The Rancher's Prospect

by Callie Endicott

  Walt Nelson had learned his lesson at a terrible cost. Tara suspected he wanted his grandson to learn it without the high price tag.

  * * *

  CARL EYED THE drunken rowdies at Ryan’s Roadhouse. He’d responded to a 911 call from the bartender, saying three out-of-towners were trashing the place.

  “Okay, fellas, I’m Sheriff Stanfield. What’s going on?”

  “None of yer frickin’ business, buddy boy,” shouted one of them, every word slurred. With no more ado, he lunged forward and threw a wild punch, too drunk to know what he was doing.

  Carl ducked easily and brought the guy to the ground, only to be struck from the side.

  He turned and saw a twenty-something biker wannabe dancing around with a knife.

  City fellow, Carl decided, probably stuck in a dead-end job and looking for a little vacation excitement. The thought alone nearly made him smile—he’d come a long way since moving to Schuyler from St. Louis. But any humor fled at the look in the other man’s eyes; most likely he was high on something other than liquor.

  “Take it easy, pal,” he said, watching carefully.

  “Can’t tell me what to do.”

  The guy lunged, and Carl grabbed the hand holding the weapon, twisted his attacker around and kicked the legs out from under him. Within seconds he was handcuffed on the floor next to his friend.

  His deputy had dealt with the third guy with equal speed.

  “Okay, Noah, let’s get them loaded in the cruiser.”

  “Adrenaline must be like Novocain, Carl,” Noah gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

  Carl glanced down and saw an expanding red stain on his khaki uniform shirt.

  Damn.

  Noah got on the radio while the white-faced bartender held out a handful of clean bar towels.

  “Thanks.” Carl pressed the towels to his rib cage. “Sorry about the mess on the floor. Noah, I’ll have this stitched later. We’ll get these yahoos into lockup first.”

  Though Noah looked doubtful, he didn’t argue. But while they were loading the trio into the back of the cruiser, another sheriff’s vehicle screeched to a stop nearby. Two men jumped out.

  “Hey, boss.” It was another one of his deputies, George Winston, and he calmly surveyed Carl’s injury. “I see you’ve sprung a leak.”

  “It’s not too bad.”

  “Good to hear, but we’ll book these guys while Noah takes you to the clinic.”

  “That won’t work—it’s closing time there,” Carl said quickly. “The one in Windy Bluffs is open later.”

  “Nope, the Schuyler clinic is expecting you.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” George crossed his arms over his chest. “Your rule, remember? You get hurt, you see the doc. Noah will drive you. Take my cruiser.”

  Carl growled under his breath and swung into the second vehicle. He’d set protocols for this type of situation but hadn’t expected to be caught in one. A minute later Noah slid behind the wheel.

  “Take me to Windy Bluffs,” Carl ordered.

  “Sorry. The Schuyler clinic is the best in the area, and you’re bleeding like a stuck pig.”

  That was the problem. Carl had spotted Lauren going to work that morning, and she might still be on duty. He didn’t want to take a chance of reminding her how much blood could come from a relatively minor knife wound.

  It was revolting that he was still hanging on to hope for a relationship.

  “How about the emergency room?” he suggested.

  “George called them. The ER said that since you’re mobile and conscious and they’re swamped right now, you’ll see someone faster at the clinic. If needed, the clinic will transfer you for hospitalization.”

  “Hospitalized for this?” Carl rolled his eyes.

  Noah pulled up at the medical clinic. The door swung open, and Lauren ran to the vehicle, followed by a nurse.

  “I’m all right,” Carl insisted. “It’s barely a scratch.”

  “Obviously it’s a little more than that,” Lauren said calmly.

  Groaning, Carl stepped down from the cruiser and followed them into the clinic. The slice across his ribs hurt, but he had enough experience to know it wasn’t serious.

  Lauren was completely professional in the exam room as she examined the wound.

  He hadn’t wanted her to see it, but now he wondered if it was just as well. It hadn’t felt entirely honest inventing excuses to see her.

  “I guess you can see what it’s like in law enforcement,” he told her as she began to clean the wound.

  She gave him several injections around the cut. “This should help with the pain while I stitch you up,” she advised, ignoring his comment.

  “Thanks. As I was saying, my work has its risks. No wonder so many women don’t want to be involved with someone in law enforcement. I’d never ask a woman to try something she didn’t think she could handle.”

  At that she looked up. Her eyes were filled with surprise and something else he didn’t recognize.

  “That’s very straightforward,” she finally responded.

  He nodded, wishing he could convince her that it was possible to tackle life together. But he didn’t have any business doing that—she’d already made her feelings plain.

  * * *

  LAUREN CAREFULLY STITCHED the cut in Carl’s side. The blood horrified her, but not because she was squeamish. She saw blood every day...just not spilling out of Carl Stanfield.

  She forced her thoughts into a detached, clinical mode. Carl didn’t need someone to break down and cry; he needed someone to take care of his injury.

  “Ordinarily the emergency room is the best place for something like this,” she said as she finished.

  “This wasn’t serious.”

  “No, it wasn’t serious, so I’m glad we could help out. You’ll need to take some time off, however, to let it heal properly. Two weeks at a minimum.”

