Trusting the Cowboy
Page 18
Working with this colt was a way of putting that conversation off.
A couple of times he’d felt a chill of regret at what he’d done, but each time he did, he thought of what Lauren had told him.
How she’d given up everything for everybody. He heard the pain in her voice. Sensed the depth of the sacrifices she had made.
Keith had often mentioned how frustrated he was with his daughters. But when Vic sat and talked with Drake today, after making his decision to rip up the lease agreement, he’d found out more about Keith’s expectations of young girls whom he’d barely known and barely gotten to know.
He, who had grown up with loving parents and a caring community, couldn’t imagine the loneliness and responsibility that must have haunted Lauren.
The colt whinnied at him, lowering its head, tonguing its mouth.
He stopped and let the colt come toward him, waiting for its response, ready to reward it.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice steady, even, while his thoughts spun and doubled back in his head.
Why had he done what he had? What would happen to Dean? Why had he ruined their one big chance?
He stilled the noisy voices in his head as he reached out and gently touched the colt’s withers. It flinched and he drew back, but then the colt came close again.
“It will be all right,” he told the colt, gently stroking its side, rewarding the movement toward him.
Please, Lord, let that be so.
And as he prayed, the noisy, accusing voices grew still.
He heard the creak of a door and he half turned, expecting to see Dean come storming in to accuse him of ruining his future in yet another way.
But the blond hair and lithe figure belonged to someone else. Someone who had been on his mind since the first time he had seen her sitting in Drake’s office.
She stood silhouetted against the light dancing through her hair, casting her features in shadow.
He couldn’t read her expression.
So he waited for her to come closer. To make the first move.
Just like the colt he’d been working with.
She stood there, then, slowly, she started walking toward him.
He waited until she came to the metal door of the round pen, then joined her.
She stood in front of him, looking bemused.
“I talked to Jodie about what you did,” she said. Her voice was quiet. “I can’t believe... I don’t know...” She stopped there, her voice fading away, and then, to his shock and surprise, he saw her eyes well up.
He’d thought he would be able to keep his cool. Keep his distance.
But the silent slide of tears down her cheek melted his already shaky resolve.
He closed the gap between them in two steps, took her in his arms and drew her close to him. Her arms slipped around him, her head tucking under his chin.
They stood there, the moment lengthening, words unnecessary.
Vic stroked her hair, absorbing the fact that she was here. She had come to him.
Finally she drew back and wiped her cheeks, releasing a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, smoothing away a few tears from her cheek.
She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.
“Why didn’t you follow through? With the lease agreement. Why did you rip it up?”
“That sounds dramatic,” he said. “I just got Drake to run it through the shredder.”
She gave him a tentative smile. “Why did you let him do that? It was what you’ve been looking for ever since I got here.”
He paused, giving himself time to choose the right words.
“I did it because I wanted you to be able to do what you wanted. I did it for you.”
She slowly shook her head, as if trying to figure out what he was saying. What he had done.
He had to tell her. Now he really had nothing to lose by her knowing.
“I did it because I love you,” he finally said. “I wanted you to be able to decide your own future and take your own path.”
Lauren’s eyes grew wide; her lips parted as astonishment crept over her features.
“You love me?”
“I do. I love you.”
She grabbed the back of his neck, pulled his head down and kissed him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her other arm clinging to him.
His first reaction was surprise, his second a shivering warmth.
He pulled her closer. Finally they drew back.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered, her hands stroking his face, her fingers trailing over his features. “I can’t believe you would do this for me. No one has ever done anything like that.”
“Like I said, I did it because I love you. I had no expectations.”
“I know you didn’t.” She rested her hands on his shoulders. “But it meant so much to me. It showed me something deep within me that took some time for me to acknowledge.”
“Which is?” he gently prompted.
She looked up at him again, a warm smile curving her lips. “That you are the best person I’ve ever met. That you are a wonderful, caring man. That I know I can trust you with my life. With my heart.” She stood up on tiptoe and brushed a welcome kiss over his lips. “I love you, too, Vic Moore.”
Her words created a rush of joy in his heart.
“I’m glad. Makes it easier to talk about a future.”
“We have a future?” she asked, her smile turning adorably coy.
“I want a future. With you. I want you by my side and I want to be by your side.”
“I want the same,” she said.
He kissed her again, sealing their promises. But as he drew away, another reality intruded.
