Best of Cowboys Bundle
Page 49
He removed the tray and sat beside her. “You didn’t pull away when I kissed you.”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
He lifted her chin. “I hated the thought of marrying you because I thought you’d be like my first wife, even though Bill told me you’d be different. But it didn’t take long to know that you weren’t like Elizabeth. That first night at dinner, I couldn’t believe all you’d managed to accomplish. But I didn’t want to admit I was wrong. I apologize for that.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s in the past. I can’t change my behavior then. But I want our marriage to work. I want it to be real. I want…I want you to love me like I love you. But I’m willing to give you time. And I was planning on hiring a housekeeper to make your life easier. Not to get rid of you.”
“Oh,” was Debra’s only remark.
“So, will you stay?”
“I want to stay,” she whispered, “but I don’t know if—We’re a package deal, me and Andy.”
“Honey, Andy’s not a problem. He’s a great boy. He was the only positive thing I saw in our marriage because I didn’t think I’d ever have a son of my own.”
But she still felt wary. “What happens to Andy if you—we have a son?”
“Andy would have a little brother. If you’re not going anywhere, he’s not, either. He’ll be my son as long as I live. Do you think he would like that?”
“Yes. He’s never had a daddy. His father died before he was born, and my father died early, too.”
“Then if he’ll have me, I’ll be his daddy. And if we have any other boys, they’ll have a big brother to help them.”
She nodded, still a solemn look on her face.
“What else?” he asked.
“You haven’t questioned me about Betsy,” she said.
He bent closer to give her another kiss, this one clinging a little longer. “Honey, I don’t have to ask you about Betsy. You already treat her as if she were your own baby. She calls you Mama. You’re the only mother she’s ever known, except for those first two months of her life and it’s a wonder she even survived. The best thing I ever did for my little girl was marry you.”
“I love her so much. I’m glad you’re not worried.”
“Scoot over,” he ordered. She scooted over as he aligned himself next to her and put his arm around her.
“How many kids do you think we should have?” he asked as he settled her body against his.
“I—I don’t know.”
“I think maybe four more. That would be six. I think we could handle six, don’t you?”
Debra sat up and turned to look at him. “Six? You think that would be easy? We’ll definitely need a housekeeper.”
“That’s my girl!” he said with a laugh. “I knew you had a fighting spirit. Meekness doesn’t suit you!” He kissed her again.
She could get used to his kisses. A deep hunger grew in her and she slid her arms around his neck. As if he’d been waiting for that sign, he deepened the kiss. When they parted a couple of minutes later, they were both breathing heavily.
“Oh, Lordy, Debra Richey. I’m glad you’re already my wife.”
“Me, too,” she said with a shy smile.
“Now we only have one other thing I can think of to discuss,” he said. “What was the fascination with the quilts?”
“Oh.”
“Come on, Deb, come clean.”
“You said you were hiring a housekeeper in the fall. I figured I needed to find a way to make money for me and Andy when we left. I was hoping to make four quilts before the fair.”
“Lord have mercy, all the time you were killing yourself doing all the work I’d put on you and you still thought I’d turn you out without a penny? You must’ve thought me a monster!”
“No, John, I didn’t, but I knew you were an angry man. And I understood why.”
“I was. I won’t deny that. But I’m not scum, honey. I owed you big-time. If things hadn’t worked out, I’d have given you money, if nothing else.”
“I didn’t want your money,” she whispered.
“Tell me what you wanted.”
“You. That’s all. You and Betsy.”
“I already know Betsy’s answer, and you have me, completely. Not only do I appreciate you, but I also love you. I love your unselfish spirit, your work ethic, your skills in the kitchen, your beautiful smile and, most of all, your warm heart. You took Betsy in right away. I’m glad I get to join her.”
“Oh, you do. I want to make up to you for your past and build a future together.”
He kissed her again, his hands wandering her body. When he finally pulled back, he rolled off the bed and stood.
“What are you doing?” she asked, startled.
“I’m heading out to one of the sofas in the living room.”
“But this is your bed. I can go upstairs and—”
“No! I don’t want you that far away. I’ll stay out on the sofa as long as you want me to, but this is where I want you from now on.”
“But, I—”
“Debra, I love you. But until you’re ready, I’m going to wait. I owe you more than that. But I want you to be sure of what you want. So take some time. And let me know when you want me back in here.” He turned to leave.
She only said one word, but it stopped him in his tracks.
“Now.”
He spun around, almost losing his balance. “What did you say?”
“I want you now, John. I don’t want to be without you.”
He stared at her. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, yes. You won my heart when I realized how much you loved Betsy.”
“I never knew fatherhood could lead to such happiness,” he said with a grin as he returned to the bed.
EPILOGUE
THE church music swelled and the wedding march began. Debra, dressed in a beautiful white suit, walked slowly down the aisle with a big bouquet of flowers. She couldn’t believe John had talked her into this display for their neighbors.
