A Cowboy's Charm Read online

  “That’s sound advice,” Quinn said. “All three of my boys took that course before they rode my bike.”

  Cody shrugged. “It was just an idea. Faith would likely agree with both of you and I wouldn’t do it without telling her.”

  “And that’s why I sleep better at night,” Kendra said. “You might not always listen to me, but you’ll listen to her and for that I’m extremely thankful.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Are you two ready to move that motorcycle into the barn? The cardboard’s in place so I decided to come fetch you.”

  Quinn adjusted the fit of his hat. “Let’s do it.”

  Kendra headed out but Cody hung back and turned to Quinn. “Thanks.”

  “You bet.”

  “Gentlemen?” Kendra called out as she stood on the path grinning, hands on her hips. “Are we doing this or lollygagging?”

  “We’re on our way.” Quinn couldn’t predict what the future would hold for him and Kendra, but unless he could get along with her sons, there was no future, period. He’d just made points with Cody. It was a beginning.

  * * *

  Kendra wasn’t convinced they’d been talking about motorcycles when she’d arrived on the scene. But if Quinn had subtly rearranged the conversation and Cody had let him do it, then she wouldn’t ask any more questions. After living with five strong male personalities for years, she’d learned not to press for specifics unless it was a life and death matter.

  She’d sent them up to the cabin together as an icebreaker and evidently it had worked. They exhibited some impressive teamwork as they freed the bike from the ropes and rolled it into the barn, talking the whole time.

  Kendra stayed out of the way so she didn’t catch exactly what they were saying but words like vintage and rare were thrown around a bit. She smiled as Cody closed and latched the stall door. “Afraid it’ll get out?”

  “I don’t want anyone to think they can walk in there and mess with it. It’s a vintage Harley. They don’t make them like that anymore.”

  Kendra glanced at Quinn. “I think you have a convert.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “I’ll admit I’m fascinated,” Cody said. “Faith will be, too. She loves old-fashioned stuff. But now that I know what that motorcycle is worth, I wouldn’t dare get on it.”

  “That makes me very happy, son.” Kendra gazed at him. “I don’t care what the bike is worth but you’re priceless.”

  He laughed. “I could take that two ways.”

  “Take it as a compliment. And now that the Harley’s tucked in for the night, it’s time to rustle up some hay flakes for our equine friends.”

  “I’ll help,” Quinn said.

  “That’s not necessary. You’ve been on the road all day and you must be tired. Zane should be here shortly and Faith will show up once she finishes with her riding student.”

  “I’m not the least bit tired and I want to help.” He hesitated. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  “Hey, I never turn down free labor. We always start in the old barn because that’s where we keep our favorite horses.”

  “Can’t wait to meet them.”

  “And I can’t wait to introduce you to them.” She’d likely said the same thing to Ian the day she’d invited him to Wild Creek Ranch for the first time. Whenever she looked at Quinn, she was forty-six going on seventeen. She was enjoying the hell out of it, too.

  Chapter Four

  Quinn wouldn’t have missed feeding time for the world. Kendra was beautiful in any setting, but in that old barn, surrounded by the animals and people she loved, she glowed with happiness.

  Zane arrived soon after they did. He shook Quinn’s hand with a grip about as firm as Cody’s had been. Handshakes telegraphed so much. “Nice to see you again, Quinn.” Clearly Zane didn’t feel the need to call him Mr. Sawyer.

  Fine with him. “Same here, Zane. I surely am grateful for a safe place to fix my bike. I was up a creek without a paddle.”

  “Then I’m glad we had an empty stall you could use.” He studied him for a moment. “Did you have a mustache last time you were in town?”

  “No, that’s a new addition.” Back to the mustache discussion. Sheesh. His soup strainer was attracting way too much attention.

  “Thought so.” Zane pulled a pair of gloves from his back pocket. “Appreciate your offer to help. Use these. I’ll grab another pair.”

