Her Unbridled Cowboy (Harland County Series) (5 page)

That was it.
That
was the
problem. Cripes. She’d never been easy. Ever. Yet, standing in the McCall’s
gathering room, all eyes upon her, she clearly saw the truth. She was
undeniably attracted to Connor McCall.

Ah fudge!

That wouldn’t do. No, it wouldn’t.
So,
heck ya!
She had a
problem
. Only about a million, and most of
them centered around the cowboy whose trademark grin was nowhere to be found. Jeez,
that earthquake shook her up more than she’d originally thought. Left her
vulnerable. She was weak in both heart and mind. Why else would she find the
cowboy so darned attractive?

Of course, none of that could be
shared. At least, not with the entire room. Had she had this conversation in
private, Kerri would be on her knees, pleading with her sister to up the date.

But, since the room was full of
questioning gazes and frowns and matchmakers galore, she had to revise her
response, and deal with a hefty dose of guilt.  What was wrong with her?
Goodness. What kind of sister was she? A few days ago, she’d nearly lost Jordan. Kerri’s chest squeezed tight. She loved her sister, would do anything for her
sister. She’d never felt more selfish. Poor Jordan and Cole had gone through so
much. It was their time to be happy. She had no business giving them grief over
their wedding date. None at all. If they wanted to wait for Valentine’s Day,
she’d do it. By God, she’d do it. Might be a blubbering fool by then, but she’d
manage, darn it!

“Of course there’s no problem,” she
rushed to say. “I-I’m just surprised you were both going to wait that long.”  

At least that much was true.

Jordan grasped Kerri’s hands and
smiled. “It’s only three months away, and between the preparations for the
engagement party and for the wedding, not to mention the holidays, it’ll go by
fast.”

“True,” Cole said, moving to stand
behind her sister before slipping an arm around Jordan’s waist. “But the main
reason for the delay is Kade. We’d really like to wait so he can be one of my
ushers.”

The McCall’s neighbor would be back
from deployment with the National Guard in a few weeks. Between sports and
rodeos, Connor and his best friend Kade, together with Cole and his buddy
Kevin—Kade’s cousin—had been inseparable in their youth. The Daltons and the
McCalls. The four musketeers, or
caballeros
as she remembered the boys
liked to call themselves.

Kerri nodded at the happy couple. “That’s
nice.”

“We really want him to be a part of
our wedding.” Jordan glanced at Connor. “He’ll be back in early February,
right?”

“Yeah.” The cowboy cleared his
throat and stepped closer. “His unit is due in February 5
^th
.”

“That’s what I thought,” Cole said,
and the whole room seemed to wear a matching grin.

Weird.

“It’ll be so nice to have him back
safe and sound in Harland County,” Mrs. McCall exclaimed, her smile misting
over. “I just hate it when he’s deployed.”

According to Kerri’s parents, the
McCalls had taken to watching over Mrs. Dalton’s children, Jen and Kevin and
their cousin Kade when Mrs. Dalton had passed almost ten years ago.

Mr. McCall ambled up behind his
wife and squeezed both of her shoulders. “He’ll be fine, and it’s nice of
Jordan and Cole to wait for his return.”

“Wouldn’t dream of letting Jordan make an honest man out of me without him.” Cole smiled and let out an ‘
umph
’
when his fiancée elbowed him in the ribs.

“And I wouldn’t dream of having
this wedding without Kerri as my maid-of-honor.” Jordan turned to her and tipped
her head. “What do you say?”

“Of course,” she replied, hugging
her sister tight. “Anything for you.”

Jordan drew back and smiled. “Thank
you.”

It really did Kerri’s heart good to
see her sister happy, and not the
fake
happy she’d tried to pass off as
real a few times the last two years. The sparkle in Jordan’s eyes and flush to
her cheeks were the real deal, and certainly enough to set Kerri’s world right
again.

At least, for the time being.

“What about you, bro?”

Cole’s voice broke through her
thoughts, and she focused on the younger McCall as he placed a hand on his
brother’s shoulder.

“Are you up to being my best man?”

Connor grinned wide enough to bare
his twin dimples. “Absolutely.”

