His Texas Wildflower

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His Texas Wildflower Page 6

by Stella Bagwell

He was telling her that love was not an important commodity on his list of needs. The reality should have put her off, should have made the warmth of his hand insignificant, the race of her heart slow to a disappointed crawl. But it didn’t.

  Like the rich pastry in front of her, she understood Jake Rollins wasn’t necessarily good for her. But he was too tempting to resist.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re going where?”

  Amusement slanted Jake’s lips. Even over the cell phone, he could hear the dismay in Quint’s voice.

  “To Gertie’s place. Or I guess I should be calling it Rebecca’s place. Since it belongs to her now.”

  As Jake motored his truck down the narrow, two-lane highway he could have counted at least twenty-five fence posts before Quint eventually replied and even then Jake figured the other man was rolling his eyes.

  “I always did think you’d make a good detective, Jake. Maura’s brother, Brady, could probably find you a good job in the sheriff’s department if you wanted it. You’re better at pulling information from people than a dentist pulls teeth.”

  Jake chuckled. “I can’t help it. It just falls in my lap.”

  Quint’s groan could be heard over the telephone connection. “Oh, sure. You’ve probably been harassing the lady all week. How many times have you called her? No. Better than that, how did you get her phone number?”

  “Quint, I’ve not called her once. I don’t even have her number.”

  “Really? How did you miss that piece of information? You seemed to know other, more personal things about the woman.”

  “Look, I just happened to run into her at the feed store. She asked for my help and I couldn’t refuse her. Could I?”

  “You? Refusing a woman? That might have actually killed you.”

  Jake frowned. Normally Quint’s sarcasm would have made him laugh, but for some reason this evening he wasn’t finding it amusing. More like downright annoying.

  “You’re being a real jerk about this, Quint. Especially when I was planning on driving on to Apache Wells to check on Abe—after I finish meeting with Rebecca.”

  Quint sighed. “I’m trying not to be. But you took me by surprise, that’s all.”

  “Why? What’s so surprising about me seeing Rebecca Hardaway? She’s gorgeous and nice and I happened to like a woman’s company.”

  “No bull,” Quint said with a wry snort, then added, “If you want the truth, I figured Gertie’s niece would have already left here by now. Along with that, she’s not your type.”

  Jake’s jaw unconsciously tightened. “You mean she’s not a barfly?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Quint countered. “You did.”

  “You meant it,” Jake shot back at him.

  “All right,” Quint conceded with a dose of frustration. “You’d be the first to admit that you don’t go around seducing schoolmarms.”

  “Rebecca is hardly a schoolmarm.”

  “No. But she seems like a nice, decent woman. And after five minutes of conversation, I’m not sure you’ll know how to treat her.”

  Even though Quint was his childhood friend and the two of them always spoke frankly to each other, Jake was struck by his comment. It was true that Jake had always directed his likes toward “experienced” women. But he knew when and how to be a gentleman. He resented Quint implying otherwise.

  “I’m not a heathen, Quint. Besides, she wants me to look over her horse. Not her.”

  “Poor thing. Someone should have told her you’re an expert at both,” Quint said.

  “You’re really on a roll this evening, Quint.”

  Quint paused, then said, “I don’t mean to get on your case, Jake. I’m just thinking about you. From what I saw of Rebecca Hardaway, she’s the type of woman who—well, who could hurt a man without even trying.”

  Jake let out a wry snort. “What are you talking about? She’s a fragile little flower who couldn’t hurt anything or anyone.”

  Quint didn’t say anything to that. Instead he abruptly changed the subject. Jake figured his friend had decided he was wasting his time giving him advice about the opposite sex.

  “So what did you decide about buying the alfalfa from the producer in Clovis?” Quint asked. “I thought it was a fair price. And they always have good, clean hay.”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Jake told him.

  “What are you waiting on? Cold weather? The price to go up?”

