Catch Me a Cowboy (8 page)

But guilt was a useless emotion. Lyle was gone, and she had no baby to comfort her. It was sad, but she wasn’t going to let it turn her into a bitter woman who couldn’t enjoy her sweet niece and goddaughter. She was stronger than that.

Of course, she re-evaluated her strength when a lusty cry had her almost jumping out of her Manolos.

With her heart thumping, she turned to the closed bedroom door. Between a chainsaw-wielding midget and a screaming baby, she’d choose the midget every time. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like she had much of a choice. The cries were so pathetic she couldn’t help but answer them.

She opened the door to find a baby girl sitting in
the center of the sagging mattress, her chubby cheeks streaked with tears and her blond hair sweat-matted to her head. Shaken, it took a moment for Shirlene to react, but in that moment someone hit her in the back of the knees and knocked her down to the stained carpet.

“Mine,” the same deep voice from the night before growled.

“Hold her, Brody! I’m comin’!” another male voice joined in. This one was higher and most definitely belonged to a kid, a kid who dove on Shirlene’s back like a WWF wrestler. She reached back to push him off, but that was a mistake. The kid looped a rope around her wrist, and within seconds had her hands tied together. She kicked at him, but he lassoed each of her ankles. With a hard pull, her heels snapped up to meet her hands.

It was the most stretching Shirlene had done in years, and it hurt like hell.

“Time!” the kid yelled and jumped off her as if she was a rodeo steer and he an expert roper. A pair of beat-up cowboy boots appeared in her line of vision. A pair of cowboy boots she recognized immediately.

“Jesse!”

The boots jumped back out of view, but not before he’d picked up the baby bottle. The springs of the old mattress creaked, and the crying stopped immediately.

Jesse Foster had moved to Bramble about a year earlier with his mother and three siblings. The boy had befriended her brother, Colt, but Shirlene had yet to warm up to the kid. And right now he wasn’t making it any easier.

“Let me go this instant, you little delinquent!” Shirlene yelled as she struggled to get free. But the little delinquent had done a great job of hog-tying her.

“Too bad, so sad,” came his sassy reply.

Shirlene scooted around so she could see the boy. The redheaded brat sat on the mattress holding his little sister and feeding her the bottle. His demon eyes twinkled back at Shirlene as he showed off his chipped front tooth.

“Why, you little ornery punk,” she said, “when I get untangled from here, I’m going to blister your butt—something your mama should’ve done a long time ago.” She pulled at the ropes and rocked back and forth, but all it did was make her neck ache and give her a Charlie horse in her leg.

“My mama don’t believe in spankin’s. And you won’t get untangled,” the ornery kid said. “Kenny Gene taught me how to tie a rope, and everyone knows that he used to rope in the rodeo.”

Great. Shirlene rolled her eyes. When she got a hold of Kenny Gene, she was going to blister his ears with a long list of reasons why you should never teach a kid rodeo skills. While she was mentally cussing Kenny, a pair of chubby legs came into view. They folded right in front of her, and she found herself staring into a pair of bright brown eyes beneath a fringe of uneven bangs.

“Mine,” he growled in his unusually deep voice before he cracked Shirlene right in the head with the naked Barbie doll he held in one fist. Not just any Barbie, but Shirlene’s.

“You,” she hissed, and Brody scuttled back a few feet as she lifted her head and turned to look at Jesse. “It was you and your little brother who scared me and Sherman the other night.”

“It wasn’t that hard to do. You’re the biggest chicken-livered girl I’ve ever met—even more than Mia.”

If she could’ve gotten loose at that moment, she
would’ve easily paddled the kid. But the rope was too tight, and the position too awkward, to do more than rock back and forth like a fishing bobber on a line. Finally accepting defeat, she flopped back on the floor. Brody stared at her, his mouth smeared with jelly and his eyes big as saucers. Realizing that anger was getting her nowhere, she tried a different tactic.

