Emily Carmichael - How To Lasso A Cowboy

Mary watched as Cooper walked out of the store.

“Good riddance.” Miles’s comment blended with the door’s closing.

Mary moved from the shadows. “We don’t have any reason to hate the man, Miles. He doesn’t have any grudge against you.”

“You can’t trust these people, Mary. Any of them. They don’t care about us, even if a few of them act like they do. I’ve told you that a thousand times. It will take a generation, maybe more, for the bitterness between North and South to die. Our moving here doesn’t change that.”

Mary nodded. They’d left Virginia with nothing six years ago. Miles’s leg kept him from working most places and the few desk jobs he’d been qualified for had a hundred other veterans apply. Running the mercantile for their uncle seemed the only option. But by the time they got to Texas, their uncle Luther had died, leaving them the dilapidated remains of a once thriving business and no extra money to repair or restock. Slowly, Miles had built the business, hating every minute, trapped and resenting fate’s twist. No one had offered to help him at first and he had not bothered to ask.

Miles’s smile was sad when he added, “How about we close early tonight? I could take the empty apple crates and a load of supplies out to the Kiley place. You could read.” He sounded like he truly wanted to make her feel better. “You know Mrs. Kiley will insist I bring home one of her pies. We could eat it with a late supper when I get back.”

Mary smiled, silently agreeing to the truce. “Sounds like a good plan. I found an old reader in a chest you traded for the other day. I’ll send it out to their youngest boy. Remind them he should be starting his lessons this year. Unless you want me to go along and talk to them?”

Miles shook his head. “With all the empty boxes I’ll be carrying and the bad road, the wagon will rattle all the way. No use in both of us having to listen to that. But I’ll be sure to pass along the advice and the book.”

Mary put away items left on the counter as she talked. “I did promise I’d work with the Andrews children on math for a few hours tonight. Not one of them can add.”

Mr. Andrews owned the livery and had a child every fall like clockwork. He couldn’t pay Mary anything for her lessons, but loaned them a wagon or buggy anytime they were in need. “If I don’t work fast, there will be more kids in that family than any of the Andrews can count.”

Miles pulled down the paper blind over the door’s glass. “I’d rather listen to the rattling of the boxes than those brats. You’re not bringing them all in here, are you?”

“No. I’ve learned my lesson. Half a pound of candy disappeared last time. We’ll work in the loft over the livery tonight.”

Two hours later Mary wished she’d gone with Miles. The Andrews kids might not be able to add, but they could all talk. In fact, none of them seemed to know how to stop. Her head pounded as she crossed the road and headed back to the apartment above the store.

It didn’t matter which side of the street she walked, she had to pass a saloon either way. Mary kept her head down and hurried as fast as she dared along the poorly lit walkway.

She made it past the door of the saloon before she noticed two men sitting in the wicker chairs between the saloon’s windows. Light shone on either side, but they were in shadow.

“Evenin’, miss.” One man stood as she neared. Tall and thin, his mustache hung below his jawline.

“Evenin’, miss,” the other echoed in a slurred voice. “Nice night for a walk.” He tried to stand, but fell over the arm of the chair and almost tumbled off the porch. “Wanta join us?”

Fear contracted Mary’s muscles. Her lungs refused to pull in air, her hands clutched the books she carried as if they somehow could hold her afloat. She heard the jingle of their spurs as the two cowboys moved on either side of her. Their shadows crossed over her, landing invisible blows, stirring terror into her blood.

“How about we walk you home, Miss Woodburn?” The first cowboy took her arm as her name rolled too freely off his tongue. “Whatta you say, Frank? We should walk the Yankee’s sister home?”

She attempted to pull away. The music from the saloon door was so loud no one would hear her if she screamed. “No,” she tried to say without sounding frightened. “I can make it home fine. I’ve only a short way.”

“Yeah.” Frank moved closer, almost falling into her as he tried to take her arm. His breath polluted the air with the smell of bad whiskey. “We’ll walk you home, girl.”

“Nno,” Mary managed to say. “Leave me alone.” She fought to free her arm, but the tall cowboy held tightly. “I have to go. My brother is waiting for me.”

