A Cowboy for Lynne: Cameron Family Saga

by Shirley Larson

  That might call for some of the best acting I’d ever done in my life.

  I was just thinking of having a nice hot bath when my cell phone rang. I’d given John my number so he could contact me if the vandals came back.

  “Lynne, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you need to come to the theater right away. The downstairs dressing rooms are filling up with water. Bring a flashlight, your electricity is out.”

  I grabbed up my coat and was at the front door of the hotel, searching in my purse for my keys when I realized I didn’t have them. Just then my little rental pulled up, and a guy in jeans and cowboy boots got out. At first I thought it was Jake. Then I realized this man must be his younger brother. “Hi. I‘m Gabe.” Those brown eyes had mischief in them. “Are you Lynne?” He held out the keys.

  “Yes.” Just as I went to grab them, he lifted them up out of my reach. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “Actually, the theater is going down like the Titanic. And the longer we stand here talking, the lower it will sink. Thanks for bringing my car back. I appreciate it.”

  Gabe opened the door for me and held it open even after I jumped in and fastened my seat belt. “Don’t you want some help?”

  “Have you got a shop vac? Go home and get it. I’ll meet you at the theater. And a flashlight. Bring a flashlight. The electricity is out.” I pulled the door shut and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Gabe stood looking after her, shaking his head. “If the electricity is out, what the hell are you going to do with a shop vac?”

  Inside the theater, it was black as night with my flashlight beam nearly swallowed up in the darkness. “Where are you, John?”

  “Down here in the dressing rooms.”

  Playing my flashlight beam over the empty seats and the stage, I searched for the staircase to the dressing rooms. I found it, and nearly tumbled down the last three steps that were a bit uneven. My own reflection came eerily back at me from the mirror installed in the first dressing room. When I hit bottom, my heart dropped. I’d stepped into what had to be about eight inches of water.

  “Why is there so much water here, John?”

  “Lightning took out your electricity. Sump pump isn’t working. When it rains hard the way it has all day, ground water gets filled up. Sump pump is supposed to take care of it.”

  I ran my flashlight around the dressing rooms. They were open on one side with curtain rods containing the remnants of privacy curtains. I chastised myself for not coming down to see this when Jake and I were here. He’d been too much of a distraction.

  “What do I do?”

  “I’ve already called the electric company. My guess is they’ve got trouble everywhere. If we don’t want this place to fill up right to the ceiling, we’d better start bailing. The higher up the water comes, the more damage you’re looking at. I got a couple of buckets.”

  “Where are we going to dump it?”

  “We’ll have to haul it up the stairs and dump it in that back lot…and hope it doesn’t seep in the ground faster than we can haul it out.”

  We began to fill the buckets, and I realized I was in for a night of back-breaking work. But before we’d done much, I heard noise upstairs in the main auditorium. I stood at the bottom of the stairs debating about whether to go and accost a marauder, when a huge lantern shone in my face. Cowboy boots clomped down the stairs and there was Gabe. Leslie followed…and so did Jake.

  “Mom’s upstairs with food and drink, setting it up on the stage. Whew, what a mess. Gosh, it stinks.” Leslie set another battery lantern on a dressing room counter. It was much easier to see the swirl of the muddy water.

  “The glamorous life of a stage actress,” Jake said, not missing the opportunity to rag on Leslie, “How are you liking it so far?”

  I’d been so focused on getting the water up I hadn’t noticed the smell. It was bad. Mold mixed with toilet water.

  Here I was in this watery, smelly basement, with my hair tangled about my head and here was Jake, looking and smelling like he’d just walked out of a shower. Which he probably had. Why was it the minute he came anywhere near me I lost the ability to think coherently?

  “I brought the shop vac,” Jake said.

  My laugh was only slightly hysterical. “That would be great…if we had electricity.”

  “Okay, then,” said my cowboy rescuer, “let’s make like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice and get this water hauled out of here. I…” dramatic pause, “thought to bring buckets.”

  “I’m in love,” I said, laughing.

  He brushed past me and in that low husky voice murmured in my ear, “Don’t I wish you meant it.”

  “Behave,” I said, giving him a poke with my elbow. Right now, I could forgive Jake Rutledge anything. “You can have your knights in shining armor, I’ll take a man who comes ready to bail out the sinking ship any day.”

  Jake laughed and passed out the buckets. John, Leslie and I scooped up the muddy water. Gabe and Jake did the hard part of hauling the buckets up the stairs and emptying them. With so many people working, we made headway quickly, but then as the water level went down, it was harder to get any amount of water into our buckets.

  Finally John went to his place and brought back a mop. He swabbed the floor and wrung the mop and Jake hauled the half full bucket up the stairs and dumped it. By now, John was pretty beat and I was beginning to worry about him. I urged him to go home and get whatever sleep he could.

  In another hour we were all down on our hands and knees, Leslie, Jake, Gabe and I, wiping the floor with old towels John furnished. By that time, we were a little punchy. Gabe started it. He towel whipped Leslie on her rear. Leslie retaliated by swiping Gabe with her wet towel full in his face.

