by Kim Redford
She glanced down at her ring finger that now felt naked without Shane’s star sapphire ring.
But that was about to change.
Chapter 37
After the rodeo was over, after the lights were out, after everybody was headed home or to Wildcat Hall, Eden clasped Shane’s hand, leaned into his strong body, and whispered in his ear.
She didn’t have to ask twice. He simply put an arm around her shoulders and walked with her to his pickup. Once inside, she set her purse on the floorboard and leaned back against the seat. He gave her a lingering kiss before he started the engine and headed north toward the Red River.
She closed her eyes as she listened to the drone of the motor, inhaled his tantalizing scent of sage and leather, and felt the tension melt out of her body as he turned onto No-Name Road leading to Lovers Leap.
When he reached the top of the bluff, he parked under the spreading limbs of an ancient oak now clothed with the green leaves of early spring. Moonlight turned the ribbon of river below into a mysterious silver trail that led into the distance while stars twinkled overhead in the endless sky.
“I’m proud of you,” Shane said in his deep, melodic voice. “You handled the entire event just like the pro you are, like you’ve always been.”
She glanced over at his profile, so strong, so reassuring, so dear to her heart. “Thank you.”
“The rodeo was a big success, wasn’t it?”
“Oh yes.” She exhaled on the words, feeling so happy that all had gone well. “I bet between the rodeo admissions and online donations, we made enough to keep Wildcat Bluff Fire-Rescue in operation till Christmas.”
“That’s the truth. And we couldn’t have done it without you and KWCB.”
“I was only a small part of making the rodeo a success.”
“You were an essential part. And you really did well tonight.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure my voice would hold out. I’m so much better, but—”
“Never doubt the power of Morning Glory. She’s healed half the county with her tonics, lotions, or kind words at one time or another.”
“She’s special, isn’t she? Then again, all of Wildcat Bluff County is so very special.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Is anybody in the county particularly special to you?”
She returned his squeeze, reveling in the powerful connection that zinged between them with just a single touch. “Let’s see. Could it be a big, strong, handsome cowboy firefighter?”
He slanted a teasing glance her way. “There are plenty of guys in this county who fit that description. I’m starting to get jealous.”
“No need.” She raised his hand and placed a soft kiss on each fingertip. “There’s only one cowboy firefighter in the county who holds my heart in the palm of his hand.”
“You’d better be more specific before I—”
“Give me what I’m waiting for?”
“I’m happy to give you anything your heart desires, but first I want to hear the name of that cowboy firefighter on your lips.”
She smiled, enjoying their banter. “You’ve heard his name on my lips plenty of times—at very particular times.”
He chuckled as he leaned toward her, hemming her in with his broad shoulders. “And what’s his name?”
“His name?” She teased him as she pulled her hand away and put a fingertip to her chin, as if trying to remember.
“That’s it!” He opened his door, leaped out, and started around the front of his truck.
Now she had him exactly where she wanted him. Outside. She quickly reached into her purse, pulled out the beautiful star sapphire ring, and slipped it—almost reverently—onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It felt just right. She opened the door and stepped out as he reached up for her. She slid into his arms, all done with teasing banter now.
“Do you remember that night?” She tugged him out from under the oak’s thick foliage and toward the river’s edge.
“How could I forget?” He put an arm around her shoulders and snuggled her close. “You were all dolled up, looking like a princess and smelling like heaven.”
“You took me to heaven.” She glanced up at the sky, where stars sparkled like jewels across the dark canopy. “Remember how we saw the shooting star?”
“I’ll always remember.”
“I knew in that moment we were meant to be together at least once before I left town.”
“I knew it, too, but I never wanted to let you go.”
She raised her hand, revealing that she finally wore his ring, and traced a line across the heavens with the star sapphire shining in the moonlight. “Now you need never let me go.”
“Never.” He clasped her hand and placed her palm over his heart as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her engagement ring. “Our shooting star is another reason I chose the star sapphire. It’s a symbol of our magical midnight.”
She turned to look up at his face. “Shane Taggart, I love you and I desperately want to marry you.”
“I’ve loved you forever and I’ll love you till the end of time.”
She felt tears fill her eyes as happiness cascaded through every little bit of her.
“Let’s get married soon,” he said. “I can’t wait for you to permanently move into the Rocky T ranch house.”
“I feel as if I never left.”
“You didn’t—not all of you.”
“Do you think we could elope?”
“I wish, but we’d never hear the end of it.” He looked out across the river, then back at her. “I suppose we’d better throw a big wedding party on the ranch. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wildcat Jack turned up live streaming for KWCB.”
She smiled at the thought, knowing it was absolutely true. “If all of Wildcat Bluff County is going to be at our wedding, then why not invite the whole world?”
“I guess this is what comes from marrying a star—a shooting star. But no cameras get past our front door.”
“You don’t want to share your ranch house?”
