Taming the Troublemaker (The Hills of Texas Book 3) Read online

  I make Beth Cooper uncomfortable?

  Always up for a laugh, straight-talking, sweet teacher Beth? And based on her irritated frown, not a spark of interest in sight in her blue eyes, she meant that in a way that had nothing to do with playing hard to get. He’d had plenty of women take that tactic, but this was different. This was sincere.

  He didn’t like it or the rock that took up residence in his gut at the thought. Not that he could pursue her anyway. That six-month easy bet was starting to look like a long, dry road in the heat of the summer. A little flirting never hurt anyone though. Or so he’d thought.

  “I’m… sorry, Beth.” He held up both hands, taking a step back. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Cross my heart.” He matched action to words, making an X over his heart with his fingers. The thing was, he needed a buffer with the kid. Sure, he’d spent a lot of time with his niece, Sophia, from Cash’s first marriage. But she was a spunky, happy girl… Not a sullen, downtrodden preteen boy.

  The fact that he’d already done a bang-up job, sounding like his dad about that handshake and saying “yes, sir,” told Autry he needed help. Bring in the big guns.

  In other words, Beth. Okay, maybe little guns was a more apt description, but fire power, nonetheless.

  She gave a snort as she stood back up. “I teach kids, buster. I’ll hold you to that promise.”

  Autry grinned. She sure was cute when she got feisty. “Well, all right then.”

  Beth gave a nod as if she’d made a point she was happy with. In a flurry of activity, she tidied her desk and shuffled papers into that massive bag. The same one she’d locked in his truck. Only now he was second- and third-guessing that he’d been wrong. She really had done that on accident. Which was sort of… adorable in a totally Beth kind of way, even if his ego took a bit of a hit that she hadn’t done so on purpose.

  The bag, now overflowing with papers, swamped her small form when she flung it over one shoulder. In her pretty blue sundress with white polka dots—conservatively buttoned up to the neck and the skirt falling below the knees—she looked like no teacher he’d ever had. The subtle almond-blossom scent of her bodywash floated around him, and he had to tamp down on the urge to bury his face in her hair and inhale. Maybe see if her neck tasted as sweet as her lips.

  “I bet all the boys have a crush on you.” The words were out of his mouth before he consciously thought about it.

  Beth paused and shot him such a teacher stare of disapproval, Autry was tempted to go to the board and start writing out I will not sentences, like Bart Simpson.

  Instead, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Again.”

  “Hmmm…”

  What did that mean? Was he still in trouble?

  Without another word, she led him out of the room, careful to lock up behind her. At the truck, Beth stopped in front of Dylan, who leaned against it with his arms crossed.

  “Mind if I join you guys today?” she asked.

  The kid’s posture didn’t change as he glanced back and forth the between Autry and Beth, and Autry found himself holding his breath in case he’d got this wrong.

  “I guess not,” Dylan finally muttered.

  But Autry still caught the way his bony shoulders relaxed a hair. He’d guessed right, that Beth would help Dylan feel more comfortable. He was glad he’d asked.

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  It didn’t escape Autry that Dylan sat in the back directly behind him where he had to lean over to see his face in the rearview. Beth climbed up beside him in the cab.

  “So…” Autry turned in his seat to address the kid. “I know today is about getting to know each other, but we’re men, and men don’t sit and talk about feelings. Am I right?”

  Dylan sat up straighter, scowl still in place, but a smidge less dark. “Yeah.”

  “I see.” Beth’s voice dripped with doubt. “And what, exactly, do men do instead?”

  Autry grinned at Dylan, who might have raised the corner of his mouth. “Men hang. What are you into?”

  The fact that Dylan was underage limited the things they could do in town or he’d take him to the bar for a round of pool. In addition, he and Beth were signed up for dinner at the ranch, so food wasn’t the greatest idea.

  “I don’t do much,” Dylan muttered.

  No way was Autry giving up the minute amount of progress he’d made. “So, let’s come up with something we do together.” He ran a hand over his chin, thinking. “I’m not good at much that doesn’t have to do with the ranch. Are you into sports?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  “Huh. I figured you for football given your build.”

