How to Wrangle a Cowboy (38 page)

And if Shane didn’t believe that, then she guessed they were only together for the sex. The great, toe-curling, head-thrown-back, ecstatic, crazy sex.

Because he wasn’t the kind of man she could love.

Chapter 47

Shane jerked his truck into park and stormed up to the Decker Ranch house, wading through the cloud of dust raised by his abrupt arrival. He needed this place now, and he needed his brothers. This was his home and his family.

The Lazy Q was just a job.

Well, it was a little more than that. There was Grace, after all. Right now, she was playing Grandma and watching Cody for him.

Brady and Ridge were seated at the table with Sierra. It looked as if they’d had a sandwich-making contest—something the brothers had done since adolescence. The idea was to make the tallest sandwich that would withstand the pressure of the first bite without the makings slopping out the back.

Brady, as usual, had gone for flavor. His sandwich was loaded with pickles and hot sauce; Shane could tell because the works were already spread all over his plate, having slid out before the sandwich even reached his mouth.

It looked as if Ridge’s sandwich had met the same fate, though it had obviously been constructed on scientific principles, rather than being slapped together with an eye toward satisfying a cowboy-sized appetite. Most of it was still intact, and one neat bite had been taken from the edge. But Ridge was sheepishly reaching for a pickle spear that had shot halfway across the table.

“Those pickles’ll get you every time,” Sierra said.

“They should be required,” Ridge grumbled as the slippery pickle spear slipped from his fingers and fell on the floor. One of his border collies—Shane could never tell Dum from Dee—snatched it up and swallowed it without chewing.

Sierra lifted her own sandwich to her mouth. It was thicker than either Ridge’s or Brady’s, but it was a true marvel of sandwich engineering. Opening wide, she chomped a neat bite out of the edge and raised a victorious fist in the air.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!”

“You cheat,” her husband grumbled.

“Really?” Shane walked over to the table, glad for the distraction. “What’s in there?”

She grinned. “First, I toast the bread. That makes it bite better. Then I spread each slice with hummus. Healthy
and
gluey, and not as slippery as mayo. Next come alternating layers of meat and cheese.” She tossed her short hair. “Putting two pieces of meat together is just asking for trouble. The key is friction.” She winked at Ridge.

“Key to lots of other stuff too,” Brady said, oblivious to the flush of embarrassment that washed over Ridge’s face. “Sex, for instance. Sex is nothing without a little friction.”

“And you’d be the authority on that.”

Shane turned to see Brady’s wife, Suze, coming into the room. She was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt that showed off her shapely figure. It wouldn’t be long before she’d need to go back to the baggy clothes she’d worn before she met Brady, as the twin girls she carried demanded more space.

“Well, yeah,” Brady said, reaching out an arm to snag her around the waist. “It was friction that got us those babies you’re so proud of, after all.” He lifted up the hem of her shirt, pretending to look beneath it. “Where are they again? I don’t see anyplace you could be keeping two future rodeo queens in there.”

She smacked his head, lightly but not
too
lightly. Brady demanded a firm hand, and Suze had proven herself up to the task.

“They’re not rodeo queens. They’re barrel racers. Or doctors or dancers or whatever else they want to be.”

“
Dancers?
” Brady joked a lot, but now he looked seriously distressed. “No girls of mine are going to be dancers.”

“Not all dancers end up at Shotgun Willie’s,” Ridge said. “I think Suze is talking about civilized dancing, not the kind
you
go for.”

“Hey, I don’t go for that kind of thing anymore,” Brady said seriously. “I’ve got daughters now. I believe in showing respect for women.”

“Good,” Suze said. “Then respect your wife and make her one of those sandwiches. But take it easy on the hot sauce.”

Shane found himself smiling in spite of his foul mood. Apparently, it took a little friction to keep a relationship going too. Suze and Brady were proof of that.

So what about him and Lindsey? Maybe she needed someone to keep her in check on this wild idea of hers. Maybe that’s what relationships were all about—friction and balance, so neither partner could go off half-cocked and mess up both their lives.

Maybe he should go back. Find a way to compromise.

Yeah, right. He remembered what she’d said.

I’m doing it, Shane. I’m not letting any man stomp on my dreams, not ever again.

That was not the voice of a woman who wanted to compromise. And why should she? The ranch was hers. She could do as she pleased.

