Lassoed by Love (The Cowboys of BlueSong Series Book 3) Read online

  “He's great. I've hardly had time with him since we got in with his mom doting on him. I'm not complaining. He needs someone besides me.”

  “Yeah, I understand. So, he goes in for the evaluation tomorrow?”

  “Not right away. We have a boatload of tests to run. The plan is have him rest tomorrow, and we’ll get started the day after. How’s Kitty?”

  The cat in question strolled into the living room, bumping the legs of the center table on its way toward Crissy. She apparently had found a way around her visual impairment. “She's just waking up. I better go feed her.” The sound of a truck filtered into the house. “Talk to you later, dearie.”

  She picked the cat up, stroking her fur. “Let's get you fed, lady.”

  Crissy walked into the kitchen and peeked through the window in time to see Wyatt heading toward the side of the house. The grey of dawn had started to lift. He was dressed in faded jeans and a buttoned-down checkered shirt, the cream color setting off his blond hair that was several shades darker than hers. Heat rose in her face remembering the fiasco of the night before.

  Setting the cat down, Crissy retrieved her bowl and poured some milk in it. “I'll be back, buddy.”

  She wanted to apologize, is all.

  Yeah, sing that to the birds, a small voice taunted. Ignoring it, she stepped out and closed the door. She owed him to find out if he was okay. To avoid a repeat of yesterday's episode, this time against her, she made a noisy entrance. If his strength was anything to go by, she wouldn't go unscathed if he attacked her.

  “Warrior,” he said when he poked his head through the inner door.

  “I'm not a warrior. I was defending myself.”

  He smiled, displaying cute dimples. “I beg to differ. Who attacked who?”

  Crissy flushed. “I hope I didn't hurt you?”

  He waved off her concern as he poured some oats for the horse in the first stall. Crissy stepped closer. The smell of horse, feed, and the same Old Spice that Mark used to wear stirred her nostrils. One more thing to remind her of the cheating low life.

  Perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. “Should I be worried?”

  “About?” she asked, frowning.

  “Last time I got this close, I had the daylight beaten out of me.”

  “Very funny.” Swallowing a chuckle, she said, “I'm sorry.”

  “I still haven't figured out how you will pay for your crimes. Beating up an upstanding citizen is not acceptable anywhere in the world.” He chuckled. “That’s some mighty wild swing you got there, by the way. Thought of it for the better part of the night and kept laughing. Uh, through the excruciating pain in my shoulder that is.”

  By the way he was teasing her, she could see she hadn’t hurt him too bad. Did he really miss sleep? The whole thing had kept her awake for a while, too. Embarrassment at her missteps and fascination with the handsome— She cut the thought. She was there to get information. “You're the Danner’s bull rider, right?”

  Surprise lit his blue gaze, and he flicked his blond bangs out of the way to get a better view of her.

  “How did you know?”

  Crissy shrugged. “Media, duh. You guys are celebrities.”

  He snorted. “We're just pawns in their hand. People who help them make brisk business. They forget we're normal human beings with flaws and all. They end up making merchandise of us.”

  His tone was bitter. For moments, the jovial guy had snuck behind an emotion she couldn't name—anger? Bitterness?

  She remembered what Pam had said. “You got into their hands?”

  He just gave a curt nod.

  “What can I help you with?” she asked changing the subject.

  He took in her dress. “You city girls wouldn't know what to do.”

  “You think. I grew up on Pam's family farm in Michigan. I'm not your regular city girl.”

  “Where's your family?”

  “Don't have one.”

  “Sorry I asked.” Wyatt turned away and started feeding the horses.

  “No worries.”

  She followed his lead and over the next half hour, they fed and watered the animals. "I'll turn them out on the pasture tomorrow morning and then get them in when I come back at night."

  “Sounds like a plan. You want to come in for coffee?”

  “If you promise not to attack me.” Humor danced in his eyes.

  Crissy slapped a hand to her forehead. “Will I ever hear the end of this?”

