The Virgin and Zach Coulter

by Lois Faye Dyer

  The man’s face tightened into a belligerent scowl as his gaze moved past her. Whatever he saw made his eyes widen, as the ruddy color leached out of his face and he immediately took a step back.

  Cynthia drew a deep breath and fought for control. She half turned to look over her shoulder and felt her own eyes widen as she caught her breath at the sight of the man standing a few feet behind her.

  He was over six feet tall with broad shoulders and long legs. Beard stubble shadowed his jaw and his coal-black hair looked several weeks overdue for a haircut. The hard angles of his face were set in implacable lines and beneath the slash of dark eyebrows, his grass-green eyes were narrowed and focused on the other man in a menacing stare. He wore a scarred brown leather bomber jacket that hung open over a black T-shirt and faded jeans with scuffed black cowboy boots. The jeans had apparently seen so many washings that they were faded white at stress points, the soft worn denim stretched over the powerful muscles of his thighs.

  He looked as if he’d ridden straight in off the range, packing a six-gun and looking for trouble, Cynthia thought with disbelief. There was something vaguely familiar about him but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  That deep, cold voice prompted the other man. “I think it’s time you moved on.”

  “Uh, yeah.” The shorter man touched his hat with a quick nod at Cynthia and turned on his heel to hurry off down the sidewalk.

  “Are you all right?” The stranger turned his gaze on her and Cynthia was transfixed.

  Dangerous, she thought. This gorgeous male could be seriously dangerous.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him, gathering her wits. “He was annoying but I don’t think he would have actually hurt me.”

  The stranger smiled, white teeth flashing in his tanned face, turning him from lethal to the poster boy for male charm.

  “I certainly hope not,” he drawled. “Unless Indian Springs has changed drastically, women don’t normally have to worry about being assaulted on Main Street.” He cocked his head to the side and eyed her with interest. “It’s been a long time since I lived here, but I don’t ever remember anyone in town as pretty as you.”

  Cynthia laughed, amusement bubbling at his obvious line. “I grew up here,” she told him. She was immensely relieved to find she was comfortable with his flirting. Lots of men had flirted with her over the years and she usually enjoyed the fencing with words that ensued. It wasn’t until someone stepped into her personal space and wouldn’t accept a refusal, as the older man had earlier, that she lost her composure and felt threatened.

  “Not possible,” he promptly denied. “I would have remembered you. I have an infallible memory for beautiful women.”

  “And I bet you’ve known a lot of them,” she shot back, smiling when he winced and grinned at her.

  His eyes twinkled, only slightly easing the heat in his green gaze.

  Cynthia hadn’t felt this attracted to a man in…well, she realized, never. Though he was clearly a heartbreaker, he was undeniably charming and just as clearly, interested in her.

  “I’m Zach Coulter,” he said.

  Her eyes widened and her breath caught. Of course you are, she thought. I should have realized the moment I saw you. All the Coulter boys had coal-black hair, green eyes and lady-killer charm. It was part of what made them so unforgettable.

  She was five years younger than Zach, and he’d graduated from high school while she was still in junior high. Cynthia wasn’t surprised that he didn’t remember her because she’d simply been too young for him to notice. But she suspected most females who saw the Coulter brothers before they left town hadn’t forgotten them—and that included her.

  “And you are…?” he prompted with the lift of a brow.

  “Cynthia Deacon.” She held out her hand and felt it immediately enclosed in hard masculine warmth. His grip was firm, the surface of his palm and fingers faintly rough with calluses.

  “Cynthia.” He repeated her name slowly, as if savoring the sound of it on his lips. Then his mouth curved upward in a small, wholly male smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” she told him, tugging gently to free her fingers. “I’m sorry about your father. I’d heard your oldest brother was back at the Triple C, but the local grapevine said he was the only Coulter who’d returned.”

  “He was until today.” Zach nodded briefly in confirmation. “I just got in.”

