The Cowboy's Wish (The Govain Cowboys Book 3)

by Janalyn Knight

  She grinned. "Oh, hell, yeah. It's all I've thought about since you invited me." That and you, sexy cowboy.

  "Me, too." He smiled, holding her gaze for a moment.

  They went their separate ways to the dressing rooms.

  She changed and grabbed a locker, then, towel over her shoulder and lotion in her hand, she exited the building into the scorching sun.

  Dylan waited for her, his gaze landing on the tube in her hand. "Need me to put lotion on your back?"

  His hands on her? Her pulse raced. Damn. "Sure. That'd be great." Handing it to him, she turned away. She wore a bright yellow bikini and had a lot of skin to cover. The sticky sound of his hands rubbing together came first, then his palms slid over her back, smoothing the lotion all the way down to her butt, where the top of her tiny bikini bottoms sat. She shivered. Having his hands on her was so delicious, so seductive, she wanted to purr.

  He ran his hands down her arms, wiping off the excess lotion. "That should do you."

  She sighed. "Thanks, Dylan. I can do the rest."

  He held her towel while she finished applying her lotion, then led her to a shady spot next to the rock ledge lining the sidewalk surrounding the pool. After dropping their towels, he grinned. "Come on. Let's get in."

  No life guards were on duty and guests swam at their own risk. Dylan slid in first and turned back, raising his hand to her. "Your turn. The water's great."

  Grinning, she sat down and hopped off the edge, plunging under water. When she came up, she brushed her hair back and reached for the concrete. "This feels amazing!"

  "I know, right? Why don't I come here more often? It's crazy to live so close and ignore it."

  The clear azure water of the spring was naturally cool in the heat of the summer day, yet she felt hot. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

  Dylan smiled. "I told you your suit would fit. You look beautiful, by the way."

  A flush of pleasure swept through her. "Thanks. I'm lucky it did. This is the only one I own." She sank under water again, needing to get away from the open desire in his intense brown eyes. She was totally unprepared for that.

  As she rose to the surface, he was a few feet away and stared at the far side of the water. Given that the pool was more like a small lake, that was quite a distance. She called, "Penny for your thoughts."

  He moved closer to her. "I was daydreaming. I haven't taken time off in so long. I mean, sure, I partied at school. But just relaxing? It's been a while. How about you?"

  Those eyes of his. They didn't miss a thing. His gaze traveled over her face, finally stopping at her lips. She said, "There's so damn much to do at the ranch, I work until late, and it still doesn't seem right calling it quits for the day. We need more help but I don't have the means to pay for it. With this drought we had problems, but at least we were making it before Dad's stroke. Now, we're dug so deep in a hole I don't see how we'll ever get out."

  Touching her arm, his eyes grew serious. "I can't stand to think of you under that kind of pressure, Lennie. I heard that in Texas you can send a letter to your debtors and tell them you'll pay them a small amount each month, every month, and they have to accept it. They can't file on you. You have an attorney, don't you?"

  She nodded.

  "Ask about that just to be sure. If it's true, write those letters and protect your credit. It may take twenty years to pay these people back, but you won't get collection letters, and you'll honor your debts."

  Hope surged inside her. Could this be true? Tomorrow was Monday. She'd call before she headed out on the ranch. If Dylan was right, God had answered her prayers. "Thanks. This could change everything. I'll check into it." Smiling, she leaned close and kissed his cheek.

  He slid his hands around her waist and held her, grinning. "Hey, I need to come up with some more ideas. I like my reward."

  Resting her hands on his shoulders, she kept some distance between them, but let him hold on to her. Pulse racing, she imagined what his mouth would feel like on hers.

  "Lennie?"

  "Hm?

  "Would you sock me if I kissed you?"

  She laughed and met his gaze.

  He grinned foolishly back at her.

  "I guess I can restrain myself, cowboy." Tilting her head, she opened her lips, her heart hammering her chest.

  Sliding his arms around her, he slowly lowered his mouth, gently caressing her lips with his, slipping inside, exploring her delicately before pulling away. As he looked into her eyes, his heart was wide open for her to see.