  “Thanks.” The worn work gloves were the same type he bought in bulk at the hardware store in Spokane. When Kendra rolled a wheelbarrow full of hay flakes through the barn door, he could almost be back at the Lazy S.

  Except none of his hired hands looked like her. She’d caught her dark hair back with a silver clip at the nape of her neck and put on a pair of work gloves like the ones Zane had handed to him. She might be surrounded by guys, but she was clearly the person in charge. That stirred his blood.

  She pushed the wheelbarrow in his direction about the time a horse at the far end of the barn started snorting and whinnying. “Hey, Winston! Be there in a minute, big boy!”

  The horse, a butterscotch and white Paint, stuck his head over the stall door and grumbled some more.

  “That’s Winston Churchill,” Kendra said. “Our big talker. Cody’s bringing in a second wheelbarrow, so let’s you and me go to the far end and work our way back. He and Zane can start from the front.”

  “What about me?” The same young woman who’d been perched on the rail teaching a riding lesson walked through the open barn doors. “Hey, Mr. Sawyer! I see they’ve put you to work already.”

  “My choice entirely.”

  “I’m Faith.” She stuck out her hand. “We met before, but you might not remember.”

  He took off his glove and shook her hand. “I do remember. It’s a pleasure, Faith. I wish you and Cody all the best.”

  “Thank you. I—”

  “Hey, Faith!” Cody came in behind her with a loaded wheelbarrow. “You should see Quinn’s 1983 Harley. You would love it.”

  She turned to Quinn, her green eyes wide. “You have a vintage bike? How cool is that! Has my dad seen it?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Kendra said. “He took off early today so he could get a haircut. He was worried he’d get busy next week and forget.”

  Faith smiled. “He’s adorable. He’s afraid if his hair is a quarter of an inch too long he’ll look like a hippie for the wedding.” She glanced at Quinn. “I’ve never seen a vintage Harley.”

  “It’s in a stall in the other barn. You’re welcome to look it over when you have time.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Tell you what,” Kendra said. “You and Cody can start feeding over there.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, Kendra.” She glanced at Cody. “Off we go, bridegroom.”

  “As you wish, my darling bride.” He lowered the wheelbarrow’s handles and turned to Zane. “Over to you, bro.” He hooked an arm over Faith’s shoulders as they left the barn. She slipped her hand in Cody’s back pocket.

  Quinn gazed after them. “Cute.”

  “Yeah.”

  Something in Kendra’s voice made him look at her. He caught her quickly thumbing moisture away from her eyes.

  But the moment passed quickly. She grasped the handles of her wheelbarrow and started down the aisle. “Okay, Quinn, prepare to meet the Prime Minister of Wild Creek Ranch.”

  Kendra took time to introduce him to each horse. He met Jake, a tall bay with Tennessee Walker lineage and Strawberry, the roan he’d seen in the corral during Faith’s teaching session.

  Licorice was the black and very feisty mare who’d thrown Kendra, an incident that had resulted in Kendra breaking her leg. Bert and Ernie were the two geldings Faith and Cody had taken on their odyssey the previous summer.

  When all the horses were fed, Quinn walked with Kendra and Zane to the new barn to help Cody and Faith finish up. Zane ended up between Quinn and Kendra on the way over. Might have been accidental. Prob
ably not.

  He looked over at Zane. “How are things going with Raptors Rise?”

  “Good. The Badger Calhoun nursery is operational. Although I hate that we’ve had orphaned raptor chicks already, at least we have the facility for them.”

  “Why is it the Badger Calhoun nursery?”

  “Badger donated the money for it, so I decided we should slap his name on it. I think he’s pleased about it. He spends a lot of time in there. Even got himself a ghillie suit so he could feed the little buggers.”

  “What’s a ghillie suit?”

  “This thing that you put on that makes you look sort of like a large bird.”

  “Or a large bush,” Kendra said. “Those things are a riot. But evidently they keep the babies from bonding with the humans who feed them.”

