Hometown Cowboy Read online

  “Can we forget it?” she interrupted. “Please? I’m just emotional. Maybe even a little hormonal this week. You know how it goes.”

  “Uh.” No. He didn’t. He really didn’t.

  “And let’s face it,” she went on. “You’re PDF, so it’s not my fault, exactly.”

  “PDF?” he repeated. He sucked at acronyms. Had to use Google to decode most of Levi’s Facebook posts. He’d never been good with words. PDF…PDF… “Poor dumb fool?”

  Those glistening baby browns rolled. “Pretty. Damn. Fine. Don’t you get out?”

  “Not as much as you would think,” he admitted. Lately he hadn’t gotten out at all. He was supposed to be training his ass off.

  “So you can see how something like that would’ve happened,” she said, lifting her chin again. “The emotions. The whole smoldering cowboy thing you’ve got going on. But I’d really appreciate it if we could forget it. Like, completely erase it from our memories. Because, Lance, I’ve sworn off men. Romance. All of it, really. Gotta shift my focus, you know? Don’t need it messing up my life anymore. So please. This never happened.”

  He’d never enjoyed a woman babbling. Ever. Until today. “Okay. I guess. But—”

  “Nope. See, ‘but’ is a segue back into the same topic we just agreed to forget. As in never mention it; never even remember it. We entered into a verbal agreement, which can be legally binding in the state of Colorado,” she finished, looking quite proud of herself.

  “Can it now?” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement. He’d known Jessa for years. Or at least he’d known about her. To him, she’d always been Buzz Love’s daughter, the gangly girl with the glasses. He thought her to be nice though somewhat shy, maybe even awkward. But they’d never had a real conversation before this morning. She was actually fun to talk to.

  “Yes,” she uttered with a definitive nod. “As a matter of fact it can.”

  “What if I said go ahead and sue me?” He pressed his gaze into hers again. “Because I’m not sure I’ll be able to forget. I didn’t mind you kissing me.”

  She laughed. “Right. You didn’t mind.” The words mocked him. “Your shoulders felt like concrete. And the way you stepped back…I actually thought you were gonna bolt.” But she waved a hand through the air as if it didn’t matter. “Listen, I get it. You’re Lance Cortez. Sort of famous. Rugged. Hot. I’m just Jessa. Normal girl who smells like animals half the time.”

  Not right now she didn’t. Right now she smelled like the vanilla beans Naomi sometimes set around his father’s kitchen. And what was wrong with normal? Kind of refreshing to have a woman say things like they were instead of what she thought he wanted to hear for once.

  “Besides all of that, I’ve sworn off kissing.” She turned away and started to hike again, giving him no choice but to follow.

  “That seems a little extreme.” He kept his eyes focused on the ground so he wouldn’t trip over a rock and look like a dumb ass. “Isn’t there something else you could swear off? Sugar? Chocolate? Alcohol? Seems to me kissing is one of those things that’s actually good for you.” Especially when it led to sex. Weren’t there a bunch of health benefits associated with sex? Sure seemed like it. Not that kissing Jessa would lead to sex. Because how weird would that be? Having sex with this woman who hung out with his father? Who wanted marriage and kids and the whole bit so badly she’d been engaged multiple times? His body didn’t seem to think it would be weird, though. The quick flash of a conjured image was enough to activate the launch sequence. Steam seemed to radiate off his face and cloud the brisk mountain air.

  “Actually, I happen to think alcohol and chocolate are much healthier than kissing. At least in my experience,” Jessa insisted, scrambling to climb over a tall boulder that blocked their path. She moved effortlessly. Her feet and hands knew exactly where to go. While she finessed it, he awkwardly scaled the thing with sheer strength.

  When they’d gotten past the obstacle he slipped in front of her. Wouldn’t be as easy for her to get around him.

  “So that’s it then,” he challenged.

  “That’s it.” Her gaze didn’t waver and he didn’t doubt that she meant it.

  “Oh, wait. Actually, one more thing. I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone else. The girls would kill me if they knew I’d already slipped up and—”

  A shrill whistle cut her off. For a second he thought he’d imagined it, but then it rang out again.

