One Fine Cowboy (14 page)

The grizzled man grinned. “I had to take a truck to Dooley over in Lusk, and he had the part. So we don’t have to wait.” He turned to Charlie. “Your ride’s all fixed, ma’am. Ready to go when you are.”

“Great,” Charlie said. A day ago she’d have meant it. But now—now, she didn’t know what to feel.

“So what brings you here?” he asked. “You one of Sandi’s friends?”

Charlie smiled. “No, I’m just a customer,” she said.

“Well, you’re a pretty one. I wouldn’t say you needed any of that Mary Kay stuff, but Sandi could probably convince you to buy something if she was here.”

“Oh, I’m not here for Mary Kay,” she said. “I’m here for Nate.” She blushed—again. What was it about Nate that kept her in a constant state of embarrassment? “I mean…”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Always said he ought to get a stud farm going. But that wasn’t quite what I meant.” Charlie’s blush intensified, but then he laughed, a slow, easy chuckle, and she instantly felt more comfortable. He offered her a calloused, blue-veined hand.

“I’m Ray Givens,” he said. “Sandi’s dad.” He turned to Nate. “Now, what about that bandage for Peach?”

Nate was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, gaping like a grounded trout. “Sam,” he said. “Sam’s here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ray said, as if he’d just remembered something. “Sandi dropped her off. She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Ray sighed. “That girl. I’m sorry, Nate. We raised her to do better.”

“It’s all right,” Nate said, but his lips were drawn into a tight, thin line.

“She needs you to take Sam for a while so she can go to beauty school. In Denver, I guess.”

“Ray, I’m happy to have Sam. Heck, I’m thrilled. I missed her like crazy. But what the hell?” He shook his head. “She just dumps our daughter off like—like baggage?”

“You know how it is, Nate,” the older man said soothingly. “Sandi gets a bug up her butt, there’s no stopping her. I’m sorry. Lord knows, she should treat you better. Sam too.”

There was an awkward silence. Charlie cleared her throat, figuring she might remind them they had strangers horning in on their family issues, but they didn’t seem to notice her.

“So is she coming back?” Nate asked. “Or is this it?”

Ray started to answer, then paused as Charlie cleared her throat again. “Let’s go see about that horse,” he said.

***

Nate pressed his head against Peach’s shoulder and held the mare’s knee in his cupped hands while Ray wrapped a length of purple vet tape around the animal’s pastern. “Don’t know why you keep this animal around,” Ray said. “Sam’s ready for a full-sized horse, and this one’s nothing but trouble anyway. You’re lucky she didn’t get to Junior. You’d have some pretty interesting offspring from that pairing.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Send Peach to auction? You know where she’d end up.”

“Alpo,” Ray said. “The way of all flesh.”

Nate could hear Sam’s piping voice rising and falling out in the corral as she introduced Charlie to the other horses. At least he wouldn’t have to explain anything later. Sam was probably giving her a somewhat skewed version of his life story, but what did it matter? Charlie had her car back. She’d be gone soon. And that was just as well. There was nothing between them. Nothing but sex. Crazy, hot, gotta-have-it sex. Nothing more.

Not to her, anyway.

He felt a ripple of regret. The picture of her pale face resting against the stallion’s dark hide, lips parted, eyes closed in ecstasy, gave way to the image of her naked in his bed. He could still feel this morning’s stolen kiss hot and hard against his lips. She’d been tense, surprised. Not like last night. Last night she’d kissed him like she was dying of thirst and he was the only water for a hundred miles.

Hell, she’d kissed him like she loved him. Or at least, like she maybe could. He pressed his forehead into Peach’s warm flank and squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t matter. She’d be climbing back into that shiny red spaceship of a car any minute now, going back to Planet Jersey.

“So how many customers showed up for the clinic?” Ray asked.

Nate narrowed his eyes. “You knew about that?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I didn’t. You might have warned me.” Nate set the horse’s foot down and rested his arms on the animal’s broad back. “How many of those brochures did Sandi send out?”

“You saying she didn’t tell you about that either?” Ray shook his head. “Shoot. I wondered how she got you to do it. She had a hundred of ’em printed.”

“Well, I guess they didn’t work too well.” Nate patted Peach’s rump and sat down on a nearby hay bale. “We only got three takers.”

