Cowboy's Cupid

by Niki Mitchell

  His dad’s jet-black demon stallion would take patience, but once broken, he’d make a spirited ride.

  Might as well head over there now.

  His day was planned, organized, under control.

  ~ ~ ~

  Cami began her day an hour later than usual. She expected to see Rhett drinking coffee on the front porch like he’d done for the past few mornings. His absence shouldn’t bother her, but it caused a void in her heart. Was her own misguided attraction for Rhett blocking him from finding love?

  How ridiculous. His human soulmate was out there somewhere. She pushed away the fluttering in her chest, determined to fix her mistake.

  Stepping into the kitchen, she strategized as she added several ingredients into a bowl and stirred cinnamon muffins. What should she do to solve her dilemma?

  She certainly wouldn’t allow herself to think about last night.

  The way his smile caused heartbumps all over.

  The way his masculine scent made her snuggle closer.

  The way his kiss heated her body.

  Michael came through the door and picked up a dishtowel off the counter and swatted her.

  “What’s up?” She stopped mixing the batter.

  “I saw you with Rhett last night.” His voice a bit strained as he set the towel on the counter. “You’re falling for my brother.”

  “No.” She wiped her palms on her apron.

  “If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself.” His brows lifted.

  “I like him as a friend.” Her foot tapped.

  “I’ve seen the way you gaze at him.” He leaned back in his chair. “Rhett’s my brother. I shouldn’t tell you this, but he’s not up to anything serious.”

  “Neither am I. Don’t make a big deal out of a night out dancing. You and Rhett are still my employers. I expect Rhett to continue yelling at me like he did the last time I burned toast.”

  “I’m not talking about him as a boss. He’s gruff but fair.” Michael let out a long breath. “With women, he’s not so great. He’ll end up hurting you like he did Lori. Like he’s done to others who are looking for something serious.”

  “I’m stronger than you think.”

  “I don’t doubt that. Date him. Just don’t get your hopes up.”

  “I won’t.” Falling for a mortal would rip her life apart.

  His phone buzzed. “Gotta run. Rhett and I will be at Dad’s all day.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “Don’t’ know what Rhett’s planning, but I’m seeing Violet after we’re done.”

  Cami smiled. Violet and Michael were growing closer.

  The rest of the day dragged. Doing laundry, she picked up the flannel shirt Rhett wore the last night and sniffed his spicy, masculine scent. No way was she falling for him.

  She slid a coffeecake into the oven, organized the pantry, rearranged the cabinets below the sink, vacuumed the living room twice, and made beef stew in a crock-pot. She glanced at her smartwatch communicator. Six p.m. Rhett’s not coming. After setting the crock-pot on low, she texted Rhett about dinner and walked home.

  Her communicator rang. Rhett’s icon flashed, and her heart jump-roped several turns as she swiped the green button. “If you’re wondering about dinner,” she spoke into the device.

  “The stew was delicious. Thanks.”

  “What do you really want?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” He hung up, leaving her more confused than ever.

  ~ ~ ~

  A few days later, Rhett sat at dinner next to Michael eating soup and charred bread.

  “She’s not working out,” Michael said.

  “What?”

  “Cami.”

  That got Rhett’s attention. “What do you mean?”

  “The tension between you two is driving me crazy and affecting her work. Either ask her out or fire her.” Michael shook his head.

  “Nothing’s going on.” He’d been cordial to her.

  “There lies the problem. You like her.”

  “I’m not ready for anything serious.”

  “Then don’t make it that way. Take her out to dinner or go out riding. I can’t take much more of your moping,” Michael threw down his napkin, went to his room, and slammed the door.

  Maybe he should ask her on a date. What would it hurt? The attraction was there, but that’s how it started with Peggy.

  Except Cami was nothing like her. He got up and entered the kitchen. She was washing dishes with earbuds on and her ponytail bouncing.

  “Hey,” he tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Wh-what?” She turned. “You need something, Rhett?”

