Cowboy Kind of Trouble: Only an Okie Will Do, #1

By Becca Turner

After a life-altering car wreck that took his ability to walk, his wife, and his bull riding career, Will Baxter is determined to rescue his struggling ranch from a threat only he believes in.

Against his instincts, Will, urged by his brother, begrudgingly agrees to hire Jessi Dixon as his home healthcare aide. Despite the lingering bitterness from his past, Jessi's radiant personality breaks through his stormy demeanor, guiding them on a journey toward healing. Facing challenges not only to the ranch but also to their growing affection, Will navigates through a maze of uncertainties to protect the promise of a future he can share with Jessi.

___

The West isn't won until a cowboy holds your heart. Filled with stubborn and swoony cowboys and heroines with backbones who star in heart-warming small town romances, the Only an Okie Will Do storyverse ticks all the boxes.

 

If you enjoy emotional closed door romance stories with low level heat, you'll want to read them all.

 

Book 1: Cowboy Kind of Trouble
Book 2: Cowboy Kind of Commitment
Book 3: Cowboy Kind of Reckless
Book 4: Cowboy Kind of Peace
Book 5: Cowboy Kind of Spark
Book 6: Cowboy Kind of Harmony
Book 7: Cowboy Kind of Courage
Book 8: Cowboy Kind of Hooked
Under Oklahoma Skies: An Only an Okie Will Do Collection
Under Oklahoma Stars: An Only an Okie Will Do Collection

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becca Turner
• Release date: Sep 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223273585

Book preview

Thank you, D’Ann Lindun, for help with the title and sparking the rest of the series’ titles. <3

Chapter One

Swells, Oklahoma

Jessi Dixon grabbed the latch on her car door. It gave a loud moan-like squeal before it popped, then stuck open. She flinched. The thing would probably fall off one of these days the way her luck was running. She took her purse from the seat, then straightened the hem of her long shirt before she nudged the door shut. The fall weather was turning colder by the day. A few orangey-yellow leaves fell from a nearby oak and scattered across the concrete path to the house.

A dog barked on the porch of what might have once been a beautiful ranch house. It desperately needed a facelift, and the porch could use some water sealer. Barren flower boxes hung desolately from the windowsills. Nothing but a few weeds sprouted from the dirt. The place looked so forlorn...almost abandoned. Only the ramp leading up to the porch was obviously new.

Jessi approached the black and white spotted dog with caution. Hi, buddy. Are you a good boy?

The dog wagged his tail and laid down.

She climbed the ramp, then knocked on the screen door frame. A wreath with faded faux flowers and an unraveling pink ribbon hung from a nail in the center of the main door. Some sad reminder of happier times, like the flower boxes.

The interior door swung open.

A cowboy stood on the inside. His face creased with a grin. Well, well. Ain’t every day we get such pretty visitors. He pushed open the screen door.

Pretty or not, they’ll break your heart.

The resentful muttering wasn’t loud, but reached her ears, nevertheless. Jessi frowned. Um... I’m here to meet Will. She extended her hand. Jessi Dixon. The home—

The housekeeper. Right. Come on in. He shook her hand, then dropped it before he stepped back. Blond hair stuck out beneath his straw cowboy hat. He wore a long-sleeved plaid western shirt tucked into faded blue jeans. The boots on his feet had seen better days. They went perfectly with his battered hat. Luke Michaels.

Nice to meet you. She followed him into the kitchen.

Dark, dusty, and clearly, they’d been in the middle of lunch. A half-empty sack of bread sat open on the counter. An empty plastic lunch meat container and a mostly empty jar of mayo sat next to the bread. A crumpled chip bag lay on the floor.

Oh dear. Jessi met the angry gaze of the man sitting at the table.

The polar opposite of the man standing behind her, Will Baxter was dark of hair and eyes, a little too thin, and his facial features were sharp. Male model material. He captured broody in every sense of the word.

He peered at her over the rim of a coffee cup. Nothing friendly in his gaze.

She stepped forward. You must be Will. I’m pleased to—

You need to go away.

Her mouth opened, but she quickly closed it.