  “Not likely. Unless you pay up what you owe.”

  “Coffee good enough pay? I make a robust brew that would keep a cowboy perked all day long.”

  “You think? That would be too easy. I'll keep thinking of something that would give you as much pain as you gave me.”

  “You're mean.”

  “That's not what family and friends think.” He extended his arm. “After you.”

  She turned and headed for the house. Once inside, she grabbed the coffee pot and located the ground beans. Moments later, she poured him a mug full of coffee.

  “Thanks.” He sipped it and nodded. “No kidding. Where did you learn to make this? Most females don’t take strong coffee.”

  “I told you.” She poured hers and took a sip, welcoming the jolt of caffeine in her system. She wasn't much of a morning person and relied on her never failing highly caffeinated brew to perk her up. “As a teenager on Pam's family farm, I needed something to keep me going with school and farm chores. I'm not a morning person. So, I figured if I was going to earn their love, be good enough ...” Crissy stuttered to a stop. She didn't know this guy and here she was baring her soul, something only Pam's family knew about.

  “Have you been here before?”

  Grateful for the change in subject, she said, “So many times. The first time was when I got my study visa and moved here. Then, when I came to celebrate my job and a few more times until work got demanding. I'm grateful for my job, though. Getting a good one straight from college was a big deal for me.”

  “What do you do? Pamela told me you couldn't get away. Imagine my shock when my attacker turned out to be you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You sound like a broken record.” She enjoyed his banter. Even if it was at her expense. “I work for a magazine company for now as one of their professional writers. I’m a journalist, though. My boss came up with some crazy project, and I never thought I’d get the chance to get away.” She propped her chin on her knuckle. “What’s life like as a bull rider?”

  He stared at her for a moment. If it was mock suspicion, she didn't know. “Hmm. Just the kind of person I should stay away from.” He drained his cup and stood.” I better get going. We have some cattle branding to do.”

  She nodded. Disappointment unfurled in her belly. Maybe, she had been too hasty.

  But, time wasn't her friend.

  WYATT WALKED TO HIS truck and pulled the door open. He looked back to see Crissy standing on the porch, watching him. “What plans do you have for the day?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  She lifted her shoulders. “Writing.”

  “That must be boring.”

  She laughed. “Not quite. Even though I'd rather be out with my friends, kayaking.”

  “You're into crazy sports too?”

  “Not anywhere close to bull riding, but yes, I enjoy a bit of dangerous fun.”

  “I just figured a way for you to pay up your debt.”

  Her expressive blue eyes regarded him from the porch. “Unless you prefer I lodge a complaint. I have a bruise on my shoulder to show.” Wyatt chuckled when her eyes widened. “I was just joking. If you pay up, I promise to never bring it up again.”

  She contemplated for a moment.

  Wyatt didn't plan to examine why he was inviting her. “Anyway, if you're not interested, you'll hear from me.” He climbed into his truck. He had no plans of lodging a complaint, but he enjoyed ribbing her, anyway.

  “Right now?” she called as he closed the truck door and
peered out the open window.

  He nodded. “Unless you have too much writing to do. Maybe you could add the story of how you walloped an unsuspecting cowboy.” Wyatt grinned.

  “Hold on a minute, I'll go change.” She bit her lip. “Uh, I need to keep an eye on Kitty.”

  “Good. Bring the cat along. Our housekeeper will be glad to help.”

  She turned and entered the house. Minutes later, she walked out in form fitting jeans and a body hugging tee shirt, the big tabby in her arms. For someone so slim, she was curved in all the right places. Wyatt pushed open the passenger door, appreciating the scent that preceded her. He wasn't shopping for a girlfriend.

  So why did you invite her along? Good question.

  And a bad idea. His siblings would tease him mercilessly. Before he could change his mind, she climbed up on the passenger side and slipped inside.

  He pulled out of the driveway.

  “You're sure your housekeeper won't mind? Kitty needs a lot of help.”

