Cowboy Be Mine. Tina Leonard
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“All right.” She tried not to think of all the times she’d slid out of Michael’s bed before dawn—before the children awakened and looked for her, before anyone might see her truck and before he’d need to get up to tend his chores. Michael had never once offered to even walk her down the stairs. “Chili, do you think he likes her?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“Nope. I think he likes you,” he said eagerly, obviously comfortable in a Dear Abby role, “if he could just figure out how to tell ya, I just know he would.”
“Why do you think so?” Bailey’s heart beat faster with hope.
“I dunno. Just a funny feeling I had that Michael thought pretty much of you.”
“He didn’t like Fred’s lobotomy remark.” Michael had taken up for Deenie fast.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t like rudeness for much of any reason. Michael believes his every emotion should be kept under lock and key. ’Course, most folks can’t live that way.”
She sure couldn’t! She felt like she might blow up from the thought of Deenie putting her lips where she’d put her fork—Michael’s mouth. But he was right. Just because Deenie was being a pain didn’t mean anyone else should follow her lead. She wished she were better at being like Michael. Maybe she wouldn’t be hurting so much right now. Fred had only given voice to the very thoughts Bailey had been guilty of thinking about Deenie.
So she took Chili’s assurance that Michael liked her as comfort, even though she didn’t believe it wholeheartedly. Michael had never had her over in the light of day.
“The question is, do you like him?”
She felt the cowboy’s cagey gaze on her face. If she wasn’t careful, she might reveal more than she should—and she didn’t want her secret sprung on Michael until she had a chance to tell him herself. “I…I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s looking for anyone to like him,” she replied carefully.
“He’s not good at romance, Bailey. Women are not Michael’s specialty.”
“You could have fooled me!” Bailey shot back.
“Oh, don’t let Deenie stir your pot. She’s a mantrap. Mind you, he’s going to be long in figuring out how to tell you how he feels, if he ever does,” Chili stated. “You’ll have to be mighty patient, more patient than a saint, Bailey. Michael won’t let his feelings just spew out of him like a valve letting off. But given enough time, you just might win the day. That is, if you want him.”
Oh, I do. Bailey closed her eyes. She’d been patient for six months, all her life, really, hoping Michael would learn to love her. Say the words she wanted to hear.
She’d simply run out of time.
DEENIE AND MICHAEL watched Chili help Bailey over the wooden cross-timber fence that separated the two properties. Bailey barely made it over before the youngest Dixons met her, jumping around her like anxious puppies. The cries of greeting to their big sister could be heard by anyone within a ten-mile radius.
“That place is the Indigent Ranch,” Deenie said scornfully. “The county ought to condemn that house. Why don’t the Dixons move if they can’t take care of the place? I don’t believe they’ve ever fixed a shingle on the dump the hundred years it’s been barely standing. Really, Michael, it’s such an eyesore next to your lovely home.”
She glanced at her rhinestone-covered blue jean jacket, which sparkled and flashed in the light, like her teeth and blond hair. Deenie was all-over perfection, a showgirl.
Michael wistfully thought about Bailey’s warmth and caring. If the two women’s lives were reversed, Bailey would be thinking about how she could do something to help Deenie, not put her down because of her lack of money. But Deenie had always been attracted to that which counted on the surface, which looked great on the outside. He supposed most folks were. Which made Bailey all the more special. He admired her for taking on the responsibilities of a brother who wasn’t cut out for being head of a family and for shouldering the burden of overseeing such a large household. It had to be harder than anything he was doing, Michael thought with some discomfort.
“Go easy on Bailey, Deenie. She’s had it rough since her mom and dad died.”
“She’s had it rough all her life.” Deenie shook her head. “I feel sorry for her. But you’ve got to admit, Michael, Bailey brings a lot of her misery on herself.”
He frowned. “How’s that?”
“Well, she’d have a man by now if she’d do something with herself!” Deenie exclaimed. “Then she wouldn’t be living hand to mouth like side-of-the-road trash, would she?”
“I don’t think Bailey’s the type of woman who would look around for a man to solve her problems.”
“I didn’t say that, Michael, I said she’d have one by now and all her problems would be solved!” Deenie looked at him like he was nuts. “Bailey’s too stubborn to try, though. I told her in high school if she’d put that straggly blond hair up on her head, or even cut a few inches off of it, it would look so much nicer around her face. Give her a little glamour. Do you know what she told me?”
Michael couldn’t wait to hear. “What?”
“That she liked her hair just fine!” Deenie was outraged. “Have you ever heard the like? Who wants hair hanging down to their waist and flat as a price tag at Neiman Marcus? It’s all fine for high school, but she’s got to be nearly twenty-six now, and she still won’t do anything with herself.”
Michael suppressed the smile that leaped to his lips. Deenie probably spent more in a month on hair spray and lipstick than Bailey spent all year on food. Truth was, he liked Bailey’s clean skin and long, soft hair. It teased the top of her fanny when she was naked, it framed her face when she was asleep, far more glamorous than Deenie’s hard-packed big hair, which probably wouldn’t even move on a pillow. As for glamour, well, Bailey looked like she belonged in a Victoria’s Secret photo shoot, as far as he was concerned.
“Now the length of her dress was better tonight, short and fashionable,” Deenie continued, “but the only reason it was so short was because it was shrunk. It’s been washed a thousand times. That was the same navy dress her mother used to wear to pick the kids up from school. Only now it’s powder blue from fading.”
“Deenie,” Michael said abruptly, “you ought to set your sights on Gunner King.”
“Gunner!” Deenie stared at him. “Why, hon?” She ran her gaze over his shoulders hungrily. “He’s not nearly as sexy as you are.”
“Got a lot more money,” Michael stated ever so casually. He didn’t know if that was true, but a glance outside the window revealed Chili on his way over the fence. If he could send Deenie packing, he might have time to pick the cowboys’ brains about Bailey.
“More money?” Deenie echoed. “How do you know?”
“Oh, his father made a killing in some oil well down south before he died.” Michael shrugged. “Heard they made so much money on it that they were thinking about buying a winter home in Rio.” He paused as Deenie’s eyes dilated. “Of course, that wouldn’t do Gunner any good now. No fun to vacation alone.”
“Rio!” Deenie exclaimed. “Oh, my goodness, would you look at the time? I’d better be going.” She snatched up her pie, examining it carefully. “It doesn’t look like somebody took a bite out of it,” she said under her breath. “It just looks like the crust caved in a little.” Turning toward the door, she gave Michael her best Rodeo Queen smile. “Call me sometime, sugar.”
She was gone in a flash of expensive perfume. Michael shuddered. It was almost cruel to sic Deenie on his rival, but Gunner no doubt would somehow return the favor one day.
“Two of a kind,” he muttered. Striding down the long hall toward the enormous TV