His Cowgirl Bride (10 page)

W
hen Tacy got back to Pace and Sheri's, Birdy was snuggled up in her bed beside the door—with Brent's boot.

“How are you feeling, you little thief?” she asked, bending down to pet her friend and make sure she was okay. She was going to have to keep a close watch on her because she was due any day now. Snuggling with Brent's boot might be a sign that the time was near. She was obviously nesting.

“I really hate to take the boot away from you, sugar, but I'm going to have to.” She was also going to have to tell Brent to stop tempting the poor dog by leaving his boots outside. Thank goodness he had two pairs he worked in or else he'd be up a creek.

After changing into her riding clothes, Tacy drove to Brent's and set his boot on the porch beside the other one. She could see him in the corral working one
of the colts. As she caught sight of him he was preparing to place a horse blanket on a colt's back for what was obviously the first time. She headed that way, watching and listening. The colt wasn't sure about the whole idea, but Brent was speaking to it calmly. His voice was wonderfully reassuring. The baritone rumble of it was so enticing that Tacy was certain it would calm anything and anyone he spoke to—she herself could listen to it all day long.

There she went getting sidetracked again. Striding to the corral, she climbed to the top of the board, threw her legs over and took a seat. Seeing her, the colt jumped sideways, which won her an instant scowl from Brent. He
really
needed to get over that scowling or his face might just freeze that way. It dawned on her that his heart might be in danger of the same thing.

Shooting him a grin, she crossed her arms and sat perfectly still. He was grinding his molars so hard the poor man was going to have TMJ before the sun went down. “Get back to work.” She mouthed the words silently. He turned away from her, and she couldn't help smiling. He knew as well as she did that the horse would accept her after a few minutes if she was still and quiet. Brent, however, was an entirely different ball game. He glared again, then turned back to the horse, evidently determined to ignore her.

Which was fine with Tacy as long as she got to observe him now. She loved watching him work. He was patient as the day was long—with a horse. Teaching a horse to trust you was an art. You had to get the
animal to realize you meant no harm. Anytime you earned an animal's trust, it was better all the way around. Horses were just like people in that respect.

She wondered how she could earn Brent's trust. In a way, he'd already shown that he trusted her by confiding his past. Forcing the issue of breaking horses might ruin that and she knew it.

But, as Lacy had pointed out, it also might help him. Sitting there watching him work the colt while he ignored her, Tacy closed her eyes and prayed that God would lead her. That He would help her know how to handle this situation. She also prayed that He would forgive her if she messed up. She was afraid of messing up…but then she was just going to have to trust God to fix her goofs if they weren't part of the big plan.

After about an hour, Brent tied the horse and stalked her way. Watching him, she had a flashback of the last time he walked purposefully toward her like that—she forced the kiss out of her mind and climbed from the top of the corral.

“You're bothering the horse by being here,” he said, opening the gate and walking out.

She scooted out behind him. “You know as well as I do that it forgot about me after a few minutes.”

His glare hit her like a brick as he shook his head in disgust or frustration before stomping toward the cabin.

“You are so stubborn, Brent. I only brought your boot back, if you really want to know why I'm here,”
she called, hurrying behind him. “You might want to keep it inside. Birdy was treating it like a puppy this morning.”

She saw his lip twitch and knew he thought that was cute. The man had a soft spot for her dog.

“Has she had pups before?” he asked, stopping at the steps. He wore buckskin chaps over faded jeans and a button-down, long-sleeved shirt—she dragged her mind away from thinking how rugged and
safe
he looked. She forced herself not to think about how wonderful it had felt to be held in those strong arms.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “First litter, but the vet says she should be fine. Her mother always had good luck delivering pups, so I don't anticipate a problem.”

“Good.”

He stepped up onto the porch and headed toward the door without saying anything else. She'd expected an argument, even a fight. She hadn't expected to be totally dismissed. Okay, so he'd said a few words, but how could he just go into the cabin and leave her standing there?

Spinning around, Tacy stomped back to the barn and fed Rabbit. When she was done she waited, toe tapping beside the corral, but Brent didn't return. She checked her watch. An hour had passed.

This was ridiculous. She glared at the cabin and imagined him sitting in there, watching her. She crossed her arms, jutted a hip forward and fumed. The horse Brent had been working snorted, and she
glanced toward it, furious when she saw it calmly waiting for him.

Was Brent playing her? Trying to manipulate her? Did he think that if he went inside all he'd have to do was wait until she gave up and left?
Ha!
She'd get him out of there if he was watching. Instead of heading toward her truck, she went straight toward the corral. With a glance over her shoulder at the front window of the cabin, she opened the gate and slipped inside with the colt. Two could play this game.

She wasn't as easily manipulated as he thought she was, and thanks to Lacy, she was seeing things in a whole new light.

 

What was the beautiful little fool doing?

Brent was out the door and down the steps the instant he realized Tacy was going into the pen. She was supposed to go home. She wasn't supposed to go in with the colt. At least it was tied up and the other colts were in a different pen.

The moment he entered the corral he realized he'd been had. Tacy wasn't down at the end of the corral with the colt.

She was leaning against the chute waiting for him.

“Hey, cowboy, about time you showed up.”

