Real Vintage Maverick

by Marie Ferrarella

  But you did this time, didn’t you? a voice inside his head taunted.

  Maybe he had come on a little too strongly, Cody silently conceded, but that had come as a surprise to him as well. God knew he never expected to feel anything again, let alone the degree of attraction that he felt taking hold whenever he was anywhere around Catherine.

  It was that first spur-of-the-moment kiss that had triggered it, he thought.

  Ever since then, he’d found himself seeing the world differently. Seeing her differently. And his own part in his life had taken center stage again. He wasn’t sleepwalking through life anymore, wasn’t just standing on the sidelines the way he had these last eight years. And while he was still working through some residual guilt over being able to finally move on, it really did feel good to be alive again.

  He just had to convince Catherine that she wanted the same thing he did: a relationship that, as it grew in intensity and scope, would eventually culminate in marriage.

  Perhaps even sooner than later.

  * * *

  Life was good.

  The amount of business she’d done that first day hadn’t just been a fluke or flash in the pan. A week after the shop’s grand opening and customers were still turning up, still buying. Not out of acts of kindness or blind support but because they liked what they saw.

  She knew she owed that, at least in part, to Cody. In tapping into the cowboy’s preferences, she’d managed to unearth the kind of things that held genuine appeal for the average citizen of Thunder Canyon. She’d never been so wildly busy or felt so happy and fulfilled, so empowered before.

  Or so scared, either, she silently admitted in a rare moment of respite from the steady traffic of questing customers. Scared because the feelings she had whenever she thought of Cody—and she thought of Cody all the time—were so incredibly strong she felt that they could very easily overpower her.

  Since that first day, he was never far from her thoughts.

  Hell, he was in them all the time. While she was talking to customers, opening the shop up in the morning, closing the shop down at night, Cody’s face would suddenly rise up in her mind without warning, his voice echoing in her head.

  Making her lose her train of thought.

  She had to work extra hard to keep her growing clientele from thinking she’d lost her mind.

  Maybe she actually had lost her mind, Catherine thought. How else did she explain the overwhelmingly strong feelings she was having about a man she’d know for less than a month?

  This wasn’t the reaction of a woman viewed by one and all as “the level-headed one.”

  It just didn’t make sense.

  And yet, there it was, part of her every waking moment and part of her dreams as well.

  Maybe if Cody continued to stay away, as he had these last few days, she had a chance—albeit a slim one—of getting over him, of actually getting back to the way her life had been before a racing pulse had become her normal state of existence.

  Why hadn’t she seen Cody these last few days? she wondered uneasily. Had he felt rebuffed that night at her grand opening when she’d hurried back inside, leaving him just standing there? Had she wounded his pride because she’d chosen the store over him?

  And if she had wounded his pride, how did she undo that?

  Catherine pressed her lips together. All she was doing was succeeding in making herself crazy, she silently admonished.

  When she heard the tiny bell ring, announcing yet another customer, she was relieved by the diversion. Pasting a wide smile on her lips, she turned around to greet whoever it was.

  “Hello, welcome to the Real Vintage— You,” she cried abruptly.

  “The real vintage me?” Cody pretended to roll the words she’d just uttered over in his head, frowning as if he was trying to make sense of the greeting.

  “Cowboy,” she said, supplying the last part of the shop’s name. “Cowboy,” she repeated with emphasis through clenched teeth. He knew damn well what she’d meant to say, she thought, exasperated. “Where’ve you been?” she asked before she could think to stop herself.

  The smile on his lips was equal parts mystery and satisfaction.

  “Miss me?” he asked innocently.

  Underneath it all he was relieved because until just this moment, it had all been a gamble for him. He’d been dealing with the very real possibility that she might not have missed him at all. But one look at her face told him that she apparently had. All was well with the universe.

  “Yes. No,” Catherine quickly amended, not wanting to appear too eager. But then she shrugged, knowing that to pretend that she hadn’t missed him was tantamount to telling a lie.

  So, in order to save face, Catherine compromised and settled on “Kind of.” She waited a beat, then asked again, “So, where were you?”

  “I had some catching up to do on the ranch.” Which was true, although Hank and Kurt were more than capable of running the ranch and training the horses for a few days at a time. “Besides, I figured I’d let you get being exclusively a shop owner out of your system.”

  She raised her eyebrows. Now what was that supposed to mean? “Oh, you did, did you?”

  “Yup.” His grin was completely unassuming and incredibly boyish, despite his age. “Also figured that after five whole days of that, you might be ready for a break, so here I am. Consider me as your break.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she tried very hard to look indignant. After all, he couldn’t just waltz in here after five days of hibernation and think he could just take over this way.

  Oh, who was she kidding? This wasn’t the time to mark her territory. She was just happy to see him. Exceedingly happy. “What did you have in mind?” she wanted to know.

  That was when Cody held up the large wicker basket he’d brought in with him. “Guess.”

  She couldn’t just jump into his arms after he’d deliberately stayed away. It would be setting some kind of precedent. Moreover, it would be giving him permission to take her for granted, letting him know that she’d always be waiting for him to make his appearance no matter how long he stayed away.

