Second Chance Cowboy (3 page)

Sabrina glared at Patrick, watching him out of the corner of her eye, darting quick glances down at herself. “Darn, and I wore them especially for you.”

Patrick ignored her sarcasm. “I’ll just bet you did.” Sabrina smiled, her luscious strawberry lips curling up, causing Patrick more discomfort “You’re entitled to your opinion. I’m entitled to mine.”

Why did he feel he’d lost that round? Somehow he felt like she was laughing at him. She’d been laughing ever since that day in court when her brother had made a fool of him and she’d backed her brother not her fiancé.

“If you’re just going to sit there and gawk at me with that scowl on your face, I’m walking home.”

“Good. Maybe by the time you get there, you’ll smell better,” Patrick replied. “I won’t have to worry about the Indians taking you; one smell and they’d run.”

“What Indians?”

He flashed her a slow grin. “Run along home, little girl.”

“Answer me! What Indians are you talking about?” Sabrina questioned. “Have there been more attacks?”

Patrick threw a leg over the side of his horse and stepped down. He walked to the edge of the pond, ignoring Sabrina, knowing it was driving her crazy.

He turned and gazed at her, smiling with insolence. “No, there have been no other attacks. At least not direct ones. Some rustled cattle, the attack on your father, a scalping or two, but nothing serious.”

Her sapphire eyes grew large with surprise and fear as she gazed at Patrick. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m surprised Jed let you go off riding by yourself.’

“I didn’t tell him.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “I should have known.”

She gazed across the countryside, weighing her choices, uneasiness apparent in her restless manner. Finally, she turned her gaze upon Patrick and took a deep breath. She asked, “Would you take me home?”

How could he refuse her? Patrick walked over and opened his saddlebags. He pulled out the extra clothes he always carried.

He held up his extra shirt and pants, like an offering. “Yesterday you got a free ride; today I have a proposition for you. Clean clothes and a ride home in exchange for first and last dance at the Jarvis’ party.” His lips turned up in a playful grin, “And a kiss.”

What had caused him to ask for a kiss? Puzzled by his actions, Patrick watched Sabrina turn red. One kiss would prove he no longer had feelings for her. Once and for all, he would be able to say he was truly over Sabrina.

“That’s crazy! I’m not making any deal with you.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to walk.” He watched her sapphire eyes turn to ice as he continued. “I’m not riding with you and your sweet odor.”

“You wouldn’t leave me out here all alone!” she charged.

“Watch me.” His deep voice held a challenge, and he started to walk away, still holding the extra clothes.

“Wait,” she pleaded.

“Are you ready to deal?” His eyes went magnetically to those long, slender legs. He had a weakness for legs, and hers were an exceptional pair in those tight, wet pants.

Sabrina glared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

Patrick smiled. How could she ask that question when he had only to look at her in those clinging clothes and a fire began below. “If
a
woman is going to wear my clothes, I want something in return.”

Sabrina threw her hands up in the air. “Is this the only way you can get women to dance with you? Kiss you?”

“These are the terms of the deal.” Patrick shrugged. “Take it or leave it.”

“I could just walk out of here and leave behind you, your clothes, and your silly deal.” Sabrina reminded him.

“You could.” Patrick paused with a cocky grin. “But you won’t. Wouldn’t the ranch hands enjoy the story of their boss’s daughter smelling like a polecat?”

“I’m sure they’re going to hear it from you anyway.” Sabrina leaned against the willow tree. “How could such a lovely day turn out to be so rotten?”

Patrick laughed. “I would say odorous, wouldn’t you?”

Sabrina wanted to hit him, but resisted the urge, realizing it would only delay them and she really needed to get home before her father sent out the troops looking for her. “Okay, I agree. Now, cut the stupid jokes and give me those clothes.”

“You agree to what?” he questioned her, his eyes twinkling with merriment at her discomfort.

Sabrina wanted to scream, but tersely replied, “I agree to dance with you. Kiss you.”

