by Linda Warren
“You been studying up on rodeo, have you?” A smile played at the corners of his lips.
“I might have caught a few episodes on ESPN,” she admitted. “Some of those cowboys are h-o-t.” She fanned herself.
A large helping of green-eyed envy mixed with the humor in Colt’s eyes. “Never thought of you as a buckle bunny.”
“A what?” She laughed and prodded a muscular biceps.
“You don’t even want to know.” Colt cleared his throat. “Mike and Dave suggested your talents were wasted on the Circle P. That you could do better somewhere else.”
“I’ve had offers,” she admitted. After ruining the Circle P’s cookbook, she’d circulated her résumé. A four-star in Fort Lauderdale had offered full control of their kitchen, plus a nice salary bump. “But I like it here.” She gestured toward the darkness beyond the fire. When Colt slung one arm across her shoulders, she peered up at him, batting her lashes like a doe-eyed schoolgirl. “If I’d known you back then, would I have been jealous?”
“Nah.” Colt rested his chin atop her head while they watched the fire. “Some of the guys, they knocked boots with every filly that gave them a come-hither look. Me, I never saw the appeal in all that casual sex. There were women—I’m not a saint. But I reckon I hadn’t found the right one.” He paused then, his arm slipping around her waist while his long fingers possessed her from hip to breast, exactly the way she wanted. So softly, she almost missed it, he whispered, “I have now, though.”
“You trying to say something, cowboy?” She snuggled closer.
“Yeah, I guess I am. I love you, Emma Shane. I want us to be together.”
Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. She’d known from the moment Colt stepped in front of her, shielding his mom from the truth about the ruined cookbook, that underneath his gruff exterior, he hid a soft, tender heart. One she could love. Her feelings had deepened with every second they’d spent together over the past month, every kindness he’d shown Bree. At some point—she couldn’t pinpoint when exactly—she’d realized she’d fallen head over heels for this man, though she’d been reluctant to say the words until she knew for certain he felt the same way. Free to finally confess her own feelings, she exhaled slowly. “I love you, too, Colt Judd. More than I ever thought possible.”
She squared around, her focus locked on the flames reflected in his eyes as he slowly bent toward her. The kisses he feathered across her forehead were entirely unsatisfactory. She longed to have his lips on hers, and tipped her face to his. Still, he hovered over her, teasing her with his breath, his closeness. Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly wait another second, he leaned in for a kiss.
He tasted of vanilla with a touch of caramel that brought another round of tears to her eyes. Their tongues danced, and she twined her hands around his neck. She brushed her fingers through his hair, smiling as she recalled his insistence that the silky strands were in need of a trim. She inhaled. A feeling that she’d finally arrived slipped over her as she drank in a blend of sun and grass and Colt’s own scent.
When he eased beneath the hem of her shirt, she gasped at the feel of his work-roughened hands against her bare skin. Each hard ridge, each callus, stirred sensations she’d never known before as he trailed his fingers over her waist. One by one, he climbed her ribs while her breasts tightened in anticipation. It had been so long—too long—since she’d felt a man’s touch, and she gave herself over to the pleasure of each caress, reveling at being in the arms of the one she loved.
Soon, though, even that wasn’t enough. Not by far. The urge to touch, to feel his skin pressed against hers, grew so insistent she ran her fingers over Colt’s thin T-shirt. Her heart pounding, she traced a seam to his belt and tugged. Her breath grew shallow, and she moaned his name when she finally pressed her hand against the hard planes of his wide chest.
She froze, gasping, when the screened door of the bunkhouse squeaked open. With a raspy thud, a log collapsed into the fire. It sent up a shower of sparks. Not fifty feet from where they sat, the door slapped shut. Boots scuffed across the dry grass as she and Colt stifled giggles while they hurried to straighten their clothes.
“Mr. Colt. Ms. Emma.” Josh stepped out of the shadows, his bedroll in his arms. “Thought I’d stay out here tonight. Keep an eye on the fire. I probably won’t sleep anyway. I’m too worked up about tomorrow. Ms. Emma, we havin’ breakfast tomorrow? That dinner tonight was mighty fine, but I got a powerful hankering for your biscuits.”
