Judy Duarte - The Cowboy's Double Trouble

A truck engine sounded outside, announcing that their first customer of the day had arrived. She secured the hair clip that held the thick, dark mass of curls away from her face, neck and shoulders while she worked.

Moments later, a man and two children entered the store. The kids both appeared to be Hispanic and didn’t resemble the blond-haired cowboy in the least. So her interest was immediately piqued.

When the little boy noticed the rabbits on display, he immediately brightened. “Conejitos! Bela, mira!”

The girl—his sister, Elena guessed—hurried to his side, and they each found a bunny to pet.

Elena turned to the fair-haired cowboy, who stood about six foot one. When he noticed her, a pair of dazzling green eyes locked on to hers and sent her heart rate on a mad scamper to find a normal pace.

Too handsome for a local cowboy was the first thought that came to her mind.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Not unless you run a day care center out back.”

Elena laughed. “Only when my mom brings my younger brothers and sisters by the store. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged a single shoulder. “Just my attempt to find humor in a sticky situation.”

She lifted a brow, and he slid her an easy grin.

“I’m looking after these kids for my brother,” he said, “and they don’t speak English. So I’m in a real fix when it comes to communicating with them. I’m doing my best, but I have to find a bilingual nanny—like yesterday.”

Elena felt a tug on her sleeve. When she glanced down, the little girl with large brown eyes and lopsided pigtails pointed to the rear of the store, where the boy had wandered over to a display of straw cowboy hats. He’d apparently knocked several to the floor.

“Sorry about that,” the handsome cowboy said. “I’ll get those picked up.”

“Don’t give it a second thought.” Elena strolled to the table display and smiled at the boy. “No es problema, mijo.” She helped him restack the hats, then took one and placed it on his head. In Spanish, she asked if he wanted to be a cowboy.

He smiled, revealing a missing front tooth, and nodded, the oversize hat flopping forward and back. “Si, yo quiero ser un vaquero como Señor Braden.”

So he admired “Senor Braden” and wanted a hat like his. She glanced at the fair-haired cowboy, then back at the boy, who was pointing to the man. Then it clicked.

“Now I know why you looked familiar,” she said. “You’re Braden Rayburn. Your great-grandmother owned a ranch near here.”

“Yes, and my maternal grandpa owned... Well, I now own the Bar M.”

“I was sorry to hear about your grandfather’s passing,” she said. “My dad told me that he attended his celebration of life. I’m afraid I was still in Austin at the time.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t recognize you. But then again, my grandpa was the one who always picked up supplies or had them delivered. After my rodeo days, I spent most of my time on the ranch.”

She reached out her arm in greeting. “I’m Elena Ramirez, Paco’s daughter.”

He took her hand in his, enveloping her in a warm, calloused grip that sent her senses reeling. “No kidding? I knew Paco had a lot of kids, but I had no idea that he...” His voice trailed off, but she knew what he’d been about to say. He hadn’t realized Elena was one of them. Well, that’s not a surprise. She found it difficult to believe at times, too.

“I’ve been away at college,” she said. “And for the past four years I haven’t been back to Brighton Valley as often as I should have.”

Before either of them could speak, the boy walked up carrying a black and white bunny. “Perdona me, señorita. Quanto dinero por el conejito?”

She smiled at the little guy and said, “Cinco dolares.”

“Did he want to know how much the rabbits cost?” Braden asked.

Elena nodded. “I told him five dollars. But you’re in luck. We’re running a sale this week. They’re two for eight.”

Braden put up the hand that had once gripped hers to motion a halt. “Sorry, but no way. I have two children more than I can handle as it is—not to mention a couple of stray cats they found this morning.”

She glanced at the kids, who’d returned to the rabbit cage, clearly enamored. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? Look at them.”

“I’m tempted—but only because Beto has managed to stay out of trouble for five minutes.”

She smiled. “Actually, my brothers and sisters have pets. It teaches them responsibility.”

“What did you major in at college?” Braden asked. “Child psychology?”

She laughed. “Business, actually, with a minor in art.”

His grin deepened, creating a pair of dimples in his cheeks, and his green eyes sparked. “You’ve got a talent for sales. I’d say it might be wasted at a small-town feed store.”

She felt the same way, although she’d never come out and tell her father that. He hoped she’d stay at home forever, but she had plans to make her mark in the world—and in a big city.

“I only plan to be here until the first of the year,” she said. “I’ve been saving money to eventually open up my own dress shop in Houston.”

His gaze swept over her, from her red Lone Star Hay and Grain T-shirt, to the faded blue jeans with a frayed hem, down to the old boots she wore, then back up again.

She tossed him a smile. “Believe it or not, when I’m not working here, I do have a bit of fashion sense.”

“I’m sure you do.” A boyish grin suggested he might have found her attractive in spite of her well-worn clothing.

Her heart fluttered at the thought, but she tamped it down. She wasn’t looking for a cowboy, especially one who was local. “As I was saying, the sale on small animals we’re running is actually advertised in the newspaper. It was my idea because those little critters can sure multiply if you aren’t careful.”

Braden chuckled. “It would serve my brother right if, when he returned, I gave him the kids as well as two rabbits.”

“I like the way you think.” Elena studied the handsome cowboy, who was tall and lean—broad shouldered, too.

From what she’d heard through the rumor mill, Braden Rayburn was one of the most eligible bachelors in town, and quite a few of the local ladies had him in their sights.

But looking at Braden in that Stetson and those Wranglers certainly could make a woman—well, maybe another woman—rethink her career path.

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. “Quiero dos conejos, por favor.”

Elena laughed. “It looks like Beto can afford to purchase rabbits for himself and his sister.”

“Where did he get the money?” Braden asked.

Elena turned to the child, first taking time to speak to him long enough for him to introduce his sister, Maribel, whom he called Bela.

She laughed at Beto’s animated explanation about how he received the cash, then interpreted for Braden. “He said he earned it—fair and square.”

“Is that a direct quote?”

“Not exactly. But it’s close enough. It seems that Beto here is quite the negotiator. He bartered a horned toad for the cash.”

“With whom?”

“Apparently, the nice man who brought him to the United States paid him to give up his new pet.”

“That would be my brother,” Braden said. “But Jason is a suit-and-tie sort of guy. What would he want with a horned toad?”

“My guess is that Jason paid Beto so he could take custody of it, then turn it loose, although that’s just an assumption. But from what I gathered, it seems that Beto’s horned toad nearly scared the bejeezus out of Jason’s wife. I have a feeling she may not have wanted to sleep in the same house with it.”