Josh (18 page)

J
osh kept his arm firmly around Sierra’s shoulders as he made his way unerringly toward the barn. Once there he led her through the open doorway and paused just inside the dim, cavernous building, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

He drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to her temple. “That was the longest walk of my life.”

Laughing, she lifted her face to him, brushing her mouth over his. “It was the same for me.”

“That’s a relief. I’m glad these feelings aren’t one-sided. Now let me…” His big hands were just framing her face when he heard his father’s voice from a nearby stall.

“Well, you two. Just in time. I was thinking about looking for you.” He gave a final pat to his horse and stepped out of the stall, closing the door behind him.

“What for?” Josh lifted his face. A face that was now as dark as thundercloud.

Sierra’s look was equally frustrated.

“Thought I’d head into town and have a couple of beers with the boys at the Watering Hole. No sense letting them have all the fun.”

“You go ahead, Pa. Enjoy the night.”

Cole wasn’t about to be dismissed so lightly. “Now son, I was hoping you’d agree to be my designated driver.”

Josh gave a sigh of disgust. How could he possibly refuse such a request? His father asked so little of his sons. And though Cole wasn’t much of a drinking man, he was wise enough to take along a driver if he thought he’d need one.

Josh looked down into Sierra’s face and thought about refusing. This wasn’t just an inconvenience; it was a real sacrifice. “I guess, if you really need me…”

“I’ll go, too.” Sierra squeezed his hand.

“You don’t have to,” Cole warned. “This could prove to be a long, rowdy night.”

“Really?” She gave a delighted laugh. “Well then, that settles it. I have to go along, just so the two of you don’t have all the fun.”

“Good girl.” Cole stepped between Josh and Sierra, looping his arms through theirs. “We’ll have us some kind of fun, all right.”

As he led them from the barn, Josh nearly groaned aloud.

He’d been this close to heaven. And now, instead of a night to remember, he’d been suckered into babysitting his dear old dad.

The little town of Paintbrush was hopping. Cars, trucks, and vans were parked up and down the main street,
and spilling over into the public parking area behind the courthouse and even into the Paintbrush church’s parking area.

To take advantage of all the potential customers, Flora had added tables and chairs on a little patch of concrete outside the door of her diner. Inside and out, every table and chair was filled, and Dora was being assisted in serving by two of her nieces, who were flirting shamelessly with the customers.

Farther down the street, the Watering Hole, the ancient Paintbrush saloon, was nearly bursting at the seams with thirsty cowboys.

Josh pulled up at the curb and deposited his father and Sierra, before driving on to find a parking space behind Dr. April Walton’s clinic.

When he stepped into the saloon a few minutes later, the twang of country music had been amped up so it could be heard above the chorus of voices. The familiar chest-thumping, heart-stomping sound rolled over him in waves.

He looked around and found Cole and Sierra seated at a table in the middle of the room. As he attempted to thread his way between clusters of cowboys talking, laughing, and swearing, he was forced to stop and exchange greetings with all of them. He edged between tables big enough for four but now filled with six, eight, or more, all frisky cowboys with eager young women from town seated on their laps or draped around them. Judging by the beers that littered the tabletops, none of them would go home thirsty. And he doubted that any of them would go home alone.

“About time you got here.” Cole shoved a longneck toward Josh as he took a seat beside Sierra.

“I’m driving, remember?” Josh slid the bottle toward Sierra and signaled the waitress over. After ordering a tall iced tea, he sat back and stared around at the crowd.

“Looks like a lot of happy people here,” Sierra remarked.

“They won’t be so happy in the morning.” Josh winked at her. “Let me rephrase that. Some of them will be very happy, especially all those wives waiting for their long-absent husbands.”

“Not to mention their husbands’ paychecks,” Cole muttered.

Josh nodded. “But a lot more of these customers will be nursing hangovers for the next week.”

“Ouch.” Sierra laughed and sipped her longneck. “I guess I’ll switch to what you’re drinking after this one.”

“Speaking of which…” Cole signaled the waitress and ordered another beer.

When he looked at Sierra she shook her head. “One’s my limit.”

