One Tall, Dusty Cowboy (Men of the West Book 29)

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One Tall, Dusty Cowboy (Men of the West Book 29) Page 3

by Stella Bagwell


  “Is this your parents?” he asked, pointing to one particular photo.

  “Yes. About twenty years ago.”

  “And that’s you in the middle?”

  A wan smile touched her lips. “That’s me. I was eight years old there—a chubby little tomboy. Back then I had the burning desire to be the first girl to play major league baseball.”

  Instead of raising a chuckle out of him, he turned a curious look on her. “You’ve surprised me. I would’ve never figured you for a rough-and-tumble girl like that.”

  She shrugged. “Well, I grew up and decided to aim for less lofty goals. I still love baseball, though. Do you like sports?”

  “Never have time for them,” he admitted. “But Sassy, my younger half sister, has talked about playing in a softball league back when she lived in New Mexico. I need to introduce you to her. You two might have a lot in common.”

  Surprised, she said, “I wasn’t aware that you had a sister.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it some time. Right now we’d better be going.”

  He made it sound as though they’d be spending more time together in the future and though the idea was tantalizing, Lilly wasn’t sure she could allow that to happen. One night with this man was going to be hard enough to get through and still keep her resistance intact.

  Outside, the evening air had already begun to cool and before they stepped off the small porch, Lilly took a moment to wrap a white shawl around her bare shoulders.

  “Have you lived here long?” Rafe asked as he took her by the elbow and started to his waiting truck.

  “Yes. I bought the place a few years ago. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s not far from work and my neighbors are very nice.” The modest, two-bedroom house sat on two lots surrounded by chain-link fence. Except for a large cottonwood and a tall patch of prickly pear near the porch, the yard was mostly bare of landscape. “I’ve been planning to do more with the yard, but being a nurse always seems to get in the way of planting shrubs and flowers.”

  “I like it this way,” he said. “Nice and neat.”

  Compared to the Silver Horn ranch house, this place must look like a miniature dollhouse to him, but then compared to his home, most every house in Carson City was lacking.

  His vehicle, a sleek, black, four-door pickup truck was parked along the street and as he helped her into the passenger seat, he said, “I hope you don’t mind riding in a truck. We’ve not had a car on the ranch since—not in a long time.”

  Lilly wondered if he was going to say since his mother had passed away. But she wasn’t going to ask. Not when he’d clearly skirted the issue.

  “I don’t mind,” she assured him.

  And why would she? The interior of Rafe’s truck was far more luxurious than her little economy car or, for that matter, anything she’d ever ridden in. The seats were buttery-soft leather and the dashboard was equipped with all sorts of gadgets that she would need a manual to operate.

  Rafe and his four brothers had been born into wealth and she wondered if he took all the luxury for granted, or if that aspect of his life was even important to him.

  The questions made her realize how very little she knew about this man. But then she didn’t want to get to know him that well. She wanted to keep this evening light and simple. And once it was over she could put it and him behind her.

  “So how was your day?” he asked as they traveled down a residential street that would connect them to a main thoroughfare.

  “Restful. After working eighty hours this past week in E.R. a day off is special. The only nursing I did today was with your grandfather.”

  “You drove out to the Horn on your day off just to give Gramps his therapy? You must be damned dedicated.”

  “Bart is making such good progress that I don’t want to miss a day. At least, not until he reaches another level.”

  “He showed me how he can work his fingers now. I was impressed. You’ve only been treating him for a week.”

  “Two weeks,” she corrected. “I had already been working with Bart a week before that day you and I met on the stairs.”

  With a rueful shake of his head, he said, “What a shame. All that wasted time that we could have had together.”

  Ignoring his outrageous comment, she said, “Apparently, you don’t spend much time around the house.”

  “I sleep and eat there, but not much more. I have too many responsibilities outside,” he explained. “There’s always something to be done on the range—with the cattle and horses.”

  She glanced over at him and was instantly struck by his long, lean body and the dark, proud profile of his face. The only cowboys she’d ever been around were the ones who passed through the E.R. and the common denominator she’d noticed in them was their gritty toughness. She expected Rafe Calhoun was the epitome of that.

  “And what exactly are your responsibilities on the ranch?”

  “I’m the foreman over the cow/calf operation. I oversee the health and nutrition of all the cattle and that includes every aspect of their feeding routine, conditions of the grazing land, calving operations, breeding, identification and vaccination. There’s more, but I don’t want to bore you.”

  “It doesn’t bore me at all. Since I know very little about ranching, it’s all fascinating to me.”

  He slanted her a wry look. “It’s hard to imagine that you aren’t familiar with ranching. You live in the West, my dear. Where do you hang out?”

  “There are several hospitals in Carson City. Are you familiar with nursing and medical treatment?” she tossed back at him.

  He chuckled. “You are good, Lilly. Real good. I have the feeling you’re going to keep me on my toes tonight.”

  And she had a feeling she was already in trouble, Lilly decided. Not only was the man a delight to her eyes, he made her want to smile. Something that Lilly had almost forgotten how to do.

