Her Big Sky Cowboy

by Alissa Callen

  “There’s something special about newborns,” she said, voice gentle as the foal took a small step forward. Comet nickered softly.

  “There is.”

  Neither of them spoke while Zane finished his bagel. He took a swallow of coffee and then broke the companionable silence.

  “Thanks. I feel human again. Thanks too for keeping me company last night.”

  “You’re welcome. Not that I stayed long.”

  Trinity watched as the fragile foal took another step.

  Zane scraped a hand across his chin. “I’m sorry … if I upset you by talking about your family.”

  She sighed and drew her knees to her chest to wrap her arms around her legs. So Zane hadn’t missed her hasty exit.

  “It’s fine. Really. I was tired and talking about my family only makes me … frustrated.” She darted him a quick glance. His attention was centered on her and not on the foal slowly making her way to her mother. “I really shouldn’t let them get to me, just like I really shouldn’t complain.”

  “Families can be … complex.”

  “You can say that again, especially if you’re the first born daughter. In the Redfern family women aren’t supposed to have an opinion or to want to do anything other than support their husbands’ business careers.”

  “Where as you have always wanted to be a speech therapist and help kids?”

  “Exactly. So I came to Marietta to start a new life and to do just that. I also have wanted to choose my own path when it came to … men.”

  Zane’s eyes narrowed. “But your family has other ideas.”

  “More like my father. His business partner has a son who he considers the perfect son-in-law. Dexter is driven, opinionated and doesn’t like to fail.” She sighed. “I made the mistake of placating my father by going on a few dates with him. I don’t know how, as all we did was argue, but Dexter became convinced I’d make the ideal wife for an up-and-coming CEO.”

  Zane’s eyes smiled. “I can see you ordering ice sculptures and making cucumber sandwiches.”

  Her own lips curved. “I know. It’s so me. I’m also such an expert at meaningless small talk.” Her mirth ebbed. “So Dexter regularly sent me roses to remind me he wouldn’t be giving up. Much to my father’s approval, I was one of Dexter’s goals on his two-year plan.”

  “The man needs to get a life.”

  “He does. I’m sure if he worked less and socialized more he’d meet someone perfect for him.” She paused to watch as the filly took her first drink from her mother. “But after the last lot of roses, I’d had enough. I told Dexter and Dad to back off. My red rose receiving days might be over but now I have to hope that by next Christmas my father will be talking to me again.”

  *

  Zane slowed the pickup as he drove alongside the creek that wound its way through the ranch. If he didn’t watch his speed he’d end up swimming with the trout. There was no cause for alarm because Trinity and Finn hadn’t returned from their morning ride. Even though so far there’d been no sign of them, they would be fine. He had no doubt level-headed Trinity could take care of herself as well as his son.

  He rubbed at his tired eyes. He may have slept last night but the previous night of no sleep continued to sap his energy. Of course, it hadn’t helped waking early this morning with thoughts of Trinity on his mind. Was it any wonder Dexter, whatever his misguided motives, had sent red roses and pursued her? A woman like Trinity only came along once in a lifetime.

  His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. But she no more belonged in the city than he did. He’d seen her expression when she gazed out the kitchen window at the valley view and seen how she lifted her face to the breeze flowing from the high-country peaks. She loved the mountains. Her place wasn’t at the side of some suited-up wannabe CEO. Such a man wouldn’t appreciate her strength or her passion to help others. Her place was –

  He slammed on the brakes as two white-tailed deer bolted across the track ahead. He’d been so intent on his thoughts he hadn’t paid the usual attention to his surroundings. After the deer disappeared into the treeline, he muttered a curse and pressed his foot on the gas pedal. He was so preoccupied he could have driven past Trinity and Finn and not even noticed. He needed to focus or he really would end up in the water.

  The track followed a bend in the creek and as he rounded the corner he caught movement in the shade of a fir tree. Toffee’s dark tail swished as she and Sonny dozed. Beside them on a rock shelf rested their saddle blankets, saddles and an open saddle bag. Relief rushed through him. No wonder Trinity and Finn hadn’t returned, they’d be swimming or looking for bugs.

