Читать книгу Her Rodeo Cowboy - Debra Clopton, Elizabeth Wiseman Mackey, Debra Clopton - Страница 9

“Well, well, hello, Luke Holden. How’s life treatin’ ya?”

Luke grinned at Montana’s perky, playful greeting. They were standing near a fragrant rose bush at Lacy’s. The shadows from the oil lantern cast a soft glow on Montana’s skin—she looked beautiful. “I’m fine, Montana. Life’s fine. I can’t complain. How about you? Enjoying the party?” He’d arrived at the barbecue at the Matlocks’ a little while earlier, and mingled while Montana made the rounds talking with groups of people Lacy had introduced her to. He’d caught her looking at him a few times across the crowd. Something about her drew him, and he got the feeling she was just as curious about him.

She took a sip of sweet tea, watching him with steady blue-green eyes. “The party—it’s good.”

“I agree.” He caught that she didn’t say anything about how life was treating her and he wondered about that. “How’s your riding going?”

“Okay. Murdock’s a little happier with me today. He wants to win, and he knows the problem is me.” “You always this hard on yourself?” “Always.”

Thoughtful eyes held his. He smiled at her. “Seriously, you need to relax.” Man, did she ever. “I saw you laughing a few minutes ago, so I know you can do it.”

She laughed then. “Hey, I do laugh now and then, but I’m dead serious when I say I’m always hard on myself. I expect a lot of me.” She paused and her eyes drilled into him. “I bet you expect a lot of yourself, too.”

“And what gives you that idea?” He liked the way she seemed sure of herself. Sure of her impression of him. He wondered if she was that sure of everything in her life.

“Well, you just do. From what I understand, you have a ranch and cattle and livestock. Plus, you have Thunderclap, your prized rodeo bull. You, Mr. Holden, are a busy man who reeks of expectations.”

Had she been asking about him? “I like to keep busy and yes, you’re right, I expect a lot of myself. If I don’t, then who will?”

“Right. Then again, if your dad was anything like mine, he expected plenty from you.”

He gave a derisive grunt. “I can tell you our dads were nothing alike. Mine expected little of me.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Luke didn’t talk about his dad much, and he wasn’t sure why he’d done so now. He’d given her a glimpse into his past that he didn’t like thinking about, much less discussing. “Little, as in nothing. My dad didn’t push me to be anything but a failure.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said sympathetically.

“Hey, low expectations drive some harder than high expectations.” He gave her a teasing smile to throw off the seriousness of his words. “So, what about you? Your dad expect you to be the best barrel racer in the country?”

“Hardly. He expected me to be valuable to the human race, and that had nothing to do with racing around barrels on a horse.”

He grimaced. “Rough. From watching you ride, all I can say is you must have been one rebellious child.”

That made her choke on her tea. He moved toward her and patted her on the back. “Didn’t mean to choke you up.”

“I’m fine,” she said after a second. “But let’s just say neither one of us is doing very well on reading each other’s background.”

“So you weren’t rebellious? I’m shocked.”

That made her eyes twinkle. “I wish. Hardheaded, but not rebellious.” She frowned, crinkling her eyebrows in a cute way. “I can’t say there haven’t been many days that I have deeply regretted my lack of rebelliousness.”

He wasn’t sure if she was teasing or serious.

She winked at him. “But I’m making up for it now.”

That had him even more curious than ever about what was going on behind her pretty eyes. Before he could dig a little deeper, Esther Mae came walking over. The redhead wore a bright green shirt and matching pants that ended just above her ankles.

“Yoo-hoo! I’m so glad y’all are getting to visit. I told Norma Sue and Adela y’all looked so cute standing over here together that I hated to disturb y’all, but one of the kids said the horses in the stall barn were making all kinds of noise. I thought you might want to go check on your horse, Montana.”

Montana was instantly alert. “I appreciate the heads-up.” She dropped her paper cup in a trash can and was walking down the steps before Luke had time to react.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Luke. Go help her.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed, and he caught the flash of mischief in Esther Mae’s spunky green eyes. Instantly, he shot her friends a glance where they were all huddled up on the lawn. Oh, brother, they were all watching, Lacy included. She grinned and waved, then laughed in delight. So much for subtlety.

He gave Esther Mae a look that said he knew exactly what she was up to, then hurried after Montana. She was already halfway across the yard that separated the main house from the arena and horse stalls. Clint didn’t keep all of his horses in the arena; instead, he kept them in the barn that was on the back side.

The cowgirl obviously didn’t have a clue that she’d just been hoodwinked. Her boots scraped on the gravel as she quickstepped toward the barn. He wondered what her reaction would be to know she’d just been set up. He’d already decided, before the matchmaking effort, that he was going to see if she’d like to go to dinner. Now would be a good time to ask.

The barn was quiet. No sounds of restless horses or anything else for that matter. The arena was a huge covered building with stadium seating on both sides, and a concession stand area and an announcer’s box at the front. There were stock pens both front and back, and an area on the outside connecting them. Murdock was stabled at the front, behind the stock pens and announcer’s box. The huge building was quiet and lonesome in the late evening. Ahead of him, Montana reached Murdock, put her hand to her hip, looking left then right. Murdock gave her a contented snort as she slowly turned on her heel and stared at Luke. Her eyes flashed like glass in the muted overhead lighting. Her eyes narrowed.

“First of all, this area is way too off the beaten path for the kids to have heard any ruckus—unless they’d been back here causing it. Second, I don’t see any signs that Murdock’s been the least bit distressed recently.”

