The Cowboy Way Page 3

  She took a deep breath. The air was pure and held the scent of pine.

  The Trail Boss Cabin was just as cute inside as she had thought it would be. It had two bedrooms and a screened-in back porch overlooking the creek. Pink geranium ivy cascaded from terra-cotta pots on the steps leading down from the porch. She could hear the rushing stream behind and on the right side of the cabin. Like all of the other cabins, it had a wheelchair ramp.

  Inside, a stone fireplace took over one wall of the living room, which flowed into the kitchen. The appliances were old but brilliantly clean. The inside walls were varnished, knotty pine planks, aged to a golden hue. The bedrooms and the bathroom were down a small hall.

  “Hey, Mom, it’s bigger than our apartment,” Kevin yelled from one of the bedrooms.

  “It seems like it is.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to stay here forever?” Kevin came toward her, the wheels of his chair rolling effortlessly down the hardwood floor.

  Beth sighed. It was a homey place in which to live. So calm, so quiet. It seemed like she could reach out and touch the mountains. However, she had to make a living and that living was in Lizard Rock, Arizona.

  Heaven knows, she had enough bills to pay. She lived free at the apartments and received a small salary for being the rental agent and manager, but she had to be there to do her job. She was lucky that Inez, her boss, had given her this time off. Unfortunately, it was without pay, and that was going to set her budget plans back to the Stone Age.

  “That’s not possible, Kevin,” she said. “I have a job back in Arizona and you have school. Remember, this is just a vacation.”

  “But if we lived here, it would be like a vacation all the time,” Kevin said. “Huh, Jake?”

  Jake deposited their suitcases near the kitchen table. “Running a ranch is a lot of work, Kev. Not every day is a vacation.”

  Beth could have hugged him for that answer.

  “But there’s not a better job in the world,” Jake added. “Other than riding bulls. And there’s no state prettier than Wyoming.”

  If only he had stopped while he was ahead.

  They walked back onto the porch, and Beth sat down in one of the rocking chairs. Jake stood by Kevin’s side near the railing.

  Kevin pointed to a long building. “That’s the bunkhouse. Right, Jake? I wish I could stay there with the cowboys tonight—”

  “The Trail Boss Cabin is perfectly fine,” Beth interrupted before Jake could even answer. She might as well nip that idea in the bud.

  When Wheelchair Rodeo started in a couple of days, he’d be moving into the bunkhouse with the other boys in the program, and that was soon enough. Besides, Beth still had mixed feelings about Kevin leaving her watchful eye.

  “How many cowboys work here, Mr. Dixon?” she asked, trying to be polite but secretly hoping that he’d disappear. Surely, there were other guests who needed his attention.

  “That depends. The door is always open to cowboys who are healing from their injuries, or those who need a place to stay for whatever reason. Mostly, they stop by for a few days for some of my mother’s pies or Cookie’s cooking. In exchange for room and board, they help out around the place.”

  “Even more come for the Gold Buckle Challenge. Right, Jake?”

  “That’s right, Kev. But they come for both rodeos. They like helping out with Wheelchair Rodeo maybe even more than they like riding in the Gold Buckle Challenge. Some of them bring their families and camp out in the upper pasture. Some just crash at the bunkhouse. It’s like a reunion.”

  “They wouldn’t come if it wasn’t for you, Jake,” Kevin said.

  “Maybe. That’s nice of you to say, Kev. So, how about a real tour?”

  “Cool! C’mon, Mom!”

  Kevin flew down the ramp before she even got out of the rocker. She was just going to remind him to be careful when Jake held out his hands to help her up.

  Without thinking, she put her hands into his. They were rough, callused. Hands that did physical work, ranch work, real work. Brad’s hands had always been soft and perfectly manicured—but then, Brad wasn’t a cowboy. He’d been a stockbroker.

  Although she was on her feet, she held on to him for a moment longer than necessary to take her measure of the man she would have to trust. The man who would be taking care of her son.

  Jake met her gaze with steady, unflinching eyes. Eyes that weren’t bloodshot like Brad’s had always been.

