Crazy About a Cowboy

by Barbara McMahon

  Sanity returned slowly. He leaned back and gazed into her eyes.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to marry me again. I’m crazy about you. And you still feel something for me, I know it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Those days in Houston were as close to perfect as we can get. I didn’t want them to end.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “And this bit about Joey spending one week at the ranch and one week here is for the birds. He needs both parents and we owe it to him to provide him a safe, secure home.”

  “I agree.”

  “So no arguments, I want you to marry me and stay with me forever this time.”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled back and tilted his head to one side. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She laughed joyfully. “Yes, to getting married. Yes, to giving Joey a united family. Yes, to living on the ranch, and yes to being crazy about you. That’s why I went to the ranch. I was going to talk to you about that very thing. I love you, Sam. I did before, I did while we were apart and I still do. It obviously isn’t going to change.”

  “I’m crazy about you, Lisa Haller.” He kissed her quickly, then picked her up and spun her around.

  Her shrieks of laughter drew Joey’s attention.

  “Daddy, swing me, too!” he yelled, running over to his parents.

  “Sure thing, partner. Guess what? Your mama just agreed to come to the ranch. We’re all going to live there, what do you think about that?” Sam picked his son up and held the two of them in his arms.

  “Really?” Joey’s eyes grew big as he looked from Sam to Lisa.

  “Really,” she concurred. “As soon as your daddy and I get married.”

  “Not today, huh?” Sam asked, his eyes twinkling.

  “Not today. But soon?”

  “Soon as we can make it. I’ll call about getting a license first thing tomorrow. Wish the courthouse was open today.”

  Lisa felt sheltered in the arms of the man she loved. True, he hadn’t said he loved her. But maybe he didn’t know the words. Or the feelings.

  “Sam?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you like me more than your horse?”

  He looked at her as if she’d gone crazy. “What kind of dumb fool question is that? Of course I like you better than my horse.”

  “Better than Nick?”

  He took a moment to consider the question, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe. Different, that’s for sure.”

  Lisa smiled. “How about Joey?”

  “Same different, but yeah, maybe a shade better. What’s got into you?”

  “Nothing.” He loved her. He just didn’t say the words. ‘Crazy about you’ would have to do. Her love blossomed and consumed her as she reached up to kiss him gently on the lips. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispered.

  “Me, too, babe. Me, too!” He hesitated a minute, then set Joey down. “Run play, Joey. I have something else to talk about with your mom.”

  “When can we go to the ranch?”

  “Later. We’ll go back later.”

  Lisa watched as Joey ran across the yard, yelling his delight. How could she have taken her son from his father? She would never leave again.

  “Lisa, there’s still the new baby,” Sam said.

  “I know. I’ve thought about it a lot. You’re right, I’ll probably fall in love with it the moment it’s born.”

  “I’d change that if I could.”

  She nodded. “I know you would. But we can’t. And the situation is of our own making. Each has a responsibility to it. But I love you more than I’m jealous of Margot.”

  “You needn’t be, sweetheart. I tried to replace you, but couldn’t. Margot is just a wild girl who got caught.”

  “Is two kids all you want?”

  “I want a house full, how about you?”

  Lisa nodded. Things would work out. She would make sure this time.

  Two Years Later....

  “Mommy, Mommy , Daddy’s coming!” Little Holly Haller jumped up and down on the porch in her excitement as she spotted Sam heading for the house from the barn. Joey ran along side him, talking nineteen to the dozen as usual.

  Lisa stayed on the rocker, keeping an eye on Holly so she didn’t get too excited and tumble off the steps. She’d done that once months ago when first learning to walk and scared six months out of Lisa.

  “He’ll be here in a minute, honey, don’t get near the edge.”

  Holly spun around and ran to Lisa, flinging her arms up.

  “Up!” she demanded.

  Despite her bulk, Lisa readily complied. She loved holding this child of her heart. Holly was sweet and loving and a joy to be around. The prophesy had come true. Lisa had fallen in love with Holly the day she was born the very moment, she often thought. Margot had graciously allowed both Sam and Lisa to be in the delivery room. She’d signed the adoption papers while still in the hospital.

  Every once in a while she’d drop by to see her daughter, but she had no regrets about relinquishing her care to Lisa and Sam.

  “So how are my girls today?” Sam asked, stepping up on the porch.

  “I painted, Daddy,” Holly said, struggling to get down as quickly as she had to get up.

  Lisa laughed and reached up her hands. These days she needed assistance in getting up.

  “We had a lovely day, thank you. How about you and Joey?”

  “He rode all the way to the property line without a lead, right partner?” Sam asked.

  “I did, Mommy. I can ride all by myself now.”

  At five, he was growing so fast she could hardly believe it. In September, he’d start school. She’d miss him being around all the time, but by then, his new brother or sister would have arrived to fill up her time. With Holly just two and a new baby, she’d have plenty to do.

