Her Rodeo Cowboy (5 page)

“Y
ou look like you're moving slow today,” Sam said the next morning when Montana limped into the diner. The scent of Sam's mouthwatering breakfast lingered in the air of the rustic diner.

“Yeah,” Applegate grunted from the jukebox in the corner. “What happened to you? Get thrown from yor horse?” He grinned and stabbed the music selection he wanted with his boney finger.

“Has somebody been in here talking?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nope,” Sam denied. “We didn't need anyone to tell us anything. With you riding like you are and limping like that, too, it ain't rocket science.”

“Yup, it shor ain't.” App walked to his table and sat down.

“Where's Stanley?” Montana asked. The vacant chair at App's table looked odd.

“He's got the bazooties, ain't nothing more than a bad cold, but he decided he'd better hole up in his house and let it run its course.”

“I'm sorry about that.” She liked Stanley. Applegate and he might be nosey, but they'd always been sweet to her.

“Me, too. Leaves me without a playin' partner.”

Montana held back a chuckle at his sour-faced frown.

“How are you at checkers?” he asked, brightening like a lightbulb at his idea.

“I thought you'd never ask,” she grinned, unable to resist plopping down across from him. “Pass me some sunflower seeds, please.”

“Really?” His jaw dropped.

She held her hand out. “Oh, yeah, I'm sure. I've been wanting to do this ever since I got to town.”

A huge smile lit up across App's face. He handed her the five-pound bag of sunflower seeds and she dug out a small handful. “Is this enough?”

“Might be a few too many. You'll look like a chipmunk if you put too many in.”

“I'd watch out if I was you,” Sam warned, from the table near the back where a booth full of cowboys were chomping down on breakfast like it was their last meal.

“I'm not afraid of Applegate,” she huffed, and tossed the sunflower seeds into her mouth.

He hiked a bushy brow. “You shor about that?”

She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Oh, I'm
shor,
all right,” she warned. “Show me what you got, dude.” This was going to be fun.

She and App studied the board.

“You go first.” He squinted at her from across the table, like a gunfighter gauging his opponent. He looked to Montana like he had an itchy trigger finger.
Holding her in his sights, he leaned out then one, two, three—he fired several sunflower shells at the spittoon on the floor next to the table.

Feeling like the shells were growing in her mouth she leaned forward and took aim then fired away. Sadly, her shells spurted out kind of sickly like, missing their mark and hitting the floor in silence. Laid there with no glory. It was embarrassing, really.

App hitched a caterpillar eyebrow. “I hope ya play checkers better'n ya spit.”

She pushed the shells still in her mouth to the side so she could speak. “I'm going to try. It's been a while, but it's probably like riding a horse.”

“Ya think?”

“I think.” She winked at the older man, then made the first move. “Game on,” she said. It had been a long time since she'd played checkers. Chess had been more her dad's speed. “More of a thinking-man's game,” he'd been fond of saying, and had challenged her often. She'd been bored with the game, but she was glad to play it with him. Getting close to her dad had never been easy. Some kids played catch with their dad. She played chess. Not that she'd been very good at it, but she'd tried. She'd always wished they could have gone horseback riding together. The fact that he'd gotten her a horse when she was twelve had been a total surprise. Thinking back on it now, it was also about the time he'd begun to spend more time at the office.

“You gonna move that checker or jest stare it ta death?”

“Oh,” she gasped, nearly choking on a shell. She'd zoned out for a minute. “Hold your horses, I'm jump
ing.” She took a jump, and he immediately jumped two of hers.

“You ain't too smart at this here game, are ya?”

Sam shook his head across the room. “I warned ya not ta get involved with ole App thar. He ain't too good of a sport.”

The door opened and she glanced over her shoulder. Instantly, she froze. Luke strode inside and his gaze locked onto hers like a missile onto a target. His eyes flicked from her to the room, then back to her.

“Hey thar, Luke,” App bellowed. “Get on over here and help a poor old fellow out.”

