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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

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BOOK: Cowboy Up
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“Leave that to me. I’ll tie them down. Cowboys are good with rope.”

“I still don’t see how we’ll have time to fool around, Clay. We have to fill the torches and plant them in the ground, you know.”

He had that figured out, too. “We’ll have an assembly line. You fill and I’ll ram them in the dirt. There’s sort of a sexual rightness to that, don’t you think?”

She shook her head. “I think you’re fixated on sex, so anything would be sexual to you.”

“You’re probably right about that, but I have my reasons why I’m fixated.”

“Yes, and they’re all located below your belt.”

He swerved around a curve, sending a plume of dust ten feet in the air. “That’s also true.” He took a deep breath. “Emily, there’s no point in kidding ourselves. I’m afraid our happy little arrangement is going to be over very soon.”

“That’s a given. I’m leaving on Saturday.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about hours, not days.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling I have, that all hell is going to break loose. Your dad’s going to find out about us. I don’t know why I thought he wouldn’t. Just cocky, I guess. I’m not sure how the truth will come out, but I think it will. And once it does…”

“I hope you’re wrong. I mean, it’s his birthday.”

“I know. And you want it to be all sweetness and light.” Clay hit a straightaway and took it as fast as he dared, given that he was constantly on alert for critters crossing the road. Usually the loud roar of a racing engine sent them scurrying.

He raised his voice above the noise of the engine. “Did your dad say anything to you about me today?”

“Yes!” She had to yell to be heard. “He told me not to make the same stupid mistake he and my mother made!”

As the road began to curve, Clay slowed the truck again. “See, he knows. Whether he knows everything, I’m not sure. But somebody on the ranch has enough information to bring us down. It could happen any time.”

“You’re certainly a cheerful companion for this shopping trip.”

“I’m just trying to make my case. I want to guarantee that I will hold you one more time. That’s why I brought the condom.”

“And where do you think you’ll be able to accomplish this?”

“I don’t know that yet. Not the picnic site. Even if no one’s delivering stuff or arranging it, they would have left one of the hands to guard the place from critters. But I plan to make it happen. You can count on that. So, are you with me?”

“Yes, but—”

“That’s all I need to know.” Desire surged through him. “Now, hang on.”

14

E
MILY HUNG ON
. W
HEN THEY
turned onto the asphalt road leading to Shoshone, she watched for any vehicle with lights mounted on the roof. Maybe because it was a Thursday instead of the weekend, they didn’t see a single patrol car as Clay proceeded to demolish the speed limit.

Emily had always thought of the little town—located far enough from Jackson that it missed most of the tourist traffic—as boring because it didn’t change much. Today she realized that having local families running the same businesses year after year gave the town a neighborly atmosphere.

She had no time to enjoy that, though, because Clay had the tiki torches tied down in the back of the truck before she’d finished paying for them.

“Ready?” he called from the doorway of the feed store.

She grabbed her change and thanked the man behind the counter.

“Welcome! I’ll see you folks out there tonight!”

“Right!” Emily should have figured that most of the town was invited to the cookout. That’s the way things worked around here. She dashed to the truck where Clay was holding the passenger door open for her. “I thought you’d be in the driver’s seat ready to take off,” she said as she hopped in.

“Just because I’m in a hurry doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my manners.” He closed the door and jogged around the cab. Emily smiled.
Cowboys. Gotta love ’em.
Then she blinked. Had that thought really gone through her mind? Yes, it certainly had, and she felt something give way inside her as years of dammed-up feelings began to surface.

She didn’t hate cowboys, or the cowboy way of life. She didn’t hate ranching or horses or dirt. That was her mother who disliked all those things. Emily had grown up hearing it, and somewhere along the way, she’d adopted her mother’s prejudices as her own. Understandable, but still very sad.

“Are you watching for cops?”

She turned to him, joy washing through her as she recognized that she could love this man. She’d been battling the urge to do that because of who he was and where he lived. She didn’t have to battle anymore. “No.”

“Why not? And why are you grinning at me like that?”

“Because I just had an epiphany, which is amazing because I’m not standing on that sacred site you told me about.”

“I’m happy for you, but if you don’t help me look for the fuzz, we’ll have a citation to go along with that epiphany.”

“Okay. I can do that.” But she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she began scouring the side of the road for patrol cars lying in wait for the likes of Clay Whitaker.

“What’s your epiphany?”

“I can’t tell you yet.” She wasn’t about to blurt out that she was falling in love with him while he was barreling down the road and had to concentrate. “But I can tell you that I had a blast working with Calamity Sam this morning. I had no idea that my dad’s job was that much fun.”

“Just so you know, it’s not all fun.”

“So tell me all the down sides to working with horses.” She probably needed a reality check to go along with her epiphany.

