen, we’ll move Jeb over to Randall’s place.”

  “Would he harm them?”

  “No. But his purpose is breeding, so unless we want more kids, he’ll be kept at a distance. You ready to head to the barn?”

  Courtney nodded. She followed Dean from the pen with Jeb close at her heels, eager for more attention.

  “Stay back, you ornery goat,” Dean muttered in a tone that was more affectionate than anything else as he held the buck back with one hand so he could securely latch the gate with the other. “If you behave yourself, I’m sure the pretty lady will be back to say hello another day.”

  Courtney’s insides gave a funny twist. Did Dean even realize he’d just called her pretty? She fought against the rise of warmth to her cheeks as she followed him into the barn via a side entrance. She’d never before been so strongly affected by such a simple compliment. Likely because she’d never heard one so sincere.

  “Nettie and her kids, both females, are in a horse stall for now. In a few days, I’ll take them out to the pen.”

  Nettie was a beautiful animal of pale gray and white. She lay curled up in a soft bed of hay in the corner of a large stall while two spindly-legged little things wobbled about nearby. Courtney smiled at the sight of the two kids. One was pure white while the other was white with just a few small caramel-colored markings on her face and one large one on her side. They were delightful, with their knobby knees, fuzzy coats, and oversize ears. Though Nettie stayed resting, the two little ones immediately came stumbling forward, their curiosity overcoming any instinct for wariness.

  Courtney dropped to her knees in the hay as they approached. The white one took a tumble but hopped back to her feet to meet her sister at Courtney’s side. They both started licking her hands and tried climbing into her lap, bumping against each other in their excitement and all the while making fierce little noises that went straight to her heart.

  Courtney was in love.

  “Oh my goodness.” She laughed as she tried to give each little animal equal attention while they stumbled over each other to get closer. “What amazing little creatures. I had no idea goats could be so adorable.”

  She glanced up to where Dean stood leaning against the frame of the stall door. He gave a shrug in response to her comment, but she thought she saw the hint of a smile curving his lips. That hint was enough to create a wave of warmth within her.

  She turned her attention back toward the kids. The one with caramel-colored markings had apparently lost interest in her and started wandering around the stall, while the other one kept stumbling over Courtney’s lap as she sniffed at every fold in her skirt. It was not long before their mother gave a call and the two kids ran back to her side.

  Courtney shifted to push back to her feet only to find Dean already at her side, offering his hand.

  She looked up with a smile. The man had a few manners after all.

  She put her hand in his and allowed him to haul her up, ignoring the disappointment she felt when he released her as soon as he could.

  Leaving the goats behind, they walked down the center aisle of the barn.

  “Would it be a terrible interference in ranch business if I visit the goats every now and then?” Courtney asked.

  Dean slid her a narrow-eyed glance that told her he heard every bit of the intentional insolence in her tone. “The goats aren’t ranch business. They are one of Randall’s harebrained ideas that became my responsibility. Visit them whenever you want.”

  She grinned. “Thank you.”

  They had reached the spot where he’d left his horse hitched outside the barn. He took up the reins and started leading the animal inside. Courtney wasn’t sure if she should follow or if he expected her to head back to the house.

  She decided to do as she pleased, so she remained where she was, watching him walk the horse away, noting the way his denim pants formed to his legs and buttocks with his long, easy strides and the way his cotton shirt—a faded red today—shifted over the muscles of his shoulders. She became lost in the rhythm of his movement, so confident and casual. So unabashedly masculine.

  And so very different from the sedate, intentional way she’d been trained to move, with no excess exertion, no display of individuality, no hint of immodesty or emotion.

  He stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. Courtney did her best to conceal her thoughts behind an indifferent facade, but for a moment, it seemed as though he knew everything she was thinking and feeling.

  His expression tightened, his eyes narrowed, and the fan of crinkled lines formed at the corners.

  Courtney held her breath. She didn’t speak or look away, just waited for him to say whatever it was that had him turning back in the first place.

  After what felt like forever, he said, “You wanna learn how to ride?”

  “What? Horses?”

  Her blush deepened. Of course he meant horses. What else could he mean? He probably thought her an idiot. She felt like an idiot. The man truly had a way of scrambling her brain.

  She thought she saw a twitch to his lips as he gave a nod.