He set his coffee cup aside on the scarred table. I’m busy. I’ve got too many problems around here without adding a woman to them. Unless you’re gonna go out to the south pasture and mend a fence.

Will, jeez. Luke sucked a breath through his teeth. Don’t pay him any mind, Jessi. We’re glad you’re here.

Will’s heated gaze sprang to Luke’s face. The hell we are.

We agreed—

"No, you did. You made up your mind that I need someone hanging around me twenty-four seven. Like I’m some kind of convict or you think I’m gonna overdose on pills or something. I don’t need a maid and I don’t need a babysitter or a warden or anyone. Will hit the electric control at his side. His wheelchair backed away from the table. Well, the hell with you. Both of you. I’m not suicidal. I’m not helpless. I’m just-just...leave me alone!"

The chair rolled off with an electric whirring.

And go fix that damn fence!

Floored, Jessi could only stare after Will.

He’s in a bad mood. Luke gestured at the empty hall. Sorry about that. It’s frustrating for him.

Bad mood? That was more like an epic fit. She turned to Luke. Okay, for starters, I’m not a housekeeper. I will gladly help with housework, but I’m nobody’s maid, got it?

Luke swallowed, then nodded.

Second, I read his file. I understand what I’m needed for here. He’s not used to people helping him. And I’m sure the situation is embarrassing to him. However, Will is going to have to work with me, because I don’t have to take verbal abuse from anyone. She squared her shoulders. Understood?

Luke flinched. Yes, ma’am.

As a home healthcare aide, she’d run across more than her fair share of grouchy patients. Few of them truly wanted to admit they needed her help. If Will wasn’t onboard with her presence here, there wasn’t much she could do to help him.

I’ll go get him, Luke said.

No, you go fix the fence or whatever. He’ll be more at ease knowing that you’re taking care of the outside work. I’ll talk to him. It might be nice to have you as a buffer, but I can handle him. He’ll have to get used to me eventually. She set her purse on the countertop, then dug out a pen and paper. If I need anything, how can I get in touch with you?

He recited his cell phone number. I’m sorry about this. I’m sure you didn’t expect such a cold welcome. He might warm up a little once he gets to know you.

That was a big if considering Will’s greeting. If he’ll let me, I can be a big help around here.

We need it. I’m sorry for the mess too. I’ll clean up lunch while you’re talking to him. He glanced at the abandoned plates on the table, then at the lunch spread. Time kind of got away from us.

I’ll take care of it. She took a deep breath. I’ll see you in a while, I’m sure.

He adjusted the hat on his head. Good luck.

She walked down the hallway, her sneakers making almost no noise on the old hardwood. A dusty formal parlor lay to her left down the hall and a spare bedroom with covered furniture was on the right. A computer with a blank screen, but a glowing light on the monitor sat in one corner. The house was old but had good bones. Even though she knew next to nothing about houses, she could appreciate the time and care that had once gone into the place.

The last room she reached had a closed door.

She knocked on it. Will? Can I speak to you?

No answer.

I understand that you’re not happy bringing help into your home. There have been changes to your body since the accident that make you uncomfortable and maybe even leave you a little confused. Situations like yours can lead to depression. That’s exactly what I want to help you avoid. I know you can’t do everything around here, so I’m—

The floors creaked and beyond the door, the motor of the wheelchair whirred. A moment later, the door opened.

No. He sat up straight, fury in his eyes, his cheeks flushed, and his jaw tight. I’ve been getting along fine with Luke’s help. I don’t need anything else.

Luke can’t be here for you all the time when you do need something. I have flexible hours, so I’m willing to work with your schedule to make this transition as comfortable—

No.

Will you please stop cutting me off? She had worlds of patience at hand, but nothing annoyed her like being interrupted.

He propped his arms on the rests. Say what you gotta say then.

A few months ago, you could walk and do whatever you wanted. You were a bull rider, right?

He gave a curt nod.

Everything changed when you had your car wreck. The world as you knew it went right out the window. No more bull rides. And I’m really sorry about your wife. It must be difficult knowing that she passed while you survived, even with injuries as extensive as yours.

He held up his hand.

She paused.

Okay if I talk now? He narrowed his eyes at her.

