The Cowboy Takes A Wife

“Is your mom that...persistent all the time?”

“In a word, yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

His apology, when he’d done nothing wrong, took her aback. But then it clicked that he was simply sorry she had to deal with that kind of pressure.

She shrugged. “Nothing new.” She pointed inside. “So, let’s see these sculptures your mom has been raving about like you’re the Michelangelo of Blue Falls.”

Cole snorted as he accompanied her inside. He flicked on the overhead lights as they walked into the barn. The first thing she saw was a beautiful roan horse that looked their way with large, dark eyes, a reminder that this was a working ranch even if Cole dabbled in art as a hobby.

“Who’s this handsome fella?” she asked as she approached the stall and rubbed along the silky smoothness of the horse’s jaw. It was obvious at a glance that Cole took good care of his horses.

“This here’s Duncan.” He scratched the horse between the ears.

“Duncan?”

“Named after Duncan, Oklahoma, where I won my first pro rodeo.”

“Ah. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Duncan.”

The horse sniffed at her hand then rubbed his head against her.

“He’s a big flirt,” Cole said.

“I can see that.”

“Come on.” Cole motioned for her to follow him. “My work area is back here.”

Devon did her best not to admire Cole’s physical attributes as she followed him to the back corner of the barn, where he’d knocked out the dividers between a few stalls to create a bigger space. In the middle of that space was a sculpture of a rearing horse, mane flying. It took a second look for her to realize that the whole was made up of many pieces that used to be parts of other things.

She stepped up close and slowly made her way around the horse. An old, rusty, metal tractor seat, chains, a muffler, truck rims and countless pieces she couldn’t identify shouldn’t be able to come together to make something so beautiful, but they did.

“It’s stunning,” she said, in awe of the obvious talent she would have never thought to attribute to Cole.

“That’s overstating it a bit.”

She shifted her gaze from the horse to Cole. “No, it’s not. Not everyone could do this. Heck, not everyone could even think this. If I were to see this stuff separately, there’s no way I could imagine how to put it all together to come up with something like this.”

Cole leaned against the side of the stall and crossed his arms, showcasing just how incredibly nice and tanned and strong those arms were. Yeah, she might have a thing for men’s arms.

“Well, we must be two really talented individuals then because my idea of soap is grabbing it at the grocery store.”

She shuddered, making him laugh. Her heart filled with puppies and rainbows and sparkly unicorns. Why did he have to have a sexy laugh, too? Didn’t he know she was trying to be friends, nothing more? Of course, he didn’t.

Devon shushed the conversation going on in her head and turned to look at some smaller finished pieces that sat along the back wall. A small bison, a cowboy sitting on a fence, even a starfish. She pointed to the starfish.

“This one reminds me of that game, ‘which of these is not like the others?’” She turned back toward him to see his expression dim for a moment.

“Reminds me of a vacation we had when Cooper and I were kids. Only time we went to the beach. I remember walking along holding my dad’s hand and we found a starfish. Mom still has a picture of me squatting down in the sand next to it with the goofiest grin on my face.”

Devon smiled at the image in her mind. “How did you get started doing this?”

“Would you believe rodeo?”

She turned more fully toward him. “Not connecting the dots here.”

He pushed away from the side of the stall and propped his hand atop one of the posts. “I was riding in a rodeo up in Wyoming and had some time to kill. Went to a local museum, and they had this kind of sculpture out front. A whole herd of bison. I thought it was neat, and the idea stuck with me. When I retired, I thought I’d give it a try in my spare time.”

She wondered if he was using the sculpture work to fill a void. “I was surprised when I heard you retired. You seemed like you really loved riding bulls, though personally I think it’s insane.”

Cole laughed. “You and my mom, both.” He shifted his gaze to the metal horse. “It wasn’t by choice. But my old body couldn’t take it anymore.”

His old body? From what she could tell, his body was perfectly fine. More than fine. Superfine.

Oh, stop it.

He appeared to notice her confusion. “Was thrown too many times. Doc told me that if I didn’t want to risk being paralyzed the next time I hit the dirt, I’d better hang it up.”

Sickness coiled in Devon’s stomach at the image of Cole in a wheelchair. For a man like him, it might kill him. At least kill the person he was, how he identified himself.

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

“Yes. Yes, it does.” He stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the metal horse’s neck. “But I stay busy so I won’t think about how I thought I had a few more good years of riding in me.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that doesn’t work as often as you’d like.”

He looked at her with a surprised expression, eyes slightly wider, then gave a single nod. “But at least I’m still walking, right?”

She could tell he was making light of the situation when probably, deep down, he hadn’t fully come to terms with it yet. She couldn’t imagine how brokenhearted she’d be if she were to lose the farm and the shop. But they weren’t the type of friends who bared all their emotions to each other. At least not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Yay for mobility. Allows us to run away from our matchmaking mamas.” As soon as she said it, she wished she could rewind time a few seconds.

But Cole laughed. “You picked up on Mom’s intent, huh? Sorry about that. She’s got a hankering for grandkids and hasn’t accepted that she’s not going to get them from me.”

His words caused a sadness to settle on Devon. Not that she thought the two of them were going to make babies or anything, but he seemed so certain. His assertion had a finality to it that didn’t invite argument. It seemed a shame not to carry on his family line and those magnificent genes.

“You don’t like kids?”

He shrugged. “They’re fine, but I’m never getting married again. And if I had kids, I’d want to be around for them, not part of a broken family. I’d want them to have what I did growing up.”

She envied his fond thoughts of childhood. When she looked back, what overwhelmed her were feelings of inadequacy and trying to find ways to make herself feel better and less alone.

Devon resisted the urge to ask about Amy, what had happened. She didn’t even know his second wife’s name. Maybe Cole was right to steer clear of marriage after that track record, but something about that thought didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t have any real basis other than he seemed to be a nice guy and loved his mom, but Devon thought Cole Davis might make someone a good husband. But the right someone.

Like you?

No, not me.