“No problem, hon,” Crank said, pulling away from Cal and shifting toward the woman he’d sent the beer to. “I can’t stand the sight of a pretty woman sitting by herself. Not very gentlemanly of me to not offer you a drink and some company.”
Cal grunted at the lame comment. As if any woman would fall for that.
Then he caught the woman’s scent—lavender and sunshine.
She smelled like—he spun around on the stool—Maggie.
“I’ve found most cowboys to be such gentlemen,” Maggie said, taking a sip of the beer Crank had sent her way. She looked right at Cal. “Some not so much.”
Cal didn’t know whether to kiss her or run for the door.
’Cause she looked mad.
“That’s right,” Crank said, leaning close and setting a big paw on her waist, pulling her toward him. “And you look like a lady who needs a gentleman tonight.”
Cal curled his hand into a fist as Maggie gave Crank a smile. “I do.”
“That’s enough,” Cal said, sliding off the stool and taking Maggie by the arm.
Crank shot Cal a look that said “back off” and Maggie pulled her arm from his grasp.
“What are you doing here?” Cal asked her, ignoring Crank.
“I came to get a cowboy.”
17
MAGGIE WANTED TO kiss Cal. She wanted to tell him how relieved and proud she was of him for riding Rasputin to the buzzer. She also wanted to punch him in his big, fat, stupid nose.
Total toss-up.
The young cowboy who’d sent her a cold beer pulled at Cal’s arm. “Now see here, Hollywood, you passed. Step on, brother.”
Cal’s gaze never left hers. “I understand, Crank, but this is a different situation.”
“How so?”
“Because the cowboy she wants is me,” Cal said with not the slightest trace of arrogance. No need to be. She had come for him.
In a way.
After she’d torn up the contract Hunt Turner had sent, she’d sat down at the kitchen table to think. So often in her life she knew automatically what had to be done, but this time she hadn’t a clue. She was keeping the Triple J, but she needed a plan. Without any experience at ranching and with so little acreage, she struck off the idea of raising cattle. The land wasn’t necessarily suitable for farming. She didn’t think. She knew nothing about farming, anyhow. For a good hour, she’d scratched a few ideas on a legal pad. A dude ranch? But was Coyote Creek too far from a major airport to sustain a successful tourist operation? A bed-and-breakfast? Maybe she could lease it to movie production companies? She’d racked her brain for an idea of how she could actually feed herself and the animals.
But it was Wyatt who’d tossed out the most viable decision when he came to tell her good-night and ask if she’d talked to Cal.
Thing was, in order to do what Wyatt suggested she needed the hardheaded cowboy who’d jumped to conclusions and skipped out on her.
So she’d bought a used truck, locked up the house and driven across the South to get to Mobile. She’d made it in time to watch Cal ride Rasputin. She’d never seen anything like that man ride. Her heart had beaten hard in her ears and she’d felt nausea rise in her throat as he climbed on, but nothing had been more thrilling than watching him hold on to that bull. No, not just hold on. Ride him.
She’d thought to show up in his autograph line but what set between them seemed too personal to air out in front of fans. So she planned to follow his truck back to his hotel like some crazy stalker chick. But he hadn’t gone back to the hotel. Instead he’d gone to a bar. Which had hurt her feelings a little. She’d spent several nights crying into her pillow over the jerk and he was going out on the town? She chalked it up to a celebration and climbed out of the new-to-her, only-dinged-on-the-passenger-side-door Chevy truck and went inside to wait on Cal to notice she was there.
Thankfully, after fending off a few too-interested cowboys, Cal’s friend had noticed her.
Cal’s buddy frowned. “Bull to the shit. She ain’t here for no broken-down old fart like you.”
Maggie smiled at the kid. “Actually this cowboy still owes me some work.”
Crank looked confused.
Cal nodded. “She’s my boss.”
“What the hell?” Crank asked.
“I’m his boss and he left without finishing some things. So I’m here to bring him back.” She looked at Cal when she said it.
