flirting with other women, very little dancing with other gals, and for sure no going to a motel with one of them or bringing one of them home.
He’d stood under the water longer than he’d thought, so he had to hustle to get ready. He got out his lucky Saturday night boots, the black ones that hardly ever let him down.
Alana was supposed to be ready at eight o’clock, and he knocked on her door with five minutes to spare. No one answered, so he rapped harder.
“Hey.” Matt came from around the end of the house. “Alana told me to tell you to meet her in the barn. I’ve got a cattlemen’s meeting I can’t miss tonight over in Tulia. I’m already going to be a few minutes late, so I’ll let her explain.” Matt hurried over to his truck, settled in behind the wheel, and sped off.
Pax crawled back into his vehicle, picked up his phone from the passenger seat, and called Alana. She was breathless when she answered. “I’m so sorry, Pax, but I can’t go to the Wild Cowboy. I’ve got two heifers having trouble delivering. I’m in the first barn, and I could use some help.”
“Be there in five minutes,” he said and ended the call.
He drove down the rutted path to the barn closest to the house. He got out and jerked off his good boots, grabbed his old black rubber boots from the bed of the truck, and shoved his feet down in them. His jeans and shirt could be washed, but he sure didn’t want to ruin his lucky boots.
The barn door squeaked when he slid it open, and Alana yelled, “I’m back here.” She came out from a hallway between rows of stalls and met him in the middle of the floor. She wore jeans with holes in the knees, a chambray shirt over a dirty white tank top. Strands of blond hair had escaped her ponytail, which had a piece of straw dangling from the end. “I’m a mess, but I can’t leave the heifers, and all the hired hands are gone, and Daddy has a meeting…”
He took her in his arms and said, “We’re ranchers. This is what we signed up for. There’ll be other Saturday nights when we can dance at the Wild Cowboy. Let’s check on those two heifers.”
“You’re a good man, Paxton.” She led the way back to the stalls. “I did so enjoy the thought of dancing with you all night, but I’m sure glad that as ranchers we understand each other.”
“I was feelin’ the same way about you,” he said as he opened the stall and checked the first heifer. “First calf, right?”
Alana nodded. “She and the other one are both out of my personal herd. They belong to me, not the ranch. I’ve raised them from babies. I probably shouldn’t have bred them to our prime bull, since he always throws big calves.”
“This ain’t my first time pullin’ calves.” Pax went over to the other stall and dropped to his knees. “This one will come first. If we’re lucky, she won’t need much help. She’s a little bigger than that one over there. Now, all we can do is wait, and I had a mind to do some dancin’. I got to warn you, I’m not nearly as smooth in rubber boots, though.”
“Here in the barn?” She frowned.
“Come on now, Alana.” He stood up, took her by the hand, and led her out into the middle of the barn.
“You got a country music band hiding in the bed of your truck?” she asked.
“Nope, don’t even have a jukebox.” He laid his phone on a bale of hay and hit the playlist that he listened to when he was plowing. “But I don’t need either one to make enough music so I can dance with a pretty lady.”
“So you think I’m pretty?” She wrapped both her arms around his neck.
“No, Alana, I think you’re beautiful.” He pulled her close to him and dropped his hands to her waist. Having her in his arms set off the same jolts of desire that he’d felt every time he touched her—crazy thing was that even though he’d been with lots of women, he’d never gotten such a feeling with any one of them.
They swayed to Kenny Chesney and David Lee Murphy singing “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright.”
“You really believe what they’re saying?” she asked.
“You don’t?” he shot right back.
“No, I do not. My daddy won’t be with me at