Texas Two-Step: Cowboy Shuffle (4 page)

They could be married for all she knew. There was no one official from the site checking on those things. This was probably a really bad idea. Then again, she personally knew of three women at the hospital who found their current mates on this very site. That gave her hope. And given her recent dating drought, it kind of seemed like this or nothing.

Ellen was surprised to see three new messages had arrived in her inbox since she’d shut down and gone to bed last night. One guy was from another country. Yeah, not much hope of that relationship working out. Another message was from a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer. She’d already written to him and very politely said she didn’t want to meet him in person quite yet, not until she’d gotten to know him better. When he kept pushing and got kind of nasty about it, she’d decided to start to ignore the scary man. His last message had been so rude she deleted this one without even reading it.

“Sorry, but no thanks,” she mumbled to herself, taking great satisfaction from hitting the “block user” button.

The microwave binged and Ellen rose to get her blessed caffeine. She may need it to get through whatever surprises the final message held for her.

Finally with the coffee fixed the way she liked it, she sat back down and with a bracing breath, opened the third and final correspondence in her inbox.

Dear Griffin Girl,

I read your list of criteria in a man and I can tell you this, my grandfather as well as his collie both meet all of your requirements. However I regret to inform you Gramps has been happily married for over fifty years to my grandmother and the collie—well, we won’t go there. I, however, am available now, so let me tell you about me.

First of all, I know I can make you laugh. (In fact, I bet I have already. Come on, admit it.) I consider myself a real man, meaning I can hunt or fish for food for your table, but I’m not afraid to put on an apron and cook it as well. (Okay, maybe the apron is a stretch, but I have been known to tuck a dishtowel into my belt while in the kitchen.) I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. I can, for example, fix a car one minute then do the dishes the next. I’ll admit I’ve been known to get into a scrape here and there because I have no qualms about knocking a guy off his feet if he doesn’t treat a lady right. However, I also have no qualms about carrying a lady’s purse while we're shopping if that’s what she wants me to do. I love horses and dogs. Cats I could go either way on. I believe in buying American, in driving big trucks, and in respecting the flag and our troops and our parents. I work hard and I play hard because life is too short to do anything else. I’ve been known to have a few too many at a party when I kick back, but I’m never irresponsible about it. I’ve quit the chewing tobacco habit but I’ll admit I fall off the wagon once or twice a year—usually when I’m hunting with my best friend.

There are certain skills I’ve been told by the ladies that I possess which I will leave to your imagination because this is way too soon in our online correspondence to be talking about THAT. Just be assured, there have never been any complaints.

Anyway, it would be nice to talk to you by email, if you'd like. I don’t love being on the computer and I usually don’t turn it on too often, but I will now because I do hope to hear back from you soon.

By the way, I agree. I think you should definitely NOT date any doctors or any strange cowboys, for that matter.

Buddy

Ellen read the message twice through before sitting back. Her coffee sat cooling and untouched next to the computer. Could it be this Buddy was a genuine, honest, nice guy?

He didn’t try to make himself sound perfect. He admitted his faults and he did seem both smart and funny.

For the first time since joining this site, Ellen felt a flutter. She clicked over to his profile. No picture. Dammit. That must be it. He was a troll. Nice. Sweet. Honest. Funny…and too hideous to post a picture.

She sighed. She was being a shallow bitch. Looks didn’t matter all that much. Right? She should get to know him. Then, if they seemed to hit it off, maybe she could ask him for a picture. No, that would look bad, like she didn’t want to meet him unless he met her approval.

This online stuff sucked. Then again, live dating wasn’t so great either. How often had men she dated screwed her over? Or turned out to be assholes once you got to know them better?

That decided it. She’d respond to Buddy and see if there was any cyber chemistry between them. Might as well. What did she have to lose?

Hi Buddy,

It was nice to hear from you. I’ll admit it, you did make me smile. Say hi to your grandfather and his collie for me. Both sound very nice.