“I thought you’d see things my way.” Patrick tossed her the clothes and turned around, giving Sabrina privacy.

She proceeded to rid herself of the vile-smelling clothes, changing quickly into Patrick’s shirt and pants, fuming and plotting revenge all the while. Even with her belt on, the pants hung from her hips, threatening her modesty. The shirt engulfed her small frame, but covered the essentials.

“You can turn around. I’m dressed now.”

Sabrina watched as his eyes raked over her and he chuckled in delight “Now that’s the way a woman should look wearing men’s clothing. Like a ragamuffin.”

“Just take me home. I’m beginning to tire of your company.”

Slowly, Patrick walked toward her, a silly grin on his face. “As soon as I get my kiss.”

She wanted to run, but her pride stopped her. “I was hoping you had forgotten.”

“Not on your life.”

Sabrina slowly backed away from him, trying to put the maximum distance between them. Patrick steadfastly advanced, his intentions clear from the expression in his eyes, causing her blood to pound with anticipation.

The trailing wisps from the willow tree touched her face and she knew she was quickly running out of ground. Her breathing quickened as the scrape of bark against her skin confirmed her fear. She had run out of space and time. She was trapped. Patrick was going to kiss her.

He grabbed her and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, pressing their bodies together. With apprehension, she watched his mouth descend. Soft, warm lips covered hers, gently caressing her. Hot languid heat filled her body. She swayed in his arms, clutching his shirt for support. In an instant, she was transported back to a simpler time under this very tree, a time when she had been hopelessly in love with Patrick. His kisses, then, had been innocent, sweet. But not any longer.

She tingled with anticipation as his tongue made its way into her mouth, probing and retreating, exploring each crevice. This was not the sweet kiss of their youth; this was different. This was better. This had to stop.

Forcing her arms between their bodies, she pushed him away, breaking the kiss, ending the spell. Breathlessly, she said, “You got your kiss. Now take me home.”

“
S
enor Jed
, Matt went looking for your ranching reports today.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

“De nada,
Senor.”

At supper that night, Matt casually announced he was going into town to play a few hands of poker. Jed pretended not to care, but as soon as the boy left, Jed picked up his gun belt and hat, heading to town after Matt.

Arriving not long after Matt, Jed casually sauntered inside the saloon. The piano player banged out music from a tinny piano while smoke floated through the room, filling the air. Jed spotted Matt at the poker table with Trey Jarvis and some hands from the Jarvis ranch.

Strolling up to the table, Jed asked, “Care if I join you?”

Matt’s face turned ashen as he swallowed convulsively, recognizing his father.

“Sure. Minimum bet is one dollar and you’ll need a hundred dollars to join the game,” the dealer informed Jed.

“You boys believe in playing for big bucks.”

“Why not?” Trey replied smugly.

Matt frowned at his father. “Dad, why don’t you go to the bar and have a drink.” Cold blue eyes, so much like his wife Ellen’s, flickered nervously.

“No. I want to play poker.” His voice sounded defensive to his own ears.

The men made room for Jed and his money at the table. After everyone anted, the dealer shuffled the cards and dealt a hand of five card draw. Picking up his cards, Jed stared at a pair of aces.

Trey started the betting. Everyone paid and took their next cards. Jed drew three more cards. Matt took only one.

A tense silence enveloped the room. Matt cleared his throat. “I raise the bet twenty dollars.”

The men grumbled, throwing down their cards. All except Jed, whose stare drilled his son, the boy he had watched toddle from a baby into a young man. The man to whom he had intended to leave the Big C.

“I’ll see your bet and raise you another twenty.” Though Jed’s voice was steady, his hands shook. Their eyes met and held. They faced off, just the two of them.

In a trembling voice, Matt said, “I’ll meet it and call you.”

“I have a pair of aces and a pair of queens.”

