Chapter Seven #3
Rawley unstrapped and produced the two paper lunch sacks, a couple of water bottles, and a soft woven blanket.
He handed her the bags and bottles, then spread the blanket on the grass, then he removed the saddles.
She took his outstretched hand, slipped down onto the blanket, and he settled beside her, their shoulders brushing.
In front of them, the pond mirrored the sky, and dragonflies skittered across its smooth surface.
The hush of the plains wrapped around them, and for a moment, nothing existed but the gentle crunch of grass under hooves and the shared warmth of a new connection.
****
Skylar handed him a bag and bottle, then opened hers.
“What did you make us?”
“Turkey and Swiss cheese with mayo or mustard.”
“Mayo or mustard?”
“I made one of each. Whichever one you didn’t want, I’d eat. I like both mayo and mustard.”
“Well, that was smart. I like both too, but I prefer mayo.”
“That’s fine.” He removed his sandwich from the baggie and checked it. “This is mustard.”
“Okay.” She removed hers from the bag, took a bite and moaned. “I’m really hungry.”
“Did you eat anything?”
“I had coffee and toast.”
“Coffee and toast? You call that eating?”
Skylar shrugged. “I was nervous.”
“About what?”
“Seeing you.”
Rawley tilted his head. “Why? Do you regret last night?”
“Oh, dear Lord, not at all. It was great.” She shook her head.
“Then you shouldn’t be nervous about seeing me again.”
She looked away from him, but she felt his hand on her chin, making her face him.
“Skylar?”
“It just hit me, after you left last night, that you probably think I sleep with any man who comes along.”
“I never thought that. It happened because there’s a lot of heat between us.”
Skylar nodded. “Chemistry.”
“Yes, and every relationship needs that. I told you I wanted to keep seeing you.”
“That was before we had sex.”
“And after sex that good, you thought I didn’t want to see you again? Skylar, I asked you to come here after that.”
“Maybe just for sex.”
“Bullshit.” He sighed. “I like you. I want to see what this is, don’t you?”
“I do.” She grabbed his hand. “Rawley, I don’t do that.”
“Skylar, I know that. A man usually doesn’t have trouble knowing which woman will hop into bed with anyone and one who won’t.”
“Thank you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I love that, ‘yes, ma’am, darlin’, sweetheart, all that cowboy jargon.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘yes, ma’am, is cowboy jargon.
My parents taught me to always say that along with ‘yes, sir, please, and thank you’.
” He shrugged. “As far as darlin’ and sweetheart, I agree most cowboys use those to sweettalk a woman, but I’m not one of them.
I called you those because I wanted to.”
“You don’t need to sweettalk a woman. Have you seen you?”
He laughed. “Come on, Skylar. I bet you have men coming on to you all the time.”
“I’m not having this conversation.” She raised her eyebrows.
He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head slightly. “Touché,” he said, the word slipping out with a soft exhale that carried a hint of both admiration and surrender.
Skylar removed her hat, set it on the blanket, then pressed a hand to his lightly whiskered cheek, feeling the rough tickle of stubble beneath her palm. “I do like you, Rawley,” she confessed, her voice soft against the hum of birds overhead.
He leaned in and his lips met hers in a tender kiss that deepened as the afternoon heat wrapped around them. When they finally broke apart, she grinned.
“You taste like mustard.”
Rawley chuckled. He took another bite, reached for his bottled water and took a long drink.
Skylar watched him peel off his hat, revealing dark hair ruffled by his fingertips, then leaned back and placed his hat over his face.
She folded her sandwich wrapper into one of the crinkling paper bags, scooped up the empty baggies, and tucked them all inside before twisting off her own water bottle cap.
She raised it to her lips, took a long drink, then held it against her jawline trying to cool down.
“It’s so hot,” she murmured. “I hate this.”
Rawley’s voice came muffled from beneath his tilted hat. “You don’t like summer?”
“Not really.” She shook her head, watching a dragonfly flit across sunbeams. “I keep telling myself I was born in the wrong state. Give me crisp fall days over this insufferable heat any time.”
He chuckled, exhaling a breath of agreement. “Fall is my favorite, too, the smell of fallen leaves, the first chill in the air. Spring’s pretty good, too. You get blooms and freshness without sweating through your shirt or freezing your balls.”
She laughed as she laid back beside him on the blanket, the fibers poking through her shirt. “Are you outdoors a lot?” she asked, tracing a pattern on the canvas.
“More than I’m indoors,” Rawley replied, stretching out his legs.
“When I’m not buried behind a desk, I’m out in the fields, or in a barn.
” He lifted his hat and set it on the blanket.
Skylar turned onto her side to watch him, the afternoon light casting warm shadows across his strong features. “But you love it. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling to face her. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. “You’re a beautiful woman, Skylar McCoy.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, cheeks flaming.
Rawley sat up, his gaze drifting to the tree line where pines met sky when the dogs stood stock still, staring into the woods. He squinted, as though listening. “They heard some—” His words cut off as two riders emerged between the trunks, their horses’ hooves soft on the ground. “thing. Damn.”
She sat up, heart thudding. “Do you know them?”
He stood, brushing dust from his Wranglers.
“Yes. I wasn’t expecting them today, but we’ll head back if you’re ready.
” He turned toward the pair of Border collies, their black and white coats gleaming in the afternoon sun.