Best man…

The urge to clap trembled through Kerri’s
hands when realization dawned. She resisted. Barely.
I get to stand up with
Connor
.
Oh, goodie
.

Not.

As she took a sip of the bubbly
that was once again shoved in her hands, she swallowed it down along with her
apprehension.

So much for going back to California this year
.

Still, she had to admit, Valentine’s
Day was an appropriate date for the happy couple. Theirs was a match made in
heaven and brought together by fate.  What better day for the two of them to
pledge their love for each other than on the most romantic day of the year? 

Truly perfect.

Now, if Kerri could just figure out
how to avoid Connor for the next three months...

 Her gaze shifted across the room
to
Mr. Tall Broad and Manly
laughing it up at something his father had
said.

Dang cowboy always seemed to turn
her orderly world upside down.  And she liked orderly. Liked it just fine.
Thrived on it, even.

Lifting her glass to her lips, Kerri
studied his broad back and narrow waist, and smirked as visions of Connor in
red briefs filled her head. 

Boxers indeed.

I
t wasn’t going to
work.

Whatever the matchmakers had
planned, whatever they thought they were going to accomplish by delaying
Kerri’s departure…it wasn’t going to work. Connor’s mind reeled several days
later as he strode through the cattle barn on his way to see his foreman. Keeping
the poor girl in Texas when she clearly wanted to run back to California was a
mistake. A big mistake.

Who was he trying to kid?

It was damn brilliant. A few weeks of
bumping into the beautiful, vulnerable chef he could handle, but a few
months
?
Hell no. He was in trouble. Big trouble.
Standing in the middle of cow-patty
pasture with no rocks in sight
trouble.

In other words, deep shit.

He was a strong man. Both
physically and mentally, but he wasn’t stupid. He was under no illusions that
he could resist the strange pull Kerri had over him. But resist he would, until
he was down for the count, hogtied and drew in his very last breath of
freewill.

The visual his thoughts conjured
soured Connor’s gut and twisted his lips. Cripes. He was tired of being a pansy
ass. No more. The last three females he let into his heart took advantage of
his good nature, wrapped him around their little finger, siphoned out what they
could get, then tossed him in a dumpster with last week’s garbage.

He was nobody’s garbage. And
although he didn’t lump Kerri in the
bitch
category, she
was
in
the city girl category, and he wasn’t taking any chances with his heart. Never
again. Ever. Hell, his heart was off the market. Permanently.

Were the next three months going to
be tough?
Hell yeah
. Was he going to give into his attraction to the
west coast beauty?
Hell no
. Was he just whistling Dixie?

God, I hope not.

The sound of amicable voices broke
through his thoughts.

“I know. And the rice pudding? She
had some kind of spice in there. I ain’t never tasted nothing quite like it
before,” Hank Thompson, his fifty-four year old ranch foreman stated to the
four supervisors standing around drinking coffee. “My wife asked for the
recipe.”

Connor groaned inwardly and slowed
his approach. No need to ask who or what they were all talking about. Only one
cook could put a smile on a man like the one consuming Hank’s weathered face.

Kerri.

He’d specifically avoided the
stable knowing there was a small chance the dang visiting temptress could waltz
in and disrupt his fledgling resolve.

Now he wondered why he even
bothered.

“It was right nice of her to think
of us and send food over on Thanksgiving when she had her own dinner to worry
about at the main house,” Joe, one of the supervisors stated.

She did?

Connor shouldn’t be surprised.
Kerri always did think of others. He remembered when she was young and Emma
would offer her a cookie, she’d always ask if her sister or Cole and Connor
could have one, too. Always.

He shook his head. Why in the world
did that memory stick with him after all this time? And why the hell did it
matter?

It didn’t.

He straightened his shoulders and
walked up to his men. Men who didn’t necessarily need him to carry out their
jobs. He’d handpicked and trained every one of them, and was replete in the
knowledge his ranch could run without him. Exactly what he’d intended. This
afforded him the leeway to participate in a rodeo or head to an auction without
the added worry chores would go undone because he wasn’t around.

That didn’t mean he didn’t work.
No. Just the opposite. He worked his ass off. Could do any job on the ranch and
did. Often working side-by-side with the men and women he employed. He believed
in leading by example.

