Forever Cowboy

Emily Scotson’s dream is to open her own fashion boutique in downtown Bozeman. Finding the perfect building isn't a problem. Finding one she can afford is impossible.

For Alex Green, World Bull Riding Champion, his luck has finally run out. Being thrown by 1500 pounds of prime bull hurt his body as well as his pride. When he returns to Montana to recover, he ends up inside a burned-out shell of a building, with a hammer in his hand and a pesky redhead ordering him around.

He doesn’t know much about fashion, but he does know about property. And the commercial building Emily wants to buy has dollar signs written all over it. He needs a project to keep him busy and Emily needs a business partner. It could be a match made in heaven, but only if a cowboy with a broken heart lets himself believe in forever.

“Drop everything. I’ve found the perfect building.” 

Emily looked up from her worktable at her stepsister, her scissors hovering in midair. “That’s what you said about the last one.” 

“It had potential.” 

The gleam in Nicky’s eyes made Emily smile. “If you weren’t worried about the electric guitar lessons in the building next door.” She went back to cutting the fabric, allowing a little extra grow room for the pregnant body that would wear the dress. “Why is this one different from the others we’ve seen?”

“The owners aren’t looking for tenants, so you won’t have to worry about an over-inflated lease. They want to sell it. It’s two stores down from Angel Wings Café. Now grab your coat.”

Emily stopped cutting. Since Tess had opened the café, it had become one of the busiest eateries in downtown Bozeman. 

If the building was near the café, the foot traffic would be incredible. But what she liked the most was that it was in the historic district. The area had character, a place in the founding stories of Bozeman. All the things she wanted her fashion boutique to be part of. 

She’d walked past the businesses on either side of the café each week, admiring the craft store on one side and the florist on the other. She tried to remember what was beside them. “Are the owners selling the old library?”

“Maybe.”

Emily stared at her sister. She’d officially gone nuts. The old library was a disaster. From the photos that had made the front page of the Bozeman Chronicle, there wasn’t much left inside that wasn’t burned to a crisp. “I thought the insurance company was still investigating the fire.”

“All finished. As of this morning, it’s officially for sale.”

And in need of a major overhaul. Even though her step-family owned one of the largest construction companies in Montana, Emily wasn’t about to pull strings and get the building remodeled by someone else. She couldn’t afford to.

“How much do they want for it?” That was the crunch question that had kept her working from her two-bedroom home for the last year. 

“Ask me again after you’ve seen it.”

Now she was really worried. Nicky was a hot-shot business consultant. She always had the facts and figures of each property engraved on her brain before they went to look at them. “I’m not going if it’s too expensive.”

“Where’s the creative designer gone? I thought you’d be in your truck and across town before I took another breath.”

“She disappeared after we saw our fourteenth property.” Emily sighed. “I can’t stay here, but I can’t afford to go anywhere else. And before you mention it again, I’m not coming out to your ranch, or to Mom and Dad’s either.”

“You won’t need to, not after you see this building. It has potential with a capital P. Now put those scissors down and come with me.” 

Emily looked around her spare bedroom. Rolls of fabric lined one wall, and the shelves she’d made were full of everything she needed to create the clothes her clients loved. Space was so tight that she usually placed her cutting table in the kitchen. Except the kitchen was full of boxes ready to mail to her online customers. 

She thought about what Tess had done with Angel Wings Café, how Kelly had transformed the craft store. They’d turned the musty old buildings into successful businesses. Maybe with some careful planning she could do the same. As long as the careful planning came with an equally careful budget.

Nicky took a bright blue coat out of the closet and held it toward Emily. “If you don’t look, you’ll regret it.” When she didn’t answer, Nicky added, “I’ll have you back here in under an hour.”

She left the scissors on her table. “Okay, I’ll come with you. Just give me a couple of minutes to tidy up.”

“You’ve got three minutes.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bossy?”

“All the time.” Nicky grinned. “It runs in the family.”

* * *

Alex buttoned his shirt, frowning at Doc Johnson’s back. “You can’t be serious?”

The gray-haired doctor turned around. The scowl on his face didn’t look promising. “I’ve never been more serious. I’m not giving you a medical clearance so you can get pummeled by another bull.”

“It’s been four months. The doctor in Vegas said I should be good to go in a few months’ time.”