His gaze narrowed and his temper flared. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you, honey bunch,” she said with an exaggerated smile as she held her wrist up so the face of her watch was toward him. “You made great time.
Four seconds flat from the moment I unhooked that latch. You must have had your nose stuck to the corner of that window, watching like a hawk, expecting me to just lope over to my truck and leave lickety-split.”

“Okay, so you got me. Now you want to come out of there?”

“Nope. I don't think so. I think I belong here. Look, he's not complaining.” She studied the colt, then turned uncompromising eyes toward him. “I wasn't sure how to handle this. After you told me about your sister, I backed off because I respect your feelings and understand that you're hurting inside and feeling guilty about what happened with her and the horse.”

“Come out,” he said sternly, not at all pleased with the turn of conversation.

She planted her feet. “As I said, I'm staying.” She crossed her arms and challenged him with her stare.

The woman looked entirely too cute with that smug, defiant glint in her eyes. “Tacy, don't push me,” he growled. She shook her head and took a step away from him. He moved toward her. “I'm warning you.”

Her mouth fell open then, and she looked amazingly playful. “Or what? Are you going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me out of here?”

“Don't tempt me.” Instead of looking the least bit worried, she tilted her head back and laughed! “Hey, I'll do it,” he warned, taking another step toward her, making his spurs clink.

Uncertainty clouded her eyes. “Don't be silly. I was just joking.”

“I'm not.” He called her bluff and took another step closer. She backed up, glancing at the colt watching them.

“You're scaring the colt.”

“Obviously, he's not too worried about you. He looks fine to me.”

Her eyes lit up as she stuffed her fists into her pockets. “Noticed that, have you.”

“Noticed what?”

“That the horse isn't too worried about me being in here. I was wondering if you'd admit it. There, you have.”

He stared from her to the colt. It was true that it didn't look too worried about her being here. And he'd already admitted that she did have a way with animals. “Have you always been so pigheaded?”

“Always.”

They had a staring showdown, and he was really tempted to actually snatch her up and carry her out the gate—but he knew that would frighten the colt in the process, undoing the work he'd already done. He studied Tacy.

“You don't have a comeback?” she asked.

“Honestly, no. You confuse me.”

“Hey, I'm an open book,” she said, then climbed back up to her perch on the top board of the corral. She chuckled when she looked down at him. The colt snickered right along with her. “Besides, confusing is good.” She patted the board beside her. “Climb on up here and take a load off. Ask me anything. I
think we need to talk and get some of this confusion cleared up.”

The last thing he wanted to do was sit beside her and let her try to whittle down his resolve. But what could he do? He climbed up beside her anyway…so close their knees touched.

“Don't look so glum—we're just talking,” she said. “It looked like you got sandwiched between App and Norma this afternoon.”

“You looked like you were enjoying the show,” he grumbled.

“I will admit it was fun watching. You weren't sure if they were about to duke it out or not.” She chuckled and nudged him with her shoulder. “Admit it. You were scared you were about to have to referee.”

He laughed. “Okay, you're right. I didn't know what was happening.”

“Believe me, they're just having a good time, despite the look of things. Lacy said they're always finding something to stir up mischief between them.”

He found himself losing his train of thought as he watched her dancing eyes. Suddenly, the green in them darkened, catching him off guard. Just as unexpectedly, she touched his arm, squeezing it gently.

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” she asked quietly.

They'd gone from frustrated to teasing to serious business in seconds. How did she do that to him? “No, I'm not,” he said firmly. He wished she'd stop it. His mother's disappointed voice now rang in his ears.

“I bet your mom didn't like that when you told her.”

He didn't want to talk about this, but her concern got to him. “She was disappointed,” he admitted and tried not to think about how much sadness he'd heard in her voice when they'd last spoken. “But it's for the best.”

“It would be good for you to go home and stop running.”

He grimaced. “Is that what you think? That I'm running?” Instead of giving him a quick comeback, her eyes darkened even further.

“Yes, actually. I know it's not my business, but from what you told me I can't help feeling that you must go home.”

He straightened, his shoulders suddenly feeling knotted up. “Tacy, you have no idea—”

“You know what they say about getting back on a horse after you've been thrown…”

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“But it does, Brent. You made a mistake. A really tragic mistake. But your sister is doing better, praise the Lord. And you've learned from what happened. You know what I think is the saddest thing about all this? The fact that it has come between you and your dad. I'm sure that's hurting your mom something terrible.”

Brent looked away. “You're right. This isn't your business.” Yup, he was being a jerk. No doubt about it.

She knocked him in the knee with her knee. “Hey,
we might not be friends, exactly, but we're neighbors and neighbors care about neighbors.”

“Or they're just being plain nosy.”

She let out an I-don't-care laugh. “If you think being mean is scaring me, you're wrong.”

“This is insane. Is there something in the water around here that makes people—”

“Care?”

“Not
the word I was looking for. More like ornery busybodies.”

She chuckled. “If there is, then you've been guzzling
way
too much of it.”

His concentration was shot to smithereens as her snappy words hit him. His lips twitched against his will, and before he could help it he smiled.

“Oh!” she exclaimed and threw a hand to her heart. “The cowboy doth smile.”

“Funny.”

“No,
really, you should do it more often. It's nice. Really nice,” she said with a warmth that shot straight to his heart and set it racing.