Page 23 of Cowboy Don't Go

“Did he?” she asked, noting the pleased look on Cooper’s face. “I’m not surprised. I bet you didn’t know he was our class valedictorian back in high school.”

Ryan slid a surprised look at Cooper. “He was?”

“Oh, yeah. And very, very good at math. Don’t be fooled by his mild-mannered appearance. Under all that cowboy paraphernalia lurks a true brainiac.”

Cooper got to his feet, brushing chalk dust from his hands. “I definitely wouldn’t go that far.”

She exchanged a knowing look with Ryan. “Mimi’s got dinner ready, Ry. Why don’t you go on in the house. I’ll be up in a minute.”

He turned to Cooper. “Thanks for the . . . you know, help.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck on your test tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I think I got this,” Ryan said with new confidence, and headed up to the house.

She stood there for a long minute, arms crossed, shaking her head. “How did you manage that?”

“What? Helping him solve for X? He kind of asked.”

Shay bit her lip. “Well, thank you. I mean that. I try to help him, but I’m his mom and there’s like this . . . chasm of—I don’t know—not wanting to need me, I guess? It usually ends in a frustrated stomp up to his room.” She rolled her eyes. “Teenagers. Anyway, thank you. You’re really the perfect one to help him. He doesn’t see you as a threat to his . . . independence, I think.”

“He’s fourteen,” Cooper agreed with a smile.

“He sure is. But you’re good with him. Kids, horses . . . What’s your secret?”

“No secret,” he said, gathering up his jacket. “Just helping out where I can.”

“Where did you learn about training horses the way you do, anyway?” she asked, really wanting to know. “You didn’t really grow up with a big operation like ours.”

“No, it was small and contained. My dad had another business—” He cut himself off and shrugged into his Carhartt jacket. “I mostly learned what I know in Texas,” he admitted. “The ranch I worked at had an ornery old cuss called Birdy, who was head wrangler and was, by all accounts, an actual horse whisperer. He claimed to be part Comanche, though which part was hard to say. Still, he had a special gift with horses, and he didn’t believe in the traditional way of breaking them.

“He was convinced that a horse needed his spirit intact to be a trustworthy mount. And once you earned that trust, you couldn’t buy a better partner on the trail. Years ago, as a young man, he managed to convince the ranch’s very reluctant owner to try his methods with a handful of his unbroke broncs. Turned out he was right. They never went back to the old way. And after he taught me, neither did I.”

Shay nodded, watching him, fascinated by how getting to know him was like peeling an onion, layer by layer, only to learn that she might have completely misjudged the man and his motives.

“That’s not to say there aren’t other methods out there for making ridable horses,” he went on, patting Delilah through the bars of her stall. “I’ve just changed my thinking in general over the past few years about what’s possible, I guess.” He turned back to her. “Ryan’s got a little bit of Birdy in him, I think. He’s a special kid. He’ll do great with Kholá, I think. And hopefully, his math test.”

She grinned. “If he does, it’ll be thanks to you.”

He wasn’t likely to accept compliments like that and he ducked his head. “I’d better get—”

“Do you want to come up to dinner?” she blurted, cutting him off. “Mom made fajitas. I mean, she makes really great steak fajitas.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, she heard Cooper’s stomach growl. But he said, “That’s real tempting and kind of you, but I can’t. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Another date? You work fast, Lane,” she teased.

“Still not a date,” he said, but looked everywhere but in her eyes. “But I do have to go. See you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling, “but rain check on the dinner.”

He slid his hat on, touched the brim and walked out the barn doors, into the gloaming night.

Shay just stood there for a minute, shaking her head, feeling unreasonably disappointed that he was already dating someone even though he’d just moved back to town. Even though he’d denied it. She was pretty sure that was it.

Crazy.

That was the word that cropped up in Shay’s mind as she left him in the barn, heading toward the house. These feelings she was starting to have for him were crazy. Irresponsible, too. And while we’re at it, let’s call it what it really is—foolish.

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