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

Kade tucked his hands into his back pockets. “You mean why aren’t I living the high life?” Why am I wearing boots that need to be resoled while you’re wearing brand-new eelskin?

“Pretty much.”

“Just the way things worked out, Mr. Barton.” He wasn’t going to recite a litany of his life errors for this guy.

Barton patted the colt that Kade had just haltered. “If I’m happy with these, there’ll be more.”

“You’ll be happy,” Kade said. Because if there was one thing Kade understood, it was horses.

“I hope so. I have some friends who wouldn’t mind having a world champion cowboy tune up their horses.”

Kade just smiled. The irony was that riding broncs and starting colts had about as much in common as did competing in a demolition derby and teaching drivers’ ed. Both might involve cars, but there weren’t a whole lot of similarities beyond that. If Barton wanted to pay for Kade’s name, however, Kade wouldn’t dissuade him. He’d do an excellent job on the colts, get paid well and they’d both be happy.

Joe left after Kade had worked the third colt, a skittish chestnut that was more difficult to handle than the other two. Kade put away his tack, then went to sit in his lawn chair and stare at the house as if it was an adversary. Which, in a sense, it was.

He wasn’t going in there tonight. He’d spent enough time alone, working on it. He felt antsy. Edgy. After he’d stopped drinking, he’d also stopped socializing for the most part. It was the surest way to avoid temptation, so he’d spent a lot of time alone. Alone was nothing new.

Maybe that was the problem.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE CUPBOARDS WERE almost bare and the propane was getting low in the tanks.

Kade realized he was searching for an excuse to go to town, so why not just go? And while there, maybe he’d stop by the café and grab a bite. He’d avoided public places in Otto because he hated playing Kade Danning, rodeo champion, when that was no longer who he was. And it bothered him that people who’d ignored him back when he’d been just ordinary Kade Danning, a local kid who could have used some support while dealing with his asshole dad, now embraced him. But if he was going to be here for months and months, which seemed a definite possibility considering the condition of his father’s property, then he needed to re-introduce himself to Otto society, such as it was.

As he drove past the bar he noticed there were more vehicles than was normal for eight o’clock, but the hand-lettered Chorizo Night sign explained the full lot.

Libby’s truck was parked next to the building, and yet he pulled in anyway, citing the adage about it being a free country. He no longer drank, but what better night than Chorizo Night to say hello to his neighbors?

He spotted Libby immediately sitting at a table with Dennis Mann—Menace, they’d all called him back in high school. A tall, fair-haired guy carrying a plate filled with beans and salad, chorizo in a bun balanced on top, sat down next to Libby and she smiled at him. A few minutes later Jason Ross and a pretty blonde sat down. He’d heard Jason had gotten married. That had to be the new missus.

Kade automatically started searching for a place to sit on the other side of the room, prior to getting in line. Someone said his name and he turned to see Cal Johnson, one of his old classmates, now wearing a deputy sheriff’s uniform and sporting a shaved head.

“I’ve been planning to stop by and say hello,” Cal said. “You saved me the trouble.”

“Glad to oblige,” Kade said, shaking his hand.

More people gathered around and before long he was in the center of a crowd at the end of the food line, renewing old acquaintances, some of which he wasn’t even aware he’d had. A redhead who introduced herself as Trista attached herself to him, and it became clear that he was no longer destined to be lonely if he didn’t choose to be. He was starting to feel just a bit claustrophobic. And also like a fraud. It’d been three years since he’d won a buckle, and during one of those years he’d actively tried to destroy himself. He wasn’t really hometown-hero material. But the novelty of having a two-bit celebrity around would wear off eventually, and then maybe he could actually hang with some people. Be just plain Kade Danning.

He pulled out his wallet, paid the cashier ten bucks, got a paper plate in return and started loading up. Cal waved him over to his small table and squeezed in chairs for both Kade and Trista, who’d followed.

“I just love a good chorizo,” she said with a half smile. No doubting her meaning. Kade smiled noncommittally, then glanced in Libby’s direction. The blond guy had said something, and she was laughing. Kade took too big a bite of his chorizo and almost choked.