  And Sam. She spent as much time as she could with Sam. They had so much they liked doing together, she almost resented the time they spent apart. But the ranch and her work did place certain demands.

  Which enable their time together to be all the sweeter, she’d decided long ago.

  Sam kissed her, rubbing her swollen belly gently. “I’m crazy about you,” he said for her ears alone.

  Lisa smiled. It was more than enough.

  ~ * ~

  About the Author

  Barbara McMahon is an award-winning, best selling author of more than eighty novels. Known for warm family type stories, she enjoys capturing the first stage of a relationship and showing how despite obstacles thrown in their way, a man and a woman can find true love and lasting happiness.

  Her books have been translated into 32 different languages and sold more than 16 million copies in the United States and more than 50 foreign countries.

  For more than twenty-five years she's made her home in Northern California, the last seventeen in the rural county of Amador—in the heart of the Mother Lode, California's gold rush country.

  Other electronic books now available:

  Bluebells on the Hill

  Cowboy's Bride

  One Stubborn Cowboy

  The Bachelor's Baby Promise

  Winter Stranger, Summer Lover

  Visit Barbara at : www.barbaramcmahon.com

  or on Facebook at AuthorBarbaraMcMahon

  If you enjoyed this book, you may like One Stubborn Cowboy

  Excerpt:

  One Stubborn Cowboy

  Chapter 1

  There was no warning.

  One minute Kelly Adams was calmly crossing the deserted country road heading for the old-fashioned feed and grain warehouse on the edge of town. The next moment a large pickup truck tore out of the barnlike building, its tires squealing on the pavement as it skidded in the turn. Righting itself, it headed directly for Kelly.

  Jumping out of the way at the last second, she felt surprise and fear clash within her, producing instant anger. Kelly caught her brea
th and turned after the truck.

  "Dammit, you imbecile! Watch where you're going! Do you think you own the blasted road?" Her heart was pounding at the near miss. She could have been killed!

  The truck slammed on its brakes and began backing up.

  After twenty-eight years in San Francisco with nary an accident, she couldn't believe she had almost been run down by the only moving vehicle on an otherwise deserted road. She was furious. Just who did that driver think he was to come barreling out of the building like that? There could have been children crossing the road, or an elderly person who wouldn't have moved as quickly as she had.

  "Just you wait," Kelly murmured between clenched teeth as she watched the truck draw closer.

  The pickup truck was white-and-blue with big all-terrain tires, the jacked-up body and the mud splatters along the sides giving evidence of its off-road travels. It backed up quickly, drawing to a stop beside her.

  Kelly held her ground until the cab of the truck was even with her, the throaty growl of its engine loud in the afternoon stillness. She'd often been teased she should have red hair--instead of blond-- to match her temper. It boiled over now. She'd give this reckless driver a piece of her mind. Maybe next time he wouldn't be so quick to drive so wildly.

  The truck was higher than usual. She had to look up to see into the darker interior. As the driver glared back down at her, she drew a breath in shock. If she had thought she was angry, it was nothing compared to the visage of the man facing her. Narrowed black eyes looked out at her from under a jutting brow creased in an angry frown. His eyebrows almost met, his frown was so ferocious. His lips were thinned, tight with hostility. She could feel the strength of his emotions almost envelop her.

  "What the hell did you call me?" He was a big man, with wide, strong shoulders, muscular arms, strong, chiseled features. His expression was grim, his voice harsh and deep.

  Kelly's emotions flared, her blood boiling. He had a hell of a nerve being mad.

  "I called you an imbecile. Idiot might apply, as well. Who do you think you are, pulling out like that? What if someone who couldn't move fast had been crossing the street? This is California—didn't you know pedestrians have the right of way?" she said, her teeth still gritted. She tilted her chin defiantly, her own blue eyes blazing with anger. "You could have killed me with your reckless driving! Do you think you own the damn road?" Her glare was like ice, challenging his, never wavering.

  "What did you call me?" he growled again between clenched teeth, his gaze raking her as she stood defiantly in the hot sun. His eyes moved insolently from her flushed, angry face to her breasts, heaving with emotion. Pausing only a moment, they drifted lower, to her trim waist, flaring hips and long legs encased in stone-washed jeans.

  Kelly felt a frisson of a different kind of anger run through her. How dare this man look at her like that, as if she was on exhibit! She held her ground resolutely, feeling the heat of her indignation build.

  "I called you an imbecile. You hard of hearing? You drive like a maniac, accelerating out of there like that, without seeing if anyone was in the street. Where'd you get your license, out of a cereal box?" she asked scornfully.

  For a split second Kelly wondered what she'd do if he got out of the truck. He was so big, and looked mean. But she was not about to back down.

