“I love you,” he whispered.
The moment was theirs, and theirs alone.
“I love you back,” Anna said. “My hot cowboy.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that.” Kyle gave her a wide grin. “Wanna eat? It’s vegetarian all the way. Not a piece of meat in sight. Not even for me. I kind of liked that mushroom thing at Chez Orleans, so I had Mrs. Ward make some.”
Anna laughed. She took Kyle’s hand, kissed him again, and led him to the table while Riverbend continued to rejoice.
Kyle poured wine, and he and Anna clicked glasses, toasting to their first dinner as an engaged couple, the first of many nights in the rest of their lives.
Epilogue
The fundraiser for Callie’s rehab ranch took place two weeks after Kyle’s proposal at the Jones family mansion on their enormous sweep of land. Cars, trucks, and SUVs filled the roped-off parking lot, and the green field behind the big white house was covered with picnic tables and lawn chairs.
Ray and Kyle helped Ross and the other Campbells stoking the grills with mesquite and getting them fired up. Grace had brought an entire restaurant with her, or so it looked from the many coolers and crates she unloaded with the help of Lucy and Faith.
Anna arrived and slid out of her pickup, jogging to assist Grace. Kyle’s attention fixed instantly on her, everything in him glad.
“Hey.” Ray poked him with an elbow. “You gonna light something with that or just admire the flame?”
Kyle realized he held a long-nosed lighter straight up, having clicked it on. The flame danced in the breeze and then blew out.
“Sorry. Distracted. In a good way.”
Last night, he’d slept at Anna’s, burrowed next to her in the bed, her silken hair on his shoulder. Even Patches landing full-weight on his ankles as they finished lovemaking hadn’t upset him.
“I’m happy it worked out for you two,” Ray said. “I don’t know if I’ve told you that.”
“No, because I haven’t seen you. You’ve been at Drew’s, painting and sanding and hammering, and whatever else.”
“Drew needs a lot of help,” Ray said. “I’m worried she won’t make it. We’re working hard and hired a crew, but it will be months before she can even think about opening.”
“I take it you haven’t asked her the big question yet.”
Ray looked glum. “I don’t know. She had a bad marriage, and I think she’s hoping to keep out of serious relationships for a while. What we have right now is good, and I don’t want to push her.”
“Mm-hmm. Give her time, but don’t let her slip away, is my advice.”
Ray gave him a keen-eyed stare. “Now that you’re engaged, you can fix everyone else’s problems? You, who couldn’t talk to Dr. Anna without growling at her?”
“Because I wanted her bad but couldn’t admit it. I gave in and …” Kyle spread his arms. “Heaven’s a great place, Ray.”
“As long as you keep the noise down while you’re there. Your bedroom’s above mine.”
Kyle shrugged, pretending not to grow warm with embarrassment. He and Anna could be enthusiastic.
“Move in with Drew, and you won’t have to worry. Anna and I can run our ranch house—she needs more room anyway. Of course, we have to introduce her cat to Peetie, and that will be some drama. Maybe. Peetie likes cats.”
Ray only gave him a look and returned to getting the mesquite burning.
Lucy and Grace argued about something as they lugged the coolers through the Jones’s back door, making for the kitchen. The argument was good-natured, the sisters bantering as always. Lucy seemed better than she had when she’d first come home, though she was still dejected.
“Speaking of bad breakups …” Kyle nodded at Lucy. “I seriously want to kick that guy’s ass.”
“You and me both.” Ray and Kyle exchanged glances, bonding in their role as protective brothers.
Lucy dropped her end of the heavy cooler. She started to growl, but Hal Jenkins rushed up to the porch and caught the handle for her. Lucy stared at him in bewilderment, though Grace sent him a grateful nod.
“Hope we don’t have to kick Jenkins’s ass,” Ray said darkly.
“I know.” Kyle chuckled. “He could take us both out.”
He and Ray watched as Hal gave Lucy a weak smile and followed Grace into the house.
“Anna wants to give Lucy a job at her vet’s office,” Kyle said. “As her new assistant, when Janette takes off for college.”