“Summers are great, but we still have to take care of the horses in the winter. We usually run ropes between the main buildings down to the barn, so if we get caught in a snowstorm, we won’t get disoriented and freeze to death.”

“Wow. Sounds like a challenge. Do you hate the winters, then?” She’d never been here during the winter. Maybe she’d hate that part.

“I don’t, actually. The barn’s heated, and working in there when the wind’s howling outside is kind of cozy. In fact, being anywhere inside is cozy. We have a potbellied stove in the bunkhouse, and of course there’s the big fireplace in the main house. Christmas is great. The Chances always have a huge tree, and the hands put one up in the bunkhouse, too.”

“So you’re pretty much guaranteed a white Christmas every year.”

“Yep.” He was quiet for a moment. “Thinking of coming back for Christmas?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” She was thinking of doing far more than that, but it was a huge decision. She wanted to rush headlong into it, but she was trying to be more practical. “How do you feel about the riding part of your job?”

“Love it, especially when I have the chance to take a horse on a good run across the meadow. I feel like the king of the world when I can do that. Why?”

Excitement skittered down her spine. “I’ve never had the chance to ride like that. Dad was always worried about me falling, plus I refused to wear practical riding clothes and boots. But I’d like to try riding fast.” Judging from the times she’d been on horseback, she could easily imagine substituting a galloping horse for a powerful wave. Everything was falling into place. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“That would be great.” Riding with him would fit perfectly with her epiphany. “So what do you dislike about your work? Tell me all the bad stuff.”

“Some people complain about shoveling manure, but I don’t mind that. Others complain about getting up early, but I don’t mind that, either. It’s not a nine-to-five job, either. You never quite leave it.”

“But if you’re doing something you love, no matter what it is, you never quite leave it anyway, do you?”

He thought about that. “I suppose not.”

“But I’m sure there’s at least one really bad downside to your job.”

“There is. Horses are more delicate than you’d think. They get sick. They die.”

“Okay, that would be tough.” She thought of Calamity Sam as he cavorted around the corral and tried to steal carrots. Yes, that would be a downside, for sure.

“It’s hard both emotionally and financially,” Clay said. “That’s why I’m glad the Chances agreed to start collecting and shipping semen. When you depend entirely on the sale of horses, you’re too vulnerable to illness and death. But semen is an asset that’s not so likely to go south on you.”

“Would you call it a liquid asset?” She was trying so hard not to laugh.

“Not always. Sometimes it’s a frozen asset.”

She couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was kidding her or not, but she couldn’t hold back her laughter another second. “Sorry,” she managed through her giggles. “I know it’s a serious subject, but—”

“No, it’s not.” He looked over at her and grinned. “Politics and religion are serious subjects. This is a conversation about horse ejaculate. How serious can that be?”

“I didn’t want to mock what you do for a living.”

“No mock taken. Still watching for cops?”

“I am, I promise, because you’re still speeding.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.” He hesitated. “Mind if I ask why all the questions about my job?”

“Just collecting data for my new project.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll tell you later. Oh, slow down, slow down! There’s a patrol car off to the right side of the road.”

“I see it.” He let up on the gas.

Emily held her breath as they drove past the cop. When the patrol car stayed on the side of the road and didn’t pull out after them, she sighed in relief. “I
really
don’t want us to get a ticket.”

“Us?”

“Well, you would get the ticket, of course, but—”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I liked that you said
us
.”

“Me, too.”

C
LAY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO THINK
. All this talk about an epiphany followed by a bunch of questions about raising horses for a living told him that something was going on in that beautiful head of hers. She might be thinking that life on a ranch wasn’t so bad, after all.

He could thank himself for that, because good sex could have a powerful effect on a person. From what he’d gathered from Emmett, good sex had been part of why Emmett and Jeri had decided to get married, even though Jeri wasn’t the ranching type. Emmett had been so worried about history repeating itself, and now it seemed like a legitimate concern.

Clay had never consciously set out to change Emily’s mind about ranch life, but motivations were tricky things. Deep down, he might have hoped that she’d start thinking more kindly about cowboys in general and him in particular. He might have gotten his wish, and now he had to deal with the potential problem he’d caused for both of them.

He couldn’t pretend anymore that this was all about sex. He was falling for her. Her use of the word
us
had demonstrated how fast he was falling, because he’d loved hearing her say it. He wanted to hear her say it some more.

But whatever this supposed epiphany was, she couldn’t trust it. Her hormones were in control, not her brain, and at some point he’d have to tell her that. Depressing as that thought was, it was followed by one even more depressing. All things considered, he shouldn’t have sex with her again.

