Her Unexpected Cowboy (Unforgettable Cowboys Book 1) Page 2

  “Why don’t you want me to call the sheriff?”

  “I don’t know.” He leaned forward and met her with those intensely green eyes. Her insides melted, burning in a deep fire. “It doesn’t feel right. I know that sounds crazy, but I just can’t place it. I just know I shouldn’t involve local law enforcement.”

  Local law enforcement? Who talks like that? She shrugged.

  If this guy had something to hide, surely he would have spun some elaborate tale. Her shoulders relaxed as tension eased from her. She didn’t really want to deal with Wil tonight anyway. Besides, what harm could this man do sleeping with Pearl and Josie? Though if their time comes, he wouldn’t be getting much sleep. Neither of them would.

  “I’ll get a blanket.” She rose and stashed the gun next to the front door before searching the closet for a few blankets. Though the days had become warmer, the nights were still chilly up in the Wyoming foothills. With blankets in hand, she grabbed a bottle of water, some goat cheese, and crackers. “What is wrong with you? He’s not a guest!” she admonished.

  “What did you say, Ma’am?”

  “Do you like goat cheese?” She slammed her face down into the blankets in her arms. You are so crazy!

  “Uh, I’m not sure but I’m starving enough to try it if you’re offering.”

  Sydney put some cheese, crackers, and a couple of tangerines in a Tupperware container, and as a last thought she sliced a piece of the birthday cake and slipped it in there as well. She might as well share it with someone.

  ~*~

  The rough railings on the deck allowed him just enough support to keep him conscious. His body throbbed, yet something told him this wasn’t the first time he had pushed through pain like this.

  The woman, who had greeted him with the gun shoved into her shoulder as if it lived there, intrigued him. She muttered to herself again as she moved around in her house. Knowing that she would allow him to sleep in her barn allowed him to breathe easier, if he could. He hoped the pain in his chest was only bruised ribs, and not broken.

  When she returned outside, arms laden, he pushed himself to stand, though quite unsteadily with his teeth bared against the pain. He blew out a breath as he looked up. Their eyes met, and he couldn’t stop the rush that raced through his veins.

  “You know you have...” He stopped himself, cleared his throat, and reached for the items in her hands with his good arm. “Thank you.” This wasn’t a dating scene. He could be putting her in danger. He didn’t need to make her feel uncomfortable by telling her she had the most amazingly multi-colored eyes.

  She nodded as he took the blankets from her.

  This woman walked with purpose as she led him towards the barn. Though each of her movements enveloped the feminine, she held herself with a confidence he didn’t remember most women having. Though, he couldn’t remember anything right now. He had no business looking at this Good Samaritan in any way besides as an angel that graced him hospitality.

  She hesitated a moment and glanced back at the house. He realized then that she didn’t have her shotgun on her. He wished he could say something that would make her realize that she was safe with him, that she had nothing to fear from him. Yet, was that the truth?

  Uneasiness made his stomach clench as he scanned the area. The line of trees, though good protection, could also hide enemies. Enemies...why had he constantly been thinking that since he woke on the side of the road?

  He entered the barn behind her. She switched on fluorescent lights that flickered from high in the rafters. Shadows cast along four stalls and a large open area before it closed off rooms at the back. Too many places for people to hide.

  Soft bleats grabbed his attention, and he saw two soft muzzles stick through slats of the pens.

  “Hello girls, how are you mamas doing? No babies yet?” The woman’s voice had softened when addressing the animals. The gentleness created a yearning within him as his heart tugged and squeezed.

  “Babies?” he said through gritted teeth. Exhaustion filled him. If he didn’t sit down soon, he would fall down.

  She turned to look at him and froze as if she had forgotten how to breathe.

  He felt the same way, and for a moment his pain and exhaustion fled him. In the light of the barn he saw her eyes that much more clearly—multi-colored like a puzzle perfectly fit together. Her parted lips were smooth and cherry red, and the spattering of freckles across her nose gave her a childlike quality that made him want to protect her.

