Her Rodeo Cowboy (8 page)

“L
uke! Watch it—the calf,” Jess yelled from where he was separating the calves from the herd. The air was thick with the sound and scent of dusty cattle.

“Sorry,” Luke said. “My fault.” He was supposed to be opening the gate.

“Where's your head, man? That's the fourth calf I've had to cut out again.”

“It's on Montana,” Colt called from where he was giving shots at the chute. “I heard he got set up last night.”

“Oh, really now,” Jess rested his arm on his saddle horn. “Why haven't I heard about this? I'm in town way more than Colt.”

“I thought we were working cattle. Not talking about my private life.”

That got hoots of laughter from both his brothers.

Colt gave the calf its shot, looking up as he released it from the steel chute. “Private. What's private about it? All they're talking about between conversations
about the rodeo and festival is you and Montana. What I heard at the diner first thing this morning was the posse got you out there to a false committee meeting. App said you had dinner with Montana.”

“How did App know?” Luke asked.

“He said Hank came in around six. Esther Mae had been out at Norma Sue's—at the real committee meeting—and came home all excited about you and Montana having dinner together.”

Luke scowled. “How did they know we had dinner?”

“So you
did
have dinner.” Jess was all ears now.

“I'm not denying it. I went out there thinking I was going to a committee meeting and it was just Montana watching Tate while Lacy and Clint went on a date. We ended up having dinner and talking.”

“So, what did you think of her?” Colt stared at him through the bars of the squeeze chute. “I figured she might have sent you packing. Did she know it was a setup?”

“She realized what was going on before I did. And I like her. She's…” He paused, thinking about the evening. “She's observant and funny and interesting.”

He saw the wide-eyed look that passed between his brothers. “What's wrong with that?”

Jess straightened in the saddle. “Nothin'. We didn't say anything. You, on the other hand, said plenty.”

“I had dinner with her at her cousin's house with a sleeping baby. What's the big deal?” He wasn't sure why he was being so testy, but he was. He'd had dinner with other women, no big deal.

“Colt, you ever seen him get defensive over a woman?”

“Nope. Never. What's up with that, bro?”

“I'm defensive because we're supposed to be working.”

“Not buying that.” Jess shook his head. “You're the one letting the cows run free because your mind's on some cute cowgirl.”

True, but Luke wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of an answer just so they could hound him endlessly. He could give as good as he got, though, and if roles were reversed, he'd more than likely be the one digging and teasing. He looked nonplussed. “Colt, don't you need to be done here and hit the road? I thought you had a string of bull-riding events lined up starting tonight?”

He grinned, pulled the lever and let the vaccinated calf free. “I've got time. Don't worry about me. I've got
plenty
of time to hear all about you and Montana.”

Luke figured, sometimes it didn't pay to have brothers. There was just no pity there at all.

“Seriously, Luke, let's talk about this. You're thirty-four. We're out here working to build this business into something that we can pass on to our children. Something lasting. You know you aren't getting any younger.”

Colt chuckled from behind the protection of the squeeze chute. “That's right, big brother. You might want to start thinking about starting that family, so you won't be too old to play with your children.”

“Jess, you're thirty, that's not far behind me. And
Colt, you're twenty-eight. One of you is going to have to step up before I do.”

“You like this girl?” Jess asked, all kidding aside.

Luke could have shrugged it off, made a joke, gone back to work. But his brothers understood him like no one else. It was a bond forged by years of taking care of each other. Teasing aside, he knew he could shoot straight with them. “Yeah, I do. There's something about her drive and determination that attracts me. I honestly haven't figured out what makes her different.”

“That's easy,” Colt called, as if Luke had just missed the obvious. “You like her because, unlike the ones who are looking to change you when they tell you they aren't—” Luke shot him a sharp look that had Colt throwing up his hands. “Hey, I'm telling it like I heard it. As I was saying—this gal thinks like you do.”

Jess tapped his hand on his thigh. “Maybe you need to not think so much about how you aren't planning on getting serious, and let things just happen. Let yourself see where this leads.”

“Yeah, what could it hurt?” Colt added.