  Jake turned to me, snapping his towel. “Oh, no,” I said. I‘m wet enough. You stay right where you are.”

  Of course he didn’t. He came at me, and just when I braced myself for a wet towel in the face, he swung it over my head and brought me close to him. “Jake. I’m way wetter and dirtier than you are…”

  He stopped my protest by kissing me. When Gabe cleared his throat, and Leslie giggled, Jake lifted his head and said, “You two go on upstairs. Mom’s waiting for you.”

  So Gabe and Leslie crept by us, leaving us along in the wetness. “Jake, that towel is making my back really cold.”

  He dropped the towel and slid his hand under my shirt and up my spine. “I’ll make you warm.”

  “We can’t be doing this. They’re waiting for us upstairs.”

  “I know.” He brought my mouth up to his again. “I love sump pumps,” he said.

  “What? As a romantic declaration, that leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Especially when they don’t work.” He kissed me again, and I, caught up in the throes of gratefulness, kissed him back. At least I thought that’s what it was.

  “Jake. I need a hot shower.”

  “Umm. I need a cold one.”

  “I could arrange that. There must be another bucket of water around here somewhere…” I moved to step out of his arms, but he caught me back.

  “Lynne. Am I forgiven?”

  I looped my arms around his shoulders. “You think a few buckets of water is going to save you?”

  “I was hoping.”

  “Let’s just say they didn’t hurt. Now we’d better go upstairs before Gabe comes down and finds us kissing again.”

  “Damn brother,” Jake muttered and stole another quick kiss before he released me.

  Upstairs, the Rutledge family, my midnight saviors, laughed and chatted and teased each other. It occurred to me that every family has a slightly different dynamic. Perhaps because of Dad’s dying and Hunter’s seriousness, our family stayed focused on getting things done. Jake’s family seemed to be able to work and enjoy each other at the same time. I envied that.

  When I got up on Monday morning, the sun was shining, a bright Florida sunshine pouring into my hotel room. I decided that after breakf
ast, I’d swing by the theater to see if the dressing room floor had stayed dry during the night.

  I pulled into a parking space across from the theater, and that sweet little old red truck was there. And so was that sweet little old cowboy.

  I ignored him, ordered my heart to stop doing that thing, and unlocked the theater door. As I opened it, he came in behind me. And there he was, two inches from me in the half light of the lobby, looking rested and well-groomed and sexy as all hell in his close fitting jeans.

  I really wanted to pull him into my arms. To keep from grabbing him, I grabbed the broom that was left in a corner and started sweeping, even though the lobby was pretty well cleaned out.

  “Lynne. I thought you’d forgiven me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” I started sweeping again, purposely sweeping three pointy live oak leaves up onto his boots. “You’re in my way.”

  Mistake. I should never have ventured this close to him. He snatched the broom out of my hands, tossed it aside with a clatter, and pulled me into his arms. ‘All right.” We were nose to nose and his expression was not very lover like. “Put yourself in my place. The last woman I let get close to me knew I had money. That was all she wanted. I wanted to see how a woman would react to me if she thought I was a poor ranch hand. Can you blame me?”

  “Yes.” I used my arms and levered myself away from him a little. “You could have trusted me.”

  “I didn’t know you,” he said with frustrated emphasis. “How could I know a big city woman would blow into my life who was too damn good to be true?”

  I felt as if he were using all the control he had not to shake me.

  He tried again. “I regret that we got off on the wrong foot. What more can I say?”

  He was so alive, so real that I almost gave in to him…and to the urge I had to pull him into my arms and kiss the life out of him. But I knew I couldn‘t give in to the hunger he aroused in me. “You can promise that you’ll help me keep this relationship on a strictly professional footing,” I said in my most impersonal voice, my head high, my height allowing me to look him straight into his eyes.

  We stood there in the lobby with the aura of bygone drama swirling around us and for a minute I thought he was actually going to agree to my ridiculous demand.

  Then he said, “Like hell I will.” And he pulled me into his arms and took my mouth with a determination that I matched with a fierce passion of my own. Looking slightly dazed, he lifted his head. “You talk a big game of keeping it cool,” he said huskily, “but you don’t mean a word of it.”

  “Not a word,” I whispered, and went back to kissing him, exploring his mouth, tasting him, wanting to taste more.

  When I moved my mouth down to the hollow of his throat, his grip on my arms tightened, and he lifted me away from him. “Much as I like the direction you’re headed with that luscious mouth of yours, this isn’t the best place for breaking the rules.”

  It was almost as if I were coming out of a trance. When I was near Jake, all I thought about was being in his arms, kissing him, holding him.

  “What were you going to do today?”

  He was asking me to think prosaic thoughts like my plans for today? His recovery time was certainly better than mine. But a quick visual check of his jeans told me he hadn’t recovered, at least not entirely. “I was going to go downstairs to see if the sump pump was working now that the electricity is back on. Then I was going to measure the space for my desk upstairs and go shopping at second hand stores.”