  “Oh, yeah.” She cleared her throat and blinked. “These gals are due any day now.”

  “I see.” The moment had been broken and the pain lanced through him even more ferociously. He leaned against the pen as he felt the blood drain from his face.

  He must look like he was about to drop, because she took the blankets from him and hastily made her way down to the unoccupied end stall. After laying out a few horse blankets on top of some fresh straw, she set the blankets from the house on top.

  When he made it to her, she looked from the makeshift bed to him, back towards the house, and back to him again. She shook her head and muttered to herself again.

  “Do you talk to yourself like this all the time?” he asked, feeling his mouth crook up and eyes crinkle.

  “Comes with the territory, I guess.” She smiled sheepishly before looking to the makeshift bed. “It’s no five-star hotel but, your accommodations sir.”

  “I appreciate this, ma’am.”

  “Sydney,” she said quickly.

  “Sydney.” He let her name roll around on his tongue before gingerly lowering himself onto the blankets before he passed out on them. She was a great distraction, but his body demanded rest, and demanded it now.

  “Here, some food and water.” She handed him the Tupperware and a bottle of water.

  “Thank you.” He looked at the contents and another grin crossed his face. “Cake?”

  “Yeah, I, uh, its,” she stuttered, “cake.” A blush filled her cheeks, and he wished it was brighter so he could see if it would wash out her freckles. She turned from him, disappearing into one of the rooms.

  He took the moment to close his eyes and struggled to open them as she tromped back into the stall, his five-star accommodations for the night.

  “We should bandage that cut,” she said matter-of-factly.

  He nodded. All he really wanted was sleep, but how could he tell the kind lady...Sydney, no?

  She kneeled down next to him and opened up a metal first aid kit. The spray stung like fire, but he only clenched his teeth against it. Her fingers covered the cut with ointment, gentle and self-assured.

  “At least it won’t get infected. I don’t think it’ll need stitches,” she said as she finished taping the bandage on and backed up quickly like she couldn’t breathe next to him.

  He wondered if he stunk, or if she was really that frightened of him. “Thank you.”

  She nodded and closed up the kit. “Do you need anything else looked at?”

  “Not tonight. I appreciate this,” he said, though his eyes kept trying to close.

  “Well, good night. Hope you, uh, can remember some things in the morning.” She backed away until she ran into the gate. “Lights are here, when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Sydney. Sleep well, and lock your door.” His statement felt inadequate. He lifted a hand in farewell as she fled the barn, practically tripping over her bodyguard of a dog.

  As soon as he heard her feet creak up her old porch, he opened the Tupperware and swallowed large chunks of food. How long had it been since he’d eaten? The cheese had a strange aftertaste, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. Right now, just having food in his belly made everything taste as delicious as the chocolate cake.

  As he picked up the dessert, he noticed a hole and a few specks of pink wax. A birthday cake. The thought tugged on his heart. He looked in the direction of the house as if he could see through the walls. Had that woman spent her birthday alone?
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br />   He had noted immediately that she was the sole occupant of the house, and surmised that it wasn’t just a temporary thing. He could be wrong. Her spouse could be gone for the night, but he sensed she lived here on the ranch alone. What would ever coerce a woman like her to be so far from society and run a ranch by herself?

  The thoughts mulled around in his fuzzy brain as he chowed down the cake. It soon was gone, as was any energy for thoughts. He lay back against the blankets that smelled of memories he couldn’t place. A sigh escaped him as he realized the makeshift bed actually was quite comfortable.

  His eyes closed immediately. For a moment more he categorized all the sounds he heard: the mother goats shifting around their stalls, more goats bleating occasionally from the pasture, the occasional stomp from horses somewhere beyond the barn, and, most importantly, the crickets.

  The world around him seemed at peace, ready to wrap up another day. He would have to trust that his instincts, or the animals, would rouse him if needed. With that thought, sleep overtook him in a hazy, almost drugged-induced way.