Emma used the time while Josh rambled to steady her breath.
“What time, Josh?” she said, smiling at a secret joke. She’d set Doris’s blue tins aside lately in order to perfect her own biscuit-making technique. The ones she produced were lighter and fluffier. Better yet, the ranch hands craved them.
“Early.” Colt cleared his throat. “Josh says we need to hit the trail before first light in order to see the spoonbills when they take off.”
“I bet that’s something.” She tried to imagine thousands of birds taking to the air at one time, and failed.
“You should come with us, Ms. Emma. You won’t regret it, I swear.” Josh unfurled his bedroll a short distance from the fire.
She checked with Colt, who nodded his approval. “Okay, then, I think I will.” She eyed the young man whose presence had brought an abrupt end to Colt’s kisses. “I’ll need to get to bed, though, if I’m going to have things ready in the morning.”
Colt stood, pulling her to her feet along with him. “Guess we’ll leave you to it, Josh.” His arm around her waist, he took a couple of steps toward the bunkhouse before he turned back to the boy. “Good job today.”
The kid shrugged. “I had a great time. Mike and Dave, they seemed like they liked it, too.”
“You know, if these birding tours are a hit, guiding them might turn into a permanent job for you.”
“No more herding cattle?” The kid looked up, his eyes alight.
“Well, now. I wouldn’t go quite that far.” A deep chuckle bubbled out of Colt’s chest. “We are a cattle ranch, after all.”
“I reckon I could live with that.” Josh plopped down on the bedroll, one arm crooked behind his head. “Night, Mr. Colt.”
“Good night, Josh.”
Emma leaned into Colt. “That was a nice thing you just did,” she whispered once they were beyond earshot.
“From my dad’s notes, I know he worried about the boy. Ty, too. He’s young and hasn’t exactly fit in on the Circle P. It’s good to know we have a place for him.” At the door, he paused before his eyes met hers. “You, too. I hope you’ll make this your home.”
“I’d like that,” Emma breathed, amazed at how things had changed since the day she and Bree had driven onto the ranch to find themselves in the middle of a funeral. Not that long ago, she’d been sure she wouldn’t last any longer on the Circle P than ice in a glass of sweet tea. As for finding the love of her life, well, Colt hadn’t even been on her radar. But who knew that beneath all his bluster and endless moving around lived a man who wanted the same things she did—love, family and roots?
She leaned her back against the door. In a move that made her heart do a happy little dance, Colt propped one arm over her head. He bent to plunder her lips, drawing back far sooner than she wanted him to.
“If I asked to come inside...” he breathed.
“I’d say what are you waiting for,” she murmured.
Gold flecks heated the look he gave her. “You don’t know how much I want that, but not here. Not now.” The look he swung down the hall took in the rooms on either side of hers, rooms occupied by their guests. “Sarah and Ty are due home next week. What say we get away for a while once they’re back. I know of a real nice B&B in Saint Augustine. We could spend the weekend—” he traced one finger along her cheek “—get to know one another a lot better.”
“A weekend?” Though his touch sent little shivers of pleasure racing down her spine, her heart thudded. Going
away with Colt sounded like something this side of heaven, but she wanted more than a casual fling. She had to know if he did, too. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Girl, I love you. More than the air I breathe. You mean more to me than all the gold buckles I earned on the rodeo. I want you in my life. You and Bree.”
If it was commitment she was looking for, he’d delivered it. They kissed then, a kiss filled with promises that they’d fulfill another day. But later, as she tossed and turned on the narrow bunk, Emma wondered if she’d made the right choice. Oh, she and Colt loved each other. No doubt about that. But the owners of the Circle P might not be nearly so forgiving about the ruined cookbook or the other changes she’d brought to the ranch. She worried a fingernail, concerned that she might be out of a job the minute Ty and Sarah arrived back home.
And then what? Could she and Colt make their relationship work if she had to leave?
