The Cowboy and the Calendar Girl

by Nancy Martin

  Becky laughed. “So, that was it! You were showing off for Miss Hardwick all along!”

  Hank draped his arm across Becky’s shoulders. “Listen, Beck, if you really want to marry Chester Roswell, go ahead. I’ll even come to the wedding and give you matching saddles for a wedding present. He’s not so bad.”

  Becky stretched up and kissed Hank’s cheek. “If he leaves your girlfriend alone, you mean?”

  “She’s not my—”

  “Yeah, sure. Don’t lie to me, Henry.” Becky climbed the fence easily, tossing her taunts down at her brother. “You two were making goo-goo eyes at each other all last evening and this morning, too. And if you want to keep your sleeping arrangements a secret, you’ll have to work a little harder. Your bed hasn’t been slept in.”

  “Oh, jeez.”

  Sitting astride the fence, Becky said, “You could have done worse, you know. I like her a lot And not just because she’s going to give us a bushel of money. She’s fun.”

  “Yeah,” Hank admitted. “I know.”

  “And thoughtful. I liked the story she told us last night about her father’s travel agency.”

  “Yeah, she’s funny.”

  “And she had you going on politics, too. I never heard you argue like that before. She had you on the ropes, Mr. Columnist.”

  Hank remembered Carly’s heated argument with a grin. If she could hold her own in a political debate with Henry Fowler, she was made of sterner stuff than most women.

  “And she’s good-looking,” Becky continued. “What are you waiting for, Henry?”

  “Maybe it’s just a fling.”

  Becky gave an unladylike snort.

  “Okay,” Hank said more seriously, “I’ve got a life somewhere else, that’s why. So does she. It’s complicated.”

  “What about that phone call you had yesterday. It was your editor, right? What did he want?”

  Hank shot an amused glance up at his sister. “You must have pressed him for a few details when he first called.”

  “A few,” Becky admitted. “He says your column has been sold to a few more papers and there’s interest in a big syndication deal. You’re expanding into a whole new region. That sounds big.”

  “It is,” Hank said. “It also means travel, lots of changes. I can’t just cover Seattle and the Northwest anymore. They want me to start doing resorts and country inns in California and ski resorts in Utah and Idaho. Who knows what else.”

  “Henry, that’s wonderful!”

  Hank shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I’m not really a mainstream kind of writer, sis. I’m the grouchy guy who complains about politics and whatever occurs to me, and I—well, gallivanting around posh wine country and spiffy resorts isn’t exactly my cup of tea.”

  “I’ll bet you can put your own stamp on the idea, though.”

  “They want somebody to check out bike trails, white-water rafting, golf courses—”

  “Mountains, too?”

  “I could probably squeeze in some climbing.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s the kind of outdoor stuff I enjoy.”

  “I think you could do it all with the Henry Fowler flavor.”

  “Maybe,” he said pensively. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “And Carly might fit into your plans somehow.”

  “We’ve got a few things to straighten out first.”

  “Such as?”

  There were a great many things Hank wanted to discuss with Carty, but there would be plenty of time for that. First, however, he needed to tell her the truth about his own life and why he’d been keeping it a secret from her.

  The longer he waited, the worse it all felt to him.

  But he put on a cheerful front for Becky.

  “Such as nothing you need to worry about,” Hank replied, giving her bandanna an affectionate tug.

  “Have it your way.” Becky tousled Hank’s hair and gazed across the corral. “What do you suppose Chet is telling Carly right now?”

  Hank looked in the same direction and saw Chet talking faster than a steer could bolt out of a rodeo chute. Something on Carly’s face gave Hank a moment’s discomfort. She looked decidedly startled. And it wasn’t because Chet had his hand on her arm again.

  Hank said, “What the hell is he telling her?”

  “I can’t imagine.” Becky swung down from the fence and started to follow Hank across the corral. “Just don’t punch him, okay?”