Ray considered this. “Well, Lucy ran that big office in Houston. Or whatever it was she did there.”
Kyle grinned. “I have no idea. Let’s not tell her that, okay?”
Ray relaxed into one of his big laughs. “Deal.”
Lucy glanced their way, frowned, and ducked inside the house.
Anna came out of it and made her way to Kyle. Kyle turned gladly to slide his arm around her waist.
“Hey, darlin’.” He leaned to kiss her, liking that she lifted her face to his, readily kissing him back. No bashfulness, even though Ray stood a foot away.
“Hey, yourself,” she said with a smile.
They regarded each other, Anna’s blue eyes soft and full of love. Ray, with an uncharacteristic display of tact, mumbled something about bringing up another load of wood.
The breeze and smoke swirled around them as Ray went. Anna wore a windbreaker today, the October air touched with coolness. She rested light fingers on Kyle’s chest.
“You know what’s in one of Grace’s coolers?” Anna’s smile went sly. “Ice cream. And chocolate syrup.”
Kyle stilled, his interest caught. “Yeah? Maybe we should try to snag us some.”
“I thought of that.” Anna reached into her jacket and pulled out a dark bottle.
Kyle laughed. “Oh, man. I love you.”
“I love you.” The way Anna’s voice went soft dissolved everything tight inside Kyle. She was what he needed, what he’d been looking for all this time.
“If everyone’s here,” Kyle said. “No one will be at my place.”
Even Margaret had knocked off work to attend the fundraiser. Most of Riverbend had.
Karen arrived, no Deke in sight. Interesting. She slid off the back of Jack Hillman’s motorcycle and adjusted her stylish leather jacket. Even more interesting.
Tina was there, chattering with Callie and Manny Judd—she loved working at the rehab ranch, loved the horses. With luck, she’d figure out that there was more to life than chasing rodeo guys who only saw her as a brief diversion.
Right now, Tina sauntered determinedly after Deputy Harrison, who kept a nervous eye on her while trying to watch Manny and Tracy, who were holding hands.
Mrs. Kaye waved at them, her mouth moving as she talked to the clump of people who listened politely. She gave Anna a thumbs-up, and Anna chuckled.
“She’s the best,” Anna said.
“Means your place is quiet too.”
Anna tapped her cheek with the bottle of chocolate. “We could go back to my house, and then your house.”
Kyle’s heart beat fast and hard. “Could do that. Could do that.”
“Or we could stay and have barbecue.”
The sparkle in Anna’s eyes told Kyle exactly what she wanted. He plucked the bottle out of her hands, cupped her cheek, and gave her a long, slow kiss.
“I say we skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he said softly.
A clanging interrupted them. Callie stood on the porch, ringing an old-fashioned triangle hanging from a rafter. Heads turned, and she held up her hands. Her clear voice floated out as she stood by Ross’s side, welcoming the guests and also Drew and Erica, Ray now next to her, to Riverbend.
Anna touched Kyle’s lips. “We’d better go while no one’s looking.”
Kyle knew she was right. All eyes were on Drew, who looked abashed, and Erica, who reveled in the attention. They watched Ray as well, wondering how he and Drew would end up.
Anna seized Kyle’s hand. Togethe
r they dashed from the barbecue pits, heading away from the house toward Anna’s truck.
Happiness spiked high as he ran, Anna’s soft hand in his, her laughter streaming to him. He looked forward to bathing her in chocolate, licking it from her body, being welcomed into her as they sought each other in love.
Only Karen saw them go. She lifted a bottle of beer in their direction, tucked her hand more firmly under Jack’s leather-jacketed arm, and smiled.
Excerpt: Ray
Riding Hard, Book 7
The cowboy was muscular, solid, and stepped right in her way. Drew Paresky never saw him over the pile of paint buckets, drywall joint compound, and aluminum duct tubing half sliding out of her arms.
She ran smack into him.
