Lindy climbed down from her horse and looped the reins over a tree branch and scoped out the group. He did, too. The two women guests who were already friends were sitting on logs that Cole and his dad had hauled here years ago. They seemed to be enjoying their chat with Sandy.
T.J. was strolling around the area hunting for arrowheads with the married couple, probably telling stories of the area. Dalton stood under the windmill shooting the breeze with the single lady and Mr. Davis, the father of the sullen teenage boy, who stood off by himself stroking the nose of his horse.
Cole walked Wildfire under a tree and saw Lindy set her sights on the boy. After sauntering over to him, Cole overheard her introduce herself, and he watched with interest as she engaged the young man in conversation.
With a shake of his head, Cole wondered what possessed her. The kid, Hunter, who must be thirteen or fourteen, had obviously been forced to come with his father to the ranch. With jet-black hair that was gelled into spikes, and looking like he felt miserable in the hot sun wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt with a skull and crossbones design, Cole hadn’t seen him smile yet. He wondered what the kid’s story was, and why there was no mother with them.
Fascinated by the easy interaction that appeared to be occurring between Lindy and Hunter, Cole thought maybe she had siblings. He examined Wildfire’s hooves while studying her from between the horse’s legs. Close-mouthed about anything of a personal nature, he wished he could get inside her head and learn what made her tick.
Twenty minutes later, it was time to hit the trail again. Cole found himself riding solo at the back of the pack when Hunter sneakily edged his horse next to Lindy and Freckles.
Cole sighed. That teenager was smarter than he’d given him credit for. At least Lindy graced Cole with one of her dazzling smiles when she glanced over her shoulder and shrugged.
Back at the corral, everyone, including Lindy, removed their saddles, the pads, and the bridles from their horses and hauled the tack into the barn. She didn’t ask him for help, and he was pleased to see she was a fast learner. He already knew she was an independent woman.
“Walk your horse back to the field and then return the halters and lead ropes to the barn,” Dalton hollered as people scurried in and out of the barn. “Supper’s at six o’clock sharp. We’ll have a campfire around eight-thirty. Tomorrow morning, for any of you who are interested, we’ll do some gun shooting, and I’ll teach you about cowboy mounted shooting. After that, we’ll take another trail ride.”
Squeals of delight came from the ladies of the group, and smiles flourished all around. Seemed the Painted Pony Guest Ranch was starting off with rousing success.
Before he knew it, Lindy was out of Cole’s sight. He spied her headed for the house and strode briskly to eat up the space between them. But his steps slowed when Pam and Sheryl swooped in on each side of her. He fell back and eavesdropped on their conversation.
“My bottom is sore,” Pam chuckled, while rubbing her backside. “And my fingers feel paralyzed from holding the reins so tight. I’m going to headquarters to sign up for one of your massages right now, Lindy.”
“Me, too,” said Sheryl. “I might need one each day I’m here.” She arched her back and grimaced. “I had no idea horseback riding was so painful.”
“One hour with me and you’ll feel good as new,” Lindy assured with a smile. “Mrs. Roberts has the appointment book in her office.”
“Aren’t your bones aching?” Sheryl inquired. “And your thighs? I’m walking like a penguin.”
“Surprisingly, no aches or pains,” Lindy said. “As a matter of fact, I feel energized.”
“It’s a miracle,” Pam replied, glancing at Lindy’s back end. “You hardly have any padding.”
Cole’s gaze also moved to Lindy’s backside, and it remained glued there while quietly following the trio as they made their way up to headquarters. He had to disagree with Pam. Lindy’s bottom was perfectly padded.
The ladies continued to joke about being happy to share some of their insulation with Lindy, and she laughed heartily with them, which surprised him. It seemed a little out of character for her to be so animated. Hadn’t he accused her earlier of being too reserved and not knowing the definition of fun? Seemed she was proving him wrong.
As soon as that memory entered his mind, Cole realized Lindy was simply doing her job, which was to be friendly to the guests and drum up business. The nicer she was to the guests, the more massages they would book. The more massages she gave, the more money she, and the ranch, would earn. And hopefully the guests would make reservations for a return trip and then tell others about their experience with the fun and outgoing staff. It was the trickle-down effect.