  She was her own person, damn it. That meant that she couldn’t have him thinking that he could just pop up after pulling a disappearing act and all would be summarily forgiven.

  “Look,” she began, doing her best to sound annoyed, “you might think you know me, that you can read me, but you don’t and you can’t.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, setting the basket down on the counter.

  Summoning her bravado, Catherine raised her chin as she tossed her head. Silken brown hair went flying over her shoulder. “Yes, that’s so.”

  The words sounded angry. But inside, she was trembling, praying that she hadn’t overplayed her hand.

  Damn it, he had her so twisted up inside she didn’t know what to feel, how to react.

  What to want.

  “Damn, but you are stirring me up like a pot of stew over a campfire flame when you do that,” Cody told her.

  She wasn’t aware of doing anything out of the ordinary. “Do what?”

  Catherine barely got the words out before her lips were rendered immobile. Or rather, recruited for another activity that did not involve talking.

  She wanted to protest, to cling to her shredded indignation and tell Cody that he wasn’t following the rules, wasn’t behaving the way she thought he should.

  But it was very, very hard to be indignant when her whole body felt as if it was on fire even as it was radiating insurmountable joy.

  One kiss from this cowboy and her thought process was reduced to a pile of useless rubble.

  What was worse was that she didn’t care.

  Giving herself permission to enjoy this one kiss, Catherine wrapped her arms around her rough-hewed cowboy’s neck. In response, Cody swept her into his arms and her feet lost contact with the ground—just as the rest of her lost contact with the world around her and slipped effortlessly into the one he was cre
ating just for the two of them.

  You’d think, she tried in vain to reason, that she would be getting used to his kisses by now instead of lighting up like a Christmas tree inside each and every time his lips found hers.

  It wasn’t getting old; it was getting better. And better.

  As she sighed in utter wonder and contentment, Cody gently set her back down. And then he stepped back, away from her. Taking a second to pull himself together, Cody took her hand and led her to the front door before she realized what was happening. With the picnic basket handle slung over his forearm, he flipped the open for business sign that hung in her window over so that it now proclaimed: Closed. Please come back tomorrow.

  He was closing down her store. He couldn’t do that, she thought in sudden agitation.

  “But it’s the middle of the day,” Catherine protested. Wanting to sound angry, she realized that her voice sounded oddly compliant to her.

  “Yeah, I know,” Cody acknowledged. “Best time to have a picnic,” he added with a wink.

  Once outside, he waited for her to lock the door, then he took her over to where his truck was parked.

  “Where are we going?” she asked uncertainly as she got into the passenger side.

  “To my ranch,” he answered, turning on the ignition. He backed out of the parking space slowly, then pressed down on the accelerator once he was in Drive. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  She couldn’t begin to imagine who he was referring to. Had his sister come for a visit?

  “Who?” Catherine asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

  “My horse.”

  “Your horse?” she echoed incredulously. “You want me to ‘meet’ your horse?” Was that some kind of code? Or a joke? Cody couldn’t possibly be talking about an actual horse—could he?

  “Uh-huh.” He looked at her as they stopped at one of the few lights in Thunder Canyon. The bewildered look on her face made him laugh. “Honey, you can’t begin to understand a ‘real vintage cowboy’ if you haven’t met his horse.”

  His laugh, deep and rich, wrapped itself around her, instantly heating her blood. Catherine settled back in her seat. “Can’t wait,” she told him.

  He knew she was being flippant, but she was coming along—in more ways than one—and that was all that really mattered to him.

  Chapter Twelve

  They’d been driving to his ranch for several minutes when he turned to Catherine and asked, “Can you ride?”

  “In a car,” she answered, her expression the personification of innocence.

  “No, a horse,” Cody corrected. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

  He knew that just because this was Montana didn’t automatically mean that everyone listed horseback riding as being among their skills. Some people were even afraid of horses.

  It hadn’t occurred to him until just now that Catherine might be in that group. Mentally crossing his fingers, he really hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “Does sitting on a pony and having my picture taken at the age of five count?” she asked him, obviously amused by his question.

  He made a right at a large oak tree and kept driving. His ranch house was now visible in the distance. “That all depends,” he allowed.

  She wasn’t exactly sure what Cody meant by that. “On what?”

  Even if she’d never ridden a horse, as long as she was game to try, that was all that counted. “On whether the photo was taken at a full gallop or not.”

  “Not,” she answered. “Neither the pony nor I were galloping at the time,” she assured him. She added, “It was a very docile pony.”

  So posing for a picture atop the pony hadn’t spooked her. That led him to a logical question. “If that was the case, why is it that you never went horseback riding after that?”

  She lifted her slender shoulders in a careless shrug as she continued looking around and taking in the scenery. There was a sprawling ranch house in the distance that looked at if it could have accommodated three families, not just one lone man.

  Didn’t he get lonely rattling around that big old house by himself?

  “Too busy with everything else to take the time I guess,” she told him. “Is that your ranch house?” she finally asked, unable to bank down her curiosity any longer.

