Read To Court a Cowgirl Online

Authors: Jeannie Watt

To Court a Cowgirl (20 page)

“No regrets. Got it.”

Jason gave him a stern look then raised his hand at his uncle. “I gotta run, Jim. I'll see you soon.”

“Bye, Jason.”

Jim gave him a wave and then gestured for Kyle to follow him into the office. Jason got into his truck and started the engine. Hopefully this was one problem solved. All it had cost him was Kyle's first two months pay and a smiling photograph of himself in his jersey that Jimmy planned to use as part of his new pull-'em-in-off-the-streets campaign. Jimmy wasn't as happy as he would have been had Jason come to work full-time, but he was satisfied. And hopefully this would keep Kyle busy until Allie left the Lightning Creek.

* * *

A
LLIE
HAD
DINNER
almost finished when Jason showed up at her door. He walked in and kissed her lips, then asked, “Spaghetti?”

“And meatballs. Garlic bread. Salad.”

“Great last meal,” he said on a dry note.

“Worried about your interview?” Stating the obvious after his first experience with the phone interview, but Allie wondered if he needed to talk.

“A little,” Jason said in a voice that made it clear he was grossly understating the matter.

Allie poured two glasses of red wine. “You'll do well. You have charisma.”

“I think they want experience.”

“And you've come up with ways to make up for lack of experience. Right?” She handed him a glass as she spoke.

“Yeah. Coach and I have been communicating, coming up with ideas. We'll see if they work, I guess.” He pulled in a breath that made his shoulders rise and then fall. “I saw Kyle today.”

Allie stiffened as her gaze flashed up. “You did?”

“Sought him out, actually.” He set his wine down on the counter, untouched. “Found him gainful employment.”

“You what?”

“Got him a job with Uncle Jim. He's going to detail cars and work his way into a sales position.”

Allie let out a sputtering breath and set her own wine down. “He'll never last.”

“He'll last until he gets those bills paid. We, uh, had a talk.”

Allie wasn't going to ask about the talk. “I don't like this, Jason.”

He seemed genuinely surprised. “Why?”

She exhaled and said, “This is a matter for me and Kyle to work through.”

“You and Kyle and the sheriff from the sounds of things.”

“I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need a white knight.”

His expression clouded. “Couldn't you just say thank you, Allie?”

She pushed the hair back from her forehead in a distracted gesture, then let it fall again. “I could, yes. But...”

He settled his hands on her shoulders. “I didn't want him bothering you while I was gone.”

“If you get this job, you're going to be gone permanently.” Her mouth quirked. “Except for the long weekends you promised your dad,” she muttered.

“Allie, look at me.”

She did. Big mistake. His expression was so damned sincere as he stared down at her. “Don't say you did this for me when you did it for you.”

“I did it for you and I think you're secretly glad, but you freak if you think anyone is taking control of any part of your life.”

“I'm not freaking.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders. “And I'm not taking control.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Next time ask me, okay?”

He dropped his hands and looked past her for a moment. When he looked back, he said, “Right. You're right.”

Allie stood stiffly for another few seconds, then took a step forward and slowly wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her cheek come to rest against his solid chest. “This is a good solution, Jason. Thank you. But next time, keep me in the loop.”

Because the one thing she couldn't handle was to have someone directing her life without her input. She'd put up with that for way too long, and she wasn't going there again.

Jason's arms closed around her. “I have a big learning curve with you.”

She nodded against his shirt. “It's not that hard. Before you throw money at a situation to make it go away, check with me first.”

“Throw money?” She leaned back and met his gaze, saw the conflict there, the urge to argue with her, and then he gave a small nod. “I guess you're right.”

“Yeah,” she said simply. “I am.” And what she wouldn't give to be able to throw money at a situation and make it go away—however, she wanted to decide how she was throwing that money and what her expected outcome would be.

He stroked a hand over her hair, then put her away from him and looked down at her. “I don't want to argue tonight.”

“Arguing would be a bad way to spend this night,” Allie agreed. A very bad way. Especially when she had no idea how many more nights she was going to have with this man. She rose up on her toes and met his lips. “So let's consider the matter settled.”

* * *

T
HE
MATTER
MIGHT
have been settled, but as Jason sat in the small Bozeman airport, waiting for his flight to San Diego, he kept thinking about Allie's allegation that he threw money at problems to make them go away.

