The Sheriff & the Amnesiac

by Ryanne Corey

  For once Jenny did as she was told. She had something to focus on besides her own woes. This was wonderful. “What’s the PRCA?”

  Tyler set the tray on her lap. It was actually a cookie sheet—the bachelor’s answer to a lap tray. “Professional Rodeo Cowboy’s Association. I ate dirt for a living. How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” Jenny said. “The headache eased up. Tell me about rodeos.”

  “Will you eat while I talk?”

  Jenny looked at the omelette, fruit and hash browns that the American Cowboy had cooked up for her. “Somehow,” she promised, “I’ll manage.”

  And so, because he cared about her and he wanted to distract her, he sat on the edge of the bed and told her about rodeos.

  Fortunately, Jenny could chew while she listened. She smiled when he told her about his start in rodeos—riding one of his dad’s calves when he was two years old. By the time he was twelve years old, he’d made it to the national finals of the Little Britches Rodeo, which whet his appetite for lights, dirt, wild crowds and wilder stock. He talked about his sport in an offhand way that belied the pain, determination and awesome talent it must have taken him to achieve the standing of All-Around World Champion. But his expressive eyes lit up, and his quiet voice warmed to his subject, and Jenny knew he had loved his moment in the sun.

  “How do you stay here?” she heard herself ask quietly. Her food had disappeared long ago, along with her headache. The empty, bachelor’s lap tray had been moved to the floor. “All that excitement, all the notoriety…don’t things ever get too quiet here for you?”

  Tyler shrugged. He was sitting next to Jenny on the bed, his back leaning against the wall. “I don’t really think about it much. Rosie, Ella, the terrible two…they mean more to me than a gold belt buckle ever could. There are a lot of times I wish I’d made different choices. I was gone when my dad died. I was gone when Rosie started having problems. Granted, the money helped my family out, but I’m not sure it made up for my absence here. It was kind of a Catch-22. No matter how much I won…I felt like I couldn’t really win.”

  Rosie looked down at the magazine again. “You look happy. Tyler, there’s nothing wrong with following your own star, finding your own way in life.”

  He smiled faintly. “That’s what I used to tell myself. I was caught up with doing my own thing, perfectly willing to trade a few broken bones for the approval and the money and the challenge. But now…I’m not sure it was worth the price other people paid.”

  “But you did what you needed to do, right? What you wanted to do?”

  “Oh, I’ve always pretty much gone after what I wanted.” And here she was, her curly head leaning against his shoulder. What he wanted.

  After a long moment Jenny said softly, “You’re a good man.”

  He cocked one eyebrow at her. “You’ve been at the pain pills again, haven’t you?”

  “Nope.” She grinned up at him. “Just speaking my mind. Fortunately, I’m a woman and allowed to change it.”

  So sweet, so earnest, a smile curling her beautiful Bambi eyes. Because it seemed perfect, the most natural thing in the world, he leaned down and kissed her mouth softly. It was the briefest contact, a mere butterfly kiss, but carried seriously high voltage.

  “Maybe you could try and remember that,” he whispered against her parted lips.

  “The kiss?”

  “The man.” One more kiss, lingering a fraction of a second longer than the first. “Not the cowboy, just…the man.”

  Jenny had no idea if she was a forward woman by nature. She rather doubted it, which made it even more surprising when she lifted her hand, cradling the hard curve of his cheek. Her thumb stroked his cheekbone softly. He hadn’t shaved yet that morning—she could feel the scratchy-soft beard against her palm. His forehead dipped against hers, his brow furrowed, his eyes drifting closed. “What are you doing?” Jenny whispered. “You look so serious.”

  “I’m memorizing.” He opened his eyes then, the sensual, fierce flash of electric blue catching Jenny by the throat. “Memories are roses in winter, did you know that? Something to hold on to when things get a little cold.”

  “I’ve never heard that.” She gave him a wobbly smile, intensely aware of his physical warmth, his broad shoulders and hard chest. Everything that made him different from her was etched in her mind with fire. “At least, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that. You’re sort of a cowboy poet, aren’t you?”

