Cowboy to the Rescue
Page 1
“So what you’re trying to tell me is that you’re not looking for a husband?”
Taking hold of her hand, Lex passed his thumb softly, sensuously, over the back of it.
A nervous lump thickened Christina’s throat. They were walking on treacherous ground. “That’s right. Setting out to deliberately find a spouse is—well—”
“Unromantic?”
“Yes. Love doesn’t happen by design.”
“And you think love is an important ingredient for marriage?”
“It’s the essential ingredient.”
She watched his lips spread into a wide, seductive smile as she suddenly found his hands on her shoulders and his head lowering to hers. She mentally shouted a self-warning to turn her head, to step back and away from him. Yet her body refused to obey. Instead, she felt her chin lift, her lips part, and then the totally male taste of him shattered her senses.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for revisiting the Sandbur ranch with me!
Lex Saddler has always wanted to emulate his loyal father. But he can’t make a wife and children happy when he has neither. He can’t even fall in love! Or so he believes.
When Christina Logan, the private investigator hired to investigate Paul Saddler’s mysterious death, arrives at the Sandbur, she is immediately struck with a sense of family—something she’s never had. Her parents’ tumultuous divorce and her mother’s subsequent multiple marriages have made Christina long for a real home where love and responsibility go hand in hand. She’s determined to have the real thing or nothing at all.
Even after our parents have long left us, they continue to touch our lives in the choices we make and the emotions we feel. Thankfully, Lex and Christina eventually realize the lessons they’ve learned from their parents are enough to bond their love for a lifetime.
I hope you enjoy Lex’s tale. Please drop by again soon to find out what happens when Mac and Ripp go in search of their missing mother!
God Bless each trail you ride!
Stella Bagwell
STELLA BAGWELL
COWBOY TO THE RESCUE
Books by Stella Bagwell
Silhouette Special Edition
Found: One Runaway Bride #1049
*Penny Parker’s Pregnant! #1258
White Dove’s Promise #1478
†Should Have Been Her Child #1570
†His Defender #1582
†Her Texas Ranger #1622
†A Baby on the Ranch #1648
In a Texas Minute #1677
†Redwing’s Lady #1695
†From Here to Texas #1700
†Taming a Dark Horse #1709
†A South Texas Christmas #1789
†The Rancher’s Request #1802
†The Best Catch in Texas #1814
†Having the Cowboy’s Baby #1828
Paging Dr. Right #1843
†Her Texas Lawman #1911
†Hitched to the Horseman #1923
†The Christmas She Always Wanted #1935
†Cowboy to the Rescue #1947
Silhouette Books
The Fortunes of Texas
The Heiress and the Sheriff
Maitland Maternity
Just for Christmas
A Bouquet of Babies
*“Baby on Her Doorstep”
Midnight Clear
*“Twins under the Tree”
Going to the Chapel
“The Bride’s Big Adventure”
STELLA BAGWELL
began writing romance novels more than twenty years ago. Now, more than sixty books later, she likens her job to childbirth. The pain is great, but the rewards are too sweet to measure.
Stella married her high school sweetheart thirty-seven years ago and now the two live on the Texas coast, where the climate is tropical and the lifestyle blessedly slow. When Stella isn’t spinning out tales of love, she’s usually working outdoors on their little ranch, 6 Pines, helping her husband care for a herd of very spoiled horses. They have a son, Jason, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach.
To my late parents, who are still guiding my footsteps.
I miss you both.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Chapter One
“Who the hell is that?”
Lex Saddler’s drawled question was directed to no one in particular in the dusty cattle pen, but it was spoken loud enough for his cousin Matt to hear.
The other man followed Lex’s gaze across the ranch yard to see Geraldine Saddler, the matriarch of the Sandbur ranch, approaching the corral fence. The surprise wasn’t Lex’s mother, an attractive woman in her mid-sixties with silver, bobbed hair, but the person by her side. The tall, young woman with long red hair, dressed in a short black skirt and delicate high heels, was definitely a stranger.
“I don’t know,” Matt murmured, “but if she gets any closer, she’s going to get coated with dust.”
Behind the two men, several cowboys were roping calves and stretching them out for the branding iron. The indignant little bulls and heifers were bawling in loud protest as the stench of burning hair and black dust filled the hot, muggy air.
Squatting near one of the downed calves, a cowboy called out, “Hey, Matt, better come look at this one. Looks like he has a loose horn.”
Grinning at Lex, Matt inclined his head toward the rapidly approaching women. “You go meet the company. I’ve got more important things to do.”
“Yeah, right,” Lex muttered dryly, not bothering to slap at the dust on his denim shirt or brown leather chaps as he walked over to the fence.
“Lex, climb out of there, please,” Geraldine called to him. “I want you to meet someone.”
