Cowgirl, Say Yes. Brenda Mott
too many John Wayne movies, Tess.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “All right. Maybe I deserved that one.” She nodded toward the screen door. “Go on in.” Only after he was safely inside did she let loose of Duke’s collar. “So what’s up?” she asked, closing the screen behind her. “Did you come here to lecture me on the evils of horse rescue, or were you planning to drive splinters under my nails until I agreed to give up my quest?”
He glared at her. “That’s a fine way to treat a neighbor, Tess.” He nodded at the beer. “Got another one of those?”
She huffed out a noise that let him know she found his manners sorely lacking, then opened the fridge and extracted a longneck. On the stove, the pasta boiled wildly. She checked it and found it almost ready.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah. I feed my kids every Wednesday, whether they need it or not.”
Tess turned and shot him a glare, only to find him grinning at her behind her back. The tension in her neck eased, and she allowed herself to return his smile, but only briefly. She couldn’t let his looks disarm her.
“So, why did you come out here?” she asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“I wanted to clear up a couple of things,” he said, taking a pull from the beer bottle. Tess watched his long, strong fingers curl around it, noticed the way his lips covered the brown glass as though he were about to kiss it…and licked her own. He was enough for her to indulge in a fantasy. Enough to make her stupid.
Again, she dragged her thoughts from that direction. Who needed a man, anyhow?
“Clear away,” she said, turning to dump the pasta into the strainer, not caring if it was completely cooked or not. She topped it with broccoli and some chunks of jack and sat down at the table, gesturing Wade toward a chair. “Sure you’re not hungry?”
He scooted out the chair, revealing her black cat, Inky, who lay curled on the cushion. The cat gave Wade an indignant stare at having been moved from his resting place, not offering to budge from his perch. Unceremoniously, Wade lifted Inky from the cushion and set him on the floor, the expression on his face telling her all she needed to know of his opinion on cats. One she’d already heard from Macy. Tess glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He eyed her plate. “You call that a meal? Where’s the meat?”
“Where it’s supposed to be,” she said. “On the hoof, not in the freezer.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “Oh-ho-ho, I might’ve known. A vegetarian.” He said it as though being a vegetarian was a felony. She supposed to a cattle rancher, it might as well be.
Narrowing her eyes, she poked a broccoli floret with the tines of her fork. Pretending it was Wade’s fat head. Arrogant jerk. What kind of man didn’t like cats? “What’s it to you, Darland?”
“Darlin’?” He raised his eyebrows and shot her a grin. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
Tess felt her lips twitch in a near smile. “You know that’s not what I said.” Then she stabbed another piece of broccoli. How did he do that to her? Make her anger run hot, then ooze away, cold, as though he’d dumped a bucket of chilled honey on it.
“Does your daddy know you’re a traitor?”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s right. He supports the cattle and sheep ranchers around here, keeping their livestock in grain products. And all the while you’re shunning meat, eating vegetables like some do-good yuppie.”
Tess let her mouth fall open. She couldn’t help it, and was glad for the fact that she’d already swallowed her bite of ziti. “In the first place, I’m sure my dad is quite aware of my meal preferences. And in the second, I can’t believe you’re sitting in my kitchen, drinking my beer and throwing insults at me! Maybe I ought to call Duke in here.”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’m not staying any longer than it takes to tell you what’s on my mind.” He set the beer down and leaned forward in his chair. “It’s about Macy.”
Immediately, Tess sobered. Had he punished her when they’d gotten home? Had the child retaliated in some way?
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine, no thanks to you.”
“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Beef-eating Rancher, but I wasn’t the one who threatened to sell her mare to the glue factory.”
“I never threatened anything.” Wade’s scowl was back, darkening his hazel eyes to a stormy near green. “I simply tried to get Macy to see the sensible side of things and— Oh, what am I trying to explain it to you for? You sure don’t get it.”
“No, Wade, I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re breaking your daughter’s heart. What would it hurt you to let her keep the horse? You’ve got about five zillion acres between you and your old man, yet you can’t find room for one retired mare?”
He made a huffing sound. “Dad’s not ranching anymore. He sold most of his place to some developers last month so they could subdivide it and make more room for yuppies to move into this valley.” He glared at her as though she were personally responsible.
“Well, don’t look at me. I’m against all the development happening, but what are you going to do to stop it?” The question was a rhetorical one.
“Imagine that.” Wade drew back, startling her with his smile. He raised his beer in toast. “We actually have something in common, Miss Veggie.”
“Don’t call me that.” Tess scowled at him, then shook her head and gave in to the laugh that bubbled up inside her. She raised her own beer bottle, clinked it against his, then sobered. “But really, Wade. You can’t sell Macy’s horse.”
“I already know that.”
She’d been prepared to argue further. His agreement took her by surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t realize I’d upset Macy that much.” He shook his head. “She sure doesn’t think things through the way her mama did. Anyway, that’s one of the things I came to tell you. The other one is, you’re not to interfere with my daughter anymore. You’re her 4-H leader, not her mother.”
“As though I’d want to be, since that would mean being married to you.” She wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from. Actually, she’d love to be Macy’s mom…if only she did indeed come without her dad.
Wade looked stunned by her words. “Well, I reckon there’s not much danger in that,” he said. He downed the rest of the Coors Light and set the bottle on the countertop. “I’d throw that away, but I imagine you’d like to recycle it,” he said. His posture and manner of speech reminded her of Woody Harrelson in the movie The Cowboy Way. Just as much class, she thought with sarcasm. Even more good looks, she admitted reluctantly. And twice as much trouble.
That, she was sure of.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she got up from the table. “Maybe I’d rather see if it will break over your thick skull.” She flashed him a mock smile.
To her surprise, he laughed. “I do like your spunk, Miss Tess Vega,” he said. He pointed a forefinger. “Just remember. You’re Macy’s 4-H leader, and that’s all.” He tipped his hat. “’Night, spitfire.”
“Good night yourself,” she said to his departing back. “Jackass.”
HER PHONE RANG in the middle of the night, and for a minute Tess thought it was the alarm clock. Disoriented, she sat up in bed, then scrambled from beneath the covers to answer.
“Hello?” Heart pounding, Tess realized it was 3:45 a.m.
Her