Chapter 2: Not Quite a Cowboy

Chapter 2: Not Quite a Cowboy

“They don’t even look like real cowboys.” I muttered the words under my breath low enough so that only my best friend could hear them. She turned her head in my direction and gave me a look that told me she had had enough of my whining and endless snarky commentary. We’d gotten up early to fly out of San Francisco and had landed in Billings, Montana, only to then hop on a teeny-tiny charter flight that brought us out to Sheridan, Wyoming. It had been a day filled with travel, and my sarcasm and snark were at an all-time high. Partly because I really had no interest in being here, but mostly because, for the last few months, I’d been a miserable human being to be around and I couldn’t seem to rein in my bad attitude, even when I really wanted to. She was getting tired of it, and frankly, I couldn’t blame her.

“Just because they don’t have on cowboy hats and leather chaps doesn’t mean they aren’t cowboys; you have no idea what a real cowboy even is. When have you ever been on a ranch before or traveled any farther east than Las Vegas? The closest you’ve been to any kind of cowboy was when we went to see Garth Brooks a couple of years ago. You promised to keep an open mind, and so far you are sucking at it.”

I sighed and shifted away from Emrys. Her dramatically shaped eyes could see right through me and I didn’t need a guilt trip from her when I already felt like crap. I turned my attention back to the three men standing before us and begrudgingly admitted to myself that two of them could pass as the sexified, carefully marketed country music version of what a cowboy should be. They could easily give Luke Bryan a run for his money with the way they were packed into their tight jeans. They were both more than passably attractive from what I could see under the brims of their matching camo baseball hats, the ranch’s logo stitched on the front. When they introduced themselves, I found out that they also had what I would consider authentic cowboy names, Sutton and Lane. I wasn’t sure which one was which because I was completely distracted by the third member of the not-so-welcoming committee. He was the one I was specifically talking about when I made the ‘not a cowboy’ comment. He looked as out of place on this working ranch in the middle-of-nowhere Wyoming as I felt. He was also watching me just as closely as I was watching him. His name was Cyrus… which was maybe a cowboy name but to me sounded more like the ruler of some ancient kingdom. In fact, he would fit in way better in Sparta than he did here on the range. The thought made me snicker, which got me an elbow in the side rom Em, even though I kept the wayward thought to myself.

The man, who most definitely didn’t look like a cowboy, didn’t have any kind of hat on so there was no mistaking the fact that his narrowed eyes were locked on me. His lack of headwear also revealed that he had his dark hair buzzed in a trendy undercut and styled back in a way that required product and know how. Two things I would never associate with an actual cowboy. It also showed that he had the faintest hint of silver at his temples above his perfectly even sideburns. Even with the dusting of gray, I still only put him at somewhere in his early- to mid-thirties. The silver in his hair should make him look prematurely aged, but it didn’t. He looked tough and distinguished, and if he was dressed in something other than lovingly worn Levi’s and a faded Jack Daniel’s T-shirt, he would give the executives and CEOs who I did business with a run for their money in the silently intimidating department. Not that I could imagine any of the men I worked with looking as good as this one did. He did something special for that cotton T-shirt that stretched tightly across his broad chest. And the way he impatiently shifted his weight from one heavy-looking black boot to the other pulled denim tight around places I should be embarrassed to be looking. I wanted to ask him why he had boots on that belonged on a Harley rather than in the stirrup of a saddle, but I didn’t want another sharp poke from Em, so I kept my musings to myself.

No, the man named Cyrus didn’t fit what I had thought would be waiting for me when I agreed to this crazy plan of Emrys’s, and if he hadn’t walked out to greet us with the other two men when the passenger van we had taken from the miniscule airport dropped us off, I would have automatically assumed he was part of the tour group and not one of the guides. He didn’t look like what I expected someone who was intimately familiar with the outdoors or the inhospitable and uninhabited terrain of the Wyoming landscape to look like. His rough appearance and unwavering gaze made me question again why I had let Emrys talk me into this vacation that sounded more like punishment than any kind of fun I was familiar with. I was even more hesitant to venture off into the wooded mountains than I had been before, as my stare-down with the man dragged on and on to the point that I knew looking away would mean some kind of defeat. I wasn’t sure what the battle I was engaged in was about, but I was a sore loser at the best of times, and considering I was at the lowest point I’d ever been, I knew there was no way I could be the first one to break eye contact. I loved my best friend, but at the moment I could happily strangle her for deciding we needed this girl’s only trip that would force us both to unplug and regroup over the next week.