  “Luis,” she whispered, gripping Lance’s coat. “That’s your dad.”

  * * *

  “How do you know it’s him?” Lance jogged alongside her, seeming to be hardly out of breath while she hiccupped and gagged on the thin mountain air.

  “He told me if I ever needed help out here, I should whistle exactly like that,” she sputtered, clutching at the pains needling her chest. And then Luis had said he’d find her. He’d told her if he ever heard that whistle, he’d rescue her. A second wind lifted her head and churned her legs faster. “We have to find him.” Her eyes drank in the endless blue-gray peaks spread all around them. He could be anywhere. Who knew where that whistle had echoed from…

  The shrill sound pierced the air again. They were getting closer. Jessa skidded down a steep section of loose talus, losing her balance and flailing to catch herself.

  Lance held on to her arm. “Take it easy. Don’t need to do two rescues.”

  She ignored him, ripping out of his grip. “He’s in trouble,” she wheezed, her heartbeat throbbing in her temples. Luis was in trouble and he was alone.

  Another whistle veered her to the left. She slowed to pick her way down a boulder-strewn slope. So close. It sounded so close…

  “There!” Lance darted in front of her and pointed toward a huge rounded boulder.

  She strained to see.

  Luis stood near it, still and alert.

  “Are you okay?” blared from her mouth with surprising force, given how she could hardly breathe.

  The man spun and relief whooshed in, filling her lungs, calming that surge of adrenaline. He looked like the same Luis, nothing broken, nothing bleeding. His white hair was bedraggled, but other than that, he seemed fine.

  Lance made it to his father before her. “What the hell, Dad?” Now he did seem to run out of breath. And he looked pale, too. Rattled. Like maybe he’d been as worried as her on their little sprint down here.

  Jessa doubled over to catch her breath.

  “What’s the problem, son?” the man asked, clearly clueless as to how worried they’d been.

  “What’s the problem?” Lance’s tone inched toward a yell.

  “We thought something terrible happened to you,” Jessa broke in, before Lance could jump all over him. “You were gone all night. And no one knew where you went.” She wasn’t yelling, but a bit of a whimper snuck through. If anything had happened to him—

  “Course I was gone all night,” he said, as ornery and gruff as ever. “I have every right to go out and camp on my land whenever the hell I want.”

  Jessa cut a glance at Lance. His face had gone red. Molten.

  “The hell you do,” he ground out. “It’s not safe for you to come out here alone.”

  Now that she agreed with. What if her father had been out here alone when he’d had the heart attack? They never would’ve known what had happened to him. They may have never found his body. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips before a sob snuck out.

  Luis seemed to assess her with those watery gray eyes. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone,” he said more gently. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “Then why were you whistling?” she whispered, still battling how the memories of her dad and her relief at seeing Luis swirled her in a fog of emotion.

  “Can’t find the damn ATV,” Luis said, gazing around. “Woke up at sunrise and been lookin’ for it ever since. Left it parked right here. I know I did. Someone must’ve taken it.”

  “No,” Lan
ce snapped, his body rigid. “Actually you didn’t leave it right here.”

  The worry that had just started to dissipate clouded Jessa’s heart again. “You parked it where we always park,” she said, studying him, searching his eyes for a sign that he remembered. “Over on the east side of the mountain.”

  Luis simply blinked at her. He looked…confused. Disoriented. And she’d never seen him that way out here. He always knew where things were, which direction was which, how to get from one point to another. On all of their hikes, he’d been the one to lead her.

  “This is the east side,” he insisted, with a stubborn lift to his stubbled jaw. “I ought to know. This is my land.”

  She glanced at Lance, but he simply shrugged it off. His head tilted to the right. “Topaz Mountain is right there, which means that way is east. You must’ve gotten turned around.” Whirling, he pointed toward the ridge. “The ATVs are this way. Let’s go.”

  Luis stepped off, too, hiking up the backpack that held all of his gear and passing his son as though he had something to prove. Jessa followed behind, watching him, and something was definitely off. His feet seemed to be stumbling more than usual. Was his balance unsteady?

  When Luis had gotten far enough ahead of them that he couldn’t hear, she jogged to Lance. “Something’s not right,” she said.

