Nancy O'Berry--Romance Writer

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Cowboy Love
by Nancy O'Berry
© October 2009

Thunk! The car door slammed and broke the silence along the rows of stores that lined Main Street like a gun shot. Sandy grimaced. She didn't need another angry word. Pulling her sweater around her tight, she couldn't help but wonder, wasn't the West supposed to have seldom a discouraging word? Why then, had she heard so many? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before entering the store.

"Morning, Karen," she said to her boss.

"Morning," Karen replied, looking up with a smile.

Sandy wanted to groan. The sight of Karen's happy face was almost too much to bear. Her footsteps heavy, Sandy moved around the counter and stowed her purse beneath it. A forlorn sigh escaped her lips. She jumped when a comforting hand landed on her shoulder.

"Want to talk about it?"

Sandy's chin trembled and the story spilled from her lips.

"Well, all newlyweds struggle," Karen assured her. Leaning over, she pulled the box of tissues toward her and yanked several out, depositing them in Sandy's hands.

Sandy snubbed then wadded the tissues together to dab her eyes. "It was stupid," she admitted. "God, I shouldn't have let him go to work thinking I don't love him."

Karen smiled. "I'm sure he doesn't think that."

Hanging her head, Sandy replied in a small voice, "We didn't even kiss goodbye."

Karen squeezed her hand. "It will all be forgotten come supper."

Hearing the words was one thing, believing them another. Still, Sandy nodded, but deep down her heart didn't want to believe. After two years of marriage, this was their first big fight.

***

Up from the swirls of dust, Gordon Smith thought he heard his name called. He took a gentle pull on the lunge line and slowed the cantering horse to a stop. The bay filly twitched her ears at his soothing words. She showed no fear of him at all. Gordon sighed, wishing his young wife felt the same.

He gathered up the lunge line as the horse walked toward him. All the while his thoughts centered on the blonde with the blue eyes and freckles. This morning, those eyes were awash in tears and all because he got a second notice on a bill.

"Gordon."

This time there wasn't any doubt.

Reaching in to his back pocket, Gordon produced a sugar cube and held it out for the filly to take. Her ears pricked forward and she gobbled up the sweet treat. Turning to the cowboy on the rail, he ran a loving hand along the horse's neck.

"What's the problem?"

"You've got a phone call," the cowboy answered, holding up the cell. "It's Karen."

Gordon's heart flipped over and dove toward his toes. Leading the horse over to the rail, he exchanged the lead for the phone and slipped through the railings. "Walk her a bit to cool her down," he told the kid. Then holding the phone to his ear, he strode to the shade beneath the old oak tree.

"Hello?"

"Gordon, this is Karen,"

"Morning," he replied. Karen's voice seemed to be at a whisper as though she were avoiding someone overhearing the conversation.

"I hate to bother you," she continued. "But, it's about Sandy."

The air left Gordon's lungs as if sucker punched and his hands grabbed hold of the phone tight. "Is Sandy all right?"

***

The old Ford pick-up stirred a cloud of dust as he roared into town. Why didn't she just tell him, fool hearted woman. His fingers tightened on the wheel as he swung into the bank parking lot. An open space near the rear provided him protection from being seen. Gordon didn't have to wait long before she appeared across the street.

He watched her wait for the light, then cross. A man in a western cut business suit tipped his hat and held the door open for her. Gordon grimaced as she offered him one of her sweet smiles. He waited until she disappeared into the building before grabbing his own Stetson and stepping out.

Gordon turned the large side mirror on his truck toward him and made sure his hair was neat before sliding his sunglasses on his face. With his hands, he brushed the shoulders of his shirt clean and then brought the toes of his boots down the back of his trousers. Presentable, he marched toward the lobby of the bank.

***

Sandy stood with the bank bag, waiting patiently for her turn. She felt someone staring and looked to the left, catching the eye of the man who'd opened the door. He was a lawyer downtown, however she couldn't recall his name. The bank doors opened again and the person before her stepped up.

Lord, the teller seemed to be moving so slowly. Sandy wanted to hurry and get back to putting the inventory on the shelves. Doing such mindless work allowed her to think. She so needed to think. How was she going to tell him?

