A Cowboy Worth Waiting For
Autor
Melinda Curtis
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23
HarlequinCHAPTER ONE
“WADE KELLER, you need me.” Ronnie Pickett’s pert little nose was thrust high in the air, and her silky black hair swung from beneath her black cowboy hat.
Wade Keller’s chest heaved, and it wasn’t because he’d just jogged out of the arena after a semi-successful bareback bronc ride at a rodeo north of Tulsa. Ronnie’s words yanked the rug from beneath his widower feet.
“I’m starting a matchmaking service. Now, you need a wife and Ginny needs a mama,” Ronnie explained matter-of-factly, smiling kindly at Wade’s ten-year-old daughter. “I’m going to find you the perfect woman.”
Gaping, Ginny stared up at Ronnie with an expression that was half-worshipful and half-shocked.
Ronnie had that effect on people. She was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to something. Wade just hadn’t expected her mind to be set on finding him a wife.
“Ronnie’s right.” Wade’s father beamed at her as if her conclusion had flipped a light on in his nearly bald head, currently covered by a wide white Stetson. Frank Harrison was actually Wade’s foster father, although sometime during the past twenty years, Wade had stopped attaching the “foster” label to him or any of his other foster family members. “You should hear Ronnie out.”
And marry again?
Wade shook his head. Normally, he gave credence to his father’s opinion, but not today. He stared Ronnie straight in her big dark eyes and said, “Not interested.”
Wade’s score from his ride on Graveyard Express was announced. As he’d suspected, it wasn’t going to be high enough to put him in the money. His rhythm had been off. He’d been lucky to stay on for eight seconds but not lucky enough to place.
Another waste of a Saturday entry fee.
He couldn’t afford to lose anymore. Disappointed and annoyed, Wade took Ginny’s hand and tried to move past Ronnie.
She stepped in front of Wade, cutting him off. “Not so fast.” Ronnie tossed her hair over her shoulder as if she were a bronc tossing off an inexperienced rider. “You’ve been avoiding me, and that’s bad because you need me.”
Wade hesitated, struck by those three words once more: You. Need. Me.
Do I need Ronnie Pickett?
Currently, Wade was on a dismal losing streak. Some would argue that he needed something. But was matchmaking Ronnie—and a second wife—the answer to his prayers?
He took stock of the petite woman in front of him. Never one to shy away from color, Ronnie was dressed like a Valentine’s Day card—shimmery red boots, a bright pink flowered button-down and blue jeans with white flowering vines climbing up her seams. She was the polar opposite of his wife in practically every way—louder, more colorful, more assertive. And wherever she went, a well-meaning accident was sure to follow.
Do I need Ronnie Pickett?
If forced to decide right now, he’d have to say no.
And so, he said just that, “No.”
“But—”
“Whatever you’re selling, Miss Ronnie—” he gave her a stern look “—I’m not interested.”
Ronnie put her hands on her slim hips. She’d been bold in high school and emboldened by every rodeo win in her short barrel-racing career. He could remember a time when a dare combined with her magnetic, brash character and dark, silky locks had enticed him to ask her to Clementine High School’s junior prom. She’d thanked him for asking and told him they were too much alike to be a couple. And then she’d pointed out that her shy, quiet friend Libby worshipped the ground he walked on and was just what he needed.
And oddly enough, she’d been right. He and Libby had become a couple. After high school, they’d gotten married. They’d been well-suited. He’d been happy until Libby passed away.
A lump tried to fill Wade’s throat.
Didn’t mean Ronnie was right about him needing a wife and mother for his little girl. After losing his parents when he was in middle school and losing Libby two years ago, Wade didn’t think he could take any more heartache. Love was risky.
While he’d been sorting through his thoughts, Ronnie’s mouth had been moving. It was only her last words that sank in. “Wade Keller, do you want to be lonely in your old age?”
Thirty-two wasn’t old. And living on the Done Roamin’ Ranch was never lonely. Many of his brothers still lived and worked on the D Double R.
Wade pushed his hat back, stared Ronnie down and got right to the point. “I don’t mind being alone.”
Wade’s father chuckled the way he did sometimes when he thought one of his sons said something illogical. Given the number of cocky, full-of-themselves teenage boys Frank and Mary Harrison had taken in as fosters at the D Double R over the years, Frank’s life had been filled with laughter.
