Cowgirls Don't Cry(75)
“And who’s with him? Is he wearing a uniform? Is that a deputy?”
“I never knew a deputy to wear a shirt like that, hon.”
She shaded her eyes. Chance wore a faded chambray shirt, but the man riding with him wore a bright red plaid with fancy stitching, fringe and pearl buttons. “Okay. That’s the worst Western shirt I’ve ever seen.”
“I heard that,” the other man called.
The men reined in and waited. When Cass and Boots came even with them, they turned their horses and fell in, Chance riding knee-to-knee on her right and the other man beside him.
“My brother Cord. Cord, Boots Thomas and Cassidy Morgan.”
Cord tipped the brim of his hat and pretended to pout. “I dressed up special for this rodeo. I can’t believe you’re dissin’ my shirt.”
She had to bite her lip. Cord definitely got all the charm in the family. Working her mouth to keep from grinning, she cast an arch look in their direction. “So why are you here?”
“I have a signed injunction, Cass.”
“You what?” She twisted in her saddle and nailed his arm with a fist. “Of all the low-down, cowardly, despicable, low-life...” She sputtered and spit, so angry she couldn’t even talk. Without warning, Chance grabbed her, hauled her out of her saddle and settled her across his thighs. His arms pinned hers to her sides but she struggled anyway.
“Dammit, hold still, Cass.”
“Let. Me. Guh-uh-uh.” His lips sealed on hers, cutting off her last word. She fought him, but as his mouth pressed against hers and his tongue teased her lips open, her struggles lessened, and she relaxed—if pressing against him as her tongue entwined with his could be called relaxing.
With a ragged gasp, he broke the kiss. “Please listen, Cass. The injunction is against the sheriff and the city police. Judge Reynolds signed it so you can continue to drive the herd to Stockyard City.”
If someone were to ask later, she’d vow that was not a sob bubbling in her throat. When his arms loosened enough that she could move, she bunched his shirt into her fists and stared at him nose to nose. “Swear you mean that. Swear I’m going to get the herd to the stockyards today so they can go in the sale tomorrow.”
“On my honor, Cass. I know my word means nothing to you, but give me a chance to prove myself. That’s why Cord and I are here.” He kissed her again. “Give me a chance to be the right man for you. To prove how much I love you.”
“Oh, hi, Cass. I’m Cord. Chance’s older, saner brother. Nice to meet you.”
She laughed, unable to stop the swing of emotions from anger to giddy relief with a pit stop at Ohmygoshhereallylovesme! She glanced over at Cord but returned her gaze to stare at Chance, her head slowly shaking from side to side. “Hi, Cord. Nice to meet you. I think.” Then she thumped her fist against Chance’s chest. “Put me back on my horse, buster. We have a herd to deliver.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
A moment later, Chance’s strong arms slid from around her, and she was back in her saddle. Behind her, cheers rose in sharp crescendo to the soothing lows from the herd. Did she have a chance to make her dad proud? She didn’t dare hope. Not until she’d closed the gate on the last pen at the stockyards. Chance reached over and took her hand, gave it a little squeeze and winked. Her heart danced a two-step in her chest. Then they topped the rise, and her heart stopped. The road was blocked by black sheriff cruisers, the emergency lights on top blazing red and blue.