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 16

by Stella Bagwell


  His lips twisted to a sardonic line. “I live here. Remember?”

  His cutting attitude instantly stiffened her spine as she descended several steps toward him. “Sure. I remember. But this isn’t your normal hangout at this time of the morning.”

  “I was on my way up to see Dad. Not you.”

  She flinched inside but on the outside she managed to keep her expression stoic. This man didn’t need her. He only needed himself. She had to remember that.

  “I never imagined that you were,” she said stiffly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to the kitchen.”

  “Yes, I heard. For coffee and cinnamon rolls.” The look he was giving her was nothing less than a sneer. “Just exactly what are you doing, Lilly?”

  Her brows shot up as she tried to decipher the meaning of his question. “Doing? I’ve been giving your grandfather his morning therapy session. Now we’re finished and we’re going to enjoy a bit of a break before I leave for the day. Not that it’s any of your business,” she clipped.

  “Really? Well, I heard that little exchange between you and my grandfather. What’s going on with you, Lilly? Just because you can’t get your hooks in me, you’ve turned your claws toward my grandfather? If I thought for one minute—”

  Outraged, she interrupted. “You were eavesdropping on our conversation? You’re sick, Rafe! In more ways than one!”

  “I heard you agree to go on a date with the old man!” he accused.

  “So what? It sure as heck isn’t any of your business who I go out with. And that includes Bart.”

  “Why, you little money-grubbing—”

  She wasn’t about to let him finish. She cracked her palm hard against his jaw. “Get away from me, you monster!”

  Taking advantage of his stunned reaction, she started to shoot past him, but he instantly grabbed her by the arm and jerked her back to him. The sudden movement rocked her off balance and caused her to nearly topple forward.

  Snatching a grip on both her shoulders, he pulled her safely to him and for a moment he simply held her. Above her head, Lilly could hear his harsh breathing and beneath her cheek his heart was pounding wildly. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but she knew she had to get away from him and quick. Otherwise, she’d be throwing her pride aside.

  Prying her hands between them, she pushed at his chest. “You can let me go now,” she said between gritted teeth.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  Darting a glance up at him, she opened her mouth to reply, but he didn’t give her the chance. Instead, his head swooped down and the next thing she knew he was kissing her with hungry persuasion. Lilly couldn’t push him away. Not when every cell in her body was crying to hold on to him and never let go. But thankfully after a moment he lifted his head and sanity rushed in to gather her scattered senses.

  “Oh, Lilly,” he said in a tortured whisper. “This rift between us is killing me!”

  “Take two aspirins and put your feet up. You’ll get over it.”

  Ignoring his shocked expression, she jerked away from him and hurried on down the stairs. Behind her, she could hear the clank of his spurs, but she didn’t allow herself to look over her shoulder to see if he was coming after her or going on up the stairs. One way or the other, she couldn’t let herself care anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Three days later, Lilly and Marcella met in the hospital to have lunch together before their shift began. As they ate, Marcella caught her up on the progress Jett Sundell had made in her effort to adopt Peter.

  “Mr. Sundell is a father, you know, so I think he understands what adopting Peter means to me. He’s been working hard on my case. If things go as planned, in the next few days I’ll be taking Peter home as my foster son. And hopefully, later on, a complete adoption will happen.”

  It was good to see the smile on her friend’s face. Marcella had been through a few tough years. She deserved some happiness in her life. “Marcella, that’s great news. I’m so happy for you.”

  From across the table, Marcella cast her a skeptical glance. “Are you, really? When I first talked to you about Peter, you didn’t seem all that keen on the idea.”

  Lilly waved a dismissive hand at her. “I hadn’t had time to think—I was only concerned about you raising two boys alone. Now that I have thought it through, I believe it will be a good thing for you, Harry and Peter. Besides, you’re not always going to be a single mother. Some man is going to come along and snatch you up.”

  “Hah! If I can’t find one who wants a divorcée with one child, how do you expect me to find one willing to take on a divorced woman with two children?”