“She’s brilliant,” Cole said, smiling, and with his gaze still riveted to Lindy’s backside. Not realizing he’d spoken aloud, his head snapped up when he sensed eyes on him. The quizzical expression on Lindy’s face held him like a deer caught in headlights.
“Is there something you wanted, Cole?” she asked with narrowed eyes. It was obvious she’d caught him staring at her.
Yes, he thought. I want you.
Pam and Sheryl turned around, and all three women perused him like he was a slab of meat at the butcher shop.
When he failed to answer, Lindy repeated, “Do you need something, or are you just stalking us for the heck of it?”
Sheryl sniggered, and for the life of him, he could not utter a word. Even if he could have, whatever would have come out of his mouth would have been a lie, because he’d only wanted to walk Lindy to the house and say goodbye. Tell her he enjoyed riding with her today. Say he’d see her at supper tonight. Ask if she’d want to sit with him at the campfire.
Damn. What an idiot he was. Feeling his face burning with mortification, he shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets and shuffled from one foot to the other. Why did his tongue feel tied? He was acting like an insecure teenager.
Pam slapped a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. But Sheryl didn’t hold back with wild laughter. Apparently the women could see straight through him, and without him even opening his fool mouth!
Pivoting on his boot heel, his humiliation grew twofold when he heard one of the women say, “That cowboy’s cute,” and Lindy reply, “He’s not bad. If you like your cowboys goofy.”
He jogged down the hill and cut a path to the cabins. That’s where he should have been all afternoon anyway. Not mooning over some girl who barely gave him the time of day.
Fourteen
It was the perfect evening for a campfire. Lindy joined the others in a round of applause when Sandy finished singing an old-school western tune while accompanying himself on the guitar. Stretching her legs in front of her, she sat on a thick log staring into the flames that danced from the fire pit in front of her.
More log seating surrounded the pit. All eleven guests were here tonight, along with the wranglers and Ella and Cole. Even Luz. Everything about the evening felt magical. Beyond the barn, next to the babbling creek, with a fringe of cottonwood trees behind them, the setting could not have been more ideal.
“Any requests?” Sandy asked, to which several people called out theirs.
As Lindy enjoyed the music, the fragrant scent of wildflowers drifted into her nostrils, and the soft warbling of a bird filled her ears. The buzzing of insects and the whistle of the breeze filtering through the trees accompanied Sandy like background singers. But it was the coyote, somewhere far off, singing his lonesome song that became Sandy’s real competition.
Lindy’s gaze lifted at hearing the coyote’s cry. She met Cole’s face across the flickering fire. When his lips curved into a wicked smile, her stomach did a flip. He looked so handsome in his jeans, a checked shirt and black cowboy hat on his head.
Late that afternoon, she’d taken a shower, given a massage, and then sat through supper with him never far from her thoughts. Now, with his gaze fused with hers, an uncontrollable feeling of desire ricocheted throug
h her body.
True, he’d followed her to headquarters after the trail ride and she’d caught him staring at her bottom, but it hadn’t bothered her as much as she’d thought it might. Cole was not a lecherous man. He liked her and was not hiding the fact. Normally, there was nothing wrong with that.
Radiating boyish charm, the way he sometimes acted shy and tended to trip over his own tongue was endearing. But it was his strength, his intensity, and the way she continued to dream about his kiss that kept her up at night. Underneath that smile was a guy who oozed sex. No matter how much he might try to control it, Cole’s natural animal magnetism was not something that could be easily buried with his broken heart.
Although she wanted—needed—to deny it, the butterflies flittering around in her ribcage were proof that the physical attraction was mutual. Greedy for his touch, Lindy gazed up at the rising moon that was competing with the last glimmer of light from the dying sun. She made a wish.
