Cowboy Strong Read online

  “I’m good. But I was just about to take Sawyer to pick up his Range Rover at the mechanic. You could save me the trip.”

  “Sure.” Sawyer had spent much of the past week working on his article. Every time she’d gone over to use his kitchen, he’d either locked himself in his room or worked outside on his porch. She’d sort of gotten used to his company and their little banter routine. It wasn’t like she missed him—Liar!—but having him around made the days pass faster. “What’s wrong with his Range Rover?”

  Aubrey shrugged. “All I know is that Jace followed him to the shop this morning and took him home and I was supposed to drive him to pick it up. But now I have you to save me the trouble.” She did a little hip-shake happy dance.

  “I’ll go over and get him.”

  “Don’t forget dinner at Charlie’s tonight. Just us girls.”

  Gina had been looking forward to it ever since they’d invited her a couple of days ago. The last time she’d had a girls’ night was in the dorms at San Diego State. Sadie had had her sights set on USC for Gina. But Gina’s GPA hadn’t been high enough to get in. Another epic fail on Gina’s part.

  “The pie is cooling and ready to go,” she told Aubrey. “And of course, strawberry shortcake.” The cake had been a special request of Travis and Grady, who’d be away but wanted slices when they got home.

  Charlie had gotten the strawberries at a nearby farm stand. The blackberries for the pie came from the bush that kept giving. She had so many berries that she’d made a buckle, a pandowdy, and a crostata. Gina had delivered them to Laney and Jimmy Ray for review. Jimmy Ray said they were the best desserts he’d ever eaten and Laney had thrown a soup ladle at him. The woman had a temper.

  Maybe while she was at the kitchen store she’d buy an ice cream maker and if the shop carried it, some good vanilla beans, too.

  She drove to Sawyer’s and tooted her horn. He came out onto the balcony, looked down at her car, and glowered.

  She stuck her head out the window and shouted up, “I’m taking you to get your Range Rover.” She added “asshole” under her breath.

  He went back inside and came down a few minutes later in a pair of worn jeans and T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. His hair was damp, like maybe he’d just showered, and a few dark tendrils curled against his neck. He looked like a walking Super Bowl ad for Ram trucks or something equally testosterone-driven.

  He got inside the passenger side of her car and pulled the seat back as far as it would go. “Where’s Aubrey?”

  “She asked if I’d give you a ride because I was going to town anyway.” She backed out of his driveway and headed to Dry Creek Road. “Unless you want to come with me to the kitchen store first?”

  “Tess’? What for?”

  So we can hang out, stupid. “So you can carry my stuff to the car.”

  He snorted, then glanced at his watch. “Buck said my car wouldn’t be ready until two, so I’ve got a little time to kill. But first let’s stop off at Beals Ranch. I want to talk to Randy about buying his stock trailer.”

  “Will he recognize me?”

  “I doubt it, but even if he did he isn’t the type to spread it around. Ranchers have a tendency to keep to themselves…shun the press.”

  “Okay.” She had nothing else to do. “Tell me where to go.”

  He gave her directions. About twenty minutes later, they passed a Century 21 for sale sign, boasting “cattle property” and drove through an elaborate gate. From the top of the gateposts swung a large iron cattle-brand emblem and the words Beals Ranch.

  “Do they raise cows, too?”

  “Yup, but the ranch is on the market.”

  He guided her to a home that had been oversold by the impressiveness of the gate. It was a faded yellow farmhouse with a wraparound porch that had seen better days. And the cement walkway up to the front door could use a power washing. There were three pickup trucks and a Subaru Forester parked in front of a four-car garage, which seemed excessive given the size of the house.

  A couple of kids played on a tire swing that hung from a big oak tree in the side yard. Sawyer waved as he got out of the car. A dog barked from the porch and someone yelled for it to be quiet. An attractive woman about Gina’s age came down the steps and gave Sawyer a hug.