  Moved in a way she hadn't expected, she cupped his face and whispered. "I like you, Dylan Govain. I like you a bunch."

  He grinned and dragged her further out into the pool. "The feeling is mutual, Lennie. Believe me." A few minutes later he challenged her to a race.

  She was a good swimmer, but Dylan's long arms and strong strokes allowed him to quickly outdistance her. Dammit. She hated to lose any kind of competition.

  He looked around and saw he was ahead and slowed, turning on his back and waiting for her. "Come here, slowpoke." He opened his arms, expecting her to swim into them.

  She raised her brows. "Slowpoke? I'm a slowpoke now?" Pulling up beside him she shoved his arm away playfully. "Don't expect a reward for blowing me out of the water."

  He grinned. "Sorry, darlin', next time I'll let you win."

  She rolled her eyes. "That's worse."

  Holding out his hands, he said, "Hey, can I help it if I'm stronger, better, faster, smarter—"

  With both hands, she shoved a wave of water at him and grinned.

  When they'd turned into prunes, Dylan went to the truck and brought the picnic stuff to a table by the pool.

  She sat on the wooden bench, enjoying the shade of the big old oak trees overhead.

  He set out left-over fried chicken from the previous evening's dinner and a container of potato salad. For dessert they had fresh peaches. He popped the cap off a cold long-neck beer and handed it to her. "I'm starving."

  Picking up a chicken leg and taking a bite, she said, "Me, too. This is delicious. Your mom is a good cook."

  He smiled. "Actually, Annie made this. She's been our cook for ages—even before I was born. She's amazing."

  Lennie stared at her piece of chicken. Damn, she knew the Govains had money, but a cook? Shit, she was way out of her league. Her chest ached as she took another bite. How stupid she was to think this thing with Dylan could work. Sneaking around, him rich, her practically penniless. It was a fucked-up mess. When she finished with her chicken leg, she said, "I need to go," and stood.

  Eyes wide, Dylan said, "What? Why? I thought we'd head back to the pool."

  She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't. Look, I had a nice time, but this thing—us—it won't work."

  Dylan rushed around the table and clasped her arm. "Lennie, what's wrong? I don't understand."

  Her heart broke at the pain in his voice. He was such a sweet guy but, really, no way did they belong together. "I'm sorry, Dylan. You're great. It's just, we're too different. I can't do this. Please understand." Pulling away from his grip, she strode to the women's dressing room. Grabbing her stuff from the locker, and without bothering to change, she hurried to her truck. She wasn’t brave enough to look at the picnic tables, afraid she might see a heartbroken cowboy there.

  DYLAN DROVE HOME, HIS mind racing. What in the hell had gone wrong? One minute they were having a nice conversation, the next Lennie took off like a cat with her tail on fire. It made no sense. She’d said they were too different. What did she mean? He didn't feel different. The more he got to know Lennie, the closer he felt to her.

  He turned on the ranch drive and sped down the road, his frustration growing. Everything had been going so well. He needed to figure this out. Caleb knew women. He had a wife, after all. Maybe he could help Dylan understand what had happened. Eve might even be a good resource.

  Caleb set aside Sundays as a family day so Dylan was pretty sure his brother wou
ld be home. When Dylan walked in the front door, voices came from the family room, and he headed straight there.

  Caleb looked up from playing with Abi. "Hey, you're back kind of early, aren't you?"

  Dylan frowned. "Yep. Can I talk to you all?"

  Eve raised a brow. "Did something happen?"

  He gusted out a breath. "Yeah, and I'm not sure what." Eve and Caleb were seated on the wide leather couch, so Dylan sat in the chair opposite them and told them about his last conversation with Lennie. "She said something like we were too different and I tried to stop her but she got the hell out of there."

  Eve chewed her lip. "Oh," and glanced at Caleb.

  Dylan caught the look. "What?"

  "So, you told her we have a cook," Caleb prompted.

  "Yeah?"

  Eve cleared her throat. "Dylan, when I first met your brother, I was a little overwhelmed by this house—a nineteenth century mansion full of beautiful antiques—and the obvious wealth of your family. It sounds like Lennie just realized what your life is like."

