Josh Page 13

  She watched as he sauntered away.

  And wondered at the lightness around her heart.

  Sierra and Cheyenne loaded trays with dirty dishes and hauled them to the kitchen, where Phoebe and Ela had already begun to wash and dry.

  Cheyenne set down her tray and gently nudged Phoebe from the sink. “You’ve done enough. I’ll wash.”

  Following her lead, Sierra reached for Ela’s towel. “You join Phoebe at the table and eat, while I dry.”

  “I ate,” the old woman said in protest.

  “Then have some of that fantastic pie,” Sierra said with a laugh. “Before Cheyenne and I eat the whole thing.”

  Laughing, Phoebe set the kettle on the stove and began slicing the pie, setting the slices on pretty plates.

  While the two younger women worked their way through a mountain of dishes, Phoebe and Ela sipped hot tea and sampled the desserts.

  Sierra dried a platter. “I can’t believe the amount of food the two of you managed to prepare today.”

  “We do it every year at roundup,” Phoebe remarked.

  Ela nodded. “It is as natural as breathing. Spring calving, fall roundup, we cook all day so the wranglers can keep up their strength.”

  “When is it your turn to get pampered?” Sierra asked.

  The two women looked at her with matching arched brows.

  “Now why would we need pampering?” Phoebe topped off Ela’s cup, and then her own.

  Sierra set the platter in a cupboard and turned. “Everybody needs a little pampering now and then.”

  Phoebe shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what to do if I had a day off. I’m much more comfortable with hard work.”

  Sierra nudged Cheyenne. “I think, when things settle down here, we ought to take Phoebe and Ela into town and show them how to relax.”

  “What would we do to fill an entire day away from here?” Phoebe, clearly intrigued, shot a smile at Ela.

  “We could start with lunch at Flora’s Diner,” Cheyenne said. “And get all the latest gossip.”

  Phoebe and Ela chuckled.

  “And we could find a salon and get our hair done. And maybe a manicure and pedicure, while we’re there.”

  “Paint our toes?” Ela laughed right out loud.

  “You wouldn’t have to get them painted, if you didn’t want to. But once you had your feet soaked in warm, scented water, and then maybe a foot massage, you’d find out how much you can love being pampered.”

  At Sierra’s words, both Phoebe and Ela put their hands to their mouths to cover their laughter.

  Cheyenne drained the water from the sink and turned. “That settles it. I believe it’s our duty to take the two of you into town and treat you to a day off.”

  Sierra nodded. “And since you spent all day on your feet, I think we should do it tomorrow.”

  She looked from Phoebe to Ela, and could see that, though they were offering mild protests, their eyes were sparkling. She turned to Cheyenne. “Do you have a number for a salon in Paintbrush?”

  “I do.” Cheyenne dropped an arm around Sierra’s shoulders. “I’ll call right now and see what time they can take us tomorrow.”

  When Cheyenne and Sierra turned to the two older women for confirmation, they were pleased to see both of them nodding in agreement.

  “Done.” Sierra said.

  She and Cheyenne shook hands, then burst into fits of laughter.

  “Oh,” Cheyenne said as she poured herself a cup of tea. “This is going to be such fun.”

  Sierra walked through the mudroom and stepped out onto the back porch to stare at the spectacular sunset. Ribbons of red and mauve and pink streaked high above the peaks of the Tetons, where the sun, now a ball of fire, hovered.

  Working with Cheyenne and Phoebe and Ela in the kitchen had been as satisfying as the hard, physical work she’d shared in the barns with Josh and his brothers.

  These women were so easy to be around. Phoebe was fun and funny, with a surprising sense of humor. Old Ela’s sharp eye and even sharper mind was a delight. It was easy to see why the Conway men were able to concentrate on the many demands of a ranch of this size, when they had such wise and capable women working behind the scenes to make their lives as easy and uncomplicated as possible.

  She had once remarked that the Conway men were spoiled by such good help in their home. Now their women would get their opportunity to be equally spoiled. She couldn’t wait to spend tomorrow with Phoebe, Ela, and Cheyenne.