  “What a nice surprise.”

  “I wanted to talk to your dad about his stock trailer.”

  Sawyer introduced the woman—Jill—to Gina. There was something off between them; Gina could feel it right away. She wondered if maybe Jill and Sawyer had dated and the relationship had ended badly. Whatever it was, she sensed a gnawing discomfort between the two.

  “Daddy’s on his way home. He should be here any minute.” Jill turned to the kids on the swing. “You guys go wash up. Your father’s coming to get you for lunch at the coffee shop.”

  The kids ran up the steps and into the house.

  “You want to come in…have something to drink while you wait?”

  “Nah,” Sawyer said. “I don’t want to impose.”

  “No imposition and it’s hot out here.” She ushered them through the front door.

  The inside of the house was as worn as the outside but surprisingly cozy. Lots of family pictures and braided rugs. Someone had a penchant for cutesy inspirational signs because they were everywhere. Bless this house, life is better on the ranch, kiss a cowboy, and chasing cows will be your fate if you don’t shut the gate.

  Jill led them to the kitchen, which hadn’t been updated since the eighties: Cream-tile countertops, oak cabinets, and white appliances. Still, the room exuded warmth. Gina could tell a lot of happy family meals had been prepared in here.

  “You want a soda, juice, or lemonade?” Jill asked.

  “Ice water is fine.” Sawyer was being polite but not friendly.

  Gina planned to ask him about it when they left.

  “Do you live around here, Gina?” Jill asked and Gina wanted to kick Sawyer for using her real name. The good news was Jill didn’t seem to recognize her, not in Gina’s hat and glasses.

  “Just visiting for the day.” Gina waited for the inevitable follow-up questions—Oh yeah, what brings you to Dry Creek? Where you from? Aren’t you that bimbo celebrity chef who slept with Danny Clay?—but Jill just nodded. It struck Gina that maybe Jill thought she was Sawyer’s girlfriend.

  Gina would’ve disabused Jill of that notion, but it was actually a good cover.

  Jill brought them each a glass of water and motioned for them to take a seat at the round oak table in the breakfast nook. There was a sliding glass door half-covered in dog and little-hand smudge marks that looked out onto a garden.

  “Is your dad selling to Mitch?” Sawyer asked.

  The question had been delivered bluntly and Gina heard an undertone of…something. Anger, maybe. There was a strange undercurrent going on here that she couldn’t read. Another thing to ask him about later.

  “They’re in negotiations,” Jill said and let her eyes drop to her feet. “Brett’s on his way over to spend some time with the kids. I think he’s planning to hang out with Jace later, but I know he’d love to see you.”

  Gina got the sense Jill was trying to change the subject with her abrupt non sequitur about Brett. She assumed Brett must be Jill’s ex and that Jill didn’t want to discuss the sale of her family’s ranch, which was probably emotional.

  Gina watched Sawyer, trying to figure out what was going on here. He definitely didn’t like Jill, who seemed perfectly nice to Gina.

  Sawyer glanced at his watch and feigned surprise at the time. “We’ve got an appointment in town that we’ll be late for if we don’t giddyup. I’ll catch up with Brett this evening.” He stood abruptly. “Tell your dad I dropped by and I’ll call him later.”

  Sawyer gently took Gina’s arm and guided her out of her chair. Jill walked th
em to the door and Sawyer made a beeline for Gina’s BMW.

  “What just happened there?” Gina started her car and nosed down the driveway.

  “A couple of more minutes in Jill’s presence and I was going to let her have it. She’s getting everything she ever wanted.”

  “What is it that she wants? And who’s Brett?”

  “It’s a long, ugly story and Brett is Jill’s husband.”

  She slid Sawyer a sideways glance. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

  “You’re going the wrong way. You were supposed to make a left on Dry Creek Road, not a right.”

  Gina sighed. These blasted country roads had her all turned around. She hung a U-turn and headed toward the highway.