  “Not hardly.” But his voice was distracted, his eyes focused intently on her lips. So soft, so ripe and full, the little edges curled upward like ribbon. They belonged in a scandalous movie, those lips. He couldn’t help it—he lowered his head with a sudden hunger, catching her mouth beneath his. Some far corner of his mind registered the fact that she met him halfway, which only added fuel to the fire. He wasn’t the only one who wanted.

  Tyler’s body sang, instantly aroused. His lips tasted, held, broke and kissed again. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close. She parted her mouth with complete surrender. Now she cooperates, Tyler thought with something akin to panic. Now, when we’re both on this bed and I’m half out of my mind with need.

  Without being conscious of it happening, they slid down on the bed, legs tangling together on the disheveled bed sheets. Never once did Tyler stop kissing her, on her lips, her neck, her hair, her lips again. The more he had, the more he wanted. He tried to be gentle, but it took a superhuman effort. He’d waited all his life for her. He had a lot of lost time to make up for.

  “Jenny…” Flushed, he broke from the kiss, holding her beautiful, heart-shaped face in his shaking fingers. “You’re injured. I don’t want to hurt you…”

  “Then don’t stop,” Jenny whispered. “This is so strange, but…suddenly it feels so good to be held. So good. Just hold me, Tyler. Please.”

  She had no idea what she was asking of him. Just holding her, in fact, was impossible. But Tyler tempered himself as much as he could, easing the iron band of his arms, trailing gentle kisses down the lovely line of her throat. He pressed his lips against the pulse that jumped there, tasting the rhythm of her heartbeat. Hectic, fevered…matching his exactly.

  “You’re all right?” he murmured, worrying even as his hands slipped down her shoulders, his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts over the cashmere sweater. The slight contact left him dizzy, and he tried to remember he was the caretaker here, the one responsible for her welfare. He knew she was confused, constantly navigating her way. He didn’t want to add to that stress, but he simply didn’t have the willpower to change the course of the river rippling through him. Desire had never come like this before, hot and fierce and as untamed as any wild animal he had ever faced. Desire had always been easily contained, civilized.

  He didn’t feel civilized now.

  “You…” Jenny gasped when his hands molded the curves of her breasts, “You worry too much about me. This feels…I feel…”

  Tyler pressed a shaky smile against her neck. “Me, too.”

  Jenny wondered if this was all as new to her as it felt. Being held by someone, focusing on their breath, their body, the look in their eyes…in a strange way it was both comforting and arousing. Little by little her walls came down, a part of her relaxing that had been tense since Enchilada Ernie’s. She pulled back her head slightly, permitting herself one long, delicious look at her American cowboy. She loved his hair. It seemed to always be a bit disheveled, tangling in straight lengths on his neck and forehead. That hair gave a touch of the little boy to him, a sharp contrast to the knowing sensual heat in his heavy-lidded, hypnotic eyes. He had magic.

  “Do you want to know a secret?” she whispered, her lips quirking at one corner.

  It took Tyler two tries to make his voice work. And when it finally did, it sounded like sandpaper, gritty with strain and tight with the emotions that shivered between them. “I love secrets. Tell me.”

  “I’m tired of thinking,” she said, her dark choc
olate eyes round and solemn. “I don’t want to think anymore. I want to feel.”

  Tyler wondered how much one man could take before he snapped. Briefly he closed his eyes while he tried to gather his thoughts and discipline his body, but all he saw was Jenny. He opened his eyes, and all he saw was Jenny. He had a feeling that had she been halfway around the world from him, he would still see her face everywhere he looked. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he said. “You don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re doing to me,” Jenny replied softly. She took his hand in hers, placing it directly over her heart. Her smile was enchanting, surrounding him with a warm, physical presence. “Do you feel that? That’s my Tyler-rhythm. Crazy, hectic, out of control.”

  Tyler lost pace with his breath. “Is this a truce or a surrender?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. The edges of her moist lips curled like a cat’s tail, enchanting him. “I’m so tired of thinking. When I look at you, when I see that look in your eyes…I feel precious. And I want to give back everything you’re giving me, the rush, the sweetness, the feeling of belonging. Could I do that, do you think? Can a girl with no memory of her experience affect a man like you?”

