The Trouble With Cowboys (6 page)
With a labored grunt, he wrenched his lips from hers and propped his arm against the wall behind her, panting. She opened her eyes, expecting triumph in his expression, but all she saw was a raw heat that matched her own.
“I’ll pick you up Friday at six.”
Scooping his belt and hat from the ground, he walked away, listing a bit. She felt a stab of vanity for inducing that drunk walk. Then she asked herself what Jesus would do about temptation and sobered up in a hurry. Jesus would not give in to baser instincts because some cowboy was an amazing kisser and looked great in a pair of jeans.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched in the direction of the supermarket. Hopefully, when Jenna picked her up, she wouldn’t ask why her lips were swollen.
Chapter 4
Vaughn poked at the plate on his lap with a knife. “Lisa, why is there greenery on this cheese? I don’t have to eat it, do I? You know how I feel about greenery.”
Lisa took the plate from him and untied the string holding the leaf in place. “It’s something new we’re trying at the dairy, wrapping goat cheese in grape leaves to age it. You’re my testers.”
Kellan poured salsa into a bowl, tucked a bag of chips under his arm, and strolled to the living room, taking stock of the perfect picture before him—the Christmas tree that had taken him over an hour to select from the tree lot in Clovis, the fire crackling in the fireplace, and everyone he loved crowded onto his overstuffed sofa, save for Daisy and Max, who were out front playing fetch.
He handed a beer to Chris, who was snuggled deep into the sofa cushions with a sleeping Rowen on his shoulder. “I don’t see how you’ve survived this long with your eating habits, Vaughn.”
Lisa set the plate of unwrapped cheese on the table and reached into her bag for a second wedge of cheese. “Yes, well, he’d better shape up because someday he’s going to have a wife who insists he eat his veggies.”
“If I ever find a woman lucky enough to snag me as a husband, she sure as hell’s not going to force-feed me greenery. I am not livestock. Pigheaded yes, built like a stallion, absolutely, but there’s a difference.”
Lisa handed him a cheese-topped cracker. “Try it.”
Vaughn complied, stuffing the entire cracker into his mouth at an angle. He hummed in appreciation and flashed a thumbs-up to Lisa, then reached for a second cracker. “You think city folks have any idea how gourmet we country hicks can be? I’m sitting here eating some of the best cheese ever produced, about to have a steak dinner grilled for me by one of the top beef purveyors in the nation.”
Chris snorted. “And what do you add to the party, Cooper?”
“Entertainment,” Lisa and Kellan said at the same time.
Kellan chuckled and settled on the sofa to watch the last few minutes of the quarter before he got busy grilling steaks at half-time. Having the gang over on Sunday afternoon was his favorite time of the week. He loved every minute of it—talking football with Chris, Lisa setting up a plate of cheeses from Binderman Dairy, and Vaughn doing his fake-machismo act. He loved Daisy’s squeals of delight filtering in through the window and Rowen’s occasional yawn or hungry cry.
He never experienced that growing up, not even when his mom and dad had the same day off work. They were too world-weary to do much more than lie around and smoke weed. Holding a family dinner, much less entertaining friends, had been out of the question. Even his brief stint in a foster home, as loving as his foster parents had been, hadn’t satisfied his craving for family, for
warmth
. It was an absence that registered in his bones more like a loss, one he’d been working to make up for the better part of his life.
warmth
. It was an absence that registered in his bones more like a loss, one he’d been working to make up for the better part of his life.
Vaughn rapped Kellan on the knee with his knuckles. “Heard you invited Amy Sorentino here yesterday.”
Lisa looked up, an incredulous grin playing on her lips. “I saw you two talking at the doughnut table this morning. Her sister, Jenna, told me you gave her a bag of celery. Really?”
There was going to be no getting around this conversation, Kellan could tell. He could deny an attraction to Amy until his face turned blue, but his closest friends wouldn’t buy a word of it. “Onions too.”
Vaughn tipped the neck of his beer in Kellan’s direction. “I’m betting he bagged more than her groceries.”
There was a collective groan from the room.
“You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”
“Nope,” all three of his friends chimed in.
“If that’s the way you’re going to be, then I suppose it’s my obligation to set the record straight.” Kellan leaned his elbows on his knees, cleared his throat, and waited for their undivided attention. “I do not appreciate the implication that Amy Sorentino is anything less than a lady. At all times. That you would besmirch the Sorentino family name with such a flagrant rumor is insulting—”
“Did you say
besmirch?
” Vaughn cut in.
besmirch?
” Vaughn cut in.
