His Cowgirl Bride (5 page)

“You seem worried,” Tacy said in a hushed voice a few minutes later when she brought Jess his lunch. He leaned close.

“I didn't want them to get hurt. Did you see that thing App was drawing? It was a monster.”

She smiled at his ingenuity. “You know, Jess, I'm impressed. That was a smooth move on your part.”

He gave her a wink. “Impressed enough to agree to that date?”

She laughed. “I've told you, cowboy. I'm not dat
ing. Even if you have managed to impress me,” she drawled and returned his teasing wink just as Brent walked into the diner. She met his stare across the room and her temper, which had dissipated, shot right back up like a fever spike. “Where are all your buddies today?” she asked Jess, watching as Brent strode toward the counter. He could sit there and wait a few minutes.

“They got stuck on fence patrol so they're tailgating on the job. I thought I'd have you all to myself today. Boy, was I wrong.”

“How did you manage to get out of that?” she asked, glancing back at Brent.

“I couldn't miss my ballet lessons. Today was the fitting for my tutu, so Clint let me come to town.”

“Oh, well, that's good,” she said, pulling her gaze back and finding Jess looking amused.
“What?”

“I just told you I came to town for ballet lessons and a tutu.”

Tacy frowned. “Well, why in the world would you tell me something crazy like that?”

“I guess to find out why you can't take your eyes off that new bronc buster.”

Tacy scowled at Jess. “I just glanced at the guy.”

“Yeah, and my name is Elvis Presley,” he said grumpily. “Do I have some competition? You know I've won my fair share of rodeos, if that's what's impressing you.”

“Hardly. I already told you, you're wasting your time with me. I'm not dating you and certainly not Mr.
Congeniality over there.” She gave Jess a firm nod. Then, taking a deep breath, she walked toward Brent. She might as well get this over with.

B
rent wasn't sure why he'd decided to come into town for lunch. He'd known Tacy would be working the rush hour and that she would still be highly ticked off at him.

But he'd come anyway.

She'd been having a good time smiling and winking at her boyfriend when he walked in. One glance in his direction and she'd chilled up like an ice cube.

“So what'll it be?” she asked, coming to a stop in front of him just as Sam came out of the kitchen.

“Afternoon, Brent. You come back for some more meat loaf? Or to see my purdy waitress?”

Brent held up his hands in surrender. “No meat loaf. I came for a burger,” he declared, then shifted his focus to Tacy. “I also came to see your pretty waitress.”

She looked like he'd caught her off guard when her stony gaze faltered.

With a wry smile, Sam said, “Well, don't mind me. I got yer burger to cook.” Chuckling all the way, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Brent watched Tacy grab a glass and busy herself filling it with iced tea. She must have automatically assumed he wanted tea since he'd ordered it last time. That didn't stop the unexpected zing of pleasure that shot through him when he realized she'd remembered his drink of choice—but he ignored it. “I came to apologize for making you mad.”

She hesitated before setting the glass down in front of him, letting it hover above the napkin momentarily as his words sank in. Then she plunked it down and crossed her arms. “Something tells me that apology doesn't include remorse enough to offer an invitation to help me learn how to train those colts.”

She was tenacious. “No. I won't do that. I have my reasons.”

“And?” she said, lifting a quizzical brow.

“And I don't really care to explain myself.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then clamped it shut. Her green eyes flashed. “Typical male apology. My way or no way,” she huffed, then swung away and stomped around the counter, grabbing a pitcher of iced tea on her way to make the rounds.

Grinding his teeth, he watched as she cheerily refilled glasses. This was not going the way he'd
hoped. There was no reason for this feud to continue. If the woman would only see reason!

Across the room, Applegate and Stanley were getting ready to leave when App caught his eye and strode over. “You ain't doin' so good,” the eagle-eyed older man said loudly, turning several heads their way—including those of Norma Sue and her crew.

Suddenly feeling as if he were onstage, Brent turned his back to the room and picked up his tea. “Don't know what you're talking about,” he said, giving App a sideways glance, hoping he'd drop it. The twinkle in App's eyes told him he wasn't going to be that lucky. Or that he didn't care that their conversation could be heard by almost everyone in the diner.

“Jest ask her out. You know ya want to.”