The bank bag fell from her fingers and landed with a clatter of the change in side. She bent to pick it up just as the man behind her did the same.

"Excuse me," Sandy replied as their fingers brushed.

"No problem, little lady," came the drawl.

Sandy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Tell me, does your husband know you're out and about?"

Tell tale heat rushed to her cheeks. "My husband is at work."

"A lucky fellow," the man nodded.

"Yes, I think so."

Lord, she was forgetting to breathe.

"Tell me," the cowboy continued. "Does he tell you that your eyes are as blue as a robin's egg or that your hair smells like sunshine?"

Sandy lowered her head and a coy smile pulled the corners of her mouth toward her eyes. "Sometimes, I wish he'd do it more often."

"He should," the cowboy said with a nod.

"We-we had a fight," she began again twisting the bank bag.

"Fights are a terrible thing," the cowboy began. "Often over the most trivial stuff."

"Oh, it was. You see, I forgot to pay a bill. I-I was excited about some news."

"Did you tell him?"

Sandy shook her head. "No, didn't have chance. I got all side tracked when he became cross."

"Do you plan on telling him?"

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"How?"

Sandy swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced up at the handsome man. The shadow of his hat hid his eyes. She wished they were visible so she could read his thoughts. Clearing her throat, she began.

"Well, I'd apologize first for raising my voice."

"A little lady like you is entitled to raising her voice from time to time."

"Thank you," Sandy mumbled. "Then, then I'd tell him I'm sorry I forgot to pay the bill, but after I went to the doctor, I just couldn't think."

She watched his mouth become a firm thin line.

"Are you ill?"

"No, not exactly," she whispered.

"Next please," a woman's voice called out.

Sandy turned and realized she needed to step up. Turning away, she was shocked to feel his hand around her arm, dragging her toward the side of the room. Startled, she looked to the line and the next person behind them stepped up.

"You're causing a scene," she hissed.

"I'm curious," the cowboy replied, standing so close now she could smell the hint of saddle soap where he had been working with leather. Sandy felt her lust grow.

"Curious," she repeated, her hands touching the buttons on the flaps of his shirt pockets. She drew a deep breath feeling the firm muscles twitch beneath her fingers, "About what?"

"What you were telling him."

"Oh, well, you wouldn't be interested," she replied and turned away.

She had gotten no further than a step before his hand snaked out and pulled her to his chest. My how they fitted together, her breast flattened to his chest, their hips nearly touching and the heat of his arousal pressed against her middle.

"I'm very interested," he told her.

"So, you are," Sandy said half-aloud. Her head turned to look at him. "I'd tell him that despite his best efforts and mine, the protection didn't work. It seems that in seven months, we'll have yet another mouth to feed."

Her blue eyes searched his face as her words sank in. The hands on her back stilled.

"Another mouth to feed," he repeated.

She bit her lip and nodded. "I know it's not the right time. But the antibiotics I took for a cold last month messed with something. The pill was ineffective."

A stunned look crossed his face.

"Gordon," Sandy's fingers grasped his arms tightly. "Gordon?"

"We're going to have a baby?"

She nodded.

"We're going to have a baby." he said it again.

"Yes, a baby."

Gazing down, Gordon raised his hand and brushed a thumb across her face. "I love you, Sandy. Can you forgive me?"

"I already have," she assured him.

Gordon lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. He felt her answer back with an intenseness of her own.

"Miss, Miss?" Someone tapped her on her shoulder.

Gordon broke the kiss and looked over at the women tapping his wife's shoulder. "Good day, Mrs. Branch."

"Humph, your wife needs to make her deposit. Kissing in public, what gotten into you young people?"

Sandy turned from the warmth of her husband's embrace. "I'm going to have a little buckaroo," she whispered. "And I hope he grows up to be just like this one."

"He?" Gordon repeated with a broad smile.

The woman's face broke into a broad grin. "Then carry on, cowboy, carry on." She nodded and walked toward the door with her head held high.

"Thank you Mrs. Branch, I sure will," Gordon said and pulled Sandy back into his embrace, "Now, where we?"

"We were right here," Sandy replied as she leaned forward to kiss her husband again.