Once Upon a Cowboy (17 page)

He looked at the stable, where the kids were gathering, then back at Jess’s door. Fine. He’d leave her alone for now, but he couldn’t let this go on. He had to know what was happening. He had to know if he could help fix it.

He sighed as he clapped his hat back on his head and
worked up the smile the kids were expecting. Right now, he had to figure out how to get ten kids out to the south meadow and back safely.

Later, he’d figure out Jess.

Two hours later, Cole had just finished helping the kids find marshmallow sticks in a clearing when he heard Sky Dancer’s telltale whinny from somewhere over the rise to his east. He watched the skyline, and a minute later, Jess and the horse crested the ridge, pausing at the top.

She cantered toward him, and he felt himself mesmerized by the sight of her jet-black hair flowing behind
her. Christ, she was like an old West movie heroine, with her just-worn-enough boots and her soft plaid shirt and those damn jeans that hugged every damn curve just right.

He swallowed hard as she pulled up, and he forced his eyes to hers, rather than let them skim all the other parts of her that he’d love to touch. Her eyes were red around the edges, like she’d kicked up some serious dust.
Or had she been crying?

If she
had
been crying, he could guarantee she wouldn’t want
him
to know that, so he kept his voice light. “Hey, cowgirl. What brings you to these parts?”

She reached into the saddlebag on her right side, coming up with a baggie of chocolate bars. “Ma said you forgot the chocolate.”

“You forgot the
chocolate
?” Ella’s eyes went wide. “How were we going to make s’mores
without
chocolate
?”

“I didn’t forget the chocolate.” No way had he forgotten the chocolate. He’d done that once, earlier in the summer, and the resulting outcry had trained him well enough to never let it happen again.

He pointed toward the log circle that surrounded the fire pit. “Kids, go check those bags over by the logs. I’ll bet you a dollar there’s chocolate in there.”

Like a herd of
goats, the kids moved toward Cole’s bags. He looked back up at Jess. “I didn’t forget the chocolate, but I appreciate you bringing this out to me.”

Jess shrugged. “I needed a ride, anyway. It was a good excuse.”

“You want to stay? Join us for s’mores?”

She smiled, and though he could see warmth in it, he also sensed a veil coming over her face as she watched the kids. “Looks like you have things
under control here.”

Just then, one of them yelled, “There’s no chocolate! You
did
forget the chocolate!”

Cole turned. “Not possible. I packed it myself just before we left. I swear—”

Then he turned to Jess, and his eyes narrowed. Ma had come down just before he’d left with the kids, wandering through the corral under the pretense she was checking saddles and—quote—helping.

“Ma took that chocolate
right out of my saddlebag, didn’t she?”

Jess’s eyes widened. “I know nothing! Truly. She just came down to my cabin with this bag and asked if maybe I could bring it out to you. Said you’d have a riot on your hands if the kids discovered you’d done the campfire ride without chocolate.”

Cole shook his head. “You know what I think? I think everyone on this damn ranch is playing matchmaker, and
now Ma’s in the mix.”

He saw a series of emotions skitter quickly over her face, but she tried to cover them.

He put a hand on Sky Dancer. “You’d better stay. If you go back too early, Ma’s going to think she’s failed. We wouldn’t want her to feel bad, right?”

“Um, no?”

“Good answer. Come on. Have a s’more.”

Jess shivered. “Okay. I’ll stay. Just for a bit.”

A little while later, Jess
sat on a log by the little campfire, watching the kids roast their marshmallows as Cole told them stories about the Native Americans who’d inhabited this land long before his own ancestors had moved to Montana. The kids were mesmerized as he told the tale of two wolves in a long-standing battle for control of their pack.

So was Jess,
she realized.

It wasn’t just the story that had her entranced,
though. It was the way the kids
watched
him tell it—their eyes wide, their mouths open, their knees coming up to protect them at the scary parts.

He was sitting next to her on the log, and as he told the story, she could feel his deep voice resonate through her entire body. She tried not to think about the effect that same voice had just when he whispered, but sitting this close to him, feeling
the heat from his body, it was impossible not to.