  “Is that the barn? Oh, wow! It’s the barn, Mom!” Kevin called.

  Realizing that she was holding on to Jake way too long, she dropped his hands. “Wait for us, Kevin!” she shouted back.

  Jake smiled. “I’ve never seen anyone so thrilled about a barn,” he said, as they walked down a cleared path.

  They stopped at the gate of the corral. Several horses walked over, most of them sniffing Kevin and Jake. Even to Beth’s untrained eye, the long-legged, satin-coated horses looked like beauties.

  “They know that I usually have a treat for them.” Jake dipped a hand in the pocket of his shirt and handed Kevin a piece of a carrot. “Hold it flat on your hand and don’t be scared when their big yellow teeth come at you.”

  “I’m not scared,” he said, but he had a white-knuckled grip on the arm of his wheelchair. His other hand was flat, his face a study in concentration.

  “They won’t hurt you,” Jake said. “Just reach out. Keep your hand flat.”

  Kevin did it, and when the horse gently took the carrot, Kevin let out a little squeal. “Cool!”

  Jake turned to Beth. “How about you?”

  Beth nodded, eager to try. She held out her hand and he placed a piece of carrot on it. The horses pushed closer, each nosing for the food. She picked out a horse who was more patient than the others and opened her hand.

  Jake moved behind her and put his hand under hers. “Keep your hand flat.”

  It was a harmless gesture, but she could feel the warmth of his chest on her back, could smell the scent of his spicy aftershave, the warm wisps of his breath on the side of her face.

  When the carrots were gone, Kevin turned to Jake. “Which horse is going to be mine?”

  “None of these. They’re not ready yet. But there’s a couple in the barn you might like.”

  He tugged back two enormous wooden doors. The smell of horses and hay drifted around them.

  Kevin gave a breathy “Oh, wow!” and wheeled into the barn.

  Beth inhaled. “This reminds me of when I was a kid and I lived in central New York—my parents used to take me to the state fair.”

  Jake looked at her with interest, waiting for her to continue.

  “I waited all summer for the fair. I couldn’t wait to go through the horse barns and look at all the beautiful horses. I’d pick one out and pretend it was mine. Then I’d watch the horse shows and cheer my horse to victory.”

  “Now I know where Kevin gets his love of horses.”

  Jake smiled, and she could see tiny lines at the corners of his eyes that were white against the dark tan of his face.

  She smiled back. “I’ve always liked horses.” She paused, thinking back. “When Kevin was little, several times during the day he’d hand me a book, crawl up on my lap and ask me to read to him. I read every book with a horse or a pony on the cover a hundred times over. I’d take him to horse shows and rodeos when they were nearby. He just loved going.”

  The memories that the barn smells triggered washed over her, all warm and comforting. Those were some of the best times of her life, just Kevin and her, and that’s the way she liked it.

  Kevin craned his neck as he wheeled down the cement walkway of the barn. He didn’t know where to look first. On both sides were stalls, and most of the horses hung their heads over the half-door. On each door was a wooden sign with the horse’s name in black print.

  “That one there is a beauty,” he said. “Wow! So is that one! And that one!”

  Jake was patient with Kevin. As they came to eac
h stall, Kevin had to pet the horse and call it by name.

  After a while, Beth caught Jake’s eye. “Can I speak with you, Mr. Dixon?”

  Nodding, he left Kevin petting a horse and walked over toward her.

  “About the horse—”

  Jake held a hand up. “I promise you, Kevin’s horse will be gentle. All the horses in this barn are hand-picked for Wheelchair Rodeo. I work with them myself. Don’t worry.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she said. “He’s not your son.”

  “No, but I’ll take care of him as if he were.”

  She met his gaze. His blue eyes were as cool and as refreshing as a spring day, and he truly seemed to care about Kevin.

  So then why couldn’t she let herself trust him completely?

  Because she had trusted her son to a man with a drinking problem before, and Kevin was almost killed. And the man had died.