  “From where?” Cynthia knew her question was impolite but curiosity overrode good manners. “Nepal.”

  She felt her eyes widen again. “Nepal? What on earth were you doing there?”

  His eyes laughed at her as his white teeth flashed in a grin. “I was climbing Mount Everest.”

  “Seriously?” Nonplussed, she stared at him, speechless. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met who even attempted that. Did you reach the top?”

  “Summit,” he corrected her. “And yes, we did.”

  “What was it like?” She stared at him, wondering what drove a man to climb mountains covered in snow and ice.

  “Cold,” he told her gravely. “Really cold.”

  Startled, she laughed out loud. Amusement lit his features and laugh lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

  “What? You don’t believe me?” he asked mildly.

  “Oh, I believe you,” she said hastily. “I just can’t believe that’s the first thing that comes to mind when you’ve climbed a mountain most people only dream of attempting.”

  He shrugged, broad shoulders shifting beneath the leather jacket.

  “It was…awe inspiring.” The teasing quality was gone from his voice. “Like standing on top of the world.”

  If she’d been attracted earlier by his teasing smile and unconcealed male interest, she found herself even more powerfully drawn by the depth and sincerity in his words.

  “It must have been amazing,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve never had an experience like that. The highest I’ve ever been—outside an airplane—is standing on top of the Empire State Building’s observation deck and looking down on the streets of New York.”

  “I’ve done that, too.” He smiled down at her, easy charm once more in place. “I liked it.”

  “So did I,” she said drily. “But it hardly compares with climbing Mount Everest.”

  “Maybe, but it’s much warmer. And there aren’t as many obstacles along the way, which is always a plus,” he commented. “As hallmark experiences go, there’s a lot to be said for the Empire State Building’s observation deck.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “If we’re comparing dangerous experiences, I’m betting climbing scary-high mountain wins.”

  He chuckled, the sound reverberating and sending shivers up her spine.

  No wonder he had a reputation as a heartbreaker back in high school, Cynthia thought, blinking against the sudden urge to step closer, lay her hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat and tuck her face against the warm, strong column of his throat to breathe in the subtle scent of his aftershave. I need to get a grip.

  Before she could comment, the patter of feet on concrete sounded behind her, accompanied by the shrieks of children.

  “Douglas, watch where you’re going!” a feminine voice warned.

  The cautionary warning came too late. One of the little boys crashed into Cynthia from behind, knocking her forward.

  And straight into Zach.

  Her hands rested on his chest and his arms instantly wrapped around her. She was swamped with a flood of emotions—desire, and an odd sense of security. He was much taller than she and the top of her head barely reached his chin. The body she pressed against was solid and strong, the muscles of his chest hard where her palms flattened against him. Up close, the curve of his mouth was unbelievably seductive and his green eyes darkened as she stared.

  Belatedly realizing she was lying against him, unmoving, she stirred and his arms instantly loosened. His hands shifted to her shoulders, his firm h
old steadying her as she stepped back before he released her fully.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” A worried female voice broke the spell.

  Cynthia glanced over her shoulder at the flustered young mother, her gaze dropping to the little boy the woman held firmly by the hand.

  “Yes.” She managed a shaky smile as she turned to face them. “Yes, I’m fine. No harm done.”

  Relief moved over the young woman’s face. “Thank goodness.” She bent to the little boy. “Douglas, apologize to the lady.”

  “Sorry.” The child looked up at Cynthia through thick lashes.

  He was adorable. Charmed, she couldn’t be upset with him.

  “That’s okay,” she said, smiling at him.

  He rewarded her with an ear-to-ear grin that lit his face before he bashfully ducked his head.

  With a final apology, the two women and their charges set off down the street.

  Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Cynthia turned to face Zach.

  His green gaze was intent, focused on her. She was instantly swamped with the memory of his arms around her, the sensation of her body pressed against his.

  “Thanks for catching me,” she said. The effort to appear cool and unaffected by those brief moments took all her control.

