A Cowboy’s Challenge_The McGavin Brothers Read online

  Wes looked at Ingrid. “Ready to do this thing?”

  Her eyes were that blue-green happy color. “Yes, I am.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to be my partner. I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

  “I have no doubt. That’s one of the things I like about you, Wes.”

  Well, now. That sounded promising.

  Chapter Four

  As the experienced racer, Ingrid took the lead in getting them registered and grabbing one of the Velcro straps heaped in a bin on the registration table. She suggested moving off to the side so they could strap up and take a few practice runs.

  She faced him, holding the strap. “Are you right or left-handed?”

  “Right.”

  “That helps. I’m left-handed. You should be on my right, which puts our two non-dominant legs together.”

  “So you’ll lead with your left foot and I’ll lead with my right?”

  “That’s the idea. It worked with Abigail and me last year, but then again, we’re close to the same height. You and I aren’t, so our bodies don’t match up very well.”

  Wes ducked his head, but she still heard his soft chuckle.

  “Hey.”

  “Couldn’t help it.” He glanced up and almost succeeded in looking contrite. “You sounded so serious when you said that.”

  She gave him a mock glare. “This is serious business, buster.”

  “I can see that.”

  And she intended to keep their focus on the task at hand. “Line up next to me so I can wrap this thing around our ankles.”

  “Y’all need help gettin’ hitched?”

  She looked over and there was Badger, out of uniform and back in his cowboy duds. He and his sweetheart Hayley walked toward them holding hands.

  “Badger’s appointed himself the official hitcher-upper.” Hayley tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.

  “Because it needs doin’,” Badger said. “Y’all don’t have the right angle to create the perfect connection. Let me have y’all’s strap.”

  “Yeah, okay.” She got such a kick out of Badger. And it would be easier for him to tighten the strap.

  He took the strap and crouched down in front of them. “Get closer. Put your arms around each other.”

  Uh-oh. She hadn’t anticipated this part. But she wasn’t going to back out now. She aligned herself with Wes and slid her arm around his waist. Yep, she’d been right. Not an ounce of fat on the guy. Curiosity got the better of her. “Do you work out?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “I work out of my truck.”

  She gave him a look. “I meant in a gym.”

  “There’s a gym in Eagles Nest?”

  “No, but—”

  “There you go.” Badger engaged the Velcro strip and snugged her ankle up against Wes’s. “You’re a team, now. My blessings on y’all. Have a safe and mutually satisfyin’ race.”

  “Thanks, Badger.” Ingrid tested the connection and it was solid. “What about you and Hayley? Aren’t you going to race?”

  “Oh, we will. Once I finish helpin’ folks hitch up, Ryker’s promised to do the honors for us.”

  “Then you’d better go find him.” Ingrid checked the time on her phone. “The race is supposed to start in five minutes.”

  “She’s right. We should go,” Hayley said. “We need to give you and Wes a couple of minutes to practice.”

  “Thanks.” Ingrid glanced up at the man tethered to her ankle. “We need to start off at the same time. Let’s do a countdown.”

  “Okay, you do the counting.”

  She nodded. “On three, step forward with your dominant leg and I’ll do the same. One…two…three.” She took a step and immediately lost her balance because he’d taken a much bigger step.

  “Whoops.” He grabbed her arm and edged back so their outside feet were parallel. “Took too big a stride.”

  “Yeah, you’ll have to shorten it. Let’s bring our inside legs up even with…whoa!” She grabbed onto him again as he moved before she was ready. She hopped on her free foot until she had both feet on the ground.

  “I thought you meant to do it right then.”

  “No, I—here’s an idea. Let’s pretend like we’re dancing and count it out as we go.”

  “Sounds good. You do the counting.”

  “All right. When I say one, we both move our outside legs. When I say two we both move our inside legs.”

  “Got it.”

  “Then let’s—”

  “Attention big group! Gather at the starting line!” The voice was male and bristling with authority.

  Wes glanced up. “Was that Ryker?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s his military command voice.”