“Whoa, no outside help,” Montana growled, staring at the checkerboard, then making her move. She could feel Luke standing there, looking over her shoulder.

“Looks like he's not the one who needs help,” he drawled.

She twisted her head and scowled up into his cocoa-colored eyes. He blinked innocently and smiled.

“Don't look at me like that. I'm only sayin' that was a lousy move you just made.”

“Well, don't be sayin' then. I'll make my own moves and suffer or celebrate on my own.” She spat a sunflower seed at the spittoon, and it hit the edge before landing on his boot. Perfect shot.

The look on his face was priceless. She grinned at him.

“Cute. Real cute.” He slid across the floor to stand beside App. “I think I'll watch you suffer from over here.”

She wasn't planning on losing, but App made his jump, and after she made her next move, the sly man
wiped
her out! Talk about feeling foolish…it was piti
ful. After that, the game was short and not so sweet. It was humiliating. Chess was more complicated, and yet she'd lost to App like a schoolgirl who'd never played a game of chess or checkers.

Eyeing her, App chucked a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth and grinned, showing teeth all the way back to his molars. “That was like taking candy from a baby.”

Luke chuckled. “Those very well could be fighting words, App. Montana doesn't take losing very well.”

Sam had stopped by to watch the last play, and now he snorted. “App don't, either. Stanley usually whups him good.”

“He does not,” App grumbled.

Sam hooted with laughter. “You can deny it all you want, Applegate Thornton, but you know it's the truth.”

“It's all right, App.” Montana grinned, feeling at peace with the loss. She'd enjoyed her game despite Luke's presence. Why was it, when she didn't want a man in her life, God sent one along who totally made her crazy?

“Fellas, it's been fun, but I've gotta go,” she said.

“But you ain't ate nothin',” Sam said.

“I just came in to say hi. I was picking up a few supplies down at Pete's and thought I'd pop in.”

App grinned. “You didn't know you was gonna get yourself talked into a rowdy game of checkers, did ya?”

“No, App. I had no idea I was going to be a stand-in for Stanley. You tell him he better feel better soon, because I'm not doing his empty chair justice.”

“I'll tell him. I'm goin' over thar in a few minutes
ta take him some chicken noodle soup ole Sam cooked up special fer him.”

“You better be careful and not catch his bug.”

“I can't catch it. I ain't goin' past the porch. He's on his own from thar on out.”

Montana could understand App's attitude. He really didn't need to catch what his buddy had. But what if Stanley needed someone to check on him more closely? Her immune system was excellent; she hadn't been ill in ages. “What would he say if I took the soup by to him?”

All three men stared at her as if she was the last person on earth they expected to offer such an act of kindness. “Why are y'all looking at me like I just said the last thing any of you expected me to say?”

Sam slapped his white dishrag over his shoulder. “Fer starters, you don't hardly know Stanley.”

“I know Stanley. I've been in here several times since I came to town, and he's been nothing but nice to me.”

“That is true,” App said. “Stanley's loud, but he liked you from the moment you stomped in here with Lacy. 'Sides that, any friend of Lacy's is a friend of ours…and better than that, yor her family.”

“That's awful sweet of you to say. I liked the three of you from the first time I met y'all, too.” She included Sam in the three. She did not look at Luke on that one.

Sam gave her a frank look. “I kin tell you fer shor that Stanley would prefer gettin' his chicken soup delivered by a purdy gal like you a whole lot more than from a shriveled up old geezer like App. I'll go fix it up right now.”

Luke crossed his arms, watching her with an expres
sion that was part amused, part amazed. Did he really not think she could be nice and take a sick man a bowl of soup?

“Do you know where Stanley lives?” Luke asked finally.

“No. But App can give me directions.”

“It's kinda off the beaten path,” App said. “Stanley lives off a dirt road, off of another dirt road, way down past my house.”

“You can tell me. I can follow directions pretty good.” Did they really didn't think she couldn't take directions? How hard could it be to find a dirt road?

