Best of Cowboys Bundle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Barbara White Daille, Judy Christenberry, Christine Wenger, Shirley Rogers, Crystal Green, Nina Bruhns, Candance Schuler, Carole Mortimer

  Some of the cowhands were clustered around the scarred wooden table in the center of the room, playing poker. Chay tossed his hat on one of the hooks beside the door, then nodded to the card players, noting that Vern Kingston was winning, as always.

  “You know you’re wasting your time working here,” Chay told him. “You ought to be in Vegas or Reno raking in the dough.”

  Kingston laughed. “Yeah, and I’d go in a heartbeat if cowboying wasn’t in my blood.”

  The men at the table laughed at that. Kingston was the laziest cowboy on the place. The only reason he still had a job was because he was a top hand with the wild string.

  Miller gestured at the bandage on Chay’s head. “What happened to you?”

  “I ran into a tree,” Chay replied. “Or, more to the point, a tree ran into me during that storm last night. Speaking of which, I found three of those missing broomtails over near Oak Creek.” Chay glanced at a lanky cowboy standing on the other side of the table. “Randall, I want you to ride out and see if you can find the other one.”

  “Sure thing,” Randall replied, and headed for the door.

  “So,” Kingston said, “who bandaged you up?”

  “No one you know.”

  The men at the table exchanged knowing looks.

  “You could introduce me,” Joe Coffey said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “Not a chance, Coffey Man. She’s too good for a brush popper like you.”

  The men laughed, then turned back to their game.

  Chay bummed a cigarette from Kingston, lit up and took a deep drag. He watched the game while he smoked, then tossed the butt in a trash can and headed for his bunk.

  Stretching out, he closed his eyes. Dana Westlake was too good for the likes of him, too, he admitted ruefully. She was a classy lady who deserved all the good things in life; he was just a cowhand with little or nothing to offer her. But that didn’t stop him from thinking about her.

  It didn’t take Dana long to realize that once her things were put away, the house aired out, the floors scrubbed, the windows washed, the groceries put away and clean sheets on the bed, there wasn’t a lot left to do except take long walks in the woods or sit on the front porch and listen to the radio. She had brought a couple of new paperback books with her, but for the first time in her life, reading held little appeal. Television was out of the question, since no one had ever replaced the one that broke.

  She spent Wednesday morning baking chocolate-chip cookies. Later that afternoon she sorted through the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen; Thursday, she rearranged the furniture in the living room.

  By Friday she was weary of her own company. Grabbing her purse and keys, she drove into town to buy a small television with a built-in DVD player.

  She was standing beside her car while her new television was being loaded into the trunk when she saw Chayton Lone Elk walking down the street in her direction. Her heart did a funny little leap when she saw him and then she noticed the woman walking beside Chay, a pretty, young woman with a little boy in her arms. A little boy with straight black hair and dusky skin.

  Chay slowed almost imperceptibly as he approached her. His gaze met hers. He nodded and then he passed by, his attention again focused on the woman at his side.

  Dana stared after him for several moments and then, realizing what she was doing, she jerked her gaze away. She thanked the young man who had put the television in her car, closed the trunk and slid behind the wheel.

  So, he had a wife and a child. Why was that so surprising? He was as handsome as the devil, with his coppery skin, long black hair and those sexy eyes that were so dark a brown they were almost black. And it didn’t matter one bit. She didn’t want a man, any man.

  She told herself that all the way home.

  She was sitting out on the front porch later that night, sipping from a glass of iced tea while she enjoyed the quiet of the night, when she heard hoofbeats approaching. She knew somehow that it was Chay, though she couldn’t imagine what he was doing there.

  Her first instinct was to run into the house, turn off all the lights and pretend she wasn’t home. But that seemed cowardly and besides, her car was parked beside the house, and her living-room lights could probably be seen for a good distance.

  Gathering her courage around her, she continued rocking.

