His Forever Texas Rose

by Stella Bagwell

  Minutes later, she was walking to her car when her cell phone rang, and thinking it could possibly be Trey, she paused to dig the phone from her purse.

  The moment she spotted her mother’s number on the caller ID, she promptly dropped it back into the side pocket inside her purse and walked on to the car. She wasn’t going to deal with her mother’s emotional edicts tonight. Instead, she was going to enjoy Trey’s company and hope that he enjoyed hers.

  * * *

  Did women prefer striped shirts or plaid? Or would he make a better impression if he wore a solid color, like light blue or gray? Trey considered calling his grandmother for advice on the matter, but then he’d have to explain that he was going out to dinner with the new receptionist, and then she’d really dig into him. Trey wasn’t ready for that. No more than he’d been ready to hear Harley wanted to marry Virgie.

  Damned man, who did Harley think he was? And why hadn’t his grandmother turned him down flat?

  Because she’s lonely, Trey. Because she might need to feel a man’s loving arms around her. Because she needs something more in life than waiting on diners in a dusty café. Just like you need more than treating a sick cow or horse and coming home to an empty house.

  Frowning, he poured aftershave into the palm of his hand and slapped both cheeks in hopes of slapping away the taunting voice going off in his head. He didn’t want to hear that kind of nonsense tonight. For the first time in his life, a woman had asked him out. And not just any woman. She was educated and pretty and had real manners. She wasn’t the type who swigged down half a beer and then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. No, Nicole was a lady. A real Texas rose. And he wanted to enjoy tonight. Because he was pretty damned sure it would be the first and last time that he’d get to go out with her.

  After slipping on a blue-and-white paisley Western shirt and tucking the tails inside his jeans, he turned out the light in the bathroom and walked to the living room. Earlier this evening, after he’d arrived home from work, he’d hurriedly tried to pick up the worst of the clutter. Even so, dust was everywhere and the floor needed to be swept and mopped, but most nights Trey did well to find time to eat and sleep, much less do housekeeping chores.

  He was trying to brush some of the grime from the brim of his brown cowboy hat when he heard a car pull to a stop behind his truck.

  As Trey walked outside to greet her, the last of the day’s sunlight was rapidly sliding behind the hills to the west of his house, sending wide swaths of shadows across the porch and the small front yard cordoned off by a fence of cedar post and barbed wire.

  She’d nearly reached the yard gate when she gave him a cheery wave. “Hi! I found your place with no problem at all.”

  “I’d like to say it was my good directions that got you here without a snag, but I’m betting it was your navigating skills.”

  She laughed. “Oh, if you only knew how easily I get lost. I’m still having trouble remembering the route from my house to Conchita’s coffee shop. And that’s only a few streets away!”

  As she stood beside him at the gate, it was all Trey could do not to gape at her. She was so pretty and soft, and the smile on her face made him feel a whole foot taller than his six feet and three inches.

  “That’s only because you’re new around here. After a bit you’ll remember the layout.” He gestured to the front of the house. “Would you like to go in? Except for getting my keys and wallet, I’m ready.”

  “I’d love to go in.” She casually wrapped her arm around his, and they walked along the row of stepping-stones that led up to the porch. “But you really don’t need to bother about your wallet or keys. I’m going to drive and I’ll be paying for dinner, too.”

  Trey very nearly stumbled. “Uh—that’s not the cowboy way,” he told her. “We buy a lady’s dinner.”

  She slanted him a cheeky smile. “Well, that’s not the Nicci Nelson way. I invited you tonight, so I’ll get the bill. You can take care of the next one.”

  He came close to stumbling a second time. The next one? That had to be a figure of speech, he thought. There wouldn’t be a second time. Not with him and her. After tonight she’d have more than her fill of Hayseed Trey.

  “Uh—I guess—well, Granny always taught me to never argue with a lady, so I won’t.”

