Читать книгу Her Rodeo Cowboy - Debra Clopton, Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey, Debra Clopton - Страница 8

“How’s my little Tater-poo?” Montana cooed, taking Tate from Lacy. The six-month-old was all cuddly and warm. “He’s getting to be a hunk.”

“Tell me about it.” Lacy handed over the bottle that she’d been feeding him. “He eats like his daddy, don’t cha, little man?”

“Hey, he’s a growing boy.”

“So true! You finish feeding my sugar pie while I get the rest of my grocery list made out. Guess I should tell you that we’re having a barbecue this weekend.”

“We are?” Montana settled into the rocker as Tate attacked the bottle with gusto. “Why? What’s the occasion?”

“For you, silly. I want everyone to come meet you, that’s why.”

Montana was startled by this information. “Do you have time for that? I mean, I thought you had a lot of planning to do for the rodeo?”

“Oh, we’ve got that handled,” Lacy said, brushing the thought away with the wave of her pink-tipped fingers. “The matchmaking posse’s got that under control. Things are rolling right along with the rodeo and the festival we’re going to have in conjunction that same weekend. Yep, we’ve got food vendors coming, and Cort and Lilly Wells always head up a petting zoo with their adorable donkey, Samantha. All kinds of fun stuff is getting ready to happen this summer. It’s going to be great,” she said with gusto. “But first we’re having your barbecue.”

A lump formed in Montana’s throat. She loved her cousin. That was all there was to it. She fought to steady her voice. “You know, you’ve really helped me when I needed it the most.”

Lacy’s brilliant blue eyes twinkled as they looked to Montana’s and held. “I was concerned for you. You know God loves you more than I do—though I love you like a sister, and wouldn’t give you up for anything in the world. But it’s true, He does. And I was concerned that you were forgetting that, with all this drama you’re going through. I needed to help you know that.”

That was Lacy, so strong in her faith. “I’m not going through it anymore. If my mother and my dad want to get divorced, that’s their business.” If she said it out loud, then maybe it would be true. The anger she felt over everything that had happened welled up inside of her once more. When would it end?

“You know, Montana, people let you down sometimes. That’s just the way it is. But God never does,” Lacy said, as if reading her thoughts.

Montana knew how strong Lacy’s faith was, but right now she didn’t want to hear about how wonderful God was. She was angry at everyone—including God. “I really don’t want to get into this right now. Is that okay?”

“Sure thing. That’s fine. You’re here to relax and to love my precious baby boy all you want. And to win that rodeo.”

She was ready to talk about something else and grabbed hold. “Poor Murdock is so ramped up. He can feel that we’re getting ready for something. Poor horse has missed the barrels. But he’s doing so well, it’s like he was out in the pasture practicing while I was off at school.”

Montana rubbed her face against Tate’s neck and he grabbed her hair, making her laugh as she disentangled herself from him. One day she was going to have a baby like Tate, and she wasn’t going to make him feel guilty for having dreams different from her own. She was going to love him and help him as he went after those dreams.

“This is ‘the good stuff,’ Lacy.”

“Yes, it is,” Lacy chirped. “I’m so happy, I really, really am. I wish you’d find someone like my Clint.” She grinned mischievously. “But all in God’s timing.”

Montana was happy for her cousin. She and Lacy had always been a lot alike. Neither of them really needed a man to make them happy, and yet, there was no denying that Lacy seemed more content now. “Lacy, honestly, I’m so mad at my dad right now, and his lying, that I don’t even want to think about letting a man in my life.”

“I know, and you have every right to be upset. But I’m praying you’ll get over that. All men don’t lie. Some men happen to pride themselves on being honest, and that’s the kind of man God’s going to send your way.”

Montana gave Lacy a scowl. “He better not send him anytime soon, or it won’t matter. I’m not interested in any man but this little man right here.” She cuddled Tate, burying her face in his chubby neck.

“You, my dear cuz, have good taste. By the way, I saw Luke Holden was here earlier. Did you meet him?”

The cowboy’s image whipped into her mind like a red flag. “Yes,” she said warily.

“Well, what did you think of him? I happen to think he’s a real cutie pie and a real fine man, too.”

Surely she wasn’t thinking … “Lacy, I told you I’m not interested. I’m here to win a rodeo, not a man.”

Lacy stuffed a fist to her hip, her eyes dancing. “Yep, yep, yep,” she sang. “You thought he was cute. I knew it!”

Montana gasped. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. Your refusal to answer my question said it all.”

“Okay, he isn’t hard on the eyes. But don’t go getting any ideas.” The fact that Lacy might be having ideas about her and Luke had Montana’s nerves rattling a bit.

“Oh, I’m not promising anything. I was just checking your pulse.” Lacy smiled mischieviously.

Montana lifted Tate into the air and looked up at his cherub face. “Tell your momma that my pulse is just fine, and you’re the only man I’m gonna be interested in for a good long while.” She shot Lacy a teasing but serious glare. “And I mean that. Got it, cuz?”

“You seen her?”

Luke was sitting at the counter in Sam’s diner, waiting on his breakfast. It was 6:00 a.m. and the crowd hadn’t bombarded the tiny diner yet—but they’d be in at any moment. Applegate Thornton and his buddy Stanley Orr were already glued to the chairs at the window table. It was their usual morning spot to spit sunflower seeds at their spittoon, play checkers and get in on the happenings and business of everyone in town. Today they were starting with him.

Applegate spit two sunflower seed shells into the old brass spittoon then repeated his question again loudly, as if Luke was the one who was hard of hearing instead of he and Stanley.

“Did you see her yet? Montana Brown. Lacy’s cousin.”

