Always a Cowboy (19 page)

Luce said instantly and ridiculously, “I'll go with you.”

“Like hell you will.” Drake had apparently needed a minute to collect himself; he stalked back up onto the porch. “Luce, you're barefoot and wearing a dress, and even if you were wearing a suit of armor, I don't want to risk you getting hurt. Stay here and help Jax. Red and I will go out. Mom, can you get the big flashlights, please? I'm going to get my rifle as well and wake up Slate and Mace.”

Blythe went inside with alacrity and Luce might have resented his commanding tone, but she didn't know what to do and Drake was probably right. She'd be more of a hindrance than anything. She did say, “I want to help.”

“Then do it like I said, by staying put. I have enough problems at the moment. I'm worried about how this animal is acting. Harold and Violet wouldn't have tangled with it if they hadn't felt there was a threat. If Red found Harold a few feet from the porch, the animal came right up to the house. Not normal mountain lion behavior. And listen to me, if you think you're going anywhere out there alone after what happened tonight, you're dead wrong. My mother isn't setting foot outside, either, not by herself, until we get this situation taken care of.”

Normally, she would've argued, but she was starting to think he was right. He disappeared inside and came back a couple of minutes later with his brothers. He'd thrown on a clean shirt and washed his face. All three of them had rifles.

Slater and Mace swore out loud when they saw Harold, their faces grim.

Luce was an animal lover through and through, and she didn't want them to kill the lion, but she also knew they needed to stay safe. She knew Drake well enough now to know he didn't want to kill it, either, but his mother was a slender woman who was also an avid gardener. She was often outside, alone, tending to the flowers and the herbs she planted every spring for Harry, and Luce was truly getting an education about the realities of ranch life.

Jax Locke was still working on the dog and, without looking up, said, “Priority one is finding Violet, but be careful. That cat did not get off uninjured. Not all this blood is Harold's. I'd usually trust this dog not to bite me, but I sedated him, anyway. I don't have to tell you that injured animals are hard to handle. And that also means your already dangerous friend out there isn't going to be happy.”

“I'm pretty unhappy myself.” Drake jerked his head toward the stables. “Let's go.”

At that moment Luce jumped up and caught his arm, just before his foot hit the top step. “Hold on. Did you hear that? Listen! I swear I heard a dog bark.”

They all went still, and just when she thought she'd delayed them for nothing, it came again, faint in the distance. Not a coyote or a wolf, but a dog. Even after her short time in Wyoming, she knew the difference.

“That's her bark. I'd know it anywhere. Thanks.” Drake gave Luce's hand a grateful squeeze before all three Carson brothers ran down the steps, hell-bent for leather, as Red would say.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“N
ORTH
.”

Drake agreed with Slater and had already turned Starburst in that direction. “Yep.”

He wished there was still that romantic full moon, but it was waning and the night was pretty damned dark. At least they could follow the sound, which meant they didn't need to search every inch of terrain. If she could bark, Violet was alive. He was damned fond of that dog, so he wanted to keep her that way. Harold was bigger, so he probably went after the cat first, but Violet was as quick as lightning.

He felt for her. If the mountain lion had hurt Harold, she'd go after it. That was the only reason she'd ever leave him.

They rode by the west pasture, then slowed to see if they could hear her She wasn't much of a barker unless it was necessary, so when it came again, he figured it
was
necessary.

“She's got it cornered somewhere,” Red said with conviction. “There's nothing like hunting a big cat in the dark to let a man know if he's got fire or just smoke in his britches.”

Drake might have laughed if he wasn't so worried. He'd have to use that one on Luce someday. She'd probably accuse him of freestyling again.

“I know that dog,” Drake muttered. “She's fighting mad. Tomorrow I'm calling Ed Gunnerson. He's handled relocating lions before. Man, between this critter and the wild horses, you'd think we'd issued some sort of open invitation to ruin my peace of mind.”

“But those horses also brought you a gift, son,” Red said in a dry tone. “Unless I'm mistaken, you weren't exactly alone when I knocked on your bedroom door.”

Slater murmured, “Why does that not surprise me?”

“We're getting married.” Drake was spared having to say anything else, since Violet barked again and this time it was close enough that Mace unsheathed his rifle.

His younger brother said pragmatically, “I'm the best shot. You all manage the situation and I'll be ready if it goes south. Not anxious to do it, but I will.”

He was right. Mace was the most accurate marksman Drake had ever seen. It just came naturally, like brewing up those concoctions of his. He had a very focused mind.

“Deal,” Drake said. Violet always obeyed him, but on the other hand, this was a different scenario. Normally, he'd just whistle for her. But he was worried that if she turned around to come to him, the injured lion might attack her. At least Mace was likely to hit the target effectively—if it had to happen, which none of them wanted. At one time Mace had contemplated the military to become a sniper or law enforcement for a SWAT team position. He was really that good.