The aluminum made a hell of a lot of noise as it clattered to the floor of the hardware store. The drywall joint compound followed, the bag splitting, white powder bursting out to coat Drew’s jeans, the floor, and the entire front of the cowboy, whose firm body was like a wall.
“Damn it,” Drew whispered as she scrambled for the things, dropping more in the process. “Damn it. Damn it.”
Mr. Fuller, the owner of the store, popped out of another aisle and viewed the mess with dismay. He’d kick her out, and then Drew would have to figure out where else to find the mountain of things she needed.
Two large hands righted the broken bag of compound and set it against a shelf and then reached for the tubing.
“Careful now.” A voice as large as the rest of him came out of the cowboy.
Drew risked a glance at his face, her own hotter than fire, and her breath deserted her.
If she had to run into someone, why did it have to be the best-looking man she’d ever seen in her life? He had dark hair under a black cowboy hat, a hard face softened by a few lines about his mouth, and wide shoulders with a sliver of chest showing above his once-black and now powder-coated shirt.
His eyes arrested her most of all. They were green, shade of jade, which sparkled in contrast to his dark hair and tanned skin.
Drew must have spent a full minute staring at his eyes. Not that she wasn’t aware of the rest of his body—as rock-hard and well-formed as an artist’s sculpture.
“Sorry.” Drew realized she needed to say something. “Didn’t see you. You okay?”
She pulled her gaze down his chest to the huge splotch of white powder that started at his chest and fully dusted his jeans.
“Damage isn’t permanent,” the cowboy said. “Let me help you with that. Hey, Craig—you got a cart or a trolley or something back there?”
Drew heard someone crashing around, and then a man not many years younger than the cowboy came around the corner with a flat dolly. The young man was Craig Fuller, son of the owner, who’d helped her find the right pipes and pointed her to the drywall section not ten minutes ago.
“Sorry about that. Should have given you this earlier.” Craig joined the cowboy in loading all Drew’s things onto the dolly. He looked critically at the remains of the bag of powder. “I’ll get you some more joint compound.”
Drew’s defenses softened. She was a total stranger here, and had heard that small-town residents, especially in rural Texas, shut strangers out. But these two were gallantly picking up her things, helping her without a word.
“I’ll pay for the broken bag,” she said quickly.
“No, I will,” the cowboy said. “I ran into you.”
Drew shook her head. “I ran into you.”
“Well, we can debate about that for a while, but I’ll win, so don’t bother.” The cowboy took a card out of his wallet and passed it to Mr. Fuller. “Add it to my order,” he said to the owner.
Mr. Fuller didn’t give Drew time to debate. He took the cowboy’s credit card and moved to the register at the front. Craig headed there too, hefting the new bag of compound to show her it was waiting for her.
“What you need all this stuff for anyway?” the cowboy asked. “Looks like you’re repairing walls, plumbing, and electricity.” He turned over the coils of wire and switch boxes, as well as wire strippers and pliers. “Someone give you a shack to fix up?”
“Sort of.” Drew took a breath, tamping down her irritation, her anger, her near despair.
Before she could finish, Craig called down the aisle. “The old Paresky house. This here’s Drew, Paresky’s granddaughter.”
The cowboy’s eyes flickered with interest. “Really? The Paresky … uh .. place?”
Drew’s eyes narrowed. “You were going to say dump, weren’t you?”
The cowboy’s cheeks reddened. “Well …”
“Don’t worry.” Drew let out a sigh. “It is a dump. But it’s my dump now.”
The cowboy nodded as he looked Drew up and down with a gaze that would be considered rude—even homicidally so—in Chicago. But here, everyone stared at Drew like this. She was new, an oddity, and yet, she had roots in Riverbend.
On the other hand, she’d never been to Riverbend. Her parents hadn’t brought her here on their very few visits, and while Drew had been curious about her grandparents’ small town, in a vague way, her life hadn’t given her time to think deeply about it.
She’d found what was known as the Hill Country and Riverbend itself to be beautiful. Refreshing. Calm. But she was already getting tired of being an object of curiosity.
“Thanks so much for helping,” Drew said to end the conversation. “And sorry I ran into you.”