“Our home.” He lifted her hand, so the star sapphire sparkled against the black velvet of the night. “Once we lock the door and go into our bedroom, the world can party on its lonesome.”
“While the two of us party together forever.” And she pressed a hot kiss to his lips…just at midnight.
Order Kim Redford’s next book
in the Smokin’ Hot Cowboys series
Cowboy Firefighter Christmas Feast
On sale October 2019
Read on for a look at the next Smokin’ Hot Cowboys novel,
Available October 2019
from Sourcebooks Casablanca
Chapter 1
“There’s never a dull moment in life, not with sister Fern stirring it up,” Ivy Bryant said to the silent walls of one of the oldest dance halls in Texas. She did a little twirl on the scuffed, slat-wood floor as if she had a dance partner. Wildcat Hall might not be as famous as Gruene Hall in the Hill Country, but her honky-tonk had a sterling reputation in Wildcat Bluff County.
“And Fern promised she’d stay put this time.” Ivy thrust out her arms to both sides and twirled harder in the center of the large room that had rows of long, narrow, hand-made wooden tables with matching benches placed on each side of the dance floor. “Famous last words of a rolling stone. Did I really believe her, or did I just want to believe her?”
She stopped, let her arms fall to her sides, and looked with a kind of wonder toward a recessed, raised stage and hand-painted backdrop. “In Houston, I’d be designing websites by day and enjoying my friends at night. Here I’m still designing websites by day but running a honky-tonk at night.”
She chuckled, still feeling surprised at the turn her life had taken. She was here to manage the place, but she hardly believed it, because what d
id she know about running a dance hall? It was now all hers—or at least the half her sister didn’t own, but Fern was gone on a gig for who knew how long, dropping the Wildcat Hall ball into Ivy’s hands.
She put her fists on her hips as she glanced from the stage to the other end of the dance floor at the long bar that served munchies, beer, and wine. Two open windows allowed bartenders to service customers on the dance hall side and on the front bar side at the same time. It seemed to her that it was a practical setup, although she was certainly no expert.
She walked into the front bar through an open doorway. For her, this room was the heart and soul of Wildcat Hall, and she relished the cozy, old-fashioned ambience that had nurtured folks for well over a hundred years.
Decor was minimal. Rusty metal beer advertisement signs had been tacked around the walls along with sepia-toned photographs of cowboys on horseback and country music legends. A framed Lone Star State flag hung in back of the bar, and a rack of deer antlers loomed above the double front doors.
Ivy glanced at the tattered cardboard box of Christmas decorations that she’d found in a storeroom. Businesses were already putting up holiday decor, and she didn’t want the Hall to be left behind. She pulled out a long string of red tinsel, walked over to the antlers, and tossed the strand upward. It fell back. She needed a ladder, but she hadn’t found one yet. She picked up the tinsel and tossed again. No luck.
As she gazed at the antlers with a skeptical eye, she heard a truck pull up outside. By now, folks should’ve heard the honky-tonk was closed for a week while she figured out how to manage it. Even if the front door was unlocked, since she’d been running in and out, there was a big sign with bright red letters on the door that read CLOSED. No need for folks even to get out of their pickups.
She looped the tinsel around her neck, picked up a straight-back chair from under a table, and set the chair under the antlers. Now she was getting somewhere. She stood on the seat, adjusting her stance to keep her balance while the chair wobbled on uneven legs. She lifted the strand as high as she could manage, but she still couldn’t drape it around the antlers. The Hall’s high ceilings made for good airflow, along with an impressive historical statement.
Not as big a statement as fancy honky-tonks like Billy Bob’s Texas in the Fort Worth stockyards, with 127,000 square feet of boot-scooting space, or the famous Longhorn Ballroom in Dallas, with 20,000 square feet. But Wildcat Hall was plenty spacious, with 4,000 square feet inside and room for more in a large beer garden with picnic tables outside. She just wished the Hall had the tourist draw of those two famous places, but a major destination attraction and music venue could be built with the right promotion and entertainment. Still, she was getting ahead of herself. For the moment, she just needed to put up a few decorations to add Christmas cheer to the place.
As she stood on her tiptoes with arms raised again, she heard the side door that led to the beer garden open and boots hit the floor with determined stride.
“We’re closed!” she hollered, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “Come back next week.”
“You look like you could use a little help.”
She froze with her hands in the air as she felt the deep male voice, with that melodic slow cadence of a born and bred Texan, strike her body and go deep, as if she’d been pierced by a flaming arrow. Talk about red hot. She tried to shrug off the heat, but the chair shifted under her, making her sway.
“Easy does it,” he said. “Chairs have a way of pretending they’re bulls sometimes.”
“Bulls?” She didn’t know whether to laugh at a joke or appreciate he’d tried to make her feel better about almost toppling to the floor. Still and all, if she’d known she was going to have company, she’d have put on something besides formfitting yoga pants and top in hot pink with black trim. He was getting an eyeful.
