One Tall, Dusty Cowboy. Stella Bagwell
her parents’ dysfunctional marriage had affected Lilly deeply. By the time she’d entered her teen years, she’d sworn that her life was going to be different. She would love the man she married and he would love her equally. There wouldn’t be arguing, threats or tears. But now, years later, she’d learned that love wasn’t that easy to find and life had a way of producing tears.
“I’ve never been married,” she told Bart.
“How come? You don’t like men?”
She let out a silent sigh. “I like them. I just haven’t found one I like enough to share the rest of my life with. I’m particular, I suppose.”
“Particular is good. That means you’re smart.”
Smart? In many ways Lilly supposed she was smart. She had a good education and she’d been told by many of her peers that she was an excellent and intelligent nurse. But in her personal life, she’d made mistakes she was still trying to forget.
She glanced over at the large window and a view of the distant desert hills. The Silver Horn was known far and wide for its wealth, horses and cowboys. And though she wasn’t familiar with ranch life, she had to admit this place, and the family who ran it, intrigued her.
“Did you live on this ranch when you got married?” she asked Bart.
“Yes. But it wasn’t the place it is now. My father started the Horn back in 1909 from just a bare spot—where the barns are now. Over time as his herd multiplied, he bought more land. Eventually, his profit grew and he sank part of it in lucrative investments. That’s how it all got started. By the time he died in 1960 I was in my thirties, so I took over and tried to follow in his footsteps.”
“Well, your father clearly taught you well. It’s a beautiful place,” Lilly told him. “You must be very proud.”
“I’m more proud of my grandsons,” he said, then added, “When I get better I’m going to personally show you around the ranch. How would you like that, Lilly?”
Glancing around, she smiled at the elder Calhoun. “It’s a date.”
Bart chuckled and something about the smug sound reminded Lilly of Rafe. Like grandfather, like grandson? No. Bart had clearly loved his wife, whereas Rafe would never settle for one woman.
* * *
A half hour later Bart had completed his therapy for the day and Lilly was driving down the long drive that led away from the house, when a horse and rider suddenly galloped up beside the car.
Slightly panicked by the nearness of the animal to her vehicle door, she jammed on the brakes and the small car came to a jarring halt in the middle of the road.
By the time she’d collected herself enough to look around, Rafe had already leaped from the saddle and was standing next to the door, motioning for her to lower the window.
As soon as the glass was no longer a screen between them, she blasted, “Are you out of your mind? You could have killed both of us!”
Laughing at her discomfiture, he said, “Roscoe knew what he was doing. He could thread through a stand of brush without ever getting a scratch.”
His grinning face made her want to groan and laugh at the same time. “I’m glad your Roscoe knew what he was doing because you certainly didn’t!”
“Since you don’t really know me, I’m not going to take that comment to heart.”
His gray eyes were gliding over her face like slow, searching fingers, touching each contour of each feature. And suddenly she was acutely aware of her bare face and the messy bun pinned atop her head. “You can take it any way you’d like, Mr. Calhoun. But I need to be on my way. Would you like to get to your reason for this dramatic stop?”
“I wanted to see you again. That’s the reason.”
Her nostrils flared. “I should have guessed it wasn’t to inquire about your grandfather’s health.”
Behind him, the blue roan nudged his hand and he affectionately curled his arm around the horse’s nose and tucked it against his side.
“So how is Gramps doing?”
“I’m proud of him. He’s trying very hard.”
“Gramps never was a quitter. Has he been giving you a hard time?”
The way he asked the question made it sound as though he’d be glad to intervene on her behalf. Like a gallant knight ready to defend her. The notion touched her and she couldn’t stop a small smile from curling her lips.
“Contrary to what you or others might think, your grandfather has been very sweet to me. Even when I’m ordering him to do more.”
Disbelief appeared in his eyes. “Dad implied you were a miracle worker. He must be right.”
She shouldn’t let his casual compliment affect her, but it did. Her job was her life. To be praised for her effort, even by Rafe Calhoun, felt good.
He and Roscoe drew closer and suddenly Lilly couldn’t keep her eyes off him. There was something so vibrant and male about his rugged features that she forgot to breathe and very nearly forgot to think.
“Thanks, but I’m just doing my job,” she told him. “And your grandfather and I just happened to hit it off.”
Leaning his head through the open window, he said, “Well, actually, I had another motive for stopping you.”
For some ridiculous reason her gaze settled on his lips and immediately the image of kissing him danced into her thoughts. Would he taste as rough and tough and male as he looked? she wondered. Oh, Lord, she had to quit looking. Had to quit fantasizing.
“And what was that?” she asked.
He grinned and Lilly decided the slightly crooked line of his teeth matched the rest of him. Raw, natural and untamed.
“I wanted to let you know that I took your advice and had a talk with the man in the mirror. But he didn’t know a Romeo.”
“You’re incorrigible!”
He chuckled. “I can dance, too. Why don’t we go out this evening and I’ll show you?”
Inwardly groaning, she asked herself how she’d managed to get herself into this predicament. Instead of stopping on the road, she should’ve floored the gas pedal and left the man and his horse in the dust.
“Sorry, but I have to work tonight.”
“Okay, then tomorrow night,” he persisted.
“I have to work then, too.”
He rolled his eyes. “Is there a night you don’t have to work?”
If she lied about her work schedule, she might stand a chance of getting rid of this man’s attentions once and for all. But lying to Rafe didn’t appeal to her and if she was being totally honest with herself, she didn’t want to get rid of him. For the first time in years, he was making her feel excited. Making her remember that she was more than a nurse; she was a woman.
Her heart suddenly jumped into a fast, reckless rhythm. “Monday is my night off.”
“Great! I’ll pick you up at seven.”
She gave him her address, then seeing he had no way to write it down, she asked, “Will you remember that?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”
Lifting a hand in farewell, he moved away from the car and swung himself into the saddle and all Lilly could do was watch him gallop away. What was she getting herself into? she wondered.
And why couldn’t she resist finding out...?