Home on the Ranch: Colorado Cowboy

by Patricia Potter

  She shrugged. “I think I’m running on adrenaline now.”

  He looked at his watch. It was nearly nine and he had no idea when she’d left her house this morning except he knew it was before 7:00 a.m. “I should get back to the inn. I want to read the notes Travis made during his scouting trip.”

  “I’ll drive you,” she said. “I think most of the volunteers are leaving now. It’s been a long day for our vets and I imagine they would like some time to unwind.”

  He agreed. They’d had a lot thrown at them today. He suspected they needed some time to talk among themselves.

  “Should I look after Cajun?” he asked, recalling the rule about taking care of one’s horse.

  “No. This was a one ride thing. Danny will feed the horses that weren’t selected by the vets and put them out to the pasture.”

  “I’ll tell Jubal we’re leaving,” he said, “and pick up the research material.”

  She nodded. “You’ll be one of the few guests at the inn and we’re cutting back on staff. Can you do with less service?”

  “Since it’s free, I think I can manage.”

  “Not exactly free since you’re working for it,” she reminded him. “I’ll take Hobo and meet you at the Jeep.”

  He found Jubal and walked with him to get the book he’d mentioned along with information about each of the vets. “I thought I would take the vets on a sunrise run,” he said. “It will give me an idea of their fitness if they participate and their lack of drive if they don’t.”

  “Sounds good,” Jubal responded. “I might join you.”

  “Probably better if you don’t. I want them relaxed. If you come, they would want to try to outrun a Navy SEAL. Maybe later.”

  Jubal nodded. “I get that.” He changed the subject. “How do you like the inn?”

  “In all of the ten minutes I spent in the room, it looks great.”

  “Need a ride back?”

  “Susan offered to drive me.”

  An odd expression flashed across Jubal’s face.

  Ross didn’t know him well enough to read it, but it renewed some suspicions he had.

  Ross took the material and headed for the parking area. They—the whole contriving group—were wrong if they thought he was joining their ranks. He could smell a setup a mile away. He had his own goals.

  He’d planned out the lifestyle he wanted since the day he left the army. A small town in the middle of nowhere sure as hell wasn’t included.

  Chapter 8

  Susan was only too aware of the man sitting next to her as she drove. He smelled like horse but so did she. She liked it. Preferred it, in fact, to most aftershave lotions and perfumes.

  She hadn’t known what to think when she first saw him.

  Today she’d seen the power of his smile and his ability to bond with people. Whether it was young Danny or an awkward, uncertain veteran who’d gone through hell, he’d made them feel comfortable and like the most important person around.

  Despite his efforts to pawn little Hobo off on someone else, he handled him with gentleness. It had made her heart jump a bit to see such a large man be so gentle with a homely, wounded animal. She understood now why the dog trusted him.

  “You’re being quiet,” he said.

  “I’m winding down,” she said. She paused, then asked, “What do you think?”

  “Of the program?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s still a work in progress,” he said. “Both Josh and Jubal know it. They’re open to ideas. I like the fact there’s enough volunteers to give each of the participants confidence and support. I would like to see more psychiatric input and ongoing physical therapy. But that’s the ideal.

  “I’m starting a mile run every morning at sunrise,” he continued. “It’s voluntary. Any ideas about a route?”

  “Just turn left when you leave the gate,” she replied. “There’s just a few ranches on that end of the road, and very little traffic. It sounds like a great idea.”

  “I’m hoping all of them will eventually join me and by the end of the program it’ll be an ingrained part of their life.”

  “Can I join it?” she asked.

  “I expect you would be an added incentive. I might even have full participation on the first try.”

  She shook her head in denial.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t notice the way they all seek your approval?”

  “I don’t think...”

  He sought a new topic. “Have you always lived here?”

  “No,” she said.

  There was a pause, then he asked the question she didn’t want to answer. “Where else?”

  “I was in Las Vegas for several years”

  “That’s about as far from here as you could get,” he observed, “and I don’t mean in miles.”

  “I worked for a hotel there,” she said. “And,” she added almost defiantly, “I was married and divorced there.” She might as well get that out now. Everyone in town knew it, which meant he would probably hear it. Why would it matter anyway? He was only going to be here thirteen more days, but who was counting?

  “Somehow I can’t picture you in that atmosphere.”

  “Neither can I. Now. It’s a long sad story for another time,” she said as she drove up to the inn. “Is there anything we—the inn—can do for you since you were treated so poorly last night?”

  “I don’t think I was treated badly, especially since I didn’t warn you I would be late,” he said. “But there is something you can do.”

  “Name it.”

  “A pillowcase.”

  “A pillowcase?” she asked with a puzzled look. “They’re on the bed.”

  “A spare one,” he explained. “One you don’t need back so I can make it into a sling.”

  “For Hobo?” she guessed.

  “Until I find him a proper home,” he explained. “I don’t want to leave him in the room alone, and I don’t want to ride my bike onto the ranch and scare the horses. Nor do I want you to have to ferry us back and forth. I plan to make a sling for Hobo and run over there. It’s not much over two miles.”

