Читать книгу Her Unforgettable Cowboy - Debra Clopton, Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey, Debra Clopton - Страница 12

Chapter Four

A little unhinged by her afternoon, Jolie headed straight for the Spotted Cow Café to see her longtime friend Ms. Jo. The café was in its mid-afternoon lull when she walked through the lemon pie–yellow door. She was immediately greeted by the moo of the four-foot toy cow just inside the entrance. The cow’s hide had bare spots on it from years of kids petting it, but it mooed like a newborn bawling after its mama.

Jolie had good memories in this diner.

The soft buttery walls were covered with all manner of spotted-cow gifts from customers: knickknacks, cattle horns and mooing cow clocks were everywhere. It was a unique place, to say the least. Even the buffed-concrete floor was painted with large, irregularly shaped brown spots. They were supposed to represent the hide of a spotted cow but had come out looking more like cow patties, which was why Chili Crump and Drewbaker Macintosh, a couple of the old-time locals, nicknamed the diner the Cow Patty Café. Needless to say, that made Ms. Jo furious.

Jolie headed for the old-fashioned soda fountain at the back and her mouth began to water the instant the glass case of frothy pies came into view. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day.

Pie sounded like the perfect meal after the day she’d had.

“That’ll make you fat,” Edwina, the longtime waitress, warned, hustling out of the back carrying plates of hamburgers and fries. She paused to give Jolie a lopsided grin. “But it’s worth every calorie and more. You can tell by my hips that I partake of a bite every chance I can get.”

Jolie chuckled. Edwina was a character who’d worked for Ms. Jo for years. Skin as tough as boot leather and a personality to match, Edwina loved to tell tall tales. Rough as she was, she was part of the atmosphere and as dependable as all the cow clocks put together.

“You here to see Ms. Jo?” she asked. “She’s armpit-high in pie crust—okay, so her armpits aren’t involved, but she is in the pie dough, if you want to find her.”

Jolie grinned. “Thanks, Ed. You keeping the cowboys straight today?”

Edwina huffed and headed toward the two cowboys sitting at the window. “Crazy men, I done told them they weren’t welcomed in here but they keep comin’. I know it’s not the food or my winning personality, so it’s got to be my beauty. It’s a curse.”

Chuckling, Jolie headed through the swinging doors. She’d made Ms. Jo mad when she’d first arrived in town and only taken time to get checked in at the Dew Drop Inn before heading out to see Randolph. She’d known Harvey, the front-desk clerk, would have it all over town that she was back. By the time Jolie had come in yesterday afternoon, Ms. Jo had been told and was not happy that Jolie hadn’t come by to see her. She was probably still a little peeved about it today.

Walking through the curtain into the large, spotless kitchen, Jolie waved at T-Bone, their cook, as she passed the grill and went back to the baking area. Ms. Jo, a compact little gal with short brown hair curled around her ears, worked the dough with a pie roller. Her alert hazel eyes locked onto Jolie as she entered the room.

“I know that look,” she quipped, rolling pin wagging at Jolie. “You met up with Morgan, didn’t you?”

Jolie gave a weary nod as it all settled down on her again. Keeping her energy up for the kids had been tough, and she was emotionally drained.

“By the looks of you, it didn’t go so well.” Pointing the rolling pin at the stool by the workstation, she demanded, “Sit down and talk to me.” Heading to the sink, she rinsed her hands under the faucet. “How did Morgan react to seeing you?”

Jolie made circles in a small pile of white flour that was on the counter. “He isn’t happy. At all.”

“What did you expect? Flowers? You did hand him back his ring before hitting the trail for parts unknown.”

“Gee, thanks for the support.”

“You know I love you, but I’m worryin’ you’re fixin’ to get yourself in some hot water.”

“I apologized and he didn’t take it well.” She didn’t go into the fainting episode. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the reaction she’d had to being in his arms.

Shrewd eyes held Jolie’s. “You hurt Morgan when you left. And then, on the rebound, that boy went and almost married Celia Simpson. And she left him right after the rehearsal.” Ms. Jo clucked her tongue. “I’d hate to see you lead Morgan down the wrong road again.”

“I would never do that. Besides, he can barely stand to look at me.”

“You know he’s one of my favorites, Jolie. Kind of reminds me a little of my Clovis. He’s got feelings that run real deep and it’ll take more than words to prove you’re sorry. But maybe working with those boys he loves so much will help.”

Jolie was glad Ms. Jo didn’t tell her it would be easy—they both knew it wouldn’t be. Ms. Jo pulled a pie out of the glass icebox. “How about you and me take a break and have us a piece of this lemon pie with some coffee?”

Jolie sat up at attention. “Do you even have to ask?” She wondered if pie would help erase the feel of Morgan’s arms around her. Her heart went erratic just thinking about how she’d felt snuggled against his heart....

“I think this situation is gonna need a bunch of prayers, too. For those boys’ sakes, we need you two on speaking terms. Y’all don’t have to make up and kiss or anything—goodness knows that would only lead things in the wrong direction. Just bury the hatchet and get it over with.”

“Easier said than done, I think.”

“In all honesty, this could be the best thing for Morgan.” Ms. Jo brightened. “Maybe it’ll help him move forward, find someone who’ll actually go through with marrying him. Seems such a waste for a cowboy of his caliber not to have someone to call his own.”

Jolie put a huge bite of lemon pie on her fork, breathed in the tangy scent and stuffed it in her mouth so she wouldn’t have to say anything.