When they finally found the dog, she had, as they'd predicted, treed the big cat. Listening to Violet's ominous growling, Drake wasn't surprised that the mountain lion stayed put on a large branch about twenty feet up, although it was snarling right back.

“Violet, come.” He could tell she didn't want to, but she trotted toward him with no apparent injuries except a long bloody scratch on the top of her head. His heart twisted at the sight of her, and at the same time, relief washed over him like a flood tide.

“What do you want me to do?” Mace asked. All three of Drake's companions looked at him expectantly. His ranch to run, so his problem to solve. Just like the wild horses. His brother added, “I don't have a clear shot.”

“I'm reluctant to kill it,” Drake replied.

Even with the powerful flashlights, the animal was difficult to see because of the foliage, but they knew where it was.

“He's going to continue to be a pain in your backside,” Red pointed out, sitting his horse with the ease of an old cowboy. “I understand your position—that critter up there is just doing what comes naturally—but now's your chance.”

He was right. However, it
felt
wrong. The animal needed to go, but relocation seemed a much better option.

“Let me talk to Ed,” he said finally. “He's handled this kind of thing before. After what this cat did to Harold, you'd think I'd be inclined to tell Mace to give it a try. But if we can handle it another way, I'd prefer that.”

“Your call.” Slater sounded as calm as usual. “I don't want to have to kill it, either. Although I'm going to walk my pregnant wife out to her car every morning until we fix this. After that run-in with the dogs, I doubt the cat will come near the house again, but who knows. I wouldn't have expected it to in the first place.”

“Yeah, who knows what it'll do.” Red thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “Had a friend with a cabin on Big Pine Lake and he said he woke one morning and there was the biggest bear he'd ever seen looking in the window, eyeing him up. About gave that die-hard ole cowboy a heart attack, and I can tell you, he doesn't scare easy.”

Red had a story for every occasion, including, of course, this one. Drake said wryly, “I hope he's still alive and well.” When Red grinned, giving him a thumbs-up, Drake added, “Good to know. I plan to emerge from all of this in the same condition. Let's just take Violet home. I'm not sure if Jax needs to stitch that wound on her head or not.”

Red nodded. “Looks like she could maybe heal on her own, but if we aren't going to end the battle right now, we might as well go home, boss. Hey, girl, let's go see Harold.”

Violet followed, wagging her tail, and the rest of them fell into line.

Red always called him
boss
, but Drake had to acknowledge that they had a careful balance of wisdom and authority between them, and he rarely ignored what Red had to say. Part of it was that he knew Red was as worried about both dogs as he was. Red was also a lot more sentimental than he let on.

When they got to the house, every single woman in residence was hovering over the injured dog. Harry wore an impossibly old bathrobe, while his mother, Grace and Luce were all fully dressed. Harold rested in a corner of the veranda, and Jax Locke immediately abandoned a cup of coffee, got to his feet and crossed the room to examine Violet. “Thank God you found her,” he said. “Come here, girl—let's have a look at you.”

The dog moved slowly as she approached Jax, but she seemed sound. In the end, all Violet needed was first aid, a shot of antibiotics and some loving attention.

Drake took Luce's elbow as everyone else went back into the house. As she looked at him questioningly, he pulled her close and said, “Get some rest. I'm going to grab a sleeping bag and stay out here on the porch with Harold and Violet. In his condition, Harold can't make it to my room and I don't want to move him. You can go back to my bed or use yours.”

“I'm sleeping out here with you.”

How did he know she'd say that? He had a feeling he was going to suffer from acute exasperation—and crazy, grateful love—for the rest of his life. “Why would you want to do that, Luce? Isn't a comfortable bed more appealing than a hard floor?”

She ran her fingers lightly through his hair. “I'd just lie awake and worry about you and the dogs, but if you were right next to me, I might be able to get some shut-eye, buckaroo.”

For a moment, Drake hesitated, torn between wanting Luce beside him and wanting her to be safe inside the house. He didn't think the cat would be back tonight—or ever, for that matter—and if it did show up again, Violet would let him know. His rifle was within easy reach, too.

He could protect Luce—and the dogs—if he had to.

Anyway, it was a given that the determined Ms. Hale would do as she damned well pleased, regardless of what he said.

He was sure of one thing—come hell or high water, he wasn't leaving Harold.

So he shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

* * *

I'm camping out on the porch of a Western mansion with a handsome cowboy and a dog who was mauled by a mountain lion.

L
UCE
SENT
THE
TEXT
to Beth's phone, then grabbed a pillow from her bed. That message would have her sister calling her back first thing in the morning, if not before. Beth was the queen of tantalizing texts such as:
At mall and hoping I don't get arrested for murder.