“Calvin, Hobbs, stay.” The dogs immediately sank onto their bellies, ears perked forward attentively, their eyes staying focused on the woods.
Skylar slipped her hat on and watched the newcomers approach across the clearing. They were young, probably no more than twenty. The young man guided his horse to a stop a few paces away; the young woman trailed behind.
The man folded his forearms over the saddle horn, tipping his Stetson. He grinned, sun glinting off the silver conchos on his belt.
“Agent Bowman,” he called with a polite nod.
Rawley lifted his chin. “Stringbean.”
Skylar cleared her throat, stepping forward. “Hi, I’m Skylar McCoy.”
The young cowboy pushed himself upright in the saddle, hat brim dipping in greeting. “Ma’am, I’m Bobby Gibbs, and this is my girlfriend, Rachel Norton.” Rachel offered a shy smile.
Skylar heard Rawley snort beside her. She glanced over, catching the corner of his mouth twitching.
“He’s so damn proud of that,” Rawley muttered, nodding toward Bobby.
Bobby sat astride a glossy Paint gelding, shoulders shaking with laughter. Skylar followed his gaze to Rachel, perched confidently on her own Paint with a flowing mane.
“Rachel, how are you?” Rawley asked.
Rachel brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I’m wonderful, Agent Bowman,” she replied.
“Good. We’re heading back to the barn. If you two want a break, now’s your chance.”
Bobby kicked free of his stirrups and dismounted. He reached for Rachel’s hand, but she slid gracefully to the grass on her own, smoothing her jeans.
Skylar approached the Paint, running a finger along its coat. “Your horse is so pretty.”
Rachel beamed. “Thanks. Yours is gorgeous, too. Paints are my favorite.”
“One of mine for sure,” Skylar said, smiling.
Rawley turned and started to saddle the horses, tightening the cinch on them. When Skylar moved to help, he shook his head firmly. “I’ve got it. You just stand there looking beautiful.” He winked when she smiled at him.
Moments later, saddles secured, Skylar and Rawley mounted. They touched their hats to Bobby and Rachel, then trotted off along a winding trail through tall grass and wildflowers.
After a few minutes of steady canter, Skylar looked at Rawley. “So… are Bobby and Rachel friends of yours?”
“Not really. Bobby worked at the ranch for a while, on community service.”
Skylar frowned. “Community service? He was arrested?”
“Yep. For horse theft.” Rawley’s grin was wry. “It’s a long story.”
Skylar studied his profile. “I have time.”
Rawley sighed and settled in his saddle. “Rachel’s mare, the Paint, was stolen by Bobby. Her stepmother surrendered the horse to a sanctuary for biting, without telling Rachel. When Rachel got home and found an empty stall, she was furious.”
Skylar narrowed her eyes. “That gentle mare wouldn’t bite without reason.”
“Exactly.” Rawley’s voice tightened. “Rachel told the agent working the case, her stepmom would hit the horse and threatened to get rid of her if she misbehaved again. So, when the mare nipped, probably frightened by another blow, the woman handed her over. No proof of abuse, so that was that.”
Skylar clenched her jaw.
“Heartbroken,” Rawley went on, “Rachel couldn’t bear it.
Bobby decided to ‘rescue’ the horse from whoever’d bought her.
He and his friend Brent Tillman broke through a fence and stole the Paint.
I worked on that case with the agent. But the new owner, Sydney Wright, insisted community service was better than prison.
Brent spent his time working at her ranch. Bobby worked here.”
“You let a horse thief work for you?”
Rawley shook his head. “I wasn’t happy about it, but the agent brought him here and I said I’d give him a chance. I just figured that my manager would have to deal with him, not me. Trust me, no one took their eyes off him, but Todd told me every day that Bobby worked his ass off.”
“Why do you call him Stringbean?”
Rawley reined his horse to a stop. “Are you serious? Didn’t you see him?”
Skylar howled with laughter. “Stringbean.” She shook her head.
“We butted heads from the start when I was helping out on the case. I teased him mercilessly. From how skinny he was to his little feet.” He laughed.
“That’s terrible,” she said with a laugh.
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen how he tried to act all big.
He was a cocky little bastard. He thought because his family had money, he was above us.
People like that need to be shown they’re not.
He thought he could intimidate me and Case.
We’d just laugh at him. But he’s a good kid.
Just made a mistake, but it did fix his attitude.
If it hadn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t let him ride on my property. ”
“I’m sure. Who’s Case?”
“Agent Case Anderson.”
They came to a marshaled line of fenceposts, horses’ hooves stirring up the scent of the dirt. Skylar exhaled slowly. “And now Rachel has her back?”
Rawley’s grin softened. “One afternoon, Rachel pleaded with Sydney to see the mare. Sydney saw how Rachel and the Paint greeted each other, knew they belonged together, and gave the horse back. Now Rachel keeps her at Sydney’s ranch and can ride whenever she wants.”
Skylar’s eyes lit up. “Sydney Wright… I met her at her bookstore in town.”
“That’s her,” Rawley chuckled. “Bookstore by day, ranch by, well, all the time. She and Case fell in love and are now engaged.”
Skylar smiled, knowing Rawley had a tough job. One that she would never be able to do, but she also knew he loved it and made a difference out there. To see him joke with Bobby after he’d stolen a horse was a testament to how he helped people.