Authors: Cheyenne McCray
Spending the afternoon with her had just proven to him that she was a woman worth getting to know. He loved her smile and laughter. The way she’d giggled on the ride had been adorable.
Yeah, he was sure as hell looking forward to getting to know Megan Wilder a whole lot better.
Chapter 6
The clear Friday night was cooling off as Megan walked from the parking lot and around the back of Maria’s restaurant. Megan wore a flowing denim skirt with boots and a western blouse, and her brown hair was pulled back in a French braid. The ground was rocky and uneven across the parking lot and she was glad for the boots rather than having worn something more delicate.
She had barely managed to slip out of the house without her parents grilling her on who she was meeting. She was thirty-two and her parents treated her like a teenager. As much as she loved them, they embarrassed her with the kinds of remarks they made around the men she met. She was going to have to move out soon if she was going to retain her sanity.
A tall figure emerged from the darkness just feet away from her and her heart stuttered. The man looked intimidating with his powerful build and his features shadowed by his western hat.
She came to a complete stop as the man moved closer.
“Hi, Megan.” Ryan stepped into the light, his lips curved into a smile. He wore a white western shirt with dark blue Wranglers, a big silver and gold belt buckle on his leather belt and polished boots that weren’t scuffed and worn like the ones he’d worn yesterday.
“Ryan.” She held her hand to her heart. “You scared me.”
He reached her and tugged on the end of her braid that was lying over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to do that.” His voice was husky as his eyes met hers. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” she said as warmth flooded through her.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He put his hand at the base of her spine and they walked toward the front of the building.
Smells of Mexican food drifted over her as they entered the restaurant that was dim but had brightly painted walls of blue, green, and pink. On the walls were serapes, maracas, sombreros, and other art depicting Hispanic culture. In a painting closest to the entrance, dancers in colorful traditional costume were performing a Mexican hat dance. In another painting, a matador held a red cape while a bull charged, the audience seated around him in a huge arena.
The restaurant’s atmosphere was cozy. The hostess was beautiful with her hair pulled back and wore a white embroidered peasant blouse with a red embroidered fiesta skirt.
“Rosanne,” Ryan said with a smile as he greeted the hostess. “How are you doing?”
Her smile was brilliant as she greeted him. “Very well, Señor McBride.” Roseanne spoke with a strong Hispanic accent. She turned her gaze on Megan, still smiling. “Good evening, Señora.”
Megan replied in kind and Roseanne asked if they were a party of two. Ryan gave a nod and the hostess picked up a couple of menus and indicated that they should follow her.
She showed them to a cozy corner table where Ryan seated Megan before taking his own seat beside her. Megan never realized how nice it was to have a man act like a gentleman. She was used to anything but gentlemen.
Ryan put his menu on the table. “You look beautiful.” He trailed his fingers down her arm and their eyes locked.
Something about his expression made her think of a future with them together, beyond dating.
Warmth spread through her. She couldn’t remove her gaze from his.
A server stopped by with a basket of tortilla chips, breaking the intensity of the moment.
Flushing, Megan reached for one of the chips and put it on her plate and tried to think of something to say. “They’re still warm.”
Now that was lame, Megan, she told herself.
“Do you want something hot to put on them?” He gestured to the salsa and hot sauce.
Ryan’s easygoing manner set her at ease. She didn’t feel like this was a first date, even though it technically was. They’d spent time at the fair together, but it hadn’t been an official date since they’d only just met.
She ate a chip just as the waitress arrived. Like the hostess, the waitress wore a peasant blouse with an embroidered fiesta skirt. “Señor McBride, it is good to see you with us again.”
“You know you can’t keep me away.” He nodded to Megan. “Gabriella, this is Megan.” To Megan he said, “This is Gabriella, my favorite waitress.”
“A pleasure, Señora.” Gabriella gave a smile and a nod to Megan.
Megan smiled at Gabriella. “Likewise.”
Megan said she wasn’t crazy about beer and ordered a margarita over the rocks with salt on the rim. Ryan ordered a Tecate beer for himself.
