The Ranch Stud

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Patience flushed. What could she say to that? Not only am I thinking of Alec, but I felt for one lost, helpless second that some small, deeply wonderful, deeply ardent part of Alec was still alive in you? If she said that to Josh, he would think she was nuts. And maybe, Patience scolded herself shakily, she was. After all, these were not normal thoughts she was having. Nor was hers a normal response. Alec had been out of her life for years now, as Josh had pointed out earlier. Seventeen years. She should not still be carrying a torch for him. She should not be thinking of him when another man was kissing her. And she was. Why, she didn’t know. No one else that she had kissed since the breakup had stirred up thoughts of Alec. So why Josh? Why now? Was it the passion? The fact that just one kiss from him made her tingle from her head to her toes. Or was it something else? Like her loneliness combined, in some odd way, with Max’s passing and the crazy terms of his will. Terms that meant to see her married, pronto—to Josh, no less. Or was it simply the news that Alec was dead, the knowledge that she would never see him again, that had her conjuring up his ghost?

  Josh’s eyes remained full of questions she had no desire to answer. “I have to get out of here,” Patience said. Before I lose my mind, if I haven’t already.

  She swept past him and ran out into the night. Josh was fast on her heels. Catching up with her as they neared the rear doors of the studio, he caught her arm and tugged her around to face him. “Patience, listen to me. Max was right. You can’t go on like this.”

  Patience balled her hands into fists and released a frustrated breath. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  He clasped her shoulders, crowding her and forcing her to face him when she would have bolted. “Let go of the past, Patience,” he ordered in a low, gruff voice.

  He didn’t know what he was asking! Patience shook her head and replied in a low, anguished voice. “I can’t.” Didn’t he think she had already tried, over and over again?

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” he murmured, dropping his hands from her shoulders to her back and taking her into the strong, warm cradle of his arms again.

  And this time, as he kissed her, there was nothing of Alec in the embrace—if there ever had been. There was only Josh. Only the fierce pressure of his lips on hers, the warm cage of his arms, the demanding hardness of his body. He kissed her and kissed her until she felt like swooning, until she clung to him and whimpered low in her throat, until she kissed him back the way he was kissing her, with every fiber of her being. And only then, only when she had surrendered herself to the moment, and to him, and whatever it was they were sharing, did he let her go.

  She stumbled backward, her hand pressed to her lips. Again, she was shaking from head to toe, as much from what she had felt as what she hadn’t.

  How could it be, she thought, that he had kissed her twice in the space of ten minutes and the two experiences were totally different? How could she have felt this man—this strong, hell-for-leather cowboy—was in any way connected to the gentle and sensitive Alec she had once known and loved? The two were as different as night and day. Which meant…what? Was she losing it? Or was there something—some connection between the two men—mystical or otherwise—that she was feeling in her heart, in her gut, that she just wasn’t able to identify? Patience wondered. Or was this all because of something much more basic, something Josh— with all his intuitiveness where she was concerned—was already seeing? Was it all because she was reluctant to go on, to risk her heart and soul again for fear she’d be left at the altar? Again.

  “It’s going to be an uphill road for us, isn’t it?” Josh guessed grimly, towering over her.

  Patience shrugged and figured for both their sakes that she might as well be one hundred percent honest about that, even if she had to do it wryly. She picked up the bouquet of gardenias she had left on the steps earlier. “Did you really think, given the terms of Max’s will, it’d be anything but?”

  “Guess not.” He paused as she got her house key out of the pocket of her jeans. Without warning, his look turned almost unbearably compassionate. “Look, you were right earlier, when we first started to go inside. It has been a long, grueling day, for you especially. So feel free to take your time in that bath you wanted earlier,” he said, lounging against the railing as she unlocked the door. “I’m not sure there’s any of that lavender soap you like around. There’s not much call for it among the men, but—”

  Patience stopped in the act of opening the door, her inner warning system on full alert once again. She swung around to regard him incredulously. “What’s wrong?” Josh asked, clearly having no clue. Her low voice reverberating with suspicion, Patience advanced on him and demanded, “How did you know I liked lavender soap?”

  Chapter Four

  Dear Patience,

  My fiancé thinks I am less than perfect in a million tiny and not so tiny ways. What should I do?

  Sincerely,

  Hopelessly Flawed

  Dear Hopelessly Flawed,

  If you have to change everything about you to be the woman in his life, he’s not the man for you, and you’re not the woman for him. Chalk it up to a bad match, honey, and head for a new and better trail.

  Getting the Heck Out of Dodge, Too,

  Patience

  “Max must’ve mentioned it,” Josh said.

  Patience regarded Josh, so stunned she could barely speak. “Max didn’t know.” It was something she’d picked up and then later abandoned her first year of college.

  “Then someone here on the ranch,” Josh suggested.

  Patience’s pulse jumped erratically. “No one here knows that, either,” she said.

  “But I did,” Josh retorted, persisting amiably. “And I must’ve gotten that knowledge from somewhere.”

  “My point exactly,” Patience muttered as she led the way into her writing studio. That eerie I’ve-just-landed-in-the-twilight-zone feeling of deja vu was hitting her stronger than ever.