“I know y'all mean well. But do I seem unhappy to y'all? What's the deal here?”

“Nothing,” Jess said. “We just thought—”

Luke interrupted him. “I'm good, okay. Or I was, up until matchmakers started zeroing in on me, setting me up. And now y'all are ganging up on me. I'm fine, and whatever I do or don't do will be at my own time and pace.”

Colt grinned, teasing, “Okay, okay, no need to get all in a huff. Right, Jess?”

“Yeah,” Jess said, his own grin wide across his face. “Huffy isn't good on a cowboy such as yourself. Rest easy, we're not fixin' to tie you down and haul you to the altar.”

“Jerks.” Luke laughed, knowing they'd pushed his buttons and enjoyed watching him sweat bullets. “Get to work. We're burning daylight.”

“What's the hurry? You got a date tonight?” Jess called, his chuckle moving wickedly over the breeze to blend with Colt's.

Luke hid his grin.
Brothers.

 

The days after her “set-up dinner” with Luke flew by for Montana. She practiced her riding during the day, and helped out with Tate when she was needed. The baby spent some days with her and some with his mom and dad. The plans for the rodeo seemed to be falling in place and the excitement was building. Everywhere she went, they were talking about all the different people who'd been past residents of the tiny town who were coming back. The list included Adela's granddaughter Gabi. And Adela was very excited about that. Everyone knew that it was a long shot that any of the people would be able to actually move home. But like Norma Sue said, “Letting them come home to see the changes was a positive, and the attention they were drawing was always a good thing. Who knows, maybe some would find a way. And maybe some would fall in love.”

Of course, she'd been looking right at Montana when she made that last statement. Montana'd been getting a lot of that over the last two weeks.

Ever since Luke had shown up at her house, it had been on lots of minds. She wasn't saying much, just shrugging it off with a snappy retort, finding that teasing about it was about as easy a way out as anything. And besides, she and Luke had an understanding. They both knew they weren't looking for love, and that was all that mattered.

The fact that she now found the cowboy very likable and extremely attractive was no big deal—really. It was as if knowing they were on the same page helped her relax around him. Not that they were going on any more dates, but when she saw him she was able to not be on the defensive.

There was, however, the problem of Erica. The woman had issues. Montana had run into her a couple of times, and both times had been awkward, since Erica had ignored her when Montana had spoken. One of those times had been at church—which seemed a very odd place for someone to act that way. What Montana wanted to know was what she had done to the woman. Montana noticed that she had behaved the same way to Luke when he'd given her a casual hello. If only Erica would just move on. However, Montana didn't let it bother her.

She wasn't in the wrong. Luke and Erica were not an item and never had been. He'd made it clear from the beginning that he wasn't in the market. But Erica had
ignored his warning. She was out of line—she needed to accept responsibility for her mistake and move on.

Speaking of out of line, Montana was straightening up a barrel that was way off base from where it should be. One of the cowboys who worked for Clint had driven the tractor around, spreading and refreshing the dirt during lunch. He hadn't been exactly worried about where he placed her three barrels when he was done. They were way out of line—but if she could handle Erica's bad attitude, she could handle fixing a few barrels.

“Hey, cowgirl, they making you move your own barrels around these days?”

At the sound of Luke's voice, she spun around to find him watching her from the other side of the pen. Her heart did the wacky little jangle it had started doing when he was around; she promptly ignored it. Giving him a cocky grin, she walked toward where he was standing. “Yup, I can't prove it, but I think Clint's trying to get me in better shape for the event, so he told Bill to move them way out of line, so I'd have to wrestle 'em into place. It's a workout but it's all good.” She flexed her muscle. “These babies are growing by the day.”

He squinted at her arm. “You sure you call that a muscle?”

The beeper he wore on his belt suddenly went off. He snatched it up and stared at the message. “Fire at Esther Mae Wilcox's place,” he said, his words clipped. “I'm on the volunteer fire department. I've got to go.”

“But wait,” she called, already having climbed to the
top of the fence and thrown a leg over. She was about to jump to the ground when he turned, reached up and lifted her down.