Not totally true, because if so, he would have hired a full-time caretaker for his dad long ago.

But it was a little bit true—okay, a lot true—and the realization bothered him. He had money, why not use it to fix problems?

He put aside the newspaper he'd been reading.

Good question. Maybe because that made it easier to dodge the problem than deal with it?

Well, how the hell was he supposed to have dealt with Kyle and get him off Allie's back? Rehabilitation? He snorted at the thought and the older lady sitting across from him looked up, then did a double take.

“Are you Dolph Lundgren?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Dolph who?”

She gave her head a shake. “Sorry. You're too young.” She smiled and went back to reading her phone.

Jason looked up Dolph on his phone and decided to feel complimented, then he turned his thoughts back to Allie.

If he had run his get-Kyle-a-job plan past Allie, she would have balked. But she was right—he couldn't say he'd only done it for her, when he felt so much better after getting the guy out of her hair.

Life with Allie was complicated and he sensed it was about to get more so.

His flight was called and Jason followed the lady who'd mistaken him for Dolph to the boarding line. She looked over her shoulder at him and then made an O with her lips.

“You catch pizzas.”

Jason gave the woman a weary smile. “Yes. I catch pizzas.”

One of his many talents, but probably not one that would get him this job.

* * *

S
HORTLY
AFTER
ARRIVING
at his hotel, and before he'd had time to open his suitcase, Jason got a call from his former coach, who was waiting downstairs in the bar for their planning session. They'd emailed back and forth over the past week, but Jason not only wanted to buy dinner for the guy who'd guided his college football career, he wanted face time.

He wanted to talk about Pat.

“Pat is in a place only he can get himself out of,” Coach said when Jason brought up the subject before they started their strategy session. “You can't do that for him.”

“I think if he would let me talk to him, that maybe we could at least get to a point where he'd call me when he needed to. Or I could call him.” As he used to do.

The coach speared the loose olive at the bottom of his glass. “I don't think so. He's bitter and he's jealous.”

Jason massaged his forehead. He wasn't ready to let go. Pat had helped him so damned much. Yes, he'd gone seriously off the rails during his first year of retirement, but that was what frustrated Jason. He was in a position to be there for his friend, who didn't want anyone there.

“He's not the same guy who helped you with your career.”

“And my personal problems.”

“Not the same guy.”

“Then maybe I can get to know the new guy.”

“You won't like him.”

“We were friends for ten years.” The coach had only known Pat for four. They'd been intense years, but still, less than half of Jason's time with the man.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want you to take me to his place.”

“And what? Join you in an intervention?”

That had been one of Jason's ideas, but it seemed too much like ganging up on the guy. “Or maybe wait in the car?”

“I'll give you his address,” Coach finally said. “But you're on your own. Pat wants to stew in his misery, and experience tells me that no one can change a person in that frame of mind.” Coach popped the olive into his mouth and chewed before downing the last of his drink. “Right now, we need to focus on other things.” He met Jason's gaze. “You belong on that coaching staff, so you need to get this job to work into it.”

Jason wanted to be on that staff...he wanted Pat there, too. Like old times. The two of them working together. His mouth twisted sardonically. When had he become such a fairy-tale kind of guy?

Allie would have said it was because he'd led a fairy-tale life.

“I've been meaning to ask...have you done any volunteer work with the local football programs or anything? That would be a plus.”

Jason shook his head. “I spent my free time on the ranch after my dad got back on his feet.”

Coach gave his head a bemused shake. “I know your family is in Montana, but I never thought there were cows involved. My uncle had a dairy. Smelly business.”

“It's not a family ranch,” Jason explained. “It belongs to a friend.” A woman who was now so deeply under his skin that he was having a hard imagining life without her. “She needed help demolishing a barn and I had free time, so I helped her out.” He tapped the sides of his glass with his fingers. “One thing led to another and I eventually learned a lot about the operation, although they assured me I'd only been exposed to the tip of the ranching iceberg.”

“Did you like it? I never saw you as an animal kind of guy.”

“I spent more time spraying weeds than tending to animals...” Although he'd seen them both into the world and out of it. “But I did help with the calving to a certain extent. There was a lot to do. A lot to learn. It was kind of cool not knowing what was going to happen day to day, what with the weather and the animals.” And Allie.

“Huh. So tell me—did the place stink?”