  “And then you want to run another mile and back with our vets?”

  “I enjoy running,” he explained, “particularly in the morning. It’s a routine with me.”

  “And you create slings, as well. A man of many talents.”

  “I was a medic. You would be surprised at the creativity that’s required.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll bring a pillowcase. Anything else? Scissors? Thread? Needle?”

  “Nope. That will do it.”

  Susan parked the Jeep. The parking lot looked lonely tonight after weeks of being full. Only five other cars were there. She reached in the backseat and handed him a package. “A gift for Hobo. He had excellent behavior today.”

  He started for his wallet in his jeans. “You said twenty-seven dollars.”

  “I changed my mind. I’m gifting him, not you.”

  “Well, maybe in the next few days he’ll gift you.”

  She frowned at him. “He’ll do no such thing.”

  They went into the front entrance together, then he and Hobo peeled off to the left to his room and she went to the desk.

  Janet, a widow and part-timer, was on desk duty on Sunday evening, usually the slowest time. She would stay at the desk until the last guest came in and retired. Then she was free to use the room behind the reception area. There was a comfortable cot and a restroom and, on a slow night, the night clerk was permitted to nap. There was a bell on the front desk for guest requests.

  Janet was reading a romance as she usually did when holding down the fort. “A couple came in several hours ago. A walk-in. They’re taking a road trip and read about us in a tourist magazine. Then we have the two couples
who prolonged their stay to take the Jeep trip to the gold mine and stopped at the waterfall. They had dinner at Maude’s and are in for the night. They seemed happy. We have ten new reservations, seven for next weekend.”

  “All in one day?”

  “Yep. The phone’s been ringing.”

  “That’s great. Can you stay until ten tomorrow? Mark will take over then.”

  Sure.”

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate all of you putting in extra hours these past few weeks,” she said. “I know it’s been crazy busy.”

  “You don’t know how much we appreciate the jobs,” Janet replied. “Until the vets came, there wasn’t much here.”

  Susan nodded, then went into the linen room and selected a pillowcase along with some small bags from a box. She made a stop in the kitchen stockroom and grabbed a bottle of the red wine they offered guests in the afternoon. She took it all to Ross’s room.

  She knocked, and the door opened almost immediately. Ross had taken his T-shirt off and the visual was outstanding. She tried to take her gaze away from the finest chest she’d ever seen. Not overly muscled, just solid and brick hard and tanned and... She wondered for half a second how it would feel next to her.

  Dammit. Hadn’t she learned her lesson yet? She shoved the pillowcase and bottle of wine at him, then handed him some of the little bags. “For Hobo,” she said, hoping he didn’t need more explanation. “As for the wine, it’s for the room mix-up. I don’t know if you drink it but...”

  “I do,” he said, “and thank you. For that, for the ride, for your help today.”

  “Welcome to Covenant Falls,” she said. “Just let us know if you need anything. Good night. I hope you sleep well.” It sounded terribly formal. She felt like a total fool. She was thirty-six years old and she was probably blushing as if she’d never seen a man’s chest before.

  But, darn it, he was gorgeous. She could ignore that, but what was worse he seemed to be a really good guy. The combination was dangerous. She bit her lip. She hadn’t done that in years.

  “Will you have a glass of wine?” he asked. “I don’t like to drink by myself.”

  No. “Yes,” she said. She walked over to the window. The moon was a big round ball tonight. It seemed to be glowing just for her. But that was nonsense.

  As he joined her, she turned, took a half-full glass from him, then looked up into silver gray eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. A rush of heat ran through her body. She forced herself to take a step away. He’s leaving in less than two weeks. She kept telling herself that.

  That fact was both an enticement and a warning. The enticement was she wouldn’t get deeply involved in two weeks. The warning was maybe she would. She’d thought her ex-husband was a good guy. He’d been her mentor, her guide through the perilous journey of politics in a major hotel—until he wasn’t.

  Ross’s fingers touched her face and played along her cheekbones, stoking little fires that streaked through her body. The restrained caress was more sensual than demanding.

  An ache started deep inside her, a gnawing, needy ache. She knew she should move away. A relationship, any relationship, was too risky on several accounts. But the tenderness of his hand erased her instinct to flee.

  He pulled her toward him and their gazes met, questioned. A sizzling wave of heat ran through her as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers. They were tentative at first, searching, then his kiss grew in intensity. The core of her warmed, and she found herself craving more. She went up on tiptoe to better fit into his arms. Every nerve in her seemed to come alive.

  His lips caressed hers. They were searching at first, then more demanding. But even as she leaned into him, her body nestling against his, she kept finding reasons to pull back.

  He was a wanderer. He’d made that plain almost from the moment they had met. Could she risk falling in love? She wasn’t there yet but knew if this went further she could be. All too easily.

  From the beginning, there had been a connection that sizzled between them. It had, she realized, been building between them since they met last night. It strengthened with the easy companionship during their horseback ride together. There had been glances, quickly diverted.