  Jake glanced down the long row of horses and shouted, “You might like Cheyenne, Kev, or the black horse in stall three. Check them out.” Then he turned back to Beth and lowered his voice. “Look, I don’t know all of what you heard at the airport, but don’t pay any attention to it.”

  “I heard that you were drunk and hurt a man.”

  “I wasn’t drunk. I had a few beers, yes. I had some words with someone, and then suddenly we were in the middle of a free-for-all.” Jake sighed and looked away. After several seconds, his gaze returned to her. “Look, Wheelchair Rodeo begins the day after tomorrow, so if you’re having second thoughts about trusting me with Kevin, you’d better tell me now.”

  She met his direct gaze. “I’m having second thoughts.”

  “Fair enough.” He nodded. “Then take him out of the program.”

  “It would break his heart,” she said. “You’re his hero. He idolizes you.”

  “Lady, I’m no one’s hero. It’s all I can do these days to get up every morning.” He was speaking through gritted teeth. “And I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a drunk.”

  That was just what Brad had always said.

  Beth swallowed hard and glanced at Kevin to make sure he was out of hearing range. She knew she had angered Jake Dixon, but she had good reasons for not trusting him—or anyone, for that matter—with her son.

  Maybe she owed him an explanation. “His father was an alcoholic,” she said. “He picked Kevin up at a friend’s birthday party. Brad was drunk and he drove his car into the cement of a bridge. Brad died and Kevin lived. After four operations in two years, Kevin’s still in a wheelchair. The doctors don’t understand why.”

  “Oh…shoot…” He took off his hat and raked his fingers through his hair, then plopped the hat back on his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, watching Kevin. “But now at least I understand why you hate drinking.” He paused. “He’ll never get out of the chair?”

  He touched her arm when she didn’t answer right away. It was an unexpected, comforting gesture. The look on his face was concerned and sympathetic. She wondered yet again if she was judging him too harshly.

  She took a deep breath and jumped in. “Kevin’s last operation was supposed to work, but obviously it didn’t.” When the tears started to sting her eyes, she blinked them back. “He’s idolized you since he first met you at the Tucson rodeo. He was five years old. You paid attention to him, listened to him, and you gave him a red bandana. He’s never forgotten that, and one of the things that kept him going was his dream of coming to the Wheelchair Rodeo.”

  “I’m honored, but—”

  Beth held up an index finger. “Oh, there’s much more. Ever since then, he’s watched bull riding constantly on TV, looking for you, cheering you on. When he was in the hospital, he fought to stay awake to watch you being interviewed on Letterman during one of his hospital stays. Your fan club sent him a special autographed picture that has never left his sight. He wears your clothes. His room is covered in pictures of Jake Dixon. He thinks you’re the greatest thing since school recess.”

  Jake met her gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You can promise me that you’ll be the hero he thinks you are.”

  Jake stared down at the floor. “I can’t promise that.”

  He shifted from foot to foot, and Beth sensed that he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

  “I’m just a cowboy. That’s all. I can guarantee you that he’ll have a good time at the ranch. I can teach him how to ride and rope and cook over a campfire, but if he needs a hero, he’d best look up to Jimmy Watley or Clint Scully or another cowboy.”

  “But it’s you he idolizes.”

  He shook his head as if he were shaking her words out, and walked toward Kevin, his boots making dull clicking noises on the cement.

  She trailed behind him. Nobody’s hero? Kevin was only one little boy among thousands who worshiped the ground he walked on. He was the primary reason why Kevin worked so hard to get better. “Jake Dixon is tough, Mom. I am, too,” Kevin had told her.

  She owed Jake Dixon. She owed him a lot.

  “Have you picked one out yet?” Jake said to Kevin. “Remember, you have to take care of the horse all week. That means brushing, feeding, watering and taking care of the tack. Got it?”

  “I can do it, Jake. I promise!”

  “Then who will it be, Kev?” Jake asked.

  “Killer.”

  Beth closed the distance between them. “Killer?”

  “Actually, his full name is Killer Bee, but we call him Killer for short,” Jake explained.

  That didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t want Kevin riding on a horse named Killer, even if it was a cute black horse with soulful black eyes.