  ~2~

  There were twenty-six stars outside Sydney’s bedroom window. She had been counting them for the last several hours. The almost moonless sky made the perfect night for stargazing. Once again she mentally checked to make sure she had locked the door. Reaching out a hand to touch cold steel reassured her that the shotgun leaned against the nightstand within reach.

  “Meow.” Mr. Paws sensed her movement.

  “Yes, kitty. I know, I should be sleeping.” How could she though? The night replayed over and over. She felt in total awe of the coincidence. Yet, what had Aunty Mag always said—There are no such things as coincidences—only perfect timing.

  Could that handsome, green-eyed devil in the barn really be perfect timing? Sydney covered her face dramatically with a pillow. She just needed to sleep! Was the nameless stranger sleeping right now? Did he snore?

  She threw the pillow across the room, spooking Mr. Paws who skittered across the bed and out the door, claws desperately seeking purchase on the slippery wood floor.

  Thunk!

  Sydney cringed, Poor Mr. Paws. Guilt flooded her. She hated when he slid into the walls.

  Sitting up with her feet dangling off the queen bed, she stretched and looked out into the night. From the window she couldn’t see the barn, but she wondered if the light would still be on. She slipped cold toes into the soft slipper boots and shuffled out to the kitchen.

  Maybe some warm milk would help her fall asleep. Aunty Mag always heated some goat milk when she couldn’t sleep during her summers here as a child. They would sit on the porch, sipping at their mugs and counting the stars.

  A sigh escaped her. She looked longingly at the faded picture that hung on the living room wall and touched Aunty Mag’s smiling face. She and Uncle Joe looked so happy on their wedding day. Sydney used to ask her to tell the story of that day over and over while she stared at this picture.

  A story of true love—every little girl’s dream. Uncle Joe was Aunty Mag’s knight in shining armor, but she was no ordinary princess. No, Aunty Mag would never have qualified as princess material, but Uncle Joe sure did do his best to treat her as the queen she was. Their relationship was so different from Sydney’s parents.

  She turned to pull back the sheer curtain at the front of the house. Her breath caught when she saw the light in the barn still leaking out between the wooden planks. Was the stranger still awake too? She dropped the curtain and took two steps back into the kitchen. The wooden floor squeaked making her heart quicken. When something lightly brushed across her ankles she jumped, and the sharp pierces of adrenaline shot through her.

  “Meow.”

  “Mr. Paws!” she admonished, breathing deeply to quell her racing heart. Bending down, she stroked the cat’s fur, letting the repetitive motion soothe her.

  Once she had calmed and could breathe freely once again, she opened the fridge, illuminating the kitchen in its glow. The glass pitcher of goat milk felt cool in her hands as she poured some into a mug. Aunty would always warm it up on the stove, but she didn’t have the patience for that. The microwave hum seemed loud in the dark, quiet house.

  She snuck another peak at the glowing barn while the goat milk heated. The cowboy probably just passed out before he had the chance to turn the lights off. That gash in his head looked horrid. What if he had a concussion? Maybe she should go check on him?

  Ding.

  Saved by the bell. She shook her head as she let go of the curtain again. With the warm mug in hand, she traipsed back to bed, mumbling chastises the whole way.

  The milk worked beautifully. So beautifully, in fact, that when Guardian began his morning wake-up call, it left Sydney startled, sitting up abruptly with fuzzy vision. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus as she stumbled her way to the tiny bathroom. The cool water soothed her sleep-puffy face. She let the droplets drip back into the sink.

  Looking up at her reflection, she noticed how dark her lashes looked dripping wet. Her multi-hued eyes stared back at her. She never knew what to say when asked the color of her eyes. They weren’t blue, yet not really green, and brown would be pushing it way too far. Rather they had flecks of each of the colors with some gold mixed in to boot.

  She had always craved to have green eyes, bright green eyes—like the nameless cowboy in her barn. Her breath caught as memories flooded her. Her wish. The man. The barn. Oh man... The world started to turn black before she finally remembered to breathe again.