  He rode up a short time later, giving her a chance to notice how well he sat his horse, the spread of his shoulders, his clean profile beneath the brim of his hat. “Mind if I light a spell?”

  She made a vague gesture. “Suit yourself.”

  He swung out of the saddle. Tossing the reins over the hitch rack, he climbed the stairs. Standing, he towered over her.

  “Sit down,” she invited, gesturing at the chair beside the rocker.

  Chay folded his length into the ladder-back chair, his long legs stretched out before him. “Nice night,” he remarked. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  “I’d rather you didn’t smoke,” she said.

  With a grunt, Chay tucked the pack back into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d just given up smoking for good.

  “How’s your head?”

  “Healing pretty well, thanks to you.”

  “Would you care for a glass of iced tea?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Rising, she went into the kitchen and poured him a glass, dismayed to see that her hand was shaking. What was he doing here, anyway? Why wasn’t he home with his wife? She added a few ice cubes, then returned to the porch.

  She handed him the glass, shivered when his fingers brushed against hers. “So,” she said, resuming her seat, “what brings you out here?”

  “I just wanted to thank you again for looking after me.”

  “That really wasn’t necessary. I would have done the same for anyone.”

  He grunted softly. She was as prickly as a cactus. “Well, you didn’t do it for anyone, you did it for me and I’m obliged.”

  She shrugged, as if it was of no consequence.

  “Tomorrow’s my day off,” he said, wondering why he was pursuing her so hard when she was only going to be here for a few weeks. “How’d you like to go riding with me in the morning? Maybe have a picnic in the afternoon, do a little swimming at the old water hole?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I know you came up here to be alone, but I’d really enjoy the company.”

  “I’m sure your wife would love to ride with you, Mr. Elk.”

  He stared at her blankly for a moment, and then he grinned. “You mean Kimi? She’s not my wife. Just an old friend.”

  He had known Kimimela since middle school. They had dated some in high school and a few times after that and then she had left town. When she came home a year later, she had a three-month-old baby. Kimi had tried to pass the boy off as Chay’s and when that failed, she broke down and cried. She didn’t know who the father was, she was all alone and afraid. He had tried to comfort her and one thing had led to another. In the end, Chay had agreed to help support her and her son in exchange for a home-cooked meal and a few hours of companionship on Sunday nights.

  It galled Dana that she felt such an overwhelming wave of relief. Married or single, it made no difference. She wasn’t looking for any entanglements.

  Chay took a long drink and let out an appreciative sigh. “You know, I’ve been spending a lot of time with a bunch of teenage girls the last few weeks. I sure could use some grown-up company.” Seeing the question in Dana’s eyes, he added, “The boss has me playing chaperon for his daughter and her friends. He’s taking them into the city tomorrow, so I’ve got the day off.”

  Dana smiled in spite of herself as she imagined the big cowboy herding a group of giggling teenagers.

  “Come on,” he said, “have pity on me.”

  It was tempting. He was tempting. But, remembering Rick, she was about to say no. And then Chay smiled at her and all thought of refusing went right out of her
head.

  “Pick you up around ten?”

  “All right.”

  “Bring your bathing suit.” Rising, he drained the glass. “Unless you want to go skinny-dipping.”

  He was riding away before she could come up with a suitable reply. Once he was gone, a dozen reasons why she should have refused to go with him popped into her head, but by then it was too late.

  She woke early on Saturday morning, filled with a sense of nervous anticipation. She had vowed never to get involved with a man again and now, barely a week later, she had accepted a date with someone she scarcely knew. If she was smart, she would pack up her things and go spend the rest of her vacation with her mom and dad.

  But, as she had proved in the recent past, sometimes she wasn’t very smart.

  She heard hoofbeats outside the door on the stroke of ten. Grabbing the bag that held her swimsuit, towel and a few other necessities, she went out to meet him. Clad in a pair of faded jeans, a dark red shirt, scuffed boots and a black hat, Chayton Lone Elk was a feast for feminine eyes.