  Caleb exhaled a long breath. "The Duncans have a much smaller place without the water resources we have. Their standard of living would necessarily be different than ours. She's compared the two and decided that you and she can't have a relationship. It's damned unfair. I'm sorry, Dylan."

  He rested his face in his hands. It was worse than he thought. Raising his head, he turned to Eve. "What can I do to change her mind?"

  "Did she appear to care for you before this happened?"

  "You bet."

  Eve smiled. "Then don't give up. Her pride is keeping her away. Find a way around that, and everything will be okay."

  Dylan grinned. "Thanks, Eve. You're just like having a big sister to talk to."

  She laughed. "Love you, baby brother."

  He strode from the room, already making plans. He'd find a way to help Lennie accept him along with his family's money.

  Chapter Four

  LENNIE LEANED HER HEAD back against the stall of the shower as the steaming hot water rolled down her breasts. Disappointment ran deep as her mind returned to her day spent with Dylan. He was sweet and such fun. Closing her eyes, she remembered his hands at her waist, the touch of his tongue twining with hers and his sensitive lips caressing her mouth. He had known how to draw out her feminine side in an instant.

  Thrusting away from the wall, she lathered her hair with shampoo. Daydreaming about Dylan Govain wouldn't get her anywhere. A cook? Seriously? They probably had a maid, too. Maybe even more than one. Their house was supposed to be huge. Being a Duncan, she'd never been over there, of course. God, she was an idiot.

  Now out of the shower, she rubbed the steam from the mirror and looked at herself. Wet, bedraggled hair, cheeks red from the heat of the room—this was probably what she'd looked like at the pool. The man needed his eyes checked. He could have any woman he wanted, and that had always been true.

  Later, she lay on her bed, the same one she'd slept in since she was a girl, and curled her arm behind her head. Her life lay long and hard ahead of her. Add lonely to it and the prospect was almost more than she could bear. Even if her father walked again, he'd never be what he was. That was a fact. Running the ranch was on her now.

  Dusty, her older brother, was deep in grad school on the East coast, working on his master’s, and then he would go for his PhD. He was more than a math whiz—he was phenomenal. He'd won every scholastic award imaginable in high school, graduated early, been given a full scholarship to university, and, she was sure, would stay back East after completing his education.

  It had always been her and Dad running the ranch. She'd loved feeding the orphaned baby calves their bottles when she was little, and she couldn't ever remember being afraid of cattle though they towered over her. She grew up taking on increasing responsibilities around the place. The strong bond she had with her father had always been a source of strength to her. Though the tough rancher seldom expressed his love, she felt it in his respect and his warm gaze after a particularly long day.

  She moaned quietly. How could she ever in a million years pay her father's medical bills? Abruptly, Dylan's suggestion came to her. Was that the answer? Oh, God, let it be true. Then it hit her. How did somebody like Dylan, with tons of money, know about that tidbit of information? His family certainly would never pay back debtors a tiny bit at a time. Had he researched that fact just for her? That was about the most depressing thought imaginable. It made him even sweeter, and even worse that she couldn't see him anymore. She groaned and dropped her arm over her face.

  She didn't have to open her eyes to know that not much in her room had changed since she was a kid. In fact, nothing in her house had changed in more decades than she could remember. Her home wasn't filled with beautiful antiques as she'd heard about the Govain’s place. This house was full of used-up old leather furniture and some cherished handmade pieces from her pioneer ancestors that were near and dear to her heart.

  The ranch house needed near-constant repair, as did the old barn. They had long needed to add a couple more windmills to water the herds but the money to do so had never materialized. Some disaster always sucked her cash reserve dry. The hunting cabins hadn't been updated since God knows when. Thank goodness they could count on their regulars for most of their bookings—hunters who had been coming each deer or antelope season for years. If only she could afford to advertise. There was more she could squeeze out of hunting, she was sure.

  Sighing, she pressed her eyes shut and threw herself on her side, determined to get the horrible financial state of the ranch off her mind so she could fall asleep. Bam! Dylan's face hit her front and center again. Holy shit. This night was headed for hell.

