His Outback Cowgirl(17)

Over the past three days, his head had won the argument with his hormones. Starting something with the beautiful cowgirl would be the worst possible thing for both of them. She was emotionally vulnerable and he didn’t do risks, especially ones that involved his heart. So, no matter how much his testosterone might disagree, he’d be keeping his hands to himself.

“Can you spin us, please,” Bridie called from her lofty height.

Ethan nodded and after checking they both had a firm hold on the net, he spun the equipment. Finn squealed and Bridie again laughed. Ethan waited for the spinner to whirl past three times before grasping the edge and spinning it again.

Finn again squealed but Bridie no longer laughed. Ethan tracked her as she climbed down the rungs on the web. Instead of waiting for the apparatus to slow to a gentle speed he knew she’d soon jump right off.

He readied in case she fell flat on her face. But she landed on both feet and tucked the strands that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Ethan turned his attention to Finn.

Then in his peripheral vision he saw Bridie sway and pitch sideways. He turned and flung an arm around her waist to catch her. She grasped his bare forearms and swayed again before straightening to stare at his chin.

“Sorry,” she said, words vague, her eyes not lifting to his. “I’m so .... dizzy.”

“It’s fine. Everything will stop spinning soon.”

Bridie’s grip tightened on his arms. Ethan fought to remain unmoved. The warmth of her touch heated his skin. Her rose scent filled his lungs.

A soft thud sounded as Finn jumped from the now slow-moving spinner. Ethan turned to check that Finn too wasn’t dizzy. He listed to the left, but covered the short distance to them and wrapped his tiny arms around Ethan’s leg.

Ethan chuckled. “A great pair of pirates you’d make. You have landlubber legs, not sea legs.”

Bridie’s grip eased and she lifted her hands as if testing the stability of her surroundings before taking a small step away. “Tell me about it.” This time she met his gaze, smile sheepish. “Is now a good time to confess last time we went on the spinner it wasn’t moving.”

Ethan looked skywards before he ruffled Finn’s hair. “Now you tell me. I wouldn’t have spun you quite so hard.”

Finn pulled away from his leg, his grin infectious. “But it was fun.”

Gait still unsteady he skipped over to a blue whale mounted on springs. He sat inside and rocked forward and then backward.

Bridie screwed up her nose, her face still pale. “No more spinning or rocking for me, the picnic table bench will suit me fine.”

Ethan checked his watch before they retraced their steps to the table. “I’m meeting Cordell soon but can stay if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, you go, I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.”

Ethan stifled a pang of loss that she no longer needed his help. “Okay. See you then.”

He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and check on her as he strode to his truck. Bridie was back to her old independent self and it was the way things should be.



Ethan took a swig of his beer and leaned back in the booth at Grey’s. It was his favorite time of day in the historic saloon. Soft music played broken only by the occasional clink of glass and hearty laugh of the two cowboys wearing plaid shirts seated at the bar. Otherwise the saloon was empty, with no groups of rowdy patrons to keep an eye on for potential trouble.

His childhood on the run might have ended when his mother had married steady rancher, Scott, but the lessons life had taught him never faded. Stay calm. Stay in control. Be prepared.

In a small, nameless town, his mother had found work behind a bar. He could still remember the tremble in her slim fingers when she’d dressed for her shift. Years of living with an alcoholic and abusive stepfather had left their scars. Raised voices and the smell of beer never failed to make her anxious. No matter how late her shift ended, Cordell and Ethan would stay awake to check she made it home.

One night she was late and they’d slipped away from their grandmother to sprint the block to the saloon. The two drunks looking for a good time and standing between their mother and her car hadn’t stood a chance. Tall and world-weary for his years, Cordell threw the first punch. In countless schoolyards Ethan had always been the twin to talk their way out of trouble, but this time he was done talking. His fist landed the second punch.

They left town the next day but not before they’d heard how the two men had been attacked by a gang of youths and had still managed to fight them off.

Ethan traced a pattern in the condensation on the beer bottle. But the next town they drifted to had been Colorado Springs and it was there widower, Scott, had become a regular at the diner where their mother had found work. She became his housekeeper and they moved to his ranch. A year later she became his wife. Ethan and Cordell never had to protect her again.