Wildflower Ridge

by Sherryl Woods

  “Back so soon?” she asked.

  “Had to get my hourly fix of the prettiest woman in Los Piños,” he teased.

  “Sharon Lynn, get out here,” Patsy called. “Justin’s looking for you.”

  He grinned. “Very funny.”

  He looked past her just then and spotted his grandfather. To Patsy’s amusement, he regarded him suspiciously.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Do you think you’re the only one in the world who appreciates a beautiful woman?” his grandfather asked.

  “Go find your own. This one’s mine,” Justin said.

  “Says who?” Patsy inquired.

  “Whooee,” his grandfather said, grinning. “I like this girl.”

  Justin turned his gaze from his grandfather to Patsy. His expression sobered. “So do I, Grandpa. So do I.”

  “Then I’ll just run along and leave you to see what you can do about getting her to change her mind about you.”

  After he’d gone, Justin focused on Patsy. “So, what about it? Can I change your mind?”

  “About?”

  “Being mine.”

  Something in his tone told her the question wasn’t being asked in jest. And as desperately as one part of her wanted to say yes, another part reminded her that once before she’d been too eager to jump into a relationship. She hadn’t even fully extricated herself from that mistake yet.

  “Maybe one of these days,” she said. She glanced around to make sure they were unobserved, then leaned across the counter to brush a kiss across his lips. “You are awfully cute.”

  When she would have drawn away, Justin tucked his hand around the back of her neck and held her still long enough to deepen the kiss into something wild and sweet.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he suggested when he released her.

  “Two nights running. People will talk,” she teased.

  “Darlin’, I’m beginning to think it’s our civic duty to give them something fascinating to talk about.”

  “That sounds a little too self-serving to me.”

  He grinned. “I was going for noble. What about it, though? Will you have dinner with me? We’ll go someplace quiet and romantic.”

  Patsy had been to most of the restaurants in town. None she knew qualified. “Where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Justin, I really think you ought to tell me. I have a son to consider.”

  “Taken care of. He’s going out to the ranch to spend the night. Janet says she can’t wait.”

  Once again, he was taking over, smoothing things out to get his own way. Maybe under other circumstances she would have found the gesture touching. Instead, it rankled.

  “Don’t you think you should have consulted me before making arrangements for my son?” she asked testily.

  “The plans aren’t cast in stone,” he replied, his tone reasonable. “If you have a problem with them, we’ll change them.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is the point?” he asked patiently.

  “I don’t need somebody to run my life for me, Justin. I’ve been there, done that, and I didn’t like it.”

  He nodded slowly. “I see.”

  “Do you really?”

  “I think so. Will pretty much set the agenda for your lives and expected you to fall in line. How am I doing so far?”

  There was that perception of his kicking in again to surprise her. “On the money,” she admitted.

  “I’ll try to be more sensitive to that in the future,” he promised.

  She shrugged, not entirely trusting an easily made and easily broken promise. The proof would have to come over time.

  He gave her one of his crooked, endearing smiles. “Can we start this conversation over again?”

  She hesitated, then grinned back, unable to resist him in the end. “What the heck, give it a try.”

  “Patsy, would you care to have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I’d be delighted,” she said, because she could recognize the stupidity of turning down a date with a man she loved just to make a point.

  “What about a baby-sitter for Billy? Need any help in making arrangements?”

  “I’ll volunteer,” Sharon Lynn offered, joining them.

  It was impossible to tell how much of the earlier conversation she’d overheard, but Patsy was grateful for the offer. “Are you sure you won’t mind?”

  “Heavens, no. It’ll be fun. I can even stay over at your place. That way I won’t have to have someone from the ranch come into town to pick me up tonight and you won’t have to rush back home.” She grinned. “In fact, you could stay out all night if you wanted to.”

  Patsy almost laughed at the hopeful expression on Justin’s face. “Okay, it’s a deal,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “No,” Sharon Lynn said softly. “You’re the one doing me a favor.”

  Her expression was so sad that Patsy was taken aback. She had seen firsthand how getting into a car had panicked Sharon Lynn. Now she realized just what a toll the trips into town and home again were taking. Suddenly she knew that if she weren’t staying in Dani’s old place, Sharon Lynn would have snatched it up for herself to rid herself of the frightening commute.

  Before she could second-guess herself, she said casually, “You know, Sharon Lynn, if you wanted to, you could stay with Billy and me for a while.”

  The suggestion startled both Justin and Sharon Lynn, but Sharon Lynn seized on it with such a look of relief that Patsy knew she’d done the right thing.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? It would save me...” She hesitated, then sighed, not quite meeting Patsy’s gaze. “It would save a lot of time.”

  Patsy met her gaze evenly. “I understand, and it would be fine with me. And I have no intention of thinking of you as a built-in baby-sitter. I’ll enjoy the company.”

  “What about my company?” Justin demanded irritably.