  He stopped the pickup and walked through the green grass toward the creek. On the pebbled bank Finn’s small cowboy boots sat paired next to Trinity’s cowgirl ones. Their jeans sat folded in a neat pile.

  Finn’s laughter carried to him and he headed downstream to where red dogwood and willows congregated at the water’s edge. He caught sight of Finn crouched on a rock in the middle of the creek, his hands in the water. Trinity walked out along a fallen tree and took a large step to reach Finn’s rock. Her long hair lay in damp and heavy ringlets around her shoulders. An oversize white shirt brushed her bare and tanned thighs. Patches of the fabric remained wet and beneath the transparent cotton he glimpsed a red and white striped bikini.

  Zane scrubbed a hand over his face. Not crossing the friendship line would be mission impossible. How could he keep his hands off a woman who took his breath way? A woman whose beauty went far beyond her curves and smile. A woman who made a motherless boy laugh and a reclusive rancher yearn for something he could never have.

  He now knew Finn and Trinity were okay. He should leave before his self-control would be pushed to its limits. But as he took a step back, Finn looked up.

  “Dad.”

  His happy cry caused a kingfisher in a nearby pine tree to startle and fly away.

  Finn gestured for him to come and join them. Trinity also stood and too waved for him to come across onto the rock. He hesitated and then shucked off his boots and socks and followed Trinity’s route across the tree. When he got to the edge of the fallen pine, he sized up the rock Finn and Trinity shared. It would be a tight squeeze.

  As if sensing his thoughts, Trinity moved to the edge to make room for him. He stepped off the log and onto the granite. The small surface area gave him no choice but to loop his right arm around Trinity’s waist. It was either that or push her off with his shoulder. She stiffened but then wrapped her arm around his waist to retain her balance.

  “What have you found, Finn? A water bug?”

  He prayed his words didn’t reveal the strain of appearing normal while holding Trinity. Beneath his palm, he could feel the delicate jut of her hip bone. Every breath he took filled his lungs with the floral scent of her hair. Through his shirt the heat from her touch burned as her hand lay flat against his back.

  “No. A fish.”

  “Big or little?” Zane didn’t bend to look at whatever fish Finn had found. The simple action would unbalance him and Trinity and send them into the water.

  “Big.”

  Trinity laughed. “Is there any other type of fish?”

  Finn flashed them both a smile and came to his feet. Zane tightened his grip on Trinity as they leaned back to give Finn room. She swayed and her other hand settled on his chest.

  He clenched his jaw. Her even breathing might suggest she was fine with their bodies meeting from shoulder to thigh. He wasn’t. His control was taking a hammering. Even knowing he couldn’t cross the friendship line, it was only Finn being beside them that stopped him from turning his head and seeking Trinity’s mouth.

  Finn leaped onto the fallen tree, his back to them as he scrambled along the log. For a heartbeat Zane’s head dipped toward Trinity’s. But then the rapid pulse at the base of her throat brought him to his senses. She wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared. She too felt the pull between them. Instead of encouraging him, the kno
wledge provided a swift reality check. His gut told him once he had her warm and willing in his arms, the line he wasn’t supposed to cross would be long gone. He also could then never go back.

  His arm dropped from around her waist. She remained statue-still. Then as if realizing he no longer held her, she turned to step onto the log before he could gauge her expression.

  Zane dragged in a deep breath and followed. That had been way too close.

  By the time he reached the creek bank, Trinity had made it to where her boots sat and had pulled on her jeans. Finn was midway between them, leaning over a small log and watching a bug crawl toward the water. The five-year-old was in no hurry to leave. Zane scooped up his boots and walked bare footed along the bank to Finn.

  “Cookie has sent brownies and lemonade if you want something to eat before riding home?”

  Finn stood, insect forgotten. “Yep.”

  Zane grinned through his tension. When it came to Cookie’s brownies Finn didn’t ever say no.

  Together they walked to the pickup. Zane unloaded a picnic basket. Cookie had also packed ham and cheese sandwiches.