“Yes, I did say ‘besmirch.’ Weren’t you all in church this morning? Is this any way for good Christians to think? Shame on you all and your filthy minds.”
Lisa let out a low whistle. “You dog.”
Vaughn burst out laughing, “I don’t know how you do it, man. You’re my hero.”
Daisy and Max came bounding into the room. Vaughn snagged her hand. “Daisy, when I grow up, I want to be just like your uncle Kellan.”
She gave him a bright smile. “Me too. Then I could ride Pickle all the time.”
Kellan raised his hand for attention. “I don’t want this spread around, but today after church, I asked Amy to dinner.”
“Against my advice,” Chris added.
Kellan held his hand up. “Let the record show I asked her out against Chris’s advice. Happy now?”
“Not really. Did she agree this time?”
“Not at first. She declined my offer twice. But I finally brought her around to my way of thinking.”
Lisa patted Kellan’s knee. “I wouldn’t take her refusal too personally. Those Sorentino sisters have a lot on their plates, with their mom’s poor health and their money troubles.”
“Money troubles?” That caught Kellan’s attention. “I haven’t heard mention of her finances, only of the restaurant Amy’s opening at their farm.”
Chris shifted Rowen to his other arm and sat up straighter. “She and Lisa have an appointment this week at the dairy. She wants to contract with Binderman Dairy, which I think is great.”
“True, and I’m happy to do business with the Sorentinos,” Lisa said, “but word is the restaurant and inn they’re opening are a last-ditch effort to save their farm from foreclosure. My cousin Isabel, who works for the bank in Albuquerque, said Amy, Rachel, and Jenna were in a few months ago applying for loans and meeting with a foreclosure agent. I bet their mom’s care is bleeding their bank accounts something terrible.”
Dread rippled through Kellan. Sorentino Farm was on the verge of foreclosure? A terrible possibility took shape in his mind as he thought of the manila folder hidden above his refrigerator. If Amy and her sisters were the subjects of an Amarex lawsuit, a personal relationship with her would not only be unethical, but against Kellan’s moral code. And if she discovered his link to the company fighting to squeeze her family out of their home . . .
Oh, man, he couldn’t even think about how she’d react. He choked down a swig of beer, fighting the urge to rip open the file and assuage his rising anxiety.
“What about royalties from oil leasing rights?” Chris asked. “Amarex contracts keep most of the ranches and farms around here afloat. Including ours.”
Chris’s question put his mind at ease. No way could Amy and her sisters be the victims of his uncle’s latest bullying attempt. The very reason they were in financial trouble rendered the possibility of Amarex’s interest in purchasing the land unthinkable.
He shook his head and relaxed back into the sofa cushion. “The Sorentino land is as dry as mine. Both are Quay County anomalies. No crude oil underground to be had. And you can bet your bottom dollar Amarex has explored every inch of both our properties in search of a source.” Probably, he should’ve tried to sound less joyous about that. “I read the reports on Amarex’s contract negotiations with Gerald Sorentino years ago because the guy was too cheap to spring for a lawyer to look out for his interests—exactly the sort of stupid choice Amarex salivates over. Exploration crews scoured his land and came up empty. No oil, no lease money.”
Lisa sighed. “What horrible luck that family’s had. It’s a shame Amy didn’t fare better on
Ultimate Chef Showdown.
The winner took home three hundred grand. Did you watch it, Kellan?”
Ultimate Chef Showdown.
The winner took home three hundred grand. Did you watch it, Kellan?”
“Nah. You know me; I don’t have much use for television. But I remember hearing a lot of chatter that the competition didn’t go well for her.”
Vaughn winced. “That’s putting it mildly. A word of advice? Don’t bring up the show during your date. It wasn’t Amy’s most flattering moment. But here’s what people don’t know—her dad, Gerald, died a matter of days before
Chef Showdown
began filming. And the episode she lost her marbles on was after her mom’s collapse. She never allowed anyone on the show to mention it—didn’t want people’s sympathy vote—but those are the facts.”
Chef Showdown
began filming. And the episode she lost her marbles on was after her mom’s collapse. She never allowed anyone on the show to mention it—didn’t want people’s sympathy vote—but those are the facts.”
Chris shook his head. “Man, that’s rough.”
“How do you know all that?” Lisa asked.
Vaughn peeled the label on his bottle, looking uncomfortable. “I spent a lot of time at Sorentino Farm during the investigation into Gerald’s car crash, then Bethany’s breakdown. In my job, you learn people’s secrets. Most of them aren’t of the positive variety.”
Kellan’s jaw clamped shut and refused to budge. Impotent frustration coursed through him, thinking about what Amy and her family had gone through. She deserved so much better than the hand she’d been dealt.