Matt threw down his two pairs of kings and threes in disgust. Jed scooped his winnings in, keeping the money that Matt had bet separate from the others money. He picked up one of the bills and examined it closely. Barely discernible was the Big C brand where he had marked the bill. The last hope of his son’s innocence died, leaving him bitter.

“Well, boys, it’s been fun. But I think I’ll quit and go home now,” Jed said.

“But you just got here,” the dealer spat angrily. “You can’t quit after one hand.”

Jed glared at the man. His fancy turquoise vest reminded Jed of a peacock. A strutting, squawking peacock. “Watch me.” He shoved the money in his pockets and stood up from the table. “I want to see you in private, Matthew. Now!”

Unable to look his father in the eye, Matt stood. “Deal me out this hand.”

He followed his father to the back of the saloon, into the owner’s open office. Jed shut the door firmly behind him.

“Sit down.” Jed stared at his only son painfully.

Matt sat down. “What is it, Dad?”

Fury flamed inside of Jed like a brushfire. “Money is missing from the ranch’s cash box. It once held three thousand dollars. It now holds less than five hundred dollars.”

“But—”

“Shut up and let me finish. That money was the ranch’s emergency fund. It’s taken me years to build it up.” Jed paused, glaring as his son squirmed in his chair.

“When I discovered it missing, I decided to mark the bills.” Jed let the information sink in, watching his son’s face slowly turn pale. “Bills that you used to gamble with.”

“Dad, I didn’t take the money.”

Before Jed could stop himself, he slapped Matt’s face, knocking him to the floor. “Don’t lie to me! I know you took the money.” Jed felt as if his heart were being ripped out

Matt gingerly held his jaw. “I had gambling debts I had to pay.”

“Why didn’t you come to me and tell me about them?”

“I thought if I paid them, then I would win the money back and replace it in the box without your knowing.”

“Dammit, son. Over two thousand dollars’ worth? When are you going to learn you can’t win at gambling?” Jed wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

“Dad, I’ve been trying to win that money back. If you’ll give me another chance I’ll win enough to pay the rest of my IOU’s and put the money back in the box.”

“What do you mean, your IOU’s? How much do you owe?”

“Ah . . .”

Jed jerked Matt up by the collar. “I said, how much do you owe and to whom?”

“I owe Carson Jarvis a thousand dollars.”

Jed instantly released Matt, who sank to the floor, despair on his face. “You’ve lost over three thousand dollars gambling?”

Hopelessness filled Jed. He had heard of men losing everything to gambling, but he had never believed it would happen to one of his children. Jed stared in disbelief at his son. “I needed that cash for the ranch. You’ll have to get yourself out of this mess.”

Not even the loss of Ellen could compare to losing Matthew. At least he could blame her death on fate, but Matt had been his responsibility and he had failed miserably.

Jed’s throat clogged with tears of frustration, anger, and disappointment. A rough cough hid them as he cleared his throat. “Don’t come back home until you’ve paid back Carson.”

“But Dad, I work for you.”

“Son, maybe you call it work, but I have men on the ranch who do three times the amount of work you do.”

“But where am I going to get a job?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t just throw me out”

“I just did.” With that Jed picked up his hat from the desk and stormed out of the office, leaving behind pieces of his heart and his only son.

“
Y
ou wanted to see me
, sir?” Matt stood uncertain in the door of Carson Jarvis’s office. Whiskey from the night before and the two cowboys who stood beside him had turned his gut into a fiery furnace. Their fists had none-to-gently persuaded him it would be in his best interest to return with them to the Cactus Spread, Carson’s ranch.

“Come in and shut the door, Matt,” Carson commanded.

Matt stepped in, relieved to be rid of the two cowpokes who had accompanied him. In disbelief, he gawked at the richly furnished room. Bookshelves filled with leather-bound books from ceiling to floor lined one wall. A large stone fireplace faced the bookcases, giving a sense of warmth to the room.