  “She won't. Just tell her what assistance Kitty requires. We'll pick her up when we return.”

  A few minutes later, they turned into the Rockin’ D just as a horse trailer headed out. He looked at her. “Do you even ride?”

  “Enough to save my life, yes. And I can rope a calf.”

  He searched her gaze. Was she kidding? “Definitely not the ones in your magazine.”

  “No,” she giggled. “Real life ones. I used to have a friend whose dad owned a ranch. They were neighbors with Pam’s parents.”

  A cowboy dressed in baggy jeans and a plaid shirt approached and knocked on her window.

  “Can you get yourself out of there?” Rait asked.

  Her startled gaze went to Rait.

  “My older brother. Let's get the horses out. Wyatt's brother stepped out of the way and opened the door.

  “He won't bite,” Wyatt said with a wink.

  She climbed down, uncertain.

  Rait indicated the empty yard. “Everyone else is gone.”

  “We'll be there in no time. Rait, meet Chrystolle, Pamela’s cousin. Chrystolle, Rait.”

  “The one who almost killed you last night?” Amusement lit his eyes.

  Heat fanned Wyatt’s neck and he willed it not to burst into his face. Talk of putting one’s foot in one’s mouth. He raised his hands in surrender. “It's not every day a guy gets beat up by a woman he doesn’t know.”

  “I guess he needs that sometimes.”

  If his brother wasn't married, Wyatt would've been jealous at the smile he gave Chrystolle as he shook her hand. Jealous? Him? That would be the day.

  “Everybody calls me Crissy.”

  She slipped her hands in her back pockets. Was she nervous? “This way. We need to get the horses ready to go.”

  “See you around,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  After handing over Kitty to Consuela, their new cook, Wyatt led Crissy toward the barn. “How come I don't get to call you Crissy?”

  “Do I owe you a response? Not only do you beat me over the head for attacking you, you tell your brother.”

  He stepped in front of her. Better to be upfront before another sibling told her. “We had a family dinner last night.” This time he was sure the flush had made an appearance on his face. “I actually told everyone.” He scratched his head.

  Crissy’s eyes were as wide as gold coins. She stopped. “How many people were there?”

  “My dad and five of us.” He didn't mention the in-laws. Couldn't.

  She blushed a deep red. “I'm so not going with you.”

  She huffed and turned, tripping on a stone. Wyatt grabbed for her, steadying her. “Crissy, I'm so sorry.” She stopped but didn't turn. “I hadn't known you would end up meeting them. But that doesn't excuse me.”

  “I guess I'll have to decide if I forgive you. Won't I? One more word from you, and I might just attack you again.”

  “Not one word, I cross my heart.”

  She fought a smile as she followed him back into the barn. Within minutes, they led his Azteca mare and an Arabian thoroughbred into the horse trailer and latched it. Crissy got into the cab.

  “Are you in for a full day?”

  “We'll see.” She flashed him a big smile.

  He liked her enthusiastic spirit, her... what?

  Something in her called to him, he wasn't sure if that had anything to do with what she said about needing to earn love, to be good enough? Yeah, she was nothing like Chelsea, but getting himself back into the tours was the most important thing now. And he better keep his likings under wraps

  Chapter Four

  Wyatt pulled up beside six other horse trailers. It looked like the Danner branding was a huge affair. There were—she did a quick head count—twenty five people, walking around the huge pasture, putting things in place.

  A spot she assumed was the cooking area was already set up beside the chuck wagon. A campfire with a spit for roasting meat already going with a couple guys working on it. Plastic tables and chairs to eat at were stacked neatly to the side. Piles of wood sat to one side. Bags of chips and several packed items containing she didn't know what filled a table. Obviously this was a big affair.

  The mooing of cattle filled the air amidst human chatter. Everyone was more like shouting to be heard above the din.

  “Are you coming?”

  Her gaze flew to his. What am I doing here? “Uh, yeah.”