  “Ha! Clearly Ryker don’t need no stinkin’ bullhorn.”

  Ingrid laughed. “No, he does not. Okay, our first task is to get to the starting line, so I’ll count in reverse from three to one so we can walk ourselves over there. When I say one, we’ll start off with the one-two, one-two cadence.”

  “I just have something to say.”

  “Say it quick.”

  “There’s an excellent chance we’ll fall, so if you feel yourself going down, land on me.”

  She was so not going to picture that scenario. “We won’t fall. Here we go. Three, two, one-two, one-two, one-two.” Their herky-jerky progress made her laugh and she bobbled the count.

  Wes picked it up. “One-two, one-two, one-two. And we’re here!” He sent her a grin of triumph.

  They joined the linked-up racers positioned side-by-side across a wide swath of field. She and Wes were second from the left. Zane and Mandy McGavin were on the end, both wearing Raptors Rise t-shirts. Mandy’s mom, Jo, stood nearby with the starting whistle around her neck.

  “Morning, Ingrid.” Zane tipped his hat in her direction.

  “Hi, Zane. Hi, Mandy. Jo, you’re not racing?”

  Jo sighed. “Dropped a jar of pickles on my toe the other day and broke it.”

  “Ouch! Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Somebody needs to be the official starter. We always have trouble finding—”

  “Aw, geez.” From down the line on Ingrid’s right, Trevor let out a groan. “Mom, what are you wearing? Oh, no. Quinn’s wearing them, too.”

  Using Wes for support, Ingrid leaned forward. Kendra and Quinn’s white canvas shoes glowed like searchlights in a row of brown boots.

  “They’re running shoes,” Kendra said. “As if you didn’t know. This is a race, isn’t it?”

  “A race where everyone wears boots,” Trevor said. “Because we’re in Montana and it’s traditional to race in boots. Ryker, did you see this travesty?”

  “I did.” Ryker’s voice boomed from the far end of the line. “And I expressed my opinion.”

  Quinn laughed. “And we respectfully declined to listen. We’re starting a new trend.”

  “Kendra must be shaking things up,” Wes said in an undertone. “I’ve never seen my dad wear shoes like that.”

  “I think they’re kind of cute, Wes.” Zane’s voice was loud enough to carry. “I mean, when you get to be a certain age, you—”

  “Make fun all you want, son,” Kendra called out. “You’ll end up eating our dust.”

  “But they’re dorky,” Cody said. “Love you, Mom. Becoming fond of you, too, Quinn. But those shoes don’t improve your look. Just sayin’.”

  “That’s fine with us.” Kendra gazed up at Quinn. “Just so it improves our racing, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Ryker?” Jo called across the field. “Are we good to go?”

  “Let ‘er rip, Aunt Jo!”

  Ingrid glanced at Wes and mouthed one-two, one-two.

  He nodded.

  The shrill blast from Jo’s whistle set off a deafening stampede. Ingrid counted as loud as she could and Wes must have heard her because they stayed in step. For a while. Until they didn’t.

  She stumbled and Wes lifted her off her feet as they both started to
fall. He hit the ground with a thud and held onto her so she couldn’t avoid landing smack-dab on top of him. His loud oof was followed by tortured gasping for air. Great. She’d knocked the wind out of him.

  Rolling away to take the weight off his chest, she sat up, sucked in a few lungsful of air and reached for the Velcro strap.

  “No.” His voice was strangled.

  “Yes.” She pulled off the strap and took another deep breath. “We did very well for the first time running together. There’s no shame in calling it at this point. We made it halfway.”

  “Not good enough.” He sat up, looked around for his hat and plucked it off the ground. “We need to finish.”

  “At the pace we were going, it will take us until tomorrow.”

  “You exaggerate.”

  “A little, but people are already crossing the finish line.” She held the strap out of reach. “It’s okay, Wes. We can plan for next summer’s race and get in some practice between now and then.”

