The Discreet Cowboy (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 6) (4 page)

Fact was, he was walking now, on his own, and he’d come real far from lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming and going out of his body and docs telling him that he wouldn’t walk again. By some miracle, and through the grace of God, he was back on his feet and proving that nothing kept a determined cowboy down and out. Yet, his recovery just wasn’t going as fast as he wished. His buddy, Dodge, kept saying, “Don’t rush recovery. Let the body dictate how much time it needs to heal”. Most of the time, Dade had listened, but he wanted to be out on the land, working beside the other hands, being part of the elite group of Nirvana cowboys. They were known throughout Wyoming, and beyond, as the cowboys that all of the women wanted to meet. Dade never considered himself a sex icon, he just wanted to prove to himself, and to others, that he was capable when it came to ranching.

Instead of being on the land, he was acting as some spoiled girl’s keeper—a beautiful, spoiled girl who was well over the age of consent.

After quickly dressing, he smashed his hat lower on his head, stomped out to his Gator and headed toward the ranch garage where the company truck was parked. He had no choice but to borrow the vehicle. Usually he only took it to run errands or pick up guests from the airport, but tonight he was chasing the runaway. If he was lucky, he’d be back before anyone was the wiser.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature must have had a different plan for him. A few miles from Nirvana, the weather took a turn for the worse. He slowed the truck on the country road that he knew like the back of his hand as the rain took on a whirling pattern. He turned up the wipers to full blast, but visibility was next to nothing. 

At the bridge, he came to a complete stop. Water had already risen to the road and, from what the local weather forecaster said, they were calling for four more inches of rain before morning. He rubbed his jaw and sat back into the leather seat, listening to the swishing of the wipers. He had two options. He could turn around and head back to Nirvana. Hell, it wasn’t his fault the brat Felicia slipped away from the ranch while he was in his massage session. Or he could continue into town, taking the risk that neither he nor Felicia would make it back across the bridge before morning, or whenever the water subsided.

A thought came to him. What if she attempted to cross the flooded bridge? She wasn’t from around here and wouldn’t know how flash floods affect the area. He was taking a guess from Susie’s bedside chatter that Felicia had actually gone into town. Maybe she’d already made it back to Nirvana. Not possible, not when he hadn’t passed any cars since leaving the ranch. She couldn’t have gotten by him.

If he went home, he’d have to tell Chase that Felicia was missing.

No, thank you
.

The boss would thump his ass a good one, and Chase wasn’t one to piss off.

There was something even more pressing that bothered Dade. His boss was a good man. He’d certainly done a lot for Dade in the last year during his painful recovery. Now Chase and Kaycee had a new baby, and they deserved some time to relax and enjoy their family. Letting him down wouldn’t work for Dade. He was obligated to do what he could…even if that meant tolerating a manipulative woman.

Just a few more weeks…

She wouldn’t stay forever.

His stomach twisted. Sweat beaded on his brow.

He sure hoped she kept her clothes on.
Well, actually, he didn’t.

No more babysitting jobs for him. He’d make sure that by the time two weeks had passed and sister went bye-bye, he’d be able to walk without the use of the cane. After taking such good care of Chase’s sister—oh, Dade happily would—he’d have no choice but to put Dade back onto Nirvana working.

With one final sigh, he slowly pushed his foot into the gas pedal and carefully steered the truck across the bridge. The water rushed through the large tires, but the truck stayed steady and forward. The Dodge would take a licking and keep on ticking, not that he wanted to test the theory.

As far as Dade saw things, he faced two important issues. He had to get Felicia back to the ranch without one hair harmed on her pretty head, and he needed to get the truck returned to the garage without a scratch. Both should be easy, but he had a feeling that anything involving Felicia wouldn’t go like clockwork. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up in the unemployment line.

Worse, he’d have to go home.