So you like horses. I’m a competitive barrel racer and my horse’s name is Bucky. I live in an apartment right now, so I have to board him, but one day my dream is to own or rent a house with a barn, or at least a run-in shed on the property so I can keep him at my own place. Do you ride?

I see you’re local. Do you ever get to the rodeo? Wouldn’t it be funny if we had both been there at the same time? Maybe we’ve passed each other!

Anyway, I hope you do remember to turn on your computer and get this message.

G.G.

Ellen frowned at the screen. What a bunch of boring crap. Why would any man want to date her after that message? But what else could she write?
Do you have big muscles because I love to grab them during sex and I haven’t had sex in forever and I’m ready to burst?

Nope, that would probably send the wrong message, true though it was.

There was always the alternative.
You sound perfect since my car is a piece of crap and I could really use a boyfriend who can fix it.

Also true but not so enticing. Might as well go with boring. She hit send and let out a loud breath. Dating sucked, no matter how you went about it. Yet her brother and Maryann had found each other. They had been acting all gooey-eyed and in love like two days after they met. Love at first sight. That had to be it. They were meant for each other and fate had thrown them together from a continent away.

So what was she supposed to do? Wait around and trust fate to throw her into the path of her soul mate? If that was the case, it had better hurry up because she was tired of waiting. And she didn’t have too much more time to wait around for a reply from her new online friend either. She had to grab something to eat before starting her shift at the hospital that afternoon.

The ringing of her cell phone in her purse had her jumping up. She frowned at the read out, surprised to see it was Shooter calling. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Uh, maybe nothing but I wanted to give you a call. I was here at the barn this morning checking on Mack and I noticed something was up with Bucky so I came back on my lunch break.”

Her heart clenched. “What’s wrong with Bucky?”

Ellen was already heading for her bedroom to get dressed. She had clean scrubs in her locker at work, so she could just slip into boots, jeans and a T-shirt and head for the barn. Getting dressed one-handed while she held the phone to question Shooter was proving to be a challenge though.

“He’s acting like he’s uncomfortable. Rolling, then bouncing up. It looks like he’s been walking in circles in the stall. He’s got all the shavings pushed up against the wall. It’s not like him. I’m thinking it’s colic.”

Shooter may be a dick sometimes, but he did know horses. She trusted him when he said something was wrong. Her heart lurched. She couldn’t stand it if something happened to Bucky. Worse, what if it wasn’t just colic? What if it was a bowel obstruction? She didn’t have enough in her savings to cover it if there was something wrong that required surgery. Hell, she barely had enough to cover a vet visit.

“Should I call the doctor?” She steeled herself for the answer.

“I’m gonna take him out and walk him around on the lead rope, if that’s okay with you. I think he needs to move. Let’s see if that helps him feel better. If not, then maybe you should call.” His voice held a calm sureness Ellen needed right now. He was concerned, she could tell, but distanced enough from the situation to be practical, which she totally was not.

“Okay. Do whatever you think is best. I’m on my way over now.”

“I’ll be here.”

Thank God Ellen’s car had decided to cooperate today. It not only started, but also showed impressive pickup for its tiny engine as she sped much too fast, breaking many traffic laws, to get to the barn. She peeled into the gravel lot and skidded to a stop, ignoring the nasty looks of a passing mother and daughter walking toward their car. She couldn’t deal with them now. She drove perfectly well any other time, but this was an emergency.

She ran first to Bucky’s stall and saw what Shooter had described. Judging by the state of the bedding on the stall floor, he’d been antsy and circling for hours. Ellen poked through the wood shavings with the toe of her boot. No visible manure. If Bucky wasn’t pooping, he could be bound up.

Her heartbeat sped with fear. She turned, exiting the barn. The sun glare blinded her briefly. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and after a moment spotted Shooter leading Bucky slowly around the outside of the practice ring. She took off at a run toward them.

“How is he?”

Shooter tipped his cowboy hat back but didn’t stop his slow pace. “He seems a little happier moving.”

She matched Shooter’s step, and reached out to run a hand down Bucky’s nose. “I can stay for about an hour, but then I’m going to have to go to work. I can’t miss my shift.”