  “If you don't want to, you could stay with Grey by the chuck wagon. Except that you'd still owe—”

  She pointed at him in warning. “We're even in that regard. Not one word. Thanks to you, I have to deal with your family thinking what a crazy woman I am.”

  He laughed, pushing her door open. His woodsy cologne invaded her senses but was soon replaced by the combo of cow dung and urine. She screwed up her nose and climbed down.

  She wished she was with her writing pad, but then, it would be glaring that she was writing for her magazine. She'd have to put her mind and memory to good use. “Can I take pictures, something to remind me of your punishment?”

  He laughed. “Sure.” Wyatt led the horses out while Crissy took pictures on her phone. When Wyatt was done, he came over to her. “I'll introduce you to Dad.”

  She grimaced and shook her head. “Not gonna happen.”

  “You're blushing.”

  When she glared at him, he looked away, but not before she caught a glimpse of those dimples that said he found the whole thing funny.

  “Dad is coming. But, don't worry. He's nothing like my brother.”

  Mr. Danner reached them. “You're late, son. Who is this lovely young woman?”

  “Crissy, meet my dad. Dad, Crissy. She’s Pamela’s cousin.”

  Crissy willed herself not to blush. The man’s blue eyes crinkled at the edges. Was he amused? “Call me Bill. Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here, sir.” His handshake was firm. Though slightly shorter, Wyatt got his good looks from his dad.

  “We have everything set up. Let's get it going. Wyatt, I think it's better you brand than rope.”

  “I'm fine, Dad.”

  “I know. Humor me, all right?”

  Wyatt didn't answer, his face pinched as though angry.

  “I could rope if you can't. I mean, I’m not the best and haven't done it in a while, but I could try.” Crissy offered.

  His look didn't thaw. “I'll introduce you then.” He handed her a Stetson. “You'll need this.”

  His gesture touched a chord in her. Crissy slapped the Stetson on. “You look angry.”

  “I don't want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. I'm sorry.”

  He made introductions and got Princess saddled for her. “She's gentle. You should be fine.”

  Without another word, he turned away. Whatever his dad’s reason, giving him branding duties rubbed Wyatt raw. Crissy didn't want to see this part of him or anyone for that matter. His action shaved off the years back to when Criss
y was a little girl, cowering under her dad’s wilting anger while Mom drowned her sorrow in the bottle. Not something she cared to experience ever again.

  Rait glanced in Wyatt’s direction as he went toward the branding section and then walked up to her, leading his horse. “Have you done this before?”

  “Yeah, long ago. I can give it a try.”

  He looked at her for a moment. “We'll work together. Just follow my lead.”

  Crissy nodded. She swung onto the saddle and accepted the rope he handed her. She glanced in Wyatt’s direction, and he turned his gaze away.

  Well, whatever. Turning, she followed Rait. Two other riders were in the big corral. Apparently, the cows and their calves had been herded there and now they were being sorted.

  “Stay here.” Rait pointed to the entrance of a second corral separated from the other by a small door. “We'll direct the calves as they send them this way.”

  “All right.” Princess seemed to know what to do, because as each calf ran their way, Princess urged them into the pen.

  A half hour later, they had two hundred calves separated from their mamas. Their disapproving lowing rent the morning sky.

  “You ready, Crissy?” Rait asked, smiling in encouragement.

  She smiled in return. “Yes.”

  Rait cornered a calf, swung his rope in the air and it slipped smoothly over its neck. Whoa, not the guy she should be working with. With her skill, she was bound to slow him down. She mimicked what he did but instead of the rope catching the calf’s leg, it hit him, causing him to flee. But not so far with Rait’s rope around his neck.

  “Try again.”

  His encouragement gave her a boost. Two tries later, she got the legs.

  “Good job,” he said, giving her a thumbs up. They led the calf to the branding area. Wyatt held her gaze for a split second then gave her a small smile that said ‘I'm impressed.’

  She smiled back.

  Once the calf was branded and vaccinated, they turned him loose.