Of course.

You think you know me ‘cause you read a file or picked up a newspaper. You have no idea what’s going on here. The trouble we’re in. Luke’s harebrained plan to pay you when we should be putting every cent into this ranch. Bringing you here was one hundred percent his idea and it was stupid.

If he meant his little speech to scare her off, he had another think coming. Can I ask why?

Because someone is trying to kill me.

Shocked, no words came to mind.

It sounds crazy. His jaw tightened again before he went on. But that wreck was no accident. Someone ran us off the road. The county cops don’t believe me. Luke doesn’t even believe me. No one saw the van that ran me and my wife off the road, but it was there.

He sounded sincere. The anger coming through his words was convincing.

I’m sorry about your wife.

Don’t be. We were headed for a divorce. She’d been sleeping around. Stony faced, he looked away from her. You ought to be worried about you. If whoever wanted me dead comes back, you’re in the way. I have no doubt he’ll try to take you out too.

Will, forgive me, but it sounds a little far-fetched. I don’t want to insult you, but is there any chance the van was a figment of your imagination? A way to resolve the accident in your mind?

He gave a bitter laugh. Figured you’d say something like that. Just like everyone else. He waved his hands. Will’s out of his mind. Imagining vans and killers. Fine. Don’t believe me. It’s your ass. I gave you fair warning.

You did. Let’s leave it at that. She shifted. His file hadn’t mentioned anything about delusions. Maybe he was only trying to scare her away. I know Luke is the one who initially contacted my company and asked that someone be sent out here to help you. That was nice of him. I’m very capable of handling my duties. You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure with a house this old, you’ve had some difficulties managing with your injuries.

His face softened a fraction. Luke’s been helpful, but he’s needed out there, not in here. I can go out there some, but not enough to keep up with the ranch. He met her gaze. So basically, I’m useless.

She’d done a little research on her new client. He’d won competition after competition for bull riding. Top of his game. Until six months ago when he’d been driving in the rain with his wife, and they’d lost control of the vehicle. It ended up rolling three times before sliding down an embankment. His wife hadn’t been wearing her seatbelt. She’d been thrown from the truck. Will had worn his, but there was so much damage to the truck, four of his lumbar discs had been traumatized. An incomplete injury, which might be in his favor. Years of riding bulls that had minds of their own and he’d been defeated by a car wreck. Mind-boggling proof that life was often unpredictable.

No one is useless. She shook her head. In your file it says that you still help with the chores. Your upper body is strong. You can lift forty pounds with no problem. The wheelchair you have is perfect for getting outdoors. You should be happy about that.

I’d rather have my legs. He tapped his finger on his right thigh. You don’t know what it’s like being trapped in this thing.

There are a lot of people worse off than you.

Gee, never heard that before. I feel better already. His mouth twisted in a grimace. Some of them are lucky enough to be dead.

Had he always been so sarcastic, or had he had time to perfect it over the last six months? I think it’s that kind of talk that might give Luke reason to worry about your mental health.

He thinks because he’s my half-brother he has a reason to worry. To care. Will folded his arms. Jerk.

I didn’t know you were related. That explained why Luke had pursued a healthcare aide.

He’s a year younger than me, Will muttered.

You’re lucky to have someone who cares. Especially if what he said about his wife was true.

Whatever. Sullen again, he wouldn’t look at her.

We can be friends, Will. You can never have too many. Beyond him, inside the dimly lit bedroom, piles of dirty clothes lay on the floor. His bed was unmade. The dresser had random objects, including dishes and fast-food wrappers, scattered across it. It looks like you could use the help, at least.

"I don’t want help."

It was worse than having a conversation with a teenager. I don’t understand. You made it through rehab all right. You participated in physical therapy and outings. You learned how to take care of yourself, but things have gone downhill. Can you tell me why?

I don’t have to explain anything to you.

All right, that’s true. Look let’s make a deal. We’ll give this a try. Just a couple of weeks. If you can’t stand me being here after that, I’ll go. I won’t even look back. She offered her hand. Give it a shot?

I know what this place looks like. I know how pathetic I must seem. He worked his jaw. I don’t need your pity.

