Читать книгу Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride - Wendy Warren - Страница 13

YOU’RE NOT MARRIED. Kade had no idea why he’d said that, but it was true. He was glad Libby wasn’t married. That didn’t mean he thought he had a chance with her—it had been a flat-ass stupid thing to say and now she had her back up again, just when it had looked as if they might be on the healing road.

But deep down, maybe he wanted her to have her back up. Maybe he preferred that to indifference.

No maybe about it. He did prefer it to indifference.

Well, Libby had been anything but indifferent when she left today. She’d been steamed and had left no illusions to the contrary. It had taken her almost three minutes to unload her horse from his trailer, load the mare into her own and drive away.

And as he thought about it, Kade realized he wasn’t all that unhappy about saying what he’d said. Sometimes a guy had to speak from the heart.

YOU’RE NOT MARRIED.

One whole day had passed and Libby was still pissed off that Kade had said such a thing. She frowned down at the industrial-gray floor tiles in the break room.

“Ahem.” Stephen got up from the long table where he’d been eating his lunch and tossed his wadded-up paper bag in the trash. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem, oh, I don’t know, preoccupied?”

Libby frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“You’ve been standing there stirring your coffee for about five minutes, staring at the floor.”

“So?”

He pointed at her cup. “You didn’t put anything in your coffee to stir.”

Libby looked down. Sure enough. No creamer. “Old habits,” she said, gamely sipping the coffee black and somehow managing not to make a face. She hated coffee without cream.

“You gave up creamer?” Stephen asked dubiously.

“Too much palm oil.”

“Right.” Stephen boosted himself onto the counter, the backs of his boots clunking on the cabinet doors.

Libby gave him a narrow-eyed appraisal. “I’ll bet there’s something in the rule book about that. I just can’t believe having your butt on the counter is correct protocol.”

“Yeah? Well, Queenie can—”

A door opened and closed out in the hall and Stephen’s mouth snapped shut. Libby smirked at him as he got off the counter.

“On second thought, it’s not worth crossing her.”

“I hear you,” Libby said, although she believed that crossing Ellen was inevitable. “I’ve got a few more items to finish up on my report.”

When Libby started down the hall, Ellen was coming back down the hall from the copy room.

“Did you enjoy your weekend, Libby?”

“It was great,” Libby said before walking into her office and shutting the door, something she’d rarely done when Glen had been her boss.

She brought up her word-processing screen, put her hands on the keyboard and stared at the computer, her concentration shot because of Ellen’s inquiry.

Oh, yeah. Her weekend had been great—right up until they’d found Blue injured and limping behind his herd. And then Kade had had to top things off by making that comment. She’d give him this—he had balls. To say something like that after what he’d done … She’d never questioned his integrity when they’d been together, and it had ripped her world apart when she found he’d slept with another woman.

And truthfully, she’d been devastated almost as much by her own naiveté and blindness as by his screwing around. She’d felt foolish. So the bottom line was that she couldn’t trust him, and she couldn’t trust her own judgment. What kind of a basis was that for anything?

“ARE THERE ANY KIDS around where you live?” Maddie asked when Kade called to make plans for her next visit, which was coming up soon.

Kade hadn’t thought about that. Of course Maddie would want to play with other kids. Jason and Kira had a year-old baby boy, Matt, but that wasn’t what Maddie had in mind.

“I’m sure there’re some kids here.”

“With horses?”

“I’ll, uh, have to ask around.”

So he did. He didn’t find any kids with horses, but he learned there was a weekend craft class at the public library and a family swim at the community pool. Both good places to meet other kids. He signed Maddie up for the next class, which was lanyard braiding, paying the small fee. He didn’t know who had kids and who didn’t, so he also called the woman who’d run the 4-H program back when he’d been in it and found out she was still in charge. Maddie couldn’t join a club, but she could attend the local horse group as a guest.

Three for three. Kade went home feeling like a real dad. And he actually had the house to the point where they could stay in it if she wanted to, although he had a feeling she’d want to stay in the trailer. If she ever wanted to become a rodeo rider, she was more than prepared for the lifestyle—news that wouldn’t exactly thrill her mother.

The phone rang that afternoon and Kade assumed he’d be passing good news along to Maddie, but instead, he received an invitation to an afternoon soiree Joe Barton was holding, along with a request to bring Joe’s three colts with him—if he wouldn’t mind. Kade didn’t mind. Some time away from the house would be welcome.