Before he could think, he lashed out and kicked the leg of the closest chair, then grunted at the pain. It was just a spindly kitchen chair, but Ridge’s weight had turned it into an immovable object.

“Beg your pardon,” Ridge said, giving him a slow once-over with those spooky eyes of his. They were so pale, they made him look like an outlaw in a nineteenth-century tintype, and the moustache he’d recently grown only strengthened the likeness. “Something bothering you?”

“Sure is.” Shane used the toe of his boot to whip another chair out from under the table and spin it around. Straddling the seat, he rested his arms on the back, which now faced the rest of the family. “Lindsey’s got some crazy idea she’s going to turn the Lazy Q into an animal sanctuary. She wants to fill the place with old horses, mangy dogs, and stray cats. Oh, and chickens. She’s started up a chicken herd.” He snorted. “That’s what she calls it. A chicken herd.”

“I heard,” Sierra said. “Some of the boys are going to help her.”

“She even got RaeLynn and her dad to donate feed,” Brady said. “I figured you were behind that.”

“Not me,” Shane said darkly. “I’ve got nothing to do with this.”

“You telling me a woman talked RaeLynn into something? I figured Lindsey’d probably sent you over there to sweet-talk her.”

“I’m not sweet-talking anybody.”

Sierra looked at Shane, her green eyes moss soft with something uncomfortably like pity. “So you’re not on board with the changes?”

Shane shook his head, staring down at the worn hardwood floor. “It’s crazy,” he muttered.

“I don’t know. It seems like she’s done a good job thinking it through,” Sierra said. “She asked me to help her with a couple of grants she was writing, and I didn’t have to change a thing. If there’s funding out there, I’d say she’s going to get it. After all, there aren’t nearly enough horse sanctuaries in Wyoming. It’s badly needed, now that slaughter’s illegal. She said people are just abandoning old horses to starve. And everyone knows there are way too many homeless dogs and cats. A ranch is so much better for them than a regular shelter.”

“Kind of like Phoenix House is better than a normal foster home,” Ridge said.

“I’m thinking the girls are going to need a dog,” Brady said. Shane almost smiled. Brady had gone from fixating on broncs, beer, and buckle bunnies to obsessing over his upcoming family.

But the smile faded quickly when it occurred to him that Lindsey had apparently talked to his brothers before she’d talked to him, and gotten them all on her side.

“So I suppose you’re not looking for help with the horse business anymore,” he said to Ridge.

“I never said that. You’re welcome whenever you want,” Ridge said. “You can do the buying and the business end, and me and Jeff can work with the horses. That way, we’ll never have to talk to another human being again.” He leaned his chair back on two legs so he could see into the family room, where Jeff sat quietly reading the latest
Western Horseman.
“How’s that sound, buddy?”

Jeff stuck out one hand, thumb up, in answer, and the rest of them laughed.

Except for Shane. He didn’t feel much like laughing.

Ridge and Brady’s powerful cowboy appetites had made short work of the sandwiches, and they carried their plates over to the counter. Ridge started to run hot water, but Sierra got up and shoved him aside with a well-placed twitch of her hip.

“I’ll do that,” she said. “Maybe Shane could help me.”

“Good idea.”

Ridge and Brady cleared out so fast Shane knew he’d been set up. He fully expected Sierra to light into him, taking Lindsey’s side, but she simply rinsed dishes as he carried them over. He slotted them into the dishwasher, struggling to think of a way to break the awkward silence.

“You think Cody’ll be able to adjust to living here?” he finally asked. “He’s gone through a lot in the past couple of months.”

“He’ll be fine,” Sierra said. “Kids are amazingly resilient. It’s because their brains are still growing. There’s still plenty of room for new ideas.”

Shane was pretty sure he knew where this conversation was going, and Sierra didn’t disappoint him.

“Cowboys are another matter though.” She handed him a plate. “You guys don’t deal too well with change.”

He stuck the plate in its proper place and reached for the next one. “We’ve figured out a way that works, and we want to stick with it. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Sierra frowned, scrubbing something stubborn from the inside of a bowl. “But things change. Lindsey wants to change the mission of the Lazy Q, and that’s her choice, right?”

“Right. It’s her ranch. But that mission leaves no place for me.”

