The Trouble With Cowboys (6 page)

Annie stopped, letting Dylan approach alone.

“Hey, buddy. How’s my big guy? Yeah . . . it’s okay.”

Braveheart lifted his head and whinnied as Dylan neared.

“Keep talking.”

“How you doing, Braveheart?” Dylan held out his hand, and Braveheart nuzzled it. A moment later the horse nickered quietly, greeting him.

“That’s my boy.” Dylan tossed Annie a smile over his shoulder, then patted Braveheart’s side and scratched his neck, murmuring softly. Hope surged through his veins. Maybe the horse would make it after all.

Dylan smiled at Annie as she approached. “You’re a miracle worker. Last time I tried this, he wouldn’t stand for it.”

“He still has a long way to go.” She let Braveheart sniff her hand.

“What’s next?”

“I’m afraid we’re losing daylight. Go ahead and lead him back to his stall. Stay on his right side and keep talking.”

He started toward the barn, instructing Braveheart to walk, and the horse followed. The woman knew what she was doing.

“He’ll have to rely on your verbal cues now,” Annie said, trailing behind them. “Treat him normally, or you’ll have a real mess on your hands.”

Braveheart lost his footing on the threshold and grew agitated as he entered the barn with the other animals.

“Use your cues.”

Dylan did, and Braveheart snorted but followed a moment later, stopping when Dylan cued him.

When he had the horse settled in a stall with fresh hay and water, he gave Braveheart a final pat and followed Annie into the darkening yard.

“He hasn’t let me near him since I let him out last week. I was starting to think—” He turned his eyes on her. Gratitude welled up inside him. “You’re flat amazing, Annie.”

She lowered her eyes, then looked out over the pasture. “It’s not rocket science.”

“Don’t discount your skill.” He set his hat back on his head.

“Let him out again tomorrow, but remember, stay on his right, and make sure there are no other horses in the field. Lead him around the fence line again so he knows his boundaries. And keep using verbal cues.”

“All right.”

“I’ll stop by next week and check on him.”

“We’d better get cracking on your column. Stay for supper?”

Her lips went lax, drooping at the corners. Had she forgotten about his end of the deal?

“Just sandwiches, but you must be hungry.”

“No thanks. This shouldn’t take long. Let’s just sit on the porch—it’s a nice evening.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He had to admit, he’d felt a little guilty since he’d agreed to this deal. He wasn’t sure how much help he was going to be. After all, he’d only been in love once, and that hadn’t ended so well.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as Annie stopped by her truck to collect her things.

It was Wade’s cell. He grinned. Probably Maddy calling with boy troubles again. She’d called for advice three times in the last two days.

“’Scuse me.” He continued walking as he answered. “Uncle Dylan, at your service.”

“It’s Wade. I need a favor.” His voice was tense, and Cody bawled in the background.

Dylan stopped at the foot of the porch steps. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Maddy. Calf stepped on her hand—think it might be broken.”

“What can I do?”

“Abby’s in Bozeman, and Cody’s screaming bloody murder—”

“Say no more. Be right over.” In between Cody’s cries, he could hear Maddy sniveling in the background.

“I’m headed toward the clinic now. You home?”

“Yeah, bring him over.”

Dylan closed his phone. He hoped Maddy hadn’t broken her hand.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, approaching.

He repeated the information as he took the porch steps. “Come inside. I should get some things up off the floor.”

Annie stepped toward her truck. “I should go.”

“No, have a seat. I’ll be right out.” Dylan went inside, hoping she’d hang around, but too concerned about Maddy to give it much
thought. He snatched a pocketknife off the end table and a glass bowl from the coffee table. Last time they’d brought Cody over, he’d put everything he could grasp into his mouth.

What else? He set the fireplace tools in the closet and was shoving the ottoman in front of the staircase when he heard Wade’s truck barreling down the drive.

He rushed out and met Wade as he shoved the truck into park. Cody was still wailing from the backseat. Dylan opened the back door and looked at Maddy in the passenger seat. She held her hand suspended in midair.

“Sorry,” Wade said over his shoulder. “He’s tired and not one bit happy about being put in that thing.”

Dylan unlatched the seat belt and worked the car seat loose. “How ya doing, tough girl?” he asked Maddy.

Her lip wobbled. “Fine.”

He grabbed the car seat and lifted the wailing eleven-monthold baby. “Hang in there, Maddy.”

“Don’t forget the bag,” Wade said.

Dylan shouldered the diaper bag and shut the door.

“Thanks, buddy,” Wade said through the open window. “Don’t know how long it’ll be. . .”

“I can keep him overnight if that’ll help.”

“I’ll let you know.” Wade nodded once, turned the truck around, and headed down the drive.

The outdoor light on his barn had kicked on, making a puddle of light in the dirt. Annie sat on the porch in the shadows. He took the steps and set the car seat down, then flipped on the porch light and freed the wailing Code-meister. Tears clung to his dark lashes, and his bottom lip quivered with righteous indignation.

“Come here, little guy.”

Annie made to stand. “We can do this another time.”

