A Cowboy Never Quits Read online

  “Do they know you don’t have any experience?”

  Jessica whirled on her daughter, suddenly afraid the position she’d managed to get her hands on for them would be yanked away and she’d have to start this painful process over somewhere else. “Would you rather end up at a military-type boot camp? Juvie? Because right now, those are looking like your options.” The officer at the station had given them a lengthy spiel about how these incidences often snowballed and led to worse crimes, and while Jess wished it’d scared Chloe more, it had certainly terrified her. “It might not feel like it right now, but I’m doing this for you.”

  “Mom, it was just a stupid joyride. One bad decision.”

  “A stupid joyride? That’s what you call fun these days?”

  The epic eye roll made an appearance. “No, I mean—”

  “And it was more than one bad decision.” Jess ticked them off on her fingers. “Sneaking out, underage drinking, and stealing a car and driving under the influence. You’re lucky no one was seriously injured. Or worse.”

  “Okay, I made a lot of bad decisions that night, but I’ll do better.” Fear flickered through her big blue eyes. “Please don’t take me away from my friends. Away from Tyler.”

  The sorrow in her voice tugged at Jess’s heartstrings, but she’d let her motherly affection soften her too many times before, enough that things had spiraled completely out of control. No more, though. “A guy like Tyler will break your heart and never look back.”

  “He loves me.”

  She gently placed her hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “Love doesn’t land you in jail in the middle of the night. That’s stupidity, alcohol and drugs, and a guy who only thinks about himself.”

  The screech of the screen door jerked Jess’s attention to the impatient cowboy in the doorway. “You coming?” he asked.

  “We’re coming.” She gestured her daughter ahead of her, and they walked across the foyer and into the office. The two other cowboys were no longer in the room, leaving just the elder Dawsons, Wade, Chloe, and Jess.

  She and Chloe sat in the chairs on the lonelier side of the room. Instead of rounding the desk to take a seat, Wade perched on the edge and leaned forward, forearms on his knees as he outlined the terms. Chloe would stay in the girls’ cabin with the other teens and follow every rule, no exceptions. Jessica would be staying at a cabin on the other end of the property and be at the main house at the crack of dawn to start breakfast. The teens were responsible for lunch. Then Jess would prepare dinner and help serve it, and under no condition was she to interfere in the program or the tasks they assigned to Chloe.

  The no this, no that sermon continued, and Jessica automatically glanced at Chloe to share a silent yeesh, this guy’s intense look, the same way they’d done when they first ended up together in the principal’s office.

  But Chloe’s eyes stared blankly ahead, her features carefully shuttered and devoid of emotion, and an intense ache radiated inside Jessica’s chest.

  In this scenario, she was the bad guy, no matter how many rules Wade spat out, and for a moment, she reconsidered if this was truly the right move. It had been all she’d wanted a matter of minutes ago, but now…

  She just wanted her daughter back.

  That first time she’d been called into the high school because Chloe was in trouble, Jess thought they were overreacting about the abrupt change in her daughter’s attitude and dipping grades. Maybe if she could go back in time and put her foot down, things would’ve never gotten so bad. But she didn’t have a rewind button to press and make it right, and she’d tried her way. There were bigger things going on—she was sure of it—but Chloe wouldn’t let her in. After Jess had picked her up from jail, that rift had only widened.

  This is the way I get her back. It has to be.

  So she nodded and put conviction behind her voice. “I understand.”

  “I’ll need it in writing,” Wade said.

  Again, she nodded.

  “Chloe will need to turn over her phone and any other electronics she’s brought.”

  Chloe paled, her eyes going wide. “No electronics at all?”

  “You’ll earn computer time. You’ll see the desk and the computer as we walk past the main room. Fair warning: Many sites are blocked, and your sessions will be monitored.”

  Chloe finally looked her way, and the mix of anguish and pleading shot Jess right through the heart. “Mom?”