  “Never learned,” Dylan muttered.

  Sore spot. Autry put that under the mental note category and moved on. “You into horses? Ranching stuff?”

  Dylan raised dark eyes from his lap, a spark of wary interest there. “The kids at school are always talking about their horses, but I’ve only ever lived in towns. I don’t ride.”

  Riding horses? That was all Dylan wanted? Cake. “We can take care of that. Can’t we, Beth?”

  “Absolutely,” came her enthusiastic agreement. “I love to ride.”

  Autry was getting into it now, thinking through the options. “And good news, my sister-in-law, Holly, is a vet and both she and my other sister-in-law, Rusty, train horses.”

  “Oh.” No missing the disappointment in that one word. “Yeah. They could teach me, I guess.”

  Autry considered the kid who’d resumed his slouch in the back seat. Where exactly had he gone off the rails? The mention of his family? Why would that be a problem…

  “Maybe later.” Beth leaned forward to put her face between them. “I think if we start with just Autry teaching you, that’d be fine.”

  Ah. Dylan didn’t want lessons—whether from women or strangers didn’t matter. See. Bringing Beth was a brilliant move. He would’ve stepped all over his dick trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong.

  “Yeah,” Autry tagged on. “I just figured we could borrow one of Holly’s horses today, so we don’t waste time going all the way out to the ranch.”

  “That’d be all right,” Dylan agreed, though Autry could still see distrust written across his features. The boy twitched in his seat. “You’re not going to teach me, are you, Ms. Coop?”

  “Nah. I teach you all day.” She softened that with a grin that showed she was kidding. “Besides, I don’t want to smell like horse all night. Maybe once you get good enough, you’ll let me come on a trail ride with you.”

  Dylan nodded and sat up again, suddenly more at ease than he had been. How did she do that? Know exactly what Dylan was needing to hear?

  “Why don’t you call Holly and see if she has a horse we can use?” Autry suggested to her. He swiveled his head to grin at Beth’s upturned face. “I know you already have her number.”

  She sat back with a huff but did as he mentioned and pulled out her phone. A half hour later, they stood in the large stables attached to the veterinary clinic where Holly worked when she wasn’t out on ranches making house calls. She also happened to keep her own horses there. The sweet, musky scents of hay and animals lay heavy in the air despite the breeze coming through the open doors at either end.

  Mischief Maker, Holly’s quarter horse trained for barrel racing, would make the perfect horse for a beginner. He was fast when he wanted to be, but well trained and a lamb otherwise. As soon as they walked in the barn, Mischief poked his russet-colored head over the stall, his black mane hanging in his eyes, and gave a horsy snort at the sight of Autry.

  “Don’t you snort at me,” Autry said as he patted the horse’s neck.

  Mischief snorted again then nosed his shirt, searching for treats. Autry pushed his head away. “Begging doesn’t look good on you, goofball.”

  Dylan watched from a good ten feet away, wary expression back.

  Autry beckoned him closer with a wave of his hand. “He’s just a big dork. Think of him like an oversi
zed toddler.”

  Dylan flicked Autry a dubious glance before he approached slowly. Autry handed him a couple pieces of carrots. “Here. Keep your palm flat and hold it up to his mouth.”

  With some coaxing, the boy held out the treat for the horse who nibbled it up, then bumped Dylan in the shoulder for more.

  The kid’s eyes went wide, but Autry was already there. “Put your hand on his neck and give him a gentle shove away. Let him know who’s boss.”

  Introductions made, Autry launched into the basics of horse care. “My daddy always said that if a man didn’t know how to care for his horse, he didn’t get the privilege of riding his horse. Today we’ll spend most of the time showing you how to get him groomed and saddled up. Okay?”

  If Dylan was disappointed, he didn’t show it, but he did listen, and he did everything Autry asked him too. Beth, meanwhile, stood back, watching them, staying mostly quiet. Every once in a while, she’d pipe in with her own two cents.

  They put a halter on Mischief and brought him out into the main area of the barn. Dylan learned how to brush the horse so the hair would lay nicely flat under the saddle pad and not irritate him. Autry showed him different kinds of saddles, happy that Holly happened to have both western and English.