“Sit tight. Please. He’ll settle down real quick.” He pulled Cody to his shoulder. The baby’s back was hot, and his forehead felt damp against Dylan’s neck. He bounced Cody, pacing the length of the porch. The little guy smelled baby fresh and was already in his pj’s. “Shh, Uncle Dylan’s here.”

Within a minute Cody’s cries petered out to wobbly sniffles. “Thatta boy.” He rubbed the baby’s back as he passed Annie and took a seat on the swing, setting it into motion.

A moment later Cody dropped his head to Dylan’s chest and gave a long, shuddery sigh.

Annie watched the baby nuzzle into Dylan’s neck. His thick arm supported Cody’s weight, and he rubbed the baby’s back. The motion of the swing made Cody’s eyelids flutter until they remained closed.

The picture in front of her seemed contrary to everything she knew about Dylan Taylor. But she couldn’t deny there was something inordinately appealing about a man with a baby. She decided she preferred her preconceived notions to the ones forming now.

“He asleep?” Dylan whispered.

She nodded, smiling despite herself at the way Cody’s chubby cheeks were smooshed against Dylan’s shirt. “He’s a doll.”

“He’s a keeper. I sure hope Maddy’s okay.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. You’ve probably broken a bone or two yourself.”

He tilted a smile. “Or seven.” He settled back into the swing, shifting Cody. “Why don’t we get started on your letters?”

“Just one this time.” She filled him in on the column and her instructions from Midge, then she handed him the letter.

She watched him discreetly as he read. He took up most of the swing with those broad shoulders. His brim hid his eyes but exposed his well-trimmed sideburns and five o’clock shadow. His lips, unsmiling for once, were nicely shaped and bowed on top.

Okay, so she saw the appeal. She could appreciate God’s handiwork without wanting him for herself. So long as he kept that cowboy hat on to remind her what he was, she’d be just fine and dandy.

He looked up and passed her the letter, setting his hand on Cody’s back. “Seems pretty clear to me,” he said quietly.

“She should give him another chance?”

“You kidding me?” His lips tilted up as he shook his head. “Sugar, you’re way off. She’s gotta dump the dude, the sooner the better.”

Not him too. “Seriously? Look, I know he blew it, but he shows clear indication of remorse, and there is a child involved, after all. Isn’t it worth a second chance?”

“They’re not even married yet. What’s she gonna do when he cheats on her then?”

“Who says he will? She said he’s willing to make it up to her. Maybe a little counseling would get them back on track.”

He gave a wry laugh. “Counseling.”

“It can work.”

“Sure it can.”

His grin was getting on her nerves. “Maybe he’s learned his lesson, did you ever think about that?”

“He’s a cheater.”

“Oh, come on, like you’ve never cheated.”

The smile fell and the fun fizzled from his face, his eyes going as flat as day-old soda.

She wished she hadn’t said it, but it was too late to call it back. Still, you couldn’t tell her a skirt-chaser like Dylan was true blue.

“You wanted my opinion and you got it,” he said quietly. “Sorry if it doesn’t jibe with yours.”

Her stomach twisted at his calmness. Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but if the truth hurt, was it her fault?

Her phone rang and vibrated in her pocket. Cody didn’t so much as stir.

She checked the screen. John. She didn’t want to take the call, but she was desperate to extricate herself from the awkward moment.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He dipped his head and gestured toward the phone.

Annie stood and answered as she crossed the porch. “Hi, John.”

“Annie. I tried you at home, but Sierra said you were still working.”

“Yeah, a late one tonight.”

“One of Dylan Taylor’s horses?”

She was going to thump Sierra upside the head. “Yes.”

“You’re losing daylight.”

It didn’t take a mind reader to pick up on his jealousy. “I’m about done. Can I call you when I get home?”

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the Chuckwagon again this Saturday. The Silver Spurs are playing—I know you like them.”

Behind her, the swing squawked rhythmically on its hinges. She’d been thinking about calling it quits with John after their first kiss, but she hadn’t made up her mind yet. Maybe the dud first kiss was a fluke. Maybe she needed to give it more time. Or maybe she was feeling desperate.

“Sure, that sounds fine.”

He set a time to pick her up, and she closed her phone and tucked it into her pocket.

“Date with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” She began gathering her things.

“Leaving so soon?”

“We’re pretty much done here.”

“Didn’t take long.”

“There’ll be two or three letters next time.”

He rose, supporting Cody’s weight. “How are you going to answer?”

She hitched her handbag on her shoulder. “I’m not sure.” She had to write the column tomorrow, and so far it was two against one.

She made to leave, but he took her arm. “We still have a deal, right?”

The porch light hit his face, highlighting the worry lines on his forehead. His eyes looked like melting caramel. His hand loosened on her arm, and his thumb moved back and forth, sending a shiver up her arm.

“I’m not going back on my word just because we don’t agree.” Or because he looked like heaven with a baby in his arms. Or because his touch made her feel things that made her want to run for the hills.

“I could just tell you what you want to hear.”

Yeah, he was good at that. She shifted away from him. “You keep telling me what you think, and I’ll keep helping your horse.”

The lines faded as his lips lifted. “Thanks.”

She said good night and scurried down the porch steps before the sight of his dimple beckoned her back.

Dear Jealous,

    
Nothing brings out the green monster like seeing your woman with someone else . . .