A Christmas Baby For The Cowboy (Cowboy Country Book 8)

Home > Other > A Christmas Baby For The Cowboy (Cowboy Country Book 8) > Page 2
A Christmas Baby For The Cowboy (Cowboy Country Book 8) Page 2

by Deb Kastner


  But first things first. She threaded her way to the front of the crowd and marched up onto the stage. This auction was supposed to be fun, and she’d been looking forward to it for weeks. Count on her to make a cheerful town event into something stressful instead of something sweet.

  Nice one, Alyssa.

  “Here’s your lariat, dear,” Jo said, pressing the rope into her hand. “Now, you go lasso your handsome cowboy.”

  Cash wiped the sweat from his brow, then planted his hat back on his head, challenging her with his gaze.

  Wonderful. He was intentionally making it more difficult for her to successfully swing a loop around him. She could adjust the lariat until it was big enough to go over Cash even with his hat on, but it wasn’t as if she was an expert roper. She owned a hardware store. If her toss was the slightest bit off, the coil would bounce right off his black Stetson.

  Was he throwing down the gauntlet? Did he think she wasn’t good enough for him?

  Tough bananas. She was the only one willing to rescue him today and he was just going to have to deal.

  Was he expecting all the pretty single ladies to treat him as if he was still hot stuff, falling all over him as they’d done when he was a teenager?

  Well, he wasn’t.

  Not anymore.

  He most definitely wasn’t a teenager. He’d filled out in all the right places. He’d grown a couple of inches taller. His shoulders were broader, his face a hard chisel of lines and his muscles more defined.

  But for all that, he wasn’t hot stuff anymore.

  Now that she was closer to him, she could see that his eyes were sunken into his head, with dark circles shadowing his gaze. His skin was roughened from the sun, which might have appeared rugged were it not for the stress lines on his forehead and etched around his eyes. The week’s worth of scruff on his face only increased the shadow.

  “Do something, Cash,” demanded a man in the crowd, a voice Alyssa couldn’t identify.

  Alyssa’s gaze switched to a short man in a gray suit and shiny black shoes. Everyone else in the crowd had on blue jeans.

  Alyssa looked back at Cash and raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Let’s get this over with, Lizzie.” Cash swept his hat off his head with a grunt and gestured for her to rope him.

  Alyssa adjusted the lariat and swung it in the air a couple of times to get a feel for the weight. She was a shopkeeper’s daughter and had zero ranching experience, but she was standing all of two feet away from Cash.

  How hard could it be?

  She swung the rope toward Cash, mimicking the actions she’d seen her brother Eddie and her neighboring rancher friends do a thousand times. But instead of soaring in a nice loop up and around Cash, the noose tightened too early and swung off to one side.

  It would have dropped to the ground, but at the last moment, Cash’s hand darted out to grab it. Her cheeks heated as Cash slowly and deliberately loosened the lariat and threaded himself through it until the noose circled his waist.

  Was he intentionally trying to embarrass her?

  Well, she wasn’t going to let him.

  She yanked the rope tight around Cash and turned her back on him, leading him off the platform, her fashionable cowboy boots thumping loudly down the stairs. She didn’t care when the rope became taut and he appeared to be pulling back, scuffling his feet behind her.

  Too bad for him that she was more stubborn than he was. If he was going to dig in his heels, she would just pull harder. He’d have to give in sometime.

  She was relieved when they were finally off the stage and could pause while Cash pulled the rope off from around himself, tossing it back to Jo for use with the next bachelor.

  Now, at least, they could find somewhere semiprivate to talk—not that there was anywhere on the community green, already spotted with dozens of brightly decorated picnic baskets, that could be considered truly private.

  She sighed deeply.

  “Follow me,” she said. “My picnic basket is over there, in the shade of that oak tree. I brought a lot of food. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Cash muttered something unintelligible, but he stayed by her side as she led him to the basket she’d prepared. Thankfully, she’d arrived early at the community green, wanting to complete a last-minute check, since her family’s store, Emerson’s Hardware, had provided all the materials to make the platform.

  It also allowed her to secure a prime spot on the lawn. The sun was shining brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so the shade would be welcome.

  Of course, she’d made her little banquet with a cute single bachelor in mind. Never mind that she knew every available guy in town and had either already dated him or wasn’t remotely interested in doing so.

  One of the woes of a single woman growing up in a small town. She longed for the special connection that was somehow missing in the few boyfriends she’d had over the years.

  Not that it really mattered. After everything that had happened recently, she had neither the time nor the energy to pursue a romantic relationship.

  It was all she could do to keep her head above water, between the hardware store renovation and struggling to keep the business afloat virtually on her own.

  Recently, she’d also begun to make all sorts of changes according to the contract she’d signed with Kickfire.

  Eddie had abandoned the shop for ranching. Her mother had walked out on the family for unknown reasons just after Aaron died. And her father had just plain given up on life.

  She sighed inwardly. Just as well she’d won Cash. No chance of a romantic entanglement there. He had the skills she needed—both in sheer muscle and in the knowledge of her store. She might never trust him to serve customers at the register as a clerk, but she had plenty for him to do even without handling money.