  “Anytime.” His mouth curved in a slow, wholly masculine smile.

  Cynthia’s heartbeat stuttered before settling in a faster, harder rhythm.

  With great effort, she pulled her gaze from his mouth and glanced at her watch. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Zach—and welcome back to Indian Springs. I have to run. I have an appointment.” As she spoke, she took several backward steps down the sidewalk. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. It’s such a small town.” She smiled vaguely and turned on her heel. Walking swiftly and purposefully, she headed toward her car that was parked halfway down the block.

  And felt his intense gaze with every step she took.

  Zach watched her go, surprised at the speed with which she’d gone from friendly conversation to abrupt departure. His gaze tracked her smooth, graceful walk, the slight sway of her hips and the silky blond ponytail that brushed against her shoulders with each step.

  Tired though he was after days of travel and little sleep, every cell in his body had snapped to attention the minute he’d seen her. Riveted, his eyes had swept her from head to toe, his body tightening as he did. Her legs were encased in snug jeans, and the red stiletto heels on her small feet made her legs look even longer. Her hair brushed against the red sweater she wore. A shopping bag and small leather handbag dangled from one hand.

  He’d only been a few feet away when she attempted to step around the older, beefy cowboy blocking her path.

  Zach registered the instant tenseness that gripped the slim, curvy female body.

  Then she’d turned and he’d seen her face. Heart-shaped, with dark brows winging above deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, a stubborn little chin below a lush mouth—she was outrageously feminine.

  The swift urge to protect and claim swept through him.

  Down the sidewalk, Cynthia stepped off the curb and opened the driver’s door of a bright red sports car. A moment later, she backed out of the parking slot and drove away.

  Zach shook his head. He hadn’t reacted to a woman with this much instant lust since he was a teenager. He shrugged and turned to stride to the entrance of the Anderson Law Office only yards away.

  It must be the lack of sleep, he told himself.

  Even as he blamed his reaction to Cynthia on exhaustion, Zach knew he was lying. He had to admit she’d knocked him off stride without trying, and when she’d smiled…

  Damn, he thought ruefully. Just thinking about her smiling up at him was enough to make him want to turn around, find her and see if he could tease her into laughing again.

  He realized he was standing outside the law office door, a half smile on his face, and shook his head to clear it.

  He needed to focus on seeing the attorney and heading out to the Triple C.

  He couldn’t help but wonder what Ned Anderson might reveal about his father—and if the attorney could explain why Joseph Coulter had named his sons in his will. Zach had avoided any thoughts about his estranged father for so long that having to talk about him felt strange—and oddly painful.

  He steeled himself and pushed open the door.

  Chapter Two

  Chimes rang, announcing his presence as Zach entered the attorney’s office.

  “Is Ned Anderson in?” he asked the receptionist.

  “No, I’m sorry, he’s not. Do you have an appointment?” The older woman eyed him over half-glasses.

  “No. My brother told me to stop and talk to him before I head home, but if he’s not available I’ll come back tomorrow.” Zach turned toward the door, not the slightest disappointed that the lawyer wasn’t in. He’d rather be at the ranch, sleeping in a warm bed, instead of meeting with his father’s estate attorney. He’d been traveling nonstop for nearly a week to get this far. The journey from the base camp at Mount Everest, where he’d spoken with Cade, had required hiking with stubborn pack mules, a train to the nearest city, and finally several airline flights just to reach the U.S. This morning he’d boarded an 11:00 a.m. flight from Seattle to Billings, where he’d rented the truck and driven to Indian Springs.

  “Wait!” The woman’s voice stopped him and he looked back at her. “Are you Zach Coulter?”

  “Yeah.” He paused to look back at her.