  “Well, it’s more of a request. Would you like a riding lesson tomorrow?”

  “With who?” She tilted her head and gazed at him with her gorgeous blue eyes.

  “Me?”

  “Why?” She her arms folded.

  “Because you once said you’d like to go riding.”

  “I would.” The corners of her mouth lifted.

  “Then meet me outside the stables tomorrow at daybreak.” He walked away smiling.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rhett loved the solitude of early morning. He led his stallion and a mare out from the stable and tied the horses to a hitching post near the entrance.

  Footsteps announced Cami’s arrival, and he focused on her puffy pink coat. “Have I ever mentioned that jacket reminds me of the Michelin Man dipped in Pepto-Bismol?”

  “It does not?” She giggled. “Pepto-Bismol’s a darker pink.”

  “Always ready with a comeback, huh?”

  “Pretty much.” Her cheeks turned deep pink from the brisk morning. She stopped before the horse and looked into its eyes. “Hey, Buttercup, let’s be friends.”

  The mare stood still, her ears relaxed. Cami presented her hand, allowing the gentle animal to sniff before she scratched the horse between the ears.

  “Thought you didn’t know much about horses?” Greenhorns didn’t know to present their scent.

  “Had a pony, never a horse.”

  “I suppose you used an English saddle.”

  “Mostly rode bareback.” She gazed directly at him as if expecting him to challenge her.

  The word bare brought images of her riding naked, her long hair flowing and not braided. He snapped out of his fantasy and threaded his fingers together to boost her up. “Buttercup’s a tad bigger than a pony.”

  As she put her foot in a stirrup and swung her right leg over, her tight jeans clung to her butt. He stifled a moan.

  “Am I doing something wrong?” She smiled innocently.

  “Nope.” Shortening the length of her stirrups stirred him. He vaulted onto his saddle. “We’ll take it slow.”

  They ambled along the dry wash’s outer edge toward the hills. “Does this area ever fill with water?”

  “Only when there’s a bad storm.”

  “That happen often?”

  “Maybe once or twice a season.” The crisp air and Cami’s company invigorated his soul. To the north, cows lowed in the distance. An eagle swooped toward the brush and soared off with a mouse in its talons.

  “I’d hate to be that mouse.”

  “It’s the natural order of things,” he said. “Wanna go faster?”

  “You bet.” She kneed her mare and took off, her body attuned with the horse’s gait.

  He galloped to catch up to her, and they raced to the end of the wash. Strands of blonde hair escaped from her braid. He wouldn’t mind unraveling the rest and running his fingers through her hair.

  She slowed to a walk. “That was amazing.”

  “You sure are.”

  She blushed. “Where to?”

  “Up this trail.” He motioned to take the right fork.

  Their horses climbed an embankment. Leaf dappled sunlight shimmered through a cluster of tall trees. A pair of ground squirrels scampered underneath a thorny bramble. The trail twisted and turned and meandered alongsid
e the musky Cedar Springs River.

  “It’s awe-inspiring here,” she sighed.

  “My ancestors homesteaded this property. Couldn't imagine living anywhere else.”

  “You come to this spot often?”

  “Whenever I need to think.” Last night, he’d come here to ponder about Cami. “We may catch a raccoon dipping and rolling their food to wash their dinner or a goose preening himself on a flat rock close to the shore. We’ll stop at that big tree to the left.” He helped her down and tied the horses to a strong branch to graze.

  “Was that a flying fish?” She pointed toward the water.

  “Nope, probably a bass or carp.” He reached for his backpack and got a blanket from his saddlebag. “As a kid, I used to count how many fish jumped out of the water. Once I got up to twenty.”

  “I used to count dragonflies or try to. Usually, I got distracted and lost track.”

  “I can’t imagine you distracted.”

  She winced, and he had no idea why.

  Finally getting her to open up, he’d somehow blown it. “I mean that in a good way. You’re efficient. And you make the best muffins in the entire state.”