It’s not about pity. It’s about a paycheck. And God knew she needed it. Bills seemed to rack up faster than paydays came around. She knew Will and Luke probably felt that crushing weight too.

He grabbed her hand, shook it with his callused one. Fine, but you don’t understand what you’re getting into.

I’m sure I don’t but thank you for the chance to work with you. She released his hand. I’d love to help you with the laundry since it looks like you have a little that needs to be taken care of.

He lowered his gaze. I can’t reach inside the machine to get it out.

That can be a problem. They make appliances that might help you get more household chores done. It could benefit you to look into them some time.

He arched an eyebrow. Look around. This seem like the kind of house that’s getting new appliances any time soon?

She bit the inside of her cheek then shook her head. Sorry. It was only a suggestion. If you want to sort your laundry, I’d be happy to put it in and take it out.

I never sort anything. Doesn’t matter what it comes out looking like. He uncrossed his arms. I don’t like people going through my laundry.

What happens when you run out of clean clothes?

His gaze flickered to hers and his face turned bright red. Sometimes I wash ‘em in the sink if Luke can’t get to it.

Oh. At least he was making an attempt. We can do better than that. There’s no time to waste. It won’t take a couple of hours to finish it. This is what I’m here for.

His mouth twitched. I don’t like it.

But you need it.

Maybe, he muttered. Aren’t you embarrassed to wash a stranger’s underwear?

She turned her hands palms up. I’ve been doing this for years. It’s nothing new to me. I’ve done worse tasks.

Like wiping butts?

That too. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Sometimes the patients I help have dementia or Alzheimer’s. They’re the toughest cases. This is a pretty easy one.

Nothing about this has been easy. He gripped the arm rests and the muscles in his forearms flexed. I hate being stuck in this damn chair.

It hadn’t been long since he’d gotten the news that he was likely never getting out of it permanently—hence the fancy technology on it. It couldn’t have been easy for him to deal with. I know. I could tell you I’m sorry about it, but it wouldn’t help. You’ll learn to adjust. You might even gain some strength in your muscles if you went back to PT.

I’d almost rather be dead. His eyes took on a vacant look and he dropped his hands into his lap. This ain’t no way to live.

Gooseflesh erupted on her skin. You shouldn’t say that. Hard as it seems right now, things will get better. I’ve seen it happen.

I’m not going to do anything, he grumbled. He backed up the chair and let her into the room. Cross my heart.

I’m holding you to that.

His laundry basket was already filled, and shirts overflowed from the sides. We’ll just start with this.

For a second, his mouth pinched. I can’t reach the hangers to put them back up.

You have power tools?

Will nodded. In the barn.

Then I can unscrew the bar that’s already there and lower it for you.

Thanks. It came out gruff.

He didn’t want her to lower it, of course, preferring it to remain where it always had. Like it had when he was able to stand. But the circumstances didn’t allow for that.

We’ll make this housework for you again. Don’t worry.

I’d rather be magicked out of this chair and back onto my horse. This isn’t how I ever pictured living.

I’d wave my wand and put you back on your feet if I could, but we have to make the best of what we’ve got. She hefted the laundry basket onto her hip. Which way to the laundry room?

She didn’t quite live a glamorous lifestyle—certainly not when she had to sort through other people’s dirty underwear—but she was able to make her clients’ lives a little easier. Will had gotten his share of bad luck—and then some. If she could help him relax and come to terms with his new way of life, that would be worthwhile.

Chapter Two

You were hard on her, Will." Luke leaned on the doorframe as Jessi’s car pulled out of the drive that evening.

Will dropped a scrap of deli meat into Chester’s waiting mouth. The cattle dog snapped his jaws closed, then licked his chops, waiting for more.

This wasn’t my idea. And I seem to recall that women like men who’re taller than they are. Not hunched up, wheelchair-bound, washed-up half men. He wiped his fingers on his jeans. The nerves beneath his skin felt dead. It was like poking at cold clay. His stomach churned the same way it always did when he woke up and remembered he was never going to walk again. I don’t have any reason to flirt with women anymore.

"No one mentioned flirting. I think most humans like a little