As he mounted the fence, then dropped to the other side, he could feel the redhead eyeing him closely. Normally, the idea that a woman was giving him a second glance would have pleased him. He made no pretensions about his love for the opposite sex. Women made his world go around, and he soaked up any attention they wanted to throw his way. But something about this particular female was making him feel just a tad self-conscious. Instead of batting her eyes with appreciation, she was giving him a cool stare. Wouldn’t his tough cousin have a laugh about that? he thought wryly.
Shoving a black cowboy hat to the back of his head, he sauntered over to the two women. His mother began to make introductions, but Lex was too interested in their guest to pick up more than a word here and there.
Thick auburn hair clouded around her shoulders in glistening waves. Her pale skin, with its faint dotting of freckles, reminded him of cream sprinkled with nutmeg, and her blue eyes, of a late-summer storm cloud. Beneath a faintly tip-tilted nose, her lips were plush and pink, the moist sheen on them implying she’d just touched them with the tip of her tongue.
“Lex? Did you hear me? This is Ms. Logan. Christina Logan. The private investigator that has agreed to take our case.”
His mother’s words cut into his meandering thoughts, adding even more shock to his addled senses. This was the P.I.? And his mother might call it our case, but he viewed it as hers. Even though he’d agreed to help, this was totally his mother’s doing.
“Uh—yes.” He jerked off his leather glove and quickly offered his hand to the beauty standing in front of him. “My pleasure, Ms. Logan.”
Instead of touching her palm weakly against his, the woman totally surpris
ed him by curling her fingers firmly around his and giving his whole hand a strong shake.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Saddler.”
“Oh, don’t call him ‘Mr.,’” Geraldine quickly interjected. “You’ll make his head even bigger than it already is. He’s Lex to everyone. Even you. Isn’t that right, son?”
Lex glanced at his mother, then smiled at Christina Logan. “I’d be pleased if you’d call me Lex. After all, I’m sure we’ll be getting to know each other very well in the coming days.”
Not if she could help it, Christina thought as she eyed the tough cowboy standing in front of her.
When Geraldine Saddler had approached her about taking on this case of her husband’s death, she’d been very excited. The Sandbur reputation was known all over the state of Texas and beyond. Besides being rich and prominent, the families had the reputation of being fair dealers. Solving this case for the Saddlers was definitely going to put a feather in her cap. However, when Geraldine had spoken of her son and the role he would be playing to help Christina with information, she’d expected Lex to be a businessman. The kind that sat behind a desk all day, giving orders over the phone. The kind that had soft hands and plenty of employees to make sure they stayed that way.
She’d never expected the rough, tough specimen of masculinity standing before her. He was tall. At least six foot three. And his body was the lean, wiry kind full of strength and stamina. Straight hair in myriad shades of blond covered his forehead and lent a boyish look to his rugged, thirty-something features. White teeth gleamed against his tanned face as his smile zeroed in directly on her.
Christina wanted to turn and run. Instead, she dropped his hand and drew in a long, much-needed breath.
“Then Lex it will be,” she said as casually as she could. “And you must call me Christina.”
“Will you be working here much longer?” Geraldine asked her son.
The man’s dark green eyes swung away from Christina’s face and over to his mother’s.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Probably till dark. Why?”
Geraldine rolled her eyes as though her son was growing slow-witted. “Cook is preparing a special supper in honor of Christina’s arrival. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t late.”
“I’ll try not to be,” he assured her. “But I’m not going to leave everything with Matt.” He smiled at Christina. “You understand, don’t you?”
Christina understood that this man had probably been charming females with that smile from the moment he’d been born.
“Perfectly,” she told him, then quickly softened the word with a faint smile. After all, the man was to be admired for working at all when he clearly didn’t have to. Add to that, it was obviously important to him to carry out his part of the work, instead of leaving it all to the other men. “And don’t feel you have to make a special effort to hurry on my account. Your mother and I have plenty to talk over.”
“Seven thirty, Lex,” Geraldine warned. “After that, I’m telling Cook to throw yours out.”
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, with a grimace. “All right. I’d like to eat tonight, so I’d better get back to work. See you later, Christina.”
He pulled the brim of his hat down low on his forehead, then tipped it toward Christina in an outrageously gallant way before he climbed over the fence and jumped back into the dusty corral.
Sighing, Geraldine turned toward her. “I’m sorry if my son seems indifferent, Christina. But don’t worry. He’ll come around. I’ll see to that.” She closed a hand around Christina’s elbow and urged her toward the big hacienda-style ranch house in the distance. “Let’s get out of this dust and get you settled.”
Two hours later, Christina stood in the upstairs bedroom she’d be occupying while on the ranch, peering out the window at the shadows rapidly spreading across the lawn below. From this view, she could see only portions of the massive ranch yard, with its numerous barns, sheds and corrals. The area where Lex Saddler had been working earlier was blocked from her view by the branches of a massive live oak tree.
And that was okay with her. She didn’t need to be sneaking extra peeks at the man. Not when his image was still crowding her mind, refusing to leave her alone.