Wade set his jaw. “I’m too busy to go looking for a woman.” He had his plate full helping his parents and brothers run their rodeo stock company, competing in bareback bronc riding and raising a little girl.
“I know you’re busy. That’s why I can do the searching for you.” Ronnie bent her knees until her face was level with Ginny’s. She fussed with the set of his daughter’s cowboy hat. “You want your daddy to be happy again, don’t you, Ginny?”
Talk about low blows. Wade frowned.
Ginny nodded slowly. “Daddy doesn’t tell me jokes no more.”
“Any more,” Wade corrected automatically.
“You lost your heart for dad jokes?” Ronnie rose to her full height, which meant the top of her black hat barely reached Wade’s shoulder. Her nearly black eyes sparkled the way they did when she thought she was winning. “This is serious, Wade. You can’t go pining away like this.”
The way she teased him...
It reminded Wade of the experiences they’d shared as kids, including times most wouldn’t call good but ones he cherished, nonetheless.
He didn’t want to revisit those memories.
“Mary and I have been telling you to date since last summer.” Wade’s father upped the ante with his two extra cents. “Ginny needs more than just a daddy to look after her.”
“She lives on a ranch with her grandparents and a passel of uncles.” If anything, Ginny had too many cooks in the parental kitchen.
“But she doesn’t have a mama,” his father insisted, as if two parents were necessary, like two wheels on a bicycle.
“A mama would buy me dresses I like,” Ginny said, wide-eyed and sad-faced, clearly trying to help play Wade into Ronnie’s meddlesome hands. “And teach me other girl stuff.”
“That’s enough from you two,” Wade grumbled, feeling outnumbered.
“We can all see what’s happening here.” Ronnie rubbed Wade’s arm consolingly.
Her touch was soft and friendly. There was no reason Wade should feel the impulse to cover her hand with his or draw her closer. This was Ronnie bossy Pickett!
“People always protest too much when they deny the truth,” Ronnie said with a superior smile.
He’d always been partial to that smile and...
Yowza! What had come over him? Ronnie had said herself fifteen years ago that they were too much alike and not romantically compatible.
Wade turned his gaze away from Ronnie’s glossy red lips. “There is no truth and no denying. I’m a bachelor now, and I’ll be a bachelor until the day I die. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Ronnie, I’ve got to stow my competition gear and then help my family manage stock for the rest of this rodeo.”
He walked away from the would-be matchmaker. But he could feel her gaze upon him, as unsettling as her touch.
MOST PEOPLE ATTENDING a rodeo were spectators, a level removed from the action.
Veronica Pickett wasn’t competing anymore, but she was no spectator sitting in the stands eating popcorn. That was something she couldn’t bear. The dust, the noise and excitement of rodeo life had been a part of her DNA since she was a little girl watching her daddy compete in the bronc riding event.
She’d followed in his footsteps. Sort of.
She was a former barrel racing title holder, former rodeo queen and current spokesperson for Cowgirl Pearl Fashion. She lived for the action in and out of the arena. When Ronnie showed up at the rodeo nowadays, she spent a little time doing meet and greets for Cowgirl Pearl, checked in with her friends who were competing, and then had all the time in the world to be a spectator.
If only she was the spectating type. She couldn’t sit still. She was a fixer. And what she liked to fix most was other people’s love lives. She had a track record to validate her matchmaking skills. But it was only recently that she’d decided to use that talent to make sure Wade didn’t wallow in the grief of Libby’s dying from a brain tumor.
Before Libby passed, she’d asked Ronnie to watch over Wade. If only the stubborn man would make that easy. He’d become something of a recluse. For nearly a year, she’d been trying to fix him up, but he’d rejected every invitation she’d extended for coffee or dinner. It was time to go to extremes.
After much thought, she’d come up with a plan. Everyone knew she had a love of, and a knack for, matchmaking. Everyone also knew she had a history of starting businesses that eventually failed—a bothersome reputation, but the truth, nonetheless. What if she leveraged the two? No one would be too surprised to learn she was starting a matchmaking business. And no one would be too surprised if that business failed...after she found Wade a wife.
But darn that Wade Keller. He’d turned her down.
Was my pitch all wrong?
Perhaps it needed refinement. She sometimes conducted herself like a bulldozer when a broom would do, especially when she was nervous.
What she needed was another run-through of her pitch.