“And what about your business?” he asked. “Your partnership with Amy.”
“I’ve done more phoning the last hour than I’ve done since I got here,” Lauren said, curling her hands behind his neck, leaning back to hold his gaze. “I wanted everything decided before I came here to you. I told Alex the ranch wasn’t for sale, but I directed him to Amy. Put them in touch. I talked to Amy on the way here and I believe they are setting something up. She’s disappointed I won’t be working with her. We are good friends and have always gotten along well.”
“That won’t change,” Vic assured her.
“I don’t think so. I think Alex is willing to invest in the company and let her direct how things will be run.”
“So once again you’ve taken care of the other people in your life,” he said in a teasing tone.
“It’s what I do.” She gave him another smile. “And you shouldn’t complain, because I hope to do the same for you.”
“That doesn’t make you very independent,” he said. “I know that was important to you.”
“I think I have a solution. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aunt Laura would be willing to let me take over her flower shop. Maybe sooner than later.”
“Would you be okay with that?”
Lauren nodded, her expression growing softer. “I think I would like it more than running an accounting business.”
“You look happy just thinking about it,” he said, another concern fading away.
“I’ve always loved helping her.”
“And you love flowers and plants.”
“Not as much as I love you,” she said.
Vic kissed her again and then felt a nudge behind him. He turned to see the colt he’d been working with, head hanging over the gate, trying to get his attention.
“Looks like someone’s ready to work with me,” Vic said, half turning to touch the colt’s head. Acknowledge its presence.
“Some things just take time,” Lauren said, touching the
colt herself. “It’s a matter of trust, I think.”
Vic grew serious and turned back to Lauren. “I know you’ve been burned in the past. But I want you to know that you can trust me.”
Lauren gave him a warm smile, then kissed him again. “I know that, and I do. I trust you with my heart and my life.”
“I won’t let you down.” He slipped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. “And now I suppose we’ll have to go talk to our family. Let them know what’s happening.”
Lauren’s smile grew even broader. “Our family. I sure like the sound of that.”
“So do I.”
And together they walked out of the barn and into their future.
* * * * *
If you loved this story,
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WRANGLING THE COWBOY’S HEART
and these other stories of love in Montana
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HER COWBOY HERO
REUNITED WITH THE COWBOY
THE COWBOY’S HOMECOMING
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Dear Reader,
Lauren’s experiences dealt her hard lessons in trust. As a result she tried to find her own way through life, thinking that owning her own business and being independent will give her what she needs. But though she had a good plan, she needed to find a way to blend her heart’s desire with a life’s plan. I hope you enjoyed reading Lauren and Vic’s story.
I love to hear from readers. If you want to write me, you can contact me at caarsen@xplornet.com. As well, if you want to find out more about other books in the series or other books I have written, check out my website at www.carolyneaarsen.com. While you’re there, sign up for my newsletter to be kept up-to-date on any new books I have coming out and just general news from our place.
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The Rancher’s Family Wish
by Lois Richer
Chapter One
“Mr. Cowboy!”
Lost in thoughts of his upcoming meeting, Tanner Johns barely registered the call of the child standing outside the door of the Tucson grocery store he’d just left.
“Hey, Mr. Cowboy!”
When the call came a third time, Tanner realized the girl had to be addressing him since there was no one else in the parking lot wearing cowboy boots and a Stetson, no one else who could even remotely be called a cowboy. He walked toward the child, taken aback by her extraordinary beauty. The piercing scrutiny of intense blue eyes enhanced her ivory skin and flaxen hair. He was a few feet away when he noticed the obvious signs of Down syndrome.
“Were you calling me?” Tanner glanced around to be certain.
“Uh-huh.” Her smile made her skin glow.
“Why?” Tanner automatically smiled back. This little cutie was a looker with a grin that would melt the most weather-beaten hide.
“’Cause you’re a cowboy and cowboys have ranches.” Her bell-like voice carried on January’s breeze as it whispered across blacktop shimmering in the Arizona heat.
Several people turned to study them. After a glimpse at Tanner their focus veered to the child, benevolent smiles widening when they spied the big cage at her feet. Wait a minute—rabbits? How had he missed that?
“A ranch is a good place to keep bunnies,” she said.
“Uh, how many are there?” Tanner couldn’t decipher one ball of fur from another.