  Would he still be there? She hastily brushed her teeth, pulled the mess of brown hair up into a pony, and ran back into the bedroom to dress. Guardian barked again.

  “I hear ya, buddy. I’m getting your breakfast. Hold your horses,” she called out to the impatient dog as Mr. Paws crisscrossed between her legs. “Yes, you too.”

  She started the coffee pot and continued her routine of feeding the house animals, all while wishing she could run towards the barn to see if her visitor still existed. It hadn’t been a dream, had it?

  Opening the door, Guardian greeted her with a quiet woof and a huge wagging tail. “Here you go boy, did you sleep good? No other trespassers?” She scratched him behind the ears, sneaking glances towards the barn. The goats and horses loudly requested their breakfasts as well.

  When the last blast of coffee steam puffed out, she went back into the house and poured coffee into a commuter mug that she would traipse all around the ranch with until she returned for her own breakfast. She almost made it out the door before going back and pouring another cup of coffee.

  It wouldn’t hurt to give the man a cup of coffee before she sent him along his way, right?

  Her heart raced as she walked across the yard towards the barn. Guardian, already having inhaled his food, followed at her heels. Would the man still be there? Where did he come from? Was he running from the law...or something even worse?

  She bit her lip trying to stop the questions raging in her head. Yet, they still came, assaulting her with so many different possibilities she was almost afraid to even look at the guy again. The lights still dimly lit the barn. Guess he never got up to turn them off.

  Pearl and Josie stuck their heads out for some pets, but she couldn’t get any words out for them through her choked throat. She slowly peeked around into the last pen...

  Boots, fancy-city boots. Holding her breath, she stood up on her tiptoes to look over the gate. He was definitely still in a deep sleep with his good arm flung over his face and his injured arm snug against his chest. At least she hoped it was just sleep. She set his coffee on the post of the gate before skirting the edge of the pen. She knelt closer to him until she could hear the soft exhale of his breath and see his chest rise and fall.

  Goodness, his expansive chest and shoulders looked like they could carry the weight of the world. Her pulse raced as she saw the massive size of his arms and hands, hands that would make hers feel tiny and delicate. For a moment she thought wha
t it would feel like in his arms, safe and protected from the harshness of life.

  He stirred, and she hastily crawled back out before he saw her drooling over him. Get ahold of yourself girl! She smacked herself on the forehead. Yet, she couldn’t stop her mind from retracing the line of his stubbled chin, the expanse of his shoulders...

  “Mahhh.” Josie nudged her with her muzzle.

  “Sorry, girl,” she whispered, shaking her head and focusing on her task. She had been alone way too long.

  Sydney finished her morning chores, including snatching a half dozen fresh eggs, and headed back to the house to scramble a couple of them up for breakfast. Nothing like fresh eggs. She ate slowly. Something she did her best to do every morning, enjoying the early sing-song of the ranch, real-farm-raised food, and the peace that always filled her when she remembered that this place was hers.

  For a moment, she almost forgot about the handsome stranger still asleep in the barn.

  The deep rumble of Homer’s quad brought her out her stillness. She appreciated that the older man stayed on after Aunty Mag and Uncle Joe passed. His help had kept her afloat, and today it brought her a sense of safety with the man in her barn.

  She rose and stretched. Chores still had to be done, handsome stranger or not. She cleaned up breakfast, but then thought of her unexpected guest. Should she make him something to eat?

  Not one to lollygag, she quickly heated the pan and cracked a couple more eggs. He needed his strength to decide where in the world he would go now, being as he had no memory. What would he do? She couldn’t just send him off hurt and with no memory, could she? The thought plagued her as she pushed through her screen with a plate of eggs in one hand.

  Just as the screen door slammed shut, the yelling in the barn began. Guardian ran ahead of her as she did her best to run without spilling the food.

  ~*~

  A kick shook him again. Pain lanced through his sleep mussed brain, kicking in his instincts. Without thought, he jumped towards the man who kicked him. He took the man’s fist and twisted it behind his back.