Page 7 of Ride Me Cowboy

Something warm floods my chest at that. And I’m not sure why I ask it, but hear myself say, “Your mom?”

Surprise briefly flexes his features, but then he’s back to the impenetrable, tough guy mask. “Yeah.” It’s a quick admission, and it definitely doesn’t invite any more questions. Duly noted. Hey, if I plan on being a closed book then, surely, he’s allowed the same thing. I make a mental note not to ask anything else I don’t need to know.

“We tend to lunch together,” he continues. “Down at the sheds. The cook usually serves food at noon. Breakfast and dinner are up to you.”

“Oh. Do I have to eat lunch with everyone?”

He drags a hand through his hair. “You can do what you want, remember? But the offer’s there, if you’d rather come on over. I can show you the way, if you’d like?”

“That’s okay,” I say, quickly, because I know I’m not going to sit around with a heap of cowboys and share a meal. I’m here to be alone, after all. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” I say, to forestall any objection he might be about to make. The question for today is moot, anyway. It’s the middle of the afternoon. Lunch has been and gone.

“Reagan left her number in the office but we’re trying not to bother her, you know, given the whole new baby thing. So, any questions, come to me, first.”

My mouth goes dry at that, but I nod. “Got it.”

“Okay then, Beth.” He stays standing there, though. “Need anything else?”

I look around the room then shake my head. “No, thanks. I’ll settle in then get down to work. Thanks…for the tour.”

He pulls a face. “It was hardly a tour. Just holler if you want to see the ranch proper.”

I nod.

“I’ll get back out there,” he nods to the window that frames a view of the wide, sweeping plains, the mountains, and despite my best intentions not to be interested in anything about this life, I find myself wondering what it must feel like to conquer a landscape like this. To saddle up, or whatever it is exactly that a cowboy does, and just ride like the wind. Ride, feel the power of the horse beneath you, the sheer untamed strength of nature.

I glance back to say something like that to Cole but luckily, he’s already left.

Chapter Three

Cole

RANDY REYNOLDS SLIDES THE beers down the bar, one for me, one for Beau. Austin, our ranch hand Caleb, and Mackenzie the intern are already at a table in the back. The place is packed tonight, just like always on steak night. Then again, when isn’t it steak night around here? This one though is legendary, with an open mic later, so after a few beers people sing their lungs out.

I feel a hint of guilt assail me as we weave through the tables toward the others, thinking about Beth being all alone at the ranch on her first night.

It’s not exactly country hospitality but I get a feeling it’s what she wanted: to be left alone. Though if Beau had had his way, she’d be sitting right down at that empty chair, letting him regale her with whatever story he wanted, shooting the breeze, trying to get her out of her boots.

“You don’t know shit,” Mackenzie snaps at Austin as I take my seat, and he lets out a guffaw.

“Just admit it, you like her.”

Mackenzie rolls her eyes, and I wonder if she’s already met the new bookkeeper.

“Shut it,” she warns. If I was Austin, I’d pay attention. Mackenzie doesn’t mess around and she sounds pissed as all get out.

“I saw you,” Austin digs down, laughing a little.

“Whatever.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, passing a beer to Beau before I turn the last empty seat around so I can straddle it backways and rest my arms on it.

“Mack over here likes to talk tough, but she’s gotten herself attached to that damn stray mutt.”

“Did not,” Mackenzie snaps.

“You’ve been sneaking it food for two weeks.”

Mackenzie’s lips parts. “How did you?—,”