Ronnie planted her fancy red boots in the back corridor of the auditorium where the rodeo was being held and raised a hand to stop a handsome bull-riding cowboy. “Cord, didn’t you get dumped last month by Mitzy or Mandy or Molly someone?” She couldn’t remember the woman’s name.
“Millie.” Grinning, the lean blond cowboy grabbed hold of Ronnie’s elbows. “Are you finally asking me out? Because the answer is yes!”
Ronnie gently pinched Cord’s cheek, trying to say without sayin’ that she was too old for him. He was barely out of high school, and her thirtieth birthday was fast approaching. “I’m starting up a rodeo matchmaking service. Are you single or not? I’ve got a list of cowgirls looking for love.”
Or at least, she hoped to have one by night’s end. Currently, she only had two women on board.
“Love?” Cord scoffed, rubbing his cheek without losing that mischievous grin. “Who needs love when I can offer charisma?”
“You mean a good time?” Ronnie softened her words with a gentle smile. “Reputations travel fast on the circuit, Cord. Good-time cowboys are usually popular with the ladies only if they’re winning.” And Cord hadn’t been lately.
“You’re full of low blows today, Ronnie.” Wade passed by. He’d shed his competition accoutrements—his bright orange leather-fringed riding chaps, his wrist wraps, elbow support and such. He looked like any regular working cowboy as he headed toward the holding pens, presumably to help his family continue the smooth flow of stock the rodeo relied on for bull and bronc riding, steer roping and steer wrestling competitions.
Wade had an athletic build with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes that were easy to get lost in since they didn’t do a good job of hiding the pain of his past. Two years ago, he’d been the points leader in the bronc riding field in the Prairie Circuit. Now, as a widower, he was trying to work his way back to the winner’s circle. But he was as out of sync with life as he was with the broncs he’d drawn to ride.
Distant. Unapproachable.
Or just uncatchable, if the pace his long legs set was any indication.
That man’s a challenge.
And she wasn’t sure she was up to it.
The pressure of Ronnie’s promise to Libby wrapped around her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Low blow,” Cord said, repeating Wade’s sentiment with a chuckle. “Look at me. I have no need to swipe those dating apps. And I won’t hire a matchmaker unless someone like Wade Keller is on your roster and blissfully happy because of it.”
My sales pitch really stinks.
Ronnie held on to her smile, trying to look as if she had a secret where Wade was concerned. “I’ll get back to you on that Wade Keller thing. But you’d best sign up soon, or you’ll be dateless on Valentine’s Day.” Which was less than a month off.
Cord laughed again. “Honey, I’m never dateless.” He spun away, heading toward the chutes.
Behind Ronnie, Wade’s brothers from the D Double R herded bulls through a funnel toward the arena and cowboys waiting for a ride. The crowd noise increased, shouts mingling with applause until Ronnie couldn’t distinguish individual voices of those walking past.
She stepped out of the flow of foot traffic to give herself a pep talk. Optimism and determination had always been her superpowers. Admittedly, things didn’t always go her way or as planned. But Ronnie was good at bouncing back and landing on her feet.
I will find Wade a wife. She hugged that thought, drawing several deep breaths as she focused on another mantra: Count your blessings.
She had two women interested in dating Wade. All she needed...was Wade.
I can convince him.
She’d find a moment alone with the former bronc riding superstar to persuade him to date again. She knew that would be a tough order. Since Libby died, Wade wasn’t just avoiding her but everyone. He didn’t hang around for idle chitchat, not at the rodeo or in their hometown of Clementine, Oklahoma.
“You look like you just lost the rodeo queen crown.” Bess Glover separated herself from the stream of cowboys and cowgirls passing by. Ronnie’s BFF flicked the brim up of Ronnie’s black felt cowboy hat with one finger. “That is, you look the way you did that time you lost the rodeo queen crown to me.” She laughed warmly, softening the tease.
“I would have earned the crown first if I hadn’t started dating Quinn Lachey during rodeo week.” Quinn was a very short-lived footnote in her dating history. Ronnie absently straightened her hat, drawing Bess to her left but keeping her gaze on her friend’s face. “Quinn can charm anyone. It was a minor error of judgment on my part. I should have known better, but his sweet-talking was awfully sweet. I couldn’t resist.” After she’d lost, Quinn had broken up with her, claiming Ronnie was too high maintenance.