  “Yeah?” His dark eyes regained their sparkle. “You’d be willing to do that?”

  Alarms rang in her head, but she couldn’t very well take it back. “Sure, why not?”

  “Might be difficult once it snows.”

  “We can race up and down the hall.”

  That made him laugh. “There’s an image.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” She was adding fuel to the fire, but she couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut.

  “Alrighty, then. Next year we’ll kick butt.” He dusted off his hat, settled it on his head and got to his feet. “But I still want to finish this race.” He held out his hand.

  “You’re not getting the strap.” She rolled it into a tight cylinder and stuck it in the only place she could think of where it would stay put—down the front of her blouse, tucked into her bra.

  “You’re right. I’m too much of a gentleman. But at least let me help you up.”

  “Okay.” She put her hand in his.

  He pulled her to her feet. “We’re finishing the race.” He scooped her into his arms.

  “Hey! Carrying me there doesn’t count!” And being in his arms was doing dangerous things to her pulse.

  “It should count double.” He started off at a fast walk that turned into a jog.

  “Stop! This is crazy!”

  He gulped for air. “Better’n dragging across…the finish line…with our tail…between our legs.”

  “Good Lord. You’re certifiable.” And she was enjoying this way too much. He’d promised her he’d give it all he had and he was true to his word.

  Someone must have noticed them coming across the empty field, because as they approached, all the racers lined up and began clapping and cheering. Phone cameras came out. Winning the race would have been gratifying, but this was way more memorable.

  He crossed the finish line and continued to hold her as he gasped for breath. “We did it.”

  “You did it.” She patted his sweat-dampened cheek. “Good job. Now put me down, please.” She needed some space to regain her equilibrium.

  He set her carefully on her feet as everyone shoved water bottles and towels at them. She took the water but backed away to let them fuss over Wes.

  Abigail came over with Delilah trotting at her heels and Ingrid crouched down to love on the border collie. “Where have you been, girl?”

  “We put her in the truck during the race,” Abigail said. “She would have loved running with us, but there were a million ways that could have gone bad.”

  “Well, she’s here, now.” Ingrid buried her fingers in Delilah’s thick ruff and gave her a kiss on the nose.

  Delilah’s tail wagged a mile a minute. She gave Ingrid a tiny swipe on the nose in return.

  “And so happy to be with her peeps.” Abigail glanced over at the group clustered around Wes. “I’ll bet that move was a first. We should ask someone who’s lived here longer.” She raised her voice. “Kendra, has anybody ever carried their racing partner across the finish line?”

  “I don’t think so.” She walked toward them, still wearing her running shoes. Quinn was with the crowd gathered around his son. “I missed one race when I had the flu, but I would have heard about it if anybody had done that.” She leaned down to stroke Delilah. “Hey, pup. Good to see you.”

  “Wes broke the rules of the game, of course,” Ingrid said.

  “He did, but what a swashbuckling move.” Kendra chuckled. “He’s clearly his father’s son. Gallant gestures seem to be a Sawyer specialty.”

  “I’m getting that.” She stood and glanced over at Wes, the hero of the hour even though they’d come in dead last.

  He looked in her direction, smiled and lifted his water bottle in a silent toast. She lifted hers in return, but the telltale flutter in her stomach made her uneasy. She’d have to be clear that they were just keeping it friendly.

  Chapter Five

  Wes hadn’t factored in the dynamic now that his dad was in a relationship with Kendra. Even though they weren’t married, weren’t even living together, they’d become the de facto heads of an extended family. And the Eagles Nest Fourth of July celebration was all about family.

  Everybody seemed to assume that Ingrid was with Wes for the day. He was fine with that and she made no move to excuse herself, so evidently she was okay with the arrangement, too. When someone wanted a group photo, she seemed happy to be in the picture.

  Hanging out with Ingrid while surrounded by friends and family made for a fun-filled, no-pressure situation. It wasn’t a date, although carrying her across the finish line had shifted the dynamic. He was a lot more aware of her than he had been the past month. Being with her added spice to every activity, even though the atmosphere was as wholesome as a church picnic.