  THE NEXT MORNING, EYES raw and red from lack of sleep, Lennie planted a kiss on her father's weathered cheek as he sat in his wheelchair at the breakfast table.

  He sighed and squeezed her shoulder with his good hand.

  Her mother, looking worn out and thin, said, "Sit down, honey. We're having waffles."

  Lennie walked over to the counter where her mother stood tending the steaming waffle iron and gave her a hug. "Momma, you make the best waffles in the world." In testament to that fact Lennie's tummy gave a loud rumble.

  Her mother laughed at the sound and lifted the lid. "You need breakfast. You work too damned hard on this place. Bacon's already on the table, sweetheart. This one's yours. I'll bring it over."

  Lennie sat down across from her father.

  He said, "Wha...rgh!" Slamming his fist on the table, the side of his face that could still express emotion knotted in anger. Unfortunately, the stroke had affected his right side, the hand he wrote with, so he couldn't even communicate with notes.

  Figuring he wanted to know her agenda for the day, she said, "Hey, Dad, I'm going to make a run to the south pastures to look at the herds. It's been a couple of weeks since I was out that way. The farrier's coming today to shoe the horses. Several of them are getting pretty long in the toe. And Randy's making a feed run." Grinning at her father, hoping to wipe the frustration from his face, she said, "It's damn sure nice to be the boss. I don't have to unload feed today. Todd’s here."

  Her dad huffed, but rewarded her with a faint, crooked smile.

  Adding syrup to the hot waffle her mother had plopped on her plate, she sighed. It broke her heart to watch her dad struggle like this. Fighting back tears had become an unwelcome habit and her father wasn't improving. Knowing he was gut-sick at his lack of progress; she didn't know how to encourage him. Empty reassurances would only make him furious.

  She lifted a syrup-slathered bite and paused, looking at her father. "I love you, Dad, and I can't wait until you're in that truck beside me again."

  The part of his mouth that could, tightened, and he nodded.

  LENNIE SLOWED THE TRUCK as she approached the second herd in the south pasture. The bull, head up and nostrils flared, stared intently at her. Rolling to a quiet stop, she scanned the herd slowly, count
ing the milling cows and calves.

  She got out of the truck and dragged a bag of feed from the back. The tearing sound as she pulled the tab from the top brought the cattle at a jog. Dumping cow cubes in small piles about ten feet apart, she emptied that sack and opened another. Soon the herd was munching happily, and she strode among them, taking a closer look for abscesses and cuts and scrapes. Were they well fleshed? Losing weight?

  At last she smiled. Her luck was holding. This group of cattle looked as healthy as the previous herd, and all were accounted for. Leaving them to their treat, she climbed in the truck and headed back to the barn.

  With a twenty-minute drive on her hands, her mind returned to Dylan. A chunk blew out of her happy mood. Honestly, maybe for her, being with any man was a mistake. Her thoughts bounced to Nic, the guy she'd fallen in love with in college. Her sophomore and junior years they'd been inseparable, practically living at each other's places. But something happened she would never understand. Nic had said he'd fallen out of love with her their senior year. She'd loved him like she loved her mom and dad, like she loved her brother. Like a forever kind of love. And he fell out of love with her? How could he do that?

  She hadn't dated since. Except Balmorhea ... and Dylan. That had been a big mistake, too. She imagined his fine home, his cook and maid and then envisioned him coming to her house and his reaction to the many rooms of unplanned additions slapped onto the old ramshackle ranch house. She sucked in her lip at the painful thought. It was almost funny. Never had she worried about her home's appearance. Now, thanks to a Govain, she saw the flaws, the worn-out near-poverty of the place. How had she not seen it before?

  Heart aching, she faced the truth. No matter how much she liked Dylan, or how he made her body want him, he wasn't the man for her. He and his money and his big ranch—they were out of her league.

  DYLAN'S EYES OPENED as the first light of dawn shone through his bedroom window. Today Lennie would pick up her bull, and a lot rode on his words to her. He'd gone over what to say these past few days and still wasn't sure if she would accept them. Lennie, like all the Duncans, had a strong sense of pride and reaching beyond that, making a connection, wouldn't be easy.