She closed her eyes, letting the soft vibrations calm her, listening to the ebb and flow of his words as he gave life to an ancient tale. She could sit here for hours, she realized. She could just sit here and listen to that voice, picture the battle of wills, almost feel the coarse hair of the wolves as they snarled and yipped.

When he said
The End,
there was a collective groan. She opened her eyes and realized that while she’d had them closed, both five-year-olds, Paige and Ella, had nabbed spots at Cole’s feet, and the other kids had shoved each other closer and closer during the story, hanging on his every word.

“But that’s the end! There’s no more to the story!” He laughed at their consternation.

“Make up another one!” Jackson,
an eight-year-old with a mop of hair falling over his eyes, pleaded with his hands.

“Yes!” Paige nodded. “Tell us another one!”

Ella looked up with her best puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

Cole looked at his watch. “Don’t you guys want to make some more s’mores?”

“Story first!”

“Okay, okay. One more story.” He smiled at Jess over Ella’s head. “But then we have to eat all of this chocolate!”

“Yay!”

“What kind of story should I do this time, Paige?”

“A prince and princess one.”

Jess laughed quietly. This should be good.

“Hmm.” Cole poked at the fire with a long stick. “A prince and a princess, hmm? Can it be a cowboy prince?”

“Sure!”

“Okay. Once upon a time there was a cowboy prince.”

“Was his name Cole?” Ella giggled.

“Sure. We’ll call him Cole. So once upon a time there was a cowboy
prince named Cole, and he was very, very handsome.”

Jess rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile.

“He had lots and lots of horses, but alas, no princess. It was really quite tragic.” He looked around at the kids, who looked like they weren’t quite sure where the story was headed. “Lucky for him, there was a princess in a faraway land called…Bostonia. She was very, very beautiful, but she
had terrible taste in music.”

Jess laughed out loud.

“So the prince decided to have a dance. He invited all of the townspeople and all of the nearby princesses, but saved his most special invitation for the faraway princess. She, of course, had been waiting in her tower, just hoping for this invitation.”

“Of course,” Jess murmured. “Because she was ever so lonely without a handsome cowboy prince.”

“Hey.” He elbowed her. “My story.

“See, now, this princess never went to any balls because she had a terrible secret and didn’t want anyone to know what it was.” Cole paused for dramatic effect, and Jess felt her eyes go wide. “But she was so entranced by the prince that she was willing to risk him finding out.”

“What was the secret?” Jackson’s eyes matched hers.

“Well, it turns out that though
she was very, very beautiful, she had been born with two left feet. No matter how hard she tried, the poor girl just could not dance.”

Jess smiled in relief.

“But since the princess very much liked the prince, she gladly accepted his invitation, and she prepared her best dress”—he looked at Jess—“
and
her best shoes for the ball. Then she set out in her carriage, all the while wishing she had
her very own horse to ride anytime she wanted.” Another sidelong look at Jess.

“But then something terrible happened.” The kids leaned closer. “On the way to the ball, the princess’s carriage was attacked by an evil dragon. He was huge and ugly and breathed fire that smelled like spoiled fish.”

“Eww.”

“But lucky for her, Prince Cole was riding along the road, and he scooped the princess out
of her carriage and onto the back of his giant horse. He took her to the ball and they danced all night.”

Ella poked his knee. “How did she dance if she had two left feet?”

“Oh, right. Forgot about the feet. She had a—a fairy godmother! Right! A fairy godmother who was an excellent cook, which was fortunate, because the princess loved to eat. Especially lasagna. See, she actually
could
dance.
She just had to learn to believe it.”

Jess caught Cole’s eye and shook her head, smiling.

“So the princess ate the magical lasagna, thinking it would fix her foot, and
then
they danced all night.”

“Boring.” Jackson rolled his eyes.

Cole leaned forward. “I wasn’t done yet. Then the dragon attacked the ball, but the prince saved the princess
again,
and they rode away on his horse. They went
to a magical waterfall, and the prince asked the princess to move to his kingdom for the summer, which had lots of horses, good dancing music, and much better weather. The end.”

“But did she say yes?” Ella asked.

Cole paused, looking at Jess, eyebrows raised. “That’s part two of the story, Ella. We’ll have to wait and see how it works out.” He stood up and grabbed the marshmallow sticks. “Okay,
who wants s’mores?”