Sam came out of the kitchen with a large carryout bag. “You jest take this to him and tell him it should last him a couple of days. But if I was you, I'd get ol' Luke here ta drive ya out thar. Ain't no tellin' what in the world you might run into out thar in the boonies.”

“Guys, I can take care of myself.”

Sam wagged his head. “It ain't got a thang in the world ta do with that. My Adela called me while I was back thar gettin' this ready and I told her you was takin' it out to Stanley and she said I was not to let you go alone. Under no circumstances were you to head out thar without Luke here drivin' you.” He dropped his chin. “And if my Adela tells me that, then that's what I aim ta tell you.”

Montana would have protested and done exactly what she wanted. However, she glanced over at Luke, who gave her a what-are-you-afraid-of look. What
was
she afraid of? Nothing. She wasn't scared of him. She could let him drive her out there and it made no difference to her.

“Load up then. What are we waiting on?” Taking the soup, she headed toward the door. When she got there, she turned and gave App and Sam warning looks. “But you two better not make anything out of this little trip, other than me letting Luke take me out to Stanley's.”

Two sets of bushy brows rose to meet thinning hairlines despite both men trying their hardest to look innocent. She almost laughed, but one glance up at Luke and she scowled instead. The man was simply too good-looking for his own good. Okay, the man was too good-looking for
her
good. As he held the door open for her and she squeezed past him with the bag of soup, she reminded herself that she wasn't supposed to be thinking about how good he smelled, how good he looked or how nice he was going along with two old men with matchmaking on their minds.

 

“It's nice of you to take this out to Stanley.” Luke held the door of his truck open for Montana, and just naturally took her elbow to help her up into the seat.

“It's the right thing to do.”

He liked that, he thought, as he closed the door and headed around to his side. He glanced toward the diner's big window and there stood Sam beside App's table. Both men were grinning like two kids thinking they were pulling a good one. He chuckled as he got behind the wheel.

“They think they're so sneaky. Do you believe the story about Miss Adela calling?” Montana asked.

Luke started the truck and backed out before he answered. He wanted to get away from prying eyes.
He had seen a few other eyes staring out windows, too. From over at the candy store. And he thought he'd seen Esther Mae looking out of Ashby's Treasures—the ladies' clothing store that was directly across the street from Sam's diner. Everyone in town would know about this little trip before they even made it out to Stanley's.

“It sounded like something she might say, so it could be true. If not, Sam's getting pretty creative, isn't he?”

She laughed at that. “Oh, yes, he is. So, is Stanley's place really that hard to find?”

“Oh, yeah. The man lives down by the river, and you have to drive halfway across Texas as the crow flies to get there.” He grinned at her. “You'll see. And you'll be glad you decided not to be scared of me and let me drive you.”

“I wasn't scared of you.”

“Yeah, you were. Are.”

She shot him a glare that would have stopped a raging bull in its tracks. He challenged her with his expression before turning back to the road. Even ornery, she interested him. He wondered what it was that had her so mad and tense half the time. He aimed to find out, just like he aimed to get her to go out with him. He liked a challenge, and if there was one thing about Montana Brown that was as clear as the blue sky in front of them, it was that she was a challenge.

He sometimes wondered how his life would be if God hadn't created him to be as stubborn as he was, and as determined to meet a challenge head-on. Jess and Colt always called him bullheaded, but it was his
bullheadedness that had helped them all cope whenever their parents were yelling and screaming at each other back when they were younger. He'd only been ten when the worst fights were going on. When his poor mother was at her wit's end and just barely coping with the struggles of being married to his alcoholic dad. He'd been old enough to know he needed to get his brothers out of the house. They'd end up out in the neighbor's big barn, down the dirt road where they lived. Or they'd go fishing in the pond around the corner.

He'd been fourteen when his parents had finally split. And his mom left him to be in charge of his dad—and his brothers. She'd left him there. Nothing had ever been, or would be, harder than that day. He still had a hard time thinking about it. His brothers did, too, especially Jess.