“Quaid the bullshit cowboy. Tyrell the hungry wolf cowboy. You’re getting my table all dirty,” she said.
“I’ll wash it. My feet are tired. At least you are getting red roses. I’m not taking roses or any other kind of flower to Betsy or to Kinsey. Maybe they’ll take that as a slight and leave me alone.”
She tucked a few strands of flaming red hair behind her ear. “I don’t even like roses. I said that so he wouldn’t know my favorite flower and bring them. I have a problem relating flowers to people or events, and I damn sure don’t want my favorite ones ruined by a one-date cowboy.”
“And the favorite ones are?” Sawyer asked.
“Daisies. They outlast roses, and they’re tough little flowers. If you tell him…”
Sawyer held up a palm defensively. “I understand. Say no more. Want my advice?”
“Hell, no! But I expect you are going to give it to me anyway.”
“Maybe you’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with them, like I did,” he said. “It could be that one or both of them are really decent cowboys. Go with an open mind. Don’t think about their last name or where they live or how much money they have or how big their ranch is or even the damned feud. Just spend a little time getting to know them as the men they are, and then make up your mind which one or both or neither that you might like to see again.”
She pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “It’s going to be a long Sunday.”
“Be nice if it was only one day.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Darlin’, you are the princess of the Fiddle Creek kingdom. Both of the kingdoms beside yours would benefit greatly from the water rights on your land, so they’re going to do their damnedest to get one of their knights in shining armor, or maybe its knight in shining pickup truck, to win your favor.”
“Aunt Gladys has always said that neither one of those families will ever get Fiddle Creek. Maybe that’s all I need to put out on the rumor vine, and they’ll leave me alone.”
Sawyer chuckled.
She sat up with a start and frowned at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You looked in the mirror lately?”
“Of course.”
“Enough said, then.”
“You best start explaining, or I’m throwing that pie out in the yard,” she said.
“I’m repeating myself, and I won’t do it again, so listen to me, Jill Cleary. Fiddle Creek would be a nice trophy. Whoever wins gets a woman with ranching experience that looks like a trophy wife. Quaid is going to try to woo you with his good deeds. Tyrell is going to smother you with fun and flowers. The feud is officially blown wide open right now, so everything is fair. Each side wants to win, and you are the prize. It won’t be so bad, darlin’. You’ll have a big ranch, a cowboy, and a hell of a big diamond engagement ring whichever way you go.”
“I’ll say no after tomorrow. And what about you? You’ve also got two after you,” she said.
“Quaid and Tyrell are the knights, but the whole castle on both sides, including women, kids, and even the grandmothers are probably already plotting. I’ve got a feeling I’m part of that plot. If they can put me out of the picture, that’s one less cowboy in your world. I think I already said that, didn’t I?” Sawyer said.
“How do you know so much about it?”
“You can’t be in Burnt Boot two hours without hearing feud stories.”
“Dammit!” She slapped the table hard enough that it reverberated right though his boots.
“Now you are beginning to understand. You ready to go home now?”
“I’m ready to go back to Brownsville and get a job making tacos in a fast food joint,” she said.
“Ain’t neither one of us the kind to run from problems.” He stood up, wiped the table one more time, and set his chair on it. “Polly didn’t mention mopping, did she?”
“Just a quick damp mop if there’s spills, but I don’t see any tonight. She’s got a cleaning lady that does that on Sunday when the place is closed. She takes care of the deep cleaning. All we have to do is sweep up every night.”
“I’ll put the broom up and get our coats,” Sawyer said.
* * *
It was almost midnight when they reached the bunkhouse, and Jill melted into the corner of the sofa. “Just ten minutes, and then I’m going to take you up on borrowing your shower before I go to bed.”
Sawyer went straight to the kitchen. There was only enough leftover coffee for one cup, so he popped it into the microwave. Then he cut a piece of pie big enough for two people and put it on one plate, along with two small pieces of chocolate cake. When the microwave dinged, he picked up the plate with one hand and the coffee with the other.
“We’re sharing. I couldn’t carry three things.” He sat down right next to her and handed her the coffee.
She put it on the end table and picked up one of the forks, ate two bites of pie, and shook her head. “I’m too tired to eat.”
“I could feed it to you.”
“I’m too tired to chew.”
“Then you are on your own. I’m not doing that for you,” he said.
She laid her head over on his shoulder and stretched out her legs until her feet were resting on the well-used coffee table. “Looks like lots of boots have been propped up on that table.”
You are getting mighty friendly there, her inner voice chided. You never snuggled up to a man this quick before. Better watch out, or you’ll be making another mistake.
Hush, she argued. We’re just friends, and he already gave me a foot massage. This is resting, not flirting.
“Yep, it does look like lots of cowboys have come through this bunkhouse and done just what you’re doing. This pie is amazing. I’ll just eat all of it, since you are too tired to eat,” he said.
“Enjoy. I could sleep right here all night.”
“After our last twenty-four hours, it is pretty nice to be in a peaceful place where Gallaghers and Brennans aren’t welcome.”
“Let’s make a pact.” She yawned. “Even if you like one of those brazen hussies who got a beer bath tonight, don’t bring them into the bunkhouse.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “And if you fall for one of those sumbitches, you don’t bring them here either.”
She snuggled down tighter. “I’m not going to fall for one of them, but I promise I won’t bring anyone into our sanctuary.”
“Me, either,” he said.
Chapter 5
Jill found it impossible to keep a few inches of space between her and Quaid. That side of the church was packed with Brennan families, settled into the pews so tight that daylight couldn’t get between them. If church services lasted past the customary hour, she feared she’d smother plumb to death right there on the fourth pew between Quaid and Kinsey.
“We’re so glad you are coming to Sunday dinner,” Kinsey whispered. “It’s been a long time since my cousin was interested in someone. We’ll have to talk about him later, and I’ll tell you how sweet and kind and wonderful he is.”
Quaid leaned over and spoke softly in her other ear. “You were such a big help in the Sunday school class. I sure wish you would consent to help me out every Sunday. The girls in there really took to you.”
“I need to get settled in before I make any commitments, but thank you for making me feel so welcome,” she said.
The section on the other side of the church was filled to capacity too. She was thinking about Sawyer and how lucky he was that he hadn’t gotten roped into Sunday school, church, and dinner when she looked past him sitting in the center section. She was actually looking for red hair to see if Betsy came to church that morning, when Tyrell caught her eye. His bright smile and sly wink reminded her that the day was still young.
The Sunday school secretary took his place behind the podium, held up a hand, and all conversation stopped. “We broke our Sunday school attendance record this morning. We haven’t had this many people in church since the Christmas programs more than a decade ago. I’m hoping you all made it your New Year’s resolution to attend church every Sunday this year.” He went on to tell about the Sunday school offering that morning and to make the announcements for the past week concerning births and deaths. Then he covered the events for the coming week: visits to the nursing home in Gainesville, a youth rally in the middle of the week that included supper in the fellowship hall, a baby shower, and a wedding shower.
Jill caught Sawyer’s gaze when the man mentioned the youth rally. The unspoken message couldn’t be clearer. Thank God she had agreed to help man the bar all week. That would give her a damn fine excuse for not going to the rally. As if on cue, Kinsey cupped her hand over Jill’s ear and said, “I’m one of the supervisors of the youth group. I’d love to have your help at the rally. Quaid and I get pretty rushed at these things.”
Jill mouthed, “I have to work.”
“We could find someone else to help Sawyer at the bar for one night,” Kinsey pressed.
Jill shook her head. “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”