  Being able to ride horseback would open up an entirely new world of independence and freedom. She could not pass it up despite a lingering note of fear. “Yes, I would love to.”

  “Come on then,” he said, turning back to continue into the barn.

  “Now?”

  “I’ll give you your first lesson on tack.”

  Excitement trickled through Courtney’s limbs as she took another step forward in her new life of adventure. Though if she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t exactly sure if the excitement came from the idea of learning to ride or from getting to spend more time with the man who’d be teaching her.

  * * *

  Randall, Pilar, an
d Jimena joined them for dinner that night.

  Dean was relieved and annoyed at the same time.

  He was pretty sure that an intimate night alone with his wife was not a good idea. However, having three curious witnesses to the awkwardness of his unintentional marriage was not something he relished.

  After visiting the newborn kids, he’d spent nearly an hour with Courtney in the barn, explaining the horse tack as he removed it before going through the instruments of proper grooming. She’d sat straight-spined and attentive on a stack of baled hay through the entire lesson, asking questions now and then, but otherwise just listening and taking in everything he did with those striking eyes of hers.

  As soon as the lesson was over and she disappeared into the house, Dean struck out for the river. At its deepest, the water only reached his hips, but it was cold and effective for a man who needed to cool off in a hurry.

  The most frustrating thing—and there were multiple frustrating things about the current situation—was that he couldn’t even define what it was about her that got him so hot and bothered.

  Take this afternoon, for instance. All they’d done was visit the kids and talk about horse tack.

  Of course, there had been those moments when he’d had his hands on her body as he helped her down from his horse. He could still feel the way she’d fit against him, all soft, gentle curves and unexpected, barely banked fire.

  But that shouldn’t have been enough to get him into such a twisted state.

  The woman affected him like no other female he’d ever encountered.

  Even after several days away, the impact of her gaze and her ready smile had hit him like a bullet at close range, and his body couldn’t help but respond. Just like that.

  He had to figure out a way to control his reaction to her. Such a response served no purpose.

  In fact, it was damned frustrating.

  But now, surrounded by his extended family at the dinner table, a different kind of irritation took root as he watched the source of his discomfort talking and laughing so amiably with the others. In the days he’d been gone, she’d obviously developed a friendship with the other two women on the ranch. Pilar and Jimena seemed to genuinely like her, which fairly astounded Dean since he couldn’t imagine what they possibly had in common.

  And Randall, well…Randall was Randall. A consummate charmer with a boyish love of life that seemed to make anyone he came in contact with feel at ease. Dean used to envy his brother for his ability to fit into any social situation with nothing more than a grin and a fun-loving attitude. But then Dean realized that if they had both been such carefree rascals, the ranch might not have survived Augie’s death.

  “You gonna come down to the fire tomorrow night?”

  The question, voiced by Randall and directed toward Courtney, had Dean lifting his head as he realized he’d lost track of the conversation.

  “What fire?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

  Randall glanced at Dean, a frown lowering his brow. “My brother didn’t tell you?”

  Courtney also turned to look at him with a sharply arched eyebrow that seemed to say, Of course not. Your brother is a jackass who is determined to behave with only the worst of manners.

  Though it could have been just his conscience thinking that.

  “Most of the boys are riding in from the range tomorrow for their monthly dose of R & R,” Randall explained. “Whenever the bunkhouse is full, we have a bonfire out back. It gives everyone a chance to socialize and have a little fun.”

  “That sounds delightful.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Dean finally interjected, drawing all eyes to him.

  “Just because you never join the festivities doesn’t mean your bride ain’t allowed.”

  Dean tossed his brother a swift glare. “I never said she wasn’t allowed, but those things can get a little rowdy.”

  “I’ve attended a few of them myself,” Pilar replied. “I simply head home before things start to get wild.” She gave Courtney an encouraging smile. “I think you’d enjoy the party. Besides, it will give the men another woman to dance with, since I’m not very swift on my feet these days.”

  Dean’s opinion was apparently not going to count much on this topic, but he doubted a lady from Boston, who had likely attended some of the finest dinner parties and balls to be had, would find much enjoyment in a bonfire attended by a bunch of rowdy ranch hands.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dean spent the entire next day in his office, leaving Courtney to her own devices once again. Thankfully, both Jimena and Pilar arrived at the house that morning to start preparations for the feast that would be made up for the men that night. There was corn to grind, vegetables to roast, meat to smoke, pan dulce to bake, and tamales to roll. Jimena had started a traditional mole poblano the day before and continued nursing the large pot of sauce.