  “I’ll try not to be a dull girl,” she promised, then glanced around as she noticed the bulk of the city slipping behind them. “I thought we were going to eat. What do you have planned? Parking out on the desert and eating off the tailgate?”

  He snapped his fingers. “Say, that’s a nice idea. Especially with the moon almost being full. But unfortunately, I didn’t think of it before I made reservations at a place over on the north rim of the lake.”

  She’d not expected him to drive all the way to Lake Tahoe just for dinner. But she supposed it didn’t really matter. Whether they were in a fast-food joint or a cozy café, she was going to be in his close company and she could already feel that each moment she spent with this man was going to take a heavy toll on her common sense.

  * * *

  A half hour later, when he pulled the truck to a stop in front of the Sierra Chateau and handed the keys to a waiting valet, Lilly was beginning to understand just what it meant to be a Calhoun. The closest that she, or any of her friends, had gotten to this place was only in their imagination.

  The three-story rock structure resembled a small castle nestled within giant pines and pungent spruce trees. A rock bridge formed a walkway over a rushing stream while every space of lawn was filled with blooming shrubs and flowers. It was truly a fairy-tale scene.

  “Rafe, I’m very angry with you,” she said as he tucked her hand into the curve of his arm.

  He escorted her over the bridge toward a canopied entrance where a doorman waited to open a pair of opulent glass doors. “Why? I haven’t done anything—yet.”

  “I am not dressed for anything like this! And I don’t think I’ll be comfortable. Why couldn’t we have gone out for burgers and fries?”

  He thumped the heel of his palm against his forehead in a clueless gesture. “Why in heck didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

 
“Because you didn’t give me a chance to tell you anything. You simply took the bull by the horns.”

  His eyes sparkling, he grinned down at her. “I am a cowboy,” he reminded her. “I’m an expert at taking the bull by the horns.”

  Lilly figured he was an expert at taking, all right. Anything he happened to want. The trick was to make darn sure that what he wanted wasn’t her.

  “Quit worrying, Lilly. You look gorgeous. And I brought you here to enjoy the evening. We’ll do burgers next time.”

  She wasn’t going to think about a next time. It was going to be hard enough just to survive the night.

  Inside the lavish restaurant, a hostess quickly ushered them to a beautiful little table with a view of the lake. As they waited for their meal, Lilly sipped on ginger ale while Rafe enjoyed a locally brewed lager. Nearby, several couples were quietly dining and Lilly tried not to notice how all the women were impeccably dressed.

  Even though her white silk top and black pencil skirt were acceptable, she felt completely underdressed. Yet from the appreciative way Rafe’s gaze kept sliding over her, he seemed to think she looked perfect. The notion made her want to squirm upon the wide, padded chair. Sure, she liked for men to think she was attractive, but Rafe was eyeing her as though he wanted to have her for dinner, rather than the prime rib he’d ordered.

  “Tell me, Lilly, have you always lived in Carson City?”

  “No. Up until I was three years old, we lived in St. George, Utah, but then my father’s job was transferred to Nevada. He’s a welder for the Virginia-Truckee railroad. My parents live just outside of Virginia City.”

  “So your parents are still together? Nowadays that’s quite a feat.”

  It was definitely a feat for Faye and Ron, she thought dourly. But she wasn’t about to delve into the problems her parents had endured in their marriage. She hated to even think of their battles, much less share them with someone like Rafe. His mother had been full of compassion and quiet, gentle grace whereas Faye was impatient, loud and critical. He wouldn’t understand a woman like Lilly’s mother. There were times that Lilly didn’t understand her, either, but in spite of Faye’s shortcomings, she loved her.

  She grimaced. “It’s pretty miraculous, all right.”

  He lifted the glass of beer to his lips and after a long drink, he said, “I understand you’ve met my dad, Orin. Has anyone told you that my mother died a few years ago?”

  “No one had to tell me,” she informed him. “I was actually acquainted with Claudia. In fact, I attended her funeral services.”

  For the first time since she’d met him, she saw a look of real surprise cross his face, which was immediately followed by a dark, almost brooding shadow.

  “You knew my mother? I never expected that.”

  She nodded while her gaze followed the movement of his hands as he placed the glass down on the tabletop. All night long, her eyes had kept returning to his long, tanned fingers with their short, clipped nails. He had strong hands with rough palms that caused a buzz of excitement each time they touched her skin. The thought of them moving over her with passion also had her wondering just how many women had experienced the touch of those hands and how many more he’d lured into his bed.

  “Claudia used to volunteer at Tahoe General. We—uh—would bump into each other from time to time. She was a lovely woman inside and out. I was so shocked when she took that fall in her home. But all the staff at the hospital expected her to fully recover.”

  His gaze dropped to the tabletop. “It was all so senseless, Lilly. She was carrying a basket of laundry down the stairs and took a bad step. We’ve always had maids for that sort of thing. There wasn’t any need for her to be doing it—but that’s the way she was—always busy and working.” He shook his head as though the whole incident was still hard for him to believe or accept. “The fall gave her a concussion, but she appeared to get over it quickly. She’d been discharged from the hospital and was back to her normal routine when she just collapsed and we couldn’t revive her. A blood clot had developed in her brain.”