Lifting her head, she flashed a smile at Jesse. “Now, sweetie. I realize I surprised you and your siblings, but I’m not mad at you for usin’ my trailer as a playhouse—although your baby sister really needs to be watched by someone a little older.”

Jesse glared back at her. “I’m old enough.”

Not wanting to rile the kid, she let it go. “Now, that’s not here nor there. What I’m trying to say is I’m not gonna tattle on you to your mama. This little mishap will remain between you and me. In other words, if you’ll untie me, I’ll just be on my way, and no one will be the wiser.”

Jesse’s eyes narrowed as he stared back at her. Finally after several hamstring-stretching minutes, he spoke.

“You mean you’ll leave and never come back?”

Seeing how the trailer was hers, the little brat was asking a lot, but with her toes and fingers going numb, she really didn’t have much choice. Besides, she didn’t have any plans to return to Grover Road. Ever.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Since her neck was killing her, she rested her head back down on the floor. Time ticked by, punctuated by the baby’s gentle sucks. Finally the mattress squeaked, and Jesse’s boots appeared in front of her.

“You’ll need to take a blood oath.”

“A what?” She lifted her head and tried to look Jesse
in the eye, but all she could see was his baggy jeans and stretched out Spiderman t-shirt.

“A blood oath,” Jesse solemnly stated. “I won’t believe you if blood’s not involved. Go get your scissors, Brody.”

The little boy jumped up and disappeared from sight.

Scissors? Blood?

Shirlene quickly tried to get control of the out-of-control situation. “Now, wait a minute, Jesse. I don’t think scissors are such a good idea. Besides, a man is only as good as his word, and I’m more than willing to give you my word.”

“But you ain’t a man.”

Damn.

“No, I’m not,” she conceded. “But I’m an honest west Texas woman. You can ask anyone in town.”

He flopped down in front of her. “Honest ain’t a word that comes up when people are talkin’ about you.”

“And just what words come up?”

His freckled face scrunched in thought for only a second before he spoke. “Wild. Im-puss-ive. Gold digger.”

Shirlene’s mouth dropped open. “Why, that gossipy bunch of—”

“Where do you dig for gold around here, anyway?” Jesse cut in.

“Never you mind,” she huffed. “And I’m not doing any blood oath, either. I give you my word I won’t be back, and I won’t. In fact, I’m selling this place just as soon as I can.”

“Selling it?” Jesse yelled as he jumped to his feet. His loud voice set the baby to crying again. Brody walked back into the room holding out the scissors, but Shirlene had already screwed up the blood oath, and Jesse slapped
them out of Brody’s hand as he screamed. “You can’t sell it! You can’t! Where would we live?”

Before Shirlene could even digest that piece of shocking information, Jesse raced out the door like the hounds of hell were after him. And if Shirlene ever got loose, they would be. But for now, she was stuck with two screaming kids, for as soon as Jesse disappeared, Brody started crying in his deep wail.

Flopping her head back to the floor, Shirlene rested there for a minute with her ears ringing while she tried to figure out what to do. Since she couldn’t do anything trussed up like Thanksgiving dinner, she figured that was the place to start. Lifting her head, she tried to speak over the cacophony, and at the same time keep her voice soothing.

“Brody. It’s okay, honey. If you can just come over here and untie Shirlene, everything will be all right.”

Brody stared back at her and let out another bellow, which set his sister into a higher-pitched mode. Shirlene might’ve joined in if she hadn’t spied her purse lying on the floor.

“Candy, Brody,” she yelled. “Do you like candy?”

Brody’s crying fizzled, although the baby kept screaming. Still, it was enough to give Shirlene hope.

“If you help me get untied, Brody, I’ll give you a candy bar.”

The little boy stared at her for only a few seconds before he scooted across the dirty carpeting and leaned over her back. But the knots proved too much for his little fingers—that and the fact that he refused to let go of the Barbie. Shirlene had almost called it quits when she noticed the pair of scissors on the floor.