When she joined her husband at the altar, she expected Reverend Jackson to lead them through the wedding vows. Instead, John first kissed her. Then he turned to their audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we asked you here today to celebrate our nuptials. We were married last March, but it was at best a bare-bones ceremony. In truth, I married this woman in anger. I wasn’t very nice to her. I had already been in one marriage that had been a colossal failure, partly due to me, though I was too angry to realize it at the time.”
He squeezed Debra’s hand. “God gave me an angel, and I scorned her. Today, I want you to know I’m remarrying this woman in love, not anger. I didn’t want our children to remember that other wedding.”
Then he turned to look at Andy and Betsy. “We’ve been blessed by two wonderful children who are a part of our union. Andy, can you and Betsy come up here, too?”
Having been coached by his new daddy, keeping a secret from his mom, Andy slipped off the church pew and took Betsy’s hand. He and the toddler walked to his mom and dad. John handed Betsy to Debra and lifted Andy in his own strong arms. “We want you to join us in our happy union, and to announce the future arrival of a brother for Andy and Betsy.”
Debra blushed. She’d told him that to marry again when she was obviously pregnant with their first child wasn’t proper. He’d assured her it was the perfect thing to do.
Everyone clapped, showing they agreed with John.
Then he and Debra turned around and went through their vows again. And this time, John kissed his bride.
Afterward, they all adjourned to the café where a wedding cake and a lot of other food awaited their friends and neighbors.
Lucy put her arm around Debra. “I’m so happy for you two.”
“Thank you, Lucy. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re our housekeeper now. I was afraid John would find some stranger.”
“Honeychild, all you had t
o do was ask. Baldy and Aggie kept me on because they were worried about me, but I landed in a bed of roses working for you and John.”
Debra laughed. “Some bed of roses, with all the work you do! But we’ll try not to let you get beaten down.”
They were joined by John. “Hey, are you two plotting against me?”
“Never,” Debra said with a smile that John felt all the way to his toes.
“How are you feeling, honey? Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m fine. Lucy and I were just talking about how happy we are.”
“Did that have anything to do with your uncle Bill?” John asked, an innocent expression on his face that didn’t fool either lady.
Lucy turned a bright red.
Debra chided her husband. “Behave, John. You shouldn’t tease Lucy.”
“No, of course not,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’ll admit I’m enjoying watching Bill go through the throes of love.”
“You’re not helping the situation,” Debra protested.
“Okay, I’ll change the subject.” He raised his champagne glass and tapped it against her juice cup. “Let’s talk about how much I love you.” Then he showed her how much with a kiss.
Not Your Average Cowboy
Christine Wenger
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
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
W here on earth am I?
Meredith Bingham Turner pulled her generic gray rental car over to the side of the road—what little side there was. Rolling down the window, she peered down the drop-off to her right and frowned at the scruffy vegetation and huge prickly cacti that stood with their arms raised toward the blazing Arizona sun.
It was hot. Very hot. And she was very, very lost.
Once again, she read the directions to the Rattlesnake Ranch that her friend Karen had e-mailed her, but something was still wrong, and there was no one around to ask for assistance. No cops. No pedestrians or joggers. No shoppers. No tourists.
Just lizards, scorpions and tarantulas.
She shuddered and quickly rolled up the window. She hadn’t seen any of those creatures yet, but why tempt fate?
Two weeks ago, Karen had called Merry and asked for a favor. “I know you’re busy, but it’s important. My brother is at his wit’s end. With Caitlin’s psychiatrist bills, Louise’s and Ty’s tuition and all…Well, we might just lose the ranch if we don’t do something drastic. Besides, I read about you and that George fellow in Celebrity Gossiper, and it sounds like you need a break, too.”
Karen was right. She needed to get away from Boston and her corporation. She needed to get away from George Lynch, her latest “kiss and tell” ex-boyfriend. Whenever she thought of the headline in the Celebrity Gossiper: “Sensational Cook Not So Sensational in Bed,” she wanted to scream.
Merry did the only thing that she could do. She turned it over to her lawyers.
“Of course I’ll help,” Merry had replied to Karen’s request. “What do you need me to do?”
“Help us turn the Rattlesnake Ranch into a dude ranch. I can take care of the business end, but I’ll need decorating help, menu-planning, maybe you could help with publicity. An endorsement by you would guarantee a full house.”
“I’m coming up with ideas already,” Merry replied.
She was more than happy to help Karen. Karen had gone out of her way to help Meredith, a lonely introvert from Beacon Hill in Boston, loosen up at Johnson and Wales University. Those four years at J&W with Karen as her roommate had been the best time of her life.
Karen was her only friend in the world. She could trust Karen with her innermost thoughts, feelings and problems and know they wouldn’t end up in the Gossiper.
