Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride. Wendy Warren
Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride
then, when he realized he’d missed months of his kid’s life, and had no way to support her, he’d set about becoming the kind of person, the kind of dad, he wanted to be.
“Would you be interested in taking on some more colts?” Barton asked him out of the blue as they rode through the sage toward a trail leading to the mountains.
“Yes,” Kade responded. No sense playing coy.
“There’s just one thing.”
Kade glanced over at Barton, whose tone had changed. “What’s that?”
“I’ll want you under contract. I don’t want to invest in colts and then not have a trainer whose name will help sell them.”
“So I’d be guaranteed employment.” That would be nice. He nudged the colt to keep him from pausing to eat the tall crested wheat growing between the sage bushes.
“And I’d be guaranteed that you won’t sell your ranch and quit the country.”
“How long a contract?” Because he fully intended to sell the ranch and quit the country as soon as he could.
“I want sixty days put on the colts I sell, with an option to re-up for a longer period if we’re both happy with the deal.”
“That sounds reasonable.” It would take longer than sixty days to settle all the issues involved in selling the ranch once he found a buyer. And, if he was able to move to Elko after the sale, he could continue to work for Joe, since the town wasn’t far away by Nevada standards. Yes. A renewable contract was sounding better and better.
“You aren’t drinking anymore, are you.” It was a statement, not a question, and Kade wasn’t surprised that Barton had investigated his background.
“No.”
“And you wouldn’t have a problem coming over to the ranch and meeting some people, maybe show off what you’ve done with the colts you’re breaking in now?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract.”
Kade and Joe talked bloodlines for the rest of the ride, taciturn Joe growing more enthusiastic as he picked Kade’s brain. Kade felt remarkably optimistic himself when Joe finally drove his shiny truck and horse trailer down the driveway—until he went into his own trailer and listened to the voice message from his ex-wife asking him to call.
Sensing the worst, he punched in her number. The news wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t that great, either. Jillian had planned a family trip for the next weekend, his weekend, and Maddie wanted to go.
What could he say?
He had several things he wanted to say, but Jillian jumped in first.
“Mike and I will bring Maddie down next weekend to make up for it. No travel.”
“Are you sure you’re not going to plan another big event that Maddie can’t possibly miss the next weekend?”
“If you want her to come this weekend, she will. It’s up to you.”
Kade took a few paces across the trailer, attempting to keep his temper in check. “You’ve got to stop doing this, Jill.”
“I’m not doing anything except trying to keep Maddie’s life stable.”
“I’m aware,” Kade said. “Gotta go.” He hung up the phone before he could say anything Jillian could use against him and then slammed his palm against the storage cabinet beside the stove.
He needed to sell the ranch and get back up to Elko. He hoped Jason’s wife would call him soon.
KADE’S PHONE KEPT kicking into voice mail, so Libby pulled into his driveway on her way home.
No time like the present to start practicing the new role she’d assigned herself—that of a civil acquaintance. Another name for it would be ex-lover-who-hates-living-in-the-same-community-but-is-determined-to-save-face.
The door to the house hung wide open.
Libby sat in her truck for a moment before getting out, wondering if Kade’s daughter would be there again. But at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon the girl should just be getting out of school in Elko. Or so Libby hoped.
She crossed the weedy gravel to the house, the sound of hammering growing louder as she approached.
“Hello?” she called as she entered the nearly empty kitchen, remembering the many times she’d done so in the past—usually when Kade’s dad was away from the place.
The hammering stopped abruptly and Kade appeared at the end of the hall, wearing a sweaty T-shirt that clung to his chest, outlining his muscles. Libby swallowed and reminded herself of her role. Civil acquaintance.
She cleared her throat. “Uh, hi,” she said, now aware that “civil acquaintance” was going to be a lot more difficult than “angry ex.” Anger felt safe because it kept the emotions high and protected her from having to acknowledge that she still found Kade ridiculously attractive, that she could close her eyes and remember how it felt to smooth her hands over his muscles, feel his lips on her skin.
“Hi,” he echoed. For a moment they stared at one another, his questioning hazel eyes meeting her cautious blue ones.
Libby squared her shoulders then, as if preparing for a fight. “I came to tell you that I changed my mind. I will go with you to find Blue.”
His expression didn’t change. “Why?”
Libby blinked at him. “The polite thing to say is ‘thank you.’ I’m off tomorrow. Does that work for you?”
“Works fine.”
“If I’m intruding on some plans …”
“No.”
“Are you alone this weekend?”
“Alone?”
“Will your daughter be coming with us?” she asked with more of an edge to her voice than she’d intended.
“I won’t get to see her again for a week or so.”
“Oh.” She tried not to sound relieved, but she was. Riding with Kade, like old times, would be hard enough without having a walking, talking reminder of his infidelity along.
“Whose trailer shall we take?”
“We can take the old stock trailer.”
“Good. The road’s bad and I don’t want to beat up mine.”
Kade smiled slightly. “We could borrow Menace’s father’s trailer and get it back before he realizes it’s gone.”
“Maybe next time.” Libby smiled back, then remembered herself. Acquaintance, not coconspirator. “What time do you want me here?”
“I could swing by and pick you up at your place.”
“My trailer’s already hitched. It’s no problem driving over.” And she wanted to stay in control of her comings and goings.
“Why don’t we leave here at about 4:00 a.m.?”
Libby’s lower jaw shifted sideways. “You’re pushing things. You know that.”
There was still a hint of humor in his eyes as he said, “Yeah, Lib. I do.”
“I’ll be here at five. I have a date tomorrow night, so I want to get back early.”
After a slight pause he said, “Fine.”
“All right.” Libby felt oddly self-conscious, which made her tone brusque as she added, “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow. Hey, Lib,” he called, since she was already halfway out the door. She turned back, one had on the door frame. “How’s