Come Closer, Cowboy

Oh, she’d guessed after that night she might have a problem with the way women threw themselves at him. It was another reason she’d run. But watching how women had reacted to him last night was so much worse than she’d imagined.

She drew in a deep breath and glanced around. She had a lot to do. Her new living room was narrow but clean and rustic, and she loved having a fireplace. She didn’t even mind that it took up a third of the brick wall. But it was the wraparound porch with a perfect view of the Rockies that had stolen her heart. The owners had even left a swing and a wooden rocking chair. If she didn’t have so much unpacking to do, she’d be out there right now, lounging on the swing and sipping an iced tea.

Boy, that was a hard image to picture. Much too homey and so not her.

She would never let Gunner see the place. For sure he’d think she’d lost it. The possibility wasn’t too far out there. What else would explain her decision to start moving in now? She was paid up at The Boarding House Inn for two more days and she was still wiped out from last night. If she believed Sadie, and it seemed the woman was never wrong, the Full Moon would be packed tonight again.

Luckily, Mallory had a woman wanting part-time work coming in later to talk to her. Elaine had vouched for her. It would simply be a matter of agreeing on schedules.

She ripped the tape off a box and then heard her phone. It wasn’t in her pocket. She listened, thought the ring might be coming from the kitchen. By the time she found her cell under a pile of newspapers, the caller had been sent to voice mail. But she recognized Dexter’s number and saw that he’d also called forty minutes ago.

Mallory listened carefully to his awkward message and sighed. She disconnected and looked at the time. If she’d understood correctly, he’d be delivering the bull in about ten minutes.

Great. She had no one to help her unload and set up. Damn, she couldn’t even call Ben now that Gunner was staying at the Silver Spur. Hopefully, Dexter was bringing someone with him.

She made it to the bar just as a pair of brawny cowboys climbed out of an old blue truck parked at the curb.

“Mornin’,” the taller man said, touching the brim of his hat. “We heard you might need some help?”

“Yes, but how would— Sadie?”

He grinned and nodded. “I’m Brady. This here is Tom.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Tom said and yanked off his cowboy hat, revealing a buzz cut.

“I’m Mallory.” She stepped forward and shook their hands. Both men were about her age, she guessed, and looked nice and strong. “I appreciate this so much. Of course I’ll pay you for—”

“No, ma’am. We volunteered.” Tom seemed offended.

“It’s our day off.” Brady lifted his hat and swept back his longish blond hair before resettling the hat on his head. He was kind of cute. Great smile. And he seemed familiar. “We’re on our own time and just wanna help.”

“Oh, well...” She studied him more closely. “You were here at the opening last night. Sitting near the jukebox...” She took a guess. “Both of you...”

They nodded, clearly pleased she remembered them. “We’re real glad you opened the place,” Brady said. “The Watering Hole is okay but it gets old.”

The sound of a sputtering engine had her glancing over her shoulder. “I think this might be Dexter,” she said, shading her eyes and watching the ancient pickup slow down. “Look, guys, if you won’t let me pay you then I’m giving you free drinks for a week. Sound fair?”

“No need—” Brady protested.

“Good. It’s settled.” She dug a key out of her jeans pocket and unlocked the door to the bar.

The bull was a monstrosity. It sat in the bed of the truck covered by a white tarp. After a word with Dexter, she hurried inside to clear a path to the back room. Brady followed behind her, picking up the solid oak tables as if they weighed nothing.

Tom joined them and the two men scoped out the spot for the bull and strategized the best way to bring it inside. They didn’t ask for her opinion, in fact they mostly ignored her. And as they maneuvered the bull through the double doors and she tried to help, she was politely ordered to stay out of the way.

Mallory wasn’t used to being dismissed. Nor had she ever been comfortable with depending on anyone, much less strangers, to do things for her. She’d always hated asking for help, even as a kid. Luckily she was generally self-sufficient.

Moving back to give them a wide path into the back room, she told herself this was a different culture out here. They hadn’t really dismissed her. But it was still hard not to jump into the mix as she watched these young husky guys labor under the weight of the bull. Surely it would be better with three people...

Tom momentarily lost his footing, and she stepped forward.

“Don’t do it, Mallory.”

At the sound of Gunner’s voice, she started to turn around. But his hands cupped her shoulders and he drew her several steps backward, until she came up against his chest.

She jerked free and glared at him. “Don’t do what?”

“Get in their way,” he said, his gaze trained on the men. “You’re liable to get someone hurt.”

Even though they were no longer touching, she could feel the tension in his body. Nothing showed in his face as he sidestepped her and whipped off his black Stetson. Her favorite.

“Hey, guys, let me give you a hand.” He pressed the hat to her and she hugged it to her chest.

“We got it,” Brady said, but they were obviously struggling.

Gunner grabbed hold and they managed to carry the bull to the padding she’d had installed in the wood floor. She fought the urge to point out the bull belonged in the reinforced center, afraid they might tear the padding. She figured Gunner had already noticed and would make allowances.

“Ready to set her down?” Gunner asked.

“Ready,” Tom said.

Brady didn’t answer.

“Let’s try to avoid the padded area,” Gunner said mildly. “Now, on the count of three. One...two...three.”

The bull landed dead center.

Sighing with relief, she loosened her death grip on his hat.

Tom stumbled back a step, and then let out a winded laugh. “The sucker is heavy.” He nodded at Gunner. “Thanks.”

“We were doing just fine,” Brady said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “You didn’t need to jump in.”

Tom shook his head. “I’m shorter than you so I was having trouble with the angle.”

“It’s done. That’s what’s important, right?” Gunner clapped Brady on the back. “Now, what can I get you boys? How about a nice cold beer?”

Mallory saw the startled look that passed between the two cowboys, and she wanted to give Gunner a swift kick in his rear. He had no business acting like he owned her and the bar.

“Sure,” she said with a bright smile. “Help yourselves to whatever you want while I go pay Dexter.” She paused. “I’m sorry for not introducing you to Gunner.” She widened her smile and tossed him his hat. “My cousin is visiting for a little while.”

“Oh.” Brady grinned and shook his hand. “I saw you last night. You just get in yesterday?”

Gunner started to laugh, a loud belly laugh that followed her out to the sidewalk. He wanted to talk? Oh yeah, they were going to have a conversation all right. The second she saw Dexter leaning against his truck, hands stuffed in his baggy overalls, his eyelids drooping under a battered straw hat, she remembered something.

He straightened when he saw her, his mouth lifting in a gap-toothed grin. “They get Fanny in there okay?”

“Yes, they did.” She passed him the envelope. “Cash. Just like you wanted.”