His Cowgirl Bride (11 page)

She wasn't being sassy, just genuinely nice. On the one hand, looking at her, being near her, made him want to smile. On the other hand, she aggravated him no end. He was totally falling for Tacy Jones and he knew it. Needing to put distance between them, he hopped down from the fence. Determined not to help him at all, she followed. And wasn't it just his luck that she landed with a thud and a grunt as her ankle turned. Immediately, he grabbed her arm to
steady her and just like that found himself too close again for comfort.

“Oops,” she said, as breathless as he suddenly felt.

“Are you okay?” he managed to ask. The woman had the biggest eyes—looking into them was just plain dangerous.

She inhaled slowly before answering. “Just checking your reflexes. Now about that horse—don't you think you could give a girl a chance?”

The
horse.
Here he was thinking about Tacy and all she was thinking about was that darn colt and how to get him to let her break it!

Some fool he was. He dropped his hand from her arm and pointed at the gate. “Out, Tacy. Now!”

“S
top with the commands,” Tacy said the second she was out of the corral. “I'm trying to help. You have a problem. You realize that, don't you?”

“You
are my problem. I'm trying to protect you, and all you want to do is—”

“Is what
I
want to do. Yes,
I
know. And you don't have any reason to keep me from doing that. I'm not a child or a teenager. I'm a grown, capable woman and you can't tell me you haven't noticed that.”

He started to say something, but instead slammed his mouth into a tight line as his gaze slid over her. She crossed her arms and stared up at him. She remembered every detail of his kiss. What in the world was she thinking when she even toyed with the idea that he was someone she could fall in love with? The very thought was ridiculous. Still, her mind kept coming back to that thought time and again.
Ridiculous!
“Well, are you going to just stand there? Haven't you noticed that I'm a capable woman?”

His eyes narrowed to match hers. “Oh, I've noticed that you're a woman, all right. No denying that.” He stepped closer now, invading her space. “A beautiful, feisty woman who likes to get her way. Even if she has to manipulate men to get it.”

He thinks I'm beautiful!
She smiled like a goofball at him and tried to keep her thoughts straight—easier said than done. She was enjoying his nearness more than she wanted or needed to. “My way is the way it was supposed to be in the first place,” she said, forcing herself to focus on what was pertinent to her goals. “Come on, Brent. You have a problem and I'm the solution. You need help out here. You need help riding these horses in order to get enough time in the saddle on them before the owners pick them up. You need me.” It was absolutely true, and he knew it. Either he was going to have to let her help or hire someone else.

They stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills. No doubt he would see the light. The man was smart. Surely his common sense would kick in and he would realize this was different from when he'd allowed his sister to climb up on the back of an unbroken horse.

After a tension-filled moment, he stepped back. “What I do with the colts is not your concern. You aren't—”

That did it! “You are a real piece of work, cowboy,” she snapped, taking a step toward him, invading his space this time. “Here I thought you had a brain and
maybe a heart, but you're just closed-minded and selfish!” Turning away, she stalked toward her truck but spun back to face him again. “I can ride those colts. And even if I were to get on one and get thrown on my backside, it would be better than being too afraid to give it a go. You know what you are, Brent Stockwell? You're a chauvinistic chicken!”

She stormed to her truck and fumed all the way home. She felt childish and validated at the same time. She didn't like anything about this. Not one single thing.

 

Despite his foul mood, Brent stayed after church the next day because Norma Sue wouldn't hear of him leaving. They were eating and then playing volleyball—and she was determined to get Brent to participate.

He'd never seen so much food in all his life, but Applegate assured him that come next week at the churchwide Thanksgiving dinner, there'd be twice the food. Brent probably wouldn't see that spread, but he didn't tell App. Instead, he piled his plate full, carried it over to a table and sat down. His gaze drifted across the fellowship hall to the table where Tacy sat with a group of women around her age. She was laughing, and hearing it made his stomach roll over like the first time he stuck his boot in the stirrup of a rodeo bronc. He'd instinctively known what to do with that bronc…. He didn't have a clue what to do with Tacy, and it was driving him crazy.