  “Her phone and other electronics have already been taken away,” Jess numbly said.

  “But I get to call people one last time to explain, right? Even prison allows a phone call.”

  Mrs. Dawson scooted to the end of her chair and aimed a reassuring smile at Chloe. “Sugar, I know it seems a bit like a cage now, but how much freedom you have is up to you. You’ll see that it’s more like summer camp than anything.”

  At least Chloe was polite enough not to voice the skepticism that crept onto her features. Her chin quivered, and her tough-girl facade cracked. As tears bordered her eyes, Jess rethought this plan yet again.

  Hot salt-water pricked her own eyes, her throat burning with the effort to choke back a sob.

  “Ah, here’s Liza,” Mrs. Dawson said, glancing toward the woman who’d knocked lightly on the open door. “She’ll take you to the girls’ cabin and get you all settled in. We’ll give you a moment to say goodbye to your mother.”

  “No need.” Chloe shot out of her chair. She stormed past and strode over to Liza, who gave Jess a kind smile she couldn’t return—not without bursting into tears.

  “We’ll take good care of her,” the pretty brunette said.

  Then they were gone, and Jess couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. Couldn’t do much besides focus on breathing and how each gulp of oxygen tore at her lungs.

  The retreating footsteps sounded loud in the quiet, each one echoing in her ears.

  The toes of Wade’s boots encroached the spot of floor where she’d homed her gaze, and she slowly glanced up at the tall pillar of a man. She nearly asked if she could talk to anyone but him right now, but he flashed her a sympathetic look. There was a hint of fear in his expression, too, most likely over the worry she was going to start crying, which was a very real possibility.

  “It’s not uncommon for them to refuse to say goodbye,” he softly said.

  “At least I get to see her, right?” She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for most parents to have to leave when every motherly instinct was shouting at her to go collect her baby.

  Somehow she pushed to her feet and forced her wobbly knees into motion. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Dawson. “Thank you for giving us a chance. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  Unlike Wade, they seemed to find it comforting.

  Then Wade placed his hand on her lower back, a move she found more comforting than she should. “Come on. I’ll show you to your cabin.”

  * * *

  The walk across the yard had been silent, and Wade wasn’t sure what to say. Now he felt as though he’d been too harsh. His mood swings were driving him crazy. Usually he wasn’t a mood swing kind of guy. The other odd thing he couldn’t shake was the urge to give Jessica a hug and assure her it’d be okay.

  No guarantees; that was one of their rules. They believed in their program, but the teens had to do the work, and unfortunately, they couldn’t force people to heal and change.

  Man, would that make their jobs a lot easier, though, if they could.

  Another rule was not to cross lines, not with staff, not with parents. No crossing lines in general. They couldn’t deal with the teenagers’ drama and help counsel them and their families as efficiently if they were experiencing drama of their own. It was also why he hadn’t been on an actual date in over a year.

  Okay, one of the reasons why.

  He readjusted his grip on her suitcase handle, transferring it to his other hand. At first she’d refused his offer to carry it, but when it didn’t exactly roll on the dirt and grass, he’d grown frustrated watching her struggle and plucked it from her grip. Evidently she’d expended all of her energy talking his family into taking on her and her daughter because she’d let the suitcase go without a fight.

  Again, that urge to make her feel better rose. He cleared his throat. “The cabin you’ll be staying in while you’re here belongs to one of my brothers, so you’ll have to forgive the lack of decorations.”

  “I’m not much for decorations anyway. Who has the time?”

  The path was more well-trodden and dustier here, each step sending up small puffs of dirt that mixed with the scent of the spring plants finally taking hold and turning the ranch green. “Not sure when it’s last been cleaned, either.”

  “I don’t usually have time for cleaning, but I do know how if it’s needed.” She reached up and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Seriously, I appreciate the chance. I’m sorry you got outvoted… Well, not really sorry, but more… You know what I mean.” She ducked her head, and he cracked a smile.