Her body yearned to be joined with his. Just once. It was selfish, she knew, but her willpower was becoming weaker with every moment spent in his presence. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. She didn’t think Cole would be an unwilling partner, especially if they both agreed on one rule. Hearts could not be involved. Only bodies.
Hadn’t he told her he wasn’t interested in another relationship? She’d told him the same thing, in a roundabout way. So far, he hadn’t made any overt advances, but his hinting had been clear. It was the idyllic situation. Imagining him making love to her caused her heart to beat wildly and her thighs to throb.
When he rose from the log, the breath in Lindy’s throat caught. Was he coming over? Dear God, could her wish be coming true?
Cole turned in a half-circle, stepped over the log, retrieved a few pieces of wood from the pile behind him and then shuffled to the pit and tossed them on the fire. When he retook his seat next to Ella, the ache Lindy felt in her loins turned to a deep, agonizing burn.
“Who wants some of my famous cowboy coffee?” Luz asked once Sandy’s concert was over. All hands flew into the air, including the two Tammen children. Luz filled several blue metal coffee pots with water from plastic jugs pulled from a cooler and asked T.J. for his help. “Put these on the fire, please.”
T.J. jumped up and Luz handed him a long metal rack, which he placed over the fire and then carefully set the pots on top. With more help from Dalton and Sandy, Luz filled seventeen paper cups with a scoopful of coffee grounds taken from a metal container.
“What’s in your coffee that makes it so famous?” someone asked her.
“Top secret ingredients. If I told you what they are, I’d have to kill you.”
Everyone laughed.
“Why do you call it cowboy coffee?” Dalton called out, winking.
As if the two of them had rehearsed the joke, Luz didn’t miss a beat. She replied, “Because just like our New Mexican cowboys, it’s smooth, strong, and once you’ve had a taste, nothing else will do.”
Again, laughter filled the air. “Chalk one up for Luz,” Ella snickered.
When steam began spurting from the tops of the coffee pots, Cole bent and placed a wet finger on the side of one pot. “I think the water’s hot,” he announced.
After slipping on a pair of leather gloves taken from his back pocket, T.J. carefully carried the pots one by one over to Luz and she began filling the cups. Dalton and Sandy helped to pass them out. When Dalton handed Lindy hers, ribbons of steam swirled into the air, with the sweet aromas of cinnamon, vanilla and chili pepper embracing her senses.
“Anyone want to roast marshmallows?” Ella asked, reaching into the paper sack behind her and withdrawing a bag of marshmallows.
“I do,” shouted the children and some of the adults.
“Dalton, please bring over those sticks,” Ella said, pointing to a pile of tree branches whose tips had been whittled to points. “Everyone grab a stick and some marshmallows, and have at it.”
A few minutes later, Hunter walked up to Lindy and offered her the cooked marshmallow on his stick. Since she didn’t care for all that sugar that stuck to her teeth, she hadn’t roasted any herself. But she couldn’t turn down the boy she’d befriended today.
“Thank you, Hunter. It looks good.”
“You’re welcome.” He turned without saying another word and sauntered back to his father, who covertly gave Lindy an appreciative “thumbs up” sign.
As Lindy forced the marshmallow down her throat, she saw Susan, the woman sitting next to Cole, wince when her marshmallow slid off her stick and dropped into the dirt. Cole offered his perfectly browned gooey puff to her, which made Lindy smile. When he looked up and caught her watching him, Lindy didn’t break her gaze.
Feeling bold, she parted her lips and sent out a mental message, hoping he’d read more into her smile than mere pleasure for his having done a good deed. When his head cocked and his eyes narrowed in question, she wondered if her telepathy had worked.
Once the flurry of marshmallow roasting had died down, the air smelled of smoke, burnt sugar and sweet coffee. The moon was high in the sky. As it had risen, the air temperature had dropped, and it was now crisp and cool. Beside Lindy, Pam yawned. On the next log over, the little Tammen girl was curled up in her mother’s lap sound asleep. Far to Lindy’s right, T.J.’s hat-covered head lolled around on his chest.
With her hands still wrapped around the empty paper cup, Lindy stared into the crackling yellow and orange fire, mesmerized.