  Cash hesitated as Alyssa unfolded a red-checked wool picnic blanket and dropped onto it with her legs folded underneath her. Only then did he seat himself, leaning on his forearm and stretching out one long, jeans-clad leg. She tried not to notice the way his bicep bulged under his T-shirt, but she found it difficult to avert her eyes.

  She was a woman, after all. And once upon a time, she had been attracted to Cash.

  Silently, she unpacked the picnic basket, passing him a plate, utensils and a cloth napkin before revealing the meal she’d made.

  She’d cooked a turkey the day before and had prepared several sandwiches stacked high with all the fixings for them to feast on. She’d also wrapped the turkey legs as an extra treat. She’d made mashed potatoes and had topped them with a brown gravy. She’d prepared a cheesy broccoli casserole as a side and fudgy chocolate brownies for dessert.

  She was starving. Her mouth watered just looking at the delicious spread. It had been a long time since breakfast and her stomach growled in anticipation.

  Cash picked up a turkey leg. It was halfway to his mouth when Alyssa bowed her head to offer a short, silent prayer of thanksgiving to God, as she always did before a meal. When she opened her eyes, Cash had returned the turkey leg to his plate and was staring at her, his gaze, the vivid blue of the summer sky, wide with surprise.

  Guilt speared her gut. She hadn’t even asked if he wanted to pray with her, assuming, based on the rumors she’d heard, that he wouldn’t be interested in offering thanks to God.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. Where was her Christian charity? She should have at least asked if he wanted to share in the blessing.

  But it was too late now. She gestured for him to eat and he picked up the turkey leg he’d previously dropped to his plate. He took a healthy bite, then another.

  “Really good,” he said between mouthfuls.

  “Er—thank you,” she replied, not quite sure what to do with his compliment. The warmth in his gaze made her feel as if fire ants were swarming over her skin. This situation w
as beyond uncomfortable.

  And they hadn’t even begun talking about the results of the auction yet. How was she supposed to explain what she expected from him?

  They were eating in silence, which only made the situation worse. Could this be any more awkward? At least if they were talking she could try to lead the conversation toward her expectations.

  A movement to her right caught her eye and she turned to see the stranger in the gray suit approaching, followed by a laid-back-looking fellow in a white T-shirt and ratty blue jeans. He carried a high-end camera with a long lens and a boxy camera case slung around his shoulder.

  Without waiting for an invitation, the well-dressed man crouched next to the picnic blanket. He shifted his gaze from Cash to Alyssa.

  “So. Here’s the deal,” the man said, not bothering to introduce himself. “We’re looking at a six-month hiatus while we put together Cash’s publicity campaign. Our goal is to have him back in the saddle and the public’s good graces by the National Western Stock Show in Colorado in January. With that in mind, this charity auction thing is our first event.”

  The man paused for her to acknowledge what he was saying, but rather than nodding, she shook her head. Even when Aaron was in rodeo, she’d never been interested enough to follow his career, so she knew nothing about the stock show he’d mentioned.

  “You don’t know of it? Well, never mind. That’s not the point. Here’s what’s going to happen. Cash does whatever you have in mind for him to do, along with some carefully orchestrated acts of charity I’ll prepare. I’ll also line up some public appearances, so his fans can meet him. Something that emphasizes his hometown roots.”

  The man put an odd emphasis on “acts of charity,” as if the words didn’t mean what they were commonly meant to describe.

  “I’m sorry—and you are?” Alyssa didn’t like the way this man was looking at her—or talking about Cash, as if he was a piece of merchandise and not a man.

  “Martin. Martin Brandt. Cash’s agent and publicist,” Martin answered in a clipped tone.

  “I’m Alyssa Emerson.”

  He waved aside her introduction and continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “Our goal is to photograph Cash in the best possible light, capturing him working hard and doing good—for the sake of his new sponsors, of course.”

  Cash scoffed loudly, and Martin narrowed his deep-set eyes on him.

  “What new sponsors?” Cash growled.

  “Potential new sponsors, then,” Martin corrected. “You’ve burned a lot of bridges, but I still think with the right publicity campaign we can get you back on track. You were once at the top of your game. You do exactly what I tell you, and I see no reason for you not to recover from your fall from grace.”

  “I’m sorry—photograph?” It was a lot to take in all at once, but the first part of the stranger’s statement was what grabbed Alyssa’s attention.

  The guy with the camera just shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

  Alyssa had won Cash in the auction, paying her hard-earned money for his services—not the other way around. So why did she suddenly feel like they were expecting, no—demanding—all take and no give?

  This whole thing felt very much like they were ganging up on her, these three men, and she didn’t like it one bit. If they thought she’d be a pushover, they had better think again.

  “Yes. Photographs. By a photographer,” Martin repeated. “Pete Drexler here is from Rodeo Times, the top rodeo magazine in the world. He’ll be tailing Cash over the next few weeks and taking pictures we can use for good publicity. Which he desperately needs,” Martin added.

  Cash scoffed.

  “The benefit to you being three months of free labor,” Martin pressed. “More, if I think it’s necessary. I’m sure you’ll see it my way when you consider all the facts.”