Maybe he should have stayed home.

“KADE’S HERE.” Jason sat down with his plate of food.

“I know,” Libby replied. She’d spotted him almost as soon as he entered the building, as if her Kade radar had been on. It had been just a matter of time until they ended up in the same place at the same time, Otto being as small as it was. She was glad now that she’d gone to see him and that they’d gotten the first big meet-up out of the way. It made things easier. Not great by any means, but easier.

Which made her wonder, did all people feel this much pain over ex-lovers years later? She didn’t have a lot of experience in that particular arena, since she never allowed herself to get serious about anyone. It saved a lot of wear and tear on her emotions.

“Who’s Kade?” Kira, Jason’s wife, asked.

“A blast from the past.” Libby lifted her glass to her lips. No doubt Jason would explain all to his wife later.

Less than an hour after he’d arrived, Kade got to his feet, said his goodbyes to Cal Johnson and the other people at his table and headed for the rear exit. Libby was not at all surprised to see Trista, who’d been cozied up to him since he’d arrived, follow him out the door.

She was, however, surprised to see Trista come back in a few minutes later, her expression bordering on angry. Perhaps Kade had learned to say no, after all. Too bad it was a few years too late.

The jukebox started up, overly loud as always, and Libby accepted a challenge from Menace to play a game of pool. Life went on, and it didn’t really matter if Kade was in Otto or not.

Later, while Kira and Libby’s vet and occasional escort, Stan, were playing one of the worst games of pool Libby had ever witnessed, Jason came to stand next to her. Together they leaned back against the wall, watching the action and occasionally wincing as an easy shot went askew.

“Doing all right?” Jason finally asked in a gruff, man-not-comfortable-talking-about-emotions voice.

“I haven’t been hit by the cue ball yet.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I’m doing fine in every possible way.” She shifted her gaze sideways toward Jason. “I went to see him.” She didn’t have to explain which him she meant.

“Yeah?”

She moistened her lips. “I met his daughter. Cute kid.”

Jason didn’t reply. At least one of them wasn’t playing a game.

“I’m still angry,” she said in a low voice, giving up the act as she brought her attention back to the pool table. “I don’t want to feel a damned thing. Nothing. But I can’t help it. It’s disturbing.” On many levels. She exhaled and went silent for a moment before saying philosophically, “He’ll be gone as soon as the ranch sells.”

“Have you seen what kind of shape that ranch is in? It’ll be a while before he gets it ready.”

She gave Jason a sharp look. “Any more good news?”

“I don’t think he’ll bother you.” Jason smiled a little as Libby’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Jason, keep your nose out of my business. It’s kind of embarrassing to have a self-appointed big brother taking care of business that I need to handle myself.”

But Libby would have done the same for him in a similar situation. In fact, she’d once made an attempt to protect him from the woman who eventually became his wife. Considering the circumstances, though, she’d been justified.

“I understa—Whoa!” Jason jerked sideways, bumping into her, as a ball flew off the table, barely missing him before bouncing off the wall.

“Sorry,” Stan muttered. He took the ball from Jason, put it back on the table and started lining up his next shot.

LIBBY WAS IN A mood the next day, but fortunately no one came close enough to achieve injured-bystander status. Actually all of the employees of the Wesley BLM field office were maintaining low profiles, and whenever Ellen did a walkabout the staff made an effort to appear busy, even if she’d just cut funding for their current project in her massive rearrangement of the budget and now they had little to do.

Ellen seemed quite happy, though. She’d patrol the offices at least twice a day, her perfectly polished glasses sparkling in the dim fluorescent light. Ellen was forever polishing something—her glasses, her desk, her résumé.

Everyone on staff had taken a hit that week except for Libby, who still was working on her recommendations for the range-usage report. Not much Ellen could do about that, since it was almost completed, but Libby’s office mate Stephen had lost his project. He was now busy planning a totally unnecessary range survey in order to justify his existence. Being the newest person on the staff, he was one of Ellen’s favorite victims, and now he sat with his head down, his lanky body hunched over his desk, his wire-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose as he concentrated and tried to make himself invisible.