  Josh shrugged. “Then maybe it was an unconscious thing.”

  He glanced around cursorily at the comfortable oak office furniture and state-of-the-art computer, laser printer, fax, phone and copier. A coatrack, small television and stereo took up one wall, bookshelves and oak file cabinets two others, floor-to-ceiling windows another. Unable to shake the feeling something suspicious was going on here, Patience sank into the padded swivel chair behind the desk.

  “Maybe I noticed the scent of lavender on your skin or in your hair,” Josh continued.

  He certainly had been close enough, Patience thought as she struggled to take command of the situation. There was only one problem with that theory. She tapped the toes of her boots against the edge of her desk. “I don’t use lavender soap anymore, Josh.”

  His composure intact, he continued to look at her. “How come?”

  Because Alec gave me a whole case of it the one and only Christmas we were together. And I unceremoniously tossed it all out when he jilted me, along with nearly everything else he had given me. “Because I associate lavender soap with my freshman year in college and I’ve outgrown it.”

  Josh’s gray eyes lit up with a distinctly male, distinctly sensual interest. “What fragrance do you wear, then?” he asked softly.

  “Chanel No. 5.”

  He sat on the edge of her desk, leaned in close to her and drew a breath. “I wouldn’t have recognized it—I’m no expert on perfumes, but it’s… nice.”

  Hand on his chest, holding him at bay, Patience kept her eyes on his and refused to be distracted. “That still doesn’t explain how you knew I was once crazy about lavender soap.” And she was far too shrewd to be convinced it was a lucky guess on his part.

  “I know,” Josh retorted with mock solemnness. To Patience’s frustration, he didn’t seem to be trying all that hard to recall the basis of his startlingly intimate knowledge of her. “Guess it’ll always be a mystery,” he continued. “Not that I am all that surprised I have a tidbit like that randomly stored away
in my memory bank.” He picked up a glass paperweight from her desk and shifted it from hand to hand. “The men around here never stop talking about you, you know. It’s always Patience this and Patience that….”

  Patience plucked the paperweight out of his hands and put it back on her desk. “That’s because I spent a lot of time hanging out at the horse operation when I was a kid. The old-timers like Slim and Soaring Eagle are all surrogate family to me.”

  Josh paused and looked around behind him at the dictionary and thesaurus Max had supplied for her. “Is it possible one of those guys—say, Slim or Rusty, for instance—noticed the scent of lavender on your skin when you were home for a visit while you were in college, at Christmas or something, and remarked on it, only to have you tell them that it was the new soap you were using?”

  “Maybe.” Patience hesitated. “I don’t really recall that ever happening—”

  “But it could have,” Josh said.

  “Yes,” Patience admitted with a shrug. “I mean, they’re not shy about paying me compliments. They do that nearly every time they see me. These days they’re always telling me I look great, or something. When I was growing up, they remarked on it every time I grew an inch or changed my hair.”

  Briefly, Josh’s glance turned envious. “You’re lucky to have so many who’ve loved and watched over you through the years,” he murmured enigmatically.

  “I know,” Patience replied, pushing to her feet once again. She sighed as she looked around the writing studio. Clearly, Uncle Max had gone all out for her here. “If only-”

  Josh rose and followed her to the windows. “What?”

  Patience stared out at the velvety black darkness. “If only I could just meet the man of my dreams,” she said softly. And maybe, just maybe, I did today?...

  Josh shifted restlessly beside her. “Or more specifically, the man who will replace Alec?”

  Patience didn’t like the low edge of jealousy in his voice. She turned so the row of floor-to-ceiling windows was at her back. “You are overstepping your bounds here, Josh,” she warned.

  He took her in with a narrow-eyed glance and suggested in a low, insinuating tone, “Maybe it’s time someone did.”

  Patience bristled. If Josh had meant to get her full attention, he just had. “What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  “This guy Alec ditched you at the altar, right?” Patience would have preferred to forget that, but it was easier said than done when she could still recall what was to have been her wedding day with devastating clarity, just like it was yesterday. It had been Valentine’s Day, and it was snowing, and she was standing there in the most incredibly beautiful white satin wedding gown and veil.

  “HE’S LATE. He’s really late,” Patience worried aloud to Cody and Trace as she paced the small anteroom adjacent to the vestibule.

  “Maybe he got caught up in traffic,” her older brother, Trace, suggested.

  Patience shook her head, feeling desperate and near tears. She was sure something was wrong. “His dorm is three blocks from the church. He could have walked here and back ten times by now and he’s always on time.”

  “Look, we’ll go out and see if we can find him,” her younger brother, Cody, offered after a moment as he picked up on the depth of her unease.

  Again, Patience shook her head. “His roommate, William, has already done that. Besides, Alec’ll show up,” she reassured them all fervently as she clutched her bouquet with trembling fingers. “I know he will.”

  But to her increasing mortification and embarrassment, Alec didn’t show up. Not that half hour, or the next, or the next. An hour and a half after the ceremony was to have begun, the minister came back to where she was still waiting. Patience could hear the organist playing valiantly in the background. Above that was the murmur of voices, which were growing louder and more distressed by the moment. “My dear…” the minister said gently, taking her hands.