  "You're new around here, aren't you?" he said softly, the change menacing. "So I'll give you some advice. Don't ever talk to me again like that, or you'll be sorry!" His hands were tight on the steering wheel, his face shadowed by his hat.

  Kelly shivered in spite of the hot day. She could feel his resolve as he said the words. But she had grown up in some tough neighborhoods. She wasn't easily intimidated, certainly not by some reckless cowboy in the wrong. She continued staring at him, tilting her chin defiantly.

  "Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" she flung back. Just let him open the door and try something. She knew a move or two that might surprise him. Self-defense was a way of life, a part of growing up in the city, and she'd studied different ways to keep safe.

  His lips tightened, then he let his eyes wander again insolently down the length of her, his expression changing.

  "Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Was there a trace of amusement in his tone?

  Kelly felt the wave of hot color wash over her. She wished he would get out of the truck. Her hand clenched in a tight fist. She'd like to wipe that insolent look off his face, show him she wasn't to be intimidated by some small-town, hotshot, cocky cowboy.

  Before she could reply, however, the old owner of B. J.'s Feed and Grain came around the back of the truck, slapping his hand hard against the metal side.

  "What's going on out here?" Jefferies asked, the wizened man peering between Kelly and the driver.

  "Just welcoming a newcomer," the man drawled mockingly, raising one eyebrow as if daring Kelly to challenge his audacious statement.

  Her angry gaze never left his face. His straw cowboy hat was pulled low on his forehead, throwing his face in shadow. She could make out his eyes now, despite the low brim. They were not black as she'd first thought, but a dark, stormy blue. Dark brown hair hung beneath his hat, brushing the collar of his blue checked shirt. It looked thick and springy. She wished for a second she could see him without the hat. Wished he would get down from the truck and face off. Her heart began to beat faster in anticipation.

  "You go on home, Kit. Kelly has the right of it. Next time don't pull out so fast if you can't see that the way's clear!" the old man admonished.

  With a quick glance at Jefferies the driver seemed to calm down. His gaze returned to Kelly and he touched the brim of his hat with two fingers, giving her a mocking salute. "We'll have to continue this interesting discussion at another time."

  The man put the truck in gear and accelerated, tires squealing on the blacktop as he pulled away.

  Kelly watched the truck speed down the highway, the air still charged from their encounter, her heart racing. Had he looked this time before pulling away? Probably not.

  Who was he? She hadn't met him before. Kelly would never have forgotten him. Did he live nearby?

  She turned to Jefferies, a smile settling on her face. "Thanks for coming out. I thought tor a minute he was going to get out and knock me down."

  Had she hoped he would try? She would have liked to see him up close and in her face. Was he as tall as he looked sitting in the cab of the truck?

  "Not to worry." Spying her sketch pad and pencils his face lightened. "You've come to draw the old place? Molly said you were an artist."

  She smiled and nodded, casting another quick glance at the departing truck. "That and a writer. I illustrate my own books. I wanted to sketch the feed store, if that's all right with you."

  "Sure it is. Come on in, then. Don't you go worrying about yon Kit—he's hotheaded and wild, but he doesn't come to town much anymore. He knows he was in the wrong, though it didn't make him happy, did it?" Jefferies chuckled. "Sure was fun, watching you stand up to him. Not many people do, poor boy." Jefferies shook his head as they walked into the dim feed store.

  Kelly could see no reason for Jefferies to consider that insufferable, arrogant man poor, or a boy. From the weathered look of his face he must be well into his thirties. And what he probably needed was more people to stand up to him. Who was he anyway, the town bully?

  She could tell him a thing or two. As always after an emotionally charged event, Kelly thought up several scathing comments she should have made. She glanced down the street once more, wishing she'd had a little longer to tell him off.

  Wondering if she'd ever see him again.

  It took Kelly a few minutes to calm down and capture the mood she needed to sketch pictures. Over and over her mind replayed the truck roaring toward her, the angry man driving it. Each time her heart sped up with the memory. It had been unexpected and frightening. Yet the driver had intrigued her.

  His chin was strong and firm—with maybe a hint of stubbornne
ss. He had deep lines carving his cheeks, bracketing his mouth. His skin was dark and tanned like a cowboy. But the blue eyes were unexpected, especially with his dark hair. His shoulders and height indicated a tall, large man. She remembered his muscular arms, the strong hands on the wheel. Arrogant cowboy.

  Did he live near town, come in often? Jefferies had said he didn't. Who was he?

  With an effort she dragged her thoughts back to the sketches she wanted to do. Soothed by the deft strokes of her colored pencils, she settled in to draw different scenes of the unusual store from a child's point of view, trying to capture the aspects that would appeal to children. The drawings began to take shape. But at the back of her mind echoed the question of who Kit was. And when she might see him again.