More like my standards were too high.
Bess rolled her eyes.
“I learned my lesson.” And she’d won the next year. Ronnie gave Bess an assessing look, from her tame red locks to her spotless brown cowboy boots. “You haven’t agreed to sign up for my matchmaking service.”
“That’s because I’m your friend. And friends don’t enter into financial agreements with friends.” Bess and Ronnie had known each other since grade school, same as Ronnie and Wade. Nowadays, Bess was a teacher and Clementine High School’s rodeo coach. She had boxes and boundaries for everything, including, it seemed, friendship.
“I know the type of man who’d be perfect for you,” Ronnie told her. Someone who’d help Bess cut loose sometimes without worrying about being judged or being seen as imperfect.
Wade Keller!
“I have too much on my plate right now to date,” Bess said. She turned and stepped into the path of one of her former rodeo team members, now a barrel racing contender.
“That’s the excuse everyone gives,” Ronnie muttered, crossing Bess off her list of potential candidates for Wade.
Bess and her former trainee talked a few feet away, but their words were lost to Ronnie in the buzz of the crowd noise.
Ronnie waited for Bess to finish. She wasn’t good at waiting. She was go-go-go, which made Wade’s roadblocks that much more frustrating.
“But I won’t give up, Libby,” Ronnie said softly.
Her older brother Hank appeared at her side, waiting to speak until she looked at him. “Are you okay? You’re talking to yourself.”
“I’m fine. I haven’t broken anything today or made a mess of this.” Ronnie mustered an enduring smile as she extricated her arm. Admittedly, she wasn’t the most nimble on her feet, she did sometimes rush into things without thinking, and her enthusiasm occasionally resulted in what some might call disaster. Her childhood had been a string of mishaps and misunderstandings. But Ronnie had found her stride as a barrel racing competitor and in the rodeo realm. For the most part, she was adulting with flying colors. If only her family didn’t still treat her as if she’d only thrive within their overly protective embrace. “Did you make that heifer stock trade?”
“Yep.” Hank had a faraway look, as he often did since he’d taken over running the Pickett Ranch while their father served in the state house. And then he seemed to come back to the present, smiling again at Ronnie. “Are you ready to go?”
“Not yet. I’ve still got business to conduct.” There were lots of events yet to be run, and she wanted the chance to recruit more potential matches for Wade.
“Fair enough.” Hank leaned closer to Ronnie to say, “Be ready to go in two hours. We want to beat the traffic.” He stalked off, disappearing into the throng of cowboys streaming toward the stock pens.
“Did Hank sign up to be matched?” Bess asked, taking Hank’s place next to Ronnie. “He should. You’ve been successfully playing matchmaker since we were kids. Look at Wade and Libby, Pascal and Mina, Jacqueline and Monte.” She ticked Ronnie’s triumphs off on her fingers. “Dan and Tilly, Ebony and Lucas, Trixie and Gerald. Do I need to go on?”
Ronnie shook her head.
Bess grinned. “That’s because you know and everyone else knows about your expertise.”
“You think I can do it?” Ronnie asked, a bit breathless by her friend’s support. “Charge for matchmaking?”
The thought gave her pause. Her plan had been to find someone for Wade using the launch of a matchmaking business as a cover. But do this for real?
“Yep.” Bess scanned the passersby. “But you need to build your client list the way I build my rodeo team roster. First, recruit one standout, someone everyone respects and secretly aspires to be.”
Wade Keller.
A man as stubborn as the day was long.
“And two solid athletes that are hard workers without big egos,” Bess added.
John Garner and Tuf Patterson.
Two other popular, as yet unmarried, competitors on the circuit.
She ruled out Cord. He was already in love—with himself. Ronnie saw that now. She had to sign people ready to settle down.
If I do this... I need to refine my sales pitch.
Ronnie wasn’t sure she wanted a matchmaking business for real. There was always the chance that she’d muck up the business side, and then she’d be unable to make matches casually. Not that there were many of her friends left single who were interested in finding love. Not that she could find fault with her friends who wanted to remain single. She was of the same frame of mind.
“Find your standout. And then their friends will all want to tag along,” Bess said decisively. “Now’s the perfect time to build the foundation of your team, Ronnie.”
“Right. Here I go.” Ronnie marched off, if not to start a matchmaking business for real, at least to find a woman Wade could spend the rest of his life with.
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