  He glanced over to see her smile had turned soft, and Trey suddenly wondered if it was possible for a man to continue to walk upright after his bones melted. He was still standing and moving one foot in front of the other, but as they climbed the steps and crossed the porch, he didn’t feel anywhere close to normal. In fact, he hadn’t felt this shaky or breathless since a bull had rammed a horn into his rib cage and punctured a lung.

  “Good,” she said. “Your grandmother sounds like a woman I’d like to know. Does she live close by?”

  “Not really. She lives near Aguila. About twenty-five miles west of here.”

  He pushed open the door, and after motioning for her to precede him, he followed her inside. “It probably feels hot in here,” he said. “Since I knew I’d be leaving, I didn’t bother turning on the air conditioner.”

  She shook her head. “It feels fine. Actually, I’m learning how quickly it cools out here in Arizona after the sun goes down. In another hour’s time I’ll probably need a sweater.”

  Trey hoped not. The dress she was wearing exposed her bare creamy shoulders, toned arms and a hint of cleavage above the V neckline. Covering up all that beauty would be an awful shame, he thought.

  “I’ll get my things from the bedroom,” he told her and gestured toward a couch and two armchairs grouped in a U shape in the middle of the room. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks,” she told him as she sank gracefully into one of the armchairs. “And take your time. There’s no hurry. Unless you have to be up early to work in the morning. I didn’t schedule anything early for you and Chandler, but I’m learning that he agrees to jobs on his own and forgets to tell me to put them down on the appointment book.”

  Trey chuckled. “That’s Doc. But no, for the first Saturday in a long while, we’re not making a house call, or opening the clinic for a special reason. It’s foaling time at Three Rivers Ranch, and Holt needs him.”

  He fetched the keys and wallet from the bedroom and returned to the living room. The moment she heard his footsteps on the wooden floor, she looked around and smiled at him.

  “I was just thinking you have a nice place here. Have you lived here long?”

  “About nine years. It’s an old house, but it’s solid.” He made a circular gesture with his hand. “I hope you’ll overlook the messiness. I’m not much on house cleaning. And I—well, I hardly ever have company. Unless it’s just one of the guys—like Jimmy or somebody like that.”

  The corners of her mouth tilted upward in an impish smile. “No female guests?”

  A hot blush climbed up his neck and over his face. “Me? Shoot, I’ll be honest, Nicci, you’re the first woman who’s ever been here. Uh—I mean, other than Granny. And Roslyn. She and Doc have stopped by together. Back when I had girlfriends—the steady kind, that is—I didn’t live here in this house.”

  Her expression sobered as though she’d suddenly been struck by a sad thought. Either that, or she felt terribly sorry for him.

  “I see. Well, I’ll be honest with you, Trey. I’m not much on house cleaning, either. This all looks nice and neat. Would you care to show me the rest of the house?”

  Something had gone haywire with his lungs, he decided. He couldn’t seem to suck in enough air or push it out. Still, he forced himself to walk over to where she was sitting. “I don’t mind. But then you’re going to see where I piled all the junk that was here in the living room so that you wouldn’t see it.”

  She suddenly laughed, and Trey was relieved to see a smile back on her face.

  “You shouldn’t have bothered. Not for me
. I’ve only been in Wickenburg a little more than two weeks and I had to start to work right away. So my house is still piled with moving boxes,” she assured him.

  He reached down and gave her a helping hand up from the chair. “That makes me feel better.”

  Expecting her to pull her hand away as soon as she was on her feet, he was more than surprised when her fingers tightened around his. Since when had a woman wanted to hold his hand just for the sake of holding it? He tried to remember but couldn’t come up with one single time. Unless he went way back to when Lacey still lived in town. But that was several years ago, and he didn’t want to think about her or any of the fruitless relationships he’d had in his younger years.

  “Lead on,” she told him.

  With the warmth of her hand wrapped in his, Trey led her through a short hallway and into the kitchen.