Brent decided that not answering was the smartest move. He was relieved when Tacy came swinging around the bar—but she just dropped off the tea, shot App a glare and marched straight into the kitchen, leaving him staring after her.

“Never mind.” App chuckled. “She don't look like she'd go out with ya anyway. You know anything about catapults?”

Not at all sure what catapults and dates with Tacy had to do with each other, Brent was leery of answering. “Not really,” he said. Tacy came out of the kitchen, hamburger in one hand and Sam following. They both stopped in front of him as Tacy slapped his meal on the counter.

“Me and Stanley are gonna build a punkin chunker and need some fellas ta join our team. You look like you could use some friends—seein' as how yor new in town and done started miffing certain folks.”

“That's an understatement,” Tacy grumbled and walked back into the dining area, distributing lunch bills to the tables.

Stanley had joined Applegate and now Brent was looking at three wrinkled, grinning old codgers. “I'll help out if y'all promise to lay off.”

“Good deal,” Stanley said. “Meet us out at App's place after church on Sunday. We gotta git to play practice out at the Barn Theater right now. We have a show out there tanight and two shows tomorrow so we ain't got no time open 'til Sunday.”

That said, they headed toward the door, stopping at Norma Sue's table to tell her, loud enough for folks all over the county to hear, that they were getting up a winning team and she and Esther Mae were going down.

“What in the world was all that?” Brent asked, turning back to Sam.

“Some friendly competition. I think Tacy is on Norma Sue, Esther Mae and my Adela's team. You better watch out or you might just set off a real feud.”

Brent listened as Sam explained the “punkin chunkin” contest. It sounded like good fun. “So there'll be more teams than just Norma Sue's and Applegate's?”

“That's the plan. But them two teams are what'll
count. It's gonna be war. Jess thar—that cowboy who's talkin' to yor Tacy with that twinkle in his eye—he suggested ever'body build the same category of contraption. The catapult.”

Brent had taken a bite of his burger and glanced over his shoulder to see Tacy chatting it up with the cowboy she'd been winking at when he walked into the diner. She was saying something, and he could tell by the tilt of her head and the light in her eyes that it was sassy. He took a couple more bites then stood up, rammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his money clip, peeling off bills to pay for his meal.

“You leavin' so soon?” Sam asked.

“It was good, Sam, but I need to get back to work.”

“You didn't even eat half of it.”

“Not hungry, I guess. Have a good day,” he said, snagging up his hat from the stool beside him. He didn't miss the grin on Sam's face. But it wasn't the speculation that bothered him as he strode out of the diner and climbed into his truck. It was seeing Tacy flirting with that cowboy that had his gut twisting up in knots. He told himself all the way back to the pens that he was a fool. Yet there was just something about Tacy that reached inside him and made him want to get to know her better. But that wasn't happening. They had a barrier between them that couldn't be breached…he wouldn't let it.

 

Tacy didn't work at Sam's on Saturdays. Sam's other part-time waitress and cook worked Saturdays
and some weeknights. Tacy normally spent all day at the corral working with Rabbit. She didn't plan to change that just because Brent was there.

The other days she'd gone there after her shift, dreading running into him, and was relieved when he'd stayed in the corral while she stayed in the barn and the pasture, well out of his way. It had worked out just fine. For now.

It wasn't going to last, though. She was too curious about what was going on inside that corral. Too curious about Brent. The cowboy had reasons for not wanting her in that pen, and she'd decided it was time to find out just exactly what they were. If she understood, then she could better figure out how to get around it.

Seven in the morning, and he was already in the pen with the chestnut. Tacy sat in her truck and watched him lift the saddle and place it on the colt's back. Three days ago that horse had jumped and flinched. Today it seemed calm and comfortable. From the distance, she could see how Brent worked with that same easy, relaxed movement he used with the other horse. Birdy, the traitor, had taken up permanent residence by Brent and lay flopped on the ground with her chin on her paws, watching him with adoring eyes. The man just had a way of drawing a woman's attention. She sighed and watched as he placed a booted foot in the stirrup. The horse immediately stepped sideways. Brent went with it, keeping his hand on the saddle horn, his boot in the stirrup and hopping along
on the other boot. Though she was too far away to hear him, she could tell he was speaking to the horse. Then, with unbelievable grace, he was in the saddle. Easy, breezy, no big deal—or so it seemed. That wasn't the most impressive part, either. Oh, no, it was that he was sitting in the saddle of a fairly
calm
horse. He walked it around the pen. No bucking, no dancing, no running.

