Page 69 of Risking it for the Cowboy

He galloped alongside their Rover opposite the fence, pulling back the reins as he neared the house. Swung his leg over, and jumped down, opening the gate, and walking the horse through.

Daisy was already out of the SUV, barely in park, running toward him, as he pulled his work shirt out of the saddle bag and slipped his arms into it, and yet, she slowed apprehensively, stopping several feet from the horse. Awe and uncertainty warred in her eyes.

“He don’t bite, Daze. Wanna pet a real-life unicorn?”

She leveled a glare at him, like a little carbon copy of Charlie, giggling. “It’s just a horse, T. Rex.”

He chuckled. “Naw, the ones like Beau here, with these stars on their forehead?” He stroked his horse’s forehead to muzzle, caressing the starburst beneath his forelock as Charlie got out of her Rover, joining them. “This here’s where their horns are hidden. It’s how you know it’s a unicorn.”

For the first time, her eyes widened as if she might actually believe his teasing.

“Shame on you, Thaddeus.” Charlie laughed.

“C’mere, darlin’,” he said, holding out his hand to Daisy.

But also, to Charlie, winking.

“I think you’ve decided to make her crazy for you.” Charlie shook her head. “She’ll never want to go home if she gets to pet a horse here.”

His hand tightened on hers. Can’t say I’d complain.

Daisy inched closer to him, craning her neck to look up at his docile beast, neck damp with sweat as he shivered away a fly and swished his tail.

Daisy’s fingers met his, and he brought her hand to Beau’s muzzle as Charlie, too, reached out to stroke his face. Beau dipped his majestic head, snorting at Daisy’s fingers, his whiskers tickling her. She giggled. T.R. opened her palm and cupped it to the horse’s cheek as Beau sniffed her bun and lipped at it.

“Can’t eat her, old man,” T.R. teased the horse, and Daisy giggled harder, cringing, but this time, not shying away. “There you go, Daze. Keep on pettin’ him.” He guided her in front of him, bracing her shoulder from behind in one hand and the bit with the other to hold Beau’s head down to her. “That’s it … aw, he likes when you pet his neck like that. Loves scratches right…” He guided her hand to his shoulder joint. “There.”

Beau grunted his approval.

“You found the way to his heart, Daisy. You’re a natural unicorn tamer,” he teased. “You heard the old country song about unicorns? ‘And the loveliest of them all, was the un-icorn’.” He crooned the old Anderson song. “Green alligators, and long-neck geese … your momma ever sing that song to you?”

Daisy shook her head, smiling up at him and taking in the lyrics. “She doesn’t really sing.”

“What?” He snorted, eyes flashing to Charlie. “Why the helllleck heck not?” he corrected, squeezing her hand.

Daisy kept petting Beau. “I hear her humming sometimes when she plays the radio, but that’s it.”

He held Charlie’s gaze but at this, she peeled away, shaking her head at him, and hopped up onto the porch, knocking. Didn’t play banjo. Didn’t sing. How could she let that bastard silence her? She oughta throw her God-given talents in his face and make him eat the ashes. Maybe he could help her find her way back to her dream.

“Well, my grams sang it all the time to me and my cousins,” T.R. continued. “I ever tell you, she’s the one who got me playin’ music? Started me on a fiddle, and up in this here farmhouse there’s an honest-to-God photo of me about your age with a western shirt, gold fringes, mind you”—he poked her nose and she giggled—“and a belt buckle as big as your face singin’ on my school stage, fiddlin’ until the horsehairs frayed.” His hands indicated the belt buckle size as Seth opened the door.

Seth, arm in a sling, leaned against the door in an old tank, slouched jeans, and boots. On the cusp of manhood but not yet there. Daisy saw him. Smiled and drifted away from the horse, around the Rover, and up the steps. Oh boy, that puppy love. The girl was definitely sweet on him if just the sight of him could lure her away from the horse.

“Hey, Seth, is your dad here?” Charlie asked.

T.R. tossed Beau’s reins over the railing and hopped up on the porch behind her.

Seth thumbed to his dad way out in the field with his uncles, in town in the wake of Seth’s accident, droving the herd.

“I’ll text him,” Seth mumbled, barely noticing Daisy beside him.

T.R. slipped a hand around Charlie’s waist and leaned into her ear surreptitiously, pulling her aside. “I thought about you all night.”

She blushed, the heat of it against his lips ghosting a smile across his mouth.

“You file that restraining order yet?” he added softly by her ear, as Tyler galloped back from the field.

“Not yet.”