“How about one more song before we call it a night?” Sandy said, lifting his guitar into his lap. “Anyone have a final request?”
“I do,” Cole said, drawing Lindy from her dreamlike state. “I’d like to hear the Tennessee Waltz.”
Lindy saw Ella elbow Cole in the ribs and grin. Her eyes began to glitter with tears, and her voice carried across the fire when she said, “That was mine and your father’s favorite song.”
“I know,” Cole replied, kissing her forehead.
On the other side of Lindy, Sheryl whispered, “What a sweet son.”
Feeling choked up herself at the thoughtful gesture, tears threatened to burn the backs of Lindy’s eyes. With her life lacking any semblance of certainty and stability, she doubted she’d ever marry and have a family. It seemed impossible to imagine she’d be able to attain the kind of happiness Ella seemed to have found with her husband, or what Lindy’s own parents had before her dad died.
“Do you know the song, Sandy?” Cole asked, looking to the wrangler.
“I sure do, Cole.” When he began to strum and sing the words to the old Hank Williams tune, Cole stood up and drew in a deep breath. As he walked around the fire toward Lindy, her heart seized.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, parking himself in front of her and reaching for her hand. When she placed her hand in his palm, a spark ignited between them—the kind of spark you get when you run a brush through your hair during a summer lightning storm.
Exhilaration coursed through her body when he whisked her into his arms. He covered her right hand with his left and pressed it close to his heart. His other hand went around her waist and rested on the small of her back. Lindy curled her left hand around his neck and they began to waltz. At least, she thought it was the waltz. Although she had no idea how to do the dance, Cole seemed to, so she followed his lead.
As Cole twirled her around the fire in sweeping circles, they glided together, light as feathers, precisely in sync with each other. His knee moved in and out between her thighs and every hair on Lindy’s arms prickled. When he drew her closer and inhaled her hair, she pressed her fingers into the rigid muscles of his back. Oblivious to everyone and anything except the solid warmth of his chest pressed against her, Lindy flowed with the music, transfixed in a timeless moment.
When the song ended, Cole whirled her to a stop. But it seemed he was in no hurry to part. She tipped her head up and let herself be drawn into his ocean blue eyes. Never wanting to leave t
he inviting haven of his arms, she shivered with longing—wanting him to kiss her again. Ascending into what felt like a dream, she let her eyes drift shut for a moment.
A snicker from the children snapped her back to reality.
“Thank you for the dance,” Cole whispered into her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck.
This time it was she who was unable to speak.
Cole stepped out of their embrace and tipped his cowboy hat to her. When he sauntered to the other side of the fire, Lindy sank onto the log with her head spinning.
Pam squeezed her arm and sighed. “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”
Sheryl leaned across Lindy’s lap and concurred. “I think that cowboy has the hots for you. I thought he was going to kiss you right in front of all of us.”
Lindy lowered her gaze and stared at her hands, still feeling Cole’s touch. When she dared to look up again, her gaze flew across the fire, but Cole was gone. Glancing in every direction, her mouth gaped. Where had he gone? And why had he left?
Calls of “good night” abounded from the group as everyone tossed their paper cups into a trash bag, thanked Ella and the wranglers for a great evening, and began to disburse. When Lindy asked if there was anything she could do to help clean up, Ella told her she, Luz and the boys were taking care of things here. “Did you have a fun time today?” Ella asked as Lindy turned to leave.
“Yes. Thank you. I appreciate the way you’ve gone out of your way to make me feel a part of your ranch family.”
Ella nodded, seeming pleased, and then abruptly switched the topic. “Cole’s a good dancer, isn’t he?”
Lindy felt her cheeks redden at Ella’s directness.
“He got his rhythm from his dad. I can barely walk without tripping over my own feet.” She chuckled and then lowered her voice. “Your face is luminous in the moonlight. Or could there be another reason you look so content?” She winked and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. Lindy peered past her into the darkness to see a pickup truck parked beside the barn. Under the dim glow of the barn light stood a man.
Tularosa Moon Page 10