Oh, he’d seen her all right. And he’d been thinking about her since. “Yes, sir, I saw her yesterday. She was practicing the barrels out in the arena when I was there going over the stock list. Why?”

App shrugged nonchalantly, looking about as convincing as a little kid trying to sneak a cookie. “I was jest wonderin’. She’s a cute little thang. And a real good rider. We saw her the other day, too. She knows her way around a horse.”

“That’s fer shor.” Stanley paused, coughing as he studied the checkerboard. Not as chipper as usual, he scratched his balding head. The two men were in their seventies and about as hard of hearing as a tree stump. Though it was questionable whether they just had selective hearing, because they kept tabs on everyone’s business.

“Yup,” he continued. “She rode that horse of hers out into that arena like greased lighting. I ain’t never seen a gal ride—” He suddenly paused and jumped his red checker over App’s. “Gotcha, ya old coot.”

App’s frown deepened, making his thin face droop into a ripple of expanding wrinkles. “I was wonderin’ when you was gonna make that move. I wasn’t payin’ attention when I made that thar mistake.”

“Ha, you’re jest gettin’ whupped. As usual.”

App snorted, “I don’t always lose, and you know it.” Ignoring his turn to move, he kept his attention on Luke. “I heard Lacy was throwing a barbecue this weekend in honor of her cousin. You goin’?”

Lacy had called him last night and invited him and any of his brothers who might happen to be in town. She’d sounded excited about the party. He had to admit that he was looking forward to it himself. “Yeah, I’m going. It’ll be nice to help her get to know all of us.”

“You oughtta ask her out,” App continued. “You know, make her feel welcomed and all.”

“That’d shor be nice of ya.” Stanley coughed again, glaring at App. “Times a wastin’, I’m gonna be dead before you start playin’ this here game.”

Taking that as his clue to close the conversation, Luke spun his stool back toward the counter. Sam came out of the back in that moment. His short bowlegs were moving as he hustled through the swinging café doors from the kitchen. He slapped Luke’s plate in front of him. “Eat up, Luke. Yor gonna need yor strength.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, hoping App and Stanley had decided to play checkers instead of delve further into his love life. He’d already been thinking about asking Montana out, but he didn’t need anybody’s help where that was concerned.

Sam gave him a weathered grin. “‘Cause my Adela and the gals are countin’ on them animals of yours to be in tip-top shape. They want them bull riders comin’ in droves fer all the rodeos.” It went unsaid that bull riders and bull riding drew women. That was what “the gals” wanted. The gals being the matchmakers of Mule Hollow, Esther Mae Wilcox, Norma Sue Jenkins and Sam’s wife, Adela Ledbetter Green.

There was no need for them to worry. “I’ve got Thunderclap entered, and his reputation attracts riders. They always do wherever he happens to be.”

“That’s good. Norma Sue and Esther Mae are about ta drive me pure crazy with their planning and carrying on. Adela’s even having trouble keepin’ them corralled. Why, they’re strategizin’ about every kin folk they can think of who might be comin’ fer the rodeos. I’m telling y’all, that little gal Montana Brown’s got a number on her back—and it ain’t her barrel racin’ number, either. So, jest a word of warnin’, in case you ain’t figured that out already. If you ask that one out, you might have a big ole bull’s-eye show up on yor back, too.”

The back of Luke’s neck began to itch. “They’ve tried that a time or two with me, and realized I’m not interested in anything long-term… . You know I’m honest with everyone I go out with about that.”

Not saying anything, Sam poured him another cup of coffee and started to go tend to his other customers. Mornings were busy, and he usually worked them alone, till his help came in around eight. But as busy as he was, he held his position, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Luke.

“It’s true. Ever’body knows you’re a straight shooter on that topic. But—” he grimaced “—from what I hear, that ain’t makin’ at least one person too all-fired happy.”

Luke had a bad feeling he knew where Sam was heading. “What do you mean?”

Sam leaned in close. “I heard tell that thar artist you went out with a time or two ain’t happy at all.”

Erica. He’d been honest with her from the beginning, and had only gone out with her twice. On their second date, she’d started talking about looking for Mr. Right. He shook his head. “Sam, I broke it off with her the instant I realized she was looking for Mr. Right. I don’t do forever. I’d told her I wasn’t looking to be anybody’s Mr. Right. She got all upset anyway, and I didn’t know what to do.” The woman had actually thrown dishes at him for “dropping her,” as she put it. He’d tried to keep his mouth shut, but that hadn’t stopped her from giving him the stink eye whenever she saw him. To keep peace, he’d been trying to steer clear of her, and hoped that soon her anger would blow over.

One thing was certain, they weren’t compatible, and he was more than glad of it. He didn’t like all the drama that came with a woman like that. He’d just missed the signs.

“If you were honest, then you ain’t got nothin’ ta hold yor head down about. Some women are jest plain high-strung. Now, women like my Adela, well, that’s a prize. You jest keep bein’ honest. It’d be a shame fer you ta miss out on love. The posse might jest have ta fix that fer you.”

“Sorry, Sam. Like I said, I know my own mind and if I decide to ask Montana out, everything will be just fine. Don’t you worry about me. Or her. She’ll know right off the bat that I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Sam’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “One of these days, one of them dates is going ta wrap her finger around yor heart, and then you won’t be so cocky about how good you are at walkin’ away.”

Luke took a bite of biscuits and gravy. He wasn’t being cocky. He was being honest. He had plans. Goals. Nothing was getting in his way.

Sam hiked a busy brow. “Yup, that cockiness is gonna be yor downfall. Mark my words, son. Yor time’s a comin’.”