Wrangling The Cowboy's Heart

Two months? At the ranch?

That the idea created such conflicting emotions both surprised and annoyed him.

Finn couldn’t deny that Jodie being around that long held a strong appeal for him. At the same time, she wasn’t the type of person he should allow himself to be attracted to, and he knew it deep in his soul.

“So you’re positive I’ll only get meat prices if I bring these horses to the auction mart in town?” Jodie was asking, turning her attention back to the horses.

Finn nodded, wishing he could detach himself from the thought that these amazing animals would be slaughtered. “I wouldn’t make a decision right away, though,” he said. “Maybe ask around. See if there’s anyone who would be willing to take them.”

Jodie nodded again. “For now, it looks as if they need their hooves trimmed. Do you know anyone who could do that for me?”

“I could, if you wanted,” he said. He owed that much to Keith.

“That’d be good.” Jodie’s smile tugged at his resolve to keep his distance from her.

Then Vic was back to grab his riding horses. Time to go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow when my shift is over,” Finn said to Jodie.

“Stop by the house. I’ll give you a hand,” she replied.

He nodded, then grabbed his horse’s reins and walked over to the horse trailer to load it. But as he did, he couldn’t help sneaking a quick glance back to where Jodie still stood.

To his surprise she was watching him, a curious expression on her face.

Chapter Four (#ulink_e489d02c-eb92-5588-9548-1b927cd341b2)

She still played piano.

As Finn knocked on the door, familiar music drifted out the open windows of the McCauley house. He remembered his mother playing the piece, but never as frenetically as it was being pounded out now. Yesterday, when he and Vic had come to round up the horses, Jodie had been outside waiting. Did she forget?

But before he knocked again, he listened a moment, feeling sorrowful at the sound. His mother, a pianist herself, had heard Jodie play a few times and praised the young girl’s talent. Had talked about mentoring her.

But his mom’s reliability was sketchy at best and she’d never followed through on her offer. Just as she’d never followed through on her promises to attend his baseball or basketball games, his school programs or anything requiring her to make a commitment. After his father’s death, it was as if she’d lost all her focus on her family. As a result Finn had ended up neglected and alone. It was thanks to Keith McCauley’s intervention that he’d had someone who was interested in his well-being. Finn owed Keith more than he could ever repay. The man had been a steadying force in his life.

And it was that history that brought him, reluctantly, here today. Keith’s animals needed some basic farrier work. It was the least Finn could do for the man who had been such a huge influence in his life.

He knocked again, more loudly this time.

There was still no answer, so he opened the door and called out, “Anybody home?”

The music stopped abruptly. He heard the screech of a bench being pushed back, then footsteps, and a few seconds later Jodie appeared in the doorway. Today she wore an oversize plaid shirt, a tank top and blue jeans cuffed above bare feet. She had her glossy hair pulled back in a loose braid hanging over one shoulder. She looked more like the country girl he remembered than the retro hippie who’d come to her father’s funeral.

“Hey there,” she said, folding her arms around her waist. “Glad you could come.”

“You got the horses in the corral?” he asked, wanting to get down to business. He had just come off his shift at work and was hungry.

“Sort of,” she said, biting her lip. “I couldn’t round them all up. Mickey and Roany are still out in the pasture.”

“Just as well. I can’t trim all their hooves today, anyhow,” he said.

“Of course.” She slipped on her boots and grabbed a worn straw cowboy hat from a shelf above the empty coatracks.

“I couldn’t help hearing the piano,” he said, still surprised at the beauty of the music. “You ever play anywhere besides bars?”

“Not much opportunity,” she said, dropping the hat on her head and buttoning up her shirt. “And it works for me. Concert pianist was clearly not in the cards.”

He felt a nudge of disappointment at how casually she brushed off something she had talked about with such enthusiasm that one summer.

“How did that happen?” When they were dating, the music scholarship was all she’d talked about. When she’d ditched him for a wild party that night and missed her audition the next day, he had been so utterly disappointed both in her and for her. The rest of the summer she’d avoided him and hung out with a bad group. The next summer she hadn’t shown up at all, and the only time Keith had mentioned her was to tell Finn about the irresponsible life his youngest daughter was leading.

“Life happens,” she said wryly.

Guess that was all he was going to get.

He opened the door for her, but before she walked through, she gave him an enigmatic look. “Still a gentleman, I see.”

“One of the few things my mother taught me,” he said, following her across the porch.

“Where is she now?” Jodie continued.

“Hopefully on her way to Saddlebank.” Finn pushed down the flicker of concern that his mother would flake out on him again. She’d sounded so sincere when she had called him a couple months ago. Maybe things had changed in her life. “She’s accompanying Mandie Parker for our church music festival.”

“Mandie Parker. I’ve heard of her.”

“Really? She sings Christian contemporary music,” Finn said.

Jodie tossed him a wry look. “I’ll have you know I have a variety of musical tastes,” she stated.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“That I only listen to blues in smoky bars or hip-hop in clubs. I get it.”

A smile teased his mouth at her quip. “I stand corrected.”

“As for Mandie, it’s amazing that you managed to get her. She’s very talented.”

“The festival’s in a couple of weeks. If you’re staying here, you could come, if you’re interested.”

“I just might.” Jodie shoved her hands into the back pockets of her blue jeans as she walked alongside him, past the dented and dusty car she had driven here. Clearly waitressing and playing in bars didn’t pay enough to buy decent transportation.

“And how is your mother these days?”

“She’s doing okay.”

“I remember hearing her play at church sometimes when Aunt Laura couldn’t. She was so talented. I sometimes wished she could have given me lessons.”

“Your grandmother in Knoxville taught you to play, didn’t she?”