“Only eight.” She was probably five or six, he guessed. Sadness filled her voice as she explained, “We can’t keep them anymore.”
“I see.” In spite of Tanner’s reluctance to get involved, her innocence evoked a memory long buried inside him. Had he ever been that guileless?
“What happened to your face, Mr. Cowboy?” The question was open and honest. Tanner liked her steady stare better than others’ quick gawks. Empathy beamed out from her blue eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I scratched myself on a wire fence.”
“People stare at you.” She nodded. “They stare at me, too. It’s ’cause we’re different.”
“They stare at you because you’re beautiful.” Affection for this spunky child flared inside him. “And because you’re special.” He meant her Down syndrome.
“I’m not special.” She shook her blond head firmly. “I’m just me. Mama says I’m exactly the way God made me.” The happiness wreathing her round face made Tanner wish he’d had a mother like hers. His brain skittered away from that sensitive subject.
“Where is your mom?” Tanner glanced around curiously.
“Getting my brother.” She pointed to a young woman with glossy, shoulder-length hair. It was clear the mom was trying to reason with a reluctant boy whom she held by one arm as she drew him forward. Her brightly flowered sundress billowed around her slim figure. She looked too young to have a daughter and a son. “That’s Davy. He gets mad. A lot.”
“What’s your name?” Tanner forced his gaze from the brunette’s lovely face to the girl in front of him. Mother and daughter shared translucent skin that seemed to bloom from within, but that’s where the resemblance between the cute mom and this blonde sweetheart ended.
“I’m Beth. I’m almost six.” When she grinned, dimples appeared in her apple cheeks.
“Pleased to meet you, Beth.” Tanner held out a hand. He suppressed a laugh when she shook it heartily, her face completely serious. Beth’s trusting gaze made him feel ten feet tall.
“Cowboys have horses, don’t they?” Beth scanned the parking lot with a frown.
“Yes.” Tanner choked down his mirth. “But today I left Samson at the ranch.”
Beth’s mother arrived breathless, studying him with a protective look flickering in her cocoa-toned eyes. Beauty certainly ran in this family.
“Hello. I’m Tanner Johns. Beth was just asking if I’d take her rabbits to my ranch.”
“Will you?” A desperation the harried mother couldn’t mask leached through her words before she huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m Sophie Armstrong. This is my son, Davy—David.”
“So can you take the rabbits?” The pleading in Sophie’s voice was hard enough to resist, but that sound—half hope, half desperation—that’s what got to Tanner. “I’d be very grateful.”
“I—uh—” You should have walked away, Tanner.
“Do we have to give them all away, Mama?” Beth’s gaze implored her mother to rethink her decision.
“I’m sorry but we do, honey. Mrs. Jones is very upset that the bunnies got out of their pen again and ate her flowers.” The gentleness of Sophie’s “mom” voice and the tender brush of her fingers against her daughter’s flaxen head didn’t need translation. She loved this child.
“Who cares about stupid old rabbits?” Davy scoffed. “Good riddance.”
The words were a bluff to hide his anger. Tanner knew that because as a kid he’d used that same tone when life had jabbed him with reality once too often. But when Beth’s blue eyes watered and her bottom lip wobbled, Tanner’s chest tightened.
“Davy, that’s mean,” his mother reproved. “Beth loves the rabbits.”
“She shouldn’t. We always have to let go of stuff we love.” The boy turned away to scuff his toe against a hump in the pavement, head bent, shoulders stiff.
Sophie’s face fell and her amazing smile dimmed. Though Tanner understood the pain behind the words, he wanted to ream out the kid for hurting his lovely mother and sister.
Whoa! You don’t do getting involved, Tanner, his brain scoffed. Never have, though Burt tried his best to teach you. Walk away.
But two pairs of eyes, one a rich Arizona sky blue and one dark as the dust trails on Mount Lemmon’s highest slopes, wouldn’t let him leave.
“I can’t—that is, uh, I don’t know anything about keeping rabbits.” Tanner gazed longingly at his truck, his way of escape. Why had he answered Beth’s call in the first place?
“Okay, thanks anyway.” Sophie smiled politely as her fingers squeezed Beth’s shoulder. “Come on, kids. Let’s get these guys loaded up. We’ll have to take them to the pet shelter. I don’t dare take them home again or Mrs. Jones will call the landlord.”