  She would have called him Thunder, like another fictional horse of her childhood she’d discovered in a library book. Her Thunder was a shiny, black horse with four white socks. She read the book over and over again until she just about had it memorized.

  She looked over the stall door to see if Killer Bee had white socks. He didn’t, but he was still a beautiful horse.

  Kevin fidgeted in his chair. “Will you take him out of the stall, Jake? I want to look at him all over.”

  “Okay, Kev.”

  With Kevin on the edge of his seat, Jake led Killer Bee out of his stall.

  The horse sniffed at Kevin’s shirt as the boy giggled and reached out to pet him. “Just think,” said Kevin, “he’s mine for a week.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow, met Beth’s eyes and waited for her reply.

  She took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldn’t regret her decision. Kevin’s doctor felt that the horseback riding would be good for him, would strengthen his muscles. That would be wonderful for his broken body, but she knew that the Gold Buckle Ranch experience would do even more for Kevin’s morale.

  “Yes, Kevin. He’s yours while we are here. Make sure you listen to Mr. Dixon—Jake—and learn how to take care of him.”

  Jake gave a slight nod, obviously pleased with her decision. “Well, buckaroo, I’d best get you and your mom back to the Trail Boss Cabin so you both can get some rest.”

  He put Killer back into his stall. “If I have time tomorrow, we can get a riding lesson in and maybe even a roping lesson. You can get a jump on the rest of the kids.”

  “Cool. I brought my official Jake Dixon rope with me.”

  Jake shrugged. “Huh?”

  “I bought it from your official Web site for Kevin’s ninth birthday,” Beth explained.

  “Oh. I forgot about that. My fan club runs the Web site,” he mumbled, then said to Kevin, “I’m sure it’s a good rope if you bought it from my official Web site.” He grinned.

  “Well, it’s time we went to bed, cowboy,” Beth said. “It’s been a long day.”

  Jake did a double-take, raised an eyebrow and pushed back his hat with a thumb. His eyes twinkled in amusement.

  “Kevin,” she clarified, grinning in spite of herself. It was hard not to like Jake. “It’s time for bed, Kevin.”


  Chapter Three

  Beth woke to the scent of pine. A breeze lightly tossed the lace curtains. Sunlight flickered on her face, and she smiled. What a nice way to wake up. But why wake up yet? She turned over, scrunched the pillow to the perfect shape under her head and closed her eyes again.

  “That’s awesome, Jake.”

  Jake. That name again. She had dreamed of the tall, lean cowboy with the lazy grin and the sexy blue eyes all night. Now she woke up to his name drifting on the breeze.

  She even remembered saying the same phrase— “That’s awesome, Jake”—in her dream when he…when they…

  “Totally cool, Jake.”

  She had never said that in her dream.

  “Kevin?” She shot up in bed. “Kevin?”

  “Out here, Mom!”

  “Where?” She tore out of the bedroom, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She ran into his bedroom, but he wasn’t there. She checked the bathroom. “Kevin?” Barely breathing, she raced to the door and tore it open.

  “Hi, Mom!”

  Her son was astride a big black horse—Killer Bee. He was belted into some kind of special saddle with a high back and sides. Jake Dixon was standing next to him with reins in his hand. They both were petting the horse and smiling like they hadn’t a care in the world.

  When she caught something extra in Jake’s grin, she realized that she was barefoot on the front porch of the Trail Boss Cabin in her red satin nightgown with spaghetti straps, a buy-one-get-one-free special from WalMart.

  She crossed her arms in front of her, sure that Jake could see how cold she actually was.

  “Kevin,” she began in her scolding-mom tone.

  “Aw…don’t be mad at me. I got up early and saw Jake at the corral. We had breakfast in the bunkhouse with all the cowboys. It was so cool, Mom. Joe Watley was there. And Gilbert. And Ty Watson, T.J., and Trace and…”

  She held her hand up to stop him from naming every cowboy in the bunkhouse. “You should have asked me, Kevin. Also, I don’t think you should be taking up so much of Mr. Dixon’s time.”