by Robin Wells
Josie’s face flooded with heat. She realized she’d been staring at his hands wrapped around the reins, taking in his long, tanned fingers, the masculine dusting of hair. She remembered how his hands had felt on her face and couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel other places. An illicit thrill chased through her at the thought. Abruptly she jerked her eyes back to his eyes and ordered herself to concentrate on his words.
“Besides, I was going through my divorce at the time and didn’t want to deal with another big change right then. I’d acted rashly when I’d gotten married, and the last thing I wanted was to be involved in another rash mistake. I thought we should focus our resources on the ranch, not on opening a new business neither one of us knew anything about.”
“Sounds like you had some valid reasons,” she said.
Luke nodded. “But Dad wouldn’t listen. When he got an idea in his head, he was like a pit bull with a porkchop— nothing could make him give it up.” His mouth twisted in a mirthless smile. “He wasn’t one to do anything halfway, either. He mortgaged the ranch for all it was worth and put all the money into constructing the lodge.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Dad said he would run the tourist part, and he wanted me to manage the ranch operation. But I didn’t want to run a ranch that was nothing more than a sideshow for a bunch of tourists. I hated the thought of seeing the ranch I’d grown up working, that had been in our family for four generations, turned into some kind of Old West amusement park.”
There was that sentimental side again. The realization made her feel strangely sentimental herself. “What happened?”
Luke gave a heavy sigh. “We argued, and I left.”
“Where’d you go?”
“To manage a ranch in southwestern Oklahoma.”
“Did you have any contact with your father while you were gone?”
“Oh, we exchanged a few letters and phone calls, but things were strained between us. He kept wanting me to come back, but I refused. I wouldn’t even come for a visit. I didn’t want to see the lodge, didn’t want to see how the ranch had changed. The thought of it just made me sick inside.”
Given how deeply he loved the ranch, it was certainly understandable. A wave of sympathy washed through her. “Consuela said you came back when your dad became ill.”
A nerve worked in Luke’s jaw. “I headed straight here the moment she called.” He stared ahead and was silent so long Josie didn’t know if he was going to continue. Finally he blew out a harsh breath of air. “But it was too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’d had a heart attack. He never regained consciousness.”
“Oh, Luke—I’m so sorry.”
“He’d worked himself to death, trying to operate both the ranch and the lodge. The ranch had gone through a real down cycle while I was away, but he didn’t let anyone know how bad things were.” Luke’s voice was pained and bitter. He ran a hand down his face. “I never should have left If I’d been here, I could have shouldered half the load for him, and maybe he would have taken better care of himself. Maybe I could have gotten him to a doctor sooner, when something could still be done.”
Josie’s heart turned over. “Surely you don’t blame yourself for your father’s death.”
“Well, the way I see it, I am to blame.” He briefly met her gaze, his eyes flat and pained. “And every time I manage to forget it for even a second, that blasted building is there to remind me.”
He didn’t hate the lodge because he disliked having guests on the ranch. He hated it because it reminded him of the argument. Guilt over not being there when his father needed him, not making peace with him before he died, was eating Luke alive.
The realization made something in Josie’s chest twist and tighten. Luke was a man who cared deeply, who felt responsible for his actions, who had a strong sense of family obligation. She couldn’t help but be struck by the difference between this man and the one she’d nearly married. Luke had a conscience. He had a sense of integrity. He had compassion and character. Robert had lacked all of those. How could she have failed to notice that fact? She’d been looking at all the wrong things.
She looked at Luke now, at his clenched lips and his rigid jaw, and knew he was angry at himself. A pang of sympathy, hot and acute, shot through her so sharply it hurt.
She searched her mind for a way to comfort him.
“Luke, you’re being way too hard on yourself.” She wished she weren’t on horseback so she could reach out and touch him. “My guess is you were hurt that your father didn’t take your feelings more into consideration. I know that’s how I would have felt in your situation.” Luke’s eyes darted to her, then resumed staring straight at the pathway ahead. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but at least he appeared to be listening. “You obviously loved your father a great deal or you wouldn’t feel so bad about arguing with him. I don’t think one person can love that strongly without the other person knowing it, Luke. Despite the disagreement, I’m sure he knew you loved him.”
Her voice was earnest and persuasive. Luke looked at her, and their eyes locked and held. Josie’s soft, soothing gaze poured over him like a balm. There was something healing in the concern that creased her brow, in the warmth of her sky-colored eyes. For a moment he almost let himself believe her words.
“I don’t know about all that, but thanks for the thought.”
She gave another soft smile, and he found himself staring at the way her lips curved upward. A hunger gnawed at his belly, a hunger that had nothing to do with a cookout and everything to do with her. He looked away, baffled at why she should have this odd effect on him. He could understand the physical attraction—that part was simple and straightforward. What he couldn’t understand was why he was suddenly filled with these strong, strange longings for something deeper and more personal, and why he found himself talking a blue streak every time he got around her.