Unlike him, she seemed to be having a great time today. When she'd left his house the day before, she hadn't been happy—oh, no, the redheaded troublemaker had been hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July. And despite everything—every harsh word he'd said to her—it had bothered him all night long. She was under the wrong assumption that he enjoyed denying her something she wanted so much. She had no idea what havoc she was causing within him.

Seeing her happy now gave him pause. Was everything about their relationship—what little they had and however odd it might be—purely a ruse to get on a horse's back? The thought plagued him like a nail in his boot. He understood perfectly that it bothered him because he wanted her to feel something for him that went far beyond getting her way.

As if feeling his eyes upon her, Tacy looked his way and held his gaze for a second. A second that stilled his heartbeat and stole his breath.

He was floundering, and he knew it.

He was supposed to be training horses, and all he could think about was a green-eyed gal with copper-colored hair and a fiery determination that drew him like a flame. Tacy Jones was becoming important to him, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

“She's a complex piece of work, isn't she?”

Brent pulled his head out of the clouds and stared at the cowboy who'd just taken the chair beside him. It was Jess.

Brent stared at him, not sure how he was supposed
to answer. He kept his mouth shut so Jess could clarify it on his own. At Brent's hard stare, the cowboy glanced toward Tacy and shrugged.

“I'm just saying she's a puzzle. I can't figure her out, though I'm trying my best. You're looking at her like you'd like to—” He paused.

Brent's mood went south with that pause. “To what?” he asked, the edge to his voice as sharp as the way his temper had spiked.

Jess's brows dipped. “Hey, nothing bad implied here, so back down, man. All I'm saying is, you look like you want to get to know her, too. She's great. Who wouldn't want to be the guy to get past that barrier she's put up to block us out?”

Brent's temp backed off a few degrees. Maybe he'd jumped to conclusions he shouldn't have, but the thought of this cowboy or any other even thinking about Tacy didn't sit well with him. Not caring to continue the conversation with Jess, he picked up a forkful of stuffing and rammed it into his mouth.

Brent knew he was attracted to Tacy on a physical level, but it went deeper than that. She had this uncanny way of knowing what he was thinking—that irritated and intrigued him at the same time. It got him to thinking about things. How did she do that? Like her telling him he needed to go home for Thanksgiving. Tacy had picked up on that instantly.

His mom's reaction pricked his conscience. It wasn't her fault he'd chosen the wrong path—the way of booze and women—when he'd had everything
going for him. It wasn't her fault he'd let his wilder side kick in rather than sticking with the good upbringing he'd been given. It was something he would regret for the rest of his life—and not something he wanted to think about right now. He pushed aside those thoughts and concentrated on the food on his plate. He was staring at his sweet potatoes when Jess elbowed him in the side.

“Seems like one of us is ahead in the game.”

Brent glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

The cowboy jerked his head in Tacy's direction. “She keeps stealing glances this way and, sadly, it's not me she's looking at. Matter of fact, I don't even think she's noticed I'm sitting here beside you.”

Brent slid his gaze Tacy's way. Sure enough, she shot him a quick, penetrating glance. Her eyes were clear as a green flame and he felt the burn all the way across the room. It left no doubt that she was just as mad at him today as she'd been yesterday.

“Nothing new there,” he said to Jess. “She's just mad at me. Again.”

“Hey, don't sell that short. At least that's got her attention. Don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan of the sassy side of her, but that glare you just got—well, that's one hundred percent, pure-grade emotion right there. That's priceless.” Jess stood and grabbed his plate. “I wouldn't waste it if I were you.”

Jess's observation was not lost on Brent. Still, the cowboy had no idea what kind of eggshells he and Tacy were treading on. He looked her way again, but
she'd gathered her plate and glass and was telling everyone goodbye. He watched her walk to the trash and head out the door. He couldn't pull his eyes from her.

He had a problem. What he wanted to do about this unexpected complication was the question he had yet to answer.