  He made a face.

  “I mean it,” she insisted. “What if you got into another confrontation and someone punched you there? You could go down, and whoever needed your help would be out of luck.”

  There was startled respect in Carl’s eyes when she finished, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay. By the way, have you heard any more from Tara? She’s been gone a long time, and I know how much you were looking forward to her visit.”

  “She’s called a couple of times. Josh McGregor joined the camping trip and brought a satellite phone. She hasn’t wanted to stay on and run up his charges, but she’s having fun. She’s going to stay longer when she gets back, so we’ll still have the same amount of time together.”

  “Glad to hear it. Look, I hoped we—”

  “Sorry, I should get the doctor,” Lauren interrupted. “He’s staying late to check you, as well.”

  She was glad to escape the exam room and the intense emotions Carl inspired, along with whatever else he’d started to say. He had tried to tell her that he understood how she felt, but it was clear he didn’t, at least not completely.

  The risks of his job were only part of why she’d resisted getting involved. Loving a man in daily danger would be difficult, but it wasn’t the only reason.

  She didn’t know what to think. If she was less concerned about a relationship breaking down, would she be able to deal with Carl’s career, especially since it meant so much to him?

  Lauren sank into her office chair, depressed, thinking she’d probably never have the opportunity to find out.

  * * *

  AS JOSH WASHED ANOTHER load of gravel, he realized he was enjoying the interlude in the mountains, at least when he wasn’t frustrated by his libido.

  “A table would be nice for sorting,” he told Tara as he sat next to he
r on a flat rock and balanced the sieve on his knees. His jeans were perpetually damp from water dripping off the gravel, but it was easier than setting the box on the ground and bending over to sort. It was the reason Tara often wore shorts to work...which was much more comfortable for her, and excruciating for him. She had terrific legs.

  “That’s how they do it at a Montana mine I read about. People buy buckets of raw material, then wash and sort it on trays set out on tables.”

  “You sure did your research. I’ll admit that I know more about agates than gemstones. It never seemed necessary to study them, so I’m glad you did some groundwork”

  “I wanted to help Walt,” she said simply.

  “It’s admirable, especially since it isn’t easy for you to get close to people.”

  Tara was quiet for a long moment. “After a few different homes, I wouldn’t let myself care about anyone. It was safer, because I knew everything was going to get ripped away, sooner or later.”

  “Yet you seem to value what my grandfather says about Grandma Evelyn and the cost of love.”

  Tara shifted her tray. “One part of my brain accepts that love should be worth the risk, but it’s hard to overcome a lifetime of conditioning. I don’t know if you can imagine what it was like to start loving foster parents, only to have a social worker pick you up from school and say you’re being sent somewhere else. There weren’t any explanations or goodbyes, only paper bags filled with a few of my belongings.”

  Josh hated the thought that any child could be treated that way. He knew the foster care system could work out okay for kids, but it had been lousy for Tara.

  “You seem to be getting closer to Lauren,” he murmured. “I know I mentioned something about it before, but maybe meeting her is helping you open up to other possibilities.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose, but it would be harder moving from place to place if I got too attached. I have a good life, so don’t think I’m whining.”

  “I’d never think that,” he affirmed. “You seem to take everything in stride and deal with it. The ability to do that came at a high cost, but maybe it’s one of the few good things that came out of your childhood.”

  “Maybe.”

  She hurriedly jumped up and went to wash another load. Rather than return to sorting, Josh watched her work. Physically she was a stunning woman who chronically made his jeans uncomfortably tight. But as much as he hadn’t wanted to see it, there was a whole lot more to Tara than beauty.

  * * *

  JOSH STARED AT the full moon through the tree branches. This adventure had reminded him of how beautiful Montana evenings could be.

  Grandpa was snoring nearby on the raised air bed, which had turned out to be Tara’s idea, along with the odd-looking air chair. He still took pain medication, especially at night, and usually slept deeply. With the hard work, Josh normally did, also, but at the moment he was curiously alert.

  A faint noise on the other side of the fire caught his attention. It was Tara, slowly easing from her sleeping bag. Eyes half-shut, he watched as she gathered her bag of bathing supplies.

  He gulped, picturing her in the moonlight.

  The temptation was extreme.

  Carefully, he got up, as well. He hesitated before searching in his pack for the condoms he’d packed on his last trip down to the ranch. Just in case, he thought, with a hint of self-disgust—he couldn’t assume Tara wanted to make love with him again, but being prepared was an old habit.

  He grabbed his towel and made his way up the dark path.

  Tara was in the water when he arrived. She turned his direction.

  “Mind if I skinny-dip?” he asked.

  “Why not? I am.”

  Heat instantly surged through his groin. Shucking his clothing, Josh stepped into the pool and swam lazily, thoroughly warmed by the water that steamed more than usual in the cool night air.

  It felt as if he’d wandered into another world and that Tara was one of the fairy folk from the tales he’d been told as a boy. If he approached too quickly, she might disappear in a flash of silver light.