Jason choked on his drink. “No. It smelled pretty good.”

“Dairies stink. Silage, I think.”

“I'll avoid them.”

Coach narrowed his eyes at Jason. “What do you see yourself doing in five years, Jason?”

Another practice interview question, one they'd covered previously. But it took Jason a split second too long to answer. “Coaching Brandt football.”

The coach's gaze remained both narrowed and thoughtful. “Amen to that.”

Jason took a slow sip of his drink. The coach wanted him at Brandt and until that very moment, Jason had been utterly convinced that he wanted to work there, too. Why this crazy moment of doubt? Because they'd been talking about the ranch, which in turn made him think of Allie. He'd finally broken through, and now that he had gained her trust, he wanted more time with her. A lot more time.

It could be done. One hurdle at a time.

“Whatever you do—” the coach's voice jerked Jason back to the present “—do not see Pat before the interview. You don't want to go in all pissed off.”

“I agree.”

Coach pulled out his phone and flipped through his contacts, then held the phone out for Jason to see. “This is where he lives now. He moved a few weeks ago. His sister is living with him now.”

Jason keyed the address into his phone.

“I'm glad to hear he's not by himself.”

“He's alone,” Coach said abruptly, making Jason wonder if he really were wasting his time. Regardless, he had to give it a shot. Coach signaled the server for another round and Jason figured what the hell. He didn't actually interview until the next day and alcohol would help him sleep.

After the drinks arrived, Coach pulled a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, placing it on the table between them. “This is the lineup,” he said. Jason leaned closer to read the list of six names.

“Now Laurel's going to be your biggest hurdle. He's all about hard-line experience. However, he has a weak spot...”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

W
HEN
J
ASON
WALKED
under the stone arch at the entrance of the Brandt campus, he felt as if he were walking into the locker room before a playoff game. Mentally, he was ready. Beyond ready. The coach had lined him out, helped him plot strategy. He knew how to address Laurel's concerns and those of the other committee members. He knew who was most likely to favor him and who he needed to be on guard against.

He'd shoved all thoughts of his dad, Pat and Allie out of his head as he walked into the athletic department offices. He was here to win and that meant focusing on the goal.

“Mr. Hudson.” A tall woman with short dark hair came out from behind her desk and offered her hand. “Amanda Morehouse.”

“I recognize your voice,” Jason said.

“Excellent.” She smiled and waved him to a seat. “It'll be just a minute or two and they'll be ready for you. We have one committee member on video conference and the rest are here in person.”

“Any advice?” he asked, more for something to say than anything.

Amanda thought for a moment, then said, “Your strength is in your offense.”

It always had been. Jason smiled. “Thank you.”

A moment later the doors to the inner sanctum opened and Amanda motioned for him to go inside.

Jason's two-hour interview lasted only an hour, but not because he'd done poorly. Thanks to the coach and his own late night online research, he was well prepared to answer all questions, counter all objections to his lack of training and make suggestions on improving the efficiency of the job he was applying for. His college GPA didn't hurt, either. He'd managed to be a student and an all-star, which spoke to his ability to multitask and tackle new challenges.

He'd even managed to work his volunteer ranch experience into the conversation, using it as an example of his adaptability. He didn't know how effective that was, but every little bit helped when a guy had no work history, and, strange as it was, the ranch was his first job experience ever. Before that, training and practice had filled his time from junior high through college. When other kids had been working at McDonald's, he'd been lifting weights or running. So his privilege paid off in some ways and hampered him in others.

Just another hurdle to cross.

“As I see it, Mr. Hudson,” Dr. Laurel had said just before the interview ended, “as a former professional ball player, you're used to doors opening easily.” He let the words hang between them, watching Jason closely. Jason had no idea what response the guy expected, but after dealing with Allie, this attitude was nothing shocking or new.

“Those days are long gone,” Jason said. “I have to make up for lost time in the professional world and right now I'm working hard to do that. I have no qualms about starting low and working my way up.”

A couple of the committee members exchanged glances, then Dr. Laurel thanked him for his time and handshakes ensued.

A moment later, Amanda told him that he'd hear from them in a matter of days and said goodbye. Once the office door closed behind him, Jason drew in a deep breath and then checked his watch. A little too early to call Allie, so he'd head back to his hotel and prepare for his last obstacle before heading home the next day—ambushing Pat and trying to talk sense into him.