“I’d like to have you meet some people and firm up a few things.”

“Sure,” Kade said. “Uh … how dressy is this event?”

“Wear your regular clothes. Jeans. Boots. Hat. It’s very casual. I might have you put that Appaloosa through his paces. I have a potential buyer.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

THE BOGGY FLAT RANCH had a new sign arching over the entryway, announcing it as the Zephyr Valley ranch. Intricate silhouettes of cattle and cowboys on horseback adorned the top of the iron arch. It gave an excellent first impression and Kade had a feeling that first impressions were important to Joe Barton.

As Kade drove to the formerly run-down main ranch, he could see that more changes were in progress. A pivot was irrigating land that had lain fallow for a long, long time, and a nice herd of Angus grazed in the upper pasture. He knew from their last ride together that Barton was champing at the bit, wanting to get more cattle out on the allotments. He was ticked off that some of the other ranches had been allowed more animals than he’d been allowed, and when Kade had explained that it had more to do with the condition of the range than anything else, Barton had made a disparaging remark.

Kade honestly couldn’t decide how he felt about the guy. In some respects, he really liked him, enjoyed riding with him and talking to him about life. Every now and again it made him think about how he and his father should have been.

But then the hard-nosed businessman would appear, stubborn about wanting his way regardless, and Kade would keep his mouth shut rather than argue. He was, after all, an employee, and even today, while visiting the ranch, it was more a command performance than friendship. Joe wanted to show off his new colt trainer. And Kade, wanting food on the table and a new floor in the house, went, telling himself it was just business, letting himself be shown off like a prize stallion.

When he drove up, there were people standing on the lawn, holding drinks and talking. Joe came to greet him and signaled to one of his cowboys to unload the colts. The man immediately hopped to.

“Kade, good to see you.” He glanced down at Kade’s belt to see if he’d worn one of his big buckles. Kade hadn’t. It was one thing to wear them for a photo shoot, another to wear them to impress people. The buckles were damned huge and uncomfortable. Instead, he’d worn one of his favorites from a small rodeo he’d competed in before going pro.

Joe accompanied Kade onto the lawn, where he met a legislator, a doctor, two lawyers, a couple of businessmen and several other people who didn’t announce their occupations or social standing. All were dressed in trendy western clothing, the kind most real ranchers and cowboys couldn’t afford. Joe made certain everyone knew that Kade, the only person there wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, including Joe’s cowboys, was a world champ.

“Kade starts my colts,” he announced. “After lunch he’ll show us the three he’s been working with.” The people nodded politely and Kade hoped that Joe didn’t expect him to put on too much of a show.

The conversation turned to ranch animals, and Kade continued to sip his drink and blend into the scenery. Joe was probably disappointed that he wasn’t taking a more active role in the conversation, but he was there, and Joe would have to make do with that.

“You don’t have as many cows as I thought you’d have,” one of the businessmen noted.

“I’ll be getting more,” Joe said, “just as soon as I get the range I need.” Joe nodded at the woman he’d introduced as a lawyer—Jodie something—as if he expected her to do something about it.

“Federal ground is multiple use,” she said coolly, giving Kade a speculative look over the top of her drink. The woman had money written all over her, from the top of her classy blond head to the bottom of her fancy, handmade, red-leather cowboy boots.

“And I’m all for that,” Joe said. “Hunting, recreation vehicles, whatever. I just don’t understand why those damned horses get to graze my allotments all year long, and I pay the price. Why not limit their usage?”

Several people nodded sagely, but not the lawyer. “Wild horses were here before your cows,” she pointed out with a small smile before once again coolly sipping her drink, waiting for a response.

“They’re not wild. They’re feral,” the doctor responded.

“They’re ‘national treasures,’” Joe added sarcastically. His foreman, a genuine wannabe cowboy if Kade had ever seen one, smirked at the comment. Kade drank his overly sugared iced tea and listened to the conversation, thinking how Libby would have livened it up. She would have set them straight on feral versus wild, and just which animals had what rights and why.

And she probably would have mentioned something about people moving in from out of state and then expecting the rules to be changed for them because they were so darned important. He imagined she’d also be wearing those snug jeans she’d had on at the bar and a shirt that showed her curves. While he was imagining, he figured he might as well aim high.