  “You, cousin dear, are an entirely different kind of company,” Sharon Lynn teased. “And I’m sure she enjoys that, too.”

  “I do,” Patsy assured him.

  “Then we’re on for dinner?”

  “We are definitely on for dinner.”

  He grinned. “And after?”

  “Don’t push your luck, lawman. We’ll negotiate the details over dinner.”

  He touched a finger to his Stetson in a mock salute as he put it back on. “I’ll be looking forward to it, ma’am. What time shall I pick you up?”

  “Why don’t I pick you up?” she suggested, as a perfectly fascinating idea occurred to her.

  “Why not? I’m a flexible kind of guy.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Sharon Lynn taunted.

  He scowled at his cousin, then said to Patsy, “Don’t listen to a thing she says about me. She’s never forgiven me for laughing when she fell off a horse in front of...” The teasing light in his eyes died. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  Tears welled up in Sharon Lynn’s eyes, but she reached over and touched Justin’s lips. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for reminding me of the good times. It’s just that...”

  “It’s just that the wound is still raw,” Justin said. “But you’re going to be okay, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” she said, forcing a wobbly smile. “We Adamses are made of tough stuff.”

  “The toughest,” Justin concurred.

  But looking at the tenderness in Justin’s expression as he watched Sharon Lynn, Patsy knew he was wrong. Justin Adams, at least, had the softest heart she’d ever seen.

  * * *

  Justin had no idea why it had been so important to Patsy to pick him up that night, but he was going nuts waiting for her. Was this how women felt all the time waiting
for their dates to arrive? No wonder some of them were itching to turn into control freaks.

  Oh, he’d recognized what that whole discussion at Dolan’s had been about that afternoon. Will Longhorn had dictated every aspect of his wife’s life and she didn’t intend to let it happen again. He had to wonder, though, how long these bids for independence were likely to go on. Would she refuse to marry him just to prove she could get along on her own? Or could he persuade her that it was possible to be half of a whole without losing her own identity? Tonight would be a fascinating test of his theory that she needed to know that at least some of the decisions in their relationship were hers to make.

  When the doorbell rang at last, he bolted to answer it. To his astonishment, in spite of the humid evening air and clear skies, Patsy was wearing a raincoat.

  “Expecting a storm?” he inquired lightly.

  She gave him an enigmatic look. “In a manner of speaking. May I come in?”

  He stepped aside. “Be my guest.”

  She sailed past him in a cloud of very seductive perfume. By the time he could recover from that and had closed the door, she had disappeared.

  “Patsy?”

  “Back here,” she said in a tone that could have lured ships to crash into rocky cliffs.

  There was no question that her voice was coming from the bedroom, his bedroom, unless he missed his guess. He swallowed hard. Something told him that dinner was going to be very late and was going to consist of whatever was in his freezer.

  When he got to the door to his room and glanced inside, his mouth gaped. Patsy was standing in the middle of the room in a black negligee so scanty he thought for sure his heart would slam to a stop if he stared at her too long.

  “Won’t you get cold at the restaurant?” he asked when he could find his voice.

  Her confident expression faltered just a little. “You still want to go out?”

  He barely held back a grin at her wistful tone. “Not if you don’t.”

  “I thought I was making myself pretty clear.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten our signals crossed.”

  “Justin, you will never make sheriff if you can’t read a clue this obvious.”

  He grinned. “Okay, let me try.” He paused thoughtfully. “You are less interested in dinner than you are in seduction.”

  She stepped toward him and nodded. “Very good,” she praised.

  She slid her arms around his neck. “And this?”

  “No waiting?”

  “Oh, yes,” she murmured just before she stood on tiptoe and kissed him with an enthusiasm that left not a single doubt in either of their minds about how they were going to spend the rest of the evening.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Patsy was very proud of the way she’d managed to render Justin Adams totally speechless. Lying next to him in his bed, she felt as if she’d finally come home, finally met a man who thought of her as an equal, a partner. Maybe she was being a fool for setting some artificial time constraint on the relationship.

  “Satisfied?” he asked, regarding her with an amused look.

  “Oh, my, yes,” she said.

  “What happens now?” he asked.

  Her expression faltered. “I guess that depends on you.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t, Patsy Gresham Longhorn. For the past twenty-four hours you’ve been telling me every way you knew how that you are capable of making your own decisions, capable of taking the initiative, capable of standing on your own two feet, that you insist on standing on your own two feet, come what may.”

  “There are still some things that are a man’s prerogative,” she admitted unwillingly.

  “Such as?”

  She was not going to put these words into his mouth. Nor was she quite brave enough to demand that he marry her and make an honest woman of her. Maybe if neither of them could put the question into words, there was a reason for it. Maybe it really was too soon after Will.

  Even if she did absolutely adore being in his bed, with his arms around her and her head resting against his chest.

  She sighed, rolled over and stood up. Justin regarded her with surprise.