He was relieved when the trail narrowed at the edge of the woods. The single-file trail would make conversation difficult—which was a darn good thing, considering the fact that once again he’d spilled more guts than a filleted perch.
He reined in Black Star to let Josie precede him on the trail, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. He was normally the kind of man who kept his emotions under wraps, who played his cards close to his vest and didn’t let the world know his business, yet here he’d gone again, telling her another sob story.
There was a lot more to her than was apparent on the surface. Not that there was anything wrong with her surface, he thought, eyeing her backside as she hypnotically swayed atop Petunia. No, siree, not anything at all.
He was grateful when they arrived at the campsite. He swung down from Black Star and tethered him to a tree, glad that it would be dark on the ride back. At least he’d be spared the torture of watching Josie rock back and forth in a saddle, he thought, turning to help her dismount from Petunia.
Her jacket rode up as he caught her around the waist, and the feel of her warm, naked skin sent shock waves pulsing through him. He froze, failing to step back and make room as her feet hit the ground. She lurched against his chest, her bottom gently bumping his groin. It was all he could do not to groan aloud.
She turned around in his arms. “Oh…sorry.” Her breath felt whisper-soft on his face, and it smelled enticingly of cinnamon. Her eyes were mesmerizingly close. He’d never known the color blue could look so warm, he thought distractedly. He stared at her, his feet rooted to the ground like a heavy tree, afraid she’d bolt like a skittish colt if he made the slightest movement. Unwilling to risk it, he probably would have stood there, his hands on her waist, holding his breath, until he passed out.
He was spared that embarrassment when she stepped back and turned away. Luke grabbed Petunia’s reins and haphazardly looped them around a tree limb, his pulse pounding as hard as the hooves of his best quarter horse at a full gallop.
He couldn’t afford to have thi
s reaction to her—especially not this early in the evening with the whole night stretching before them. He was here as a tour guide and host, nothing more.
He cleared his throat and gestured toward the clearing, where a circle of logs surrounded an enormous brick fire pit. Wood was already stacked in the center, just waiting to be touched with a match. “This is the campsite,” he said unnecessarily.
Josie smoothed a strand of hair away from her forehead and turned toward it. “Looks like everything’s all ready.”
Oh, he was ready, all right. Ready to pull her back in his arms and run his hands through her thick, wild curls and kiss her halfway into tomorrow.
The thought made him scowl as he strode toward the campfire, squatted down and set it ablaze. Flames danced in the deepening dusk, adding extra sparks to a situation Luke was already finding unbearably overheated. How on earth was he going to make it through the evening without having a total meltdown?
* * *
The moon was full and high in the sky when Josie finally set her tin plate on the ground and gave a contented sigh. “That was one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten.”
Luke placed his plate beside hers and leaned back against the log, gazing into the campfire. “Food always tastes better when it’s cooked outdoors.”
And when it’s shared with good company, Josie thought, stretching her legs out in front of her. She’d been nervous about spending the evening alone with Luke—especially after she’d been all but immobilized with desire when he’d helped her down from her horse. The look in his eyes and the warmth of his hands on her skin had made her melt from the inside out, like a microwaved marshmallow.
Thank heavens things had lightened up as they’d grilled the steaks, roasted ears of corn and shared the salad Consuela had prepared. They’d shifted back into the easy, laughing rapport they’d shared in the kitchen the night before, and she almost felt relaxed.
Almost, but not quite. Attraction bubbled just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt like a volcano. Not knowing if or when it would add an underlying note of tension to the quiet surface of the evening.
She was attracted to a lot more than just Luke’s physical appearance, and what he’d told her tonight about his argument with his father added fuel to the fire. She’d caught enough glimpses of the kind, caring man behind Luke’s gruff exterior to want to see more.
She had no business feeling this way about him, she told herself sternly. For that matter, she had no business feeling any way about him. It was too soon after Robert to even think about another romantic entanglement.
So why could she seem to think of nothing else?
Luke suddenly sat up and pointed at the sky. “Look…a shooting star!”
Josie stared, enthralled, as a tiny speck streaked across the dark heaven and disappeared. “So that’s what they look like!” she murmured.
Luke’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never seen one before?”
“Afraid not.”
He shook his head in amazement. “You city people are more deprived than I realized.” His tone was teasing, but Josie sensed he meant every word. He leaned back against the log. “I used to make wishes on them when I was a boy. Mom said if you finished making your wish before the star disappeared, it would come true.”
“That explains the shooting stars on your quilt,” Josie said softly. No wonder it was so special to him, she thought. “What did you wish for when you were a boy?”
Luke gazed back up at the star-filled sky. “For everything to stay the same. I already had a pony and a dog and lots of toys, so I didn’t waste wishes on those. And I never wanted to be an astronaut or a football player or a fireman—I always knew I wanted to stay right here and work the ranch when I grew up. So I used to just wish that nothing would change.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “‘Course, I’d have stood a better chance if I’d wished for the Taj Majal to be air-dropped onto the south pasture.” He looked at her. “What about you?”