He had trouble written all over that sexy face, and she’d not traveled all the way from San Antonio to this South Texas ranch to let a rakish cowboy—or any man, for that matter—distract her from her job. She’d learned the hard way that men like Lex had a habit of turning a woman’s life upside down, then leaving her alone to pick up the pieces. Now that she’d gotten herself glued back together after Mike’s betrayal, she had no intention of letting another man turn her head.
Her lips pursed with grim determination, she walked over to a long pine dresser and gazed at her image in the mirror. Geraldine had insisted that the family didn’t “dress up” for evening meals, so Christina had chosen to wear a casual skirt with a ruffled hem, topped with a sleeveless cotton sweater in the same coral color as the skirt. Her aim was not to be overly dressed up, but to still look nice enough to show respect to her hosts.
She was brushing the loose ends of her hair when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Laying the brush back on the dresser top, she went to answer it and was faintly surprised to see Lex Saddler standing on the other side of the threshold. Obviously, he and his men had gotten all the little dogies marked with the Sandbur brand.
“Good evening, Christina.”
Christina couldn’t help herself. Before she could stop it, her gaze was sliding over him, noting the clean jeans and brown ostrich boots, the blue-and-white pin-striped shirt tucked inside a lean waistband, the long sleeves rolled back against corded brown forearms. At the moment his hat was absent. It appeared he’d made an effort to slick the thick blond hair back from his forehead, but a couple of strands had slipped from the restriction and were now teasing a toffee brown eyebrow. A faint stubble of whiskers said he either didn’t like shaving or had lacked the time to pick up a razor.
But the faint brown shadow did nothing to detract from the man’s appearance. In fact, he was even more sensual and sexual than she’d first thought, and it irked her that the mere sight of him elevated the beat of her heart.
“Good evening,” she said, returned his greeting, then, with a quick glance at her watch, asked, “Am I late?”
He smiled. “Not at all. Mother’s on the front porch. We thought you might like to come down and have a drink before supper.”
“Sounds nice,” she agreed.
She shut the bedroom door behind her, and as they started down a wide hallway leading to the staircase landing, he linked his arm though hers, smooth and easy. Christina realized he was an old hand at escorting women.
“So, do you like your room?” he asked. “If you don’t, there are several more you could try.”
“The room is lovely,” she told him, then tossed him a glance. “And so is your ranch.”
His brows arched upward, and then he chuckled. “My kind of woman,” he drawled. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
Christina wasn’t ready to make such a prediction. Especially when he was giving off such flirtatious vibes. She was here for work and work only. She wanted to get along with this man, which would allow her to resolve the case quickly. If she had to keep fending him off at every turn, she was in for a long row to hoe.
At the bottom of the long staircase, they crossed a wide living room with Spanish-tile floors, brown leather furniture and several sculptures and paintings depicting the history of the century-plus-old ranch. It was not the formal type of sitting room she would have expected in the home of such a wealthy family. Instead of being a showcase, it had a lived-in look, which had instantly put her at ease.
After passing through a short foyer, Lex guided her onto a long concrete porch with huge potted succulents and wicker furniture grouped at intervals along the covered portico. Somewhere in the middle, Geraldine Saddler sat in a fan-backed chair, sipping from a frost
y glass.
When she spotted Christina and her son, she smiled brightly.
“I see Lex found you ready to come down,” she said to Christina. “Would you like a margarita or a glass of wine?”
“A margarita would be fine,” Christina replied.
“I’ll get it,” Lex told her. “Just sit wherever you’d like.” He released his hold on her arm and headed to a small table where Cook had organized glasses, a bucket of ice and several choices of drinks.
The moment Lex left her side, it felt as though the tornado that had been traveling beside her had now moved safely away. At least for the time being.
Drawing in a slow breath, she took a seat directly across from Geraldine and smoothed the hem of her skirt across her thigh. She’d hardly gotten herself settled when Lex returned with her drink.
“Thank you,” she murmured quietly.
“My pleasure,” he said as he took the seat next to her. “And be careful with that thing. Cook pours in a lethal amount of tequila. You might want to drink it slowly. Not everyone can handle liquor like my mother,” he added teasingly.
Geraldine scowled at her son. “Lex! You’ll have Christina thinking I’m a sot! I only have one or two of these in the evenings and sometimes none at all!”
“Yeah, but one or two of those things would kick my head right off my shoulders,” replied Lex.
Although he spoke in a joking tone, Christina was inclined to believe he was being more or less truthful. The sip she’d taken from her own glass was like a cold jolt of lightning. Her father would love this, she thought wryly. But then, she had to give the man credit. He’d not touched alcohol in five years and was getting his life in order again.
Christina smiled at her hostess. “It’s delicious.”
She could feel more than see Lex watching her.
“So tell me about being a private investigator,” he prompted. “Have you always done this sort of job?”
She turned her gaze on him, then wished she hadn’t. He had such a raw sex appeal that each time she gazed squarely at his tanned face and beach-blond hair, she felt her stomach clench, her breath catch.