  “I was hoping the price would fall a bit,” Jake admitted. “If it doesn’t, I might be better off sticking to creep feed. I want to do more figuring before I decide what feed program to plan for this coming winter.”

  “I can understand that. I just wouldn’t wait too long, though. Otherwise, you might get caught with your pants down.”

  Jake realized that Quint’s advice was well-meaning. He even appreciated his friend’s guidance, but it did little to bolster Jake’s self-confidence. ’Course, Quint didn’t have any idea that his longtime friend lacked in that department. At one time, before Jake had purchased the Rafter R, Quint might have believed he needed a big dose of ambition, but never self-confidence. That was something that Jake had kept carefully hidden from his friend, his mother, anyone who was close to him. He didn’t want them to know that he often lay awake at night wondering if he was on the right path, if the business decisions he made would be the right ones and hopefully keep the ranch out of the red.

  “I’ll make my mind up about the alfalfa in the next few days,” he told Quint, then spotting the turnoff to Rebecca’s place in the far distance, he added, “I’m almost here. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He started to snap the phone shut when Quint’s voice stopped him.

  “Jake—all that stuff I said earlier about you and Ms. Hardaway, I didn’t mean to sound insulting.”

  “I never thought you did.”

  Quint sighed. “I just worry about you getting involved with a woman here on a temporary basis. I don’t want to think of my best buddy moving to Texas and away from me. And I sure don’t want to think about you getting that hard heart of yours cracked open.”

  A surprised frown crinkled Jake’s features. “Oh, hell, Quint, there’s not a woman on this earth that would make me leave New Mexico. And there sure isn’t a woman who can break my heart.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Jake grinned as he wheeled his truck into Rebecca’s graveled drive and told his friend goodbye. But as he slipped the phone into his jeans pocket and climbed down from the truck, he wondered why Quint had made such a fuss about him seeing Rebecca in the first place. The other man had never voiced an opinion one way or the other over Jake’s female conquests, he didn’t see why he should start now.

  Shoving that thought away, he started toward the house.

  Rebecca had been down at the barn, locking the horse up in the dry lot, when she’d caught sight of Jake’s white truck pulling into the drive. Now, as she hurried through the backyard, she called his name.

  “Jake! I’m back here.”

  He spotted her immediately and quickly changed directions.

  She stood where she was, taking in his tall, muscular stride until he reached her side. This evening he’d changed his denim shirt to a teal plaid accented with flapped pockets and a long row of pearl snaps down each cuff. He looked very Western and extremely sexy and as he smiled at her, she could feel her heart reacting like a runaway drum.

  “I was going to the house,” he told her. “I thought I’d find you there.”

  It was impossible for her to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. Though she didn’t understand completely why, just seeing him made her happy.

  “I’ve been down at the barn, shutting the horse in the corral so it wouldn’t leave before you got here,” she explained. “Would you like to go have a look at her now?”

  “Sure. We’re already halfway there anyway,” he reasoned.

  With Beau on one side and Jake on the other, she led the
way to the barn. As they moved forward, she noticed he was taking in the heaps of neatly piled junk she’d gathered from all corners of the yard.

  “I’ve been trying to clean up the clutter,” she explained. “Gertrude must not have believed in getting rid of anything. Even after it was broken. I’ve never seen so many old tires and rusted buckets.”

  “I’m surprised at how much better the place is beginning to look. And while we’re on the subject, I could haul this stuff away for you,” he offered. “That is, if you don’t already have someone to do it.”

  She gave him an appreciative smile. “It’s nice of you to offer, Jake, but Abe has already offered to send some of his hands to come pick it up for me.”

  “You’ve talked to Abe?” he asked with surprise.

  She nodded. “This afternoon after I got back from Ruidoso I drove down for a little visit. I wanted to let him know in person how much I appreciated his kindness the day of Gertrude’s funeral. He’s such an easy man to talk to. If I tried, I couldn’t have picked a better neighbor.”

