Vicki Thompson: Cowboys Like Us

Her grandma Bonnie, who had raised her, joyfully and without complaint, deserved all Caro’s free time. Caro had been a baby when her parents divorced, and Bonnie had welcomed her daughter and granddaughter into her house. When Caro was twelve, her mother had died in a blizzard on her way home from work. Grandma Bonnie’s strength had seen Caro through those dark days and taught her that a person had to be resilient to survive life’s tragedies.

Her dad had started a new family by then, but Caro had never seriously considered living with him. She’d stayed with her grandma in the only home she’d ever known. Selling that beloved house so that she could afford assisted living in Jackson for the increasingly frail Bonnie had broken both their hearts.

Caro visited her grandmother every day in hopes she wouldn’t feel abandoned, but she obviously wasn’t happy with the move, necessary though it had been. For the first time since Caro had known her, Bonnie had lost her resilience and optimistic outlook. Caro had to be optimistic enough for both of them.

Lately Caro had done nothing but work and visit her grandma. No wonder she’d been bewitched by a heated glance. Besides, she’d been predisposed to find this ex-baseball player intriguing.

Alex had warned everyone to tread carefully around Logan, whose wicked knee injury had ended his career and the dream he’d cherished from the age of seven. He’d made it to the big leagues and then to the Cubs, the team he’d always wanted to play for. Now he was done.

Caro had never been able to resist a person in need of comfort, a trait she’d picked up from her grandma. Besides, Logan was gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that made her think of hot nights on cool sheets. Good thing he’d be gone soon. Once Alex and Tyler left on their honeymoon, Logan would have no reason to stay.

She filled several orders while Logan whirled around the dance floor with Josie, but somehow, about the time he returned to his root beer, she happened to be standing at that end of the bar. She hadn’t meant to.

Oh, shoot, yes she had. He was the most exotic man to come her way in quite a while. Mostly she dealt with cowboys. Logan might be wearing the outfit and dancing the two-step like a pro, but he was no cowboy.

Instead, he was a professional athlete from the big city. She didn’t know much about baseball, but she knew Logan was hot.

He settled onto his stool and heaved a sigh. “That’s challenging.”

“But you do it well.” The action of those tight buns on the dance floor had created a serious distraction from her bartending duties.

“Close enough for jazz.” He took a long swallow of his root beer.

“What does that mean?”

He glanced up. “What?”

“Close enough for jazz. I’ve never heard that before.”

“Sorry. It’s something jazz musicians say, meaning that there’s a lot of improv going on when they perform.”

She felt a little bit like a hick, but she was fascinated, nevertheless. Besides, if she kept this conversation going, she’d have an excuse to gaze into those brown eyes. “Chicago’s known for its jazz, I guess.”

“It is. I don’t suppose that’s the kind of music you …”

“Not normally, but I’m always ready to learn something new.” No, that statement wasn’t strong enough. She hungered for something new, something different. She’d lived in Shoshone all her life. Travel had been a luxury she hadn’t been able to afford beyond an occasional trip to Yellowstone.

But this man, who’d jetted around the country for years, represented adventure beyond her wildest dreams. She found that irresistible.

Picking up a bar rag, she began wiping up imaginary spills. “Shoshone must seem small to you after spending so much time in big cities.”

“Actually, it’s a nice break. I can see why Alex is so crazy about the place. The Grand Tetons are amazing.”

“I agree. They are. But I’m sure the Chicago skyline is amazing, too, especially at night.”

“It is,” he said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.

Damn. She felt like an idiot. Of course he wouldn’t want to talk about the wonders of Chicago and be reminded of losing the job he loved. “The Tetons are great, though. Wonderful for hiking. You should—” She groaned as she realized she’d made a mess of this discussion. “But you have a bad knee. You know what? I should just shut up.”

He laughed. “It’s okay. I forget about my knee all the time, until I stay on it too long and it lets me know.”

“Can you ride? Because you could take a horse up into the mountains, if it wouldn’t be too strenuous.” She’d bet he would look terrific mounted on a horse. Yum.

“I’ll have to brush up on my riding skills, but I’ve been thinking about that. Do you ride?”

“I know how, but lately I haven’t had the time.” She refused to allow herself to be resentful of her grandma, but still, a trail ride with Logan would have been fun.

“Caro.” Steve, looking pale, appeared at her elbow. His short buzz cut was dark with sweat. The room was warm, but not that warm. “I hate to do this to you, but my stomach’s going wonky. Feels like food poisoning. I must have eaten something bad earlier today. In any case, I gotta go home.”

She put her hand to her own tummy, which had immediately rolled in sympathy. “That’s terrible. Don’t worry about the bar. Just go home and get better.”

“Thanks. I can take your shift tomorrow if you want.”

“Only if you’re well enough. Get out of here, cowboy.” She sucked in a deep breath as Steve opened the hinged bar top and headed toward the back door. She’d counted on him to get her through this first big event, but she could manage, especially if the party started to wind down soon.

But Murphy’s Law was working against her. The minute Steve left, the band took a break and wedding guests swarmed the bar in search of drinks. Fighting down panic, she squared her shoulders and grabbed an order pad. No way could she keep all those drinks in her head.

“You handle the beer and wine. I’ll mix the drinks.”

She looked up from the order pad and discovered Logan had joined her behind the bar and was already reaching for a couple of martini glasses.

“No, you shouldn’t.” She put a hand on his shoulder—his very warm, very muscled shoulder. Instantly, that heat spread through her body. Whew. “You’re a guest. I’m sure Josie could—”

“She’s the sister of the groom. She shouldn’t have to work tonight. Besides, I want to.” He set the glasses on the counter and gave her a quick glance before picking up a bottle of vodka. “It feels great to be useful for a change.”

She couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Didn’t really want to, actually. If helping her would make him feel better about his lot in life, even for an hour or so, then she couldn’t deny him that. And she’d get the benefit of working side by side with the hottest guy in Shoshone.

“Okay, then,” she said. “But only until it slows down.”

“Right.” He picked up a martini shaker, flipped it high in the air and caught it behind his back.

Someone in the crowd whistled.

Logan winked at Caro. “You know, I’d forgotten how much I used to love this job.”

Oh, baby. He was positively delicious, and Caro was the lucky girl who got to co-bartend with him for an hour or so. She would never wish ill on anyone, but in that moment, she was really glad that Steve had ended up with food poisoning.

BEFORE JUMPING IN TO help Caro, Logan had spent a couple seconds weighing the pros and cons. Josie had asked him to stay away from Caro, but then again, Josie hadn’t anticipated Steve getting sick. Logan had seen the panic in Caro’s eyes when the band had stopped playing and the surge toward the bar had commenced.