Cowboy Defender Read online

  Clay bit back a sigh of frustration. It was obvious she didn’t intend to have much of any conversation with him. He didn’t get it. He’d never done or said anything to make her any kind of angry with him. Was she this way with all men? He’d never heard of her dating anyone since her divorce.

  “Mr. Clay?” Henry eyed Clay with speculation. “Do you know how to play baseball, Mr. Clay?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Clay replied. For just a moment he remembered being young and on a ball field, the only place on earth where he managed to escape his father’s wrath for just a little while.

  The scent of fresh-cut green grass had replaced the sweet violet fragrance of his absent mother and a coach’s pat on the back was the only nice touch he ever got from anyone.

  “Mr. Clay?” Henry’s voice pulled Clay from his thoughts. “Would you come over and teach me how to play ball better? I asked my dad to help me but he said he likes football and doesn’t know anything about baseball.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Clay has far more important things to do with his time than teach you how to be a better baseball player,” Miranda said quickly. She looked positively panicked at the very idea of Clay helping her son.

  “Actually, I’d love to help you out,” Clay said to Henry. “I could come over to your house a couple of days a week after school.”

  “That would be totally awesome,” Henry replied.

  “In fact, we could start tomorrow.” Clay actually looked forward to helping the boy. Playing a little ball would bring back some good memories for him.

  Henry’s smile fell. “I can’t tomorrow. We always go to our dad’s on Saturdays and Sundays.”

  “Then Monday after school,” Clay said. And maybe in helping Henry he’d have a chance to get to know Miranda better, and more importantly, she’d get to know him and not just his reputation.

  He now smiled at her. Darn, but she was one fine-looking woman. The royal-blue blouse she wore enhanced the hue of her blue-gray eyes, and sitting this close to her he could see her long, beautiful dark eyelashes. Unfortunately, she didn’t return his smile.

  For the next few minutes he tried to make more small talk with her, but whatever he asked she answered with short, curt replies. All too quickly the kids were finished eating and they all got up to leave.

  “This has been an unexpected pleasure,” he said.

  “It was definitely unexpected,” Miranda replied. “Thank you, Clay.”

  “No problem.” He looked at Henry. “And I’ll see you on Monday afternoon.”

  “You promise?” Henry asked.

  “I promise,” Clay replied.

  The kids ran ahead of them to exit the shop. “You don’t really have to come over on Monday,” she said softly so the kids wouldn’t hear.

  “I made a promise. You might not know this about me, but I never break my promises,” he replied.

  They stepped out into the warm evening air. “Thank you again,” she said. “This was a nice thing to do for the kids.”

  “I like to do nice things. Good night, Miranda and I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned on his boot heel and headed in the opposite direction, toward where his truck was parked in front of the General Mercantile store.

  He got inside his vehicle and headed for home with thoughts of Miranda Silver whirling around in his head. Being near her had excited him. There was something about her that drew him, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t feel the same way about him.

  He rolled down his window and allowed the late May evening breeze to fill the cab. The air smelled fresh and sweet with a hint of blooming flowers.

  Clay loved spring, when the barren winter pastures turned a lush green and the trees once again sprouted leaves. It was usually the season of birth...cows calved and horses foaled and rabbits ran everywhere. All the cowboys had new purpose as they went about their chores after the winter’s slower pace.

  Fifteen minutes later he pulled through the entry to the Holiday Ranch. This had been his home since he’d been thirteen years old and had finally gotten up the courage to run away from his home in Fox Hill, a small town about thirty miles outside of Oklahoma City. He’d run to escape his father’s physical and emotional abuse. He’d hitched a ride to Oklahoma City and had spent three brutal months living on the streets.

  Luck had landed him here, along with eleven other lost boys, in the custody of Cass Holiday. Cass had passed away, but the ranch continued to thrive under the hand of Cass’s niece, Cassie.

  He drove past the big white two-story house where Cassie lived with her husband, Chief of Police Dillon Bowie. In the distance lights had begun to appear in the cowboy motel against dusk’s deepening shadows.

  The long building housed the cowboys in small individual rooms and in the back of the building was the dining/rec room. Clay parked his truck and headed around to the rec room, knowing that several of his fellow hands would probably be there chilling out after a day of work.

  Sure enough, seated on the sofas and chairs were Jarod Steen, Flint McCay and Mac McBride. As usual Mac strummed his guitar, filling the large space with the sweet melody of a ballad. When he spied Clay, he stopped playing and put his guitar aside.

  “Hey, man, what’s happening?” Mac asked.

  “Nothing much.” Clay sank down on the sofa next to Jerod. “I just had cupcakes and ice cream with Miranda Silver and her two kids.”

  All three men stared at him as if he’d just announced he had decided to marry a cow and have the wedding on the planet Venus.

  “You and Miranda Silver? No way,” Flint said.

  “Well, she is probably the last woman in the entire state Clay hasn’t dated,” Mac said dryly.