  The wranglers had pocketed their paychecks and had left for town in a caravan of vehicles. Trucks, cars, vans, and even a motorcycle had roared away, leaving the house and the land strangely silent.

  Eager to see as much as she could, Sierra wandered past the corrals where the cattle, fed and watered, were now quiet, except for the occasional lowing. Moving on, with no particular destination in mind, she climbed the hill behind the horse barns, her mind whirling with all the wonderful things she’d witnessed this day.

  As she came up over the ridge, she caught sight of Big Jim, standing with his hand on a tall stone. In the stillness of evening she could hear his voice, and wondered who he was talking to.

  She moved closer. Not wanting to disturb him, she paused and peered around.

  Forming a semicircle around the tall stone were five smaller stones.

  Headstones.

  As the knowledge struck, Sierra’s heart nearly stopped.

  “… was roundup, Clemmy. You’d have loved it. Those grandsons of ours make me so damned proud. They can work circles around the best wranglers on this ranch.”

  As Big Jim’s words washed over her, she looked around helplessly, wishing she could leave him to his privacy. She had no right to be here, intruding on such an intimate scene. But it was too late. She would die before she would disturb him now. So, rather than draw attention to herself, she remained in the shadows and hoped he wouldn’t realize that she was here eavesdropping.

  Big Jim laid a big, callused hand on the headstone, as though stroking it. “You know how I used to complain about there being no females around here? At least none since Cole’s Seraphine went missing. Oh, I know that Phoebe and Ela help balance it some, but we’re in need of more. There they are, those three handsome sons of Cole, who’d rather chase wolves or climb mountains than settle down. Well, just when Quinn got Cupid’s arrow through his heart and fell hard for Cheyenne, now I’m seeing Josh wearing his heart on his sleeve over a certain young lady he brought back from the mountain.” He gave a low, throaty chuckle. “I like her. A lot. So would you. She reminds me of you, Clemmy darlin’. She’s honest and direct. A free spirit with a mind all her own.”

  Sierra’s eyes widened in the lengthening shadows. Big Jim liked her?

  A wild thrill of pleasure shot like an arrow through her heart.

  The old man set a plate on the ground, beside the headstone. “I brought you a slice of Phoebe’s apple pie. I know this just invites the wild critters to swarm all over here when I leave you these things, but I can’t help it. It makes me smile just thinking about the way you and I always loved sharing our favorite foods. You know what I miss? The way you always took the first taste of my dessert and then you’d tell me whether or not I’d like it. I don’t recall a single time when you were wrong. You knew my taste better’n I knew it myself.”

  He straightened and touched a big hand to the headstone. His voice softened. “’Night, darlin’. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

  He turned and strode quickly away, without a backward glance.

  When he was gone, Sierra walked closer to read the names and dates on the headstone and then on the smaller stones.

  Big Jim’s wife and five sons. All buried here on this lovely rise overlooking their land. All these years later, he still came around to talk over his day with his beloved wife.

  What would it be like to love someone that much? To be loved that completely?

  Even her parents, who proclaimed their love for her, had neve
r displayed that sort of devotion. She doubted they were capable of such deep, honest emotions. She had always come in second behind her parents’ relentless pursuit of their own pleasures.

  A sob caught in Sierra’s throat, and she slumped to her knees on the ground.

  Moments later she heard footsteps. Before she could compose herself, Josh loomed out of the darkness and dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Hey. What’s wrong? What happened?” His voice lowered with anger. “Did you get another message from that bastard?”

  She looked at him, tears welling up to spill over and run in little rivers down her cheeks. It was a struggle to find her voice. “No. I’m not crying over Sebastian.”

  “Who then?” He cupped her chin in his hand and stared angrily at the tears she couldn’t hide. “Whoever made you cry will answer to me.”

  “It’s…” She lifted a hand to swipe at the tears. “I didn’t mean to be here. I didn’t realize…” She spread her hands to indicate the headstones. “I overheard your grandfather talking…” She sucked in a breath to stifle the sobs that threatened.