  “Tell me about it.” He shook his head. “He can never admit when he’s wrong about anything.”

  She tugged on his arm until he stopped and faced her. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “So what do you mean?” he asked, inching into her space. He was so broad she couldn’t see around him. His thick callused hands came to rest on his hips.

  Her heart fluttered like a caged butterfly searching for a way out. “I just…I’ve never seen him get turned around out here.”

  Once again, Lance’s shoulders lifted in that laid-back-cowboy shrug. “It could happen to anyone. Especially if he didn’t sleep all that great. He’s probably tired.”

  No. It’d happened to her multiple times but it didn’t happen to Luis. She glanced at the older man, still stalking toward the east side of the mountain in a huff. “What if something’s wrong? Health-wise or something?”

  Sympathy softened Lance’s eyes. “It’s not like what happened to your dad. Nothing’s wrong. I see the man every day. Trust me. He’s healthy as a horse.”

  A sigh sank in her chest. Maybe Lance saw only what he wanted to see. “What if we hadn’t come looking for him? How long would it have taken him to find his way?” Or would he have wandered off and gotten lost? If he couldn’t even find the ATV, what else would he forget?

  “He would’ve found his way eventually,” Lance insisted, as though he was unwilling to consider the alternative.

  Well, it was easy to see where he’d gotten his stubbornness. Jessa raised her head and stared him down. “I don’t think he should go out alone anymore.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, checking behind his shoulder as though he wanted to make sure his father was out of earshot. “Which is why I’d like you to stay with him for a while.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?” She must not have heard him right.

  “I can’t babysit him every second. Not for the next few weeks. I’m training for Worlds.”

  Right. The biggest competition on the bull-riding stage. A laugh tumbled out. “So you want me to babysit him.” Did he even realize how ridiculous that sounded?

  Lance took a step closer, and it wasn’t fair how those large silvery eyes of his could look so pleading. “He already spends most of his free time at your rescue thing anyway.”

  Rescue thing? Heat swathed her forehead. “I’m pretty sure you meant to say my father’s animal rescue organization, which happens to be his legacy.” You hot jackass.

  “Right.” His lips twitched as though he was trying to hold back a smile. “That’s what I meant. You already spend a lot of time with him. We can tell him your house is being fumigated or something and you can move in with him for a few weeks. The upper story of his house is furnished and everything.”

  “Oh, well in that case.” She let the sarcasm in her tone speak for her. “Are you crazy? The man is sixty-seven years old. He’s not going to let me babysit him.” If he realized what was really going on, Luis would have a conniption.

  “He likes you,” Lance countered, his eyes melting into some kind of irresistible plea. The same one she often saw on wounded animals. Good God. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

  “In fact, I think he might like you better than he likes me,” he said, going for the kill shot with a delicious little smirk. “I can’t keep my eye on him when I’m out training. And I don’t trust him to be alone. Can’t have him wandering off anymore.”

  Under the power of his gaze, her will had started to cave, but she shook her head, desperately holding on to the shard of pride she had left. “No. I’m sorry. I do have a life, you know. I can’t drop everything and babysit your—”

  “I’ll give you half of my winnings,” he interrupted.

  Jessa staggered back a step. This was absurd. “I won’t take your money.”

  “Fine, then. I’ll donate it to your shelter. Half of everything I win at Worlds.”

  Half of everything? She didn’t know much about bull riding, but she knew those purses were worth a lot of money. “That’s…wow…a chunk of change…”

  He stepped in closer, lowered his head to hers. “I’m gonna win this year. I just need the time to train.”

  Determination had steeled his face, his voice, and she didn’t doubt he’d win. He’d won a World title before, though it had been years back. But he was the real thing—the rider who persevered through every injury, through every disappointment. And given how disappointing she’d heard the past year had been for him in the arena, he’d do whatever it took to get one more title. “I don’t want to take your winnings.” But she kind of did, too. Not for herself, but for the shelter. That’d give her plenty to make the repairs and improvements they needed, to buy supplies and upgrade their facility until she could establish a good donor base.

  “I’m not doing it for the money,” Lance uttered, his voice full of conviction.