Tears filled her eyes. She swallowed hard and hoped Shooter didn’t see them.

“I’ll stay with him.”

“What about your work?” She frowned up at the man who’d come to her rescue twice in the past few days. Actually more like three times, if she counted replacing her alternator. The guy who she’d always thought was the exact opposite of a knight in shining armor. Tarnished armor, maybe.

He shrugged. “I’ll call my boss. We got a lot done this morning. There wasn’t much more to do this afternoon.”

Ellen nodded, rendered speechless by his generosity. If he didn’t go to work, he didn’t get paid. He wasn’t any better off financially than she was, yet he was willing to do this for her. Or rather, for Bucky. Shooter always did have a soft spot for animals. She’d even seen the shine of tears in his eyes at the rodeo where one of the horses had to be put down after breaking his leg during a competition.

She took the rope from him and led Bucky herself, keeping the same slow pace. Shooter remained beside her. He was correct. The horse wasn’t acting right. Finally, she couldn’t ignore the obvious. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Give it a chance.”

She glanced at him, wanting desperately to believe he was right. He met her gaze, as if challenging her to doubt his expertise. For once, she didn’t want to argue with Shooter. She wanted to trust him and let him make this all better. She nodded. “Okay.”

Chapter Four

Shooter pushed the now emptied wheelbarrow to the corner of barn. He turned toward Bucky’s stall to check on him one more time before heading home when he saw a figure clad from head to toe in mint green leaning over the stall door.

Ellen. As unattractive as the boxy-shaped nurse’s scrubs were, she still looked good. He smiled. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here in the middle of your shift.”

Ellen spun and he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “I wanted to see him.”

“Don’t worry. He’s all right. I texted you to tell you he was doing much better.” He hesitated a second, then reached out and rubbed her back, hating the stiff feel of the fabric of her uniform.

She leaned into him. That was a change. Ellen was usually totally hands-off when it came to him. He decided to enjoy the gesture, even if it was only concern for the horse, or rather relief over his recovery that had driven her into his arms in the first place.

“I know you texted, but I was just so worried. I had to come over on my dinner break and see for myself.” Ellen drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “You really think he’s better?”

Shooter glanced at the horse, happily munching on some hay. “Yup. I just dumped the load of manure he passed. And I can assure you he’s hasn’t been lacking in the gas department either.”

He grinned. In horses passing gas was a good thing, but it could still make him grin like a schoolboy. So he was immature sometimes. Whatever.

“So it was the walking that helped, you think?” She glanced up. Her eyes, big and blue like pools of cool water, were still filled with concern.

Shooter shook off the idea of skinny-dipping with Ellen the image of a pool of water had put in his mind.

“Uh, yeah. That and a little home remedy.”

“What home remedy?” She pulled away to frown up at him.

“An old farmer taught me to give a horse whisky for colic.” He let his arm drop. There’d be no more back rubbing or anything else now, he was sure.

Ellen wasn’t going to like his remedy. Shooter knew her well enough to know that. She was always judgmental about his drinking. Finding out he’d given whisky to her horse would really piss her off. Though he kind of liked pissed-off Ellen—at least he was used to her. He could handle her. It was more familiar than teary-eyed Ellen.

“Whisky? You got my horse drunk?” She pivoted to look from the horse to Shooter, an angry glare in her eyes.

“Two shots of whisky are not going to get a twelve-hundred-pound horse drunk. And it worked, didn’t it?” When she crossed her arms and continued to glare at him, he returned her look with a scowl of his own. “Next time call the damn vet and pay for a farm visit if you don’t like the way I handle things.”

He tried not to watch her chest rise and fall as she let out a big huff.

“I’m sure it’s the walk that fixed him up, not the whisky.” She shot him another nasty look before turning her attention back to the horse.

And Shooter was quite sure of the opposite, since the horse was still acting like he was in pain until he’d went out and bought the bottle of whisky. In any case, the walk had also been his idea. He didn’t bother reminding her of that. Once her mind was set, there was no changing it.