He smiled. “Me, too. Except for tonight. We’re celebrating.” He accepted another beer from the waitress and drank nearly half the bottle in one long chug before turning to Sierra. “What did you think of your first roundup?”

“I loved it. It was everything I’d ever thought it would be. The sea of cattle. The wranglers keeping the strays in line. The horses working with their riders like a team.” In her excitement she placed a hand over Cole’s. “I still can’t believe I got to witness it up close. And all thanks to you.”

He closed his other hand over hers. “I can see that it really meant a lot to you.”

“It was like a dream come true. Like something out of a movie. I couldn’t believe I was really there, experiencing it in the flesh.”

He glanced over at Josh. “You know who Sierra reminds me of?”

Josh arched a brow.

“Your mother.” He turned to Sierra. “You would have loved my Seraphine.”

“I’m sure I would. Tell me about her.”

That was all the encouragement Cole needed. That, and the beer he’d already consumed.

He sat back, long legs stretched out, his eyes warm with memories. “She was tall, slim, with this fantastic long hair that would be blonde one day, black the next, and red a day later. I loved being surprised by her. No matter what color she dyed it, she was a real knockout.” Cole shook his head. “Of course, Big Jim warned me that we were all wrong for each other, and he was right. I was a cowboy, all rough edges, fresh off the range. She was city born and bred, touring with a dance troupe. I took one look at her and I was a goner. I mean head-over-heels gone. And I guess I caught her in a weak moment. She was sick and tired of touring from town to town, living like a gypsy, she called it, and the thought of settling down on a big Wyoming ranch, far away from people, sounded like her idea of heaven.” He laughed. “Until she got a taste of the isolation.”

“She didn’t like living on your ranch?”

“On the one hand, she loved it. And once Quinn was born, she seemed to settle in well enough. After two more sons, I was the happiest man on earth, but there she was, surrounded by all those men. She was this gorgeous,
prissy girly-girl who loved expensive perfume and fancy cocktails. She never seemed to know just where she fit into the rough-and-tumble lifestyle of a rancher’s wife. I suggested that she learn to drive, so she could go into town and make some friends. She refused. So I tried to persuade her to join me and the boys in the barn, or go riding with us up into the hills, but she wanted no part of it. And no part of homemaking chores either. She left them to Ela.”

“Really? What did she do all day?”

That had Cole glancing at his son before throwing back his head and roaring with laughter. “What didn’t she do? She put on plays and dances for her sons. Read them endless books, and played her classical records for them, day and night. I don’t think my boys ever fell asleep to anything but Beethoven and Bach when they were little buckaroos. When they were really little, she colored with them. Later she switched them to paint and canvas. If it was highbrow, my Seraphine loved it. If it was plain old country, she just didn’t relate.”

“It doesn’t sound as though you were unhappy with that.”

“Girl, I was so damned happy with my Seraphine. She didn’t need to muck stalls or ride horses to own my heart. If she wanted to wear a tutu and dance across the hills, that was fine with me. No matter how different our worlds were, when we came together at the end of the day, we both knew without question that we were meant to be together for all time. For all time…”

His voice trailed off. He fell silent and stared hard at the table, lost in thought.

Sierra thought about how startled she’d been when
Josh told her that his mother had just disappeared one day, never to be seen again.

“It must be a terrible jolt whenever you realize she’s really gone.”

When Cole made no response, she glanced at Josh, wishing she could take back her words. Now they lay between them, adding to Cole’s burden.

She could see the pain mirrored in Josh’s eyes. Not only for himself and his loss, but for the father he adored and the loss that could never be explained or eased.

It was the sort of pain and loss that Sierra couldn’t even imagine.

She knew, in that moment, that her own troubles with her parents, and the pain they inflicted on their only child by their careless choices, were nothing compared with the loss the Conway family had suffered and continued to suffer every day. A loss that couldn’t be explained. A pain that was endless.

If only she knew how to distract them from their dark thoughts.

Just then a big hand clamped over Cole’s shoulder. He looked up to see a grizzled old cowboy grinning down at him.

“Hey, Chester.” With an effort, Cole pulled himself back from his painful memories, forcing a smile. “Where’ve you been keeping yourself?”