Frank snickered. “No, he ain’t. We seen him driving out of here with a load of apple crates.” He snorted a laugh as if Mary were simply playing a game with him. “Only one place your brother would be taking them: Kiley’s farm. He won’t be back for an hour, maybe more.”

The hold on her arm tightened as the other drunk leaned closer. “We’ll have time to get to know one another real well by then. We heard tell you like getting to know cowboys.”

“No!” Mary dropped the books and tried to free herself. “Leave me alone!”

As panic and fear strangled her, she heard the jingle of a third man’s spurs coming up from behind her in quick, pounding strides.

Suddenly the thin cowboy turned loose her arm as he flew across the porch and hit against the saloon’s wall with the thud of a ripe pumpkin. Frank stumbled away, mumbling that he wanted no part of a fight.

Mary felt his nearness even before the man behind her stepped into the light.

“Miss Woodburn, are you all right?”

He stood so close she could feel the warmth of his words against her cheek. She was so relieved to see Cooper Adams she almost hugged him. He bent and picked up the books she’d dropped. When he stood, he whispered, “Would you allow me to see you safely home?”

Shyly, she took his arm, unsure she trusted him, but knowing she didn’t trust the two men watching them.

He placed his hand over her fingers as they rested on his sleeve. “It’s all right, Mary,” he added as soon as they were far enough away that the two drunks couldn’t hear. “You’re safe now.”

They moved between the shadows of the stores, strolling as if they were no more than a courting couple out for a walk. She couldn’t stop shaking and hated herself for being so weak. This was a country where bravery was highly valued and she must be proving herself the greatest coward in the state.

Cooper slowed to a stop. “Mary, are you really all right?”

“No.” Panic still darted through her veins like tadpoles swimming in warm water. “II’m sorry.” It made no sense. The unpleasantness with the cowboys was over. But she couldn’t relax, her body wouldn’t stop shaking.

At the steps between porches, Cooper faced her. He stood one stair below so that their eyes met. “Mary?” he asked as he opened his arms.

If he’d tried to hold her, if he’d made a move toward her, she would have run. But he didn’t. He just stood there and waited.

Mary closed the space between them. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let her entire body melt against him. Needing the comfort he offered. Wanting, for once, not to be afraid.

Cooper gently closed her into the circle of his arms. He held her tightly, protectively. “You’re all right now, Mary,” he whispered against her hair. “No one is going to hurt you.”

The shaking stopped; she breathed. For the first time in years she relaxed, feeling shielded from all harm. This man she’d watched for so long, wondering what he thought, had somehow read her mind tonight and offered the one thing she needed, shelter from fear.

Cooper Adams, a man she hardly knew, took no advantage, made no improper move. He held her safe in his solid arms. The warmth of his body pressed into hers like a soothing, healing balm.

For a long while, she rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Finally, he lifted her up as if she were no more than a sleeping child and carried her to the mercantile.

When he lowered her at the door, he touched his hat. “Good night, Miss Woodburn,” he said formally as if they hadn’t just held one another a moment before. “Will you be all right until your brother gets home?”

Mary nodded. She thought of asking him in but knew Miles would be furious if he came home and found Cooper Adams inside the store. “Thank you,” she said as she unlocked the door.

“You’re welcome.” He stepped away without another word.

She climbed the stairs to the apartment. Once locked inside, she crossed to the window before she turned on any lights. There, across the street, hidden in shadows, she saw Cooper’s outline leaning against a wall. He watched, waiting to make sure she was safe.

Mary smiled. She had her own private guardian angel.

An hour later when Miles pulled the wagon to the side entrance, she looked out the window again. As Miles climbed down from his wagon, she saw Cooper move away, unnoticed by anyone but her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wishing he could hear her.

He glanced up at her window as if he caught her words on the wind, then disappeared into the night.

COOPER COULDN’T GET Mary Woodburn out of his mind. The woman was a plague worse than yellow fever. For the next few days she managed to creep into his every thought. It was just a matter of time before he talked about her the way Winnie talked about Woodburn, relating every topic of conversation to him. His sister hardly knew the man, yet somehow he’d become her center.

Johanna and Emma convinced Cooper they needed to schedule the shindig before the weather turned cold. By the end of the week they had half his men doing odd jobs for them and running errands as though the cowhands were part of the social committee.