  With her boots on, and white shirt hanging over her jeans, Trinity carried Finn’s small boots to where the picnic basket rested in the shade. Zane shook out a yellow plaid rug and spread it beside the wicker basket.

  Trinity’s serious green eyes met his. “Sorry you had to come and find us, let alone bring lunch. We both lost track of time.”

  He smiled, needing to show her, and himself, that while he might have been a whisker away from kissing her, the moment of madness had passed. For Finn’s sake there couldn’t be any awkwardness between them.

  “It’s fine. Cookie said you would have taken snacks but thought they’d be eaten by now.”

  Her lips curved. “Yes. They are.” She ruffled Finn’s tousled dark hair. “Not mentioning anyone’s name but someone ate all the cookies and the last apple.”

  Together they set about unpacking the picnic basket. Soon both sandwiches and brownies had disappeared. Zane removed his hat, lay back on his side of the blanket and closed his eyes. Between the day’s warmth, lack of sleep and lunch, he needed a five-minute siesta.

  He heard soft talking beside him and Trinity’s words, “Okay, ten more minutes. We’ll let your dad sleep and then we’ll head home. Cricket will have driven Cookie mad by now.”

  Rustling sounded as she replaced items in the basket and then her boots on stones as she too headed to the creek.

  Zane allowed the tension to drain from his muscles. A breeze skipped over his bare feet, water gurgled to his left and upstream sandpipers chattered. It might have been touch and go for a minute on the rock, but he was still on the right side of the friendship line. Knowing Trinity would kiss him back was even more of a reason to now stay there. One kiss would never be enough.

  As if from a long distance away, he registered the gentle touch of her hand on his forearm and her soft words, “Zane, it’s been ten minutes. Finn and I are saddling up and riding home.”

  But as he hovered between sleep and wakefulness, he dreamt she’d leaned over, her hair brushed his chest, and she kissed him.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  “I know you want to stay and play,” Trinity said to the puppy squirming in her arms. “But Finn’s having an afternoon nap.”

  She headed out the kitchen door to let Cricket run amuck in the back yard. Thankfully he wasn’t big enough to jump into the wheelbarrow where the flower seeds she and Finn had planted were now germinating. The moist soil would be perfect for an active puppy to dig in. Soon the green shoots would bloom into wildflowers that would attract butterflies. She was determined to fill the ranch house with color and life and to turn it into a real home for Finn.

  She placed Cricket on the grass and rolled a tennis ball toward the sandbox. He scampered after the ball, but instead of carrying it back to her, flopped to the ground and attempted to fit it into his small mouth. She smiled. Next trip to Marietta she’d buy Finn more tennis balls. He’d need them.

  She retraced her steps. The hum of conversation sounded from her left and at the kitchen door she stopped and looked toward the bunkhouse. A group of cowboys stood talking. Dressed in hats, chaps and boots they appeared indistinguishable but she had no trouble identifying Zane. The angle of his head, the width of his shoulders and the deference of the other cowboys all marked him as their boss and a man to be respected.

  Warmth crept from her throat into her cheeks as she entered the kitchen. She was just another member of the Zane Nash fan club.

  When he’d anchored her to him to stop her falling from the rock, her common sense had deserted her. Even when he no longer held her, she’d remained close and practically begged him to kiss her. Her attraction toward him couldn’t have been more obvious than if she’d grabbed his shirt, hauled him against her and touched her mouth to his.

  She collected the drawings on the kitchen table, which Finn had sketched before going upstairs to sleep. She sat the pictures on the bench and stared unseeingly through the oversize window at the green and rolling valley.

  For a heady moment she was sure Zane would kiss her. Then shutters had descended over his dark eyes. She’d taken his cue, as he’d unpacked the picnic basket, to keep things casual between them. Finn would sense any tension or awkwardness between them.

  She turned away from the window. So for Finn’s sake she’d act no differently around Zane. The trouble was after her response to him at the creek there was no way she could follow through on her plan to treat him as a friend.

