Free Cowboy Seeks Bride by Carolyn Brown Page A

toward a wide gate opening out onto the road and opened it. The cowboys flapped their hats and headed the big longhorn bull through the gate with the rest of the cattle following along behind, then yee-hawed them into a ninety-degree turn back to the north with the chuck wagon bringing up the rear.
    “Y’all ready?” Dewar yelled.
    “Might as well be,” Sawyer hollered back.
    He crooked his finger. “Haley?”
    She slapped Apache’s neck with the rein and he trotted right up the right edge of the cattle formation to Dewar. “So I’m the rodeo queen, right? Do I have to wave at the crowds?”
    “The Comanche Times newspaper has already done this big spread about Carl Levy sending H. B. McKay up here to check things out for a reality show. Since you are H. B., then yes, you are the rodeo queen. They’re having this big sidewalk sale and the ladies are setting up tables with food to sell. It’s a fundraiser that’ll bring in folks from all around.”
    She grinned. “Ahh, shucks. I forgot my diamond hat band and my hair spray to get my hair all big and fluffy.”
    “You’ll do.” He quickly scanned her from boots to hat. “If the cattle start to get restless, we’ll hurry them up a bit. If they get too wild, you might have to help corral them. Think you can do that?”
    “I can do anything I set my mind to do,” she said. “You aren’t much for compliments, are you?”
    “What?” His dark brows became one long line across his green eyes.
    “Nothing. Let’s get through this,” she said shortly.
    Sure enough more than one little boy darted out to slap a cow or a bull on the rump and then ran back to the safety of his parents. Cameras were out by the dozens, maybe even hundreds, to record the modern-day cattle drive through the small town. A pay phone attached to the side of a convenience store caught Haley’s eye and she entertained notions of making a call to end the whole thing. But that kiss kept her moving.
    If it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, then the second one wouldn’t fry holes in the toes of her socks.
    If it wasn’t, she was in big trouble.
    She pulled up reins at a mailbox on a corner and dropped an envelope in it with all her notes for the past two days. It might be a week before her father got another letter, so he could just chew on her discoveries up until then. Besides, he didn’t deserve news more than once a week. Until she could mail him another batch of notes, he could be looking for a chuck wagon, preferably a Studebaker, and he could be thinking about buying a donkey right along with a hundred head of cattle.
    Something whirred beside her ear, and she jerked her head around to see a blur that looked like a baseball or a rock. It hit Apache square on the flank and he reared back on his hind legs. The first crazy thing that went through her mind was “Hi Ho Silver.” His front feet came back down, hitting the ground with enough force to jar her teeth.
    Suddenly, the saddle felt like it had been greased down with Coosie’s bacon grease. She was cussing and screaming at the kid who was running like the devil poking his butt with a pitchfork. Apache threw his head back, and his mouth opened and screamed right along with her. The cows joined in the concert, and the old bull lent his deep voice to the mix.
    Cows were on both sides of Haley and it definitely was not like the running of the bulls. Apache got ahead of the whole herd and led the charge, like General Custer himself, right down the sidewalks festooned with merchandise for the annual spring sidewalk sale. The horse sideswiped a table of leftover valentines, and paper goods went flying through the air. The bright red tablecloth landed on Apache’s saddle horn and the old bull must’ve thought Apache was a bona fide bullfighter, because he gave a bellow, lowered his head, and charged.
    One of the bull’s horns caught on a straw hat and the other one snagged a lady’s black lace camisole. Apache veered to the left with