  Solario, the massive black horse housed in the stall at the end of the row, was a rescue who could be a racer if Holly had the time and money to devote. She’d decided not to, however, sticking to riding him herself. Autry made a mental note to ask who was exercising him since she’d got knocked up. The horse didn’t like most people. Probably Will, if he had to guess. Maybe Rusty.

  Mischief, as a barrel racer, was trained on western, so they got the gear for that. “The important thing is not to act nervous or scared. Just go about your business and he should stand quietly and let you.”

  They got the saddle pad on, careful to cover the withers. Then they prepped the saddle, placing the girth strap over the seat and the right stirrup over the saddle horn to keep them out of the way as they hefted it up and dropped it gently over the pad.

  It took Dylan a couple tries as he got used to the weight of the saddle and the height of the horse. Mischief, at fifteen hands, was on the tall side for a quarter horse, not that he came anywhere near Solario in size. The boy got it on the fifth try, though, giving Mischief a good glare when the horse swung his head around to look at him with curious brown eyes after the fourth try.

  “I’ll give you this, man. You’re not a quitter, are you?” Autry said.

  “Nope.”

  Still at one word answers, but Autry didn’t mind.

  “Right, now you drop the stirrup and girth strap over, lean under and grab the girth.” They walked through the way to loop it through the rings and tighten it up.

  When Autry pulled it even tighter, taking up the slack, and gently kneeing Mischief in the belly, the horse let out the breath he’d been holding on a gusty sigh of protest. Dylan made a sound that was almost a chuckle if he hadn’t cut himself off.

  Autry glanced over Mischief’s back at Beth who stood quietly to the side. She raised her eyebrows only slightly, but he got the message. That sound was a big deal for Dylan. How such a small thing could make a man feel taller, Autry had no idea. But he did. Maybe Beth had chosen to teach for this reason, if this was how she got to feel.

  Trying to rein in his pride, he finished up the lesson, showing Dylan how to put on the bridle, getting the bit into the horse’s mouth, careful it went over the tongue, not under. Since they’d made such good progress, and Mischief was practically vibrating in his eagerness to go run around, Autry then had Dylan lead the horse outside.

  “Let me get the sillies out of him first, then I’ll let you mount. Since we don’t have a helmet for you yet, we’ll have to keep it to a walk.”

  “Whatever.” Dylan was back to being Mr. Cool.

  Autry ignored the attitude and talked through what he was doing as he mounted the horse. Then he took Mischief on a couple quick laps of the paddock out behind the barn. He didn’t let the horse get up to full speed. As a barrel racer, the animal could sprint like a pro. Finally, he trotted a prancing Mischief up to where Dylan and Beth leaned on the rails of the metal fencing surrounding the paddock.

  “Ready to try?” he asked.

  “Nah. Maybe tomorrow.” Dylan jumped off the bottom rail he’d been standing on and backed up.

  Autry came down off his high with a metaphorical thump. What just happened? Dylan had been eager—his version of it at least—until a few minutes ago. He glanced at Beth, but got no aid from that quarter, her expression carefully neutral.

  Rather than badger the boy, he decided to play it cool. “No problem. Next week we can do more. We need to put Mischief up before we leave. Okay?”

  “Yeah.” To give him credit, Dylan was as engaged as earlier as they put away the tack, groomed Mischief, and put him up in his stall.

  Autry went ahead and fed both horses to save Holly the trip. The woman was ready to pop. No way should she be driving. Not that he’d tell her that. Cash had already warned the family that Holly was being “dang difficult” about letting him do stuff for her and didn’t appreciate being told what she should and shouldn’t be doing.

  Autry chickened out and texted his sister-in-law that the horses were fed as a thanks for letting them ride, just in case she was in a mood.

  Mrs. Wright lived in town, so they dropped Dylan off at home. Autry walked the kid up to the wide porch of the fancy California-style home on the other side of the downtown from where Beth lived. What the hell did he say to a kid in a situation like this? “Nice to meet you” sounded lame to tell a ten-year-old.