  Tyler smiled faintly, remembering his very recent sleepless nights. She probably had no idea how good she looked to him, her riotous, curling hair reflecting light in every strand, her Bambi eyes beguiling. “You pack quite a wallop, little girl. I’ve been hit hard by a lot of things in my life, but never by anything like you.” He closed the distance between them slowly, watching his own reflection in her round-eyed stare. His open mouth took hers gently, probing, stroking the swollen warmth of her lips. After this kiss, he thought, she would know. She would understand what she meant to him.

  Tyler had never kissed a woman like this in his life. His dreams had become wishes, and his wishes had come true. She was like an exotic delicacy to him, fragrant and mysterious and addictive. His fingers were tangled in her hair, and he could feel them trembling. He gave his heart in his kiss, imprinting on her mouth all the intense, erotic feelings that had been torturing him since the first time he’d seen her. He held nothing back. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the soft sound she made deep in her throat, like a whimper. A new recklessness seized him as he tasted the warmth and fire of her mouth. He deepened the kiss, taking it from sweet to savage in the space of a heartbeat. It wasn’t a conscious choice; his body knew it was the next step. Losing control.

  He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, spreading her over him. He tried to be gentle, mindful of his accident-prone love’s bruises, but it was more difficult than he ever could have imagined. Little by little they sank deeper into the moment, and Tyler felt as if there had never been a woman before Jenny. Like her, he was born yesterday. Or actually, the day before.

  Gasping, Jenny pulled back her head, staring down at him. “It comes so fast between us…all the feelings.”

  “That’s because they’ve been there since the first day,” Tyler said hoarsely, drinking her in with his hot blue eyes. “At least for me they have.”

  She gave him a shaky-sweet smile. “You couldn’t stand me.”

  “Wrong.”

  “You arrested me.”

  “Right.” This time he rolled her on her back, being careful not to jar her ankle. Looking down at the beautiful creation of his desire, he dropped a soft, lingering kiss on her mouth. “And if I have to keep arresting you every day for…oh, hell.”

  Jenny stilled. “Oh, hell, what? What’s wrong?”

  “Rosie,” Tyler grated out. “She’s what’s wrong. Did you just hear that coughing noise in the driveway?”

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Jenny said. “I was preoccupied.”

  Tyler steeled himself for a next-to-impossible effort. Gently he rolled over on his side, then sat up on the bed. The hollow aching in the pit of his abdomen had spread lower—tight and burning. He felt like a time bomb ready to detonate. Until now, he hadn’t realized he had homicidal tendencies. “Jenny, that coughing noise comes from my sister’s beloved station wagon. She’s here.”

  As if to confirm his words, Jenny heard the front door slam. “Why is she here?”

  “Because she’s nosy,” Tyler grated out. “She never visited me this much before I met you, I’ll tell you that. I was the one always checking on her.” He stood up, facing the doorway, hands planted on his hips. And he talked to himself. “I am going to go stark raving mad. One man can’t take all this stress. If she’s brought the terrible two, I won’t be responsible for my actions. I don’t care if she’s my sister. Jenny?”

  “What?” she asked, bereft and shell-shocked on the bed.

  He turned on his heel, holding out a hand. “Let’s run away.”

  For a moment there was no expression at all on her passion-flushed face. Then a slow, honeyed smile spread over her lips and she put her hand in his. “I like the way you think.”

  Seven

  Tyler kept a Jeep in the garage, a nice change from riding around in his boat-size policemobile. The rag top was off and he left it that way, buckling Jenny in as if she were the most precious piece of fine china in the world. Nothing more could happen to her, he told himself. Nothing bad, never again.

  They headed west, skirting main street and leaving Bride Falls on Her Head behind. Jenny wore one of Tyler’s ball caps to keep her hair from whipping her in the face. There was a blanket and a thermos of coffee in the back. Despite the sensual tension that shivered between them, the mood was light and funny, as if they had indeed run away from home. They’d left Rosie fixing lunch for herself and the twins back at Tyler’s house. And other than Rosie cocking her eyebrow at the hickey blooming on Jenny’s neck, no questions were asked.