“Got a job at the Randall ranch. Sorry I couldn’t lend a hand with the roundup this year.”

“That’s okay.” Cole nodded toward Sierra. “Chester, this young lady is a guest of ours. Sierra Moore, Chester Coggins.”

“Hi, Chester.”

The old man snatched his hat from his head and blushed to the tips of his ears before offering a handshake. “Ma’am.”

“Come on, Chester.” Cole indicated a chair. “Join us for a beer.”

“I will if you’re buying.”

“I am.”

As the old cowboy pulled out a chair, Cole looked over at his son. “Why don’t you and Sierra go out there and dance while we reminisce over old times?”

Josh grinned and held out his hand to Sierra. “What Pa’s saying is that he and Chester want to be free to enjoy their man talk and cuss without apology. Come on. We’ll give them some space.”

As they walked toward the small wooden dance floor crowded with swaying couples, the two men lifted their beers and bent close so they hear each other over the throb of twanging guitars.

The music had switched to something slow and bluesy.

Josh gathered Sierra close and found, because of the crush of bodies around them, that he could do little more than sway to the rhythm.

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I think I like this better than dancing.”

She lifted her face to him and smiled.

Though their lips weren’t touching, he could almost taste her. “I’m sorry Pa came along and spoiled the great seduction I’d planned.”

“I’m sorry, too. If you hadn’t planned a seduction, I planned on seducing you.”

“Yeah?” A slow grin touched his lips.

“Oh yeah, cowboy. But it’s hard to be offended when your dad’s such a sweet man.”

Josh grinned. “Now that’s a word I haven’t heard anybody else use to describe Cole Conway. Tough, rowdy, hard-nosed. Those are words usually reserved for Pa. But not sweet.”

“Then they just don’t see him the way I do. He almost had me in tears.”

“Yeah. I think you should know something. Pa never talks about his loss. Not to us. Not to anybody. The only way he’s managed to cope all these years is by holding it all inside. So when he started telling you that you reminded him of his Seraphine, I couldn’t believe my ears.”

“Really?” Sierra brows drew together in a frown. “I was feeling so terrible because I’d opened up his obviously painful wound.”

“Yeah. The pain is real.” Josh swallowed. “For all of us.”

“I’m so sorry, Josh.” Sierra lifted a hand to his cheek.

He closed a hand over hers and looked into her eyes. “Watching the two of you”—he shook his head in disbelief—“I could see just how comfortable Pa is with you. You got him to open up in a way I’ve never seen before. If Chester hadn’t come along, there’s no way of knowing what else he might have told you.”

She lifted a finger to still his words. “Maybe Chester’s arrival was a blessing in disguise. I saw your eyes when he was describing your mother. You were feeling the pain as deeply as he was.”

At the press of her finger to his mouth he felt his body react. It was the sweetest torture to hold her like this,
swaying softly to the music, knowing that if they’d only waited a few minutes longer, or refused Cole’s invitation to come to town, they could be lying in the soft hay right now, indulging all their fantasies.

He wanted her. Wanted her with every fiber of his being.

To lighten the mood he said, “There must be something in the air here. First Big Jim, and now my father. I think they’ve both been bitten by the same kind of love bug that—”

Josh stopped swaying and went very still. He could feel a tingling at the nape of his neck and between his shoulder blades, as though someone were staring daggers through him.

He deftly turned Sierra so that he could have a better view of the entire room. He studied the faces of the men at the bar and swept the crowded tables, but he couldn’t see anyone staring directly at him.

Still, the feeling persisted. It was time to head back to the ranch.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sierra shot him a puzzled frown. “Josh, where did you go just then?”

He shrugged. “Just a feeling.” He smiled down at her. “Sorry. Now about that love bug…” He lowered his face to hers and brushed his mouth over hers. “I just felt something bite me. Quick. Let’s get back to the table and see if Pa’s ready to go.”

They were both laughing with delight as they returned to where Cole was seated.

Sebastian sat on the bar stool, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low on his forehead. In faded denims and plaid
shirt, he managed to look like just another cowboy celebrating roundup.