Give Me A Cowboy. Jodi Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ live from midlife to old age with one of the sisters and her family.

      He glanced at the others, their voices drifting lower as they strolled toward the hotel. Rowdy wondered how often this third sister had been left behind, forgotten.

      He moved around his horse and tossed the brush he’d been using in a bucket. For once in his life he wished he had clean Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. He’d been an outsider enough to recognize another. The least he could do was offer her a way out of her awkward situation.

      “Miss,” he said, shoving his hat back so she could see his face. “May I help you down?”

      She looked at him with a flash of surprise, as if she thought herself alone in the world.

      For a moment he figured she’d tell him to mind his own business, but then he saw it…a smile that lifted the corner of her mouth. A pretty mouth, he thought, in a plain face.

      “Thank you,” she whispered and took his hand as he helped her down.

      The surrey shifted slightly and he placed his free hand on her waist to steady her. Though she stood taller than his shoulder, she felt soft, almost fragile. He didn’t offer to carry her. He had a feeling that would have embarrassed them both, but when she reached the ground, he tucked her gloved hand into his elbow and walked across the road to a boardwalk made from mostly green planks.

      Once she stepped on the boards, he touched his hat and turned to leave.

      “Thank you, Rowdy Darnell,” she whispered.

      He froze. Without facing her, he asked, “You know who I am?”

      “Of course. We were in sixth grade together the year you and your father moved here.” Her soft voice changed slightly. “The year before I was sent away to school.”

      Shifting, he wished she’d look up so he could see her face again. After his mother died, his father only sent him to school when he wanted an undisturbed day of drinking. Rowdy was there barely long enough to learn the other kids’ names. Not that it mattered much. They weren’t interested in being friends with the town drunk’s boy.

      “Laurel,” Rowdy said slowly as the memory of a thin, shy girl drifted across his mind. “Laurel Hayes.” He remembered liking the way her name sounded.

      She looked up. The tiny smile was back. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said in a voice as gentle as wind chimes whispering on a midnight breeze. “I ride by your father’s place once in a while. Part of the roof on the cabin fell in last winter, but the barn still stands.”

      He nodded, suddenly not wanting to leave her. “I figured that. The sheriff wrote me when my dad died. Sheriff Barnett said he sold off the last of the stock to pay debts.” Rowdy liked the way she looked him in the eye, silently telling him that she had no fear of him. He’d expected to see fear or even hatred in folks when he returned. “But, Miss, I’m not coming back. Just passing through. Thought I’d sell the place and move on.”

      Understanding showed in her eyes along with a sadness that surprised him. “The water’s good on your place. You could make a living running cattle.”

      He didn’t want to tell her that he had less than twelve dollars in his pocket. Not enough to buy even a calf. If he remembered right, she was the oldest daughter of one of the richest ranchers around. She probably shouldn’t even be talking to the likes of him.

      “Well…” He wished he knew more about what to say, but for five years most of the language he’d heard hadn’t been something a lady like her should ever hear. “I’d best be going.”

      To his surprise, the sadness brushed across her pale blue eyes once more. She offered her gloved hand. “Good day, Mr. Darnell. I wish you luck.”

      He hesitated, then gently took her hand in his. Touching someone was another thing he’d almost forgotten how to do.

      When he didn’t say anything, or let go of her hand, she added, “I have to go. The registration for the rodeo events ends in an hour and my father wants me to make sure all our cowhands are signed up for at least one event. For a ten dollar entry fee, each event pays fifty. The best all-around wins cattle. My father says even if his men don’t win, it will work some of the orneriness out of them.”

      “I heard about the cattle prize.” Rowdy let go of her hand thinking that if he entered one event he could walk away with fifty dollars, enough to keep him in food until the ranch sold.

      She hesitated another moment, but neither could think of anything else to say. Rowdy watched her walk toward the post office where a banner flew announcing the rodeo.

      He fingered the ten dollar bill in his pocket. If he signed up and lost, he’d starve until he could sell his land and no one in town would likely offer him a job to tide him over. In fact, Laurel Hayes was probably the only person who would talk to him, and she wouldn’t be allowed after her bear of a father found out who he was. After all, at fifteen, they said he killed a man. The facts hadn’t mattered to the town when he’d been fifteen and they wouldn’t matter now.

      Rowdy thought of the past five years and how he’d been in the saddle from dawn to dark most days. He’d loved working the prison herd and hated each night when they took him back to his cell. He knew he was good at roping and riding. If he entered the rodeo, he wouldn’t be just riding for the fun of it. He’d be riding to survive. He’d pick the category with the fewest entries, give it his all and collect his winnings.

      Walking across to the post office he made up his mind that three days from now he’d be fifty dollars richer no matter what he had to do.

      When he reached the registration table on the porch, several cowhands were standing around, but none seemed in line. He walked up and forced himself to stand tall.

      “How can I help you, mister?” a man, who looked like a banker, said around a cigar.

      “I’d like to enter one event.” Rowdy scanned the choices. Calf roping, bull dogging, tying down for branding, horse racing, saddle bronc riding, steer wrestling.

      “Ten dollars for one event, but you can enter all you want for twenty. Then you’d have a chance at the grand prize. A whole herd of cattle.” The banker pulled out his cigar and pointed it at Rowdy. “Now that would make a cowboy a cattleman.” He laughed and waited.

      Rowdy stepped away to think. Ten dollars more didn’t seem like much. Maybe he could find something to sell on the old ranch. His father used to have a box of tools in the barn. All together they might be worth ten dollars. But he’d never make it to the ranch and back in time, much less make the sale. The only thing he had of value was his saddle and if he sold that he’d have no way of winning any event.

      Turning the corner of the building, he bumped into Laurel in the shadows. His hand shot out to steady her. “Sorry, miss.” With his fingers curved at her waist, he realized he would have known the feel of her even if the shadows had been black as night.

      She looked embarrassed that they’d been so close, but she managed to nod her acceptance of his apology.

      He relaxed. “Hiding out?”

      She nodded again.

      Her plan was painfully obvious. She hadn’t been invited to lunch. It was too early to go back to the surrey, СКАЧАТЬ