  “Ha ha,” Clay replied and then told them about the chance meeting with Miranda and her children. “I’ll admit I’ve kind of had a thing for her for a while, so this evening was a great chance to get to talk to her. I’d really like to get to know her better.” But there had been no way he felt that asking for a date would be a good thing when they were leaving the cupcake place.

  “And does she have a thing for you?” Mac asked.

  Clay thought about the awkward conversation and the subtle jabs she’d given him while they’d been together. “Definitely she has a thing for me. I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

  “Well, that’s going to make having any kind of a relationship with her fairly difficult,” Mac replied.

  “The good news is Henry asked me to do some baseball training with him, so I’ll be seeing her several times a week when I work with him,” Clay replied.

  “Too bad that kid’s father is such a horse’s ass,” Jerrod said. A deep frown appeared between his dark brows. “Henry and his sister have participated in some of the activities at the community center. They are both great kids. They deserve better than Hank.”

  “Then all I have to do is convince Miranda I’m not just another horse’s ass,” Clay replied. “I’ll have to pull out all my famous charm.”

  “I know you’re good with the ladies, Clay, but I have a feeling you can pull out all the charm you possess, but that’s one lady you don’t have a chance with,” Mac said.

  It wasn’t until later when Clay was in his twin bed in his room that he replayed the conversation in his head. It was true that Clay had dated a lot of women, especially over the past year. But how did a man find the right woman if he didn’t go actively looking for her?

  All he could hope for was that Mac was wrong, because Clay really wanted Miranda to give him a chance.

  * * *

  Two hours ago Miranda had left The Cupcake Palace with Clay Madison. As usual, Miranda had looked perfectly put together in her black slacks and bright-blue blouse. Her shoulder-length blond hair had shone in the waning sunlight and she looked as pretty as she had in high school when she’d been the runner-up for homecoming queen.


  She had to die, or at least be badly maimed.

  She had to either leave this earth and be gone forever, or be crippled and ugly for the world to be right again. There was an enormous sense of satisfaction in finally deciding what had to be done.

  Now it was just a matter of time and opportunity. The beautiful Miranda Silver didn’t know it, but she now had an expiration date stamped on her forehead.

  Chapter 2

  Miranda woke up on Saturday morning feeling a little bit guilty about the way she had acted the night before. There was no question that she’d been rude to Clay and that wasn’t really who she was.

  However, there was something about Clay Madison that set her on edge. Maybe it was because she was far too aware of him whenever they were in the same space.

  Okay, she could admit that she’d always been secretly physically attracted to him. But she also believed he was a fairly vacuous man, sliding through his life and women on his good looks and easy charm.

  Besides, she wasn’t interested in having a man in her life. Being married to Hank had soured her on the whole notion. She had given up her dignity and self-respect in staying with Hank as long as she had. Now she just wanted to be the best teacher she could be and raise her children to be happy, healthy and good people. She didn’t need a man to accomplish those goals.

  At ten o’clock the kids were in the living room with their overnight bags packed. “Do you both have your toothbrushes?” she asked.

  They replied that they did. “And clean socks and underwear,” Henry added and then giggled. “I knew that was going to be the next question ’cause you always ask the same thing before we leave on Saturday mornings.”

  “And then you tell us that you love us and we should be good for Dad and Ms. Lori,” Jenny said.

  “Great, then I don’t have to say any of that same old stuff today,” Miranda replied with a laugh.

  A knock sounded at the door. Miranda answered to see her ex-husband, the boy she had fallen in love with when she’d been sixteen years old and had fallen out of love with after years of an unhappy marriage.

  “Hey, Miranda,” he said with the crooked smile that had once made her heart beat faster and now only made her sad. His eyes were bleary and red-rimmed, but at least there was no smell of alcohol on him.

  “Good morning, Hank,” she replied. She opened the screen door but didn’t invite him inside. Beyond him she saw Lori in the driver’s seat of Hank’s king cab pickup and waved to her.

  By that time the kids were at the door. A flurry of kisses were given and then Miranda watched as they all got into the truck and Lori pulled away.

  Miranda closed the door and headed for the kitchen. On most Saturdays when the kids were with Hank and Lori, Miranda cleaned the house and then graded papers. Before she could get started on anything, the phone rang.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said when she answered.

  “Hello, my lovely daughter,” her mother replied.

  Miranda smiled. She could imagine her mother sitting in her favorite blue-flowered chair, her silver hair perfectly coiffed and impeccable makeup highlighting her high cheekbones and bright blue eyes.

  No one ever saw Katherine Albright when she wasn’t completely pulled together. It had been that way when Miranda was growing up and even while her mother had been taking care of Miranda’s father, who had been sick with prostate cancer for months. He had finally succumbed to the disease and was now buried in the Bitterroot Cemetery. As far as Miranda was concerned, her mother was the strongest women she’d ever known.

  “I heard a little rumor this morning when I was getting my nails done,” Katherine said.

  Miranda groaned inwardly. “And what rumor is that?” she asked, even though she knew. God bless Bitterroot, Oklahoma, and its healthy gossip mill.

  “I heard that you and the children had cupcakes and ice cream with that handsome cowboy Clay Madison.”