“Hmpf.” Ray stood up, brushing the straw from his pants. “Funny. She got four deposits.”

“What?”

“Deposits. She got four of ’em. You’ve probably got another student on the way. The thing doesn’t officially start ’til tomorrow, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Nate said. “I never even saw the damn brochure. You wouldn’t happen to have one, would you?”

Ray pulled a crumpled pamphlet out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Live the Western Adventure at Latigo Ranch,” it proclaimed. It was the same as the one he’d seen in Charlie’s car.

Nate read the description of the various packages offered, then took a look at the rates Sandi had charged. Holy shit. For that kind of money, folks would be expecting miracles and gourmet meals.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, a habit he always turned to when he was nervous.

“What did she do with the money?” he asked.

“How do you think she paid for beauty school?” Ray said.

“You’re kidding me.”

Ray splayed his hands. “I’m sorry, Nate. I keep saying that. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Sorry isn’t going to pay the bills, Ray,” Nate said. “These people are going to want refunds.” He nodded toward the far side of the barn, where Sam and Charlie were absorbed in earnest discussion. “That one already does. She’s been cooking for the whole gang since she got here. Hell, I ought to be paying her, not the other way around.”

“They won’t need a refund if you give ’em what they came for,” Ray said.

Nate folded his arms across his chest and glared at the old man. “I don’t have what they came for.”

“Sure you do.” Ray eased to his feet, and Nate tensed in anticipation of a fatherly lecture. “Sandi just wants you to make something of yourself, Nate. For Sam’s sake. You know you have the skills these people are interested in. All you have to do is take a few hours a day to teach ’em, and they’ll go home happy.”

“I don’t know.” Nate shrugged. “There’s no way Charlie’s going home happy.”

“I don’t know. She looks pretty happy right now.” Ray gestured toward Peach’s stall. Sam was holding up various grooming implements and demonstrating them on Honey. She was apparently explaining the fine art of grooming to Charlie, who was grinning with her head cocked to one side.

Damn. She was good with his horse, good with his kid—and a revelation in his bed. If only things were different.

If only she could stay.

He pictured her in the kitchen, helping Sam bake cookies. In the barn, helping him with the chores. In his bed, helping him… well, just helping him.

Ray spoke and Nate almost dropped the horse’s leg. He’d been lost in thought and pretty much forgotten where he was.

“Sandi’s just trying to give you a push in the right direction, son,” Ray said.

Sandi was giving him a push, all right. She was pushing him away, just like she had for the past seven years. He’d just been too dumb to see it until last night. Charlie made him realize not all women were like Sandi.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “So is Sandi coming back?”

“I guess that depends.”

Nate splayed his hands. “On what? On which way the wind blows? On whether she has a bad hair day? I need to know, Ray.”

“I’d say it probably depends on the clinic,” Ray said. “You do it, and it works out, and maybe Sandi’ll see you’re trying.”

“Trying?” Nate slammed the flat of his hand against the barn wall. “
Trying?
What have I been doing all these years, Ray, but
trying
? This place was a wreck when I took over, you know that. I’ve made something out of almost nothing, and I’ve provided a good home for my daughter. And for her mother too.” He folded his arms across his chest and scowled. “Not that she appreciates it.”

“It’s not the kind of home she wants.”

“It’s a good home. Good for Sam. Maybe it was Sandi who needed to
try
.”

“She has.” Ray knelt and adjusted his pant leg over the top of his boot. “She’s tried for seven years, Nate. I think she figures it’s time to try something new.”

“Well, she’s welcome to it,” Nate said. “Tell her I said ‘good luck.’”

“Give it a chance,” Ray pleaded. “Just do the clinic.”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” Nate said. “But what am I supposed to use for horses?”

“Mustangs,” Ray said. “It’s right there in the brochure, and there’s a sale in Green River on Saturday. You have to admit, Sandi thought this through.”

“All except one important detail, Ray. I don’t have any money—not even enough for adoption fees. She took everything I had.”

“Everything?” Ray looked surprised. It figured. Sandi hadn’t even been straight with her own dad.

“Everything,” Nate said. “Checking, savings—she cleaned it all out. I can barely feed these people. I can barely feed your granddaughter. She took the money that would feed her own child.”