  “Are they broken up?” Gina assumed if Brett was coming over to spend time with his kids he lived elsewhere.

  “Yep.”

  “Why?” For a man in the communications business, he was awfully tight-lipped.

  “Among other reasons, she cheated on him with Brett’s best friend,” he finally said.

  She turned in her seat to face Sawyer. “Seriously?”

  “Watch where you’re going.” He nudged his head at the road. “Yeah, seriously. She cheated with Mitch, the guy who’s about to buy her family’s property and turn it into fucking leisure land.”

  “How does that get Jill exactly what she wants? And what do you mean by leisure land?”

  Sawyer huffed out a breath. “Here’s the Reader’s Digest version because the full version is complicated. Last summer, Jill and her brother stole their parents’ cattle in a ploy to force them into selling the ranch. That way Mitch could come in and swoop up the land for a good price and develop it. In return, Mitch was going to give Jill and her brother, Pete, a cut. But Jace and Cash got wise to their little conspiracy and busted them before the deal could go through. If it wasn’t for Randy refusing to press charges against his kids they’d all be in prison now.”

  “Are you saying that without the money from their cattle they would have defaulted on their loan?” Gina had no idea what cattle were worth, but it seemed like there had to be livestock insurance against theft, market fluctuations, disease, or any of the myriad things that could go wrong in the livestock business.

  “Yep. Most ranchers don’t have a lot of reserves and can’t afford insurance. We’re living paycheck to paycheck, so to speak.”

  “Okay, but if they got their cattle back, why are they being forced to sell now?” It didn’t make sense.

  “They didn’t get their cattle back. By the time Jace and Cash figured out what was going on, the Bealses’ cattle were already hamburger meat. As part of the resolution, Mitch agreed to pay Randy and Marge restitution for the stolen cattle. But they were already so far in debt that the only way to crawl out is to sell. Which means Mitch is going to wind up with the property anyway. And when he’s done developing it, we’ll be living next to a retirement golf-course community with rows of mini-mansions and fake lakes. It’s not anything my cousins and I want for a neighbor.”

  “Why don’t you guys just buy it?”

  He let out a rusty laugh. “You mean with all the millions we’ll make from leasing land to two college grads who want to go into the flower business? We’re having enough trouble holding on to Dry Creek Ranch, let alone buying more land.”

  They’d been talking so intently that Gina had lost track of directions. Again. “Did I miss the turnoff for the highway?”

  “It’s coming up in about a mile. Did you just get your license or something?”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a moron?”

  He laughed. “A time or two, yes. Why don’t you pull over and let me drive?”

  “Not in this lifetime, pretty boy.”

  “Pretty boy?” He slanted her a glance and quirked a brow. “How is it that you’re able to find your way around Los Angeles but can’t manage a small country lane that only runs in two directions?”

  “I manage to get around here just fine without you in the car.”

  “You still find me distracting, huh?”

  She blew out a loud raspberry. “Still high on yourself, I see.”

  “Turn right up here to get on forty-nine.”

  “I know where I’m going.” Frankly, she would’ve missed the turn had he not said something. To compensate, she hung the right a little too sharply and her tires squealed.

  He exaggerated a grab for the roof handle. “Slow down there, Mario.”

  She looked over at the passenger seat where his long, denim-encased legs were splayed wide. The tip of his boots reached the front of the floorboard, even with the chair extended all the way back.

  “What do you want at Tess’?” he asked.

  “Maybe an ice cream maker, not sure yet.”

  “Then why are we going?”

  “To get out of the house, mainly. And to spend quality time with you.” She flashed a saccharine smile. “So are Jill and Brett getting a divorce?”

  “You sure are interested in people you don’t even know.”

  “It’s better than thinking about myself.”

  “I thought that was your favorite pastime.”

  She reached up, took off the silly straw cowboy hat, and flung it in the back seat. No one would recognize her in the car. And it was hot as Hades today and the hat added ten degrees.