The answer still eluded her when the alarm beeped. Downstairs in the serviceable bunkhouse kitchen, she pushed aside her worries to focus on the job at hand. She was up to her elbows in biscuit dough when Colt tiptoed into the room carrying his boots. He paused only long enough for a kiss, but that was enough. It settled her nerves and swept away the vestiges of doubt. While she slid trays into the oven, he headed out the door to help Josh saddle the horses. Boots thundered on the stairs by the time she plucked hot-from-the-oven biscuits off trays and slid them into insulated cases. She poured coffee into to-go cups while giving instructions on the rest of the breakfast preparations to a sleepy-eyed Tim.
Outside, the horses stomped their hooves. Their lips fluttered as they blew air like impatient old ladies while the riders mounted up. Confident in her new skills on horseback, thanks to the lessons Colt had given her, Emma swung into the saddle with an easy grace. The first streaks of pale light brightened the horizon as they set off.
The clear, cool air swept the cobwebs from Emma’s head better than the strongest cup of coffee. Riding alongside Colt made it easy to chalk her restless night up to useless worry. Just as the sun climbed over the horizon, Josh reined his horse to a stop on a narrow beach at the edge of a lake that stretched as far as she could see. While Dave scrambled to the ground, camera in hand, Emma cast a wary eye along the shore, looking for alligators.
“Relax,” Colt’s voice whispered out of the darkness. “The horses’ll let us know if we have anything to worry about.”
She didn’t have a moment more to think about it. From the dark water came the sounds of a thousand heavy smokers clearing their throats. The sun rose higher. The moment its rays glinted off the lake’s surface, thousands of birds stretched their wings. A whooshing sound filled the air as they took flight, their huge pink wings turning the sky a vibrant coral. Feathers drifted in their wake. One floated in front of Emma. She snagged it and put it in her pocket for Bree.
Josh waited until the last bird winged its way out of sight before he cleared his throat. “This is just a hint of what we have every winter. Imagine that,” he told no one in particular.
“It worked for me. You’ve outdone yourself, Josh.” Mike’s hushed tones drifted over the empty water. “You get the shot, Dave?”
“You betcha! That was awesome. Worth getting up for.”
Emma tried to picture the astounding sight magnified tenfold and failed. She glanced around at the saw grass and palmetto revealed by the rising sun. Suddenly, she knew she’d found a home amid all the stark beauty. More than anything, she wanted to spend the rest of her life here. Raise her daughter here. Grow old with Colt here. Sure there were challenges. Things to learn and dangers to avoid. But she could trust Colt to keep her and her child safe. Just as, for the first time in her life, she felt certain she’d found the one person she could trust with her heart.
Chapter Twelve
A frown tugged at one corner of Colt’s mouth as he pulled a battered suitcase from beneath the bed. Empty stock pens and a last-minute scramble to fill them for last week’s rodeo in Tulsa had prompted a flurry of emails from the PBR. Their latest promised everything from first-class accommodations to a retirement plan if he’d come back to his old job. While he couldn’t deny the ego boost, he shook his head. He was staying put. Buying his own place. Setting up house. With Emma, if she’d have him. In the meantime, though, the Parkers’ return meant he’d run out of excuses for staying on at the main house. He stacked clothes from the dresser into the suitcase until a soft whine snagged his attention.
“This is Chocolate.” Bree stood in the doorway struggling to hold on to one of Maize’s puppies.
“Did you name him that?” Colt swept a hand over the top shelf of the closet, making sure he hadn’t missed anything.
“Uh-huh. ’Cause he’s brown. Like chocolate.” The puppy clambered to lick her face. “Whatcha doing?”
He grabbed a handful of hangers. “I’m packing. I have to leave this afternoon.”
“Are you going away?” Bree set the puppy on the floor. The dog scrambled for a pair of boots Colt had discarded at the end of the bed. Growling, the pup sprang for one.
“Hey, there, Chocolate. Them’s my boots. They’re not for eating.” He checked the heels—clean enough—and propped the worn footwear at the end of the mattress. “Don’t you pee on the floor now.”
“Are you going away?” Bree repeated.
