The Trouble with Texas Cowboys (Burnt Boot, Texas #2)(15)

“Daisies. They outlast roses, and they’re tough little flowers. If you tell him…”

Sawyer held up a palm defensively. “I understand. Say no more. Want my advice?”

“Hell, no! But I expect you are going to give it to me anyway.”

“Maybe you’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with them, like I did,” he said. “It could be that one or both of them are really decent cowboys. Go with an open mind. Don’t think about their last name or where they live or how much money they have or how big their ranch is or even the damned feud. Just spend a little time getting to know them as the men they are, and then make up your mind which one or both or neither that you might like to see again.”

She pinched her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “It’s going to be a long Sunday.”

“Be nice if it was only one day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Darlin’, you are the princess of the Fiddle Creek kingdom. Both of the kingdoms beside yours would benefit greatly from the water rights on your land, so they’re going to do their damnedest to get one of their knights in shining armor, or maybe its knight in shining pickup truck, to win your favor.”

“Aunt Gladys has always said that neither one of those families will ever get Fiddle Creek. Maybe that’s all I need to put out on the rumor vine, and they’ll leave me alone.”

Sawyer chuckled.

She sat up with a start and frowned at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You looked in the mirror lately?”

“Of course.”

“Enough said, then.”

“You best start explaining, or I’m throwing that pie out in the yard,” she said.

“I’m repeating myself, and I won’t do it again, so listen to me, Jill Cleary. Fiddle Creek would be a nice trophy. Whoever wins gets a woman with ranching experience that looks like a trophy wife. Quaid is going to try to woo you with his good deeds. Tyrell is going to smother you with fun and flowers. The feud is officially blown wide open right now, so everything is fair. Each side wants to win, and you are the prize. It won’t be so bad, darlin’. You’ll have a big ranch, a cowboy, and a hell of a big diamond engagement ring whichever way you go.”

“I’ll say no after tomorrow. And what about you? You’ve also got two after you,” she said.

“Quaid and Tyrell are the knights, but the whole castle on both sides, including women, kids, and even the grandmothers are probably already plotting. I’ve got a feeling I’m part of that plot. If they can put me out of the picture, that’s one less cowboy in your world. I think I already said that, didn’t I?” Sawyer said.

“How do you know so much about it?”

“You can’t be in Burnt Boot two hours without hearing feud stories.”

“Dammit!” She slapped the table hard enough that it reverberated right though his boots.

“Now you are beginning to understand. You ready to go home now?”

“I’m ready to go back to Brownsville and get a job making tacos in a fast food joint,” she said.

“Ain’t neither one of us the kind to run from problems.” He stood up, wiped the table one more time, and set his chair on it. “Polly didn’t mention mopping, did she?”

“Just a quick damp mop if there’s spills, but I don’t see any tonight. She’s got a cleaning lady that does that on Sunday when the place is closed. She takes care of the deep cleaning. All we have to do is sweep up every night.”

“I’ll put the broom up and get our coats,” Sawyer said.

*

It was almost midnight when they reached the bunkhouse, and Jill melted into the corner of the sofa. “Just ten minutes, and then I’m going to take you up on borrowing your shower before I go to bed.”

Sawyer went straight to the kitchen. There was only enough leftover coffee for one cup, so he popped it into the microwave. Then he cut a piece of pie big enough for two people and put it on one plate, along with two small pieces of chocolate cake. When the microwave dinged, he picked up the plate with one hand and the coffee with the other.

“We’re sharing. I couldn’t carry three things.” He sat down right next to her and handed her the coffee.

She put it on the end table and picked up one of the forks, ate two bites of pie, and shook her head. “I’m too tired to eat.”

“I could feed it to you.”

“I’m too tired to chew.”

“Then you are on your own. I’m not doing that for you,” he said.

She laid her head over on his shoulder and stretched out her legs until her feet were resting on the well-used coffee table. “Looks like lots of boots have been propped up on that table.”

You are getting mighty friendly there, her inner voice chided. You never snuggled up to a man this quick before. Better watch out, or you’ll be making another mistake.

Hush, she argued. We’re just friends, and he already gave me a foot massage. This is resting, not flirting.

“Yep, it does look like lots of cowboys have come through this bunkhouse and done just what you’re doing. This pie is amazing. I’ll just eat all of it, since you are too tired to eat,” he said.

“Enjoy. I could sleep right here all night.”