Catch Me, Cowboy Read online

  An older woman he didn’t know smiled at him as he got out of his truck and he touched the brim of his hat and smiled back. He started down the sidewalk to Grey’s Saloon, figuring there was no better place to catch up on local goings on and see if anyone needed a day hand. He’d just passed the bank when a woman brushed by him from behind, moving with a limp that didn’t slow her down much.

  “Tanner. Hey.”

  Tanner McTavish turned and blinked at him before pushing her rust colored braid over her shoulder in a self-conscious gesture. “Ty. Hi.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, possibly because Tanner was a friend of Shelby’s. “I heard you were back.”

  Word traveled fast in Marietta, as always. He’d pulled into town yesterday evening and ate dinner at the café before parking his truck at the fairgrounds. The café had been almost empty, but Carole Bingley had been there with a friend, which explained everything. A compulsive gossip who worked at the pharmacy could spread a decent rumor with lightning speed.

  “I am. I’m looking for a place to live for a while if you know of anything.”

  “Not off the top of my head.” She cocked her head a little. “Does that mean you’re staying?”

  “For a while.” An awkward silence hung between them before he asked, “Is Tucker going to be in town for the rodeo?”

  Tanner’s expression went stony at the mention of her sister’s name. Apparently things weren’t all that great between the twins. “She’ll be here. I’ll tell her you asked about her.”

  “No need.” He and Tucker had gone out a time or two, but only as friends. She was flirty and fun, but she wasn’t Shelby. “Just trying to catch up on who’s where.” He gestured toward the saloon. “Thought I’d start here.”

  Tanner gave a soft snort. “As long as you’re not counting on Jason to fill you in, you should do fine.”

  The last thing Ty expected was that Jason Grey would fill him in on local gossip. The guy was grim, but he still ran the best establishment around—although Ty had yet to check out the new microbrewery, FlintWorks. He’d had some good times at the Wolf Den, further down the street, but he didn’t think his body could take the trouble he sometimes got himself into there.

  “I’ve got to run,” Tanner said, adjusting her long purse strap on her shoulder. “Good seeing you.”

  “Good to see you, too.” He walked on to Grey’s and pushed through the door, stopping just inside so his eyes could adjust.

  “The prodigal,” Jason muttered as Ty approached the bar.

  It was a dour announcement, but Ty had spent enough times in Grey’s to know it was as close to an effusive greeting as he was ever going to get from the barkeep.

  “One of many,” he said.

  Jason gave him a thoughtful look. “Yeah. Guess so.” He poured a draft without asking and passed it across the bar. “Back for good?”

  Again, very effusive for Jason, but Ty chalked it up to the fact the establishment was practically empty and no one would see Jason having an actual conversation.

  “Depends on a few things.”

  Jason nodded, then headed to the other end of the bar where he started unloading a tray of glassware.

  Conversation over. His plan of catching up with the locals was shot all to hell by the fact that there were no locals there to talk to. He didn’t know the people sitting at the table in the far corner of the room, didn’t know if they were new to the area or passing through. He’d only been gone for four years, but Marietta had changed. It seemed busier and not only because the rodeo weekend was approaching. He’d noticed new businesses and new houses. But the beauty of Marietta was that it was too far away from Bozeman to become a bedroom community, so the people there were people invested in the community.

  Ty sipped his beer, then took his life in his hands and sauntered down the bar.

  When Jason raised his eyes to glare, Ty said, “I’m looking for temporary work and a place to stay.” He had some money tucked away, but hated to touch his emergency fund, which wasn’t exactly huge.

  “I’ll keep my ears open.”

  Meaning nothing sprang to mind.

  “Thanks.” Ty gave a nod and made his way back to his stool, leaving Jason in peace. He finished his beer, pulled out his wallet and left some bills on the bar.

  “Hey.”

  Ty turned at the door, surprised that Jason had spoken to him.

  “Try Callen. For a place to stay. Heard she needs another cowboy on the Circle C. A guy just quit.”

  “Thanks.” Ty gave Jason a quick nod, then stepped out into the bright Montana sun. First he’d find a place to stay, then he’d plot out his next move with Shelby.

  Chapter Two

  “When were you going to tell me that Ty was back?”

  Shelby looked over her shoulder at her grandfather, who’d just come around the barn, then turned her attention back to the mare she was unsaddling. “I didn’t tell you because I needed some time to process. How’d you find out?”

  “I had to phone in a prescription refill.”

  Carole Bingley. Of course. “I don’t know why that woman still has a job,” Shelby muttered as she pulled the latigo strap free of the cinch ring.

  “That was him here this morning, wasn’t it?”

  “It was,” Shelby agreed.

  She pulled the saddle off the mare and Gramps automatically stepped forward to take it from her. After returning from the tack shed, he took a brush out of the bucket and started brushing the opposite of the horse from where Shelby was currying away sweat and grime.

  “Looks like you gave her a workout.”

  “She gave herself a workout.”

  “Read your mood.”

  “She did indeed.” Usually Shelby was able to put matters aside when she rode, lose herself as she communicated with the horse through her legs, seat, and hands. But not today.