Dade had left his small town looking for something, wanting to feel useful, and that’s when he found Nirvana. Although he didn’t quite fit in at first with the rough and tough cowboys who’d experienced the world, he’d earned his way up, proving his capabilities. After he’d gotten thrown from the saddle and lived to tell about it, they’d learned a new respect for him.

Growing up, he was the son of parents who’d encouraged him to play sports and do well in school because no one could take a man’s education away from him. By the time he’d graduated high school with honors, they’d just assumed he’d go off to college, maybe become a scientist or doctor, but Dade had other plans. He wanted to experience life and not be stuck inside of a classroom for another four years. They’d fought him on it, but early one morning, he’d packed his bags and took off down that country road, heading south. His parents didn’t talk to him for a while after that, but they came around eventually.

Then the accident happened and they’d tried everything to get him to come home, but he’d refused. He’d already earned his independence and knew if he went home, he’d lose all of it in one fell swoop. He’d probably still be lying in bed, allowing his mom to wait on him, babying him—incapable of realizing his resiliency. Staying here at Nirvana, surrounded by virility and life, courage and prosperity, it all made him want to do more.

He needed to stay on his own two feet. He liked working with his hands, with the animals and seeing growth. Although he was limited on what he could do, he’d been sneaking to the bull-pen and spending a lot of time with Killer Instincts, a bull saved from the rodeo. Dade understood the danger of the beast, but the challenge of socializing him was something indescribable. It gave him purpose. He got that at Nirvana and more. He had a family here, and men he called brothers. Sure, he missed his sisters, but they were all grown up, living their own lives too.

Finally making it across the bridge in one piece, he pulled onto the main road, closer to finding Felicia, hopefully.

Now he’d have to start thinking how they’d survive for the rest of the night.

****

“Want another, little lady?” the bartender asked, flashing a wide-toothed smile that probably earned him a pocketful of tip money.

“I’ll have another lime Mojito, please,” she said, sliding a ten across the pockmarked wood toward the handsome, bearded man. “Keep the change.”

He winked. “Ya know, you look like you’re adventurous. Have you ever tried a Spiked Cotton Candy?” he asked, a twinkle lighting his grey eyes.

She gave her head a shake. “Nope.”

“It’s my specialty. How about I mix you one up. You won’t be disappointed.”

“Sure. I’m up for trying something different tonight.” She smiled, but her comment wasn’t limited to drinks.

“That sounds a little dangerous.”

“Sometimes we all have to live on the edge.”

While he grabbed her drink, she whirled on her squeaky bar stool, scanning the crowd. The place was full of well-dressed cowboys—a little too well-dressed for Felicia’s taste. Growing up on a ranch around cowboys, she had what she referred to as a ‘cowboy-radar’. She could separate the ‘real’ ones from the others—those who bought their fancy button ups for looks instead of durability. She knew—and loved—cowboys. Always had a soft spot for the rough-and-tough cowpokes who wore a Stetson and Wranglers like a pro. She blamed the rodeo for her fascination. Her dad took her and Chase to an event when she was ten and she watched leather-skinned men sporting worn boots and hats, bravely climbing atop dangerous beasts in the bull-pen. She’d fallen in love with their courage and skill. Then a few years later, one of those rodeo stars she’d admired died when he was gored by the horns of a bull. She’d cried for days.

Several years ago she’d dated a cowboy, but he was much like the men here—a weekend cowboy—a whole crowd of red neck boys fit and fiddle, just missing the one thing she wanted in a man. Callused hands and nice, firm riding butt. Muscles that didn’t come from a gym, but from hard work. An unshaven jaw and dimples.
Like Dade.

Holy schmoley! What had come over her? Undress in front of a man once and she was all hot and bothered. Affected enough that she’d needed some time away. Sweat beaded between her breasts now and her heart beat against her ribs. She needed to get over this crazy, ridiculous fantasy that looped through her mind. Dade naked and touching her.

Nope, wouldn’t happen.

Couldn’t
happen.

Would he ever forgive her for taking his clothes and locking him in the room? She’d make sure he got everything back, especially his boots. A cowboy always had his favorites and by the worn look of the leather, she’d taken his best.