The panicky note in the girl’s voice snagged his attention. “Mr. Ty and Ms. Sarah and Jimmy will be back home today. That makes a lot of people in one house. It’s time for me to move out.” He hoped Bree accepted the explanation. The real reason—that he couldn’t sleep down the hall from her mom another night without taking things to the next level—yeah, that wasn’t fit for four-year-old ears.
“My daddy went away.” Bree squatted down beside the puppy.
Colt’s favorite pair of Wranglers fell from his fingers. Fighting an urge to slap some sense into his head, he knelt beside the child. “Your daddy went to heaven. My dad’s there, too.” His throat thickened and he swallowed. “I’m not going that far. Just down the road a little ways.” The puppy wandered in circles near the dresser. “Do you remember the other house? The one with a bedroom just for you?”
Bree gave a solemn nod. “Mommy said we’d paint it. I like pink. What’s your favorite color?”
Colt eyed the child, who wore pink bows in her hair. “If you like pink, then that’s my favorite, too.”
“Good— Oooh! No, Chocolate!” Bree snatched the puppy off the floor, but the damage was done. A puddle spread across the wood. “I’m sorry, Mr. Colt. Don’t be mad. That’s a bad Chocolate. Bad puppy.” She hugged the squirming ball of fur to her chest, her eyes tearing up.
“Hey, there.” Colt petted the dog’s nose. “He didn’t mean anything by it, did you, boy?” For a moment, he let the little dog lick his fingers. “We’ll clean the floor before the wood gets ruined.”
Rising, he crossed to the bathroom, where he grabbed a handful of tissue. He studied Bree and her dog. “It takes a lot of responsibility to raise a puppy. You’ll have to train him right so he’ll be a good dog when he grows up.”
Are you talking to yourself there, Colt?
As he mopped and blotted, he considered what the next twenty years might be like if he and Emma made things permanent. He’d have more than puppies to worry about, for darn sure. He pictured walking Bree to the bus stop on her first day of school. Practicing her lines for the Christmas pageant. He saw himself sitting in the audience, mouthing the words right along with her. There were bound to be scrapes and bumps and probably more than one broken heart before she learned to drive a car. Before he knew it, he and Emma would be nodding off in their easy chairs, pretending they weren’t sleepy while they watched the clock the night of her first prom. One day, God willing, a nice boy would come along. He’d catch their daughter’s heart the same way Emma had caught his. Through it all there’d be laughter and tears and...
He brushed his eyes against one sleeve. Raising a
child up right took a lot more effort than raising a puppy. Was he ready for that kind of commitment?
“Did the pee make your eyes water, Mr. Colt? Mommy says it stinks, but it doesn’t. Onions make her eyes water.”
Colt took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “The stink comes later. If you don’t clean up right away. Tell you what,” he said, disposing of the soiled tissues. “I’ll walk you downstairs so you can take Chocolate outside to see if he has more business to do. I have to work in the office for a while, but then I’m going to get Mr. Ty and Ms. Sarah. When I come back, I’ll bring a surprise.”
He added a stop at the pet store for chew toys to his tasks for the afternoon. Kids and puppies went together like heat and humidity. As long as he was in the business of raising both, it’d be best if the dog learned to leave his boots alone.
A short time later, he logged the last of the receipts into the Circle P’s financial sheet and hit the enter key. Done, he exhaled. The monthly reports on the cattle, all logged. Bills, paid. Paychecks, issued. Accounts, balanced to the penny. He mopped his face and checked the in-box before shutting down the computer. His heart rate kicked up at the Beaks and Wings logo on an incoming email. A feeling that was half apprehension, half elation swirled through him when he clicked the mouse and an advance copy of the magazine’s review appeared on the screen.
He took a breath. Whatever the outcome, he was stuck with it. And so was the ranch because, according to Mike’s note, the summer issue had already gone to print. The mouse made a soft click. Colt scrolled down.
Five feathers. He leaned closer. The magazine’s highest rating didn’t change. He scanned the flattering article, but earning Beaks and Wings’ designation as one of the top birding spots in America didn’t hold his attention the way he thought it would. Instead, a sidebar drew his focus to pictures of exquisitely prepared food and a glowing report sure to put “up-and-coming Chef Emma” on the map.