  “It would take a special man, all right,” Lilly admitted. “But he’s out there somewhere. You’ll find him.”

  “Sure. I’ll have to find him on a gurney. Delirious with fever,” Marcella said with a laugh, then slanted a pointed look at Lilly. “We’ve not had much time to talk these past few days. I’m curious to know what’s going on with Mr. Calhoun.”

  “You mean Bart? He’s coming along wonderfully. In fact, my job with him will be finished soon. And I’m—well, I’m feeling torn about that.”

  “How so?”

  Lilly shrugged as her gaze dropped to the partially eaten salad on her plate. “I’m very happy that Bart has recovered so nicely. His mobility is back to eighty or more percent—a miracle after the shape he was initially in after the stroke.”

  “I’d be feeling pretty proud of myself and him.”

  Lilly sighed. “I am. But I’m going to miss him terribly. You know, everyone warned me that he was going to be a terror. Instead, I’ve grown very fond of him. And I think he feels the same way about me.”

  Marcella studied her closely. “Actually, I wasn’t talking about Bart. I want to know about Rafe.”

  Just the mention of the man’s name was enough to send a chill rushing over Lilly. “I couldn’t tell you anything about Rafe,” she said stiffly. “Other than I never plan to see the man again.”

  Marcella’s mouth flopped open. “Lilly! What—oh, damn, my phone is vibrating. I’d better see who’s calling.” She pulled the device from a pocket on her uniform and after a quick glance pushed her chair back from the table. “Sorry, Lilly, would you hate me for cutting lunch short? It’s Mom and I need to talk to her in private—my brother is having some serious problems and—”

  “Don’t apologize. You go on,” Lilly assured her. “I’ll meet you back in emergency.”

  With a grateful smile, Marcella hurried away and Lilly tried to turn her attention back to her meal, but now that Marcella had brought up the subject of Rafe Calhoun, her stomach wasn’t in the mood.

  Running into him on the staircase the other day had been bittersweet. She couldn’t deny that she missed him terribly, or that being in his arms, even for those few seconds had been precious. But he’d made it clear how he felt about her. No plans or promises. Enjoy today because there probably wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Well, she couldn’t live like that. Not anymore. Now she realized exactly how much she needed someone to share her life with. How much she wanted a husband and children. It would probably take her a long time to get over Rafe and finally find a man she could love. Especially one who would want to settle down and make a family with her. But she wasn’t going to give up and settle for less.

  “I see you lost your lunch partner. Mind if I sit down until she’s back?”

  The male voice jerked Lilly out of her melancholy thoughts and she glanced up to see Chet Anderson standing at the side of the small round table.

  “Hello, Chet. Please join me. Marcella won’t be back.”

  He eased into the chair that Marcella had just vacated and pushed the plate with a half-eaten sandwich aside. Since he didn’t have a lunch tray with him, Lilly asked, “Aren’t you going to
eat?”

  He grimaced. “I’m actually on my way to a business luncheon across town. But as I walked by I spotted you here and wanted to say hello. How are things going with Doctor Sherman?”

  Lilly smiled ruefully. “No more problems, thank goodness. Actually, he’s seemed a little subdued since that confrontation.”

  Chet shook his head with misgivings. “I’m trying to keep an open mind about the man, Lilly. He’s not from this area and who knows what’s been going on in his private life. I’m hoping he’ll pull it all together and become a respected doctor on the hospital staff.”

  Lilly thoughtfully used her straw to stir the sugar in the bottom of her tea glass. “Yeah, well, we all have our problems, but that doesn’t mean we can take them to work with us.”

  As miserable as she’d been these past few weeks without Rafe in her life, she’d done her best not to let it interfere with her work. When another’s health was involved, she didn’t have the luxury to dwell on her own personal feelings. And that was a good thing. Because the thought of never making love to Rafe again was like never seeing the sun or the stars again. But she’d get over it. She had to.