  “Mr. Anderson had an emergency in Great Falls today, but he asked me to give you something if you arrived while he was gone.” She quickly bustled across the waiting area and entered an office. A second later, she popped back out. “Here it is.” She held out a sealed manila envelope and a silver ring holding a collection of metal keys. “He said to tell you the letter and enclosures explain everything and that he’ll be back in the office next week. He hopes you’ll come in to see him then.”

  Zach took the keys and envelope from her outstretched hand.

  “I’ll do that.” He nodded and left the office. He returned to his truck, tossing the envelope on the passenger seat and shoving the key ring into his jeans pocket before backing out. As he drove off, he glanced at the wide plate-glass window of the attorney’s office. Anderson’s receptionist watched him, lifting a hand in a wave of farewell.

  He returned the gesture, realizing that he’d forgotten how friendly the people in his hometown could be. He liked the energy and convenience of living in San Francisco. It was the perfect base for someone who traveled as much as he did. But he couldn’t remember the last time a business acquaintance in the city had waved goodbye to him.

  Zach obeyed the twenty-five miles per hour speed limit, giving him time to assess the buildings and shops lining Main Street. Surprisingly, not much had changed in the thirteen years he’d been gone. The Black Bear Bar and Restaurant still took up the corner across from the pharmacy. The big door of Miller’s Feed Store was rolled up and stood open for business. The neon sign over the Indian Springs Café still flashed bright red, and Connors Auto Parts had dusty ranch trucks parked at the curb out front.

  There were several small shops he didn’t remember but all in all, Zach was pleasantly surprised to find his hometown apparently alive and well.

  Driving through the center of the town where he’d grown up brought a wash of memories. Picking up speed as he drove toward the Triple C, every mile that brought him closer to his boyhood home held even more.

  At last he slowed, braked to turn off the highway and drove beneath a tall, welded metal arch that spelled out Coulter Cattle Company in graceful curves. The lane was edged with pastures dotted with sagebrush before it rounded the base of a butte and topped a rise.

  Zach braked, letting the engine idle. At nearly five o’clock the late-afternoon sun highlighted the familiar buildings clustered at the foot of a flat-topped butte on the far side of the valley. From this distance, the ranch looked exactly t
he same as it had on the morning he’d driven away years ago—for what he’d sworn was the last time.

  And damned if he wasn’t glad to be here, he thought with surprise. He hadn’t seen Cade in nearly a year and it was always good to catch up with his brother. As for returning to the ranch? There was an odd mix of reluctance to see the place and an uncomfortable weight on his chest that reminded him of the way he’d felt after his mother had died. That same heaviness had returned when he’d left the Triple C, and again when Cade had told him Joseph was dead.

  He shook his head. He’d never spent a lot of time examining his feelings and he didn’t plan to start now. It was enough that he wasn’t turning the truck around and heading back to San Francisco.

  What the hell, he thought with a shrug. Life was full of surprises. He’d never expected to be driving down this road again.

  He shifted the truck into gear and left the crest of the hill, following the gravel road as it descended to the valley floor. The wood-and-iron bridge rattled beneath the wheels as he crossed the creek before the road climbed again to reach the buildings.

  Zach automatically swung the truck in a wide circle before parking in front of the house with the nose of the truck pointing toward the exit.

  An older pickup sat in front of the bunkhouse across the graveled ranch yard, and a newer model silver truck was parked just beyond Zach’s pickup.

  Guessing the newer vehicle belonged to Cade, Zach grabbed his duffel bag from the jump seat and stepped out, stretching in an attempt to relieve the aches from the long days of nonstop travel.

  The gate in the fence to the house yard opened without a creak when he lifted the latch.

  Cade had obviously been doing a lot of work on the place, Zach thought as he closed the gate behind him, his gaze assessing the semicircle of buildings facing the house around the large yard. The bunkhouse was freshly painted and although the barn, machine shop and other buildings were weatherworn, the structures appeared to be solid.

  He turned back to the house, running a quick glance over the roofline and corners. Fresh white paint and green trim around the windows and doors had the old house looking better than Zach remembered it.