by Floyd, Susan
A little bit at a time.
And if Clem didn’t come back, he’d go out and track her down. Not to run her life or anything, but to ask whether she’d mind if he rode shotgun with her.
Calisto whinnied, and Dexter looked over his shoulder because he knew the horse wasn’t whinnying at him. A truck rumbled down the road, tires crunching the red desert sand.
His heart jumped to his throat.
Dexter climbed down off the ladder and shook paint chips out of his hat. Then he walked toward the truck as it pulled slowly to a stop. A trailer was hitched to the back, and a dog—Cowchip—barked from the passenger seat. Dex was sure that Frijole was in a cage, very unhappy.
After what seemed like an eternity, Clem opened the door and stepped out. She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a blue chambray shirt. Her head was bare, and her hair fell around her face in soft waves. She looked straight at him and walked over to him, squinting up at him as if he was a complete stranger.
“Hey,” he greeted.
She looked different. Younger, more relaxed.
“Hi. I’m looking for a Dexter Scott.” Her voice was very formal.
“You found him.”
She pulled a very tattered page from Western Horsemen out of her back pocket and pointed to a small four-line classified ad. “This says he’s looking for a good person to help with his horses. Must be willing to put in an honest day’s work. Horse and cattle experience a plus. Is the position filled?”
“Might be,” he said. He’d missed her eyes, the defiant tilt of her chin.
“Oh.” She seemed deflated, but then continued. “I have my own horses and quite a bit of experience with cattle.”
“I’m looking for someone with experience with wild cattle.”
“I’ve got that. I’ve wrestled out the biggest monsters you can imagine.”
“Oh, I can imagine.”
“So what do you think?”
“I’d need to see your references.”
She nodded. “I think that one of the ranchers I worked for might give me good references. He’s sold his ranch and he’s learning how to settle down in a retirement community in Arizona.”
Dexter felt his heart expand.
Clem said, “I was looking for a cowboy that would take me on. Someone who has a lot of experience with horses and wild cows.”
His heart throbbed. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?”
“I’m still wondering about the job.”
“It’s still open for the right man.”
“Man?”
“Person,” he amended.
“You don’t have any preconceived notions about women being as good as men?”
“None at all.”
She looked around. “You pruned the rosebush.”
He nodded. “And I fixed up the inside.”
“Looks nice.”
“It’s waiting for me to carry a special lady over the threshold.”
DEXTER WAS STANDING very close to her. She could feel him touch her with his eyes and knew that she’d made the right decision. It wasn’t until she’d seen his ad in the magazine and read between the lines that he wanted her to come home to him. Clem had been happier than she’d been in a long time. But one piece of unfinished business had still niggled. She’d needed to know if she meant as much to a certain cowboy as he did to her.
“I love you, Clem.”
The words hung in the bright desert morning.
“It’s about time you told me that,” she said.
“What?”
“I’ve been waiting since I was in the hospital for you to tell me that.”
“Blame Randy.”
“Randy?”
“Randy said that if I told you I loved you right away, you wouldn’t follow your dream.”
Clem was quiet. Randy had probably been right. And he’d probably known that after wandering around for a few months, she’d be ready to settle down, have a few kids to play on that grass Dexter said he was going to cultivate.
“You need to lock your gates,” Clem replied instead. Her heart was hammering. “I drove right through them this morning. A man could get hurt leaving all his gates open.”
“Only if he’s scared.”
“Are you scared?”
He shook his head. “Not me. I can do anything, survive anything. I can even cry.”
Clem nodded, smiling into his dear face. It was a wonder that she’d lasted as long as she had. Three whole months without him. Ninety lonely days thinking about him, wondering if he loved her as much as she loved him.
“I needed to go away. Randy knew that. You knew that.” Clem felt her throat tighten. “But I’m ready to come back and start a new life.”
She could hear him suck his breath in. “A new life?”
“One with you.”
He stared at her such a long time Clem thought maybe she was mistaken.
“Are you sure?” His voice was strained. “You can have as much time as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I think I love you, Dexter Scott.”
“You only think?”
She laughed. “I know. I knew the moment I kissed you.” Clem felt the joy of that knowledge spread through her body.
Dexter said quietly, “I knew when we rode back home after New Horse tossed me.”
They smiled, both embarrassed.
“New Horse is great,” she said awkwardly. “And I have more than one reference as to my skills. Will you take me on?”
Dexter considered her for such a long time, it was impossible for Clem to know what he was thinking. She could only see the love blazing at her from those moss-green eyes.
“Well, Scott?” she prompted, her voice husky. “What do you say about a partnership?”
Dexter pulled her into a tight hug. She could feel the accelerated thump of his heart. “Only if it’s for life.”
Clem squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. She nodded, coming to an understanding that Joanna must have known all along. “Yes. Yes. It’s all for life.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4351-4
A COWBOY FOR CLEMENTINE
Copyright © 2001 by Susan Kimoto.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Visit us at www.eHarlequin.com