  Seeing Ty again had been almost surreal. She’d tried not to think about him over the years. Had done her damnedest to shove him out of her head, and she’d thought she had… until he’d driven to the ranch that morning. The impact of seeing him had made her want to curl up into a little ball somewhere dark and quiet and recover—which pissed her off to no end. That wasn’t how she did things. She rebounded. She didn’t curl up and feel sorry for herself.

  “So how is he?” Gramps asked.

  “He was moving slow.”

  “No surprise there.”

  None at all. Shelby hadn’t given in to the temptation of finding Ty’s career-ending wreck on YouTube, but Gramps had, and he’d described it in detail to her, even though she didn’t want to hear those details. The horse had reared over backwards after the gate opened, pinning Ty against the chute, busting up his pelvis, shoulder and femur. If he were younger, he might have come back, but he wasn’t younger and he’d announced his retirement after getting out of the hospital.

  “Did he say why he was back in Marietta?” Gramps asked.

  Shelby shot a look at him over the back of the horse, but he was bending low, brushing down one leg. This was shaky ground. Break her heart, fine. But she was not going to have Gramps get caught in the crossfire again.

  “He didn’t.” He also hadn’t said how long he’d be there.

  “Well,” Gramps said as he straightened up again. “I have a lot of prescriptions to refill, so I should have no trouble finding out what he’s up to and whether or not he’s staying for good.”

  Shelby brought her forearms up to rest on the mare’s broad back. “Why do you care?”

  “Because you do.”

  She opened her mouth to say she did not, but that was more of a lie than she could force out. “I do care, but only because I don’t want people getting hurt again.”

  “People?” Gramps frowned at her. “You don’t mean me, in addition to you?”

  She shrugged. “You were no happier than I was when Ty took off.”

  “Different reason.”

  Shelby wanted to ask about the
reason, but she also wanted to drop the conversation because if her stomach got any tighter, she wasn’t going to be able to eat for the rest of the day.

  “Shelby.” She looked up, met her grandfather’s gaze, read his concern.

  “I can handle things.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he knew. She’d proven it a time or two. She’d handled it when her mother had died way too young. She’d handled all the usual teenage heartaches with only her friend, Cassie, and her team roping partner, Wyatt, for support. She’d handled Ty’s abandonment.

  “He told me he hadn’t made a mistake in leaving me.” Shelby didn’t want Gramps to have any concerns about her taking up with Ty again. “Was pretty damned adamant about it. And I will not be seconds, Gramps. I don’t think it’s right that he went off and lived the life he loved and now that he’s hurt and can’t continue with that life, he’s back for the next best thing. Believe it or not, being number two on his priority list doesn’t warm my heart.”

  Her grandfather said nothing as he continued to brush and Shelby hoped the conversation was now over. She gave the brush one last quick flip on the mare’s neck, then set it in the grooming bucket before once again meeting his shrewd gaze, hoping he couldn’t see, even though she was truly done with Ty, being near him again had been unsettling.

  “I’d thought better of him,” her grandfather finally muttered.

  He shook his head as if done with the matter, but just to make certain the subject was dropped once and for all, Shelby said, “I heard back from the Barlows.”

  “The ritzy ranch people?”

  Shelby couldn’t help but smile, despite her mood. A transplanted Texan had built a sweet little hobby ranch ten miles north of Marietta, only to be driven out by the Montana winters after two years. He’d left behind a lovely cedar, glass, and stone house, state-of-the-art fencing, and barns. Gramps had told Shelby the Texan would never get what he was asking for his “ritzy ranch,” but the place had been snapped up in less than a week by Paul Barlow, a tech-boom millionaire anxious to get away from the Seattle rain.

  “Yep. They’re bringing the horse by next weekend. I guess he’s a little wild.” Anyway, that was the impression she’d gotten when the proud new owner had described him to her.

  “How old is he?”

  “Nine.”

  Gramps cocked an eyebrow at her. “Kind of old to rehab.”

  Shelby just shrugged and untied the paint mare. “I’ll evaluate him.”

  “Wish Uriel was still here.”

  Uriel had left for an outfitting job that paid full benefits instead of bare bones health care that Gramps offered. He still stopped by from time to time when Shelby or Gramps needed a hand with haying, but his new job kept him busy most days of the week during tourist and hunting seasons. Shelby understood why Uriel had taken the new job, but she’d been sad to see him go—not only had his departure added to her grandfather’s workload, Uriel was now no longer there to help handle the tougher horses when necessary. Shelby was good, but she was also only five-foot-four and there were times when she needed muscle and height. Uriel had both.

  Shelby made a wry face at her grandfather. “If the horse is more than I can handle, I’ll send him back. You know I will.”

  Shelby wasn’t one to give up, but there were times when common sense outweighed stubbornness and determination. She couldn’t afford to get hurt, or to have her grandfather hurt.

  “Was she your last ride for the day?” Gramps asked as Shelby released the mare and then returned for the grooming bucket.

  “Yeah. I’m roping tonight.”

  “In town?”

  She shook her head. “Wyatt’s arena. The rodeo grounds tomorrow.” Practicing for her big comeback at the Copper Mountain Rodeo with her long time team roping partner.