  * * *

  WHEN TARA HAD SEEN Josh at the pool’s edge, naked and already erect, various thoughts had raced through her mind. She’d come to the pool because she’d been unable to sleep. Their discussion that afternoon had left her with an ache in her gut that wouldn’t go away.

  It also annoyed her. She’d made peace with herself about her life and lack of connections, hadn’t she? But Josh was right. Discovering a twin sister and trying to form a relationship with her had changed the game. Now she felt an unaccustomed hunger for affection, a hunger she’d thought was long since under control.

  Sex wasn’t the same as love, but it was a kind of intimacy. The first time with Josh had been quick and satisfying, but if it was going to happen again, she wanted it to last longer.

  So she let him circle, waiting. If he wanted to have sex, he’d let her know. Finally he drifted within a couple feet.

  She extended a hand, and almost unerringly, their fingers met and laced. He tugged her closer.

  “You were smart to bring the air bed and chair so Grandpa doesn’t have to get down and up from ground level as often,” he murmured.

  “I bought them in Helena when I drove up to exchange my rental. Luckily I got them to extend the second rental period indefinitely by saying I’d go to another company if I had to.”

  Their legs brushed, and electricity tingled through Tara.

  Josh stroked her breasts with his other hand, teasing and coaxing, then tipped her head back to kiss her throat. It was slow and languid, the opposite of the blood pounding through her veins.

  Finally he lifted her in the water so she floated, his lips exploring each of her curves, drifting to her belly and below.

  Spasms went through Tara’s abdomen. In the back of her mind she wondered if Josh had practiced foreplay in the water with another woman or if he was just naturally gifted. Surely not here, though. He’d claimed the hot spring pool had been unknown to him before.

  Tara explored his hard frame as he pulled her to him again. She had muscles, but his seemed carved from stone...particularly when she caressed his erection. Almost as if they were dancing, they left the water. The grass was cold against her overheated back, but Josh quickly dropped down to cover her.

  When he fumbled with the condom, she took it from him and unrolled it over his hard length. A moment later he was inside her, and she climaxed immediately. He seemed aware of it; she saw his faint smile in the moonlight as he played with her breasts and began moving in slow, pulsing thrusts. Unbelievably, the heat built again and she shattered a second time, just seconds before his own release.

  Josh collapsed over her, chest heaving, and she wished they were in a bed, warm and secluded, where she could spend the night in his arms.

  Stupid.

  Those kinds of fantasies belonged to women who were comfortable with their partner and their own sexuality.

  When Josh’s chest had stopped heaving, she wiggled free, briskly toweled the remaining dampness off her skin, dressed and walked back to camp. After all, she was a master at taking what came along and dealing with it.

  Even Josh had said so.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JOSH TRIED NOT to look at Tara too much as they worked alone the next afternoon.

  A deep frustration had taken hold of him when, for the second time, she’d rushed away from their lovemaking as if nothing had happened. He finally understood why women resented it so much when their partner fell asleep quickly or hurried to get dressed and leave. He’d done it himself, hoping to avoid conversation. Yet he would have enjoyed a little afterglow with Tara.

  Still, his frustration didn’t make sense. What else had he expected? He ought to be glad she wasn’t gushing or mak
ing assumptions. To his old way of thinking, Tara was actually the perfect lover, never seeming to expect a commitment. But he’d been wrong to think that she was cool and emotionless. As Grandpa had said, her eyes told the whole story, provided someone was willing to look hard enough.

  “There’s nothing here,” he said unnecessarily as he dumped the debris into a bucket.

  His grandfather had decided they should pile their discards near the alluvial deposit where they’d been working, so they could smooth it over again later. He’d said it was to keep casual visitors from speculating about why someone had dug there. Despite their lack of success, Walt remained optimistic that sapphires were a possibility and was determined to keep “sapphire rustlers” in the dark.

  Josh appreciated his grandfather’s unshakable belief that they’d find gems. Yet it also reminded him of something Tara had said...something that had bothered him ever since.

  “Tara, a while back you told me I concentrated on rocks instead of gems. What did you mean by that?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Nothing bad, and as soon as I said it, I reminded myself that value is in the eyes of the beholder. An agate is as beautiful as a sapphire, just in a different way.”

  Josh nodded. One of his favorite stones was polished aventurine, yet aventurine was inexpensive and easily obtained. But he was also aware that he’d barely looked at his collection in years. He’d concentrated on ranching, ignoring almost everything else.

  It was hard not to make comparisons between that and what his grandfather had been telling him.

  Josh had always thought that putting the Boxing N first meant that Grandpa hadn’t valued his wife. It wasn’t true. Walt and Evelyn had shared a good life together, but in their minds, they’d been saving their best times for retirement. Then all their plans had been taken from them.

  It was entirely possible that Grandpa both loved and hated the Boxing N the way Tara seemed to think. The ranch was part of Walt’s heritage, passed to him by his forebears. Yet it had also gotten more of his attention than the love of his life. Would he ever be able to make peace with it?

  Josh piled more rocks into his sieve and began washing them. He’d read that the questions were more important than the answers. He hoped that was true, because he had a whole bunch of questions that might never get answered. And some of the biggest ones had Tara’s name on them.