Tacy smiled all the way to her toes. Wow. Brent was good, and she was going to learn how to do that. Oh,
yeah.

Striding across the yard, she bent to pet Birdy. “Is it getting close, girl?” she asked, though she knew it was. Any day now puppies would arrive. Tacy could hardly wait. Brent was acting like he hadn't seen her walk up, but she knew he knew she was there.

“Stubborn man,” she mumbled, folding her arms and resting her elbows on the corral, daring him not to acknowledge her. Finally, he turned his head her way. Feeling exceptionally prickly, she lifted her hand slightly and waved daintily. To her surprise, he raised his chin in acknowledgment.

Stepping away from the fence, she decided she needed to tend to Rabbit. She wanted Brent to teach her how to break horses, and absolutely nothing more. The man was too hard, too stubborn. She'd dealt with his kind all her life. Her dad was the same way and had raised her four brothers with the same outlook. So why, she wanted to know, was she thinking that she'd like to get to know him better? It was crazy. She entered the barn and headed to Rabbit's stall.

“You didn't stay long.”

His low rumble shocked her, and she spun around to find him standing in the doorway of the barn looking better than anybody had a right to look. He wore ragged jeans, a T-shirt that stretched across his strong shoulders like a second skin and that beat-up hat that had seen better days. It all combined beautifully with his strong jaw, lips that were hitched slightly to one side and eyes that said he was just as wary—and interested—as she was. Tacy ran her hand along Rabbit's saddle.

“I decided that irritating you wasn't on my agenda today. You were too impressive out there.”

He relaxed a shoulder against the entrance and crossed his arms, watching her. “That's something new. You sure you can make it through the day doing that?”

He didn't acknowledge her compliment, but she laughed at his unexpected humor. “I made it just fine before you showed up around here. I'm pretty sure I can manage.”

He smiled. “I'm sure you can.”

She gave an exaggerated gasp. “Was that a compliment?”

“I don't know? Was it?”

“You know you like me.”

“Do you flirt with everyone?”

“Oh, so now you're getting personal,” she teased, enjoying herself more than she probably should. “Am I flirting?”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You're not?”

“I don't know, am I?”

He raised a brow. “Do you flirt with everyone?”

That gave her pause…. “You mean Jess?”

“Is that his name?”

This was interesting. She thought he'd seen her winking at Jess earlier at the diner, but she hadn't expected him to ask her about it. “Why are you asking about my social life? Do
not
tell me you're thinking about asking me out.” His eyes shifted slightly and she knew he'd been thinking exactly that. “Oh, no.” She half laughed. “I'll tell you the same as I've told Jess and all the other cowboys looking to date me—I don't date.”

“I wasn't going to ask you out,” he denied.

She laughed, not believing him for one moment. “Then why the nosy question? And why do you look so startled by my straight-up answer?”
Cowboys
—they were so easy to read, especially after being raised with four brothers. She had his number, and she knew it.

He did, too. Caught in his bluff, he snatched his hat from his head and rammed his free hand through his thick, straight, sandy-brown hair.

She planted herself in front of him. “You're
flustered,”
she pressed, looking up at him intently, unable to resist teasing him.

His gaze darkened and dropped to her lips, then jerked back to meet her eyes.

Suddenly Tacy realized that she might not be as much in control of the situation as she'd believed!

Brent wanted to tug Tacy into his arms and kiss her sassy mouth. This thing they had between them was like an electric current. Dangerous and powerful. He leaned toward her, every fiber in him intent on finding out if a kiss would be electric, when she slapped a palm to his chest, flattening it firmly in place.

“Whoa, cowboy,” she warned. “I said I don't date. And I certainly don't kiss cowboys who've told me they have no respect for me.”

“What? Where did you get that?”

She cocked a brow, flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and strode back to Rabbit's stall.

He followed at a slower pace, stunned by her accusation. “I never said I didn't respect you.”

She opened the gate and entered the stall, glancing over her shoulder to pin him with her stare. “Sure you did. You won't let me in that arena with those horses.” She opened the back gate and shooed Rabbit out into the back run before turning to face him. “You won't let me near them or teach me how to break them. That's like shouting at me that you have no respect for me.”