  “Not sure that I do. I think I’ve just been insulted.”

  She laughed, but a sort of sob topped off the noise, leaving him with that conflicted sensation. Damn moods. They should know better than to be so affected by a beautiful woman.

  He opened the gate along the fence that served as a second barrier to livestock that managed to escape the corral, and then made sure to secure it behind them before heading down the dirt path to the cabins where he and his brothers lived. “Kids get their feelings hurt often. They’re supersensitive and have short fuses. But they also have short memories. Most of them get over things faster than adults.”

  Jessica hugged her arms around herself. “I’m afraid you’re underestimating the type of stubborn that runs in the Cook family.”

  “Since you talked your way into a job despite it breaking all the rules, I think I have an idea of what that looks like.”

  The smile that spread across her face kicked him in the gut.

  “Wait. Your last name’s Cook.” He’d referred to her by it earlier and had even just written it on the paperwork she’d signed, but the irony didn’t hit him till now. “And you’re going to be our cook. Does that mean I call you Cook Cook?”

  She tilted her head, and the sun highlighted the golden curls that framed her pretty face. “What is this? The eighteen hundreds? I thought you guys were advanced out here on this ranch, Cowboy Dawson, not still livin’ in the Wild West.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Ha-ha.”

  “Seriously, you look good for a guy in his two hundreds.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, not that you look good. Not that you don’t look good. I just…” She gave a cute self-deprecating giggle and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Her big brown eyes lifted to his. “How about you just go with Jessica? Most of my friends call me Jess, but after you read the riot act to me in the office, I’m guessing friendships between the help are frowned upon.”

  “Oh, so I’m the help? And the riot act? Really?”

  The smug curve of her lips lit up her entire face. Then she glanced over her shoulder toward the main house and the bunkhouses where the teens stayed. She exhaled a long breath. “Thank you for making me smile when I didn’t think it would ever be possible again.”

  “Chloe will be okay. Liza and the rest of the staff, they know what they’re doing.” He was getting too personal, breaking those rules she’d pointed out he had, but he couldn’t seem to help sidling closer to the line. “You’ll be okay, too. Just takes time.”

  She nodded, not so much like she believed him, but more like she didn’t know what else to say and hoped he was telling the truth. He hoped so as well.

  “Here we are,” he said, slowing at the sidewalk that led to the steps of the porch.

  “Key?”

  “Hanging up inside on a hook in the entryway,” he said, and when she scrunched up her eyebrows, he added, “We don’t have much need of locking our doors out here. If it makes you feel better, feel free, of course.”

  She scuffed the dirt with her shoes—thin, sockless shoes that were meant for offices and sidewalks and wouldn’t survive long on the ranch. He wanted to say so, but since they’d sorta started getting along, he decided to keep his mouth shut. She’d figure it out soon enough.

  “Is there a way to get my car any closer to the cabin?”

  “Not your car. That’s why there are so many trucks around.” He walked up the steps to the porch and set her suitcase on the weathered wood. It needed a coat of varnish if he or anyone else ever got the time—so in other words, it’d wait. “But if you need help hauling anything, you can hardly move without running into someone who’d be willing to give you a hand. If you need to borrow a truck, we can arrange that, too.” He peered down at her, noting she barely came to his collarbone. “Do you know how to drive a stick shift?”

  “It’s been a while,” she said, a hint of longing in her words. “So long I’ve probably forgotten how.”

  “I can give you a refresher course if you need me to.”

  A mischievous gleam hit her eyes, the corner of her mouth kicking up, and his pulse ratcheted up a notch. Then he put what he’d said together with another way it could be taken, and he got the type of jolt he experienced when he got too close to the electric fence.

  Jessica reached for the door handle. “See you bright and early tomorrow morning. Sure you all don’t want to eat breakfast more in the nine-ish range, rather than at six thirty?”