  Oh, yes, indeed. She could see. The picture was becoming increasingly clear. She snorted under her breath, but there was nothing funny about this situation.

  She was being used. They intended to play upon her kindness to bring Cash back into the good graces of the rodeo world.

  Not to mention she was now in possession, so to speak, of a sullen cowboy who clearly didn’t want to be here in the first place. This was obviously not Cash’s idea. It didn’t take a genius to see Martin was twisting his arm, forcing him to do something he would rather have rejected.

  It didn’t matter what Martin said. This was never going to work.

  Between keeping the store running, taking care of her ailing father and committing to a renovation that she now realized might be perfect on paper but in execution was going to be more complicated than she’d imagined, she was already in way over her head.

  The last thing she needed was to worry about a photographer getting in the way all the time. The guy would be blocking the merchandise. Customers who might come into the store to browse wouldn’t want Pete standing in their way.

  She was worried that the mess and chaos of renovating the store for Kickfire was already causing her customers to look elsewhere for their hardware, outdoors and clothing needs. With most of the work still ahead of her, she couldn’t afford to lose even a single sale, which might very well happen. Even if the townsfolk dared to brave the maze of new displays and boxes of stock around the store, she was certain they wouldn’t want to be caught on camera for all the world to see.

  They lived in a small town for a reason.

  And she didn’t even want to get started on Cash using charity for his own purposes.

  Alyssa pressed her lips together into a tight line and narrowed her eyes on Martin before sliding her gaze to Cash, whose stony expression revealed nothing.

  “I see,” she said in a dry monotone. “But I’m going to have to decline.”

  Chapter Two

  There was a big difference between humility and downright humiliation. Cash had known he was going to have to eat a lot of dirt when he came back to Serendipity, but Alyssa’s words felt more like she was burying him in it, ten feet down.

  He still wished he could walk away, but beggars didn’t get to be choosers.

  Rodeo was his life, and bareback riding was the only skill in which he truly excelled. Up until Aaron’s death, he lived for the adrenaline that came along with the feel of a horse’s muscles as it tried to fling him from its back. He reveled in the sound of the roaring crowd and the glare of the spotlights.

  And yeah, he still wanted to be there. He wasn’t quite ready to put his buckles on the shelf and succumb to the quiet life of a wrangler, which was the only job he would be qualified to do once his rodeo career ended.

  Maybe someday he’d settle down, but not just yet.

  Alyssa had bid on him and won him at this auction, and he wouldn’t quickly forget hers was the only bid he’d had. He was obligated to assist her on whatever project she had in mind for him.

  Because that was the promise he’d made by stepping onto the platform in the first place.

  His word was one of the few things he had left, and he intended to honor it. Whatever she expected of him, he would do, if not willingly, then at least not grudgingly.

  This was more of an opportunity than he deserved. This situation wasn’t easy for a man who led with his ego, more often than not. The least she could do was agree to give him a little boost up in the process.

  He was about to say something to that effect when Martin jumped in.

  “What did you just say?” Martin snapped. “You’re going to decline?”

  Cash’s agent was used to getting his own way, which was what made him so good at his job. Martin didn’t take no for an answer. But he got the job done, and that was the bottom line.

  “Was I not clear?” Alyssa countered.

  Cash was impressed by her backbone. Not too many people dared take on Martin.

  “I’
m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a photographer lurking around my store right now. It would be bad for business.”

  Her gaze switched to Cash in silent appeal.

  “Cash, help me convince your agent that we’re not a good fit. It’ll be in both of our best interests for you to work with someone else on your publicity scheme. I inadvertently put you in this awkward position by bidding on you, so I’ll help you find someone else who will be more eager to work with you.”

  He shook his head. “There is no one else. Maybe you didn’t notice back there.” He gestured toward the stage, where the auction continued. Men were hooting, and women were cheering over whichever poor clod was out on display now. “People weren’t exactly champing at the bit to pick me up at the auction.”

  She brushed a hand back through her hair and blew at a strand she missed. It floated upward and then down again, right into her eyes.

  “Does that really surprise you? Rumors about your behavior on the rodeo circuit have been milling around here for months. The town does love gossip, you know.”

  He shifted his eyes away from her. “I figured as much. And you’re right. I didn’t expect any better.”

  “Martin? Can you give me some time alone with Cash?” Alyssa asked in a soft yet firm voice. It was a question, but not really a question. Not the way Alyssa delivered it.

  Martin didn’t look as if he was in any big hurry to capitulate to Alyssa, but when Alyssa shifted her gaze to him and narrowed her eyes on him, he reluctantly got to his feet and shrugged.

  “Cash, I’m trusting you to convince her that this is in her best interest.”

  Anger flared in Cash’s chest, mostly directed at himself and the circumstances he’d landed himself in.

  How, exactly, was he supposed to convince Alyssa of anything?

  He’d managed to royally screw up his life, and as a public figure, it wasn’t surprising that his hometown neighbors knew what a mess he’d made.

  Neither was he astonished they’d judged him for it.

 

‹ Prev