A Cowboy Summer (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  “You’re really good,” she said when they returned to their table with fresh drinks. She couldn’t believe how fast her wine had disappeared. Will’s can of beer, on the other hand, appeared untouched.

  He leaned close and whispered, “I assume you mean dancing.”

  His cheek brushed hers, his lips grazed her ear. A swirl of music—the inside kind—pulsed through her. “Of course,” she teased. “What else?”

  He stayed in whisper range, planting one hand on the table beside her. “You’re flirting with a dangerous man, Anne Fraser. I’ve just spent several weeks being good, and believe me, that’s a new personal best. Don’t tempt me unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”

  Was she? Tonight would be the perfect opportunity to take what he was offering. The idea had crossed her mind the second she decided to sleep on the couch in the office so Joy could be near Zoey. Tonight might well be Anne’s one and only chance for a little adult pleasure. Was that wrong? Possibly. Probably. But at the moment, she really didn’t care.

  She put her finger on the tip of his nose and let it trail downward, over his lips. “Consequences, huh? Such as?”

  He nipped her finger lightly. “A night of unrepentant passion.”

  “Would we need to repent in the morning?”

  “Only if it makes you feel better.”

  “How will you feel?”

  “Tired. A good kind of tired,” he added with a wink.

  Anne made up her mind. Right or wrong, she wanted him. She needed passion, intimacy, human contact. For months after her divorce she had craved not sex, but hugs. Now she wanted concrete proof that she wasn’t dried up inside. That she was a woman, desirable and alive. “How much longer do we have to stay here?”

  He pulled back, his eyes questioning. A slow grin spread across his ruggedly handsome face. “Thirty seconds. I just want to tell a couple of people goodbye. Stay put, okay?”

  Anne watched him walk away. She’d met her share of handsome men, but she’d never known one who moved with more command of presence—the kind of self-assurance that had nothing to do with ego and everything to do with experience. He risked life and limb for a dream. Anne had to respect his dedication even if she didn’t wholly understand the sport.

  “Are you going?” Linda said, drawing up a chair. “Already? Is something wrong at home?”

  Home. Anne glanced at her watch. She hadn’t thought about the Silver Rose in four hours. “Actually, I turned off my phone while the speaker was talking about bygone days and forgot to turn it back on. Will you hand me my purse? I’d better check my messages.”

  “If Zoey’s not the reason you’re leaving, then what…?” Linda’s question trailed off. “Ohmygosh. You and Will? You’re going to…to…”

  “Stargaze,” a deep voice provided.

  Linda shot to her feet. “Oh. Hi, Will. Stars, huh? Cool. Very cool. Count a few for me.” She swallowed a giggle. “I’m particularly fond of the Missionary constellation, myself. Some call it boring, but I say it all comes down to whom you’re stargazing with, if you know what…”

  “Damn,” Anne said, turning sharply. Her hand knocked over her plastic glass full of wine.

  Linda grabbed a wad of napkins. “What’s wrong?”

  “Joy called an hour ago. She was concerned about Zoey’s breathing.”

  Linda stopped blotting. “Did you call her back?”

  “I tried. The machine picked up.”

  Will didn’t ask what to do. He walked to the hatcheck counter and returned a moment later with his Stetson and Anne’s shawl. “Let’s go home. We’ll both feel better if we check this out. She’s probably fine, but why take any chances?”

  Anne blinked back tears as she gave Linda a hug. She’d never known a man who put Zoey’s health and her own feelings first. She couldn’t count all the times that Barry had pretended to be asleep while his daughter struggled for each and every breath.

  Perhaps out of habit, or because she didn’t trust any man to stick by her, Anne paused at the doorway. “I can drive back alone,” she said. “You don’t need to miss the rest of the party. If she’s sick, I’ll be up with her the rest of the night. No time for…um, stargazing.”

  He looked at her as if she’d suggested they blow up the capitol dome in Carson City. He put both hands on her upper arms and gently squeezed. “Listen, Anne, I’m not some hedonist who only cares about having a good time. I adore that little girl and I would never forgive myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to help.”