  Funny how having Ty in the area put the prospect of roping in public—which had been unnerving the hell out of her for the past several weeks—into perspective. On a standard stress scale, Ty’s return was a ten. Maybe an eleven. Competing in the rodeo without screwing up was now only a five or six.

  Her grandfather reached out to take the grooming bucket from her as they started toward the barn. “Just focus on your roping and your horses and forget that Ty’s anywhere in the vicinity.”

  Shelby gave a small snort. Excellent advice, but easier said than done… especially when she was certain he was going to seek her out again and would continue to do so until he considered the matter between them settled.

  *

  “You’re a day too late,” Callen Carrigan McAllister said, shaking her head. “We would have hired you, too.”

  “Then I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” Although he wished it had. It would have been a good solution all the way around—Callen would get help the temporary help she needed on the ranch and he’d get a place to live.

  Callen smiled a little. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anyone who needs a hand for a couple of weeks.” She cocked her head. “Where are you staying?”

  “I’m parked at the rodeo grounds. Sleeping in my bedroll in the back of the truck.”

  “Just like old times?”

  When he’d first starting following the circuit he had spent a lot of time sleeping in the bed of his truck, driving insane distances, riding, then getting back into his truck to drive another insane distance. “Exactly like old times.”

  “You know… I may not be able to offer a paycheck, but I might have something more comfortable in the way of living arrangements. Hawksley’s old camp trailer is still parked behind the barn. It’s in rough shape, but I’d lend it to you. Indefinitely. I’ll even give you a place to park it.”

  “I don’t want to get in your way.”

  “You could park it in the aspen grove just past the cattle guard. Close to the county road, but you’d have your privacy. And if you find a place closer to town or on another ranch, cool.”

  Ty grinned. He wasn’t one for charity, but Callen’s no nonsense attitude made it easier. “I’ll pay you rent.”

  “If it makes you feel better.”

  “It does.”

  “It just so happens that my husband is an accountant. I’ll ask him what rent I should charge for a fifty-year-old camp trailer that may or may not have mice and get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Callen. Maybe we can shoot a game of pool sometime.”

  She grinned. “Yeah. We can wager on whether or not you pay rent.”

  *

  “I heard that Ty’s back.” Wyatt Marshall shot Shelby a quick look before tightening his cinch and dropping the stirrup back into place.

  Wyatt was her friend, but Shelby was getting pretty damned sick of hearing those words, as well as reading them on her phone screen.

  She leveled a dark look at her long-time team roping partner. “Your point?”

  Wyatt shrugged and mounted his zillion dollar horse. “No point.”

  Shelby snorted. She was riding another of his zillion dollar horses—Ginger—who was so damned good at what he did that, when she roped, she only had to worry about herself, and what went on in her head—no easy task, since psyching herself out was what had gotten her in trouble back in the day. Twice she’d ruined their chances of being high school national champions by totally blowing her catches and thus pissing off a lot of Wyatt’s friends and supporters. Wyatt had shaken off the losses and gone on to win the NFR. Shelby had given up roping. Retired a loser and told herself she didn’t care if she ever touched a rope or rode into an arena again, so when Wyatt had asked her to partner with him a few months ago, she’d told him he was nuts. He persisted and she’d finally agreed. Only twice in her life had she walked away from a situation that had gotten the better of her—one was team roping and the other was her relationship with Ty. Roping she’d try again. All she was risking there was public humiliation.

  “I need to break in this rope.” She shook out the stiff loops as they rode toward the box.

  A trailer pulled int
o the drive as they moved into position and she could see the dust trail of another truck and trailer approaching in the distance. Pretty soon the driveway would be packed with trailers, which was why she’d arrived early. She wanted to get her practice in and head home.

  Wyatt’s sister, Katie, was manning the chutes. She waited until Shelby was in position before asking, “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Shelby said.

  “Hey, I heard that Ty’s back,” Katie added as she nudged the steer’s head so that he was looking straight ahead.

  Shelby let out a pained breath and Katie frowned quizzically at her before she released the animal. Wyatt and Shelby charged after the steer, which cut to the left instead of continuing along the rail. Wyatt missed his first catch and muttered a filthy word. Shelby laughed. It didn’t happen often, but it felt good to know that Wyatt had bad days, too.

  She roped three more times before calling it a night and starting home. Katie or Wyatt must have said something to the other ropers, because no one else helpfully informed her that Ty was back in Marietta—but she’d had the feeling all eyes were on her. And they’d be on her again when she and Ty inevitably bumped into each other in Marietta. Unless she hid out on the ranch until he left town.

  You don’t do chicken shit stuff like that.

  Right.

  But she wished she knew how long Ty planned to stay. She should have asked, but hadn’t been thinking all that straight when they’d talked. She hadn’t been thinking all that straight after they’d talked, which worried her. Why did he still have this kind of an effect on her? And what could she do about it?

  Waiting for him to leave wasn’t the answer, even if she allowed herself to do such a thing. If he’d come back to the area after retiring, it probably meant he planned to stay. Which meant she would see him. A lot. Marietta was a small town. Too small to effectively dodge an ex-lover.