  He leaned down and kissed her, then suddenly straightened, but his hand lingered on her face. “You’re one hell of a woman,” he said.

  She looked up at him, ran her fingers over the strong lines of his face. She thought of all his kindnesses. Under that fierce exterior and daunting size, there was a tender heart. She witnessed it many times today in small and big ways. The run tomorrow was just another example. By making it voluntary, he was giving the vets respect.

  Her heart pounded.

  “Ditto,” she said, “I mean if I substitute ‘you’ for ‘me,’ and ‘man’ for ‘woman’ and...”

  She stopped abruptly and analyzed what she’d just said. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, it does.” He leaned down and his lips trailed kisses down her face. Heat was growing between them again, their eyes locked on each other. “I would love to take you to bed,” he said, “but it’s too soon for that, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer. Her body was betraying her. Maybe she could steal a few days of pleasure. Except she’d never been able to do that. She’d been a virgin when she met her husband. And he’d been her only sexual partner. She wasn’t a prude. It was just that since that betrayal and her own bad judgment, she hadn’t cared enough about anyone to give away that part of her.

  Not until now. She thought of the moment she’d first seen him. Relaxed. Sitting alone in the library near midnight with several days of beard and a stained T-shirt. Even then, her heart had accelerated.

  His arms tightened around her. The hold was more gentle than lustful and yet she felt a certain tension in his body and knew it must be responding in the same way as her own. The heat that seared her everywhere their bodies touched must also burn him.

  His lips came down slowly to meet hers, skimming more than pressing as if posing their own question. She reached up and touched his face, tracing its strong angles and then her arms went up around his neck and she stretched up on her toes.

  Her body tingled in reaction to his. Tingled and ached. He leaned down and kissed her again, this time with exquisite tenderness.

  Then he pulled away. “You should go,” he said softly, “before we do something we both might regret.”

  She didn’t want to go. Her body ached with need for him but he was right. It was madness. She stepped back. Ross gave her a crooked grin as he released her. “You’re not sure, and I want you to be sure,” he said.

  She looked up at him and nodded.

  He touched her face again. “In the meantime,” he added, “Hobo and I thank you again for all the help today.”

  “I don’t think you needed any,” she said.

  “More than you know,” he replied.

  There was a strange note in his voice. But then he smiled again.

  “I’ll see you in the morning at the ranch,” she said awkwardly. “Don’t forget there’s breakfast in the lobby and don’t hesitate to call the front desk if you need anything.” Why did her usual spiel sound so forced?

  “I won’t,” he said. “Tell Vagabond I said hello.”

  “She’ll be thrilled,” Susan said with a sudden grin that broke some of the stiffness between them.

  She left on that note, knowing that the image of a shirtless Ross Taylor standing in the door was not going to be that easy to banish. She’d had precious little sleep in the past two days. She doubted whether she would get much tonight.

  * * *

  Ross stared at the closed door for several seconds.

  He liked her. A lot. Probably too much. She was an intriguing mixture of businesslike inn manager, sympathetic riding inst
ructor and apparent friend to everyone—as well as being a very attractive woman with a sense of humor.

  He didn’t like games, and she didn’t play any. What you saw was what you got. But he was definitely drawn to her, and she was not someone with whom he could have a mutually enjoyable fling. Something happened in Las Vegas. He’d watched her eyes cloud as she mentioned it. She’d been wounded and yet it didn’t seem to affect her obvious desire to cure the world, or as much of it as she could.

  Dammit, she touched him in ways no other woman did and, damn it, it happened so fast. He wanted her in the worst way but couldn’t force himself to push any more than he had.

  He swore as he gulped down his glass of wine and poured another. He would prefer a large swallow of bourbon but he would take whatever he could get at the moment.

  Small, throaty noises interrupted his discussion with himself.

  “Okay,” Ross said. “Food. I get it. You’re hungry. You don’t think I noticed some people slipping snacks to you?” He was pleased, though, that Hobo was demonstrating some initiative. Damn, he was talking to a dog as if it were human.

  He opened the bag Susan had given him. There were several cans of dog food, along with a can opener; two small bowls; a leash and a collar; as well as some dog treats.

  He opened a can of food and served it to Hobo, then took him outside with one of Susan’s little bags in his hand. By pure habit, he checked out the bike. All looked as it should.

  After a hot shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the floor-to-ceiling window.

  It was a great room with a good view. It directly faced the mountain, and the moon made its white cap glow.

  He retraced the day. He’d enjoyed it far more than he’d thought he would. Once he managed those first steps into the stables, he’d been able to ward off memories. Maybe it was Susan’s matter-of-fact efficiency, but perhaps these two weeks would be healing for himself as well as the vets.

  Then he skipped to the present and wondered what Susan meant when she’d referred to “magic in the mountains.”

  Hobo batted his leg with his paw and tried to climb up. Ross reached down and pulled him into his lap. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warned the dog. “This is a temporary gig. For both of us.”