“Sorry, gotta go,” he said, then headed at a trot toward the exit.

Obviously, the cowboy had misunderstood, thinking her call to wait was a call for help off the fence. She jogged after him, her mind on Esther Mae's fire. She hoped it wasn't bad. “I'm going with you,” she said, rounding the truck as he was yanking open his driver's side door.

He had the truck cranked by the time she had her door opened and had slung herself into the seat beside him.

“You sure?” he asked, already backing out to turn the truck in the right direction.

“Sure I'm sure. You might need help, so hit the gas, buddy!”

He nodded and punched the gas. They peeled out of the drive, and from across the pasture she could see Clint's black truck spraying gravel as he tore up one of the roads snaking deeper into the ranch. Clint and several of his ranch hands were on the volunteer fire department, too.

The sun beamed down hot as they sped past the area designated for the festival. Starting tomorrow, which was Wednesday, the vendors would start turning up, and by Friday the festivities would begin. But none of that mattered as she thought of Esther Mae and Hank. And the fire. She prayed they were all right. Prayed for their safety.

Luke snatched up a radio handset and shot questions at the dispatcher. It was a grease fire. Esther Mae had called it in. Hank was home, but out in the pasture somewhere. She was trying to put it out herself.

“That's not good,” Luke said, his expression growing grimmer. “Esther Mae is so excitable, she might get burned if she tries to deal with burning grease.”

“The house isn't worth her getting hurt.” Montana started praying harder for God to protect Esther Mae, and that the fire would be easily contained.

The radio crackled, alive with communication, as men all across the community reacted. “You don't have to go to town for your gear?” she asked when she realized they weren't heading toward town.

“It's in my tack box in the truck bed. Clint will go to town and get the truck.”

“There isn't any smoke,” Montana observed a few minutes later as the house came into view. “Oh, look there they are! On the front porch.” Relief swamped her.

“They look okay. That's a blessing.”

“Oh, my gracious!” Esther Mae exclaimed, flying off the porch to greet them with excited hugs. “Y'all got here so fast! Thank the good Lord.”

Her yellow shirt was smeared with something white, and her flaming red hair and face looked like they had been rained on with flour. Her long, yellow shorts were streaked and the bottoms of them were dripping wet. Her right side was splotchy with water, too. Hank sat on the porch looking glum, totally drenched from head
to toe. He held an ice pack to his forehead, and beneath it was a large purple knot.

“What happened to you?” Montana and Luke almost said in unison. Other trucks were pulling in behind them, and there was small crowd of firefighting cowboys gathering, asking questions, too. Hank frowned and didn't look at all enthused to speak.

“Oh, Hank came to my rescue…” Esther Mae gushed, ever so happy to share. “At least he tried. See, I was frying up some catfish for lunch. And Norma Sue called on the phone—” She paused, shooting Luke and Montana a pink-tinged glance. “We were, um, talking—and I walked into the other room for a few minutes and forgot about the grease. When I came back in, it had started flaming. I screamed and called 911—I still had the phone in my hand. Then I ran to the door and shouted, ‘Fire!' Hank was working in the barn and I was sure hoping he could hear me.”

Hank rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking more and more like he had a bigger headache coming on than the goose egg growing on his forehead.

“Did you get that bump when you were putting the fire out?” Montana asked.

Hank grunted, turned a deep shade of magenta. “Not exactly.”

“See, I shouted for Hank to bring water. I meant the water hose, but I guess the first thing that hit him was the cow pond. He grabbed up a bucket and bolted toward that pond as fast as a man his age can go. I don't know what I was more shocked at, him running or the fire! Well, I turned back to the kitchen and the flames
were shooting up toward the ceiling, I gasped and let go of the door, and you aren't going to believe this, but the wind suddenly came up out of nowhere, slammed that door back, ramming it up against the wall so hard that it shook the shelves on the wall above the fire flaming on the stove. The giant can of baking soda sitting up there fell off the shelf, knocking the lid off, and showered down on the fire and me like rain from the good Lord! It was a plum beautiful sight—and a miracle for certain.” Esther Mae blinked back tears and beamed happily at them all.