Sheltered By The Cowboy

“Are you gay?”

He released a small laugh. “Nope.”

For a moment she couldn’t remember what they’d just been talking about. All she could think of was that low, slightly husky and very sexy sound that had escaped him. She turned and grabbed her corn chips off the nightstand and then faced him once again.

“Why do you date so many men?” he asked.

She looked at him in surprise. “I’m twenty-nine years old, I’m single and I’m looking for the toad who will become my Prince Charming. So far, they’ve all just been common toads.”

“Maybe your standards are too high,” he replied. Once again he wasn’t looking at her but rather peering someplace over her head.

“Probably,” she agreed easily. “But why would I lower my standards as to who I want to spend the rest of my life with? I want a man who loves me desperately, somebody who will always have my back no matter what. I’ve never, ever had anyone like that in my entire life.”

“What about your family?”

She masked that particular pain with a small laugh. “My mother died when I was ten. A month after her death, my older brother ran away and never came back. My father pretty much hates my existence and only keeps me around so I can cook and clean for him.”

Afraid that she had sounded too harsh about her father, she continued, “Dad hurt his back nine years ago and had to go on disability, and he never got over my mother’s death. He needs my help and I’m glad to do it. All I want is to be good enough that he’ll be proud of me and love me.”

Jeez, what was she doing baring her soul to him? She really didn’t know him at all. She grabbed a chip from her bag, not wanting to think about how alone she’d felt for most of her life.

“You never heard from your brother again?” he asked.

She shook her head. “When Graham left he never looked back. I think maybe it helped break my father’s heart even more and that’s what made him so hard and bitter. So, what about you? What’s your family story?” She didn’t want to think about her brother or her father anymore. It hurt too much.

He stared up at the ceiling, as if contemplating whether to share anything with her or not. “You’ve probably heard that all of us cowboys at the Holiday Ranch were throwaway kids. Cass Holiday took us in when we were all in our early teens.”

“Everyone in town has heard the story,” she replied.

“I was fourteen when my father threw me out of the house because he caught me smoking a cigarette. It was almost a relief to be forced to leave. Like you, I lost my mama when I was young. My father was a brutal man with an uncontrollable rage inside him and that rage was usually focused on me.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I was fairly lucky. I’d only been out on the streets about a month when Francine Rogers, a social worker who was friends with Cass, offered me the chance to work on a ranch and brought me to Cass.”

“I didn’t know Cass well before she died, although I’ve heard all kinds of wild stories about her.”

His lips curled up in a beautiful smile that stole her breath away. “She was quite a character...tough as nails, yet she made all of us feel valued and wanted. Most of us probably would have died on the streets if not for her.”

“It’s so nice she gave you all a second chance.”

“She gave us hope and while we were all a little worried when Cassie, her niece, took over, everything has been different, but fine.”

Mandy released a small sigh. “I’m hoping someday I can get to a really good place with my father.”

Brody’s smile disappeared. “And what if that doesn’t happen?” he asked.

“Then I’ll just have to be content with the knowledge that I did everything I could for him,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “See?” she added with a wide grin. “We’re getting along just fine. We have a lot in common.”

He quirked a dark eyebrow upward. “Bad childhoods don’t necessarily make us good friend material.”

She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her, but she wanted him to come away from this night seeing her as so much more than her crummy reputation.

“Do you like pizza?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?” he replied easily.

“What about Mexican food?”

“There isn’t much I don’t like to eat,” he said.

“That’s great. You like to eat and I love to cook. That’s something else that makes us potential friend material.”

For the next couple of hours they talked about all kinds of topics. They both enjoyed country and western music and disliked hard rock. Autumn was her favorite season and he liked spring the best. The more time that passed with light conversation, the more they relaxed with each other.

She told him about her dream to someday open a little restaurant of her own, and he talked about his life and work on the ranch. But she knew her attraction to him would go nowhere. He didn’t seem to be drawn to her in that way at all.

They had just finished eating all their goodies when the conversation returned to her reputation.

“You didn’t go to Bitterroot High School,” she said.

“No, Cass decided it was best to homeschool all of us.”

“You were lucky. It was a seething pool of gossip and drama, and that’s when my bad reputation started. I was dating Richard Herridge when we were both juniors. He was on the football team and real popular.”

“He works on the Humes ranch now,” Brody said, his scowl back.

“He’s just another creep like all the rest of the men who work for Humes,” she replied. The Holiday Ranch hands and the Humes men didn’t get along. The entire town knew about the ongoing feud between the neighboring ranches.

“Anyway, we’d been dating for about a month and he started pressuring me to have sex with him. I finally said it wasn’t going to happen and I broke up with him. The next morning everyone at school was talking about how I had sex with him, and then he broke up with me because he’d gotten what he wanted. And that’s when it all began.”

She couldn’t begin to speak of the depth of the anguish that had chased her through the last of her high school years. Girls scorned her and lots of the boys dated her and then lied about having sex with her.

Even now there were women who were reluctant to have anything to do with her, but her dance card was always filled. She’d never figured out a way to change people’s perception of her, and she’d finally stopped trying long ago.

“You haven’t exactly gone out of your way to try to change people’s view of you,” Brody said.

“What’s the point? People expect provocative behavior from me and so that’s what I give them. I’m kind of like a cow that has been branded, and once that brand is done there’s no way to get rid of it.”

She shrugged and then grabbed at the bedspread before it could slip downward. “Every town needs a bad girl and I guess I play that role in Bitterroot.”

He gazed at her for a long moment and then released a deep sigh. “It’s getting late. I suggest we both get some sleep. Hopefully the tow trucks will be out here early in the morning.”

“My clothes should be dry by now.” She got up from the bed, careful to keep the bedspread in place, and grabbed her clothing from the heater vent. “I’ll be right back.”

It took her only minutes in the bathroom to redress in the now warm and dry Santa costume. When she returned to the room, together they put the bedspread back on. Then he turned out the light and they got into bed. She snuggled under the covers and he remained on top.

Even in the dark she was acutely aware of him so close to her, close enough that she could swear she heard the steady beat of his heart. It was slightly thrilling even though she knew it shouldn’t be so.

“Brody?”