 

“Birdy, where are you?” Tacy walked into the barn and wasn't greeted by the familiar bark. Rabbit, though, poked his head over the stall gate and gave her a welcoming snort.

She paused in her search to gently scratch him between the eyes. “Hey, boy, how's it going? Have you seen our little mama-to-be today?”

The horse pawed the ground and batted his big eyes at her.

“Too bad I can't understand that answer,” Tacy said, continuing on to peek into the other stalls. They were empty. Anxiety was slowly creeping into her mind. She should have stayed home from church this morning. Birdy had been wearing a look that said today was the day. Not being able to find the expectant mother now had her worried. If she hadn't been so concerned, she'd have been glad for the distraction from her convoluted thoughts about Brent.

“Birdy, come on, girl, where are you?” she called as she walked across the yard toward Brent's cabin. She wanted to find her blue-heeler and get her home before Brent showed up. That had been part of the
reason she left the lunch early. She was worried about Birdy, but also if she'd stayed any longer she might have gone over to Brent and made a fool of herself in front of the entire church congregation.

The sound of a truck gave her a sinking feeling just before Brent drove around the curve and came over the cattle guard. She should have known he'd leave the volleyball game early. She'd kinda hoped Norma Sue would trap him on the sand and not let him go. But, no, the man just couldn't help but find new ways to mess up her life.

Her knees felt shaky as he got out of his truck. “I'm looking for Birdy,” she said more hastily than she'd intended. “Did you see her before you left for church this morning?”

“I saw her head into the barn. Did you look there?”

“Yes. I was about to look behind the cabin. I'm thinking she's ready to give birth, and now I'm worried because I just assumed she'd have her babies in her bed. I put soft towels in there for her and everything.”

“Let me help. She might have decided to hide under the house. When I was growing up, we had a dog that had several litters of pups under the shed.”

“I can do it on my own,” Tacy said, heading toward the side of the small cabin and crouching down to stare under the dark building.

Brent dropped down beside her. “Good thing about the cabin is the blocks aren't too low to the ground.”

She stared at him. Had he not heard a word she'd
just said? “Really, Brent, I've got this. You probably have horses to ride.” Okay, so she was cranky. Sue her.

He pulled his head out from under the house and met her glare with dancing, teasing eyes. “What I'm going to
do
is go get a flashlight.”

Fuming, she watched him stand and saunter off. She didn't want his help. She was half-afraid of her crazy self—the one who kept thinking about the kiss they'd shared. The same side of herself that kept tossing around images of the two of them growing old together. Crazy, crazy, crazy.

Them as a married couple. Ha! They wouldn't last a month.

“Birdy, are you under here, girl?” she called, more than anxious to find the missing dog and get the show on the road back to her place. The cabin wasn't that large, but she couldn't make out anything in the murky darkness.

“See anything?”

She jumped at the sound of Brent's voice so close. “Don't do that! You scared me!” she exclaimed.

He grinned and dropped down beside her. “Sorry. I didn't mean to.”

“Oh, try that one on someone who doesn't know you, mister.”

“So you admit it.” He laughed, sending little jolts spinning across her skin.

“Admit what?”

“That you know me.”

She sat back on her haunches. “Well, in a manner
of speaking. You
are
my neighbor. We
have
argued a lot.”

He leaned forward on his knees, his eyes dropping to her lips. “Yep. We've argued, all right. Kind of fun, isn't it?”

Tacy's heart was pounding out of control. Just another couple of inches and they could be kissing again—Whoa! What was she thinking? She slammed a shaky hand down on his shoulder. “Back up, cowboy. I don't think we're on the same page here.”

His gaze lifted to hers. “Oh, I think we are and you know it.”

The chemistry sparked between them like a grass fire in July. “W-w-well,” she managed, having to swallow hard because her throat had gone dust-bowl dry. “Wha-what I do know is that Birdy needs us to find her.” There, she'd managed to turn the conversation back on target. Not an easy thing to do when all she was thinking about was the feel of his lips on hers.