  “But…”

  He shook his head sternly, his frown harsh. “Don’t use Zoey’s illness as a wedge between us. If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. But don’t look at me like I’m you’re ex-husband. I’m here for you both. Now, get in the car.”

  WILL WAS PRETTY SURE he’d blown it. One minute he and Anne were flirting like teens, the next they were silent strangers. Normally, he wouldn’t have come on so strong to her suggestion that he stay at the party, but the inference—that he only wanted one thing from her—had wounded him deeply. Did Anne really think so lowly of him? Or did she expect the worst from men, in general?

  He wanted to ask but could tell by the way she twisted the beaded bag in her lap that now wasn’t the time for an in-depth analysis of their relationship. Besides, his gut was in knots, too. Emergency rooms, scalpels, needles and sutures were such a common part of rodeo life that Will didn’t give them a second thought—where his body was concerned. But picturing Zoey in respiratory distress, like that first morning when A.J. left, was enough to make his knees weak.

  He stepped on the gas. “A couple of the younger cowboys carry cell phones. I wish I’d thought to write down their numbers,” he said.

  “How would that help? Only a trained paramedic knows what to do when her airway is blocked.”

  Her voice sounded surprisingly strong and calm. “I meant that I could have one of them run up to the house to check on things. If Joy called an ambulance, we’re going miles out of our way when we should be headed to the hospital.”

  Anne let out a sigh. “I could be wrong, but I’m hoping that this is a false alarm. I tend to panic where Zoey is concerned, but Joy is very capable. Did you know one of her grandchildren had asthma as a child? He’s in his twenties now and very healthy.”

  Will didn’t know that. The only member of Joy’s family he’d ever met was Judy, who, from what he’d heard at the party tonight, was happily married and living in Alaska.

  Anne added, “If this had been a real emergency, I’m sure Joy would have asked one of the guests to come and get us. Don’t you think?”

  He eased off the gas. What she said made sense, but he couldn’t let go of the tension that gripped his insides. He wasn’t used to caring about someone else. And this little episode tonight proved to Will that his feelings for Anne and her daughter ran deeper than mere caring.

  The fact was he loved them.

  There, he thought, slowing to make the turn into the Silver Rose driveway. I said it.

  He loved Zoey and he was pretty sure he was in love with Anne. There’d always been something between them—familial, sexual or whatever—but what he felt now was too intense to be anything but love.

  Not that he intended to tell her. She had enough on her plate without fretting over his declaration of love.

  “I’m coming in,” he told her, pulling to a stop in front of the house. A cloud of dust enveloped them. “If we need to go to the hospital, I’ll call ahead to alert the emergency room.”

  “Okay,” she said, leaping out before the dust had settled. She left her purse and shawl on the seat. He turned off the engine and picked them up. As he walked to the house, he lifted the bundle to his face and inhaled her scent. Not perfume, but some indefinable quality so Anne that he could have picked her out of a lineup with his eyes closed.

  He was at the foot of the stairs before he realized something was wrong. The house was dark. No bluish stutter of televisio
n from the parlor windows. No lights in the kitchen or dining room. If this were a crisis, he would have expected a bustle of volunteers.

  Inside the foyer, he paused to listen. The creak of footsteps overhead told him Anne was in her room or Zoey’s, but apparently everyone else was asleep. He set Anne’s purse on the hall table, then hung her shawl and his hat on the coatrack before heading upstairs.

  He was concentrating on being quiet and didn’t realize Anne was standing at the top of the stairs until he bumped into her. She put her finger to her lips and motioned for him to go back downstairs.

  Was she shutting him out? He hesitated for a second then turned around. To his surprise, she followed.

  “Let’s talk in the office,” she said softly when they reached the foyer.

  Will’s curiosity mingled with relief. Whatever had happened, at least Zoey wasn’t in danger.