  “That’s sweet, crazy, but sweet.” Her lips were mighty tempting.

  Their boots crunched on gravel and twigs until they reached a grassy hill. They spread out a blanket together and sat several inches apart. From his backpack, he got out a box of Rice Krispies and a container of strawberries.

  “Cereal for breakfast?” She eyed him as he filled two bowls and added milk from a water bottle.

  “It’s easy.” He handed her a bowl and spoon.

  “So I can quit making bacon and eggs?”

  “No way, sugar.” He fought the temptation to sample the upturned corners of her mouth.

  “Look at the deer,” she whispered and pointed to a mother and her two fawns drinking from the river’s edge. “The fawns are precious.”

  He thought about saying they’d make delicious venison but nixed the idea and handed her a pink thermos from his backpack.

  She unscrewed the top and poured tea into the lid cup. “You brought me tea? You’re marvelous.”

  “What did you say?” He liked hearing admiration in her tone. Awareness zigzagged to his heart.

  “Nothing.”

  “Stick with marvelous, and you can count on a good raise.” The moment the words spilled out, he wanted to take them back.

  She sipped her tea.

  “What sports did you play growing up?”

  “Archery.”

  “Just archery?” As agile as she was on a horse, he imagined her doing the splits in gymnastics class.

  “Yes.” She tilted her head.

  “You any good?”

  “Fair.”

  “Like you were fair at darts?” Her precision throwing impressed him. He took the bowl from her hand, placed it on the ground, pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and cupped her face. Her eyes darkened, as he pressed his mouth to hers. A shiver of need rocketed through him.

  Her watch buzzed, and she pulled away. “Your brother’s asking about breakfast. We’d better head back.”

  He flashed a grin. “Tell him he’s on his own.”

  “I work for both of you.” She didn’t look at him as she packed the cereal and containers inside his backpack. He got the dishes.

  Together, they folded up the blanket.

  “Cami, what’s bothering you?”

  Her eyes teared. “There can be no us.”

  “Why the hell not? I feel a spark whenever you look at me.” He walked her to the horses and pondered her abrupt change. He hadn’t asked her out yet. He remembered the bow and arrows in the old barn. “You said you enjoy archery. Would you like to go shooting tomorrow?”

  “I don’t believe that’s a good idea.”

  He moved inches from her face and breathed in her honey essence. “Please say you’ll go.”

  “I’ll think about it.” At least, she hadn’t flat turned him down.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cami glanced up at the white cumulous clouds, unable to see Cupid’s Corner but knowing that was her home. Her lifestyle had been far different from this experience on Earth. On Earth, she could relax. She could make mistakes without worrying about the watchful community’s eye. She didn’t have to strive for perfection and tow the celestial line.

  Doubts about going home lingered. Rhett and his scorching kisses jabbed at her conscience. Kissing a mortal—forbidden. She told her inner voice to shush. With only a few weeks left on Earth, there was no way she’d find Rhett another soulmate. She’d go home a failure. Well, she might as well enjoy her time here while it lasted. A spotted dove cooed as if agreeing with her.

  Dressed in a sweater and Levis, she heard the gentle bubbling of the river as she walked to the house and went up the steps. Rhett waited in a wicker chair on the front porch. He tipped his Stetson and greeted her with an inviting grin. “Mornin’.”

  As usual, her pulse raced.

  “You making muffins?” He asked, reminding her of a kitten mewing for a saucer of milk.

  “We’ll see.”

  “That blue sweater brings out your turquoise eyes.”

  She giggled. “Think flattery will get you extra portions?” It had, she just wouldn’t tell him.

  “Can’t hurt to try.” He whistled as he strolled toward the stables.

  She focused on his derrière, and her insides quivered. She admired his broad shoulders. The man was hotter than a solar blast.

  In the kitchen, she mixed pancake batter, ladled circles onto a hot griddle, and let them cook. As the strips of bacon sizzled, she scrambled eggs in a bowl, poured the liquid into a cast iron pan, and checked on her pancakes. The first batch of pancakes burned. She threw them into the trash and made more. Her concentration was in chaos.

