A Cowboy's Pride

“She’s too fancy for country line-dancing,” Cole heard himself say, the words flying from his tongue without his permission.

“Excuse me?” A slight twang entered Katie-Lynn’s voice as it rose a half octave. “I’ve probably forgotten more steps than you’ll ever know.”

“Those sound like fighting words,” Boyd observed, leaning against the counter.

Cole stepped close and Katie-Lynn angled her face up to his, her chin jutting. “I don’t believe you.”

“Want to bet?” Katie-Lynn challenged, her cool, controlled mask slipping. Before him stood the competitive country girl who used to dare him to climb trees as high as her, race horses as fast, catch as many trout. And he’d lost almost as often as he’d won. Not that he’d cared. Then.

“You’re on,” he said, unable to resist her sparkling eyes.

“It’s a dance-off!” Sierra rubbed her hands together. “And I’ll be the judge. Cole, what are you betting?”

“If I win, Katie-Lynn finds another place to stay.”

Katie-Lynn’s head shake silenced his father’s and Sierra’s protests. “No need to worry. I’m not planning on losing.” Her nose flared, and her left eyebrow twitched up.

“What’ll you get if you win?” Sierra smacked Cole with a death-by-glare look.

“TBD,” Katie-Lynn announced, her radiant expression mischievous and daring. His breath caught at the glimpse of the gutsy girl he’d fallen for years ago. “Come on, Sierra. Show me some jeans. The real kind without a designer label.”

And with that, the two women disappeared up the stairs, leaving Cole to stare after them.

“What’s TBD mean?” his father asked.

TBD. To be determined. Which could mean anything. He had to win this dance-off and get the intriguing Katlynn Brennon as far from him as possible. She’d already messed with his head and his heart enough for one lifetime.

He hung his head and peered up at his pa.

“It means I’m a dang fool.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#uf565d4ba-a430-5d93-8122-1534b2b84435)

“COLE LOVELAND?”

At his name, Cole stopped inside the Silver Spurs’ entrance and peered into the throng of country-western-dressed locals. The dim, one-room honky-tonk was packed. Overhead fans stirred humid air reeking of beer, sweat and peanuts while cowboys and cowgirls jammed the old-time wooden bar. In the far corner, his brother Heath, wearing a black T-shirt with sleeves shoved up to his shoulders, ripped through a guitar solo, sending his hovering female fans into a tizzy of squeals and shrieks.

“Is that you?” Ted Jansen, an old high school buddy, stomped up and clapped Cole on the back.

“Unfortunately,” Cole muttered under his breath. Nothing against Ted. He just wasn’t much for talking to people. Or just plain talking.

“Haven’t seen you in so long—thought you were dead or something.” Ted’s whiskey-scented laugh blasted Cole. Beside him, Katie-Lynn coughed into her hand.

“Or something,” Sierra drawled, elbowing Cole. “My brother isn’t much for socializing.”

“That’s an understatement,” Travis spoke up, joining them with their adopted brother Daryl. Travis hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and planted his boots wide on the scuffed wooden floor. “Cole only leaves home to volunteer at Fresh Start. Otherwise, he’s a hermit.”

“Recluse has a nobler ring to it.” Sierra shot Cole a sideways smile beneath the lantern lights dangling from an exposed-beam ceiling.

He could feel Katie-Lynn studying him, sensed the warm blue of her eyes touching his jaw like a caress. Slipping a finger into his shirt collar, he pulled it from his heated neck.

“Walking dead’s closer to it.” Daryl lifted his black cowboy hat to reveal brown curls plastered against his forehead before settling it on again. “Just barely alive.”

“Knock it off,” Cole growled, accepting a beer from Ted. He tossed back a long drink.

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it,” Katie-Lynn teased.

The Western twang creeping into her voice again made him bite back the smile he’d been fighting since she’d emerged from his sister’s room dressed in faded Wranglers, dusty boots and a plaid shirt with fringe piping on the sleeves. She looked downhome and pretty, her hair back in a French braid, her red lipstick swapped for clear gloss over naturally rosy lips.

“When do I dish it out?” he protested, dragging his eyes off her pretty mouth.

“Puh-lease,” guffawed Travis.

“All. The. Time!” exclaimed Sierra.

“Like I said, no sense of humor.” Daryl turned slightly and whistled. “Katie-Lynn? You’re looking good, girl!”

“So are you. Congratulations. Heard you got married. Is your wife here?”

Katie-Lynn bestowed one of her killer smiles on Daryl. Cole pinned his eyes on the rollicking band, trying—and failing—to tune her out.

“No... I...uh...she’s not feelin’ herself tonight.” At the note of sadness creeping into Daryl’s voice, Cole turned to study his brother. Daryl and his wife’s marital troubles weren’t hard to miss given she alternated between sulky pouts and sharp put-downs on the few occasions she accompanied Daryl anywhere. But it wasn’t Cole’s business to stick his nose in, so he kept quiet. Didn’t stop him from worrying about his brother, though.

Not one bit.

“Now I see why you came out tonight, Cole.” Ted half mauled, half hugged Katie-Lynn, stumbling slightly when Cole pulled her from the man’s grip. “You two, together again. Never would have believed it.”

Travis’s eyes dropped to the arm Cole wrapped around Katie-Lynn, then rose to meet Cole’s gaze.

Katie-Lynn jerked free. “I’m here on business.”

“What kind of business?” Ted leered, winking.

“Easy.” Cole glared at Ted.

“Hey, she’s your lady.” Ted backed off. “I get it.”

“No, she’s not!” Cole hollered at Ted’s retreating back.

“Sure about that?” Travis grabbed Cole’s arm, stopping him, when the rest of the group departed for the dance floor. Katie-Lynn shot him an inscrutable, over-the-shoulder look before disappearing into the crowd.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I see the way you’ve been looking at Katie-Lynn.”

“What way’s that?”

“Like you’ve still got feelings for her.”