  “Next to the bedroom, I use this room the most. That’s why it’s messy,” he said sheepishly. “Guess you can see I haven’t gotten around to that sink full of dishes yet.”

  She smiled up at him, and Trey was surprised to see a twinkle in the silver-gray depths. “Don’t feel bad. I haven’t gotten around to mine, either.”

  Gesturing toward the cabinets, she said, “These are nice. Did you build them?”

  The mere fact that she considered him to be a man with enough skill to do such intricate carpentry work was a huge shot to his ego. Yet at the same time it puzzled him. It was as though the woman looked at him with different eyes from everyone else. And that could only end up causing problems. Because sooner rather than later, she’d see the real Trey. The goofball who was good at doctoring animals but inept at most everything else.

  “Do I look like I could do carpenter work?”

  She stepped back as she swept her gaze over him. “Yes, you do. Can you?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “I can build a barn and do simple repairs. That’s about it. I didn’t make these cabinets. They were already together when I got them. But I did tear the old ones out and put these in.”

  She beamed a smile at him. “See, I was right. You can do carpenter work.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” he said.

  “Oh, I would. My father can’t hammer a nail in straight. And probably wouldn’t even if he could.”

  “What kind of work does he do?”

  Turning her back to him, she walked over to the cabinet counter and ran a hand over the marble-like top. “He’s an oil and gas consultant.”

  Trey whistled under his breath. “Guess he makes plenty of money.”

  “Plenty,” she said flatly. “He’s not nearly as wealthy as Roslyn’s father, but he’s like him in some ways.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Old man DuBose isn’t the most likable person. Although he’s a heck of a lot nicer than he used to be.”

  She turned back to him, and Trey noticed there was a wan smile on her face that hinted all wasn’t right with her and her father.

  “His personality isn’t like Mr. DuBose’s, thank God, but his drive for money is,” she said. “Both men have made tons of it, but neither man has ever been content.”

  Trey chuckled. “Boy, am I ever safe,” he said. “There’s no danger in me becoming rich.”

  She laughed, and he motioned for her to follow him out of the room. “Come on and I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  She walked over and clasped a hold on his upper arm and the two of them ambled down a short hallway, where he pointed out two spare bedrooms, a bathroom and finally the master bedroom, where he slept.

  “Do you have property with this place?” she asked as she stepped inside the room.

  For a moment Trey’s brain didn’t register her question. He was too busy imagining himself lifting her onto the rumpled bedcovers and slowly removing that pretty green dress.

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes in an effort to push the erotic image away. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  She walked over to the window and peered past the curtain. “I asked if you have any property with the house.”

  “Oh. Yes. Ten acres. I have three horses. They’re necessary for my job—when we do ranch calls. Would you like to look out back?” he asked, while thinking he had to get her out of the bedroom before he said or did something that would make him look like a total idiot.

  Nodding, she walked back over to where he stood. “I’d love to.”

  She latched onto his arm once again, and Trey led her to the kitchen, where they exited the house through a back door.

  “The house really needs a porch here, too. But I hate to go to the expense of building one. Especially since I don’t always plan to live here. I’m saving my money to buy a ranch,” he told her.

  She glanced at him with surprise, and Trey figured she was wondering where a guy like him would ever get enough money to buy land, much less the livestock to put on it.

  “That sounds like an ambitious plan. Is that something you’ve always wanted?” she asked as he guided her down the set of wooden steps.

  “It is. I’ll probably have to work a long time to make the dream come true, but that’s okay. The harder a guy has to work for something, the more he appreciates it when he does finally reach his goals. You know what I mean?”

  Nodding, she squeezed his arm. “That’s one of the reasons I moved here to Arizona. So that I could work for my own home, my own goals.”

  Did those goals include a man? He wanted to ask her, but he told himself her private plans were none of his business. Like he’d told Cybil, the only thing he could ever be to Nicole was a friend.