  “Well, are they divorcing or not?”

  “I think they’re trying to work it out, at least according to Jace. I don’t know Brett all that well, only that he’s a vet, who came back from war in a wheelchair.”

  “Oh my God. He can’t walk?”

  “He’s a paraplegic.”

  She gasped. “That is so sad. And then his wife sleeps with the best friend. Holy crap.”

  “Yep. The whole thing was a shit show. After the separation, he moved to Sacramento and enrolled in a vocational training program for disabled vets. Carpentry, I think.”

  He cocked his head. “Speaking of cheating spouses, I’m having a friend look at that picture of you and Danny Clay on the beach to see if it was doctored.”

  “To see? The picture’s completely one-hundred-percent bogus,” she said, heated, then reminded herself that he was trying to help her. “But thank you.” Gina was surprised he’d gone to the trouble. The fact that Sawyer even believed her was a minor miracle. She suspected no one else would. “Your mom is also having it looked at by an expert she knows.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from her. But I figure it doesn’t hurt to get a second opinion.”

  “We were never together on the beach or anywhere else. But there’s no question it’s me in the photo, though there are a few inconsistencies.”

  “Like what?”

  “Let’s just say some of my anatomy was either augmented or mixed and matched with Dolly Parton’s.”

  He boldly gazed at her chest and grinned. “I wasn’t going to mention it. But, yeah, I noticed the disparity. Like a lot.”

  “Thanks.” She elbowed him in the shoulder.

  He bobbed his head at the road. “You’re about to miss our exit.”

  She jammed in front of a pickup towing a horse trailer just in the nick of time to make the turn. It had only been a few days since she’d last been here, but she’d already forgotten where the store was.

  Recognizing that she was once again lost, Sawyer guided her to a public parking lot. They were just about to get out of the car when he remembered her hat and reached into the back seat to get it. He tucked her hair behind her ears and put the hat on her head, sweeping a few more locks under the rim. The sensation of his hands brushing against her skin did something odd to her insides. For a while they both sat there, holding each other’s gaze.

  He bent forward, his eyes darkening as he stared at her lips. She moved closer until th
eir mouths were just a whisper away from each other.

  And then, just like that, he opened his passenger-side door and the moment was lost.

  Neither one said anything as they hiked up the hill to Mill Street. But she thought about what it would’ve been like to feel the pull of Sawyer’s mouth on hers the whole way to the kitchen shop.

  Right before they went inside the store, she adjusted her sunglasses and whispered, “Can you tell it’s me?”

  “If anyone looks close enough, yeah, probably.” His eyes took a slow stroll over her breasts. “Then again—” She kicked him in the shin before he could say more.

  She left him at the door and went in search of the ice cream makers, once again marveling at what a great store it was. Every bit as good as Williams Sonoma or Sur La Table.

  On the second floor she found the appliance section and perused the ice cream machines. The store had everything, from the old-fashioned kinds that you cranked by hand to frozen custard machines. There was even a ChefAid one that made gelato, frozen yogurt, and ice cream.

  Under different circumstances she would have simply called ChefAid and asked them to send her the machine. It was common practice in her profession. Nothing like a little product placement to move merchandise.

  But for now, her show had been canceled. And at the rate things were going she would no longer be affiliated with ChefAid.

  She read the features on the various boxes, trying to decide which one to choose. The Cuisinart appeared to have more bells and whistles then the ChefAid. Yet, she still felt loyal to the brand. Misguided, since they obviously had no loyalty to her.

  Sawyer came up behind her, his lips grazing her ear, nearly knocking her hat off. “What did you find?” His breath felt warm against her cheek and his front pressed against her back, sending tremors down her spine.

  “Uh…which one do you think?” she stammered. It had been a long time since a man had reduced her to a nervous schoolgirl. Even her voice had risen to a high pitch.

  I am so not doing this with him.