  The pie-eating contest contributed to that downhome vibe. Wes entered as he’d promised Ingrid he would. The pies were delicious, but afterward he kept visualizing Ingrid up to her elbows in flour, her cheeks flushed, as she made the crusts and spooned in the filling.

  Sexy image, at least to him. He hadn’t thought of her that way before. It was part of the reason that being with her gave him a buzz and contributed to his efforts as he fought to stay awake. He maintained his energy level until dinnertime, when he made the mistake of having a beer with his meal. He’d bought a beer for Pete as promised and had managed to add in dinner. He’d talked Ingrid into letting him treat her, too.

  The McGavin/Sawyer contingent had snagged a couple of large tables near the bandstand and the music was toe-tapping wonderful. Wes enjoyed the heck out of the food, the tunes and his beer until he made it to the bottom of his mug. Then exhaustion hit him between the eyes.

  “Hey, little brother.” Pete reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “I think you’re done.”

  He took a deep breath and straightened. “I don’t want to be done. I’m having too much fun.”

  Ingrid leaned closer and peered into his face. “You can barely keep your eyes open, buster.”

  “I just need to move, that’s all.” He flattened his hands on the table and pushed himself up before climbing over the attached bench seat. “Would you like to dance?”

  She gave him a worried look. “Wes, I don’t think that’s a good—”

  “The band is terrific. Don’t you think it’s terrific? Come on. It’s a two-step. Let’s grab our chance before it’s finished. I love me a good two-step. That’ll get my blood flowing again.” He held out his hand.

  She glanced at it with a small frown. “Okay. One dance.” She put her hand in his. “Or half a dance, anyway.”

  “Thanks.” She was probably tired, too. But getting on their feet would shake off the sleepiness. Touching her was a bonus. He got a reviving jolt of sensation when he clasped her hand and helped her out of her seat. Then he led her up the steps to the dance platform.

  Marshalling his forces, he slipped an arm around her waist and swung her neatly into the kaleidoscope of dancers already on the floor. A couple was righ
t on their heels, but he picked up the pace and avoided a collision.

  “Fancy meeting you here.” His dad twirled Kendra under his arm. They’d ditched the running shoes in favor of boots. “Aren’t you ready to pack it in, son?”

  “Not yet.” He executed a similar move with Ingrid. “What happened to the running shoes?”

  “They served their purpose,” Kendra said.

  “Did you guys win? I’m embarrassed to admit I didn’t get that info.”

  “We won,” his dad said, “and you can bet folks will be wearing them next year. But you gotta have boots for dancing.” He whirled Kendra in one direction and back in the other.

  “Especially fancy dancing.” Ingrid looked up at Wes. “Can you do that?”

  “Only on Wednesdays.”

  “But it’s—”

  “So it is.” He navigated the double whirl. “The big guy taught me everything he knows.”

  His dad laughed. “Not quite.”

  “What? You’ve been holding out on me?”

  “Never. But some things a man has to learn for himself.” He smiled at Kendra. “Agreed?”

  “Couldn’t have said it better.”

  “Hey, Wes.” His dad did the double twirl thing again. “If you leave before I do, I—”

  “Banjo. Pete told me. Afternoon?”

  “That works.”

  “I’ll text you.”

  “Do that. In case I’m over at Wild Creek.” The music stopped and he glanced down at Kendra. “Ready to relax with a beer?”

  “You know it.” She turned to Wes and Ingrid. “Want to join us?”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Wes said, “One more beer and I’ll have to be carried home.”

  After his dad and Kendra walked away, their arms around each other’s waists, Ingrid lowered her voice. “They’re so cute together.”

  “Yep.” The band launched into a slow tune and Ingrid was right there, so he pulled her into his arms and moved gently with the music. “I always thought my dad had created the perfect life for himself. He seemed completely satisfied with it. But when I see him with Kendra…he’s so much more vibrant now.”