  Anne flipped on the overhead light and closed the door behind him. She leaned against it with a long sigh. “Turns out Joy overreacted. It must have been a minor attack. Joy said by the time she read through my emergency list, Zoey was already doing every step. She used her inhaler and went into the bathroom and ran the hot water so she could breathe the steam. She’s fine. Sleeping like a baby.”

  Will felt his tension dissipate. He let out a bark of relief. “That’s great. Why didn’t she call you back and tell you?”

  Anne looked down sheepishly. “Apparently, she did. I just listened to the first message and went ballistic. I’m sorry.”

  Will stepped to her and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t apologize. Your reaction was completely understandable. It was a big night and Zoey was excited. Frankly, it crossed my mind when we left that she seemed a bit wired. I’m just glad it didn’t turn into something more serious.”

  Anne gave him a peculiar look then slowly relaxed against him. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “Oh, yeah? That’s what everybody says. Everybody who doesn’t know me.”

  She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I know you, and I think you’re wonderful. Empathetic and kind. Pushy when needed. If you hadn’t driven me home, I probably would have had a wreck along the way. I kept seeing visions of Zoey choking and passing out.”

  Me, too. He squeezed her tighter. “But that didn’t happen. So, let it go. How ’bout a nightcap?”

  “Like what?”

  Will stepped back and looked around. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Gramps has some kind of liquor in the house. Esther was rather fond of a little toddy by the fire on a cold winter’s night.”

  He crossed the room to a cabinet near the fireplace. As he did, he noticed the pile of bedding at the foot of the big leather sofa. He’d forgotten about the arrangement— Joy was sleeping in Anne’s bed while Anne took the sofa. His mouth went dry.

  He misjudged the force necessary to open the sticky doors of the hutch. The bang made his heart jump. His hand was trembling when he reached inside for a bottle. Cognac. Did he like cognac? Did he care?

  He poured an inch of amber liquid into two glasses then turned around. Anne was standing in front of the map where A.J.’s trail of postcards was making progress across America’s heartland. “Try this,” he said. “Should be well aged if nothing else.”

  Her nose crinkled like a rabbit’s when she lifted the glass to her lips, but she closed her eyes and took a sip. Her wince wasn’t as prominent as he’d expected. “Not bad. My ex used to drink cognac. He thought it made him look classy.”

  Will polished his off in one gulp. The burn felt good. “I used to drink on a regular basis till I found out I don’t have the head for it. In my job, you need all the balance you can get. Alcohol messes with that.”

  Anne took another ladylike sip. She looked like a princess in her pretty yellow dress and sexy shoes, so beautiful it almost hurt him not to draw her into his arms and kiss her. But this was her call. He would make no moves until she gave him some kind of signal.

  “I’m seeing progress in your grandfather’s cards,” she said, turning toward the wall again. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

  We’re going to talk about A.J.? “He seems to make pretty good time each day.”

  “Not mileage—emotional healing. Each card seems a bit lighter in tone. And he says he misses us. That’s good.”

  “Why is that good? He still has a long way to go. Do you want him to be unhappy all the way to Maine?”

  She set the glass on the corner of the desk and walked to the wall. “No, of course, not, but it shows that he’s healing. Listen to this…” She plucked a card from central South Dakota. The photo was of a giant buffalo statue. She flipped it over and read aloud: “‘Dear family, Had breakfast at Al’s Oasis in Chamberlain this morning. Coffee was a nickel. Do you remember suggesting we raise buffalo on the Silver Rose, Will? Can’t recall now why we didn’t give it a try. They seem like an interesting animal. Bought you a book of Sioux legends, Miss Zoey. Maybe you can read me one when I get home.’”

  Looking up, she gave Will a satisfied smile. “See? He’s looking ahead. That’s a good sign. And he obviously misses us. Especially you.”

  “Especially me?”

  “Yes. He mentioned your name. That means he’s thinking about you. Men aren’t always real obvious with their feelings.”

  Will took a step closer. “There you go again making rash generalizations. It should be pretty obvious what my feelings are. You’re the one sending mixed signals. Do you want to clear those up for me?”