He shouldn’t have surrendered to temptation in the first place, but that was water under the bridge. No sense in beating himself up for something that he couldn’t change. He could change his current plan, though, so he wouldn’t add fuel to the fire.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” she said.

“Just thinking.”

“Anything I need to know about?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s enigmatic.”

“Oh, you know cowboys. We’re the strong, silent type.” He turned right onto the dirt road leading to the ranch. The entrance, with its poles on either side of the road and another over the top to hold the Last Chance Ranch sign, always gave his heart a lift as he drove through it.

He hoped maybe Emily could feel the same someday. But she had to love the ranch for itself, and not because she’d fallen for him and wanted to find a way they could be together.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’m going to speed up.”

“Go for it.” Her green eyes sparkled under the shade of her straw hat.

If only he could. He gripped the wheel and stepped on the gas. He concentrated on his driving and tried not to think about Emily sitting there beside him.

He’d promised her they’d have sex, but it was a promise he’d have to break, for her sake and maybe for his, too. After bragging about how easily he could protect himself emotionally, he’d done a piss-poor job of it. He’d known she’d be sexy, but he hadn’t counted on her being fun and endearing. Bottom line, he was already dreading the day she drove away.

The trip to the picnic site was a wild ride, but not for the reason he’d originally given Emily. He wanted to be finished with this job so he could take her back to the house and put some distance between them. Nobility would be far easier when she wasn’t close enough to touch.

But he wouldn’t leave her hanging, either. She shouldn’t have to wonder why he’d changed his mind. He didn’t play those kinds of games. So instead of making love to her, he’d explain exactly why he wasn’t doing that.

“Wow, it looks different out here,” she said as they pulled up behind one of the ranch trucks.

“It better look different. The party’s in a few hours.” He got out and waved at Jeb, a young ranch hand with red hair and freckles. Jeb must have been assigned to guard duty because he was sitting on a bench talking on his cell phone.

By the time he came around the truck to let Emily out, she’d opened the door and was ready to hop down. “Your manners are wonderful.” She jumped to the grassy edge of the road. “But we need to get this done.”

“Hey, I can help.” Jeb walked toward the truck, tucking his cell phone in his jeans pocket as he approached. “Sarah just called and said you’d be coming with tiki torches. In fact, I can take care of the whole job if you want. There’s nothing much else to do out here and I’m supposed to stay until everyone rides out.”

Clay took a look around. Wood was piled in both fire pits, and every table was decorated with a red checkered oilcloth attached to it with metal clamps. One table held boxes of nonperishables, and the coolers were stacked in the back of the ranch truck with a tarp over them.

Jeb shrugged. “It’s all done. I may drag some fallen tree branches out here from the woods and chop them up for extra firewood, but other than that, we’re good to go.” He glanced at Emily. “It’s sure nice that you could make it for your dad’s birthday, Emily.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad I could, too. It’s Jeb, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His face was shaded by his hat, but that didn’t completely disguise the blush that made his freckles disappear. “Saw you working with Calamity Sam this morning.”

“I had fun.”

“Yes, ma’am. That yearling is lots of fun. I remember one time he managed to let himself out of the corral. I had to chase him all over the yard, but I finally caught him. And then there was this other time when he—”

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’d better get going.” Clay knew that if he didn’t say something, Jeb would keep talking forever, just to maintain a connection with Emily. Clay had been like Jeb ten years ago—totally infatuated. “So if you’ll help unload the torches and set them up for us, that would be great. Sarah wants them in a circle surrounding the picnic tables.”

“I know.” Jeb nodded. “For the mosquitoes. That’s a really good idea. Emily, I don’t know if you’ve experienced Wyoming mosquitoes, but they—”

“With luck we won’t experience them tonight,” Clay said. “Let’s get those torches unloaded so you can start putting them up.”

“You bet.” Jeb seemed to take the hint and headed for the back of the truck. When Emily followed him, he paused. “You don’t need to be hauling torches, Emily. Clay and I can handle this.”

Emily exchanged an amused glance with Clay. “Thanks, Jeb. I’ll go relax in the truck.”

“You do that.” Jeb proceeded to unload the torches with as much swagger as possible, carrying one on each shoulder over to the picnic tables.

Clay sighed, understanding the impulse far too well. He wasn’t so different from Jeb, after all. This morning he’d paraded across Emily’s line of vision carrying the collection canister on his shoulder because she’d commented on how manly he’d looked doing it the day before.

Once the torches were unloaded, Clay shook hands with Jeb and climbed back in the truck. “That’s done.”

“Yes.” She gave him a sideways glance filled with meaning. “That’s done. Now what?”

He started the truck and made a U-turn so they were headed back toward the ranch house. “Now we find a private place to talk.”

BOOK: Cowboy Up
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