The Trouble With Cowboys (12 page)

He cleared his throat and handed Annie the letter. The swing squawked as he settled back into it. He’d felt guilty about helping her with these letters because of his lack of experience when it came to love. With this one, however, that was not the case.

“She has to tell him the truth.”

He wrapped his hand around the swing’s cool metal chain, fighting the memories that made his gut ache.

Annie’s lips parted. Frown lines formed between her brows. Surely she agreed. True, they’d agreed on nothing so far, but she couldn’t advise this woman to hide the truth.

“What?” he asked, his voice on edge.

Annie blinked. “I guess I’m shocked. We actually agree that the reader should be honest.”

“The least she can do. She and her boyfriend can hardly go forward with that secret hovering between them.”

“Oh. I thought you meant—”

“What?”

“I just—I think she needs to tell him the truth about everything— including her feelings for her coworker.”

Dylan gave a wry smile. “You mean her one-night stand.”

“She said she has feelings for him.”

He waved that off. “Cold feet.”

Annie frowned. “She said something was missing between her and her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, ever since that idiot put the moves on her.”

“Why are you getting so—”

Dylan stood abruptly, the swing darting out behind him.

Annie jumped.

“I need some coffee.” He went inside, the screen door clacking shut behind him. He rubbed his neck where heat had gathered at the base of his skull. What was wrong with him? It was just a stupid letter, words on a page, people he didn’t know.

He grabbed two mugs and filled them, the stream of coffee wavering under his shaking hand. This wasn’t like him. Not at all.

He palmed the edge of the counter and took a couple breaths,
shaking off the heaviness that had settled over his shoulders like a lead blanket.
Get a grip, Taylor. This isn’t you, just some poor chump miles away
.

He straightened and carried the coffees back to the porch. When he handed Annie the mug, her gaze bounced off him.

“Sorry.” He sank onto the swing and sipped his coffee. “Subject matter too close to home, I guess.”

Annie’s eyes narrowed, and her lips softened into a tiny smile. It was a new expression, the kind that would make a lesser man spill his guts and thank her for it.

“Moving on . . . ,” he said. “You should probably just go with your gut on this one. Is there another letter?”

Annie pulled out a second from a woman asking if she should move in with her boyfriend of eleven weeks to solve her financial crisis. Fortunately he and Annie agreed on this one. After a brief discussion they wrapped it up for the night and said good night.

Dylan stood watching her taillights fade into the darkness. He’d tried to lighten things after he’d overreacted, but even the air had felt different after that letter. Heavy, weighted with something. Even now it swirled around his shoulders, threatening to press him into the ground.

He had to stop this. It was a long time ago and he was over Merilee. He needed something else to think about. Some
one
else to think about. He thought of Annie immediately, of the way she’d looked at him earlier. He could see how a man might fall right into those baby blues and not want to come out. Ever.

He shook his head, turning back toward the house. Never mind that she was with Oakley. They’d no doubt be spending the Fourth together, dancing to Sawyer Smitten’s love songs. Not that it mattered. Annie was the last thing he needed. He needed someone uncomplicated. Someone simple and fun.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed.

“Hey, Dylan!” Marla answered.

Her cheerful voice made him smile a little. “Feel like spending the day with me tomorrow?”

“At the festival or concert?”

“Both, if you’re free.”

“You betcha! But I’ll have to leave the concert early. I promised Pappy I’d help with the fireworks.”

“No problem. Pick you up in time for the parade, say nine thirty?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They said good-bye and hung up. Good old Marla. He could always count on her for a good time with no pressure to take the relationship to the next level.

As far as he was concerned, the next level only brought pain.

Dear Tempted,

    
Your instincts are telling you he’s not your Mr. Right. Don’t ignore these feelings. Sometimes they’re the only thing standing between you and a monstrous mistake.

14

T
he town square was packed. Annie had saved their place early in the day, but even so, they were midway back on the edge of the lawn.

Onstage, Sawyer Smitten struck up a quiet tune as the applause faded away. He looked the part of country singer in his jeans and cowboy hat. He had yet to play his most recent hit, “Smitten.”

Beside her, Sierra lifted her camera and snapped shots of Sawyer and his band. Ryder was looking sleepy after a full day of carnival games, junk food, and friends. Miss Lucy had doled out a pocketful of dollar bills before the parade, and Ryder’s eyes had gone wide as walnuts.

“Can I have another burger, Mommy?” he said over the crooning singer.

“You just had one an hour ago.”

“But they smell good.”

Sierra snapped another picture of Sawyer. “I agree, but I think you’ve had enough, puddin’. Here’s your rope. Go over there so you don’t block anyone’s view.”

“Yippee!” Suddenly wide awake, he gathered the coil, sprang to his feet, and threw it toward a planter.

Sierra snapped an action shot. “Careful you don’t hit anyone.”

The infernal rope went everywhere with the kid, especially since he’d managed to loop the fence post a few days ago. They’d heard little about anything else.

Turning away, Annie perused the area. Twinkling white lights were strung above the makeshift dance floor. Couples had gathered beneath them, dancing to the love song. She spotted Dylan and Marla Jenkins whirling around the floor. Date four?

Dylan could move, she’d give him that. And he seemed to be having a good time with his partner. She wondered if he and Marla were getting serious.

The thought had barely surfaced when Dylan spun Marla into someone else’s arms, and then he was dancing with Tina from the Mocha Moose. Dylan, committed to one woman? Ridiculous. She suddenly wished she weren’t sitting in front of the dance floor.