* * *

E
VEN
WITH
Z
ACH
on the ranch, happily managing everything that he could find to manage, the place felt empty. Allie missed Jason. A lot. But she was not going to panic because she missed the guy. He was her first lover in years and he'd been a daily fixture on the ranch for the past couple of months. Of course, the place seemed empty without him.

She planted more of the garden while he was gone, changing up the rows from the way she'd always had them before. Corn was no longer on the north side of the garden and beans were no longer on the south. Small changes, unimportant changes, but changes all the same. Allie needed to become more comfortable with change, and that was her frame of mind when she called her mother in Florida late Tuesday afternoon.

“Is all well on the ranch?”

“The ranch is fine.”

“I guess I meant are you doing well on the ranch?”

“Better than when I lived here before,” Allie said. “A lot better.”

“Good to hear.”

Her mother was well aware of Allie's feelings about her childhood home, and Allie had long suspected her mother's feelings mirrored her own. It wasn't as if Anne Brody Reyes had had a great time there, losing her husband and barely hanging on through the rough times that followed.

“Mom, I'm not going to pursue teaching.” There. It was out.

“What?”

“At least not unless I can find a secondary art position and right now that seems nigh impossible.”

“But...you got your elementary degree so that you could work in education.”

“I'm painting again.”

“Lovely, but—”

“I think I'll be happier if I work at a job that requires less of a personal commitment and pursue my art career on the side. At least until I hit a point where I might be able to pursue it full-time.”

A long silence ensued and Allie found herself squirming. “It isn't like my education degree will go bad. It's just... I'm not an elementary teacher. Maybe secondary, but not elementary. And now, while I have no commitments, seems like a perfect time to pursue a reckless venture.”

Yes. She was going to take a risk—just as soon as she got a steady job.

“Well...I guess. I mean, it isn't like you're running off to join a cult or something.”

Allie gave a small laugh. “I'm feeling good about this decision.”

“In that case, I wish you well.”

And was probably going to wait and see if Allie came to her senses rather than waste her breath right now. Allie knew her mom well because they were very, very similar.

After ending the call, she poured a glass of wine and had just taken the cover off her palette when the phone rang again. She knew without looking that it was Jason.

“How'd the interview go?” she asked as soon as she heard his voice.

“I think I have a shot.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “How are you doing?”

“Everything's the same as when you left.” Two whole days ago.

“Kyle?”

“Haven't seen him. How's San Diego?”

“It feels like a different planet here. A different world.”

“One you like, I hope.”

“Oh, yeah. I like it. It's just...different.”

“Well, you know what they say about going home.”

“I think Montana is home.”

“No. You only lived here for two years before taking off for college. You're a California boy.”

“You're a snob, Allie.”

“Guilty,” she said with a smile. “And now you can tell me what's bothering you.”

There was a brief silence, as if he were going to deny that there was a reason for his flat tone of voice. “I'm going to see Pat tomorrow before I catch my plane home.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Yeah. Coach told me not to go.”

“Then why are you?”

“He's dealing with stuff, Allie.”

“Jealousy?” She knew all about that.

“Among other things.”

Allie tamped down her frustration. Jason had to handle the matter in his own way, but having dealt with a bitter person, namely Kyle, she had little patience. Even if said bitter person was in a wheelchair.

“I'm with Coach on this one, but if you must go, don't let him guilt-trip you.”

Because even though Jason was about as centered as anyone she knew, from their brief discussions on the subject, she knew that this Pat character was his weak spot. And Jason was a rescuer.

“I'm just going to open the door to future conversations.”

“Great. But if he gets difficult, you might just give him that speech about heads and asses.”

“Thanks, Allie. I'll keep that advice in mind.”

* * *

P
AT
'
S
GROUND
-
LEVEL
APARTMENT
was part of a well-manicured cul-de-sac neighborhood. Jason parked in front of the building and double-checked the apartment number before ringing the buzzer. A moment later the door swung open and Delia Madison frowned at him. Then she smiled. “Jason.”

He gave Pat's sister a quick hug. “How are you?” Delia had also attended Brandt and they'd spent a lot of time together back in the day.

“Doing okay. You must be here to see Pat? He didn't say anything to me.”

“Because he doesn't know.”

Delia's smile faltered. “Out back,” she said, waving toward the patio doors leading out into a private garden. It was a nice place, but nothing like the mansion Pat had once owned.