  “Sounds like a pretty exciting day.” He gestured for me to go ahead of him into the auditorium.

  Did this mean he was here to spend the day with me? Not a good idea. “Shouldn’t you be out on the range, tending your cows?”

  We‘d reached the stair well, and I descended into the dusky darkness, one step and then two. His hand was on my back, possessive, burning my flesh.

  “You do more worrying about my cows. Trust me, they can get along without me quite nicely.”

  “And so can I,” I said. Just then I reached that treacherous third step and would have gone head long if he hadn’t snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me back into his body. Oh, yeah. Definitely not recovered yet. He held on to me just a little too long, pressing me back against him, making the tingling start in the dark places of my body.

  “Turns out you need me after all….to keep you from falling.”

  I don’t know why I stood there for that second too long, enjoying that hard arm around my waist and that other hard part against my back. I just knew that little nudge was meant to make me acknowledge the truth, that we were attracted to each other. I forced myself to pull away from him and continue down the stairs, entering that basement that was so dark it was as if I’d thrown a blanket over my head. I groped for a light switch, but Jake got there ahead of me. The light came on, and he slipped by me to stand on the floor and hold out his hand to me. “The floor is damp. Watch your step.”

  I took his hand thinking I’d never known a more intriguing man. One minute he was pressing suggestively against me and the next he’s Sir Galahad.

  He led me along the passageway. “The standing water is gone but it’s still damp down here. I guess we’d better get a couple of electric fans and see if we can dry this place out.”

  I fought to follow his lead into the business of the day. “I’ll add them to my shopping list.”

  You’re think we were old friends, just talking prosaically about the theater. But the sexual tension was there. Still holding my hand, he turned around to face me. Now he reached for my other one. Then he did an odd thing. He put both my hands on his shoulders. “Feel these,” he said, releasing his grip on me, letting my hands stay where they were. “These shoulders are broad. They’ve carried a lot of responsibility over the years. Do you think a man with two sisters, one of whom idolizes you, would do anything to hurt you?”

  He sounded so reasonable. I wasn‘t sure I wanted reasonable. “I know what you want, Jake.”

  His face changed and he got that dark sensual look that destroyed my insides. “Don’t you want it, too?”

  I groped for something, anything to keep myself on an even keel. Otherwise I was going to lose this battle. “I’m just not sure. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

  “All the more reason for you to share the burden with me.” He clasped my waist in his big capable hands and set me up on one of the counters. I was surprised there was something left down here sturdy enough to hold my weight. He walked in between my legs, almost but not quite touching my core. “If I wanted to, I could take you right here.”

  I started to protest, but he put his lips to my throat. “Don’t let the lie come out of that lovely voice of yours. You know it’s true. But it’s going to be hard for you to admit it, isn’t it? Because even though you come from a large family, and have lots of adoring fans, you hide who you really are under your acting ability. You’re a lone wolf, Miss Lynne Cameron. So very alone. Give me a chance, sweetheart. Let me show you what it‘s like to be with me.”

  He brought me into his body and my arms slid around his neck and my legs around his hips without any conscious effort on my part. Our mouths met. He nibbled lightly on my lower lip while I tried to playfully dislodge him with my tongue. He caught mine with his and thrust into my mouth in the perfect rhythm of love. I sat with my arms and legs entwined around him and was the recipient of that evocative love making. And all I could think of was that I wanted the real thing. I wanted to be under him, looking up at him while he came inside me. I wanted to feel that shuddering release that I had never quite felt before. Here was a man who was the perfect blend of mastery and consideration for his lover. Perhaps at last I would experience a climax, something that had been so elusive to me.

  But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t know the full story of how low Richard had brought me. What if he got hold of one of those tabloids? I couldn’t bear to see the
look in his eyes, thinking it was all true. I dropped my arms and legs and pushed him back.

  “You’re going to run,” he said huskily. “But the question is, how far will you run?”

  “You don’t know me,” I said. “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you ran from New York because you had a man stalking you. What I don’t know is how much damage he did to your soul.” He put his hand to my cheek with a sweet lover’s touch. “If I thought your experience with him was keeping you from trusting me, I’d go back to New York and rip his thatched blond head from his neck.”

  I was shocked. “How do you know what Richard looks like?”

  He hadn’t wanted to get into this. He hadn’t wanted to remind her of that night. “I was outside the theater the night he accosted my sister…and you.”

  “You were there? Wait, I remember now. Of course that was you. How could I have forgotten?”

  I didn’t want to believe it. He’d been there, seen Richard in action. Now he was here, taking me in his arms, kissing me, telling me he wanted to make love to me. He seemed real, genuine. But I didn’t know who he was, not really. Suddenly, another thought occurred to me. “Is it possible…you didn’t by any chance call my brother, did you?”

  The silence stretched. Finally he said, “Yes.”

  “My God. You protected me that night, you enticed me into baring my soul to you the very first time we met, you convinced the board to hire me and now you’re trying to seduce me. You’ve inserted yourself in every part of my life and you’ve been doing it since that night outside the theater.”