  Talking with Chet, Carly learned a few things she didn’t comprehend at first.

  “It’s a great day for riding, Miss Carly.”

  Feeding time was over, so she put Baby back into the makeshift pen Chet had constructed out of chicken wire. She hardly heard most of what Chet talked about and answered him automatically. “It certainly is.”

  “How about if I go catch us a couple of horses and saddle up?” He leaned on one of the posts of the pen. “We could mosey out to a little place I know. Maybe you’d like to take a look at the mountains.

  “Well, actually, Hank and I are going for a ride later.”

  “Why, shoot,” Chet drawled delightedly. “You might as well go riding with me this afternoon, Miss Carly. Henry’s certainly not going to take you out if he can help it. Why, he hates horses more than most men hate shopping.”

  “What?”

  Her expression must have been amusing because Chet began to chuckle. “You didn’t notice? Hell, he’s practically allergic to ’em. I’ve never known a man who gets himself thrown off as much as Henry does.”

  “I thought he was terrific on a horse.”

  “A carnival pony, maybe!” Chet laughed out loud.

  Hank and Becky arrived at that moment, and Carly looked up at Hank with curiosity. He glared at Chet with steel in his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Becky asked, looking down into the pen. “Is that pup ready to go back to the wild?”

  “Of course not,” Carly said at once, forgetting Hank’s look and coming to Baby’s defense. “She’s too young.”

  “We can’t keep her here. She doesn’t belong on a ranch.”

  Carly said, “I’ll think of something.”

  “We’ll have the vet look at her when he comes. We have to be careful. She’s a wild animal, no matter how cute she looks to you.”

  Chet laughed. “Miss Carly’s just about ready to take this little pup to obedience school.”

  Becky gave him a quelling glance. “Chet, how about if you give me a hand moving those calves to another field?”

  “Sure, honey. Carly says she’s goin’ ridin’ with Henry. Isn’t that a laugh?” Chet chortled and put his arm around Becky. Together, they headed back to the corral.

  As they departed, Becky could be heard lecturing him in a low, firm voice. Chet defended himself in a whine.

  Frowning after them, Carly asked, “What did he mean? I don’t think he likes you, Hank.”

  “Chet and I have a feud going,” Hank replied easily, fingering a lock of her hair. “Nothing serious, just a couple of male egos that couldn’t stand each other from the moment we looked over the tops of our cribs at each other. How about a walk?”

  Carly switched her frown from Chet to Hank and felt a niggle of suspicion start in her mind. But she smiled. “I thought we were going riding.”

  “I’ve got something to show you instead. Come on.”

  They left the main buildings of the ranch and strolled along a fence that ran toward the mountains from the barns. The long grass swished as they walked, and a slight cool breeze ruffled Hank’s hair. In the pasture several horses lifted their heads from grazing as they passed.

  Carly inhaled the fresh air with newfound pleasure. Then she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve been trying to quit smoking for years. I just realized I haven’t even thought about cigarettes for days. This place is good for me, after all.”

  As they walked, the scenery seemed to grow more
magnificent to Carly—especially since she could keep the Fowler house in sight. She did not want to find herself lost in the wilderness again. The land seemed to expand around her, the horizon slipping farther and farther into the distance.

  They walked a mile, perhaps more. The ground rose gradually, and at last Carly realized they had arrived at the top of a long, sloping plateau. From the summit, she thought she could see hundreds of miles in every direction. The sheer distance amazed her. The majesty of those rolling waves of grass took her breath away. She stopped and stood very still, a gasp caught in her throat.

  Behind her, Hank said, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Wonderful. The grass looks like an ocean.”

  Hank put his arm around her and pulled Carly back against his chest. “I learned to rock climb up here.”

  “Really?”

  “I graduated to mountains, but this is where it all started.”

  “You climb mountains? You mean hiking or with axes and cables?”