Maybe it wouldn’t be too awful here in the desert. All she had to do was to come up with some decorating ideas, lend her name to garner some publicity for the launch of the dude ranch, and then she’d fly back home to Boston and her beautiful condo overlooking Boston Harbor.
Karen believed there was a market for “wannabe cowboys,” especially from the Northeast. Merry supposed that there were some city slickers who wanted to play cowboy for a week and go on trail rides and chuck wagon cookouts, even though it didn’t sound like fun to her. Why would they travel all the way to Arizona? Then again, corporations liked that kind of thing for team building. Maybe that was the answer—attract the corporate crowd.
Whatever Karen wanted, Merry would roll up her sleeves and do anything she could to help.
Merry studied the map that the auto club had marked out for her and thought that she had to be somewhere on the little gray line between Dead Man Mountain and Galloping Horse Mountain.
Wild West names were just so colorful, but she wasn’t in the mood for colorful names. She needed better directions.
She looked out of her rearview mirror. Not a car or a person in sight. Not a soul to ask how to get to Hanging Tree Junction—another colorful name. It would have been nice if someone had thrown up a sign at frequent intervals, so she would at least know if she was still in the United States and not in Mexico.
Maybe she should just keep going forward. The sun would be setting soon, and she didn’t relish driving on twisting and turning mountain roads in the dark.
And then she saw him.
Her first real-life cowboy.
He was moseying, as they say, toward her, riding a big black horse. The cowboy wore a long white duster. Only a bit of faded denim was visible under his brown leather chaps with black fringe. As he rode closer, she saw that he had silver spurs on his boots.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He looked so rugged, at one with the landscape. So did the rifle butt sticking out of a long leather rectangle hanging from his saddle.
Rifle?
Her mouth went dry and she braced herself, ready to floor the gas pedal.
The cowboy squinted into the sun. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but she’d bet the next royalty check from her latest cookbook that they were as blue as the sky above.
If she lived to talk about it, she’d have Joanne, her new publicist and assistant, hire him for the video shoot advertising Karen’s dude ranch. He’d be perfect.
He tweaked the front brim of his white cowboy hat in casual cowboy fashion as he approached, and she melted—even though the air conditioner was on full blast.
His horse stopped at the side of her car and proceeded to wipe its nose on her window.
Thank goodness it was a rental car and not her Jag.
He motioned for her to roll down the gooey window. With her foot poised over the gas pedal, she hit the button with her left hand and opened the window a few inches. She stared up at the cowboy, and wished she could see more of his face. The horse was tall and, so it seemed, was he. She craned her neck, keeping a wary eye on horse and rider.
“Howdy, ma’am.” He did the hat-tugging thing again. “You lost?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“I take it that means yes.”
“Yes.”
“Would you be Meredith Something Turner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m Meredith Bingham Turner.”
“Close enough.”
“And you are?”
He pushed his hat back. “Bucklin Floyd Porter. But people call me Buck.”
“You’re Karen’s brother!” Thank goodness. She recognized him now. She remembered seeing pictures of Buck and Karen’s other siblings whenever Karen returned to college from visits home. She’d always thought he was handsome, but the pictures didn’t do him justice—especially when he was
in full cowboy regalia.
He nodded. “And you’re the lady who’s going to help turn my home into a dude ranch?”
She put the window down completely and leaned farther out. “That’s me.”
He shook his head, not seeming happy at all. “If you don’t mind, I don’t want to stand around talking in this heat. Karen sent me to fetch you.”
“Fetch? As in dog?”
“Fetch as in she knew you’d get lost. She said you’d need road signs every couple of feet.”
So much for the strong, silent cowboy. “Glad you’re here. Lead the way.”
She could see his eyes twinkling in amusement. They were blue. Sky-blue, just like she knew they’d be.
“You can’t follow me, ma’am. I’m headed down there.” He pointed at a path through the cacti. “I’d strongly suggest that you stick to the road.”
He turned the big black horse and began to give her directions, pointing and waving his hand down the road. She stuck her head farther out the window to hear what he was saying over the blasting air-conditioning. As she did, his horse swung its tail, stinging her in the face.
“Yeow,” she yelled, pressing her hand against her burning cheek. She leaned back into the car as the horse pranced beside her.
The beast swung its tail again. This time she was spitting the horse’s tail hair out of her mouth and brushing it away from her eyes. Her elbow hit the horn.
The horse whinnied, took off at a gallop, leaped the guardrail and plunged down the cliff with Buck Porter hanging on for dear life.
“Whoa, Bandit. Easy boy.”
Buck pulled on the reins, but not too much. He might as well give Bandit his head and just go with it. The Bandit could handle anything.
Why the hell had the fool woman laid on her horn? Didn’t she know that it would spook his horse?
Buck leaned as far back in the saddle as he could. Cactus needles stabbed into his duster and scraped his chaps. During the plunge down the mountain, it didn’t take long to figure out that Meredith Something Turner was going to be trouble.