For the next twenty minutes, Jess scrambled to open up packages and break up crackers and chocolate as the kids lined up with their goopy marshmallows and Cole did his best to reload their sticks and keep both kids
and
marshmallows from falling into the fire.

For the first time in hours, she was too busy to think about the letters waiting in her cabin, and she was grateful
for the distraction. She couldn’t think of a better way to keep thoughts of Smugglers’ Gully at bay.

When the kids had all eaten their requisite s’mores and were out in the field playing a game of capture the flag, Cole sat back down next to her.

He bumped her shoulder softly with his. “Hey, princess.”

She smiled. “I do not have two left feet. Or hideous taste in music. Just saying.”

“Good
to know.” He laughed. “Are you insinuating I was telling a story about
you
?”

“The princess from Bostonia? I know. It’s a stretch.”

“Pure coincidence. I’ve been telling princess-of-Bostonia stories for—a long time.” He looked away, toward the kids, like he was embarrassed that admission had just left his mouth.

Cole looked at her, then quickly away. “I’m glad Ma stole my chocolate.”

“Me, too.”
She laughed quietly. “I can’t believe these kids are heading home in the morning. I feel like I just met them.”

“I know. Doesn’t take long to get attached, does it? I’ll be sad to see them go, but we’ll be so busy with the wedding tomorrow that I’m afraid we’ll be too busy to notice they’re gone.”

“You guys weren’t kidding when you said you’d work right up until the last minute.”

“Well, we
can’t really afford to have empty cabins, so…here we are.”

“It was really nice of you guys to let Daniel and Hayley have their wedding here for free.”

Cole poked at the fire, spreading out the logs so they’d presumably start to fizzle out. “Daniel and Hayley are family.”

“Well, they’re not
really
fam—”

“They are.” Cole looked her directly in the eye. “You all are.”

Jess held his gaze for
a moment, but then had to look away. The intensity was almost frightening, but not in any way she’d expected. A warmth started in her chest and ebbed outward, feeling like she imagined it might feel to float in a Caribbean cove with white sands under her and a warm breeze tickling her toes.

“So you’d totally slay dragons for us? And all that?”

“I’d be more likely to have to save you from a bear
or a moose, but yeah.” He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “If a dragon shows up, put me on speed dial.”

She laughed. “Looks like Marcy’s the most dangerous thing around here, but
you’re
the one who needs saving there.”

“True. Okay, my next story will be about the princess who saves the prince.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” He slid his arm off her shoulders and poked at the fire again.
“Hey—what are you doing before the rehearsal dinner?”

“I was thinking about making an appointment with my claw-foot tub. Why?”

He grimaced, but quickly wiped the pained expression off from his face. “Ma assigned me wings duty since she ran out of oven space. Just wondered if maybe you’d want to come down to my cabin for a little while and help me cook.”

“Cook?” She tipped her head. Oh boy.
In her current state, being alone with Cole in his cabin was just about the worst idea she could think of. She’d either end up in his arms, or she’d end up asking him to hide her in the forest so Smugglers’ Gully could never catch up with her.

“Cook.” He had a half-smile. “Unless you have better ideas.”

“No.”

The word came out in a fast staccato that had him backing up a couple of inches. His
smile faltered, and Jess immediately felt horrible.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out. Sorry.”

“Sure.” He stood up, started gathering wrappers into a small trash bag.

She took a deep breath. “I’d love to come help you cook wings. I would.”

“But?”

“But—nothing. I’ll be there.”

He looked at her then, hard and intense, but also mystified. Then he turned and poked at the fire again, pouring
water on the embers that were left. “Jess, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know when it happened. And I don’t know when or if you’ll ever tell me. But whatever
did
happen—or hell, whatever
is
happening, if that’s what it is—I wish there was some way to convince you that you can trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

He put up a hand. “To a point, you do. And that’s great. But there’s this invisible
line, and I keep crossing it, and I keep regretting it.” He shook his head. “But I don’t know where it is, and I don’t know
why
.”

Oh, no.
Jess’s stomach hurt. On top of everything else, now she’d hurt Cole, without even meaning to. She’d spent the week—heck, she’d spent the past two
years
—falling head over heels for him, and what he was taking away from that was a loud, clear
go-away
message.