  “The real deal—ice climbing. It scares my mother to death. I’m not world-class, but I love it.” He looked out at the vista that sprawled around them. “I used to come up here as a boy and just let my imagination take over.”

  Carly followed his gaze and leaned back into his frame. “It’s hard to believe people actually came across distances like these to make their homes. You must be very proud of your family.”

  A low laugh vibrated in his chest. “Proud, yes. Sometimes I think they were crazy, too.”

  “I’m getting the impression you haven’t always been in sync with your family.”

  “Not always,” he agreed, then struggled to continue. “We’re rooted here, you see, in this beautiful place. But—well, take that pup for instance.”

  Not sure where the conversation was going, Carly jumped to a conclusion. “She’s too young to be set free, Hank. She’ll die. Surely you see—”

  “I know, I know. But she’s meant to be in her natural habitat. We can’t change that.”

  “I don’t want her for a pet.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Carly.” Hank turned her around until they were facing each other. His face was set with concentration. “What I mean is, animals aren’t like people. Or rather—well—”

  She thought he was getting unusually flustered. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I love this ranch,” Hank went on doggedly, his hands firm on her shoulders. “The land means something to me. It’s where my-family belongs, and I’m ready to do anything to make sure things stay that way.”

  “I see,” Carly murmured. An awful lump seemed to have sprouted in her throat suddenly. He’s trying to tell me we’re finished. We can’t be together because he belongs here and I don’t

  He continued speaking, but Carly didn’t mentally catch up until he was saying, “Becky’s the important factor, you see. The ranch is her life, and I—well, I agreed to help her keep it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “There’s been financial trouble in the past, and Becky needs some serious cash to keep the place going. That’s why she entered your contest.”

  Carly tried to switch mental gears, but her emotions were boiling to the point that not much was making sense. “You’ll be getting the ten thousand, I promise.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Bert found the right photographer. She’ll be coming tomorrow, if everything works out. We can take your pictures as soon as she gets here.”

  Hank blanched and laughed wryly. “I’ll have to go through with this, won’t I?”

  Carly managed a smile. “It’ll be a snap. Don’t worry. I won’t make you take off your shirt unless you want to.”

  He laughed. “I won’t want to!”

  “Alexis will make it fun.”

  “Alexis?” he repeated, feigning dismay. “A woman?”

  “Not just one,” Carly shot back, amused. “She’ll be bringing Rachel, the makeup artist, and probably Deneesa, who does the lighting.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Trust me,” Carly soothed with a smile. “They’ll be much easier on you than the guys we usually hire. Mark has been known to make grown men weep.”

  “Carly...”

  “Yes?”

  Hank held her in his arms and lost himself in the warm gaze she tilted up at him. He loved looking at the sharp planes of her face—the classic curves of her cheekbones, the inquisitive point of her nose, the luscious lips that tasted as delicious as any wine he’d ever enjoyed. The life force that burned behind her eyes was strong enough to make a man forget everything else in the world.

  Just looking down at her made Hank’s mind go blank.

  He gave up trying to explain himself and kissed her instead. A long, sweet kiss that promised much more.

  A better time would come, he thought dimly, parting her mouth and delving deep inside. For now, all he wanted was to lose himself in the woman in his arms.

  The following morning, Carly was summoned from her bed by Becky who called through the door that Bert was on the phone again.

  “What’s going on?” Hank muttered, rolling over when Carly climbed out of the bed and into her robe.

  “Go back to sleep,” she whispered softly. “I’ve got a phone call from Bert.”

  “Kiss me,” he commanded in a murmur. “So I won’t be jealous.”

  Touched and amused, she obeyed and tucked him back into the warm bedclothes once again.

  Downstairs, Carly picked up the receiver, and said, “This had better be an emergency.”

  Bert began laughing. “Why? Were you sleeping late? Or otherwise occupied?”

  “Never mind,” Carly said tartly, but unable to stop smiling. “Don’t spoil my mood.”