  She stood her ground, but Will could tell she was debating how to reply. After a pause—eight seconds, to be exact—she said, “What are the chances that we have a key for that door?”

  Will’s heart flipped and twisted. “As a matter of fact, I ran across one the other day. I meant to give it to you this morning when you mentioned that you planned to sleep in here. Guess I forgot.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  He gave her a slow grin. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got it.”

  Anne reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “Show me.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  ANNE FELT EIGHTEEN again. Nervous. Insecure about her body, her looks. But something was slightly different this time, and she was pretty sure it had to do with the way Will was looking at her. As if she were a genie who’d just granted him three wishes.

  While flattered and excited, she was also scared. What if she wasn’t good enough?

  “Um, I think it only fair to warn you that I’m not very accomplished in the art of making love,” she said, stumbling over her choice of words.

  She expected him to laugh. Instead, he rested his butt on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms. “Is that a standard disclaimer? Or do you think I’m some kind of cowboy gigolo?”

  She wondered if she’d somehow hurt his feelings. She walked to the grouping of chairs and sat down, her skirt making a poofy puddle around her. “I’m just being honest. I haven’t had a lot of experience in man-woman things, especially when it comes to sex.”

  “You were married. You have a child. Both are things I can’t claim.”

  “True, but my relationship with Barry was sort of…perfunctory. Even from the beginning when I told myself we were in love. I think for both of us marriage was a means to an end. We’d graduated from college. Had good jobs. Time to marry, right? Settle down?”

  “Perfunctory. What’s that mean? Businesslike?”

  Anne smiled. “Actually, that’s a good description. We were never an in-each-other’s-pocket kind of couple. We were independent, with separate agendas, and when our paths crossed we sometimes made love.”

  Will didn’t say anything but Anne could tell he didn’t approve. And she knew instinctively he would never settle for that kind of relationship. Just being his date for one night had proven that he took his connection to a woman seriously. From the minute they walked into the hall, Will had made it clear to everyone present that Anne was with him. And she’d liked the feeling. But in defense of her former
life, she added, “Believe it or not, that kind of relationship worked for us. We took great trips. Ate at marvelous restaurants. Seldom argued…until Zoey was born.”

  “Barry was an idiot.”

  Anne suddenly had a clear image of the last party she and Barry had attended. He’d left her at the door to “work the room.” Their paths never crossed until she sought him out to leave because their baby-sitter needed to get home. Anne remembered hearing someone ask, “They’re a couple? I never would have put the two of them together.”

  Will rolled his shoulders. “Was Barry the only guy you ever dated?”

  Anne looked at her hands clenched in her lap. “No.”

  “Was he the best?”

  She assumed he meant in bed. “No.” That title belonged to Eduardo, her impetuous fling in Spain.

  “I take it you were involved with someone before Barry,” Will said. “Was he married?”

  “Of course not.” I don’t think so. Although he was mysterious, and their meetings had been on the secretive side. She would go to his studio at a specified time. He’d paint. They’d eat bread and cheese and drink wine. Make love.

  “He was my winter break fling during my junior year of college. I spent a three-week internship in Spain.”

  Will nodded. “I remember hearing about that trip when I came home for Christmas. A.J. was afraid you’d fall in love with some ‘furinur.’”

  She did fall in love, almost from the moment Eduardo approached her in the small café and showed her the sketch he’d done of her face. The pencil drawing made her more beautiful than she was, but he swore that was how he saw her.

  “In retrospect, it was impossibly romantic and doomed from the start,” she said, picturing the cluttered loft where they overcame a language barrier and laughed and made love on the floor. She never met his friends or family. He told her they would have disapproved, and while this had hurt her feelings, Anne still agreed to pose for him in the nude.

  “He was my attempt to be cosmopolitan. I failed miserably. Instead of being glad that he didn’t ask me to rearrange my life and stay with him in Spain, I returned home with a broken heart and an oil painting I eventually gave to Goodwill.”