  Chapter Four

  The restaurant Trey suggested for plain, downhome cooking was the Wagon Wheel, an older establishment located in the main part of town. The long, narrow dining room consisted of several small square wooden tables in the front area near the windows and booths lining the back walls.

  Authentic wooden wagon wheels holding hurricane lamps hung from the tall ceiling, while the pale green walls were decorated with large photos and paintings depicting the town in its earlier heyday of gold and silver mining. Near the table where Nicole and Trey chose to sit, she noticed a small wall mural depicting a grizzled prospector leading a burro loaded down with packs of supplies.

  “This is a neat place, Trey,” she said as he helped her into one of the wooden chairs. “Do you come here often?”

  “When I’m lucky enough to have the time.” He eased into the chair across from her, and after pulling off his hat, he raked a hand through his blond hair. “Usually it’s so late when Doc and I finish up the day that I just go home and scrounge up something. Like a fried bologna sandwich.”

  She laughed. “You can make those?”

  “Sure. I have a steady diet of them. Sometimes I change it up and fry salami instead, but it’s not as good as bologna.”

  “Sorry, Trey, you’re not going to get bologna in here. But we do have grilled cheese if you’re that set on having a sandwich.”

  Nicole looked up to see that a young waitress with long black hair pulled into a low ponytail had arrived with two glasses of ice water and a pair of menus. Between the smiles she was directing at Trey, she eyed Nicole with open curiosity.

  “Hi, Linda. And I don’t want a sandwich. I’m going all out tonight. Nicci is buying.”

  The woman’s brows arched skeptically as she settled her gaze on Nicole. “How nice of you to treat Trey. He’s solid gold.”

  Trey’s laugh was more like an embarrassed cough. “Yeah, just melt me down and I’d be worth millions,” he joked, then gestured to Nicole. “Linda, this is Nicci Nelson, our new receptionist at the clinic.”

  “Hi there,” the waitress said politely. “I’m Linda Barstow. I’ve been friends with Trey for years and years.”

  Nicole thrust her hand out to the woman. “I’m happy to meet you, L
inda. I’m new in town, and Trey has been telling me this is one of the best places to eat.”

  The waitress shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Nicole.” She looked at Trey and then back to Nicole. “Er—did you two know each other before you came to Wickenburg?”

  Nicole answered, “No. I’m from Texas.”

  “But she’s rooting down here,” Trey added. “That’s what she’s planning to do.”

  “That’s nice,” the waitress said, then glanced over her shoulder as a bell above the door announced more patrons entering the restaurant. “Well, I’d better take your drink orders. I’m the only waitress working tonight, and it looks like we’re going to get busy.”

  After Trey ordered a beer and Nicole a glass of ice tea, Linda hurried away.

  As Nicole began to study the menu, Trey said, “Linda went through hell a few years ago. Her parents were killed in an auto accident down in Phoenix and then she lost her little sister to a blood disease.”

  Lowering the menu, Nicole looked at him with dismay. “How awful. Does she have other siblings or family around?”

  “No,” Trey replied. “She’s all that’s left of the Barstows. I believe she has distant relatives somewhere in Nevada. But I don’t think they get along.”

  Nicole grimaced. “Relatives can be well-meaning, but they can be smothering, too.”

  He let out a dry laugh. “That’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.”

  Nicole wondered what he meant by the remark, but before she had the chance to ask, Linda arrived with their drinks.

  Once the waitress had jotted down their orders and moved on to a nearby table, Nicole turned her attention back to Trey.

  “I’m interested to hear more about this ranch you’d like to have,” she told him as she pushed a straw into her ice tea. “Have you already chosen a place you want to purchase?”

  Nodding, he twisted off the cap on the beer bottle. “Yes. Except that the owner doesn’t want to sell. At least, not now. I’m hoping that by the time I’m financially able to offer him a price, he’ll change his mind. It’s a long shot, but I’m like the little engine that could—I think I can, I think I can,” he added with a grin.