  “I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt you and your whole family,” she said. “The only family members I’ve lost were my elderly grandfathers and they’d both been ill for a long time. So their passing was expected.”

  Rafe looked up and she could see how just talking about his mother had drained the sparkle from his gray eyes. His reaction made her wonder if he’d had an extra-close relationship with her.

  “Once she was gone, nothing was ever the same.” He looked off, his expression pensive. “I don’t normally talk about when Mom died. Not to anyone. But you’re a nurse. You understand. And I like you, Lilly.”

  As he spoke the last words, his gaze returned to hers, and Lilly felt her heart wince with a mixture of emotions. She’d not expected anything so serious to come out of Rafe’s mouth. He was a flirt and playboy. He was all about having fun. It was jarring to learn that he could hurt and feel as deeply as any poor, old Joe.

  “I’m not sure I understand any better than you why good people get injured or ill. Sometimes I go home from a long night of work and wonder what I’m doing. Sometimes I even tell myself I’m going to walk away from nursing and do something that won’t tear my heart apart.” Sighing, she reached for her glass. “But in the end I can’t. I want to help people.”

  A waitress arrived with their salads and they readied themselves to eat before Rafe picked up the conversation again.

  “I’m curious as to what made you want to be a nurse. It’s an admirable profession, but the workload and the stress would be hard for most people to handle.”

  “My grandmother, my father’s mom, has been a nurse for close to forty years. She’s sixty-seven now and still working at a hospital in Henderson.”

  “Wow. That’s dedication. Is she married?”

  Lilly nodded. “Why? Are you looking for an older woman for yourself? One that could nurse you back to health if need be?” she teased. “From my experience in E.R. you cowboys are always suffering cuts, broken bones and torn ligaments.”

  He grinned. “We do take some spills. But your grandmother sounds like the perfect wife for Dad. Not that he’s looking. But a couple of my brothers are looking for him.”

  Lilly seriously doubted that Rafe was looking for a wife, either. But that hardly mattered to her. This was just an evening out. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  “Grandma is special. From the time I was a little girl she was my heroine and still is. She’s steady as a rock, compassionate, yet firm when she has to be. One day I hope to be as good a nurse as she is.”

  “Dad told me that you don’t work in therapy anymore—you work in the E.R. That’s quite a switch, isn’t it?”

  She forked a piece of romaine lettuce. “I like the unexpected. And in the E.R. you never know what’s going to show up.”

  His gaze slipped over her face. “So you’re a girl who likes excitement.”

  She’d never thought of herself in those terms, but he must be right, otherwise she would’ve never agreed to this date.

  “I’d rather think I’m a girl who likes a challenge,” she said wryly.

  He chuckled. “Then you ought to like me, Lilly. A whole lot.”

  * * *

  More than an hour later, after coffee and a rich, decadent dessert, Rafe ushered Lilly into the club side of the restaurant where a long bar and several small tables gave way to a spacious dance floor.

  To one side of the dance area, an elevated platform in the shape of a half circle held a six-piece band. At the microphone, a woman with long black hair and a clingy red evening gown was belting out a torchy standard from the 1950s.

  Not bothering with a table, Rafe led her straight to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. At first, she kept a rigid distance away from him, but after h
e applied a gentle pressure against her back, she finally surrendered. And as her curves melted against him, he decided there was something very unique about Lilly Lockett. She was making him think about her instead of himself and all that needed to be done on the ranch in the coming days.

  “Now that is my kind of music,” he said as he nuzzled his cheek against the side of her blond hair. “Bluesy and soulful.”

  “I thought you cowboys were all guitars and twang.”

  “Hmm. We’re not cookie cutter, Lilly. I have three or four wranglers who love rock music. They turn the radio up so loud in the work trucks it blasts my eardrums. A few more like standards and one even goes for classical stuff. But there are country and western fans among the bunch, too. We’re an eclectic group.”

  “There goes my vision of you sitting around the campfire singing trail songs.”

  He chuckled and then went quiet as the sheer pleasure of having her in his arms took over his senses. She smelled like some sort of flower. A gardenia, he guessed, or maybe it was a rose. The only thing he knew about flowers was that a bunch of them could usually smooth an angry woman. And he’d dealt with plenty of those in his lifetime. Especially when he grew tired of one and didn’t take pains to give her a gentle send-off. Funny, but he couldn’t imagine himself getting tired of this one. She was beautiful and quick and something about her made him feel so damned protective. And that wasn’t like him. Not like him, at all.

  “Do you come here often?”

  Her question broke into his thoughts and he peered down at the shiny crown of her head. Her hair was like spun sunlight, all soft and golden. The morning he’d first spotted her on the stairs it had been confined in a bun at the back of her head. But tonight it was loose and curled ever so slightly against her shoulders, while a jagged fringe brushed her eyebrows. All evening he’d been itching to get his fingers into it and now that he had her close, he dared to roll a strand between his thumb and forefinger.

  “I rarely come here,” he answered.

  Her head tilted back in order to study his face. “Then why did you bring me?”

 

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