  No. It clearly went much deeper for him. She could read it in his eyes. He had something to prove to the world. She’d seen the articles in the town newspaper. She’d heard what everyone was saying. While Luis had somehow managed to continue competing as a living legend until the age of thirty-eight, they thought Lance had lost his spark. Some people in town said he should’ve quit a long time ago. How would that feel? To always be stuck in the shadow of your great father? To have the world thinking you’re done before you’re ready to be?

  “Please, Jessa,” he said laying a hand on her forearm and effectively wiping out her last scrap of dignified resolve. “I need your help.” Judging from the twitch in his jaw, those might’ve been the most difficult words he’d ever managed to say.

  Yeah, who was she kidding? She couldn’t say no to the man. Couldn’t turn down a large donation to the shelter.

  “Fine. I’ll do it,” she said, starting to walk past him.

  On one condition, she should have added. That he’d steer clear of her so she wouldn’t lose her heart again.

  Chapter Six

  Topaz Falls didn’t exactly offer much in the way of nightlife. Not that Jessa had ever minded. Since she’d moved here full time last year, her idea of nightlife had been snuggling up with whatever animals she was caring for at the time and enjoying a rom com movie marathon from the comfort of her couch. But one Friday evening last winter, as she was getting settled in for one of her favorites, she realized she was out of chocolate truffles and she simply couldn’t watch the fabulous Chocolat without any chocolate. So she’d thrown on a hat and a coat and braved a blizzard to walk eight blocks to The Chocolate Therapist, the town’s only confectionery and wine bar.

  Normally the town was dead at nine o’clock on a snowy Friday n
ight in December, and sure enough The Chocolate Therapist had been closed. Her heart had sunk until she’d noticed a light on somewhere near the back of the store. In a move of desperation, she’d knocked on the door.

  The owner, Darla Michelson, had answered. She had one of those friendly inviting faces, with dancing blue eyes and smile lines instead of crow’s-feet, all framed by an unruly but adorable nest of curly black hair with hip red streaks. In a halo of light, Darla had hurried to unlock the door and when Jessa explained the situation, the woman had invited her in and had not only filled up a takeout box with the creamiest, loveliest truffles she’d ever seen, Darla also invited her to stay for the book club meeting she was hosting in the back room.

  She might not have if she hadn’t been freezing, if her pinky toes hadn’t been numb. The prospect of staying somewhere warm and cheerful, with that rich chocolate scent billowing all around her, far outweighed the cold, lonely walk home. Darla had taken her coat and poured her a glass of mulled wine that tasted like Heaven. Then she’d taken her into a small back room, which happened to be set up like the coziest living room Jessa had ever seen. There were an overstuffed couch and two lopsided recliners clustered around an antique coffee table. Happy pink and green pillows freshened up the worn sofa while polka-dotted lampshades brightened the whole space.

  Cassidy Greer, who was a local EMT, and Naomi had popped off the couch enthusiastically to greet her. They were so warm and friendly, bright rays of sunshine in the winter of her lingering grief. That night, for the first time since her father had passed away, the feeling of loneliness that had shrouded Jessa fell away and the first signs of spring started to bud in her heart.

  After that, every week, she headed to The Chocolate Therapist, and it really had become her healing. The chocolate and wine, yes of course, but even more so these women who’d become like her sisters. Maybe it was their shared grief. Darla had lost her husband to cancer two years before, which made her a young widow at thirty-four. Sweet young Cassidy had lost her brother Cash in a bull-riding accident five years previously. And Naomi had been left behind by a husband who wanted nothing to do with her or their amazing daughter. That first night, they’d bonded. Pain has a funny way of bringing people together, and they’d spent the whole night sharing their life stories over countless mugs of mulled wine and God only knew how many boxes of truffles. They were all so different—on the book side of things Darla preferred straight-up smut, Naomi was addicted to self-help books, Cassidy read only suspense and thrillers, and Jessa, of course, was all about sweet character-driven romance novels that told idyllic stories with happy endings. Their vast differences didn’t matter, though. They hardly ever discussed the books they were reading, anyway. Every discussion somehow diverged into talking about life, their problems, and the joys or hurts or triumphs they were facing.