  “So is that man of yours still making you happy?” Chet inquired.

  Glancing across the room, Lilly stared unseeingly at the people passing through the cafeteria line. “I’m not seeing him anymore,” she said bluntly.

  Clearly surprised, he said, “Oh. Well, I’m sorry.” As soon as the words were out, he shook his head. “No. That’s not true. I’m glad. Maybe now you’ll think about having dinner with me one night soon.”

  And why not, Lilly asked herself. Chet was the complete opposite of Rafe. He wasn’t obscenely rich or from ranching royalty. He wasn’t a playboy or a rakish rascal. He was the steady, predictable sort. Yet he didn’t make her heart beat fast or her body ache with longing. And perhaps that was a good thing, she thought dismally. Wouldn’t a long, practical marriage be better than a brief, passionate affair?

  “I can only promise that I’ll think about it,” she said solemnly. She tried to give him a smile, but from the look on his face, she wasn’t fooling him any more than she was herself.

  “Lilly, as much as I’d like a chance with you, if this guy really means that much to you—then maybe you should try—”

  “There’s nothing to try,” she cut in. “We have different ideas about things.”

  He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, but unlike Rafe’s, the touch was like that of a comforting friend. “You know where to find me if you need to talk. Or if you need anything at all.”

  She nodded. “Thanks, Chet.”

  “See you later.”

  He left the table and though Lilly watched him walk away, all she could see was Rafe.

  * * *

  Later that same afternoon, Rafe was at the vet barn, looking on while the doctor treated a bull with an infected horn when his father walked up beside him. The sight of Orin in the vet barn was highly unusual and took Rafe by surprise.

  Since Rafe’s mother had died, his father had abruptly quit all outside work and started behaving as though he was too old to endure the rigor of wrangling. He’d turned his favorite horse out to pasture, hung up his spurs and now spent his days indoors doing paperwork or traveling on business matters.

  Rafe had missed the camaraderie of working side by side with his father and as a result he’d felt as though his mother’s death had ultimately caused him to lose his father, too.

  “Hey, Dad, what brings you down here? I thought you were going to Ely today to look at some cattle.”

  From the stern look on Orin’s face, Rafe supposed it would be foolish to hope this unexpected visit from his father meant he was finally returning to the man he used to be.

  “I had planned to already be on my way,” Orin said, his voice clipped. “But I’ve had a few distractions this morning.”

  Now what? Rafe wondered miserably. Ever since he’d walked out of Lilly’s house, everything on the ranch had seemed to go sour, and though he kept telling himself he’d get over this wretchedness he was feeling, each day that passed without her only seemed to make it worse.

  “What kind of distractions?” Rafe made himself ask.

  Orin jerked his head toward the open doorway behind them. “Let’s go to my truck. I need to talk with you.”

  Rafe was thirty years old and had worked as the Silver Horn foreman for the past five of those. He was a grown man and yet his father still had a tendency to order him around as though he was a little boy. The fact irked him, but he tried his best not to show it.

  “Denver is meeting me over at the horse barn in ten minutes,” he explained to his father.

  “This won’t take that long,” he said briskly, then turned and strode away, fully confident that Rafe would follow.

  Taking a deep, bracing breath, Rafe took one last glance at the bull, then took off after Orin.

  Outside, the sun was fierce with only a stray cloud here and there to offer any sort of relief from the heat. By the time Rafe reached his father’s diesel truck, Orin was already perched beneath the steering wheel. The windows were up and the motor idling.

  Rafe climbed inside and shut the door to keep the cold, air-conditioned air trapped inside the cab. “Okay. I’m here. What’s going on?”

  Orin stared straight ahead. “You fired James, Shane and Jeb for asking for a day off. I—”

  “That’s right,” Rafe butted in. “They all three knew what was going on at the time and—”

  “I don’t need to hear the details, Rafe! I just thought you ought to know I’ve hired them back. And you—”

  Boiling blood instantly shot to the top of Rafe’s head. “Hired them back! Damn it all, how am I supposed to demand any respect from my men if you undermine me like this?”