  “Ah.” Josh said the word in one long, low sigh as the truth dawned. “Clemmy. My grandmother. Big Jim’s sweet darlin’ Clementine. She was the great love of his life. His one and only. He stops by whenever he can to share his day with her.”

  “That’s just so…” Her lips quivered and she knew she was going to embarrass herself by starting to weep again. “Oh, Josh. That’s just so sweet. And so heartbreaking.”

  “Yeah.” With great tenderness he stood and drew her up and into his arms, holding her close while she wept against his chest, dampening the front of his shirt.

  When at last the tears had run their course, she pushed a little away. Josh offered her his handkerchief.

  “Thanks.” She blew her nose and wiped away the tears before gripping it tightly in her hand while she stared at the headstones. “I’ve never known a love like that. I didn’t even know such a love was possible. It’s… a little overwhelming.”

  “Yeah. It’s special. I guess, growing up with it, I sometimes take it for granted.”

  They stood together for long, silent minutes, letting the peace of the night wash over them.

  Seeing how deeply touched she was, Josh turned away, drawing her with him. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Keeping his arm around her shoulders he leaned close to whisper, “I don’t know. But we need to get away from here. I don’t know about you, but it’s got me in a strange mood.”

  She sniffed. “Me, too.”

  “Where would you like to go?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care. Anywhere, I guess. Your choice.”

  “Now that’s living dangerously, woman. Maybe I’ll take you to the barn”—he wiggled his brows like a cartoon villain—“and have my way with you.”

  She started laughing. It felt so good to be able to laugh again after that heart-tugging scene she’d just witnessed.

  Josh was right. She was in a strange mood. Strange and solemn, as though she’d witnessed something almost religious.

  And now, with Josh beside her, her heart felt as light as air.

  Feeling reckless, she leaned into him, her head dipping to his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his waist as they meandered through the tall grass. “Maybe I’ll just let you have your way with me.”

  She was still laughing as she tilted her head and looked up at him.

  What she saw there had the laughter dying in her throat. His eyes, hot and fierce, told her, as plainly as any words, that what had started out as a joke had suddenly become something much more.

  His tone was gruff. “I hope you mean what you just said.”

  She fell silent before whispering, “I do.” It was all she could manage from a throat that suddenly felt as dry as dust.

  “Well, then…”

  His steps were no longer aimless but purposeful as he led her toward the barn looming in the distance.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Josh kept his arm firmly around Sierra’s shoulders as he made his way unerringly toward the barn. Once there he led her through the open doorway and paused just inside the dim, cavernous building, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.

  He drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to her temple. “That was the longest walk of my life.”

  Laughing, she lifted her face to him, brushing her mouth over his. “It was the same for me.”

  “That’s a relief. I’m glad these feelings aren’t one-sided. Now let me…” His big hands were just framing her face when he heard his father’s voice from a nearby stall.

  “Well, you two. Just in time. I was thinking about looking for you.” He gave a final pat to his horse and stepped out of the stall, closing the door behind him.

  “What for?” Josh lifted his face. A face that was now as dark as thundercloud.

  Sierra’s look was equally frustrated.

  “Thought I’d head into town and have a couple of beers with the boys at the Watering Hole. No sense letting them have all the fun.”

  “You go ahead, Pa. Enjoy the night.”

  Cole wasn’t about to be dismissed so lightly. “Now son, I was hoping you’d agree to be my designated driver.”

  Josh gave a sigh of disgust. How could he possibly refuse such a request? His father asked so little of his sons. And though Cole wasn’t much of a drinking man, he was wise enough to take along a driver if he thought he’d need one.

  Josh looked down into Sierra’s face and thought about refusing. This wasn’t just an inconvenience; it was a real sacrifice. “I guess, if you really need me…”

  “I’ll go, too.” Sierra squeezed his hand.

  “You don’t have to,” Cole warned. “This could prove to be a long, rowdy night.”

  “Really?” She gave a delighted laugh. “Well then, that settles it. I have to go along, just so the two of you don’t have all the fun.”

  “Good girl.” Cole stepped between Josh and Sierra, looping his arms through theirs. “We’ll have us some kind of fun, all right.”