He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his mouth.

“I’d—”

“I’d say,” she broke in before he could begin, “that there’s something fishy in the air.”

“And I’d say you catch on slow,” he drawled, teasing, “but at least you catch on.”

“Oh, so you’ve had it figured out all along, have you?”

“Pretty much. Of course, you were already halfway across the lawn before Esther Mae stopped talking. I got the benefit of spotting Lacy, Adela and Norma Sue along with the little crowd gathered around them, watching us like we were the drive-in movie of the week.”

“That is so not good. I’m going to get my cousin! I love her, but I’m gonna get her good.”

He got the feeling she wouldn’t like it, but the woman was cute, all hot as a firecracker. Looking near to blowing up, she turned in her frustration and began petting the star between Murdock’s eyes—as if the action would calm her nerves.

“Actually, I’d planned on seeing if you’d like to go to dinner Saturday night.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, it hit him that it might not be the best time to ask her out.

Montana’s hand stilled and her gaze shot to his. “No, thanks. It’s nothing personal, but I’m not dating right now.”

She was turning him down. So his timing hadn’t been good, but he knew when a woman was interested. He’d felt the chemistry between them. “It’s not dating. It’s just one date—dinner.”

Montana studied him with unsympathetic eyes. “I’ll tell it to you straight. You and I both know that one date will stir up those ladies out there. I’m not up for that. I’m here to get my head on straight, win a rodeo and help with the baby. Nothing more. I don’t need a bunch of sweet, matchmaking ladies fixing me up with a cowboy … who just happens to be you. Sorry. But no.”

He felt slightly insulted. “They know I’m not looking for anything long-term. I’ve made that clear to them. And every woman I go out with,” he clarified, thinking she’d like that better.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Lots of them, huh?”

That eyebrow didn’t bode well. “What?” he asked warily. “Oh, lots of dates?”

“Lots of women.”

“Um, a few.”

She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, silently assessing him. He felt like a science project.

“I’m sure that knowledge helps you get lots of dates.”

He was confused with where she was going with this conversation. “It doesn’t hurt. I mean, for someone like you I’m not a risk. I’m just a date. Conversation, company. You know, no strings attached.” That didn’t sound good, even to him. What was wrong with him? He scrubbed his jaw, thinking suddenly that crawling under a hay bale might be in order, judging from the appalled expression on her face.

“And it works out well for you? All these different women who don’t want any strings attached.”

Was she teasing him—or was she really irritated by the whole idea? He wasn’t sure anymore. “Yeah, it works out great.”

She grinned sarcastically. “Good for you,” she gushed. “I’ll stick to not jumping into that.” She gave him a pat on the arm, rolled her eyes and headed toward the exit.

He stood there, not sure about what had just happened. “Hey, whoa. Wait up.”

She rounded the corner out of sight, her voice rang out singsong, “I don’t think so.”

The sound echoed in the hall, drawing him. He chuckled and jogged to catch up to her. She was already out in the open and heading up the hill toward the house. Laughter could be heard drifting on the barbecue-scented night air. As if in a hurry to get away from him, she strode with purpose, her boots crunching the gravel as she went, her braid swinging in time to the fast pace.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked, skidding on the gravel, coming up beside her.

She slid him a glance. “I don’t want to give anyone the idea that you and I lingered in the barn for romantic reasons. That wouldn’t be good.”

He grinned. The woman tickled him. She was so blunt about things. “No, I guess that wouldn’t be good. Might get rumors started, and boy, we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

“No way.” She didn’t smile, but he thought she was teasing. “I certainly wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was joining your string of random dates.”

What did women expect from a guy these days? Just because he wasn’t interested in marriage didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in women. “There’s nothing wrong with not settling down. Not being ready for forever.” He shifted from one boot to the other.

She hiked a brow. “It’s random and cheap.”

Her attitude irritated him suddenly. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. Hadn’t done anything wrong, he reiterated to himself strongly, as she started walking off again.

He followed her, not real happy about the situation but not certain what he wanted to do about it.

The party was in full swing when they reached the backyard. Montana clomped up the deck steps. Distracted by his irritation, he was intent on following her just as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Luke,” Erica said, nothing nice dripping from her words.

“Erica. Um, hi.” She didn’t look happy. Nope, matter of fact, she looked really unhappy—throw things unhappy. He hadn’t expected to see her. But he should have known Lacy wouldn’t have left her out of the party.

Montana turned back toward him and met his gaze before connecting with Erica’s.

“What are you looking at?” Erica snapped at Montana, right before throwing her soda at him!

Yup, throw things unhappy was about right. One minute he was standing there irritated and confused by Montana’s attitude. Now, he was drenched with the contents from Erica’s tall glass of Texas sweet tea!

“What?” he gasped, blinking through the tea dripping from his eyelashes.

“You two-timing jerk!” Erica huffed, then strode past him, shooting a glare over her shoulder—as if he hadn’t already gotten the message.

“Two-timing …” he stuttered. He was well aware that everyone within earshot had heard and witnessed the scene. “We just went on two dates. Just dates,” he said, looking at Montana.

A twitch of her lips told him she was fighting off laughter. “Yeah,” she managed. “Looks like all that dating is working out well for you, huh?” She winked at him, then strode into the house, leaving him dripping on the deck.

“Everybody’s a comedian,” he muttered. It was time to have a serious—and he meant serious—talk with Erica. He was not the marrying type. Never was and most likely never would be.