  He chuckled. “If Abe wasn’t eighty-five I’d be jealous.”

  Jealous of her with another man? Even though the idea was ridiculous, it thrilled her to imagine this man getting possessive ideas about her. But no one had to tell her he was teasing. This morning while they’d drunk coffee at the Blue Mesa, he’d confessed to her that he’d never been in love or intended to be. And she’d spent the rest of the day wondering why.

  Trying to keep a blush from stinging her cheeks with pink color, she purposely turned the conversation in a different direction. “Did you get your work done at the racetrack?”

  “Finished up about an hour ago. I’m still trying to get the kinks out of my back.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you with Starr. You should have told me to call a vet.”

  “Starr? Is that what Gertrude called the horse? Or did you find registered papers?”

  “If Starr has papers, I’ve not found them. But then I haven’t begun to sift through all the drawers and cabinets filled with Gertrude’s papers and things.” She glanced away from him as she realized there was nothing for her to do but answer honestly. “You see, up until the morning of her funeral, I had no idea my aunt had any sort of pets.” Trying to smile, she directed her gaze back to him. “So I’ve given them all names of my own. They might not like what I’ve christened them, but it’s better than calling them dog, cat or horse.”

  “Well, looking over Starr is hardly a problem for me,” he assured her, then added with a wink. “And moving around helps the kinks in my back.”

  At the barn, they walked to the small fenced lot connected to the left side of the building. Inside the enclosure, the gray dappled mare that Rebecca had named Starr ambled over to them. Beau flopped down in a nearby shade, content to simply watch.

  While Jake sized up the animal’s overall appearance, Rebecca decided it best to keep her questions to herself until he had a chance to voice his opinion.

  Finally, he said, “From this side of the fence, she looks like she’s in reasonably good shape.”

  “Do you have any idea how old she is? Or what sort of horse she is?”

  “With a closer look I might be able to give you a good guess about her age. Do you have a halter or bridle that I could put on her?” he asked.

  “Yes. Just a moment and I’ll get it,” she told him.

  When she returned with a rope halter, she found Jake already inside the corral and his hands on the horse. Rebecca scrambled over the fence to join him and he took the simple piece of tack from her and slipped it on the mare’s head.

  Dismayed at how easy he’d done the task, she groaned with frustration. “I tried putting that thing on her several different times yesterday. But each time she kept lifting her head higher and higher.”

  Chuckling, Jake glanced at her. “Don’t let her beat you at that game. Before you try to slip it on her nose, put your arm behind the back of her head. That tells the mare to keep her head down to your level.”

  “Oh. Well, I did warn you that I know very little about horses.”

  He cast her an appreciative glance. “You knew enough to see that this one was a mare.”

  The color on her cheeks deepened. “Thank you for giving me that much credit.”

  His hand stroked down the mare’s neck and then his fingers began to comb through Starr’s long, black mane. For a man with big hands, Rebecca couldn’t help but notice how gently he touched the mare.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “But I can’t figure why you named her Starr. She doesn’t have a star in her forehead.”

  She shot him a hopeless look. “Does everything have to be so literal with a cowboy? I wanted to name her Starr because she is one—to me. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

  “Best reason of all,” he answered, then with a soft laugh, motioned for her to come closer.

  Since she was already standing only a couple of steps away, she could hardly get much closer without touching him, she thought. Confused by his gesture, she took a cautious step toward him and Starr, then paused.

  “Come on over here,” he coaxed, while pointing to the spot directly in front of him. “Neither one of us is going to bite you. I want to give you a lesson.”

  Rebecca wasn’t sure she was ready for the kind of lesson he could give her, but she stepped forward anyway.

  Immediately, he slipped the rope halter off the mare’s head and pushed the dangling straps into her hands.