  As he led them from the barn, Josh nearly groaned aloud.

  He’d been this close to heaven. And now, instead of a night to remember, he’d been suckered into babysitting his dear old dad.

  The little town of Paintbrush was hopping. Cars, trucks, and vans were parked up and down the main street, and spilling over into the public parking area behind the courthouse and even into the Paintbrush church’s parking area.

  To take advantage of all the potential customers, Flora had added tables and chairs on a little patch of concrete outside the door of her diner. Inside and out, every table and chair was filled, and Dora was being assisted in serving by two of her nieces, who were flirting shamelessly with the customers.

  Farther down the street, the Watering Hole, the ancient Paintbrush saloon, was nearly bursting at the seams with thirsty cowboys.

  Josh pulled up at the curb and deposited his father and Sierra, before driving on to find a parking space behind Dr. April Walton’s clinic.

  When he stepped into the saloon a few minutes later, the twang of country music had been amped up so it could be heard above the chorus of voices. The familiar chest-thumping, heart-stomping sound rolled over him in waves.

  He looked around and found Cole and Sierra seated at a table in the middle of the room. As he attempted to thread his way between clusters of cowboys talking, laughing, and swearing, he was forced to stop and exchange greetings with all of them. He edged between tables big enough for four but now filled with six, eight, or more, all frisky cowboys with eager young women from town seated on their laps or draped around them. Judging by the beers that littered the tabletops, none of them would go home thirsty. And he doubted that any of them would go home alone.

  “About time you got here.” Cole shoved a longneck toward Josh as he took a seat beside Sierra.

  “I’m driving, remember?” Josh slid the
bottle toward Sierra and signaled the waitress over. After ordering a tall iced tea, he sat back and stared around at the crowd.

  “Looks like a lot of happy people here,” Sierra remarked.

  “They won’t be so happy in the morning.” Josh winked at her. “Let me rephrase that. Some of them will be very happy, especially all those wives waiting for their long-absent husbands.”

  “Not to mention their husbands’ paychecks,” Cole muttered.

  Josh nodded. “But a lot more of these customers will be nursing hangovers for the next week.”

  “Ouch.” Sierra laughed and sipped her longneck. “I guess I’ll switch to what you’re drinking after this one.”

  “Speaking of which…” Cole signaled the waitress and ordered another beer.

  When he looked at Sierra she shook her head. “One’s my limit.”

  He smiled. “Me, too. Except for tonight. We’re celebrating.” He accepted another beer from the waitress and drank nearly half the bottle in one long chug before turning to Sierra. “What did you think of your first roundup?”

  “I loved it. It was everything I’d ever thought it would be. The sea of cattle. The wranglers keeping the strays in line. The horses working with their riders like a team.” In her excitement she placed a hand over Cole’s. “I still can’t believe I got to witness it up close. And all thanks to you.”

  He closed his other hand over hers. “I can see that it really meant a lot to you.”

  “It was like a dream come true. Like something out of a movie. I couldn’t believe I was really there, experiencing it in the flesh.”

  He glanced over at Josh. “You know who Sierra reminds me of?”

  Josh arched a brow.

  “Your mother.” He turned to Sierra. “You would have loved my Seraphine.”

  “I’m sure I would. Tell me about her.”

  That was all the encouragement Cole needed. That, and the beer he’d already consumed.

  He sat back, long legs stretched out, his eyes warm with memories. “She was tall, slim, with this fantastic long hair that would be blonde one day, black the next, and red a day later. I loved being surprised by her. No matter what color she dyed it, she was a real knockout.” Cole shook his head. “Of course, Big Jim warned me that we were all wrong for each other, and he was right. I was a cowboy, all rough edges, fresh off the range. She was city born and bred, touring with a dance troupe. I took one look at her and I was a goner. I mean head-over-heels gone. And I guess I caught her in a weak moment. She was sick and tired of touring from town to town, living like a gypsy, she called it, and the thought of settling down on a big Wyoming ranch, far away from people, sounded like her idea of heaven.” He laughed. “Until she got a taste of the isolation.”