  Autry leaned against the tan stucco beside the front door, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “That was fun, man. Do you want to do it again? Or are you sick of me already?”

  Dylan blinked at him a minute, then frowned. “I can choose?”

  That set Autry back on his heels, metaphorically speaking. This kid probably didn’t get to make many of his own choices. “Yeah.”

  Dylan dropped his gaze to his sneakers and Autry waited, giving him space to think.

  “I’d need boots if we’re going to work with horses, right?” Dylan didn’t raise his eyes.

  “Yeah.” Autry held in a fist pump, even as he wondered at how invested he’d already become in a boy he’d just met today. One who’d barely talked the entire afternoon.

  Dylan scuffed his shoe on the floormat. “I guess not, then. Mrs. Wright said she won’t get me boots because we live in town and don’t need them.”

  Charity wouldn’t be appreciated either, Autry would bet. Dylan didn’t say so, but, by the stiff set of his bony little body, Autry still got the message loud and clear.

  “That’s not a problem. My mom still has boots from when my brother and I were kids.”

  Dylan made a face and Autry laughed.

  “Don’t ask. Anyway, a bunch are hardly used, for various reasons. I’d bet a pair would fit you.” Mostly Jennings’s, who’d grown out of them faster than their mother could keep up with, and was the last of the five Hill siblings, with no one else to pass the hand-me-downs to. “I’ll ask her to dig some out. Yeah?”

  That got the boy to raise his gaze. After a beat he nodded. “Okay.”

  Autry didn’t budge. “In my house, we say thank you.”

  Funny how a boy could go from the edge of manhood to looking like a toddler about to throw a fit, but that was exactly what Dylan did. For a good handful of seconds, Autry wondered if the boy would kick the offer back in his face.

  “Thanks,” Dylan grudgingly forced out.

  “My pleasure.” Autry held out a hand to shake. “See you later.”

  Since he’d already had the lesson on shaking, Dylan didn’t bother to ignore the hand, giving it a shake before letting himself inside.

  In the truck, Beth waited in the front seat. “That went well, I thought,” she said when Autry got in beside her.

  “You thi
nk so?” Autry sort of thought so too, but nice to have his hunch confirmed. “He didn’t talk much, so it’s hard to tell.”

  “Is that a problem?” Beth’s voice took on an edge that told him she would not appreciate it if it had been.

  “Nope. My brother, Will, tends to limit his conversation to grunts and single words, too. How the guy ever managed to snag a catch like his wife, Rusty, is anyone’s guess.”

  Beth fiddled with the strap of her massive purse. “I’ve seen her in church but haven’t met her yet. She is gorgeous though.”

  “Yeah. More than that, she’s sassy and damn stubborn, and had a bit of a rough childhood, so she’s not super open either.”

  Beth dropped the strap, her hands settling in her lap. “I guess they found other ways to communicate.”

  The second the double entendre in her words hit Beth, she winced. Autry bit back a chuckle and barely managed to keep from commenting. He’d promised to behave, and he meant to keep it. “At least I got Dylan to laugh a bit.”

  Beth snorted. “It wasn’t you, it was the horse.”

  Autry started the engine with the usual roar of sound from his V8 engine. “I’m not letting you take the wind out of my sails.”

  “With all that hot air you blow, I don’t think that’d ever be a problem for you.”

  Autry turned his head to find her watching him with her lips in a prim line, but he still caught the twinkle in her eyes.

  With a grin, he put the truck in gear and pulled away. “Don’t look now, Beth Cooper, but I do believe you’re flirting with me.”

  Chapter Six

  The long drive out to High Hill Ranch located west of La Colina, was easier than she’d expected. When he wanted, Autry could turn that charm into something that put her at ease. They chatted about various nonthreatening subjects and he listened—really listened—which sort of made her feel like the most important person on the planet. A fact she acknowledged could be equally as seductive as Autry at his most incorrigible.

  He pulled his truck up around back of his family’s low slung, ranch-style house, and Beth fought back the sudden nervous knots threatening to tie up her tummy like a roping steer. She knew the Hills, had gone to school with Autry and Jennings, and she liked them. She liked people in general, but the Hills were at the top of the list.