“You ladies are the last of the group to arrive. We’ll get you settled in and then everyone can meet in the main house for dinner so we can all go over what to expect for the next week.” It was the guy in the middle who spoke. He was the shortest of the three and he was the only one who seemed capable of smiling. The man with all the muscles and the scowl kept watching me, while the last guy looked bored and annoyed. His expression indicated that he felt like he was being put out having to play welcome wagon for a couple of city girls. Considering this little jaunt was costing both Em and me an arm and a leg, the least these not-quite-cowboys could do was roll out the welcome mat and pretend that they were thrilled to do so. We were paying for an unforgettable experience, and so far they had delivered, but not in a good way.

I stiffened my spine and narrowed my eyes. Unfortunately, my intimidation factor was nil considering I was dressed in comfy leggings and an oversized Henley that I stole from my ex. My outfit was great for traveling in, but not so great for trying to look like a badass who wouldn’t stand for the blatant indifference coming from a third of the trio who was supposed to be responsible for my health and wellbeing for the next seven days. I also wasn’t going to keep quiet over the overt hostility radiating off the one I couldn’t look away from. I was one of those women who was always a little unkempt and disheveled, so I had to work at appearing put together and polished. It was a constant battle every single morning as I got ready for work. I could pull off cute with minimal effort, but it took some time and some serious skill with both my clothes and my makeup to push me into the chic and professional sphere. Considering I had woken up at the ass crack of dawn, my wardrobe, hair, and war paint were nonexistent. With my unruly, wavy, strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, I was keenly aware that I looked more like Raggedy Ann than a highly successful market analyst who was also a street-savvy and independent woman. Or at least I had been, until I fell for the wrong guy and he proved otherwise.

The single pleasant member of the trio smiled again and inclined his head toward the bags sitting at our feet. When Em had booked the trip they had been very clear that this was an outdoor adventure. We would be venturing deep into the mountains on horseback and we were to leave any kind of technology and civilization behind us. There had been strict instructions on what we needed to pack, and as a result, the bag at my feet was stuffed full and contained mostly new and untried mountain appropriate attire. It was all stuff that would end up shoved in the back of my closet and then, years later, donated to Goodwill because I had very little use for any of it in my day-to-day life back in the Bay Area.

“Sutton and I will take your bags and show you where you’re bunking for the night. You ladies have about an hour before dinner, so you can relax and get freshened up.” Getting freshened up sounded delightful. Maybe if I put on some blush and drew my eyebrows in, I could get Mr. Personality—with the death stare—to take me seriously when I told him that his behavior was unacceptable.

The bored guy must have been Sutton because he took a step forward and bent to pick up Emrys’s bag. I thought I heard her sigh when he bent over but it could have been the air shifting and moving around me. The man, who looked like he didn’t belong anywhere near a place that was often referred to as the ‘Cowboy State’, took a few steps closer to me. I had no choice but to tilt my head back and look at him. I sucked in a breath as I was struck by the sharpest, clearest, most flawless pair of gray eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were the color of smoke and silver. His eyes cut through me like the honed blade of a knife as they raked over me, from my messy hair to the toes that had curled up in startled response where they were encased in a pair of super-comfy Uggs. Again, my choice in footwear had been great for traveling in, but not so great for leaving the most impactful first impression.

Cy’s voice when he spoke was deep and raspy. It sounded slightly broken and jagged, like maybe he didn’t use it a lot and when he did, it took a minute for the words to find their way out. It was the kind of voice that belonged to a real cowboy “This isn’t a spa or some kind of all-inclusive retreat where your every want and need is catered to, Ms. Connor. This is the wild, wild west, and if you don’t listen to the boys and pay attention to what they are telling you, then things can go bad faster than you can blink.” There was a warning there, but all I could think of were nights around the warm campfire and even warmer nights in the bedroom. He had a voice that made me think about rough sex and talented hands that I wouldn’t want to say no to. “Sutton and Lane are good at dealing with girls from the city who want to come out and play cowgirl, but I would advise against looking at them like they aren’t fit to carry your bags or like they somehow aren’t meeting your high standards.” Cy had a great voice, but goddamn, did his personality leave a lot to be desired.

So, smiley was Lane and grumpy was Sutton. Emrys had read the brochure aloud to me no less than twenty times when she was trying to convince me that we needed this vacation and that I really, really needed to get away. So I knew from the literature that the men who owned the ranch and ran the excursions were all brothers. From his protective stance, the attractive silver in his hair, and by the way he was trying to put me in my place for some perceived slight, it wasn’t hard to guess he was the big brother… emphasis on big. I was totally normal sized, hovering a tiny bit over five-six, but this guy towered over me and he has zero problem with his intimidation factor. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t loom or posture. He simply stood in front of me and his words, with their rasp and growl, made me shiver in both fear and awareness.