“Who’ll take care of the herd?”

“She’ll sell it.”

Sierra almost dropped the bowl. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Sierra shook her head. “I can’t believe she’d do that. She seems smarter than that, you know? The cattle support the place.”

Shane shrugged. “I told you, she’s got her head in the clouds. She hasn’t thought this thing through, and she won’t listen to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Sierra handed him the last dish and watched him slide it into the dishwasher and close up the machine. “I figured she planned on doing this in addition to the cattle, not instead of.” She stared out the window, her eyes narrowed, her mouth twisted as she mulled over the idea. “I guess I can see why you’re upset. But maybe she’ll change her mind.”

“You didn’t hear her talking about it,” Shane said. “She’s dead set on doing what she wants to do. Any time I try to give advice, she thinks I’m some kind of dream killer.”

“Give her time,” Sierra said. “That’s what I’d do. But you don’t have to listen to me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Shane said. “It’s your house I’d be moving to.”

“No, it’s your house,” she said. “Yours and Brady’s and Ridge’s. Just because Ridge and I are living here doesn’t mean there’s not plenty of room for you. It’s just that I think you’ll be unhappy without her, Shane.”

She had no idea. He was already miserable, and it had been an hour, at most.

“I just don’t see a place for me in her scheme,” he said. “I’m a cattle rancher. It’s what I do.”

She came up behind him and hugged him. It was a sisterly hug, warm and loving, and he marveled again at how seamlessly she’d fit into their family.

“Do you want to be with her?”

Swallowing, Shane struggled to get the word past the ache in his throat. “Yes.”

“Do you want her to be happy?”

He nodded.

“Then let it go. Help her make her dream come true, and give Cody a little more time at the Lazy Q. Then, if you’re still unhappy, come on back. You’ll always be welcome here.”

Shane swallowed hard and nodded. Sierra always knew the right thing to say. He felt better after talking to her, and maybe he’d take her advice. But he’d put to rest his own crazy dreams of a future with Lindsey. It wasn’t going to work.

Ridge had found a good woman—one who was supportive and helpful. Sierra might be a little idealistic when it came to foster kids, but she had a proven track record of success. All Lindsey had was dreams.

And Shane knew about dreams. He’d been a dreamer once, fantasizing about a normal life, with a home and a family. First, he’d dreamed of having parents, then of having a wife and son. He’d done everything right, but his dreams had slipped away every time. It was like trying to catch a wild cow. He’d throw his rope just so, until it hovered over the horns like a whirling halo—but that critter always slipped away somehow, leaving him with an empty loop and a busted dream.

Chapter 48

The little buckskin raced around the corral, giving Ridge and Shane sideways glances that showed the whites of his eyes.

“I don’t see him as a roping horse,” Shane said, watching the horse shy as the breeze fluttered a clump of long grass at the edge of the corral. “Maybe a decent using horse, if you can slow him down.”

The horse zigzagged away from the grass that had frightened him and skidded around a glove Ridge had dropped in the dirt.

“Crazy-fast reaction time,” Shane said. “Maybe he’d make a barrel racer.”

“Damn straight.” Suze emerged from the barn, carrying a saddle under one arm and a saddle blanket under the other. A woven hackamore was draped over her shoulder. “I’ve been watching. That one’s mine.”

“Fine with me.” Ridge stepped back to the rail as Suze hoisted her saddle over the fence. “Just be careful.” Lowering his voice, he leaned toward Shane. “He bites.”

“And you’re not going to tell her?”

Grinning, Ridge shook his head.

While Suze saddled up her renegade buckskin, Ridge leaned against the gate and gave Shane a hard look. “What’s going on with Lindsey?”

“Nothing.”

“Why not?”

Shane shrugged. “Didn’t work out. I don’t like to analyze the past. You know that.”

“Sure do.” Ridge tucked a blade of grass between his teeth. “One of these days, though, you’re going to have to find a way to deal with it.”

Shane shrugged. “I’ll get over her.”

“I don’t mean Lindsey.” Ridge chewed contemplatively on the grass blade, which bobbed from one corner of his mouth. “I mean your past.” He glanced over at Jeff, who was wielding pliers like a pro as he repaired a length of fencing. “Helping Jeff helps me. He’s been through so many of the same things. We understand each other.”