  He nodded. “That’s my ranch house,” he acknowledged, sounding about as cheerful as she’d ever heard him. “Stables are to your left.” He pointed them out to her.

  Coming to a stop before the house, he parked and got out. Going around the vehicle, he came over to the passenger side. He held the door open for her. Once she was out, Cody leaned in to retrieve the picnic basket from the backseat.

  “Almost forgot this.” His laugh was self-mocking. Hooking his arm through hers, Cody ushered her toward the aforementioned stables. “I picked out a really gentle horse for you, just in case.” He didn’t want to give her a headstrong animal that insisted on getting its own way, not if she was unfamiliar with how to handle a horse. Besides, getting a spirited horse might give her an excuse not to ride with him. “Looks like I was right.” His smile was encouraging, coaxing. “C’mon, let’s go meet your horse.”

  An uncertainty nibbled away at her, an uncertainty that had nothing to do with the proposed riding session. Cody was moving fast, maybe too fast.

  If something moved forward fast, it could also move on just as fast, she reasoned, leaving her behind in the dust. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk that. Wasn’t sure if being with Cody for only a little while was something she could accept.

  “My horse?” she echoed quizzically.

  “Well, your horse for the day,” Cody qualified. “You can’t go riding without a horse.”

  Okay, she’d play along, Catherine thought. “And why am I going riding?”

  “Because the perfect place for a picnic is at the top of a bluff. The view you get there is guaranteed to take your breath away,” he promised.

  “Do I really want to be breathless on a picnic?”

  It took him a moment to realize she was pulling his leg. He grinned. “You do this time.”

  Catherine nodded, accepting his answer. But she still had another question for him. “And you can’t get there by truck?”

  “Nope.”

  Okay, he silently admitted, he was stretching the truth a bit. In reality they actually could access the bluff that way, but it was a mite tricky. One wrong move and they could find themselves sliding back down the incline. Getting there by horse was a lot safer and, as far as he was concerned, a lot more pleasurable.

  Cody set the basket down right behind the stable door. The last thing he wanted was to have one of the horses come over to investigate the tempting aroma emanating from the basket. Most likely it would be knocked over on its side and scavenged, a casualty to the animal’s curiosity.

  Cody placed his hand on the small of Catherine’s back and gently prodded her into the stable.

  He brought her over to the first stall. “This is Buttercup,” he told her, introducing her to a mare the color of light butterscotch. The horse had a small white star on its forehead that almost matched the color of her mane. “She’s very gentle,” he promised Catherine. Then, turning to the mare, he said, “Buttercup, this is Catherine. Go easy on her—she’s new at this. Be sure not to spook her.”

  Catherine didn’t know whether to be amused or worried. “You talk to your horses?”

  He looked surprised that she would even ask. “Why not? They understand me about as well as people do. Sometimes better,” he amended. “Pet her muzzle,” he coaxed. Then he said to Catherine with a grin, “I’m talking to you, not the horse, in case that wasn’t clear.”

  This time, she was amused. Hesitating at first, she gently ran her hand along the horse’s sleek muzzle. Buttercup remained perfectly still, as if she understood that she couldn’t make any sudden moves.

  Catherine smiled as she continued stroking the mare. “She’s a beauty,” Catherine enthuse
d.

  “Funny,” Cody told her thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what she was thinking about you.”

  Catherine looked at him sharply. “You can’t know what a horse is thinking,” she protested.

  Cody’s mouth curved, a completely unfathomable expression on his face. His tone gave nothing away, either. “You’d be surprised.”

  Hank walked into the stable in time to hear the last exchange between his boss and the attractive guest he’d brought.

  “I wouldn’t put nothin’ past this man if I were you, ma’am,” he warned amiably. “I’ve seen him tame and charm a horse that was behavin’ as if he had the devil himself inside of him. Nobody could handle Wildfire but this here boss man,” the man testified with a solemnity that rang with pride.

  And then the tall, wiry man touched two fingers to the brim of his worn, weather-beaten hat as a sign of respect and said, “My name’s Hank, ma’am, and I’ve been working for the boss man here for close to five years now—in case he didn’t mention me,” he added by way of an explanation for his talkativeness. The lines on his weathered face deepened as he smiled slyly and looked at Cody. “I can see why you’ve been going into town so much lately. She’s a real looker.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cody could see color begin to creep up Catherine’s cheek. Hank’s comment had embarrassed her.

  “Since you seem to have so much time on your hands, McCarthy, why don’t you saddle Buttercup for the lady?” It was more of an order than a request.

  Aware that he might have unintentionally crossed over a line, the ranch hand snapped to attention.

  “Oh, yeah, sure thing, boss man.” But despite his hurry to do as Cody instructed, Hank paused for one extra minute, smiling directly at Catherine. “Really nice meeting you, ma’am.” And, after a quick tip of his hat, the ranch hand went to fetch a saddle for the mare.

  “Don’t pay any attention to Hank,” Cody told her, feeling the need to explain the man’s actions. “He’s not used to having anyone come to the ranch.”