  “Fascinating.” Quinn hadn’t visited the birds of prey rescue center Zane had founded but he wanted to. “Maybe I can get over there while I’m here.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know in advance and I might be able to give you a tour.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “You could walk over,” Kendra said. “The house where Zane and Mandy live used to belong to Mandy’s mom, my best friend Jo. Jo and I, plus the kids, wore a path between the two properties.”

  “Or ride over,” Zane said. “I’ve done that plenty of times.”

  “I’m getting the idea there’s a lot of family history here.” Good for him to know. Kendra was fully planted in this spot.

  “Yep,” Zane said. “Plenty of good memories.” His voice was laced with pride and maybe a subtle warning. No interloper, aka Quinn Sawyer, was going to change things. Fortunately, he didn’t have that as a goal.

  Faith and Cody had almost finished distributing hay flakes, so with extra hands it was done in no time. Zane was also curious about the Harley so Quinn gave them a rundown on the bike as they gathered in the stall.

  “I’ve had it fifteen years, got it when I was thirty-six and had teenagers in the house. Not the wisest move on my part. Timing wasn’t great. They all wanted to ride it.”

  Faith skewered him with her green-eyed gaze. “So why didn’t you wait until they were older?”

  “Good question. The answer isn’t very flattering. I’d always wanted a vintage bike and this became available at a price I could handle. I was surrounded by teenagers with raging hormones and issues up the gump stump. Getting on that Harley and riding away from the ranch for an hour or two was my escape.”

  Kendra sighed. “I can so relate.”

  “What’re you talking about?” Cody gave her a nudge with his elbow. “We were perfect angels, right, Zane?”

  “That’s how I remember it. Our rooms were spotless, our homework done on time, our chores finished without complaining, our table manners—”

  “I’m sorry,” Kendra said, “but were you living in the same house with the rest of us? Or did you exist in some alternate universe?”

  Zane smiled at her. “You don’t remember it that way?”

  “You know what? I don’t, but I love your version. If I focus on it, I might convince myself you’re right which will be such a comfort in my dotage. However, my current memory of those days is that you five were a handful and there were times I would have loved to hop on a 1983 Harley and ride off into the sunset.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Too bad we didn’t know each other then.”

  “Isn’t it, though?”

  “But you had the Whine and Cheese Club,” Cody said. “You always told us you had to get together with those ladies to preserve your sanity.”

  “True.” Kendra nodded. “I didn’t have a Harley to ride, but I had my friends. I can’t complain.”

  “Are we making favors with them tomorrow night?” Faith asked. “I promised to let my attendants know if it was still on.” Then she grinned, showing off the little gap between her front teeth that made her look like a teenager. “My attendants. I’m so not used to wedding talk.”

  “You’re doing fine. And the favor-making is absolutely happening tomorrow night. Who’s coming?”

  “All of them—Mandy, April, Nicole and Olivia.”

  “And I’ll be there to help,” Quinn said.

  The entire group except Kendra stared at him.

  He shrugged. “Why not? I’ll be here and I can put birdseed in little bags.”

  “I don’t know, Quinn.” Cody tugged on the brim of his hat. “That borders on unmanly behavior right there.”

  “I can’t speak to that,” Zane said. “Yesterday I helped Mandy keep this filmy material off the floor while she sewed lace on Faith’s—”

  “Stop!” Faith hurried over and slapped her hand against his mouth. “Do not discuss it in front of Cody.” She peered at him. “You know it’s a secret.”

  He nodded.

  “If I take my hand away, will you promise not to say anything else?”

  He nodded again.

  “Okay, then. Don’t forget. My dress is a deep, dark secret.”

  “It’s not dark, though,” Zane said. “It’s—”

  “Zane,” Kendra said. “You’d best stop talking.”

  “But she doesn’t want to give everyone the impression she’s wearing a dark outfit to her wedding when it’s actually—” He was cut off by Faith’s hand smacking his mouth.

  Cody cracked up. “For crying out loud, bro. Everybody knows it’s not—”

  “Stop talking about it!” Faith moved between them and got a firm grip on each man’s ear. “Both of you.”