  “Boy, you must be having a great time,” Bert said. “I almost hate to end your vacation.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “A spot of legal trouble, I’m afraid. A bunch of lawyers called from New York, claiming we violated a copyright law with the last calendar. They want half a million dollars, and they’re coming to get it.”

  “What copyright law? Everything was perfectly straight with the photos we used.”

  “Can you prove that?”

  “Yes,” Carly said, sure of herself. “I have all the paperwork in a file.”

  “Is it something I can handle?”

  Carly considered the situation. It wasn’t the first time some entrepreneurial lawyers came looking to take a cut out of Twilight’s profits. She knew this bunch was just fishing, too. There was a good chance Bert could handle the problem, but Bert had been known to drop the ball under pressure.

  “When are they coming?”

  “They’re on a plane right now.”

  Carly groaned. “A preemptive strike. All right, I’ll come as soon as I can make arrangements. You’ll have to stall them until I get there.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Before sunset, I hope. Get off the phone and let me call the airlines.”

  “Carly,” said Bert, before she hung up, “thanks. I owe you.”

  She smiled ruefully. “I’ll collect eventually.”

  Upstairs shortly thereafter, Carly broke the news to a sleepy Hank.

  “My plane leaves in six hours. It will take me that long to find the airport.”

  He woke up fast and caught her wrist, his expression concerned. “Let me drive you.”

  Pleased that he was ready to help her, Carly shook her head and tried to make her voice sound more cheerful than she was feeling. “I can find the airport by myself. Besides, you’re needed here today. Becky tells me the buyers are coming for your cattle. You’ll have to be here for that, right?”

  “Well—Carly, listen.” Hank sat up in bed, his bare chest looking so stunning in the light of day that it was hard for Carly to keep her hands off him. He was serious, though, and said, “There’s something you’d better hear from me before you leave.”

  “Sure,” she said, g
etting up hastily lest the temptation to touch him grew too strong to resist. She began throwing clothes into her suitcase. “But do you mind telling me while I shower? I’ve got to rush.”

  Hank sank back into the pillows. “No, that’s okay. What I need to explain will have to be spelled out pretty clearly. I’ll wait.”

  Carly swooped down and planted a hot kiss on his mouth. “There. Think of me while I’m in the shower.”

  He grinned. “You bet.”

  It was best, Carly thought later on the plane, to leave in a rush. There had been no time for a sappy scene with tears and a lot of stupid promises. Instead, they had parted in a very public spot on the porch with Becky and Chet watching unabashedly.

  Deciding a handshake would be silly, Carly started to get into the rented Jeep as quickly as possible. But Hank pulled her back out into the sunlight. “Hold it.”

  “But—”

  He stopped her protest with his mouth, kissing Carly right in front of his sister and Chet. It was a good kiss, too—full of passion and heat.

  When he released her, Carly said in a shaky voice, “I guess we’re not keeping this a secret anymore?”

  “I want to shout it from the top of the weather vane,” he replied with an intimate smile, leaning his forehead against hers. “Besides, I think Becky knows everything.”

  “How did she guess?”

  “If I tell you, you’ll blush.”

  Smiling, Carly closed her eyes and tried to commit to memory every feeling she experienced at that moment. There were too many—all confused, but wonderful. She inhaled a breath and drew away unwillingly.

  “Take care of Baby for me,” she called as she got into the Jeep.

  Yes, a quick departure had been best. Carly had forced herself not to cry by concentrating on driving, then on finding her plane in the airport. Seated on the flight at last, she kept her face turned to the small window and tried to memonze every moment she’d spent with Hank Fowler.

  It had felt like lust, she thought. But Carly found herself believing it was love that had grown so quickly between them.

  Nothing else could have felt so strong, so magnetic.

  The whole way back to L.A., she tried to think of ways she could spend the rest of her life with Hank Fowler. But all her plans seemed to involve blowing up the Fowler ranch.