Kade leaned against a newel post and watched the interplay between the guests, wondering how long he’d be able to keep his mouth shut.

For a while, probably. For Maddie. For his fiscal well-being.

“You were a rodeo rider,” the lawyer said as she moved to stand beside him. He caught the scent of a light floral perfume. The same scent Sheri wore.

“I was,” Kade agreed.

“What do rodeo riders do after they retire?”

“Ache a lot.”

She smiled, showing beautiful while teeth. There wasn’t anything about her that wasn’t polished and perfect.

“How do you know Joe?” Kade asked.

“He’s my father.”

Kade was surprised. Apparently the daughter had no qualms about publicly contradicting her father. Like father, like daughter. “So you know him well.” Kade swirled the ice in his glass.

She smiled again. “He’s happy with what you’re doing with the colts.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“If you go into business with him, I think you’ll be quite happy.” She raised her eyebrows significantly. “I think I might be happy, too.”

He glanced down at her hand. Even though her name was not Barton, she wore no ring.

“Divorced,” she said, following his gaze.

Kade refrained from telling her he was single. All his instincts were advising him to tread lightly.

“How about you?” she asked.

“Involved,” he lied, making it easier on both of them.

“That’s not good news.”

He shrugged.

Lunch was served shortly thereafter and then Kade put the colts through their paces, wishing Joe had planned the dog-and-pony show before lunch so he could have gotten out of there sooner. It hadn’t taken long for Kade to figure out that the other guests, perhaps with the exception of Joe’s daughter, considered him to be a subspecies—interesting, perhaps, but not one of them. And they weren’t stingy with the condescending attitudes. Nope. There were plenty of those to go around. But in the end, Kade decided the afternoon had been worthwhile, since two of the men there were interested in buying Barton’s high-priced colts, which made his future employment that much more secure.

“Thanks for coming,” Joe said as he walked with Kade to his truck and trailer, which looked decidedly shabby next to the assortment of fancy pickups and SUVs parked along the fence. The colts were already loaded and ready to go back.

“Thanks for showing me off,” Kade replied.

“Hey,” Joe said, unfazed, “that’s part of being in this business. I thought you were used to being in the public eye.”

“I got tired of it,” Kade said.

“Then why is that agent of yours pursuing endorsements?”

How do you know that?

But Kade knew how. And why. Guys like Barton didn’t become money guys because they were generous and trusting.

“What else have you dug up?”

“You drank your way out of your endorsements, you’ve been sober for more than a year and your chances at getting another endorsement deal are just about nil. You’ve been out of the limelight for too long.”

“Then I’m not much of an asset to you.”

“You’re wrong. The people I plan to sell to want horse expertise and pizzazz. You can provide both.”

“But will I?”

“Yes. I think you will.” He spoke confidently, but not patronizingly. It was more a simple, matter-of-fact statement. “It’ll be a mutually beneficial partnership, Kade.”

Kade nodded. It would be beneficial, but he had his limits. “I don’t want to do any more things like today. Talk me up all you want and I’ll show off the colts, but I won’t do more of this meet-and-greet stuff.”

Joe looked as if he wanted to argue, but he must have sensed that Kade could only be pushed so far.

“Agreed.”

LIBBY WAS WORRIED about her mustangs. She had the definite feeling that political clout would end up being far more powerful than her recommendation, which was to leave the herd at its current size, gathering only when the numbers increased by thirty percent, and that the number of cattle on the allotment should remain the same. She was not changing that recommendation. It was based on two years of data and dead on, whether it was what Ellen wanted to hear or not.

Her injured horse, Cooper, was becoming antsy from being confined in his pen, and he let his impatience be known by getting pushy with Libby when she tried to doctor him.

“Knock it off,” Libby growled when he knocked her sideways for the third time as she worked to tape the bandage into place.

“Need help?”

Libby jumped at the sound of Kade’s voice, then brushed the curls back off her forehead. “I didn’t hear you drive in.”

“The dogs met me.” And the traitors were indeed glued to his sides right now, their eyes trained on Libby.

“I was concentrating on the horse. He wants out of here.”

She continued to work, cursing when the horse bumped her again and the tape doubled back on itself.

“He’s moving better,” Kade agreed.

“Yes. We’re both looking forward to him getting back out on the pasture,” she said as she fought to unstick the layers of tape, then gave up and started with a new piece. She peeled it off successfully and set to work.