  For a second he wasn’t sure if she was kidding, or if she was already pushing the rules. See, this was why he wasn’t supposed to go making jokes and indulging in borderline flirting. Or thinking about how long it’d been, or how much he’d like to follow through on that refresher course.

  She nudged him with her elbow. “Don’t freak out. That was a joke. I’ll report for duty at oh-five-thirty so I can figure out the kitchen and get the food done on time.” She flinched a little as she said five thirty, but then she flashed him a smile. He could see she was still on the verge of breaking and suspected she’d disappear into the cabin and cry.

  Not much he could do about it, and he had work to do. He wished her a good day, told her to call the office if she needed anything, and headed back toward the corral, where several calves were waiting to be doctored.

  Halfway there, he glanced back toward the cabin. He could already tell the woman was going to be trouble with a capital T.

  Chapter 4

  Aiden was brushing down the reddish-brown coat of his horse, Koda, when Brady walked through the doorway of the stables.

  “Hey, can you wrangle up a cot?”

  “You want me to rope it?” Aiden teased. Words like wrangle didn’t used to be part of his vocabulary. Neither did words like stability and family, and he was only now starting to believe they truly existed.

  Brady cut the strings on a bale of hay. He tossed flakes over the stalls to the rest of the horses, who’d begun nickering as if they were starving, even though Aiden had fed them some oats before he’d taken Koda out for a ride. “Maybe if I give you an object to rope that doesn’t move, you wouldn’t miss.”

  “Low blow,” Aiden said, but he laughed. Horses came naturally. Roping not so much. He tossed the brush aside and double-checked the lock on the stall since Koda liked to play Houdini sometimes. “Where do you want the cot?”

  “In the girls’ cabin. Just set it outside the door.”

  “New recruit?” A year ago, he might’ve said new prisoner, but his perspective had changed—in spite of how hard he’d tried to hold on to his old opinions.

  “Yeah, new recruit and a new cook. A woman showed up and begged us to accept her daughter into the program, and it just so happens she’s willing to fill the cooking position, so we jumped on it.”

  Aiden tossed a flake of hay to his horse and then swiped his hands together. “By ‘we,’ I’m guessing you mean everyone but Wade.”

  Brady chuckled. “Not only are we at capacity, but he didn’t think the girl and her mom should be here at the same time. Breaks too many rules.”

  So had Aiden when he first arrived. He learned quickly that you follow the rules or else, and while Wade played enforcer a lot, he was always fair. Sometimes annoyingly so. Exceptions were part of life, but not where Wade Dawson was concerned. For months they butted heads, but somewhere along the way, mutual respect had grown on both sides.

  When it looked like he’d end up in the foster system yet again, Wade was the one who drove several hours to Grand Junction to plead a case in favor of Aiden staying at the ranch to train the horses. Aiden had stood in the courtroom, sure he was hallucinating as the guy who didn’t believe in exceptions made an exception for him.

  A few months later, the Dawsons brought up adoption. It was weird going from loner to a guy with parents and five brothers overnight, and sometimes Aiden worried he’d wake up and find out it’d been a dream. Or he’d screw up and they’d tell him to get lost.

  After all, how many people would want to adopt a sixteen-year-old problem child? Not many, which was why he worked long hours and suffered through homework. His adoptive mom wanted him to graduate from high school, and he wanted to make her proud.

  “Is the new girl any good at math? I could really use a tutor.” A free tutor. Allie, who ran the schooling side of the ranch, had helped as much as she could, but she was always busy, and unfortunately he didn’t connect with her teaching style. But he didn’t want the Dawsons to spend any more on his education than they already had. Thanks to not giving a damn about his grades or school for several years, he was taking about two years of schooling through a homeschool program that’d cost a pretty penny. Money the Dawsons shelled over like it was nothing, even though he knew they had a lot of stressful expenses that kept them up at night, especially when the hospital bills from Ma’s stay got thrown into the mix.