  “Where are we going?” Jenny shouted, to be heard over the wind.

  Tyler grinned at her, looking for the moment very much like a certain heartthrob on the cover of American Cowboy. “Away. Is that good enough?”

  Jenny realized it had been some time since she had been able to look at him without the rhythm of her pulse changing radically. Still, it was probably understandable, considering that Tyler had been blessed with far more than his fair share of charm and looks. “Better than good enough.”

  They both seemed to be in the same mood—deliberately lighthearted and unwilling to talk about anything remotely serious. They cranked the Jeep’s CD player up as loud as it would go, Tyler singing along with Brooks and Dunn and Martina McBride. Jenny didn’t know the words to the songs, but she clapped enthusiastically for her chauffeur after each performance. The emotional tensions of the past few days seemed to slowly melt away, out of sight and out of mind.

  The naked physical tension was something else. It was constantly there between them, chattering, digging, needling. It kept Jenny quite literally on the edge of her seat, while Tyler gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. They sang, they laughed…and they darted simmering, longing looks when the other wasn’t watching. Nothing had changed since those few minutes in the bedroom. Tyler carried his need with him in the pit of his belly, while Jenny’s cheeks remained permanently flushed and her imagination wandered. Something was going to happen, she knew. Soon. It was almost a relief to focus on that rather than her own mysterious past. There were all the answers she needed in the back of her mind, so close, yet just out of reach. Not for the first time she had the odd sensation of apprehension and reluctance to face those memories. Rather than brooding, she chose to have this one afternoon free of questions and anxiety. She could face her ghosts later.

  Just one afternoon with him, she thought. Was that so much to ask?

  Tyler knew exactly where he was taking her. There was a blanket in the back of the Jeep, along with a thermos of coffee. Back in the old days when he needed to escape from the tension at home, he had headed up Lamb’s Canyon to an isolated, high mountain meadow several miles east of town. He had spent hours and hours there, wondering abou
t his future and wishing for something, anything, to happen to him. Of course, in those days there had been only a rutted dirt road winding up the mountain, so he’d usually saddled a horse and cut across country. It had been more than a decade, and Lamb’s Canyon had caught up with the times. The Jeep followed a curling ribbon of paved road, winding up and away from the little town of Bridal Veil Falls. Then Tyler turned off the main road and left the Jeep idling while he unlocked a steel pipe fence with a sign that said No Trespassing.

  “You’re the sheriff,” Jenny pointed out from the passenger seat. “You can’t trespass.”

  “I have the key to the gate, silly rabbit,” he said. “I know the owner. And why all of a sudden are you intent on keeping laws?”

  “I’ve reformed.” She couldn’t help the silly, love struck smile that curved her lips. Tyler’s broad-shouldered figure was outlined against a bluebird sky, his burnished hair haloed in sun. There was a frayed white hole in the knee of his stone-washed jeans, and the cowboy boots he had donned were scuffed and obviously well-worn. Jenny wondered if she had ever known a cowboy before. She rather doubted it, or she wouldn’t have been riding a Harley-Davidson alone. She had discovered she was particularly susceptible to cowboys. And sheriffs.

  They drove another half mile, this time on a narrow gravel road. Jenny saw two deer shaded in the aspens, a mother and her fawn. She also doubted she had seen many deer, or she wouldn’t have whooped and pointed and felt as if she had witnessed a miracle right there in Lamb’s Canyon. Tyler found her excitement highly amusing. Who would have guessed the sullen rebel from Enchilada Ernie’s would have been capable of so much childlike enthusiasm?

  The dirt road abruptly ended in a small gravel clearing. Tyler parked the Jeep, then turned to Jenny with a grin. “See?”

  Jenny followed the sweeping gesture of his hand, gazing on a mountain meadow of wildflowers. She’d never seen such colors—vivid reds, butter yellows, the lavender paint-spots of bluebells. There was a tiny lake at one end of the meadow, fed by a stream that appeared magically out of the rocks in the side of a sloping hill. And if she turned her head and glanced behind them, she could see the miniature houses and streets of Bridal Veil Falls.