The cowboy with the boyish smile and too-long hair shrugged. “Whatever, weirdos.” And then he turned back to the bar, knocking his knuckles on the scarred wood.
Cal was absolutely still, studying her as she stood in the middle of the loud, crowded bar, wearing her new jeans with the rhinestone bling on the pockets and the boots they’d bought at the Co-op. “You came to get me?”
“Sorta.”
Someone jostled her and she stepped aside so she didn’t get trampled. Country music blared and the roar of conversation made it hard for anyone to hear anything. “Wanna go outside?” he asked.
She nodded.
Cal took her arm and wound through the bar, pushing out into the hot, humid Alabama night. A few people loitered in the parking lot, some kissing, some shooting the breeze. Night cloaked them in intimacy. Here’s where the road met the rubber...another saying she’d learned from the painters.
They walked to Cal’s truck and he lowered the tailgate. Jerking his head, he invited her to sit. She shook her head. No way could she sit when she felt this keyed up.
“First before you say anything I have to apologize,” Cal said, leaning against the lip of the tailgate. “I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have overreacted or accused you of trying to control me. I know you better than that, and after I thought about it, I knew my mama had cornered you. She’s hard to say no to.”
Maggie nodded. “Yeah, she is.”
“I told her you reminded me of her.”
She jerked her head around. “How so?”
“You’re hard to say no to,” he said with a smile. It was a shamefaced smile, and she could see he was embarrassed about his behavior. He should be.
“You shouldn’t have stormed off that way. It was immature and irrational and—”
“Dumb ass,” he finished.
“That and not fair to me. You told me it wouldn’t end that way.”
“I know.”
She crossed her arms. “I would never try to stop you from doing what you love. I can see the passion you have for riding. But I also understand how your mother feels. It’s a dangerous sport. You have a lot of scars to prove it.”
“I’m a regular ol’ collector of hurt, ain’t I?”
“So you hurt me?” She didn’t want the emotion to fall into her voice, but she was helpless to stop it.
“I didn’t want either one of us to hurt. This thing between us was supposed to be simple. Have fun and part with a smile on our faces, but it didn’t work that way. I went off in a huff, but then I missed the hell out of you. Kept thinking about things I wanted to show you, like the dolphins I saw in the Gulf or the way the sun set over the water. But I had shoved you away with my insecurities. I was afraid of my feelings, and like a selfish, immature kid I ran away from the hard stuff.”
“I don’t want to be your hard stuff,” she said, wondering what he meant. Why was she the hard stuff?
“You aren’t.” He looked out at the trucks. Seconds ticked by. “Why did you really come? Not just to hear an apology?”
“No, I wanted to propose something to you.”
“Propose?”
“A partnership. I didn’t sell the Triple J.”
He jerked his gaze to her. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t want to let it go. Bud left me a note. He challenged me to not think with my head but to follow my gut. Somehow, that made sense. I refused Hunt Turner’s offer and I’m staying in Texas.”
“You’re staying?” Cal’s voice held something that sounded like hope and that gave her the needed courage to ask him a pretty big thing.
“Yes, and I am hoping you’ll lend me your name.”
“Like get married?” He sounded even more shocked than when she’d told him she hadn’t sold the ranch.
Maggie’s heart jolted at the words get married. “No. Like in a business partnership. I want to make the Triple J into a ranch that provides stock for rodeos. I’ve been reading a lot of information about stock contractors. Your brother actually gave me the idea. The Triple J is the perfect size and we’ve already got a good-size barn. I’ve sketched out—”
“Wait, you’re staying in Texas and you want to raise bulls?” Cal sounded shocked again. She thought shocking him might be a good side hobby. He made some funny faces when surprised.
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. I’ve worked on a business plan and I think I can get a loan that will float us until we can get some more cows and buy some straws of bull sperm. Proven bulls have expensive sperm. Until we can become viable stock contractors, we can sell some older cattle for beef and even run a training facility for bull riders or provide boarding for horses or something. I’m not exactly clear on what opportunities might come our way, or my way rather, but I know this is something I can do. I have a good acumen for business and a can-do attitude for a city slicker.”