  Gasping, she stared at him. “Jake, I can’t do this! I’ve already told you—”

  Before she could finish, he positioned her next to the horse, then situated himself close behind her. Rebecca drew in a sharp breath as the front of his hard body pressed against the back of hers. Heat flooded her senses, raced over her skin to leave every pore puckered with awareness.

  She was trying to catch her breath and assure herself that she wasn’t going to melt, when he suddenly aligned his arms with hers and slipped her hands into his.

  “I’m going to guide you,” he explained in a low voice. “Let’s open the halter like this.” With his hands moving hers, the strands of rope fell into the right position. “Now we’re going to put this arm around Starr’s neck and this one is going to loop the rope over her nose.”

  The subtle movement of his body against hers was sending currents of excitement shivering through her, making it difficult to breathe, much less think. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her face or guess how overwhelmed she was by his nearness.

  “She—she’ll try to run away.” Rebecca finally managed to speak.

  “No. She won’t,” he murmured. “She likes human contact. Don’t you?”

  Rebecca shouldn’t have to answer that question, she thought wildly. The mare wasn’t trying to move away from them any more than Rebecca was trying to pull away from Jake.

  Swallowing again, she admitted, “When the time and the place is right.”

  He didn’t say anything to that. But then he didn’t need to. The slow, sensual shift of his body was already telling her how much it liked being next to hers. How much he wanted to prolong the experience.

  She tried to swallow and ended up gulping as his low voice vibrated close to her ear.

  “This piece goes behind Starr’s ears. And this one beneath her throat. Now latch the two together and pull it snug. But not tight.” He easily thrust two fingers between the halter and the mare’s jaw. “See. You should be able to get your fingers comfortably beneath the rope.”

  “Yes—I see.”

  Her voice sounded more like a strained squeak than anything and he glanced over his shoulder to look at her. “Are you okay?”

  She tried to smile, but ended up merely nodding at him. “Sure.”

  “Want to try again?”

  Again? She’d barely survived this one lesson. “Um…no. I think I can manage now. Thanks.”

  Before he could insist on another haltering session,
Rebecca quickly stepped back until there was a safe distance of space between them.

  Glancing over at her, he said, “You must be a fast learner.”

  Superfast, she thought, as she took in the faint grin on his face. In a matter of moments, she’d learned that standing next to Jake was like snuggling up to a piece of red-hot dynamite. “I am. I pick up on things—quickly.”

  “That’s good. Especially around animals. You always need to be on guard around them.” With his gaze still on Rebecca, he stroked a hand over Starr’s rounded hip. “Just because Starr is standing still and behaving nicely now doesn’t mean that something couldn’t frighten her and make her rear or bolt. She wouldn’t be trying to hurt you—she’d just be trying to save herself. But you could get hurt in spite of that. You understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

  Yes, she understood far more than he could possibly know. That he and Starr could both be unpredictable. And that she needed to stay on guard when she was around either of them. Yet that wasn’t the way to enjoy the horse, him or even life in general. Strange how she could think in those terms now that she’d traveled out here to New Mexico. Before, back in Houston, she’d carefully thought out every step she’d taken.

  “Don’t worry, Jake. I’ll be very cautious when I’m around her.”

  “Good.”

  He gave her a lazy smile, then turned his attention back to the mare. For the next few minutes, he made a slow, thorough inspection of Starr’s teeth, ears, feet and coat. Once he was finished, he led the horse over to the fence and loosely tied the lead rope to one of the cedar post.

  “Well, I’d say Starr looks to be somewhere around ten years old. And she’s a quarter horse most likely mixed with a bit of Thoroughbred. The kind we use on the ranch to work cattle.”

  “Is ten old? For a horse, that is?”

  He ambled over to where Rebecca stood and lazily leaned a shoulder against the fence. “Not at all. She hasn’t even reached her prime yet.”

  She smiled with relief. “Oh. I’m glad. I mean, well—I guess I’ve already gotten attached to her and I hated to think that she might be in her waning years. And—I might not have her for much longer.”

 

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