“How do you like Prescott?” Ryan asked after Gabriella had left.
“So far so good,” she said. “It’s a lot smaller than I’m used to, but I think the slower paced lifestyle will suit me.”
“You’ve come to the right place.” He flashed a grin. “Were you born and raised in Albuquerque?”
She nodded. “I’ve never lived anywhere else until now.” She tilted her head to the side. “Exactly where do you live?”
“Thirty minutes outside of Prescott,” he said.
She raised her brows. “I didn’t realize it was such a drive.”
He shrugged. “Around here, that’s nothing.”
“I’d love to see your ranch sometime.” Then her body heated as she realized that might have been too forward on a first date.
“I’d like that,” he said. “If you don’t mind making the drive.”
She shook her head. “Like you said, thirty minutes isn’t far.”
“Just avoid speeding too much.” He winked.
“I’ll try,” she said. “But my foot tends to get a little heavy at times.”
“Watch out for John.” Ryan looked amused. “He’d ticket his own brother.”
With a laugh, she said, “I’ll wait ’til I’m out of town.”
Gabriella returned with the margarita for Megan and the beer for Ryan and asked them if they were ready to order. Megan went with her favorite, two cheese enchiladas, and Ryan chose a plate of tacos with shredded beef. Both plates would include refried beans and Spanish rice.
After the waitress left, Megan brought her margarita to her lips and tasted the salt along the rim as she sipped the tangy drink. Ryan took a swig of his beer then ate another chip as she set down her large glass.
“You mentioned you have cattle,” she said. “How many?”
“Roughly forty head,” he said.
“What kind?” She found herself exceedingly curious about Ryan.
“Angus,” he said.
She grasped her margarita, feeling the coolness of the glass and the condensation beneath her fingers. “They’re black, aren’t they? I believe I remember that from the fair when you were showing me the livestock. Hereford are red with white faces and bellies and Brahma are white.”
“Yep.” He nodded. “You’ve got it right. Angus are solid black, although there might be a little white on a cow’s udder.”
She took a sip of her margarita. “How many Suffolk sheep do you have and what do you do with them?”
“About a dozen,” he said. “I started raising Suffolk when I was a 4-H kid. I primarily breed champion stock for FFA and 4-H kids to raise, breed, show, and sell.”
“FFA is Future Farmers of America, is that right?” she asked. “I think we had FFA in high school, but it’s been so long ago and I had other interests.”
“Yes.” He raised his beer bottle. “I was in that organization in high school as well as continuing 4-H.”
“How long have you been teaching 4-H’ers?” she asked.
“I was a member of the organization until I was nineteen, then went off to Northern Arizona University for four years and got my business degree. When I returned I was asked to help out and from that point on I’ve been a leader, roughly twelve years.”
“No wonder you seemed to know every kid there,” she said with a smile.
“Not to mention I grew up here.” He gave her a quick grin. “Not a whole lot I don’t know about the area and the people who’ve been here as long as I have.”
“I’ve heard that a lot of people have started moving to the Prescott area to retire,” she said, “or just to settle down where life is a little quieter and slower paced.”
“That’s exactly what they’ll get here.” He took a chip from the bowl at the center of the table. “Although I have to admit that I hope not too many people discover this part of the country. The population has gotten pretty darn big.”
“I can understand that. It’s a beautiful area.” She watched him eat his chip, studying the strong lines of his features and the blue of his eyes. She swallowed. “So you have four brothers?”
He nodded. “One younger than me and three older. All of them also live around the valley, although Creed is on the road travelling the bull riding circuit a good portion of the time. I have at least a dozen cousins here and scattered around the state.”
“I have a small family. Just my parents, my sister, and my niece.” She hurried to move away from talk about her family. “Is your family close?”
“Most of us.” Ryan nodded. “My brothers and I fought growing up but we get along pretty well now. What about you and your sister?”
“Tess is older than me by five years, so I think I drove her crazy following her around when I was little.” Megan smiled. “But we’ve always been close. She and her daughter mean the world to me.”
