Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride: Cowboy Comes Back / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride

He needed to sell the ranch and get back up to Elko. He hoped Jason’s wife would call him soon.

KADE’S PHONE KEPT kicking into voice mail, so Libby pulled into his driveway on her way home.

No time like the present to start practicing the new role she’d assigned herself—that of a civil acquaintance. Another name for it would be ex-lover-who-hates-living-in-the-same-community-but-is-determined-to-save-face.

The door to the house hung wide open.

Libby sat in her truck for a moment before getting out, wondering if Kade’s daughter would be there again. But at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon the girl should just be getting out of school in Elko. Or so Libby hoped.

She crossed the weedy gravel to the house, the sound of hammering growing louder as she approached.

“Hello?” she called as she entered the nearly empty kitchen, remembering the many times she’d done so in the past—usually when Kade’s dad was away from the place.

The hammering stopped abruptly and Kade appeared at the end of the hall, wearing a sweaty T-shirt that clung to his chest, outlining his muscles. Libby swallowed and reminded herself of her role. Civil acquaintance.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, hi,” she said, now aware that “civil acquaintance” was going to be a lot more difficult than “angry ex.” Anger felt safe because it kept the emotions high and protected her from having to acknowledge that she still found Kade ridiculously attractive, that she could close her eyes and remember how it felt to smooth her hands over his muscles, feel his lips on her skin.

“Hi,” he echoed. For a moment they stared at one another, his questioning hazel eyes meeting her cautious blue ones.

Libby squared her shoulders then, as if preparing for a fight. “I came to tell you that I changed my mind. I will go with you to find Blue.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

Libby blinked at him. “The polite thing to say is ‘thank you.’ I’m off tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

“Works fine.”

“If I’m intruding on some plans …”

“No.”

“Are you alone this weekend?”

“Alone?”

“Will your daughter be coming with us?” she asked with more of an edge to her voice than she’d intended.

“I won’t get to see her again for a week or so.”

“Oh.” She tried not to sound relieved, but she was. Riding with Kade, like old times, would be hard enough without having a walking, talking reminder of his infidelity along.

“Whose trailer shall we take?”

“We can take the old stock trailer.”

“Good. The road’s bad and I don’t want to beat up mine.”

Kade smiled slightly. “We could borrow Menace’s father’s trailer and get it back before he realizes it’s gone.”

“Maybe next time.” Libby smiled back, then remembered herself. Acquaintance, not coconspirator. “What time do you want me here?”

“I could swing by and pick you up at your place.”

“My trailer’s already hitched. It’s no problem driving over.” And she wanted to stay in control of her comings and goings.

“Why don’t we leave here at about 4:00 a.m.?”

Libby’s lower jaw shifted sideways. “You’re pushing things. You know that.”

There was still a hint of humor in his eyes as he said, “Yeah, Lib. I do.”

“I’ll be here at five. I have a date tomorrow night, so I want to get back early.”

After a slight pause he said, “Fine.”

“All right.” Libby felt oddly self-conscious, which made her tone brusque as she added, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow. Hey, Lib,” he called, since she was already halfway out the door. She turned back, one had on the door frame. “How’s your horse?”

“Better. The swelling’s going down and there’s no infection.”

He smiled that smile she’d loved so much once upon a time. “I’m glad to hear that. See you tomorrow.”

BOTH THE HOUSE and the horse trailer were dark when Libby pulled into Kade’s driveway. She parked the truck and waited, but there was no sign of life. She no longer needed to be home early, since Sam had called the night before to postpone their date—he had to cover for another vet in Elko—but Libby saw no reason to tell Kade that. She wanted to hold on to that excuse for getting back.

So where was Kade? Libby got out of the truck, zipping her sweatshirt against the crisp morning air. He lived in the trailer, so she’d start there. Was he still in bed? If he was, she hoped he no longer slept in the nude.

Libby shoved the image out of her mind as she approached the side door. Kade’s trailer was top-of-the-line, with fancy living quarters in the front and room for three horses in the rear. It was shiny and well kept up, except for the area on the side where there had once been writing. The words had been painted over, but Libby could make out the outlines of the raised letters. Kade Danning, World Champion Saddle Bronc Rider.

Libby hadn’t been around for his glory days. He’d become a world champion PB—Post Breakup, or Post Betrayal. Either one worked for her. The media had loved him, though, so she still got a healthy dose of Kade, like it or not. Not long after the second world title, the one he’d won after coming back from a serious injury, Libby had been bombarded by his image on billboards and in magazines, selling Dusty Saddle microbrew and Rough Out jeans. Women loved him and men admired him. Libby had hated his guts by then, because he had lied to her in the worst possible way. It had taken her a long time to get to the point where seeing his image didn’t send a sharp stab of pain through her or piss her off. And now she was about to spend the day with him voluntarily.

She was growing. It wasn’t easy, but she was making progress.

Kade came around the barn then, leading a beautiful chestnut colt with a lot of chrome—four high white socks and a wide blaze down his face.

Libby let out a low whistle.

“He’s not mine,” Kade said before loading the horse into the beat-up stock trailer.

“Whose horse is he?”

“Joe Barton’s.”

“The guy who owns the Boggy Flat ranch?” Libby asked.

“Zephyr Valley.”

Libby was glad to hear the note of sarcasm in Kade’s voice.