  “Ow! I was only clarifying.” Cody started to free himself but glanced at his bride and evidently thought better of it.

  Zane simply endured. “Sorry, Faith. I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t. You get to be part of the inner circle because you live with Mandy, but you’d better keep your lip zipped.”

  “I promise.”

  Quinn glanced at Kendra. “I wish I could offer you a ride into the sunset right now, but the Harley’s out of commission.”

  “No worries. I’m told these three are scheduled to take their dog and pony show over to Mandy and Zane’s house for the evening. And we need to stoke up the fire pit so it’ll be ready for our steaks.”

  “Then let’s go do that.”

  “Let’s.” Kendra smiled at her two sons and her future daughter-in-law. “See you all tomorrow, kids.”

  Chapter Five

  The kerfuffle over Faith’s secret wedding dress had been nothing compared to the pitched battles that had raged when Kendra’s boys had been young and rambunctious. They’d gone at it in the house, on the porch and in the yard. Mandy had often mixed it up with them, too, in those days.

  Sometimes Jo had been there to help her referee, but mostly she’d handled the inevitable squabbles and misunderstandings by herself. She’d had no one in residence to commiserate with, no one to escape with.

  But tonight there was Quinn, who laughed with her about the antics of her adult children because he got it. She’d forgotten how lovely it could be to have a comrade-in-arms, especially of the male variety.

  Once a fire was blazing in the fire pit and beer and wine were chilling in a tub filled with ice, she asked him to help with the side dishes. Soon potatoes were wrapped in aluminum foil and tucked into the coals. A pot of ranch beans was warming on the grill.

  Then Quinn earned her undying respect by offering to tear up lettuce for the salad and slice the rest of the ingredients.

  “My least favorite cooking chore,” she said as he stood chopping veggies on a cutting board and dumping them on top of the lettuce.

  He’d removed his Stetson, but the rest of him was pure cowboy—a gray yoked shirt, tooled leather belt, worn jeans and boots that were wiped clean but scuffed, as if they’d spent plenty of time in stirrups and dusty corrals.

  “Why is it your least favorite chore?” He took the jar of black olives she handed him and drained off the juice before tossing them into the
mix.

  “Boredom, I guess. You can’t multi-task when you’re making salad. The chopping seems to take forever and inevitably once I started the process the boys would come up with some crisis, or the phone would ring, or a pot would boil over.”

  “I’ve always liked making salad. You can’t ruin it unless you pour the wrong dressing on top. Until that moment, your salad is perfect. Control the dressing choice and make sure it’s tasty, and you have no worries.”

  “Uh-oh. The pressure’s on. I only have one kind on hand. What if it’s not the right one, at least according to you?”

  “Something tells me it will be.”

  “You can’t assume that, though. One person’s yummy can be another person’s yucky.”

  His lips twitched and his gray eyes twinkled. “I suppose.”

  “So much hangs on what kind of dressing is sitting in the door of my fridge.” She paused dramatically, her hand on the door. “I’m almost afraid to open this and reveal what it is.”

  “You’re gonna have to sooner or later. I’m not a fan of bare salads.”

  “Then here goes.” She opened the door and pulled out the bottle, displaying it like a trophy. “Ta-da! Balsamic vinaigrette.”

  He started laughing. “Perfect.”

  “Is it really?” His laughter was contagious. “Or are you just saying that? Tell the truth and shame the devil.”

  “No, it really is perfect.”

  “But you’re cracking up, so I’m not sure I can believe you.”

  He grinned. “I was going to say it was perfect no matter what you pulled out.”

  “Hey! No fair!”

  “But I happen to really like that one.”

  “Seriously?”

  The gleam of humor in his eyes softened to a warm glow. “Seriously.”

  Her breath caught. No one had looked at her that way in a long, long time. But she hadn’t forgotten what that look meant. Her heart pounded.

  “Hey, anybody home?”

  She let out her breath in a slow sigh. She liked Michael Murphy a whole lot, but his timing sucked.