  “The rumor is true, but it was just a chance meeting. It didn’t mean anything and it was certainly no big deal,” Miranda replied.

  “Well, that’s too bad. You could do a lot worse than Clay. Not only is he easy on the eyes, but from what I hear he’s a hard worker. Besides, he’s just so darned nice whenever I run into him in town.”

  Good Lord, the man had apparently charmed her own mother as well as most of the other females in town. “Actually, Henry asked him to help him get better at baseball and Clay agreed to help out.”

  “If Hank were any kind of a father at all he’d be the one teaching that poor little boy how to play ball,” Katherine replied and then went into a ten-minute diatribe against the man who had once been her son-in-law.

  She harangued him for cheating on Miranda, for not being a good provider for his family and for not being a real and present father in his children’s lives. She then went on to talk about Hank’s drinking problem.

  “Are you finished?” Miranda asked dryly when her mother finally stopped to take a breath.

  “For now,” Katherine said with a small laugh. “I just don’t understand why a man with so much potential would waste his life.”

  “The good news is he isn’t wasting any more of mine,” Miranda replied.

  “Thank goodness, and now to the real reason I called...are you planning on taking the children to the spring fling celebration this weekend?”

  “I might take them for a little while on Friday evening.” Miranda had put away a bit of fun money for the night where there would be people with booths and tents selling their wares, but more importantly for the kids, there would be carnival rides. “Why? Would you like to come with us? You know we’d love that.”

  “Actually, I’m going to help out at Halena and Mary’s tent. You know they always get a lot of traffic, and Halena asked me to work with them and help them out.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Miranda asked. Katherine suffered from rheumatoid arthritis that often flared up and severely limited her mobility. There were days she was in so much pain she was unable to get out of bed.

  “You can’t stop living because of a little pain,” Katherine replied. “I’ll be at their tent.”

  “Then we’ll stop by to say hi to you,” Miranda replied. Halena Redwing and her granddaughter, Mary Nakni, always had beautiful paintings done by Mary as well as Choctaw-related items for sale. Halena was one of the town’s more colorful characters and it was always fun to see what she was up to.

  “You know I always love to show off my grandbabies,” Katherine replied.

  “And you know how much they love you,” Miranda replied.

  The two women visited for the next fifteen minutes or so and then hung up. Her mother always made light of the chronic pain that she suffered, but Miranda worried about her. Katherine had tried several medications to help her, but they had all made her violently ill, so the only thing she took now was an occasional pain pill to get her through the particularly bad days.

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Miranda cleaned and worked on the pile of laundry that seemed never-ending with two active kids, and then all too quickly it was bedtime.

  Sunday mornings she always went to church and hated the fact that her children weren’t there with her. Lori had told her she was trying to get Hank to take them all to church on Sunday mornings, but so far it hadn’t happened.

  It was six o’clock that evening when Hank and the kids appeared back on her doorstep. As Henry and Jenny ran into the house, Miranda stepped out onto the porch with Hank.

  “I hope they were good for you and Lori,” she said.

  “They’re always good for us, but what’s this I hear about Clay Madison coming over here to teach my boy baseball?”

  “Henry asked him and he agreed. As I recall, Henry has asked you to help him several times and you always tell him you don’t know anything about baseball.”

 
Hank had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Still, I’m not sure I want that particular cowboy hanging around here. You’d better watch out for him, Miranda. He’s been known to turn a woman’s head. From what I hear he’s a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.”

  “Trust me, my head isn’t in any danger of turning in any man’s direction,” she replied firmly. The last thing she wanted was to give her heart away to another man who might or might not take good care of it. She was just not willing to play the odds, especially with a man who had a reputation like Clay Madison’s.

  Hank pulled out his wallet and opened it. “The kids told me you bought them some new summer clothes.” He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “I know it isn’t much, but this will help a little. You know as soon as I get some full-time work I’ll make things easier on you.”

  “I know, Hank.” If good intentions were cash, then Hank would be a wealthy man, but she’d stopped expecting much of anything from him. Still, the twenty dollars would help toward the carnival-ride expenses. “I’m planning on taking the kids to the carnival on Friday night.”

  “That’s good. They’ll have a great time,” he replied. “They were both already talking about what rides they wanted to ride and all the carnival junk food they wanted to eat.”

  “They can ride whatever they want, but limits will be set on the junk food consumption,” she replied with a laugh.

  He smiled at her. “You’re a good mother, Miranda. We might see you there on Friday night, but if I don’t see you then, I’ll see you next Saturday to pick up the kids.”

  “They’ll be ready,” she replied.

  Goodbyes were said and Hank returned to the truck.

  The rest of the evening passed quickly with baths and bedtime for the kids. It was only when she was in her own bed that she realized within the next fourteen or fifteen hours Clay Madison might or might not show up at her house. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

  At three-thirty on Monday afternoon Clay showered and put on clean jeans and a long-sleeved navy polo shirt. A thrum of excitement rode with him as he got into his truck and headed toward Miranda’s house.