A Cowboy's Promise. Marin Thomas
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“No.”
“SOS can save your farm.”
The Pebble Creek gossipmongers were at it again. “Who says my farm needs saving?”
“Jake Taylor mentioned you were in danger of losing the place.”
Jake Taylor meant well, but he talked too much.
“If I can prove that SOS didn’t attack Ben, then you’d be able to sell the stud.” He motioned to the house and the barn. “The money you’d make on the sale would go a long way in sprucing up the place.”
He expected her to use the extra cash to beautify her home? Yeah, right. She’d pay off the rest of Ben’s debts first and any money left over would be socked away for emergencies. “And if no one wants the horse after you’ve worked with him, what then?”
“Then I’ll pay you what I can and take the stud off your hands.”
Now she knew Matt Cartwright was crazy. His sober eyes studied her. Sweat tickled her scalp. And a red haze formed in her peripheral vision.
Pity. The damned cowboy felt sorry for her.
How dare he. How dare he act all chivalrous and cocky. She hadn’t asked for his sympathy and darned if she’d allow him to play the white knight and rescue her.
But what if he can prove Ben’s death was an accident? Dare she walk away from an opportunity to get out of debt sooner rather than ten years from now? “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.” His mouth flattened and his eyes flicked toward the burial plot. “Sorry. I meant no disrespect.”
“What happens if I waltz into the barn one morning and discover you’ve suffered the same fate as my husband?” The doctors had explained that the horse’s kick had crushed Ben’s ribcage and a splinter of rib bone had pierced his heart.
“Send my body back to Oklahoma and you can keep my mares, truck and rig for your trouble.” He grinned.
Ha. Ha.
“I’m a tie-down roper. I’ve worked with horses all my life. I know the difference between an animal who’s snapped and one who’s been spooked or mis-handled.” When Amy remained silent, he added, “SOS is too valuable a horse not to be given a second chance before he’s put down.”
Oh, shoot. She’d believed all that compassion had been for show, but obviously the man intended to do the right thing for the stud. She wondered if he was also concerned with doing the right thing for her and the girls. “I can’t afford feed and upkeep for the horses.”
“I’ll cover the costs for the animals and myself in exchange for hot showers and place to rest my head at night.”
Was it her imagination or had his eyes strayed to her breasts when he’d mentioned resting his head somewhere? “I’m a woman alone with two children, Mr. Cartwright.”
“I’ll give you a list of references.” He snapped his fingers. “As a matter of fact, call Jake Taylor over at the—”
“Gateway Ranch,” she finished for him.
“Taylor and I ate supper at Pearl’s last night.”
Amy trusted the ranch foreman. Jake Taylor had been a close friend of her grandfather. If Jake had any doubts about Cartwright’s character he’d tell her. “Excuse me a minute.” She headed inside. A sheet of paper with Jake’s cell number along with a dozen other neighbors’ numbers was taped to the wall by the kitchen phone. Jake answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Jake, it’s Amy.”
“Hello, Amy. Everythin’ okay out your way?”
“We’re all fine. Listen, I’m calling about Matt Cartwright.”
“The rodeo cowboy?”
“Yes. He said you two met at Pearl’s yesterday. He’s asking for a chance to work with Son of Sunshine.” She left out the part about Matt wanting to stash his bedroll in her house. “Can I trust him?”
“I’d bet my best pair of ridin’ gloves that he’s a man of his word. Ain’t nobody else willin’ to get near that horse.”
“I’m leaning toward giving him a shot,” she admitted.
“Tell ya what, missy. I’ll drop by soon and check on him.”
Reassured, Amy said, “Thanks, Jake.” After a brief goodbye she hung up.
An I-told-you-so grin greeted her when she stepped onto the porch. “Did I pass muster?”
“You passed.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She wished she possessed half the cowboy’s self-assuredness.
“Where should I stow my stuff?”
“The barn.”
His face paled.
“You want to work with Son of Sunshine you might as well bunk with him, too.” Amy swallowed a chuckle at his worried frown. “I’ll loan you a pillow and a blanket for the cot in the tack room.” She heard noises coming from the kitchen—the girls were up for the day. Halfway to the door, she stopped and issued a warning. “I wouldn’t bother unpacking, Mr.—”
“Matt.”
“I have a hunch you’ll be calling it quits before day’s end.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we? Amy.”
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