She grabbed the handle of the dolly, trying to plow it around the cowboy and back toward the register. The wheels stuck and went every which way, explaining the clattering she’d heard before.
The cowboy grasped the bar, brushing her hands with his warm ones. A flare of heat shot through Drew, one she quickly suppressed, but her heart hammered.
He expertly maneuvered the dolly along the aisle, turned it in the open space at the end, and pushed it to the register. “There’s a trick to them,” he said when she caught up.
Drew took out her credit card—which would max out very soon—and used it to pay for the rest of the supplies. She winced when she saw the total.
The cowboy noticed. He stood close to her, leaning on the dolly as Craig set the purchases on it after his father rang them up. The cowboy’s gaze stayed on Drew’s face as she slid the card back into her wallet.
Without a word, the cowboy pushed the dolly outside for her and around the corner to the dirt lot where the customers parked for the feed store. He went directly to her small car, probably figuring from the process of elimination which was hers. Of course, it was the only car in the lot—all the other vehicles were pickups.
“No way you’re getting all this stuff in your bitty car,” the cowboy said, rightly so. “How about I haul it in my truck?” He gestured to the big black Ford 250 parked near the hay barn in the back. “I know where the Paresky place is—Out on Ranch Road 2889, right?”
“Yes.” Drew swallowed. “But I can’t let you … I mean, it’s nice, but I don’t even know you.”
One thing to have a handsome stranger help her in the store, another to have him follow her to her house. Or precede her. Drew still wasn’t sure of her way around.
“I’m Ray.” The cowboy stuck out his hand for her to shake. “Ray Malory. Everyone knows me.”
She took his hand, finding his grip hard, fingers strong, his touch fanning the flare she tried to suppress.
“Drew,” she managed, withdrawing with difficulty. “Oh, right, you already know that.”
“How do you do?” The twinkle in his eyes told her the formality amused him. “Only makes sense—my truck’s plenty big enough for all this. I’ll meet you out there and unload it for you, then I’ll leave you be. All right?”
What could she say but, “Sure.” Turn down help when she needed it? A large vehicle that easily held what would take hers three trips to haul?
If he turned out to be an ax murderer, she could always lock the door and call the cops … if the locks on the doors
actually worked today and she could get her cell phone to find a signal.
Better idea—she’d get there before him and instruct him to leave everything in the driveway and go. Drew could barricade his way to the house and her daughter inside it.
The trouble was, Ray took off before Drew could get into her car and start it. He knew exactly where the old bed & breakfast lay in its derelict heap, and headed there without hesitation.
She caught up to his pickup after he’d turned from the street that led from the feed store out of town onto the road to the B&B. On maps this wider road was marked as the 2889, sometimes labeled as FM—Farm to Market, sometimes RR—Ranch Road. The name changed every mile and a half for no reason Drew could discern.
Drew caught up to Ray only because he slowed to wait for her. The posted speed was fifty, and when Drew reached Ray, he was creaking along at about thirty. When she waved at him from behind, he sped up again, taking off in a roar.
Drew’s car was a small Toyota sedan that had seen better days. Not bad for driving around—and parking in—a city like Chicago and its burbs, but it was out of place in this vast land of endless and very straight roads.
Only one other vehicle passed them—another pickup—going the other way, west into town. The driver lifted a hand to Ray, and Ray waved back.
Did they know each other? Or being courteous?
Was she kidding? Everyone knew everybody in Riverbend, at least it seemed so. She was the only incongruity, the new and intriguing fixture they stared at. As out of place as her car.
Ray slowed and pulled onto the dirt road that led between fence posts—no fence or gate—to the B&B. He didn’t signal, probably figuring she knew where he was going. Or maybe he never bothered to. Anyone following him in this town would already know exactly where he headed.
The lane led between two green hills that sloped down to a wide meadow. The land was deep green now, but Mrs. Ward, the lady who owned the diner, had told her that in spring, the hills would be purple with bluebonnets.
Kyle (Riding Hard Book 6) Page 19