Because even after all this time, the thought of Morgan and someone else made Jolie want to eat an entire case of pies.

* * *

“How you doing, Morg, my man?” Rowdy asked Sunday afternoon.

Rowdy, Morgan’s younger brother, ran the ranch’s cattle operation and they were sorting the steers for the mugging together. “My boots almost had blowouts when Dad told me what he’d done.”

“You think you had a blowout,” Morgan growled.

Rowdy, who always looked as if he was ready for a good time, with lips that turned up at the edges and eyes shot with mischief, looked as concerned as Morgan had ever seen him. “So how did it go? The boys about talked my ear off at lunch. They’re impressed, just in case you didn’t know that.”

“Thanks, I picked up on that all by myself when their jaws started dragging in the dirt. And Wes and Joseph started showing off their muscles.”

Rowdy’s lips twitched. “Should make for a good show tonight. But how are you?”

Morgan rested a boot on the bottom rung of the arena and studied the steers closely. “How do you think? I don’t have a choice but to deal with it.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” Rowdy hiked a shoulder. “You don’t date, Morg. You act like you’re married to the school. You have unfinished business and it’s time to finish it, one way or the other.”

Morgan grunted and kept his mouth shut.

“Would you look at that?” Rowdy whistled over the bellowing of cattle. “Pest is lookin’ good.”

Morgan turned to see Jolie hopping from her Jeep.

“Yeah,” he snapped. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Rowdy chuckled, crossed his arms and leaned back against the corral to watch Jolie. Morgan shot him a glare, not fond of that glint in his brother’s eyes.

“I thought you said you were all right,” Rowdy said.

“I’m not in the mood, Rowdy.”

“Touché. Don’t get me wrong, I’m on your side. You got a real raw deal, but maybe that was all she had to give you at the time. Like I said, this could be a good thing.”

“Maybe I don’t want to discuss this right now.”

Rowdy chuckled. “Like I said, touché. Got to go get myself a hug.” Pushing off the fence, he strode toward Jolie, who had stopped to talk to their dad. Tucker, the eldest of the McDermott boys, was the county sheriff. He’d been talking with Nana, and now they all headed Jolie’s way.

Morgan scrubbed his scratchy jaw—it had been a long night delivering a new foal, he hadn’t had much sleep and this morning he’d missed church. He was not in the mood for this.

“Hey, pest,” Rowdy drawled, using his pet name for Jolie. “You’re looking good, but a little on the thin side. You not eating out there, making all that money having your picture taken in that yellow banana of yours?”

“Rowdy!” Jolie exclaimed. Rowdy laid an arm across her shoulders and hugged her as if she was his long-lost friend.

“Jolie.” Tucker greeted her with a hug, too.

Morgan almost got lockjaw, grinding his molars watching, his dad grinning as though he’d just reunited the family.

Ten thousand acres of West Texas ranch lands suddenly didn’t feel big enough. This “reunion” was enough to make a man ride off into the sunset and never look back.

“Hey, Morgan.” Chet, one of the top hands, called from the cattle pens on the far side of the barn. “Got a sec?”

A couple of years younger than he was, Chet had grown up on the ranch as a foster kid and had stayed on. Like the other fifteen cowboys who worked for the ranch, he knew Morgan’s history with Jolie...and Celia. There had been no teasing so far, and that fact alone told him they all thought he was on shaky ground now that Jolie was back.

It was embarrassing.

“I hear you fainted yesterday,” his dad said as Morgan hit the fast track across the corral toward Chet.

He’d had Jolie’s fainting spell on his mind since it had happened. Something was up with her, and he figured the last place she needed to be was running up and down this arena trying to throw a yearling on its back with her bare hands. Of course she lived in a world where she took her life in her hands every time she got into that kayak of hers and plowed through raging white water and over ridiculous waterfalls that weren’t meant for humans to fall over, much less charge over on purpose.

And to think he’d been the one to introduce her to it. Little had he known she would fall for it and become one of the best. When he’d taken her kayaking as a kid, it had been slow, easy river runs, nothing life-threatening—

He stopped his thoughts in their tracks.

Jolie wasn’t his concern anymore—hadn’t been since the day she’d walked away, choosing kayaking over him.

“What’s up?” he growled, reaching Chet.

Nudging his Stetson off his forehead, Chet met Morgan’s look with frank brown eyes. “Thought the love and admiration was about to start piling up knee-deep to a giraffe over there,” he drawled sarcastically, then pointed at one of the steers. “This ’un here’s got a bad leg. Thought you’d want to pull it from the event.”

That was no-nonsense Chet. Said what he wanted and moved on. Morgan almost grinned. Chet wasn’t one to get in another person’s business—giving him his support by saying what he just had meant a lot to Morgan.

Morgan studied the limping steer. “Yeah, take him out.”

“Will do, boss.” Chet nodded to one of the other cowboys working the gate to open it up. He and Morgan flanked the steer to send him through the gate, and one of the other cowboys herded him toward a separate pen.

“Time to get ready for some fun.”

Chet nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Watching him head off to gather the men, Morgan knew Chet had his back. That was more than he could say about his own family. Although maybe his brothers’ affection for Jolie could come in handy. She might not want to tell him about the fainting episode, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell Rowdy or Tucker. Regardless, Morgan was determined to find out what was going on, whether Jolie wanted him to or not.