“Brody, honey, see those scissors? Get the scissors, Brody.”

The kid took directions well. But once he had the scissors in his little pudgy hand, Shirlene had second thoughts.

“Do you know how to cut, honey?” she asked as she stared at the ends that no longer looked so blunt. “Maybe it would be better if you just ran and found a grown up. Kids your age probably shouldn’t be using scissors—”

Before she could even finish the sentence, he reached out and lifted the strand of hair that had fallen over her face. And with one efficient snip, he cut it off.

Too stunned to speak, Shirlene could only stare at the lock of hair the child held up triumphantly. But when he reached for another strand, Shirlene screamed louder than the baby. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the little haircutting tyrant from wielding the scissors like Edward Scissorhands. Two more chunks fell to the floor before Sherman came charging through the door, scaring the kid so much that he dropped the scissors and began to wail again. Not more than a second later, both Brody’s and the baby’s wails suddenly cut off.

Shirlene dropped her head down to the carpet that was now strewn with her silky hair. How did her life get to be such a mess? A year ago, she had been the wife of the wealthiest man in town without a worry in the world. Now, here she was in a rundown trailer with more problems than she could deal with. She had no money. No credit cards. No house. And now no hair. She might’ve cried right then and there if a pair of scuffed cowboy boots hadn’t appeared in her line of vision.

Except these boots didn’t belong to a little delinquent.

These belonged to a big one.

“W
HY
, M
S
. D
ALTON
, if I had known you was into bondage, I would’ve pulled out my handcuffs last night,” Billy drawled as he stared down at the woman, who was tied as snug as a rodeo steer awaiting the buzzer. He smiled as his gaze swept over the sexy-as-hell, sky-high heels that were pulled back against the generous curve of her bottom.

“Bubba,” she groaned. And his smile got even bigger.

“I’m glad you’re so happy to see me.” He glanced first at the baby who sat on the mattress watching the pig, and then over at the little boy who cowered in the corner watching him. “’Course, if we’re gonna have any fun, we’ll have to figure out what to do with your rug rats.”

“Would you stop messing around, Wilkes, and untie me?” she commanded.

For a moment, Billy considered leaving her right where she was. But then his gaze got snagged by the little boy’s big brown eyes, and he knelt down and picked up the scissors. Although he couldn’t help but throw a little fuel on the fire.

“You’re probably right. With a sassy woman like you, it would take all night to properly instruct you in the basics of servitude.”

“Just cut!”

“See what I mean?” Billy teased as he leaned over her. The scissors were blunt, but fortunately the jump rope was weak. Once she was free, Ms. Dalton’s legs dropped to the floor, and she moaned in pain.

Billy might not care for the uppity Ms. Dalton, but he wasn’t completely immune to her suffering. Reaching out, he slipped off first one high heel and then the other before he started to massage the feeling back into her feet.

“God, that hurts,” she mumbled into the piles of blond hair that had fallen over her face.

“Give it a minute,” he said as he worked.

Like the rest of her body, her feet weren’t petite. But they weren’t ugly either. They were long and narrow with a high arch and a perfect row of toes that were painted a bright red. Billy had never much cared for red, so he couldn’t explain the sudden desire to bend down and suck the sweet little pinkie toe into his mouth.

What the hell?

He dropped the foot like a hot potato. It thumped down to the floor accompanied by a gasp of pain.

“Gee, thanks,” she grumbled as she rolled to her back and sat up.

Always observant, he noticed two things: one, the swell of her breasts against the soft material of her shirt—which considering their size didn’t make him all that observant—and two, the blond hair that remained on the floor. His gaze snapped back up to the short cropped hair that stuck out by her temple.

“Don’t you dare say a word,” she hissed.

He didn’t even try to bite back the smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

Her hand lifted to her hair, and her eyes narrowed on the little boy who still stared at Billy as if he were the Big Bad Wolf.