  Courtney was anxious to assist where she could, having already learned so much from Jimena in regard to cooking and appreciating the added benefit of being able to practice her Spanish. She had gotten to the point where she knew a great number of common verbs and nouns and a variety of descriptors. If she heard any words she still didn’t know, she usually understood enough to get the gist of what was being said. And she truly loved the hours she spent in the kitchen. She had never realized how much camaraderie and respect could be experienced by joining others in a common task. Of course, the good-natured teasing and gentle guidance helped, as did the endless bouts of laughter. She couldn’t even consider it work when it was so much fun.

  Just after midday, the men started riding in.

  At the sight of the first group, Jimena burst into a flurry of activity, issuing sharp orders to both Pilar and Courtney to get the food finished and prepped for serving down at the bunkhouse.

  “These men are going to be hungry and tired,” Jimena asserted in Spanish. “We must have a wealth of flavors to welcome them home.”

  “Mama believes everything can be made better with food,” Pilar whispered in an amused aside to Courtney.

  “That’s because it can,” her mother retorted from across the kitchen.

  Courtney laughed as she rushed to complete the task had Jimena assigned to her.

  * * *

  By the time the sun touched the western horizon, more than twenty men had come in from the range. Their horses had been tended to and settled in with mounds of fresh hay, healthy grains, and cool water, while the men themselves had been fed near to bursting. Laughter and conversation resounded from the bunkhouse loud enough to be heard from the front porch of the main house.

  Earlier, Courtney had brought a plate of food to Dean in his office. He had barely looked up from the paperwork and ledgers spread across his desk. Slightly annoyed by his lack of attention, and even more annoyed that it bothered her in the first place, she had decided not to go back to fetch his dishes. The man could carry them back to the house himself.

  The remnants of the day of cooking had all been cleaned up, and Jimena had returned to the house beyond the pasture for the night. The two younger women were taking a moment to relax in the fresh air. As the long fingers of fading sunlight stretched across the yard, Courtney stood at the porch railing and had to forcibly keep herself from glancing toward the barn, wondering when Dean might make an appearance.

  “Is it always like this when the men return?” she asked, hoping to distract herself.

  “The first night, yes,” Pilar replied from the rocker in the corner of the porch. “After tonight, some will settle down a bit while others will head into town for more entertainment. As much as they love being out on the range, coming home always feels a bit like a fiesta.”

  Courtney felt a stab of concern for her friend. Exhaustion was apparent in her deep breaths and her weary gaze. Though Pilar hadn’t uttered a single word of complaint, Courtney
had to suspect the woman’s very large belly had caused some significant strain through the day.

  Courtney was just about to suggest that Pilar go home to get some real rest when Randall came sauntering over from the bunkhouse and her friend’s face lit up at the sight of him.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he said with a warm smile as he leapt over the porch railing to land right in front of his wife. He crouched down and took her hands in his to lift them both to his lips. “How is my loveliest of blossoms feeling tonight?”

  “More like an overripe melon ready to burst on the vine than a flower,” Pilar retorted, causing Randall to chuckle.

  “Not much longer now, honey. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll have a little one to snuggle.”

  Courtney observed the interaction with a smile, appreciating the love and optimism shared by the couple.

  “And how has your day been, Mrs. Lawton?”

  Courtney recognized Randall’s teasing insistence on using her formal name exactly for what it was. The funny thing of it was that his determination to call her by a name she had never wanted managed to keep Courtney from taking the title too seriously. She credited Randall’s unique brand of boyish mischief for keeping the situation in proper perspective.

  Just because she was temporarily married to a man who barely seemed to tolerate her presence did not mean she had to pout or rail at the circumstances she had no immediate way out of.

  “Courtney has been working beside us in the kitchen all day.”

  Randall’s eyes widened as he rose to full height, though he remained standing at his wife’s side. “Is that so?”

  “Well, not all day,” Courtney clarified. “I did take an hour to visit Snowball and Sunshine.”

  Randall lifted an eyebrow toward Pilar. “Who?”

  “Nettie’s new kids,” Courtney replied. “It felt awkward continuing to call them the white one and the white one with spots, so I gave them names. I hope that’s all right.”