Ryan swallowed down more of his drink then lowered his bottle “Where did you go to school?”
“The University of New Mexico.” She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I majored in English but ended up in graphic design.”
She only had one margarita since she’d be driving but the one she did have helped her to relax into the conversation. Their food arrived while they fell into a discussion about baseball.
Dinner was delicious but there was so much food that she only managed to eat a little over half of her plate. Ryan cleared his plate and ate more chips on top of that.
When they were ready to go, Ryan paid the bill and then put his hand at her elbow while he escorted her out of the restaurant.
As they walked outside, Megan heard two men shouting from the direction of the parking lot. Ryan came to a stop and looked down at her, his expression grim as the men’s voices escalated. “Wait here.”
She frowned as he walked away from her and rounded the restaurant toward the parking lot. She followed him and stood at the corner of the building.
Two men were standing in the middle of the lot, shouting at each other.
“You sonofabitch,” a man in a black western hat was saying. “You stole my girl. I’m gonna kick your ass.”
A smaller man raised his hands and balled them into fists. “Marnie wasn’t yours, you dumb shit. She can’t even stand the sight of you.”
“Ron, settle down.” Ryan stepped closer to the men. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Shut up, McBride.” The man named Ron slurred the words.
Great, Megan thought. The man was drunk.
“Why don’t you get on out of here, Dave,” Ryan said to the other man. “No sense in this turning ugly.”
Dave was a young wiry man who didn’t look strong enough to fight Ron. Dave spit onto the dirt. “He’s not going to hurt me. He’s so shitfaced he wouldn’t be able to hit the side of a barn if it was right in front of him.”
Ron made a roaring sound and charged Dave. Ryan grabbed onto Ron and gritted his teeth as he held the man back. Ryan’s muscles bulged and it was clear that it was an effort to hold on.
“You’re bigger than he is, Ron, and you were in the military.” Ryan hung on. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”
Megan’s heart pounded as Ron turned and swung at Ryan.
Ryan dodged the blow then shoved Ron away from him. “I know you’re spoiling for a fight, but you don’t want to mess with me.”
“You think you’re so damned tough, don’t you,” Ron snarled. “All of you McBrides are nothing but a bunch of piss ants.”
Ryan didn’t appear like the remark bothered him at all. “Let’s all just go on home. Enough is enough.”
Ron charged Ryan who swept out one boot and knocked Ron’s feet out from under him. Ron hit the ground hard but scrambled up, his fists raised.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ryan said, his voice still calm. “But I will put an end to this.”
Ron growled and charged Ryan again. Ryan dodged out of the way and the drunken man stumbled past Ryan and hit the dirt face first.
Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the scene as a police cruiser pulled up. Two officers exited the car and walked toward them as Ron staggered to his feet.
“What’s going on?” one of the officers asked.
“Ron’s had too much to drink and he was spoiling for a fight with Dave Turner,” Ryan said.
“That wouldn’t have been a fair fight, now would it, Ron,” one officer stated as he dragged Ron to his feet.
Megan noticed a small crowd had gathered. One of the men stepped in and explained how Ryan tried to stop the fight and how Ron had tried to assault him.
By the time everything was straightened out, Ron was in the back of the cruiser and the crowd had broken up.
Ryan returned to Megan. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
“No apologies necessary.” She shook her head. “I’m just glad you didn’t end up getting hurt.”
He settled his hand on her shoulder. “Ready to head on out to the dance?”
She let out her breath, glad everything had turned out all right. “That sounds like a really good idea to me.”
“Why don’t you leave your car here at the restaurant and ride with me?” he asked. “I’ll bring you back here after the dance.”
“All right.” She fell into step beside him as he walked toward a silver truck.
His truck was high off the ground. She stepped onto the runner, then climbed into the truck with his help, and he closed the door behind her.
He drove the vehicle through a rural area to get to the fairgrounds and she held her hands in her lap. Part of her felt comfortable with him and another part was nervous. So far the night had been wonderful. If you didn’t count the scuffle outside the restaurant.
The truck started rattling and thumping, jostling them in the truck cab.