The explanation for that one turned out to be about a purse she'd ordered, a hard-to-find item in a “positively delicious” color. When Beth went to pick up her bag, she discovered that a clerk at the expensive boutique had accidentally sold it to someone else. In the end, she bought the same purse—in black—at a discount store. Beth might have loved the original purse, but she was nothing if not practical.

Introducing Drake to her family was going to be interesting. His down-to-earth, sensible approach to life was not how she'd grown up, that was for sure. However... Blythe and her mother were lifelong friends, and Blythe had certainly married, by all accounts, a true Wyoming cowboy. She'd left California, where her wealthy family was as close to royalty as anybody could get, and settled into her new life. Luce had met Drake's sophisticated grandfather a couple of times. She highly doubted he could—or would—saddle up a horse and go after a mountain lion to save a dog.

Drake had laid out two sleeping bags on the porch floor. He was already half-asleep and she was tired, too, so she crawled into hers. The events of the evening piled up in her mind.

“Hmm,” he said, draping one arm over her. “We aren't likely to forget
this
night.”

Violet, lying next to Harold in his makeshift bed, lifted her head at the sound of Drake's voice. Luce replied, “I agree with that.”

“We could have killed it.” His face was shadowed and he looked weary. “I opted not to do it. I think we have a young rogue cougar that's just discovered a convenient food source. A lot of ranchers have had this problem.”

“Some take the low road.”

“Who could blame them? All of us considered bringing down the cat. One shot and it would be over, problem solved. Fact is, there are
some people
I wouldn't mind wiping off the face of the earth, but I'm more tolerant of animals. Most people know when they're committing a crime.”

That pro-animal attitude of his was part of the reason she'd fallen for him. “I support that decision.”

He spoke quietly enough not to disturb Harold, who was still sleeping off the sedative. “We're not going to be that couple with twelve dogs and fourteen cats, are we?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It's too heartbreaking to lose one. How's he doing, anyway?”

“Harold? Violet will tell me if there's something wrong. He's a ranch dog. He's been hurt before. Not like this, of course, but he's had his share of injuries. Jax is a very good vet, and he wouldn't have left if he was worried. We got lucky when he moved to Mustang Creek. I trust him.”

She did, too. Dr. Locke was obviously competent and empathetic, but forthright. It was heart-wrenching to see Violet standing guard over her injured sibling, but also heartwarming. Luce understood why Drake had decided to sleep outside, because Violet would be torn between her loyalty to him and her need to protect Harold. This way was much easier. It made sense for his dogs—and that was important to Drake.

Luce was surprisingly comfortable in her sleeping bag. The night sounds were soothing, the stars twinkled and the air smelled fresh and clean. While Drake might get a few hours of rest, she doubted he'd actually sleep.

On the other hand, she was exhausted. “Hmm, tell me a bedtime story.”

His laugh was muffled. “What?”

He looked all cowboy, with his mussed-up blond hair and his arms now linked behind his head. Getting a pillow obviously hadn't even occurred to him.

“You know,” she murmured, “the kind of story that helps kids doze off. I'm so tired I'm not sure I can sleep. I need a story.”

“If you're looking for
The Princess and the Pea
, I'm afraid I don't really remember that one.”

At least she'd coaxed a smile out of him. “Just make something up.”

“You do realize you're pretty high maintenance.”

“Not compared to my sister. Have a beer with my brother-in-law and see if he doesn't agree. Come on now, you can invent some yarn. You know Red, for heaven's sake. Has he taught you nothing?”

“I believe he told me when I was about fourteen to steer clear of women because they're a pain in the ass.”

Luce jabbed his shoulder. “I didn't notice you feeling that way earlier this evening.”

He clasped her hand and kissed each finger in turn. “I don't feel that way now, either. Nice of you to keep me company. Story? Okay, I'll give it a try. Let's see. Once upon a time—”

“You'll have to do better than that, Carson. Not very original.” She liked being close to him, even though they were in separate sleeping bags. He grinned. “Hey, give me a chance. I've had an eventful evening. Okay, I'll start over, since you have such exacting standards. How about... Once, out on the range, there was this innocent, unsuspecting cowboy, minding his own damn business.”

She couldn't help commenting, although she really was dozing off. “A good start,” she mumbled, “but if you're referring to yourself, I don't think
innocent
applies.”

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” His thumb stroked her wrist.

“I'm on the edge of my sleeping bag.” And snuggled in with her comfy pillow and Drake right next to her. He wasn't the only one who'd had an eventful evening.

“I'm going to ignore that comment. Anyway, this extraordinarily good-looking and talented cowpoke ran afoul of a willful woman—and all hell broke loose.”

Luce made a sound that could be described as a snort. “I think
extraordinarily
is a bit over the top. However, I might buy
noticeably
.”

He went blithely on. “She seduced him with her hair. Sort of like that Rapunzel girl who lived in the tower. You know the one I'm talking about?”