Grumpy Cowboy (Single Dad Collection)

And that, I can work with.

“Daddy, can I go sit with Granny?” Joey asks, pulling free of our hands and speed-hustling toward a waving Jenny before Rhett can even answer. He rolls his eyes and says to her retreating back, “Sure thing, baby doll. Thanks for asking.”

His sarcasm is nearly as thick as his muscled forearms.

The unknown Mr. Walker smiles slightly at that but doesn’t make any move to relieve us of his company, so after a small sigh, Rhett completes the formal introductions, if only under minor duress.

“Leah, this is Clay Walker. Clay, this is Dr. Leah Levee.”

“Doctor, huh? You the one Tex brought in to babysit Rhett?” Clay asks with a wink that makes Rhett’s jaw go hard and his eyes shift away.

I force a smile and nod, all while sticking out my hand for him to shake.

The thing is, we all know he’s teasing, but I imagine out here in the rough country of Utah, men spend so much of their time trying to be tough that any insinuation against their manhood is a hard pill to swallow. Not because they think women are inferior—pretty much the opposite from what I’ve seen. It’s just that they carry a very heavy burden on their shoulders, wanting to be the one to ensure their families and property are taken care of with the utmost respect.

Being talked down to, no matter the subject matter or the person doing it, never feels good. The only thing I can do is try to move the conversation along.

“I’ve been entrusted with Rhett’s recovery, and it’s going really well. I’m very happy with the progress his leg is making, and he should be back to a hundred percent in no time if we keep this up.”

“Well, that’s good. I mean, as long as you can keep yourself from playin’ around on my broncs goin’ forward. Wouldn’t want this to happen again because of some need to prove somethin’ to all the boys who made a career out of it, you know?”

Wow. That was definitely a jab if I’ve ever heard one, but Rhett keeps his cool and shakes his head. “I don’t plan to do any more bronc ridin’ anytime soon, sir. Yours or any others.”

“Well, that’s good. Takes some of us longer to grow up than others, I guess, but eventually it happens.”

Feeling antsy at the serious attack on Rhett’s character, I can’t help but speak up. Though, I’m careful to do it without any aggression. You catch a lot more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. Of that much, I’m certain. “I don’t think Rhett needs to grow up much more,” I say with a teasing smile. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met someone who takes all of his responsibilities so seriously. Any more stony-faced jaw ticks out of this guy, and his face just might freeze like that.”

Clay laughs, thankfully, and for now, it seems like the bulk of the tension between the two of them is broken. As a person who’s not exactly prone to conflict of any kind, I’m tremendously proud of myself for not turning, running, and cowering in the corner while two tough cowboys duked it out.

Evidently, I’m turning into a sturdy, strong-willed rancher girl after all.

I look down out of an involuntary compulsion to hide my reddening cheeks and see that there’s a glob of horse poop stuck to the toe of my new boots, and it takes all the strength inside me not to scream out in hysteria.

Okay, so maybe I’m not at full ranch girl status, but I’m getting there…

Surreptitiously, I try to twist my leg down and around so I can wipe the offending substance in the grass.

“Come on, Dr. Leah,” Clay invites. “Why don’t we find some seats? I think the exhibition’s about to start.”

“Um, okay,” I hedge hesitantly. I really didn’t expect to be sitting with a complete stranger while I figured out how everything worked about rodeo. In fact, I planned on sitting next to Rhett and asking every ridiculous question I could think of, and now, that seems like it would be kind of embarrassing for me, to be honest.

“Have you ever been to a rodeo before, hun?” Clay asks, and I shake my head in the negative.

“Ooh, doggie,” he cries out, slapping his thigh for extra emphasis. “You’re in for a treat, then.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Best entertainment there is, if you ask me. Though, I suppose I may be a bit biased since I make my livin’ from it.” He winks.

I glance back at Rhett as Clay loops my arm in his without warning, and Rhett rolls his eyes—but he does it with a smile. Clearly, we’ve moved on from the portion of the interaction where Rhett’s manhood feels threatened and are now entering the these fucking old guys and their showboating portion of the afternoon.