  Not only was she attracted to him, the more facets she uncovered, the more he intrigued her. She’d also revealed personal information, something she usually didn’t do. She normally was the person listening, not doing the talking, especially about her difficult family. She’d made a point to keep her city and Marietta lives separate, even from Ivy.

  So here she was back to feeling out of control. Zane might not be Mr. Right but what she felt for him wasn’t any platonic friendship.

  Boots rang on the hallway floorboards outside the kitchen door and she reached into the cupboard for a mug. The flutter in her stomach told her she’d need something to do when Zane entered.

  She took her time turning away from the cupboard. Zane stood behind her. Dust-covered and with his strong arms folded, he looked every inch the working cowboy. Eyes guarded, he glanced at the empty kitchen table.

  “Finn asleep?”

  “Like a log. Even Cricket pulling off the bed covers couldn’t wake him.”

  Zane’s mouth curved. “I’m riding out to check the spring so wanted to see if you and Finn would like to come too?” He paused, gaze fathomless. “With Finn asleep you could still ride out with me? Toffee could do with the exercise and Cookie could keep an eye on Finn and Cricket.”

  Trinity sat her empty mug on the granite-topped bench before her. Her mind shouted ‘no’ but her hormones hollered ‘yes.’

  “Are you riding Diablo?”

  He rolled his shoulder. “No. Let’s just say, I’m still recovering from our last ride.”

  “In that case Toffee and I would love to come. I don’t know what Diablo said to her the other day but she’s given him the evil eye ever since.”

  Zane chuckled and unfolded his arms. “Toffee’s just putting Diablo in his place. She won’t have to worry about Apollo bossing her around. He’s young and will be a little flighty but it will do him good to ride with another horse.” Zane’s eyes swept over her mint green polka dot sundress. His gaze stalled at the dip in the sweetheart neckline. “If you like I’ll get Toffee saddled while you change?”

  “Thanks.”

  She headed for the doorway before he could catch the breathlessness in her voice. There was no sane reason why she would respond to Zane’s intent look as though it were a caress.

  *

  Dressed in jeans, boots and a cool, blue western shirt, Trinity waited outside Comet’s stall as Zane talke
d with Hank. The pally filly barely resembled the unsteady newborn she’d first seen. Her creamy coat was soft and fluffy and she cavorted around the large stable as if she’d been walking for weeks not days. Trinity grinned as the filly kicked up her tiny back hooves.

  Zane came to stand beside her. The hairs on her nape lifted as his husky chuckle washed over her.

  “Venus has been doing that all morning. She’s a great little time waster.”

  “She sure is. Venus … that’s a nice name. I like it.”

  “Try telling that to Finn. He wanted to call her Bug.”

  Trinity laughed. “Why does that not surprise me? Bug does go really well with Cricket.”

  Zane looked through the stable door at the clouds that feathered across the sky. “We’d better get going before the wind picks up.”

  Trinity followed Zane out to where Toffee and Apollo stood at the hitching rail, relaxed and with their heads lowered. In contrast Diablo paced in his corral, sunlight glancing off his golden coat.

  “I think Diablo is feeling left out,” she said, as she looped Toffee’s reins over her head.

  The corner of Zane’s mouth lifted as he swung into Apollo’s saddle. “You’re welcome to ride him.”

  It was hard not to be impressed by Zane’s grace and skill as the young gelding fussed. A lifetime on horseback showed in every calm and relaxed line. He barely seemed to move in the saddle as Apollo walked sideways.

  Trinity swung into Toffee’s saddle. “I wouldn’t want to ride Diablo and show you how it’s done.”

  “I have no doubt you’d show me how it’s done.”

  Zane’s white grin caused her stomach to flip-flop and her self-preservation to panic. No matter what her hormones thought, riding out alone with him wasn’t a good idea. Her self-control lay in pieces and she only had what was left of her scattered wits to ensure she didn’t act on their mutual attraction.

  *

  Zane halted Apollo and nodded toward the horses that grazed in clusters beyond the distant fence line. “Next week we’ll move this mare band to another pasture. Maybe you and Finn could help?”