Kade watched without saying a word, making her a zillion times more aware of him than she should have been.

“So,” Libby finally said, shoving her hair back from her forehead again as she straightened and wishing she’d pulled it back with a rubber band, “what brings you here?”

“I have questions. Professional ones.”

Her taut muscles relaxed slightly. “Shoot.”

“I’ve been talking to Joe Barton. He seems to think the BLM will be gathering mustangs near his allotments.”

“I don’t think so,” Libby said in an insulted tone. “If they are, it’s news to me.” Damn it. What was Ellen up to now?

“Okay, then, hypothetically, if you ever did gather Blue’s herd, what are the chances of him being put up for adoption?”

And then she understood. He wanted Blue. She wished she had a more positive answer than the one she was about to give him. “An older stallion? Not good.” She let herself out of the pen, even though she was tempted to keep some metal between the two of them.

“Even though he’s infirm?”

“Even less likely.” Libby slipped the ring of tape over her wrist like a bracelet, then closed up the vet kit and stowed it against the wall. She started out of the barn and Kade followed, closing the door behind him. Libby purposely kept walking toward Kade’s truck. He might be there to get answers, but there was no reason he couldn’t be on his way once he got them.

“Let’s say there’s someone who’ll give him a home, like, say, me.”

Libby let out a sigh. “If I make specific recommendations as to mustang adoption, even if they make sense, the powers that be won’t listen to them. There was a scandal a few years back, with federal employees earmarking the best horses for friends and relatives to adopt. Anything that even hints at that is frowned upon. And let me tell you, my new boss hates me, so anything I suggest that’s out of the ordinary is sure to be shot down.”

“Your outfit doesn’t make things easy, does it?”

“Protocol,” Libby muttered. “New sheriff in town and she ain’t friendly.”

“I see.” Kade shoved his thumbs in his front pockets. “I want Blue back. He won’t make it through next winter, the shape he’s in.” Kade was wearing that stubborn expression again.

Libby gave him a hard look. “You aren’t thinking of doing something dumb, are you?”

“Like?”

“Robbing a government herd.”

He cocked his head. “It’s not robbing if you own the animal.”

“It is if you can’t prove he’s yours.”

“Worried about me?” he asked softly, his gaze sliding to her lips.

“Yeah,” she said sardonically. “Because if they locked you up, I might never see you again.”

“Libby.” he said in that same low voice, not at all deterred by her sarcasm. Her name came out like a caress.

“Damn it, Kade. Stop it.”

He pulled his gaze back to her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

And she was sorry that he was giving her that look, the one that used to make her insides go liquid. “That’s great, Kade. But it doesn’t make it all better.”

“If I go and get Blue, will you turn me in?”

The quick change of topic threw her off balance. “Maybe.”

He took a step closer. “No, you won’t.”

Libby raised her chin. “How do you know?”

He took her face in his warm, work-roughened hands and, heaven help her, Libby did not take that important step back. The one she had to take if she wanted to keep their relationship the way it was. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her. Slowly. Deeply.

It felt so familiar, so welcome, so hot, that it was a few seconds before Libby shoved against his chest, knocking him back against his truck. She spun around and stalked to the house without a word, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she went. Erasing the sensation.

The rest of the evening was shot and Libby eventually gave up and went to bed early. To her lonely bed. She was tired of being alone. And Kade was not the answer.

LIBBY MET SAM after work on Friday night for their dinner date. Since he’d just come off an emergency call, his blond hair was rumpled and he wore jeans and a plaid shirt. She wore her field khakis and a black T-shirt. They made a striking couple when they walked into the Supper Club, Wesley’s finest dining facility, because they were the most underdressed couple there.

Over drinks, Sam told her vet stories, which Libby always found entertaining since she understood animals almost as well as, and in some ways better than, he did. The restaurant started to fill up after their main course arrived, and Libby was glad they’d opted to go out early.

“You never told me you were friends with Kade Danning,” Sam said.

Libby stared at him over what had been a fairly decent steak—until then.

“I guess I didn’t see any reason to.” Sam, who was normally quite intelligent, didn’t take the hint.

“I used to love to watch him ride.”

“He was good,” Libby said, picking up her glass of water, sipping.

“I thought it was a shame, what happened to him.”

“You mean when that horse almost did him in?”