Carson sat behind a large oak desk that was placed in front of an oversized window where he could watch anyone coming or leaving the ranch. Though this wasn’t his first visit to the ranch, Matt had never been in Mr. Jarvis’ office before.

“Sit down, Matthew.” Carson leaned back in his chair and struck a match, lighting a small, thin cigar. “Trey told me you’re no longer living on the Big C. How come?”

Matt swallowed nervously and rubbed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. How could a person be both hot and cold at once? “My father and I—we had a slight disagreement”

“Must have been some disagreement for ole Jed to kick out his only son,” Carson replied knowingly.

Matt shrugged his shoulders. “He’s upset right now.”

“This fight didn’t have anything to do with the money you owe me, did it?” Carson asked suspiciously.

“Dad didn’t know I owed you money.”

“Was that the reason for your falling out of favor?”

Why wouldn’t the floor open up and swallow him whole. How could he lie? “You might say so.”

Carson raised his eyebrows in a speculative gesture and puffed on his cigar. Matt felt that he was on trial again as Carson sat and stared at him, letting silence fill the room.

Finally, he asked the question Matt had been both dreading and expecting. “When are you going to pay me, boy?”

“I’ve been looking for work, Mr. Jarvis, honestly. And I haven’t been playing poker.” Matt licked his lips, trying to get moisture into his suddenly dry mouth.

“That’s good, but I want my money.” Carson’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “I don’t think you have any way of paying me back. Especially now that your daddy’s no longer backing you.”

“No, Mr. Jarvis. But I promise I will,” Matt stammered.

Silence filled the room as Carson’s green eyes drilled Matt “That’s not good enough.” He flicked his cigar ashes onto the floor. “If you remember, I’ve already gotten you and that stubborn son of mine out of trouble once. It seems you didn’t learn the first time.”

“I’d pay you if I had the money, Mr. Jarvis,” Matt exclaimed, his voice tight with anxiety. Silence filled the room like the stench from Carson’s cigar, heavy and sweet.

Leaning back in his chair, Carson sat watching Matt, waiting. Finally, he crossed his legs and said, “You’re never going to have that kind of money without your pa!” He frowned. “Are you sure your father won’t pay off your debts?”

“No, sir. He said this time I had to get myself out of this mess.” Matt hung his head. He would never forget that awful night in the Painted Lady. Just like Carson, he had always thought his father would be there for him.

“Well then, boy, you’re going to have to work for me,” Carson replied smugly. “I don’t give money away for nothing.”

“Are you offering me a job, Mr. Jarvis?” Matt questioned.

“No, son, I’m not offering you a job. I’m indenturing you until your loans are paid off.” His voice was hard as steel.

“You can’t make me stay and work for you,” Matt retorted.

A shadow of annoyance crossed Carson’s face. “Watch me, son. I can get the sheriff—or even better, I’ll just get the same two boys who brought you in to work you over until you’ll be begging to work for me.”

Matt sat in silence, his body still reeling from the effects of his last meeting with Carson’s men. Caught in a trap of his own making, he had no choice but to do what Carson wanted, for now. His father had warned him about Carson and Trey, but he had never paid much heed to those words. Now, like so many other things he’d done, he regretted it

He felt his stomach start to pitch and sway like a ship tossed about in a storm. What choice did he have? He couldn’t take another beating. “When do I start?”

“Now.” Carson smiled a triumphant grin.

Matt hung his head. When he raised his eyes, he glared at the man he thought had been his friend. At this moment he hated Carson.

“Don’t look so mad. I’m counting on your daddy paying me off with the Big C.”

Matt clenched his fist, trying to hold in his anger. “My father is not going to give you the Big C. He loves that land and I wouldn’t expect him to.”

Carson chuckled. “I don’t know about that. It seems to me ole Jed paid his share of the bribery money to keep you from hanging. There’s a good chance he’ll hand over the Big C.”