She gave her head a shake. She wasn’t at the honky-tonk to ponder over Dade, his boots, and his feelings. He was back at Nirvana, probably still sleeping after his massage.

A popular country song drifted from the speakers and she rolled her shoulders to the beat. She was in the mood to dance, but hadn’t spotted a single man who looked like he’d want to dance the night away.

“There you are, ma’am.”

She swiveled back around to face the bartender. He’d garnished her drink with a cherry and pineapple stuck on a red toothpick. “That’s almost too pretty to drink.” The color reminded her of the crisp, blue sky on a cloudless day—a Wyoming sky.

“By the way, I’m Mickey. I’ve owned this place for thirty years. You’re not from around here, are you?” He placed a bowl of fresh pretzels close.

“No, I’m not. That obvious, huh?” She brought the drink to her lips and took a long sip. The sweet, frizzy taste enlightened her taste buds. “Wow, that’s delicious. What’s in it?”

“Can’t tell you. Family secret.” He wagged his brows. “And I guessed you’re not from around here, well, because you’d have tried one of these drinks before if you were.” He offered her a flirty smile.  He had thick, silver-streaked, black hair, wide shoulders and a nice smile that screamed, “I work for tips”.

“I’m Felicia. And is this place usually this busy on a Friday night?”

“Nope. There’s a rodeo this weekend at the county fair. Hotels close to the fairgrounds book up fast so we get the overflow. It’s great for business and they don’t always get so rowdy, at least not on the first night of the event. You here with them?”

“No. My brother, Chase Sever, owns Nirvana Ranch. I’m visiting.”

Recognition lit his eyes. “I know Chase…good fellow. A few months back he donated his time and money to help rebuild a home for a local family who lost everything in a fire. Glad to see he’s doing well for himself out there on that ranch with his new wife and child. I’m happy for him, happy for the business he brings around these parts, although we don’t see many guests. When you’re at paradise, who wants to wander too far?”

She shrugged. “I guess I tend to push my boundaries.”

“Well, you stay close. These tenderfoots aren’t too bad, but sometimes they get drunk and think they’re studs.” He winked. “Tell your brother when he gets a chance to stop by. I have the number for the owner of the Appaloosa he was interested in buying.”

“Sure will.” Chase was a respected man here in Wyoming and she couldn’t agree more—he was a great man. She was pretty happy for him these days too. A prospering business, a lovely, sweet wife, and a new baby. Felicia loved being an aunt. Nirvana, and her brother, had seemed like the perfect place to hang out before she started her career. Now if she could just get her brother to back off and stop being so insanely protective over her. She was no longer the kid who he was obligated to watch over.

With her drink in hand and straw between her lips, she spun on the barstool, looking over the growing crowd with curiosity. Why was it that in every bar the men outnumbered the women three-to-one? And these boys seemed far more interested in the bottoms of their bottles than the fact that she’d gotten all dolled up to impress. Tugging at her tight-fitting black dress, she realized she might have overdone it a bit, or a lot, especially with the three inch, strappy heels. She’d forgotten she wasn’t in Cheyenne, but she was in small town country.

When she got the chance, she liked to wear something sexy, feminine. Growing up, she’d been a tomboy. Oversized clothes, baseball hat and dirty tennis shoes had been her everyday attire, except for church Sundays when her mom made her wear pretty dresses and polished shoes. Back then, she’d grumbled every time her momma placed a ribbon in her hair, and now she saw the need in putting on something ladylike for special occasions.

This evening—this vacation—marked a new beginning for her. As she embarked on her new start in life, she wanted to enjoy one last evening feeling footloose and fancy-free before she stepped out into adulthood, real adulthood, where car and house payments were a priority. Hanging with her friends would happen occasionally, but work came first, when she found a job. Of course she’d find one. She’d graduated top of her class.

At this moment, she was in the mood to have fun, in a place where no one knew her name. A place like this was the right place to do just that.