A quality he’d learned from his
grandfather William McCall. The man, who for eighty some years, had given
blood, sweat and tears to Wild Creek. Tall and lean, right up until his heart
had failed him five years ago, Will had been Connor’s mentor, and every day he
strived to live up to his granddaddy’s name.

Old Will had led the ranch through
the depression, dust storms, droughts, wars and even a flood, and still he
never once failed his family or crew. He ran the ranch with a fair and just
hand, and now Connor carried on the legacy.

His father and Cole had a head and
passion for business. But Wild Creek was in Connor’s blood. He loved the open
range, the livestock, hills, creeks, horses, cattle drives, auctions and the
day-to-day trials that came with running the ranch. If he had to wear a suit
and work in an office, he’d shrivel up and die.

Hell no.
He tugged absently
at his collar. No monkey suit or walls to pen him in. He needed the sky above
him and God’s green earth beneath his boots to keep him sane. Surviving long
term in a city was beyond his ability. And not an option.

“There he is now,” Hank said, bringing
Connor’s mind back around to the men. “The lucky stiff who got to partake in a
full meal cooked by the little lady last Thursday.”

The guys murmured things like,
“
yeah
”
and “good for you.” while some even slapped his back.

“Imagine tasting her vittles every
day,” Pete, another of his men chimed in. “Lucky bastard.”

Now, Connor knew they meant food.
He
knew
it, but that didn’t stop every muscle, bone and organ in his
body to stiffen at once. Cripes. He was a six-foot-four-inch piece of hard
wood. Throbbing wood.

The men stared at him, waiting. For
a reply, or did they know he was about to blow? And it wasn’t a gasket. Damn
it. One beat passed then another. He blew out a breath before clearing his
throat.

“True,” he said, scratching the
bridge of his nose. “Kerri’s a great cook.”

The men nodded again.

“You should hang on to that one,”
Joe told him.

“Yeah,” Art agreed. “Don’t let her
get away.”

Ah, hell. Not them too.
The
last thing he needed was his foreman and supervisors to jump on his parents’ bandwagon.

“She’s just a friend.” He pushed passed
them to get to the coffee pot in the make-shift break area set up in an empty
stall. It was too early for this crap.

They were supposed to have their
morning meeting where they discussed the day’s itinerary. He may not want to
work in an office, but he did see the merit of structure and teamwork. He had a
foreman who watched over the supervisors who watched over the workers in their
crews. Their morning meetings were to discuss issues and jobs, not sweet, sexy,
unsettling cooks, dammit. So why the hell were they discussing Kerri?

“Bull,” Hank said. “The two of you
don’t look at each other like friends.”

“Yeah.” Cal nodded. “You should do
something about it.”

Connor poured a cup and shook his
head. “No.”

Did his parents put them up to
this?

“Why not?” Hank asked.

Ah hell, they’d all followed him
into the break room.

“She sure is pretty.”

Connor didn’t need Joe pointing it
out. Cripes. He knew Kerri was pretty. Hell, she was gorgeous. But that didn’t
matter.

“I wouldn’t mind giving it a go, if
she’d have me.”

“Pete, even your mama won’t have
you,” Art replied, and they all laughed, including Connor.

“Seriously, though.” Hank cupped
his shoulder and stared up at him. “We’ve all seen the way you look at her, and
she looks at you.”

He snorted into his coffee. There
goes his foreman with that
looking
thing again. The past year during her
visits, Kerri had looked at him, alright…but her gaze had been mostly friendly,
sometimes guarded, sometimes apprehensive, and admittedly, that tore at his
gut. It hadn’t sat right with him. Made his chest ache.

He would never hurt her. Ever. Why
would she be afraid of him? Was it because of her ex-husband? So help him, if
that man had laid a hand on her, he’d hunt him down and…

And what?

Connor expelled another breath.
Nothing. It wasn’t his concern.
She
wasn’t his concern.

And
he
wasn’t their concern. 
“You’re all imagining things. We’re just friends,” he said again. “Besides, Kerri’s
going back to L.A. after the wedding.”