“In my case, I always tried to pretend bulls were chairs.”
“How’d that work out?” She eyed the antlers, mind half on her next throw and half on the amusing man behind her.
“About like you can imagine.” He sighed, as if life had been unfair. “I finally had to give up bulls for chairs.”
“I bet the bulls were grateful.” She definitely wanted to see the face that went with the voice, but she wanted more to finish her task.
“Yeah…but I’ve broken a few chairs.”
“Maybe even my chair.”
“Looks like it’s keeping an uneasy peace with the floor.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” She rose to her tiptoes again, trying one last time to get the tinsel to disobey the laws of gravity.
“Let me help.” He spanned her waist with large hands and lifted her so she could easily reach the antlers.
She caught her breath in surprise at his strength—and his boldness. But she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. She quickly twined the antlers with red tinsel until they looked festive for the holidays.
“Pretty,” he said.
She felt his breath caress the bare skin on the back of her neck because she wore her auburn hair in a ponytail. She shivered in response. What had gotten into her? She should be struggling to get away. Instead he was revving her up with his hot breath and hotter hands.
“Got any more tinsel to put up?” he asked in a deep voice gone husky. “I could hold you all day and into next week.”
“I suggest you put me down before you get into trouble.”
“If you’re the one handing out trouble, I’d wait in line to get it.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle, because he was laying it on thick in that teasing way Texas men would do to get them out of problems with women. “Better put me down before your arms give out.”
“Not a chance. You’re light as a feather.”
She laughed harder. “Guess some women would fall for that one. What are you selling?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you, but you might consider it selling to you, too.” He gently set her down so her feet were steady on the floor, and then he stepped back.
She turned to face him—and felt her breath catch in her throat at the tall hunk of a cowboy.
He wore pressed Wranglers that accentuated his long legs and narrow hips, with a wide leather belt sporting a huge rodeo belt buckle. His blue-and-white-stripe, pearl-snap shirt, tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans, emphasized the width of his shoulders and breadth of his chest. Blond-haired. Blue-eyed. Square-jawed. Full-lipped. He looked as if he’d been made to dazzle—and she was suddenly and breathtakingly susceptible to every single one of his charms.
“Whatever you’re selling, I think I’m buying.” She spoke the words with a teasing lilt in her voice and a mischievous smile on her face. Still, she meant it. And he probably knew it, because he was definitely heartbreaker material. How many women had already fallen to his charms and been left in the dust? She didn’t intend to be a notch on his belt, but if she’d known leaving the city for the country paid off so well in eye candy, she might’ve followed her sister sooner.
He chuckled at her words and held out his hand with the thick muscular wrist that came from controlling thousand-pound-plus beasts. “Slade Steele. If you haven’t heard of me, maybe you’re aware of the Chuckwagon Café and Steele Trap Ranch. Family businesses. I’m not just any guy off the street.”
“You’re definitely not just any guy.” She slipped her hand into his big one and felt him gently enclose her fingers.
“And you’re definitely good for my ego,” he said with a smile as he let his gaze drop all the way down the length of her and back up to her face. “I thought your sister was lovely and bright and talented, but you leave her in the shade.”
“Smart guy to throw a few compliments my way. Guess you’re more than a pretty face.” She tried to keep the teasing going so their interaction stayed on a light note, but he was still holding
her hand and she wasn’t pulling away, and his eyes were heating up to a blazing, blue fire.
“Nothing but the truth.”
“Fern is the star.” She tried to tug her hand away, but he held on another long moment, nodding as if deciding something or conveying something or accepting something before finally letting go.
He grinned with a gleam in his eyes, revealing teeth white against the tan of his skin. “Yeah, she is that…but you make the earth move.”
“Oh my.” She returned his grin while fanning her face with one hand in that old Southern way as if he was too hot to handle. “You really do want to sell me something, don’t you?”
“How am I doing?”
“Not bad.” She pivoted and walked away from him, intentionally putting the heat they were generating behind her. She wasn’t in Wildcat Bluff for a guy. She was here to salvage her financial investment. She had to keep that fact firmly in mind because she was city, not country, and she was here only so long as it took to take care of business. A good-looking, fast-talking cowboy wasn’t anywhere on her agenda, particularly one who might slow down her getaway.
“How is Fern?”
“My sister is always okay.” She leaned her elbows on top of the bar and resisted a long sigh because she’d been here before one too many times. She heard Slade approach, noticing the unevenness of his step for the first time as if he limped from an injury. She wondered how he’d been hurt, thinking how he’d mentioned bulls, but knew it’d be rude to ask. She glanced over at him, deciding to get the explaining over as quickly as possible.
“She left without a word,” he said quietly but intently—almost accusingly.
“That’s Fern.” She turned around and leaned back against the edge of the bar and propped a heel on the long runner. “I suppose she left broken hearts and broken dreams behind her.”