  Somehow, she managed to make breakfast.

  Thirty minutes later, she brought out Rhett and Michael’s food.

  “Smells delicious.” Rhett locked eyes with her.

  Jittery, she looked away and sensed him watching. She stole a glance at him but resisted the desire to run her fingers along his arm.

  “Sit with us, Cami.” Michael motioned to a chair on the end.

  She lowered herself into the seat.

  “You’ve more than proved yourself for over a month now,” Michael said.

  “We’d like to keep you on permanently,” Rhett tone crooned low and husky. “With a fifty dollar a week raise.”

  “Sounds great.” The job would be perfect if she were human. Her moral compass wanted to tell them she’d leave soon, but her head said to keep quiet.

  Michael jumped up. “Anyone else want milk?”

  “No thanks.” Rhett grasped her hand.

  The heated room and his sweltering glances made it hard to concentrate. Her lips were dry, her breath caught, she swallowed.

  “What do you think of our offer?” Rhett’s smile could tempt a saint.

  “It’s good.” If only she could stay.

  “We’d offer double that if we could.” He took her hand. “You’re incredible, you know.”

  Money had never been the issue.

  “Check out what I found.” He slid out a long leather case from under his seat and handed it to her.

  She placed the case across her lap and unzipped it. Four arrows secured with straps on one side and a bow on the other. Her heart expanded with happiness. She took out the bow and fingered the maple wood. “Exquisite. Is it handmade?”

  “I believe my grandfather used his wood-working skills.” His grin widened.

  She strung it and pulled. “It’s in perfect shape.”

  “You never gave me an answer yesterday. Would you like to go shooting?”

  “And if I say, yes?” She couldn’t help smiling.

  “Can’t promise I won’t kiss you again.”

  Her lips tingled at the thought.

  “You up for an official date?”
r />   “Sure.” She practically skipped toward the kitchen door.

  ~ ~ ~

  That afternoon, Rhett glanced sideways at Cami seated next to him in his truck. Turning the key, the truck sputtered. “Come on, baby.” His nerves jangled like the keys on the chain.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Old Red’s a being temperamental.” He tapped the gas pedal and jiggled the ignition. The engine chortled, grumbled, and vroomed. He accelerated forward onto the unpaved road.

  “Quite a ritual you’ve got there.”

  He couldn’t tell by her tone if she was impressed or appalled.

  “You said your grandfather gave you the truck. I don't recall meeting him.”

  “He passed away ’bout ten years ago.” His grandfather’s death left a void inside Rhett. “We were close. Granddad taught me to ride.”

  “I bet he’d be pleased you’re still driving his truck.” Her eyes shimmered.

  “Probably thinks I’m a fool for not borrowing Michael’s to take you out.”

  He took the fork to the right, drove for a couple of miles past the old barn, and parked in the dirt. After snagging the archery bag from behind the seat, he met up with Cami by the front bumper and took her hand. “The range’s this way.”

  They trekked to a field behind the barn. Earlier, right after breakfast, he’d stacked three bales of hay so the afternoon sunlight would be at their back. Empty beer bottles and a couple of tin cans lined the haystack’s top. He’d found a leftover poster from the barn dance in his room and decided to tack the paper to the front of the stacked bales.

  “You set this up for me?” Her eyes got soft and glittery.

  “Yep.” He wanted to impress her. “You’re up first.”

  “Are we making this a competition?”

  “Nope. Already know you’ll win.”

  Her turquoise eyes sparkled brighter.

  “Wanna try to nail the Cupid?” A solid black shape silhouetted against a red heart.

  “Got something against Cupids?” Her tone sounded tense, and he wondered why.

  “Not at all.” He had nothing against Cupids specifically. He despised Valentine’s Day and the whole lovey-dovey theme. “Best thing I could find on short notice.”

  “You don’t believe in things you can’t see?”