“I see the wheels turning in your head, Kellan,” Chris said. “What gives?”
“I’m working hard to keep myself from driving to her house with my checkbook and taking charge.”
Vaughn scoffed. “If you tried, I’d probably get called out to arrest you.”
“That’s why I’m still here.”
“Well, I think it’s a good thing you’re having dinner with Amy,” Lisa said. Rowen stirred with a dissatisfied whimper and she scooped him from Chris’s shoulder. “Maybe a night out is what the lady needs to take her mind off her worries.”
“I doubt that,” Chris grumbled.
Kellan stood and walked to the glass door of his deck, looking at the rolling acres of desert chaparral dotted with cattle. A kick of dust on the nearest slope told him someone had driven the dirt road leading to his property. The doorbell chimed.
Vaughn pushed up and strolled toward the door like he owned the place. “Expecting someone?” He peered through the peephole.
“Nope.”
Vaughn drew a sharp breath and slunk to the far end of the room, swabbing a hand over his face. “You answer, Kellan. It’s your house.”
Kellan eyed his friend suspiciously and opened the door to Rachel Sorentino. Despite the chilly weather, she wore a short-sleeved T-shirt and her hair was damp, like she’d come straight over after taking a shower. She shared Amy’s doe-shaped brown eyes and freckled, pert nose, but though both women were easy on the eyes, the two sisters gave off completely different vibes. Rachel acted and looked every inch the no-nonsense, born-and-raised cowgirl she was, from her athletic build and darkly tanned skin to her work boots and blunt fingernails.
“Rachel, what a surprise. Come on in.” He held the door wide open for her to pass.
“Sorry to stop by unannounced like this, but I need a word with you—” She spied Vaughn and ground to a halt. “Sheriff Cooper.”
“Miss Sorentino,” Vaughn said softly, folding his arms over his chest.
Kellan looked to Chris, a brow raised in question, baffled by Vaughn and Rachel’s formality. Chris responded with a shrug of confusion.
With what seemed like tremendous effort, Rachel pulled her gaze from Vaughn and turned to Kellan. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”
“How about the porch?”
“Works for me.”
“You want a beer?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Glancing sideways at Vaughn, who still looked shell-shocked by Rachel’s sudden appearance, Kellan snagged a beer from the fridge and ushered her out the door. She’d never been to his ranch before, as far as he could recall, and he couldn’t imagine a single reason for her to visit unannounced on a Sunday afternoon.
Bottle in hand, she walked the porch like she was checking to ensure every window was closed. Kellan’s curiosity mounting, he kept quiet, giving her time to check the windows and collect her thoughts.
Sitting on his porch, watching Rachel’s agitated pacing, he realized she was the only member of the Sorentino family who wasn’t a Catcher Creek gossip staple. In all the years he’d lived there, he’d never once heard tell of Rachel whooping it up at bars or rodeos, or even church socials. They ran into each other every now and then, at feed stores or livestock auctions, and she was pleasant enough, but aloof. Typical solitary rancher so common in the sprawling, untamed wilderness of Eastern New Mexico.
When Kellan rolled into Catcher Creek fourteen years ago, a scruffy, dirt poor twenty-year-old with a chip on his shoulder the size of a meteor, he’d steered clear of women for a while, particularly the young, jail-baiting set like the Sorentino sisters had been at the time. But still, he’d borne witness to plenty of the youngest sister, Jenna’s, raucous partying. That is, until she got pregnant at nineteen and settled down on the family farm. Four years later and folks still whispered their theories about Tommy Sorentino’s mystery daddy and why he hadn’t stepped up to his responsibility.
Amy had dropped off the radar for years—and, frankly, Kellan had forgotten she existed—until the
Ultimate Chef Showdown
fiasco lit up the gossip circuit like a lightning storm. About the same time, their mother, Bethany, succumbed to a series of very public breakdowns, including one Kellan witnessed at Walmart, followed by a mysterious health crisis many folks believed to be the result of a botched suicide attempt. But not one of them, not Bethany or even Jenna during her wild days, had anything on the stories told of their drunk, gambling, good-timing father.
Ultimate Chef Showdown
fiasco lit up the gossip circuit like a lightning storm. About the same time, their mother, Bethany, succumbed to a series of very public breakdowns, including one Kellan witnessed at Walmart, followed by a mysterious health crisis many folks believed to be the result of a botched suicide attempt. But not one of them, not Bethany or even Jenna during her wild days, had anything on the stories told of their drunk, gambling, good-timing father.
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