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Come Home, Cowboy. Cathy McdavidЧитать онлайн книгу.

Come Home, Cowboy - Cathy Mcdavid


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you can’t imagine. Not unless it happens to you, which I pray to God it doesn’t.” Spinning, she stood on her tiptoes, her hands gripping Hurry Up’s mane like a lifeline, and stared Josh in the face. “Now, if you please, leave me alone. I don’t need your help and I sure as heck don’t crave your company.”

      He stepped back, she thought more to give her space than because she’d intimidated him. Someone like Josh Dempsey didn’t scare easily. If that were the case, he and his brother Cole would have left after the first week when Gabe had made it clear they weren’t welcome.

      August Dempsey’s three sons didn’t get along. No surprise. August had many fine qualities and had been a remarkable human being. But he’d also made a lot of mistakes in his life before succumbing to colon cancer at an early age. His greatest one had been driving a wedge between his two legitimate sons and the one he had out of wedlock. His last act before dying had been an attempt to reconcile them. So far, it hadn’t worked.

      The brothers might be living and working together, and though they sometimes got along, they weren’t close.

      “I’m sorry I upset you,” Josh said.

      Cara turned her back to him, leaned against Hurry Up, who had yet to move, and squeezed her eyes shut. This day couldn’t get any worse. “I’m going to ask you one more time to leave me alone.”

      “I will, but you need to come with me first.” He spoke softly, yet insistently.

      “You don’t say.” The idea was ludicrous. “And why’s that?”

      “Some of your mustangs are loose. They broke through the fence and are in section eight.”

      “I see.” Horses mingling with cattle in and of itself wasn’t so bad. Horses eating grass reserved for the cattle was cause for action.

      Weathercasters across the state were calling the current conditions—rain only once in the past four months—a drought. As a result, grazing land across Arizona was at a premium, especially at Dos Estrellas, where the naturally craggy and rocky hills resisted vegetation. Lack of available grass was also the motivation behind Josh and Cole wanting the land their father had bequeathed Cara. They were already short on money, and supplemental feed in the midst of a drought was expensive.

      “I’m willing to round up the horses and return them to the sanctuary,” Josh offered. “Cole’s already on his way.”

      As if she’d allow that to happen. Josh probably thought he knew everything about rounding up horses simply because he was a former rodeo champion.

      “Not on your life.” She didn’t wait. Grabbing the reins, she raced toward the gate, pulling the small horse behind her. For once, he kept up.

      At the stable, she tethered Hurry Up to the hitching post, where he would wait quietly for her return. Then, fishing in her jacket pocket, she retrieved her keys and rushed to where she’d parked her Jeep.

      No sooner did she climb in than the Jeep rocked beneath her. Another person had thrown himself into the passenger seat.

      Josh Dempsey. He was harder to get rid of than a case of poison ivy. And just as irritating.

      “What are you doing?” she demanded.

      He buckled his seat belt. “Going with you.”

      It was then she noticed the coiled rope he balanced on his lap.

      “Why bring that along?” She nodded at the rope while turning the ignition key. The Jeep roared to life.

      “Figured it may come in handy.”

      Short of physically ejecting him from the vehicle, which was a near impossibility considering he had a good seven inches on her, she was stuck with him.

      Silently fuming, she backed up the Jeep, shifted and hit the gas. They skidded on the hard ground as she accelerated, then bounced roughly along the uneven dirt road leading from the ranch and into the hills. Every few minutes, Cara glanced at Josh. He stared stoically ahead, one hand holding his hat in place, the other hanging on to the grab bar.

      Only when they reached the outskirts of section eight did Cara realize it had been a full fifteen minutes since she’d thought about Javier.

      * * *

      AT THE TOP of a rocky rise, Cara downshifted and brought the Jeep to a stop. Josh spotted Violet, Dos Estrellas’ livestock manager, and Joey, a young hand with a goofy smile and an aw-shucks personality, attempting to temporarily repair the break in the fence with wire, wooden planks and a pair of pliers.

      Josh, however, was far more interested in Cara. She was an enigma. One minute, usually when she was with his half brother Gabe or Gabe’s mother, Raquel, Cara was sweet natured and friendly, though quiet. Around Josh or Cole, she became a different person. Cool to the point of being rude.

      Josh tolerated her treatment of him, though he didn’t like it. She was fiercely loyal to Gabe and Raquel, as well as to Josh’s late father, something Josh admired. She no doubt saw him and Cole as a threat. Possibly even the enemy.

      None of that stopped him from studying her at every opportunity, however. He thought about her at random moments during the day and wondered how he might breach her defenses.

      But to what end? With his two kids arriving at the end of next week and single fatherhood in his immediate future, he was hardly in a position to consider dating anyone, especially an emotionally wounded woman like Cara. Josh liked a challenge as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t about to tackle the impossible.

      That aside, she intrigued him, and not just because of her exotic beauty and knockout figure. He wished he had known her before her son had died. Seen the attractive spark in her dark eyes and hear the laughter he suspected was once there in her sultry voice.

      Cara turned in her seat to face him. “Well?”

      He decided he could take her question one of two ways. She might be asking his opinion on what to do next. The horses, fifty or more, were stretched out over a quarter mile in the ravine below, eating grass or standing and staring at the human intruders, their manes and tails blowing in the cold January wind. She could also be expecting him to vacate the Jeep, having delivered him to their destination.

      He leaned toward the latter. She was wearing that scowl, after all, the one she constantly affected in his presence. For fun, he decided to go with the former, if simply to get a rise out of her.

      “Drive closer,” he said and lifted his rope.

      “What exactly are you planning?”

      “Getting those horses back onto sanctuary land.”

      She didn’t move. “How?”

      He retrieved his leather gloves from his duster pocket and put them on. Slowly.

      Her scowl deepened, though it didn’t detract from her loveliness.

      “Well?” she demanded again.

      “I’m going to rope the black.”

      She crossed her arms over her middle. “Do tell.”

      “Then we’ll lead him back to the sanctuary. The other horses will follow.”

      “I’d like to see that.” She didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm.

      “Good.” He adjusted the coiled rope, sliding it between his gloved fingers, liking the familiar feel. “Because you’re going to drive the Jeep up beside him so I can throw this rope around his neck.”

      “You’re joking.”

      “I’m open to a better suggestion.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “We can get my brothers and a few more hands on horseback. Or round up the mustangs with the quads, though that might cause a stampede.”

      He could see by her creased brow she disliked that idea. Probably too reminiscent of how the mustangs were captured


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