Josie stared up at the twinkling sky. “I had two dreams. One was that summer camp would last all year long.”
“You must have really liked it.”
“I lived for it. It was just about my only chance to be outdoors.”
“Why’s that?”
Josie lifted her shoulders. “Not a lot of opportunity. My family isn’t the outdoorsy type. The only time my parents or sisters go outdoors is when they’re getting in and out of a car—and that’s only if they can’t find covered parking.”
Josie grinned, but Luke had the feeling she wasn’t exaggerating by much.
“But I loved the outdoors. When I grew too old to be a camper, I signed on as a counselor. That’s when I discovered I loved working with people—especially people on vacation. It’s what made me want to work in the hospitality industry.” Josie looked away and sighed. “It probably wasn’t the best basis for choosing a full-time career.”
Luke’s thoughts flew to what she’d told him earlier about her parents’ disapproval of her career choice and her own doubts about her judgment. The discouraged tone of her voice stirred something protective inside him. “Hey, I think it’s a great basis,” he found himself saying. “You chose a career based on your interests and talents, and I think that shows excellent judgment.”
Her eyes were searching and hopeful. “You really think so?”
“I do.”
“As my father pointed out, I didn’t take a lot of things into consideration—the long hours, the probability of living away from my family, the competition for advancement…”
“Every career has its drawbacks.”
“But I ended up losing my job.”
“That had nothing to do with your career choice. From what you told me, you were standing up for your principles. In my opinion, anyone who does that is not only exercising good judgment, but courage as well. Jobs are replaceable. Integrity is a different matter.” The soft, grateful glow in her eyes made his heart do somersaults.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
Luke nodded. Something that felt suspiciously like a knot was forming in his throat, and his chest had a spot that was decidedly tender. Unconsciously he rubbed it and tried to steer the conversation to a less emotionally laden topic. “You said you had two dreams. What was the other one?”
“Oh, the standard rose-covered cottage fantasy. To live in the country, have two or three children, a big dog and some horses.”
The typical dream of an outdoor-starved city girl, Luke thought. If it ever came true, she’d be bored to tears in less than a week. “You left something important out of that bucolic little picture,” Luke said dryly.
“What’s that?”
“A husband. Ever do much dreaming about that?”
Josie gave a wry smile. “Based on the mistake I nearly made in that department, evidently not enough.” She looked back up at the stars. “I always thought that when I met the right man, I’d know it.”
He knew he was on dangerous ground, but he couldn’t resist pushing the envelope. “How did you expect to know?”
“Oh, it sounds silly to say it aloud.” She pulled up her knees and hugged them to her chest. “I guess I thought my heart would beat faster, that I’d feel all warm and alive whenever he was around, that deep inside I’d just know.”
“Have you ever felt that way about a man?”
A log snapped on the fire, and sparks blazed into flame. It was dark, but not too dark to see a pink flush rise in her cheeks. “I’ve felt attraction before, if that’s what you mean. But I’m sure that’s all it was.” She sounded breathless and oddly defensive, and her smile wobbled a little at the edge of her mouth.
Before he could figure out why she was acting so strangely, she scrambled to her feet and dusted off her jeans. “It’s getting late. We should probably be heading back, don’t you think?”
In a more rational state of mind, he knew he would agree. But sitting beside her in the firelight had muddled his thoughts. Muttering agreement, Luk
e rose to dowse the fire and gather up the utensils, all the while wondering what type of man she was attracted to.
Wondering if she was attracted to him.
None of your damn business, he told himself. She’s looking for a husband, not a playmate. All the same, thinking about the way she’d responded did funny things to his pulse rate and respiration, and he was glad when they’d finished securing the campsite. The sooner he put an end to this evening, the better.
The chorus of crickets reverberated loudly in the quiet night as they walked across the clearing toward the horses. The moon was round and full and so bright they didn’t need to use the large-beamed flashlight Luke had brought— so bright, in fact, that even at a distance he could easily see only one horse standing where two had been tethered.
“Where’s Petunia?” Josie asked.
Luke’s heart sank heavily in his chest. “Back at the barn, most likely. I must not have tied her off well enough.”
And he knew why, too, Luke thought darkly. He’d been so worked up over the feel of Josie’s bare midriff he’d been unable to tie a simple knot.
Just thinking about it now sent another round of attraction ricocheting through him. He stalked toward the remaining horse in an effort to ward off the feeling, knowing all the while it was a lost cause.
“What are we going to do?”
“We’ll both have to ride Black Star.” He felt like a doomed man discussing a trip to the gallows. “He balks at being led, and he’s too skittish for you to ride him alone.”
The prospect of riding the horse with Luke made Josie’s mouth go dry. She managed a nod, and nervously waited as he shoved the flashlight and newspaper-wrapped dinner-ware into the saddlebags. He swung into the saddle and reached down to help her up. Swallowing hard, Josie grabbed his arm, used the stirrup as a step and hoisted herself behind him.