  Patience gulped. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. Worse, she felt like a fool in the elaborate wedding gown she had spent hours picking out, to the detriment of all her college classes. She faced the minister with as much courage as she could muster, knowing her cheeks were hot with embarrassment and had been that way for hours now. “Still no word?” she asked, hoping to hear something different.

  “His roommate just got back. He wants to speak to you. “The minister smiled and left to get William.

  “If he’s jilted you,” Cody murmured beneath his breath, looking even more hot-tempered than usual, “I swear I’ll kill him!”

  “Take a number and stand in line,” Trace added dangerously. Turning to her, he patted her shoulder like the intensely protective older brother he was. “Cody’s right. If Alec Vaughn has jilted you, he’s dead meat. You won’t have to worry about him bothering you ever again. Cody and I’ll see to that.” Trace compressed his lips grimly. “Hell, we’ll even get Max to help!”

  The sound of a throat clearing had them all looking up. “Well?” Patience asked Alec’s roommate anxiously. “What were you able to find out?” Please, she thought, tell me he’s fallen on the ice and broken his ankle. Tell me his tux didn’t fit and he had to run to the formal wear shop to get another one, or that he over-slept. Tell me anything except he’s not coming!

  William’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t want to tell you earlier, because I was hoping I was wrong and I didn’t want to upset you, but now it looks like I’ve got no choice. Alec left campus the night before last. He took a suitcase with him.”

  Patience’s heart was pounding but she forced herself to stay calm and not jump to any conclusions just yet. Alec hadn’t mentioned any trip to her, but there was probably a perfectly logical explanation for that, as he never did anything without a damn good reason. He was the type of person who always, always thought things through. That was one of the things she loved about him. “Where was he going?”

  William shrugged reluctantly and tugged at the starched white collar of his tux. “He didn’t say. He just asked me to cover for him in case you called yesterday or this morning. So I did, telling you he was at the library, working on that paper he had due today, or in the shower, but I swear to you, Patience, Alec never said anything about not showing up for the ceremony. ‘Cause if he had, well, you know I would never be part of hurting you.”

  And William hadn’t. Alec had.

  “SO YOU NEVER SAW ALEC again after that.” Josh’s voice brought Patience gently back to the present. “At least so far as Max knew,” he added.

  Finding the small but well-appointed room claustro-phobic, she pushed on out into the hall and into the adjacent living room of the two-story log cabin home. It was small but cozy, with deep cranberry red sofas, glowing wood floors and colorful rag rugs scattered throughout. Patience stepped around the suitcases and the cat carrier she had brought in with her upon arrival but had not bothered to take upstairs and put away. A quick glance around revealed that her Persian cat, Tweedles, who did not much care for strangers, had taken cover at the sound of voices—probably upstairs.

  “How could I?” she asked Josh quietly in return, surprised to hear her voice sound so normal when her heart was aching so. “I couldn’t find him.”

  For a moment, Josh went absolutely still. Then he moved to the fieldstone fireplace and lounged against it negligently, bracing his shoulders against the mantel. “You’re saying you looked?”

  Patience shrugged one shoulder, briefly averted her glance and turned away. “I had to deal with his college roommate,” she explained, aware her voice had turned a little defensive. “William was supposed to notify me the moment Alec showed up again, so I could go over and confront him in person.”

  “Only Alec never showed,” Josh guessed without inflection.

  “Not even to collect his things.” Patience passed a hand over her eyes. “He didn’t finish the term,” she continued numbly. “Didn’t come back for anything.” Not that year or any other while she was still
at Yale. Nor had he transferred to another university, because Patience had checked. It had been as if he had fallen off the face of the earth the day he decided not to marry her. And for that, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she had ruined a part of his life as much as he had ruined a part of hers.

  “Max figured if that happened it was probably for the best. In fact, he hoped you would never see him.”

  Patience sighed. “So did I, after a while.” In fact, for a while—when she had finally realized he wasn’t coming back to her, not ever—she had really hated Alec.

  “I disagree. I think you should have had your day to confront him.”

  Something in his low voice got to her. Patience tipped her face up to his. “What makes you so sure of that?” she asked. She was beginning to understand why Max had confided in Josh about something so personal. When it came right down to it, he was easy to talk with. Compassionate, too.

  “It’s just nature,” Josh said gently, moving away from the fireplace and following her to the sofa. He covered her hand with his own. “We see it when the worst happens and a mare delivers a dead foal. The mare won’t stop looking for her foal until she has a chance to nuzzle the stillborn baby and experience the death and sense of loss firsthand. It’s the same for humans. And since you never had a chance to confront Alec for jilting you, maybe that, and not any lingering love, is what has kept you from really moving on with your life.”

  Patience knew the lack of closure, of any final illuminating argument with Alec, would haunt her forever.

  “You want my advice?” Josh asked finally.

  There was no point in feeling sorry for herself, Patience knew. Her chin took on a stubborn tilt as she regained her equilibrium and retorted flippantly, “Absolutely not, but I suppose you’re going to give it anyway.”