“He’s not here now and I’ve just seen your latest specialist’s report. If you don’t stay off the circuit for a few more months, you’ll end up with a permanent injury.” 

“I’ve already registered for the Livingston Roundup in July,” he said stubbornly. 

“Well, I suggest you unregister yourself,” Doc Johnson said in an equally stubborn tone. “If you go anywhere near that rodeo without my clearance you’ll be banned for half the season.”

“It’s three months away.”

“Makes no difference. You’re not ready now and you won’t be ready then.”

As he worked his way off the bed, Alex swallowed the pain shooting through his leg. “I’m a bull rider. It’s what I do. I need to get back on the circuit.”

Doc Johnson’s face softened. “I know it’s hard, but you have to give your body time to heal.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “I want to see you in four weeks’ time.”

He jammed the paper in his pocket without looking at it. When he got home, he’d throw it in the same drawer with the other prescriptions he hadn’t filled. 

“And this time make sure you take the drugs.”

Alex thought he was too old to blush, but a rush of heat hit his face. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been looking after you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. I can tell when you’re in pain. There’s still too much inflammation in your leg to be anything but uncomfortable.”

That had to be the understatement of the year. Some days the pain was so bad, he felt as though his leg was on fire. And it wasn’t getting any better. 

“Tell your mom I’m looking forward to sampling her sweet cherry pie at the Wildflower Festival.”

For a man in his early seventies, Doc Johnson seemed to have an ear to every conversation and event in town. “I’ll tell her. She’s got some stiff competition this year. Doris Stanley’s entering her lemon meringue pie. Both of them want to go home with the blue ribbon.”

“Between you and me, my money’s on your mom.” 

Alex glanced at Doc Johnson before picking up the metal crutch leaning against the bed. He hoped Doc was right. Otherwise, they’d be eating cherry pie for months while his mom perfected her recipe.

Gripping the crutch, he took a tentative step toward the door. The metal rod felt flimsy in his hands. As if it would snap if he leaned too heavily against the armband. He hated using it, but after spending more than an hour riding this morning, his leg wasn’t up to holding any more of his weight than it had to. “I’ll make an appointment with the receptionist.”

“You do that,” Doc Johnson said. “And remember what I told you. No bull riding. If I hear any stories about you parading around an arena, I’ll get in my truck and find you.”

Alex left the hospital feeling like a hangman had just tightened the noose around his neck. For the last five years, he’d ridden as a professional bull rider, notching up more prize money than his father or grandfather combined. Being relegated to sideshow status wasn’t easy, but then standing up for more than a couple of hours didn’t go down too well either.

He limped across to the red truck parked under the shade of a tree. Gracie, his happily married half sister, had a book propped open between the steering wheel and her pregnant body. 

For the first time that afternoon, he smiled. “What are you reading?”

Gracie jumped. “You’ll send me into labor if you sneak up on me like that.” She took a deep breath and closed the book. “Mom used to read me this story when I was little. It’s called The Very Hungry Caterpillar. How did your appointment go?”

“Not good.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” 

She stared at him long and hard. “You’ll get ulcers if you keep everything bottled up inside that head of yours.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He threw his crutch on the backseat and walked around to the passenger side of the truck. 

Gracie frowned at the grin he sent her. “You’re limping worse than when I dropped you off.” When he didn’t answer, she pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes. “Okay. I get the message. But next time, I’ll keep pestering you until you tell me what’s going on.” 

That’s what he liked most about Gracie. She never pushed him further than he was prepared to go. Well, hardly ever, and never about things that cut deep. 

Gracie wiggled back in her seat, trying to get comfortable. Only he didn’t know if that was possible. At five-foot-one, there wasn’t a lot of spare room for the baby that was filling her stomach to overflowing. 

“Are you ready to go home?” she asked.

He shook his head. He’d been staying on his parents’ ranch for the last couple of months. When his mom saw him, she’d want to know what Doc Johnson had said and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. 

Before he spoke to anyone he needed to work out what he’d do for the next few months. He definitely didn’t want to limp around his parents’ ranch, getting in everyone’s way. 

“In that case,” Gracie said. “I vote for hot chocolate and cake. It’s Mud Cake Monday at Angel Wing’s Café. If we hurry, Tess should still have some left.”

And that was the second thing he liked about Gracie. She knew the way to a man’s heart.