Page 44 of When a Cowboy Falls Hard
“Maybe before he leaves in the morning you should find a moment to run the idea by him and see how he reacts.”
“I’m certainly not doing that!”
“Why not?”
“Even if I said something, which I won’t, I can see myself chickening out. I don’t do this kind of thing, Mar. I just don’t.”
“Tough times call for tough measures.” Mari gestured toward her untouched mug. “Drink up. You’re wasting perfectly good cocoa.”
She glanced down. No steam. She took a sip. Mostly milk.
“You need a spoon.” Mari left the table and crossed to the silverware drawer. “All the chocolate has sunk to the bottom. Which come to think of it, describes your sex life.” She returned and handed over a teaspoon. “Come on, scaredy-pants, stir things up.”
“It’s scaredy-cat.”
“It can be either. Look it up. And scaredy-pants fits your situation better.”
“What if Tex finds out?”
“He won’t. It’ll only be a couple nights a week. You’ll leave after he’s asleep and return before he wakes up.”
“What if somebody at the Laughing Creek Ranch sees me coming and going?”
“News flash, ranch folks work hard during the day and sleep hard during the night. Leave before dawn and they’ll never know you were there.”
“Monty wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep, though.”
Mari started laughing. “If you think he gives a damn about that, you haven’t been paying attention.”
She ducked her head to hide a smile. Her sister was right.
“Are you doing it, then?”
“No. Seriously, it’s not me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Monty’s plan worked perfectly. He roused Tex before any light showed in the sky and the little guy took his shift. Monty stretched out on his bedroll with his eyes closed, pretending to sleep.
Tex spent the time telling stories to Speckles, her foal, and Smokey, but he kept his voice down. The tales included familiar characters — the Lone Ranger, Hoss Cartright, Bret Maverick, Roy Rogers.
Hard to keep a straight face during that earnest recitation. He’d seen those old shows as a kid, too. They’d probably live forever.
As dawn arrived, shining gently through cracks in the weathered barn walls, he stayed quiet, waiting to see what his young partner would do.
“Sun’s comin’ up, Smokey.” Tex climbed down from his stool, crouched beside the bedroll and patted him on the chest. “Wake up, Mister Monty. It’s morning.”
He slowly opened his eyes. Tex’s face hovered about six inches above his. “It is?”
“Yep! Speckles eated hay and Monty….” He made a sucking noise.
“He was nursing. Perfect. Just what they each should be doing.”
“Guess what? You gots a beard! It growed in the night!”
“I’ll bet it did.”
“Are you gonna shave it? Do you gots that cream? That goes ppffft and makes you look like Santa?”