S
abrina sat
alongside the barn wall and observed Trey and Carson Jarvis greeting each of their guests. Tonight was the biggest social event of the year and everyone from miles around had traveled to the Cactus Spread. The guests planned to stay over as the dancing would last late into the night. The men would bed down in the barn, while the women spent the night in the house. It was a rare occasion that brought the small community together.

The animals had been removed, the barn cleaned, and the smell of fresh sweet hay filled the air. Lanterns hung from the rafters, illuminating the makeshift dance floor the men had hastily constructed. Chairs were placed around the barn for the guests to sit and gossip.

Sabrina hadn’t been able to eat a bite, nervous and excited as she was. Old friends, people she had not seen since that fateful day two years ago, greeted her and made her feel welcome once again. Much to her relief, no one had mentioned the trial or her engagement.

Out of the corner of her eye, she observed Patrick strolling into the barn. He was here. All day she had warred within herself, part of her hoping he would show up, the other part wishing he’d stay away. The last dance they had attended was the night he had asked her to marry him. Tonight the past stood between them like a silent barrier, protecting her from his devastating charm.

The fiddlers were warming up their instruments when Carson called out, “Find your dancing partner for the Grand March.”

Sabrina glanced up to see Patrick standing in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the moment had come. A small buzz of chatter began in the room as Sabrina saw people turn to witness the encounter between herself and Patrick. Everyone around them was staring, remembering the past, and remembering their engagement.

The glow from the lantern sparkled and danced in his eyes. His voice was raspy. “I believe this dance is mine.”

He was handsomely attired in a chambray shirt and blue pants. A ribbon tie lay neatly on his shirt and his hair had been cut since the last time she’d seen him. His spurs sparkled like brass bells, jingling when he moved.

Sabrina forced a smile upon her face. She had to dance with him. Standing up, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. “Not by choice.”

Sabrina took Patrick’s offered arm to line up for the dance. “I hope you enjoy having your toes stepped on, because I plan on taking advantage of every opportunity.”

“I think my boots and spurs will protect me, but who’s going to protect you from me?”

Before she could reply, Patrick swept her into his arms and the motions of the dance. His rough, callused palm engulfed her hand, squeezing it, sending her heart lurching into her throat. How could her mind have forgotten what her body immediately responded to? His slightest touch sent tremors down her spine. Years might have passed, but the effect was still the same.

After their promenade, they each joined their respective line of dancers. Sabrina cast a wary glance at Patrick. Had he heard her heart pounding when he squeezed her hand?

When they came together at the end of the dance, Sabrina fell into step with Patrick. Her pulse quickened when his hand touched hers. The nerves in the tips of her fingers tingled, sending messages up her arm and down the rest of her body. Why this man? What about his touch had the power to make her body respond in ways she’d never felt before?

When the Grand March ended, the fiddlers immediately started a waltz. Sabrina tried to walk away, but Patrick tightened his hold on her, gliding them around the floor.

“The first dance is over,” Sabrina insisted, the will to resist him almost nonexistent. Her eyes lingered on his lips. Those soft, full lips had kissed her days before and the memory of that kiss sent her pulse tripping.

“My feet didn’t know the first dance had ended,” Patrick said as he looked down into her sapphire eyes.

She looked dazzling tonight in her blue dress. Unknowingly, they had worn the same shade of blue and matched perfectly, reminding him that only two years ago, they’d been together. She had already hurt him once, and he wasn’t going to give her a second chance to break his heart.

Her blonde hair was pulled back from her heart- shaped face. Soft, slightly pink lips—moist as if she had just caressed them with her tongue—glistened, beckoning him. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the other day at the pond?

His eyes swept down the bodice of her dress and lingered on the scooped neckline. The soft exposed swells of her creamy white breasts surged over the material. A gold locket rested softly where Patrick had a wicked urge to put his lips and taste her bare flesh.

Sharp pain suddenly radiated in his left foot as her dainty foot stamped down on his. Patrick looked up, meeting Sabrina’s flashing blue eyes. “That was to bring your attention back where it belongs.”