When the song ended, the band struck up another slow tune. Dylan gave Tina a high five as they parted ways, then he scanned the crowd. She got the feeling he was looking for her. Despite the absurd notion she slouched and turned toward Sierra, who was snapping more shots of Sawyer.

A moment later she spotted Dylan a few blankets away,
laughing with an unfamiliar woman. She tossed her blond hair over bare shoulders and tilted her head, gazing at Dylan like he’d hung the moon. Oh brother.

“For someone who doesn’t like Dylan,” Sierra said over the music, “you sure manage to find him in a crowd.”

“For your information, I was just thinking how much he annoys me.”

Sierra’s eyes sparkled as she raised the camera and snapped a shot of Annie. “That’s how it starts, you know.”

Annie rolled her eyes. What did her sister know? “How could you wish that on me? The last thing I need is a philandering cowboy like Dylan Taylor.”

“Oh, come on. How can you know he’s like that?”

“Look at him. He’s hardly with the same girl twice. If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck . . . it’s probably a duck.”

“Where’s a duck?” Ryder asked, his lariat at the ready.

Sierra laughed. “There’s no duck, sweetie.”

“Oh, yes there is,” Annie said under her breath.

“You’re too cautious. If it were me. . .”

“It’s not.” The thought of Sierra and Dylan made her insides twist.

“Well, if it
were
me, I’d sign up for a little uncertainty before I ever settled for boring.”

“John’s not boring.”

Sierra raised her delicate brows. “And yet you knew exactly who I was referring to.”

“You’re overlooking his better qualities. He’s smart and reliable and steady. There’s nothing wrong with steady, Sierra.”

“Steady . . . boring, same thing. Where’d he run off to anyway?”

“He has to be in Billings early tomorrow morning. Now hush, I want to hear the music.”

It was Sierra’s turn to roll her eyes.

The world went black as a pair of large hands covered Annie’s eyes. They were warm and rough and smelled of leather.

“Guess who?” His voice rumbled in her ear, his breath stirring her hair.

Gooseflesh pebbled her skin. She pulled Dylan’s hands away in time to see Sierra’s smirk. His knees were planted on the blanket behind her.

“Mr. Taylor!” Ryder dropped his rope and swooped in for a hug.

“Hey, little man.”

“I did it! I can loop the fence now!” He shrugged. “Well, sometimes I can.”

He ruffled Ryder’s hair. “I heard about that. You know what that means, right? You’re a real cowboy.”

Ryder bounced on the balls of his feet, too excited to stay earthbound. “Really?”

“You betcha.” Dylan picked up a bag she hadn’t noticed. “Got you something just today.” He handed Ryder the bag.

The boy opened it and pulled out a hat. His green eyes widened. “A real cowboy hat!”

“Should be just your size too,” Dylan said, setting it on his head.

Annie tamped down her frustration. Why couldn’t he just stay out of their business?

“Look, Mommy!”

“You look adorable. Say cheese!” When Ryder complied, she snapped the photo.

“Look, Aunt Annie, I’m a philandewine cowboy just like Mr. Taylor!”

Annie sucked in a breath. She looked away, toward the stage, toward Sawyer Smitten and his band, swaying under the lights.

Sierra laughed uneasily. “Now where’d he hear a word like that?”

“From Aunt—”

Sierra set a hand over his mouth. “Say thank you to Mr. Taylor, sweetie.” She pulled her hand away.

“Thanks, Mr. Taylor!”

“You’re welcome, big guy.”

Sierra grabbed Ryder’s hand. “Come on, Ryder, let’s go show off your hat on the dance floor.”

Annie nailed Sierra with a look.
Don’t you dare leave me! Don’t you dare—

And then she was gone, trotting toward the dance floor with Ryder in tow. Traitor.

Annie hoped the darkness hid her flush. She could feel Dylan behind her, and she wished he’d just go away. Find some other woman to pester, someone who actually enjoyed it.

He plopped down in Sierra’s spot.

Perfect. She picked a piece of grass and twirled it between her fingers.

“Where’s Spreadsheet tonight?”

“Stop calling him that. He—he had to turn in early. He has a very important meeting in the morning.”

“Ah, a meeting.”

He baited her with his tone, but she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. Instead, she watched Ryder trying to two-step his way around the dance floor with his mom. She hated to admit it, but he did look adorable in that hat. Still, she hoped he’d be back to Batman before his fifth birthday. Maybe she’d buy him a costume, complete with an official cape.

Dylan bent his legs and propped his elbows on his knees. “Seems like a great kid.”

For all Sierra’s flighty ways, she was a good mom. “He is.”

Onstage, Sawyer leaned down, extending his hands to the ladies in the front row.

“Mind if I ask about his dad?”

Annie shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.” Everyone knew Sierra had gone away for the summer and come home pregnant. Just like they knew the father had never bothered coming around.

“Rumors aren’t always true.”

“Well, that one was.”

Sierra had cried for months over a guy she refused to name, and it hadn’t been the pregnancy hormones. Annie could only imagine the hurt and betrayal she must’ve felt at his desertion. It had brought up all the feelings of unworthiness they’d both felt after their dad had left.

“She’s lucky to have you.”

Annie gave a wry laugh. “I’m not sure she’d always agree with that. It’s been an uphill battle. But she’s so close to finishing college. If she can just get through without throwing away her life, I’ll rest a lot easier.”

“Without falling in love with some philandering cowboy, you mean?”

Her palms grew sticky and the piece of grass stuck to one. She flicked it off and pulled her knees to her chest. “I just want her to be able to support herself. I know Sierra. Some man comes along and promises forever, she’ll drop out and be at his mercy.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

“Yeah, well, when your own dad takes off for parts unknown, it leaves you a little jaded.”