Ray sat down hard on a bale of hay and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, Lord,” he muttered. “That girl.”

He was a decent guy, and Nate knew he must be tired of making excuses for his only daughter. His wife Rhonda was a good woman too. How the two of them had raised a girl as impetuous and difficult as Sandi was a total mystery.

“I’m sorry, son. I didn’t know,” Ray said. “Look, if you want, I’ll buy the horses. We’ll call it an investment.”

“I guess,” Nate said—but he wasn’t sure at this point that he wanted Ray’s help. He’d about made up his mind that the situation was hopeless. Even if he got the money, he wasn’t sure letting greenhorns work with wild horses was a smart thing to do. Somebody could get hurt. He could end up getting sued.

Besides, giving up was starting to sound like a sanctuary—like the only safe port in the storm Sandi had created.

“Let me help, son,” Ray said. “There’s no shame in it.”

Nate nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. First he’d had to ask Charlie to help out. Now he was taking money from Ray. He’d always taken pride in standing on his own two feet, but he couldn’t seem to make this thing work on his own.

He looked over at Charlie just as she glanced his way and flashed him a conspiratorial smile. Maybe having help wasn’t so bad. Maybe the fact that Charlie was working with him was one of the things that made their connection so strong. He and Sandi had been two separate people, with different needs, different visions of the future—but he and Charlie were a team. Partners.

“What do you say, son?” Ray asked.

“Okay,” Nate said. “Thanks.” He took a deep breath. “I could use the help.”

***

“Dad!” Sam flew down the aisle ahead of Charlie, startling Peach and almost upending Ray, who was putting the finishing touches on the bandage. “Charlie and her friends are having a pajama party in the bunkhouse tonight, and I get to go if you say I can. We’re going to paint our nails and talk about boys. Can I? Please?”

Nate ruffled her hair. “You’re too little to talk about boys,” he said, flashing Charlie a dirty look.

“I know. That’s what I said,” Sam said. “But Charlie said we can talk about how they’re stupid and have cooties.”

“Well, in that case…” Nate began.

“Yay! Charlie, I get to go!” Sam did an impromptu jig on the tips of her toes, then settled down and cocked her head, all seriousness. “Is there anything I can bring?”

Charlie suppressed a smile. At least someone had taught the kid some manners. Had to be Sandi, since Nate had all the social graces of a rodeo bull.

“Maybe some snack food,” Charlie said. “You could check and see what’s in the pantry. Maybe you could find chips or something. And salsa. Salsa would be great if you have any.”

Sam ran off to check the snack supply and Charlie grinned at Nate. He gave her an answering smile, and she took a quick step back, almost falling into the feed trough. She could read that smile as clearly as if he’d spoken. He wasn’t smiling about his adorable daughter. He was smiling about her. About the way they were working together, understanding each other.

He was smiling because he was thinking he’d get her back into his bed.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen again. She tossed her head and turned away, hoping he couldn’t see that his intimate smile had damn near sparked an orgasm all on its own.

“Pajama party,” he said. “You going formal again?”

“No,” she turned away, pretending to be absorbed in untangling Peach’s mane. She felt like today’s panties were burning their way through her clothes. They were blue, with big white stars on them. Wonder Woman panties.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “Just—just stop it.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I keep thinking about it. That little tuxedo thing… sorry.”

“What?” Ray rose somewhat creakily to his feet and cupped one ear. “Not as young as I used to be. Did you say something, Nate?”

“Nope. He didn’t,” Charlie said. “Not a thing. What do I owe you for the car?”

Ray shrugged. “Not much. We took that axle off a wreck old Dooley had layin’ around. That kind of car don’t last long around here.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Charlie said. “It’ll get me back to Jersey, right?”

Ray gave the car a sidelong gaze and stroked his chin. “Maybe,” he said. “If you can get as far as Purvis. I barely made it here. She looks good, but she’s creaking and rattling like an old jalopy on these dirt roads. Think you might’a shaken a few other things loose.”

“Great,” Charlie said.

“What year is that thing? A ’78?”

Charlie nodded.

“Well, she’s an old lady then. You stop at the shop before you go. I’ll give her a good once-over, tighten up what’s loose,” he said. “No point doing it now; it’ll just rattle free again on the road to town.”