Patrick grinned. He’d been caught. “I was enjoying the view. As nice as it is tonight, I’ll have to say I enjoyed it much more at the pond.”

“Patrick!” He watched with satisfaction as a warm glow started at the base of her neck, traveling up her cheeks.

“Well, I can’t help it. Those wet, clinging pants. . .” A sharp kick to his shin left his left leg tingling. “Ouch!”

“It’s going to hurt a lot worse if you don’t keep your mouth shut.” Sabrina stiffened in his arms. Her face was clearly red now and not from embarrassment.

He grinned. Unable to resist, he replied, “It already hurts, and I’m not talking about my foot.”

Her eyes clearly sent the message. If they hadn’t been amongst the townsfolk, she would have inflicted more bodily harm, but somehow unwanted attention was something she didn’t need. “Don’t mention the pond again, unless you want to dance alone.”

“I won’t mention it, but I definitely won’t forget it.”

His voice, deep and strong, sent a ripple of awareness through her.

The music suddenly ended and Sabrina didn’t wait for Patrick to escort her back to her chair as she dashed off the makeshift dance floor. Patrick had the ability to evoke feelings better left unexplored.

Patrick called after her in a teasing voice, “Don’t forget, the last dance is mine.”

Glancing back, she tossed the words over her shoulder. “If you can find me.”

Feeling the need for something to cool her down, she headed for the punch bowl. Anything to get her mind off Patrick and to still her racing heart.

As she poured herself a glass of punch, a low-pitched voice behind her whispered, “I thought I knew all the prettiest gals this side of the Rio Grande, but I don’t think I know you.”

Whirling around, she came face to face with Trey Jarvis, her brother’s best friend. “Hello, Trey.”

Sabrina watched Trey’s green eyes sweep over her in an assessing view. “Sabrina Callahan. It is you. You decided to come home from the big city.”

Hair the color of deepest autumn was combed to the side with one curl lingering over his forehead. Angel kisses spread across his face, dotting his nose and cheeks, but instead of subtracting from his looks, they enhanced him, giving him a rugged air.

“Yes, I don’t know why I waited so long. It feels great to be home.” Sabrina replied nervously. At one time Trey had had a crush on her that had left her feeling uneasy in his presence.

Carson Jarvis walked up beside his son and smiled charmingly at her. “Sabrina, it’s good to see you back home. The culture of Fort Worth must have agreed with you. You look radiant.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carson, I see your ranch is doing well.”

“Yes, girl, it’s better than ever.”

Ill at ease, Sabrina reached out and smoothed her skirt. The fiddlers struck up a new tune. Trey asked, “Would you care to dance?”

Sabrina started to say no, then realized if anyone would know where Matt was, Trey would. Matt hadn’t been home in the last few nights and her father had ignored her questions regarding Matt’s whereabouts. As much as she disliked using Trey, she had to find out about Matt. Reluctantly, she replied, “Yes, thank you.”

Reaching the dance floor, they glided to the music gracefully, each in step with the music. Eyes the color of a field of grass in springtime stared at her as he waltzed her around the barn. His palm felt nothing like Patrick’s. The calluses were smaller and his hands had a smoothness that Patrick’s were missing. An expert dancer, Trey very deftly guided Sabrina around the small floor, but dancing with Trey was not nearly as intimate as dancing with Patrick.

Sabrina gazed up to find Trey looking at her, the desire barely concealed in his emerald eyes.

Would he tell her about Matt? All he could do was tell her to mind her own business, but where Matt was concerned that was impossible. “Are you and Matt still friends?”

“We talk occasionally, play poker together,” Trey replied.

“Have you seen him lately?” Sabrina paused. “I’m worried about him. He hasn’t been home and I need to talk to him.”

Trey frowned and gazed down at her. “I’ve seen him.” Excited, Sabrina replied, “Where?”

He merely looked at Sabrina, not offering her the information she wanted.