The Trouble With Cowgirls

A sting of heat rose to her cheeks. “I will take your suggestions under advisement. Thank you.” She wished he’d leave so she could review the schedules without him watching her every move.

Lane lowered himself onto the chair next to her and set his hat upside down on the corner of the desk. “I’m going to offer you a little unsolicited advice. Instead of focusing on what you feel needs to change, concentrate on what you don’t know.”

“Such as?” Lucy wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer, but she was certain being alone with him in the small room was making it increasingly difficult to breathe.

“When was the last time you rode with a Western saddle? Better yet, when was the last time you saddled a Western horse?”

Lucy tapped a pen against her notebook. “The last time I was here.”

“Then that’s where you need to begin. There will be days when you’ll need to saddle a horse and get out there with the rest of us. I’ll pair you up with one of the grooms and they’ll walk you through the entire process of saddling a cutting horse and get you accustomed to riding Western again. You should shadow some of the trainers and ride a few of the cutting horses. You need to understand what we do and how we do it in order to run this facility.”

These were all things she’d thought about last night. She just hadn’t wanted to hear them from the man she knew still wanted her job. “Thanks, but these things are already on my list.”

“Okay, then.” Lane rose, grabbed his hat and strode to the office door. “I’ll leave you to it, boss.”

Boss? Great—attitude. She hadn’t expected anything less, and if she were honest with herself, he gave as good as she did.

After fumbling her way through the majority of the day, Lucy ran into town to pick up a phone for Carina. She couldn’t wait to get home to hear how her day had gone.

Shortly after Lucy arrived at the cottage, Ella stopped by to drop off Carina. When Lucy opened the front door, Carina made a beeline inside without a word. Lucy thanked Ella for bringing her daughter home, then said goodbye and closed the door, trailing after Carina. She yelped, practically tripping over a backpack on the floor. Usually her daughter wasn’t so careless. Seeing Carina’s bedroom door closed, she knocked—no answer. She tried the knob—locked. Typical Carina. Lock the door, pop in the earbuds and crank up the iPod. It used to infuriate Antonio. Luckily, their cottage was on one level. Lucy walked around the side of the house and found Carina’s bedroom window open. She climbed inside, scaring her daughter half to death.

“That’ll teach you.” Lucy grinned and gently tugged on Carina’s earbuds.

“What do you want?” Carina snarled in Italian.

What happened to the sweet little girl with the cheery disposition I raised? “How was school?”

“I hate it.” Carina pouted.

“Did you give it a chance?” Lucy sat on the edge of the twin-size bed. Her daughter had had a king-size one in their villa.

“Yes,” Carina huffed. “They talk fast and I don’t know what my homework is.”

“Did you ask your teacher to write it down for you?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to look stupid.”

“I’ll call the school on Monday and ask the teacher to write out your assignments.” Lucy stopped Carina from putting her earbuds back in. “You can’t give up. It’s not easy for me, either.”

“Fine.”

Lucy stood, knowing she was about to be tuned out once again. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Nothing.”

One-word answers. Lovely. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone, but keep the door unlocked or I’ll take it off the hinges. Oh, before I forget.” Lucy fished the new cell phone from her pocket and handed it to Carina. “For you.”

“Great, now I have a phone and no one to call.”

Lucy threw her hands in the air and left the room. Skipping dinner, she sank into one of the white rocking chairs on the front porch. A refreshing breeze ruffled the collar of her Bridle Dance polo shirt. A lush green palette of the Texas Hill Country danced before her as the sun began to cast evening shadows against the house. The view was still gorgeous. She had seen her first American sunset with Lane. They’d been barely fourteen that first summer. He had placed his hat on her head, kissed her cheek and called her his Italian cowgirl. What she wouldn’t give to relive that moment again. There used to be so much hope in the unknown, before life became scary and real. She missed those days... More important, she missed those days with Lane.

* * *

LANE POPPED THE top off a longneck and sat on the wooden front steps of the bunkhouse. The setting sun reminded him of Lucy. It always had.

“Do you want a burger?” Rusty asked from behind the grill.

He eased his body up, grabbed a plate and heaped a spoonful of the older man’s famous mac and cheese onto it. He fixed his burger and joined the rest of his bunkmates at the picnic table.

“How’s the boss lady working out?” one of them asked. “Didn’t you used to date her? It’s gotta suck working for your ex-girlfriend.”

Lane groaned, opting to take a bite of his burger instead of answering.

“Hey, kid,” Rusty began. “Far be it from me to stick my nose in your business, but are you sure that kid ain’t yours?”

Lane shot him a death glare. “You’re right. It’s none of your business, but I’ll set the record straight before that rumor spreads and Carina or one of her cousins catches wind of it. Lucy and I have already had that conversation. She isn’t mine. She’s not even the right age.”

While it hurt to know Lucy had gone home to Italy and had another man’s child while he’d been planning a future with her, a part of him had been equally relieved Carina wasn’t his daughter. He hadn’t been ready for kids back then. He wasn’t sure if he was ready now, but he’d given the idea more thought lately. Despite Nicolino’s never giving him enough credit, he envied the man’s relationship with Ella. Their lives were crazy and loud with five kids, but even as disorganized and frazzled as they sometimes were, they were happy.

“I think you should ask her out,” Rusty said between bites. “You’re far from strangers, and Lord knows, you’ve been pining over her ever since she left.”

“Since when did you become a matchmaker?” a ranch hand asked.

“I’ve done more livin’ than all of you combined. That entitles me to give advice.”

Lane laughed. “You noticed he said advice, not good advice.”

“Where’s the kid’s father?”

“He died four months ago, and the kid’s name is Carina.” Lucy had bombarded him with questions all day. He didn’t want to answer more, especially any that pertained to her. “Do me a favor and let it drop.”

They finished their meal talking about trucks and the new female bull-riding instructor at the rodeo school adjacent to the stables. It was nice seeing other men make fools of themselves over women so it wasn’t just him.

“The way I see it, you and Lucy are doing the Texas two-step.” A collective round of groans accompanied an onslaught of wadded-up napkins aimed at Rusty.

“You might as well hear him out and then maybe he’ll shut up,” a ranch hand said.

Lane set his beer on the table and faced Rusty. “Okay, this is your one shot. Lay it on me.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, you best be damn sure you don’t want a second chance with her, because she’s an attractive woman and this place is filled with cowboys who’d ride through fire for a chance to whirl her around the dance floor.”

He hadn’t thought of that. He looked around the table at his bunkmates. “I swear, if any of you ask her out, I’ll—”

“Relax.” Rusty smacked Lane on the shoulder. “She couldn’t handle a man like me.”

Everyone laughed. Lane didn’t think he had to worry about a 75-year-old ranch hand going after Lucy. Rusty had a point, though. Lane had no claim to Lucy and she was free to date whomever she wanted. So why did the thought of it gnaw at the pit of his stomach?

Lane checked his pockets for his keys and wallet and excused himself from the table. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”