  “Where are you going?”

  “You promised me dinner.”

  “Sorry, darlin’. The cupboard’s practically bare.” He grinned. “We could order in. That would certainly make Angie’s day over at the Italian restaurant. Or we could call Rosa and ask her to deliver some Mexican. Of course, she is related to the housekeeper at White Pines, which means there would be more talk.”

  “Are you saying there is not one tiny little scrap of food in this house?”

  “Not even a cracker.” He surveyed her thoroughly. “And you’re not exactly dressed to go to the restaurant I had in mind.” He beckoned to her. “Maybe if you climb back into bed I can make you forget all about your growling tummy.”

  “I’m sure you could,” she agreed. “But without food neither of us will survive another round of really energetic sex.”

  “Then we’ll take it nice and slow,” he said in a provocative way that set her blood to pumping furiously.

  She was still standing there debating the wisdom of that when Justin’s beeper went off. In an instant, he was all cop. He grabbed the beeper from his nightstand, reaching for the phone at the same time.

  “What is it?” he demanded, even as he scrambled to find clothes. His expression sobered. “I see. Okay, I’m on my way.”

  He slammed the phone down, pulled on his shirt and unlocked the drawer to get his gun. Patsy watched him and shivered. It was a full minute before he glanced her way and noticed her expression.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No, it’s okay. Of course, you have to go. What’s happened?”

  “We’ve got a high speed chase on the interstate heading this way. Tate wants me to set up a roadblock.”

  Patsy’s blood ran cold as images of Sharon Lynn’s wrecked car came whirling back.

  He touched a finger to her cheek. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I know. It’s just that...”

  “The accident,” he said succinctly. “I’ll be fine, Patsy. We have important things left to finish here tonight. I’ll make sure I get back before you even miss me.”

  “Not possible,” she told him softly. He wasn’t out the door and she missed him already.

  The instant he was gone, panic began to set in. What if he never came back? What if something happened and she’d never told him just how desperately she loved him? What if she’d wasted precious time while trying to declare her independence? Would it be worth it?

  Maybe, she told herself as she sat huddled in a blanket on the sofa waiting for him, maybe when something was so clearly right, only a fool would take a chance on throwing it away.

  When the clock ticked on slowly and still Justin hadn’t returned, Patsy could no longer sit still. Despite his earlier claims that there was no food in the place, she went into the kitchen in search of something to eat.

  When that proved fruitless, she went back to the bedroom and began straightening up. It didn’t take long. Justin was invariably neat. Only the clothes they’d worn earlier were scattered about. Her negligee and raincoat seemed ludicrous now, when she’d been reduced to wearing one of his shirts. Why hadn’t she at least tucked an overnight bag with a change of clothes into the back of the car? Had she planned on leaving here in broad daylight wearing virtually nothing? The truth was, she hadn’t thought about leaving at all, only about getting here and stunning him speechless.

  She picked up his slacks and when she did, something dropped out of the pocket, then rolled under the bed. She scrambled after it. When her hand closed around it, she realized it was a small velvet box. Her heart stood still.

  She rocked back on her heels and stared at
the red velvet in wonder. This was what he’d had in mind for tonight, she realized. A romantic dinner and then this. With fingers that trembled, she flipped open the lid and gazed at a stunning solitaire diamond on a wide gold band. Even though the stone was large, there was nothing ostentatious about it. It was elegant and simple, a declaration not just of love, but of understanding.

  “He knew,” she murmured as tears began to build. He had understood that all of Will’s gestures had been for show—the gaudiest diamond, fanciest car, biggest house. This ring just said that Justin Adams loved her and nothing more.

  “Oh, Justin,” she whispered, her throat tight.

  What if she never got to say yes? What if the divorce dragged on, for some reason? What if...? She couldn’t bear to say it, not even to think it. Instead, she slid the ring onto her finger. Somehow, she thought, somehow he would know her answer, no matter what. When the decree was final—when Justin was safe—they would start to plan their future.

  It was nearly daybreak when she heard the front door open, then close quietly. In a heartbeat, she was on her feet and racing toward the living room. She skidded to a stop at the sight of him. He looked as if he’d been mauled by a particularly cantankerous bull. There were cuts and gashes and dirt. His uniform was in tatters, but he was alive, she told herself. He was blessedly alive.

  He glanced up and saw her then and the exhaustion vanished. His eyes lit up.

  Patsy moved toward him, then hesitated, all too aware of the state he was in. “How badly are you hurt?”

  “Just a few bumps and bruises. The guy took exception to being arrested. I had to chase him down and wrestle around with him near a barbed wire fence. The fence won.”

  “And you? Did you get your man?”

  “Of course,” he said, his expression smug. “The good guys always win.” He reached for her gingerly, then searched her face. “Don’t they?”

  “Depends on what they’re after, I suppose.”

  “You know what I’m after,” he said. “Are you ready for me to spell it out?”