  Orin leveled a black stare at his son. “Respect? Let me tell you, son, the way you’ve been behaving, you’re not going to get anything from the men. Not even any work. I had to practically beg those three to come back. And half of the remaining crew are threatening to walk off.”

  Rafe felt like his father had reached across the console and gave him a hard whack on the side of the head. “Walk off? What are you talking about?”

  Orin shook his head with disbelief. “You didn’t know, did you? But that’s not surprising. Denver tells me the men can’t talk to you anymore. He says you’ve changed and that you’re either biting their heads off or giving them unreasonable orders.”

  Denver had been his right-hand man for as long as Rafe had been foreman. To hear that the other man had gone over his head and spoken to Orin about this problem was like a kick in the gut to Rafe. Did he actually deserve this? Sure, he’d been driving the men a little hard, but not any more than he’d been driving himself.

  “So he—” The furious words on the tip of Rafe’s tongue suddenly died as a lost, lonely feeling swept through him. Was there anyone that even gave a damn that his whole world was crashing in on him?

  No one knows your world is crumbling, Rafe. You’ve been going around hiding your pain behind a wall of anger. You have too much pride to admit to anyone that Lilly has walked out of your life. That you weren’t man enough to hold on to her.

  “Sounds like everyone thinks I’m one big mess-up,” he said dourly.

  Disgust marred Orin’s dark features. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Rafe groaned. “Look, Dad, everything I do is for the ranch. The heat has played hell with the grass. The cattle are my first priority. It’s not like I enjoy laying the law down to the men. But things have to get done.”

  Orin’s nostrils flared and Rafe couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father this upset with him. Probably not since Rafe had been a teenager. Which only made this tête-à-tête even more humiliating.
r />   “At what cost, Rafe? The men who work this ranch are more than just machines! They have personal lives, too. They have their own issues to deal with—just like you do. You’ve been so wrapped up in yourself that you seem to have forgotten that. I’m going to be damned frank, son. You either get your head on straight or I’m going to step in and take over for you.”

  Rafe stared in wonder at his father, while his mind tried to picture his life as something other than the Horn foreman. With Lilly gone, the ranch was the only thing he had left to push him forward. Now he was in jeopardy of losing it.

  “Listen, Dad, I’ll admit that I might have jumped the gun with those three firings. But I’ve not ever asked the men to work any harder or put in more hours than I do myself. As for you—I’m not sure that you—” He broke off abruptly as he realized there wasn’t any kind way of telling his father that the daily rigors of the foreman job would be too much physical stress for him to handle.

  Orin scowled at him. “That I can hold up to long hours in the saddle anymore? If that’s what you were about to say, then you’d better think again, Rafe! I’m not ancient,” he muttered, then added under his breath, “Although you boys probably think I am. And that’s my own fault. But things are going to change around here.”

  Rattled by Orin’s forewarnings, he searched his father’s face. Had Rafe been so wrapped up in himself that he’d not noticed how his father was changing? Had losing Lilly blinded him that much?

  “What does that mean?” Rafe asked him.

  Orin’s jaw remained tight. “The fact is—I’m not happy with you or myself.”

  Rafe heaved out a heavy breath. It was already bad enough that he’d lost Lilly and alienated his men. Being at loggerheads with his father would pretty much paint the rest of his sky black.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll make it right with the men. There’s no need for you to drag out your spurs or put in long hours with the crew.”

  Orin’s heavy sigh was full of resignation. “This isn’t all about keeping a rein on you, Rafe. Even though you’ve been behaving like a jackass, I happen to believe you’re going to get your head on straight—eventually. I’m going to trust you to keep the men happy and working. I’m thinking in the long-term now—I need to get my thumb back on the pulse of the ranch again—for a lot of reasons.”

 

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