“Hey,” Jason said as he slid the door open.

Pat's head jerked around and then he scowled. “What the hell?”

“Yeah. Good to see you, too.”

Pat's mouth clamped shut and Jason felt like telling him to stop being so fricking proud, but he didn't. Instead he said, “I interviewed at Brandt.”

“Thought that wasn't going to happen.”

“A guy dropped out.”

Jason sat in a white wrought-iron chair next to Pat's wheelchair. A towel was draped loosely over Pat's lap, but Jason could still see how atrophied his friend's once powerful legs had become.

“If I got the job at Brandt, and can arrange it, would you consider doing an internship there?” One of the perks of the job, or maybe it was one of the duties, was that Jason would select and train interns to help the coaching and administrative staff.

“Little premature, isn't it?”

“I said
if
, and since you don't answer my calls or texts, I figured I'd see you face-to-face before flying home.”

Pat looked very much like he wanted to tell him to go to hell, but he didn't. Instead he shook his head. “Go there and have people looking at me? Saying there's the guy who couldn't handle real life? I don't think so.”

Jason sucked in a breath. “When I had difficulties with my head on the field, when I was missing my catches, you helped me straighten things out.”

Pat gave a small shrug.

“When I was drawing into myself because, for the first time ever, I wasn't the best, you told me to get a grip and stop feeling sorry for myself.”

Pat's eyes widened angrily. “I know where this is going and don't you dare.”

“I'm daring. This is your life. You made it. Now do something with it and stop hiding.”

“It's none of your business what I do.”

“Yeah, it is. Because I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. We're even.”

Jason stood and walked over the chair, then crouched down so they were at eye level. “I am not the enemy, Pat. I think we both know who the enemy is. When you want to face reality, give me a call.”

He stood then and headed for the door to the house, which was cracked open. Delia was just inside, openly eavesdropping. She slid the glass open and after Jason walked into the air-conditioned room, she shut it behind him.

“Good try,” she said. “Coach tried, too.” Her jaw tightened briefly before she said, “
I'll
try to knock sense into him, but no promises.”

“Yeah.” Jason smiled grimly, then lightly kissed Delia's cheek. “You're a good sister, Del. Call me if you need anything.”

* * *

A
LLIE
WAS
ON
her knees in the garden when Jason's truck pulled into the drive, shooting to hell her plan of looking great when he showed. It wasn't as if he'd never seen her dusty and disheveled before.

He parked the truck and came to meet her at the garden, taking her into his arms and kissing her long and hard.

“Any new calves?” he asked.

Allie laughed. “One. Now we're done for the season.” She smoothed a hand over his face, then kissed him again.

Jason tilted his head toward the garden. “Looks good.”

“Yes. Better than it looked the last time I planted it, but I didn't properly care for it then.” One corner of her mouth quirked. “I was fighting to survive.” She turned back toward him. “When will you hear?”

“A matter of days.”

“Did you talk to Pat?” His expression clouded over, giving her the answer. “That bad?”

“He has issues.”

Which were hurting Jason and she hated seeing that. They started for the house with Jason's arm still loosely slung over her shoulders. “Is Zach around?”

“He's at that class he was ordered to take. Liz's dropping him by later tonight. Have you been home yet?”

Jason stopped on the porch and took her face in his hands, leaning down to first kiss her, then lightly nip her lower lip, sending a stab of need slicing through her. “I thought I'd stop here first. Say hello.”

“Yes,” Allie said as she gently nipped him back. “Hello is definitely in order.”

* * *

J
ASON
SHOWED
UP
for work early the next day and life on the Lightning Creek continued as it had before he'd left for the interview. Zach lined him out and Allie went to school and Jason realized as he strode out into the field that if he couldn't eventually coach football, he'd be quite comfortable working on a ranch. Not just owning one, but working on one.

Of course, he'd have to have a manager to tell him what to do, because he didn't have a clue. But the actual work—he loved it.

And he was beginning to suspect he loved Allie, too. What had started as an attraction and a challenge had grown to feel like a partnership and...something more. That something more, he suspected, was love, plain and simple. Which made him glad that she didn't want to stay on the Lightning Creek, because that made it all the more possible that she might go with him if he got the job. Together they could test the waters. She was at the perfect point in her life to do that.

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