“I am aware this isn’t a spa or a retreat, Mr. …” I blushed and trailed off as I realized I’d been too busy evaluating him and his ability to keep me alive over the next week rather than paying attention to the introductions.

“Warner, but I’m Cy to most folks.”

I cleared my throat and begrudgingly stuck out a hand for him to shake. “Okay, Cy, I wasn’t looking at any of you in any way. I was just wondering about the qualifications you have to take a large group of inexperienced people into the wilderness. I think that’s a pretty fair concern to have. We seem to have simply gotten off on the wrong foot.” That happened a lot with my lack of filter and overt honesty. I had a hard time keeping my foot out of my mouth and here I was chewing on my shoe, again.

“I’m Leora, but most of my friends call me Leo.” My hand was left extended between the two of us for an uncomfortable amount of time until I let it fall as he continued to stare at me. I felt Emrys shift next to me and I became acutely aware that this little standoff was no longer happening between just him and me. His brothers were also standing a few feet away, watching our tense interaction with curious expressions. I’d promised my best friend that I would go into this with an open mind. I assured her that I would embrace the change of scenery and do my best to enjoy myself. Lately, I’d been a super-shitty friend, so I owed it to Emrys to keep my promise, even if this man, who was not quite a cowboy, seemed determined to prove me right in my thinking that coming here was nothing but a mistake.

“Sutton and Lane will keep you alive because that’s their job. They’ll also make sure your trip is worth every single penny you spent because our reputation is everything in this competitive market, and, lucky for you, they actually enjoy what they do. Their qualifications are outlined in all of our literature and clearly displayed on our website. Just because they may or may not look like your version of qualified wilderness guides doesn’t make them any less skilled or competent.” Boom! He took blunt and in-your-face to a whole other level. Part of me respected that, as much as it made my hackles rise and spine snap straight in irritation. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be on the other side of my brutal honesty when I forget to pull my punches and play nice.

I took a step back and opened my mouth to retort that he, not either of his admittedly attractive siblings, was the one I thought appeared to look under-qualified to guide us into the woods and through the mountains. Emrys put her hand on my forearm and intervened before my inherent Irish temperament really flared to life. I was ready to go toe to toe with this big, unpleasant man. In about a second flat, I was going to demand my money back and berate him for his rudeness and tactlessness. As always, when I was fired up and ready to go off halfcocked, Em waded in and threw water on the fire that was getting ready to ignite.

“Forgive my friend, Mr. Warner. She’s a born and raised city girl and I think she’s just feeling a tad bit intimidated by all the fresh air and peace and quiet. I assure you that we are both extremely grateful for your time and we’re so excited to be here. We’re both looking forward to seeing what your wonderful state has to offer.” Her elbow dug into my side and I turned my head to give her a dirty look. “Isn’t that right, Leo?”

I rolled my eyes at my mostly flawless best friend and wondered how she could look so refreshed and unrumpled after a day full of traveling. Where I was pretty average all around, Emrys Santos was anything but. She was tall, standing close to six feet without the aid of high heels. Her shiny, sable-colored hair hung flat and perfect along her back, like it had never heard of humidity or static electricity. Her dark eyes, which were currently pleading with me to behave, had a slight slant to them that only added to her overall exotic, undeniable beauty. She was almost perfect, except for the fact that she was interfering, determined to get her own way, and could guilt trip like no one’s business.

She knew I was having a hard time with my most recent breakup. On top of that, I was having issues at work, the one thing in my life that had always been stable and in control. But she pushed, prodded, and pleaded until I had agreed to spend this week with her in the great outdoors, even though roughing it was absolutely not my thing. Part of me wanted to tell her she had to deal with the fact I was here but less than thrilled about it, but a bigger part of me knew she was just trying to help, and doing her best to wrestle me back on track. So I corralled my rebellious temper and bit my tongue, giving her a stiff nod of agreement. Cy’s iridescent eyes sparked with humor and I swore he knew I was fighting to behave.

I bit out through my teeth and through a smile that was so fake it actually hurt my face, “Like I said, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”

The only response I got was a grunt as his attention turned to the other two men, who were purposely ignoring the heated interaction between me and their older brother. In fact, they both had moved a few steps away like they knew their older sibling’s anger was hot enough to burn anything that got close enough for it to touch. Gruffly, he barked out, “Go ahead and get them situated, I’ll head up to the house and make sure Brynn knows everyone is here.”