  Chay smiled as she stepped out onto the porch. “I didn’t think to ask yesterday,” he said, dismounting. “Do you know how to ride?”

  “Yes, though it’s been a few years.” Shutting the door behind her, she descended the steps.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about horses?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t, really.”

  “Well, once you know how to ride, you never forget. It’ll come back to you in no time,” he promised. “Just like riding a bike.” Taking her bag, he tied it onto the pommel of the second horse, a pretty little chestnut with a white face and one white stocking. “This is Daisy Blue,” he said.

  “I hope she’s gentle.”

  “As a lamb,” Chay assured her. “Come on, I’ll give you a leg up.”

  He adjusted the stirrups, then looked up at her. “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  A little thrill of awareness rippled through her as their gazes met, only to be magnified when his fingers brushed hers as he handed her the reins.

  Chay smiled at her, his expression making it clear that he was aware of what she was feeling.

  Dana watched him swing effortlessly onto the back of his own horse. “How far is the water hole?”

  “Not far. Maybe forty minutes or so. Why? Are you in a hurry?”

  “No, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been riding.”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry, Dana. Is it all right if I call you Dana?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, Dana, we’ll take it slow and easy.”

  She felt an unexpected rush of pleasure at hearing her name on his lips. “Why did you ask me to go with you today?”

  “I thought I made that clear yesterday. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Are you ready?”

  With a nod, she lifted the reins and the chestnut moved out alongside Chay’s horse.

  It was a beautiful day for a ride. The sky was a bright bold blue, a cool breeze moved through the pines, keeping the heat at bay. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their songs a cheerful serenade.

  Chay had been right. In no time at all, she found the rhythm of her mount, and everything she had ever learned about riding came back to her. She had forgotten how relaxing horseback riding could be. The chestnut had a soft mouth and a smooth easy gait. They had been riding about twenty minutes when they came to a long flat stretch of ground. She nodded when Chay asked if she was ready to let the horses run. Chay urged his horse into a lope and the chestnut lined out behind him.

  Dana leaned forward, loving the touch of the wind in her face, the sense of freedom that engulfed her as her horse ran through the tall grass. A deer darted across her path and Dana laughed out loud. Why had she ever given up riding? How could she have forgotten how much fun it was?

  Chay let his horse run until it slowed of its own accord. Pulling up, he waited for Dana to catch up with him. Looking at her, it was hard to believe this was the same pinch-faced woman he had met in Wright’s parking lot. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with pleasure.

  “This was a wonderful idea,” she said as she drew up alongside him. “How much farther to the water hole?”

  “Just around the bend.”

  It wasn’t a water hole at all, but a man-made lake. Set in a verdant meadow, it was surrounded by tall pines and wildflowers. A large wooden raft with an umbrella was anchored in the middle of the water.

  Chay dismounted, then turned to help Dana from the back of her horse. She felt a thrill of pleasure as his hands closed around her waist. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all. She fought back the urge to run her hands over his biceps.

  She looked up at him when he set her on her feet, totally confused by her reaction to him.

  Rick had never set her heart to pounding like this, never made her feel warm all over just by looking at her.

  “Did you bring a suit?” Chay asked.

  She nodded, wishing she dared go skinny-dipping with him.

  “Another hope crushed,” he said.

  “Didn’t you? Bring a pair of trunks, I mean.”

  “Yeah, but I’m willing to swim in the buff if you are.”

  She wanted to, she really did, but she just didn’t have the nerve. In spite of her attraction to Chay, he was a stranger and she was going home in two weeks.

  “Not this time,” she said, and wondered if there would be a next time.

  “Okay. Men to the left, women to the right.”

  “Gotcha.” Untying her bag from the pommel, she ducked behind a tree to change into her suit, a simple black one-piece. Pulling it on, she wished she had lost that ten pounds she had been meaning to lose, then chided herself for worrying about it. She was what she was and if he didn’t like it, what difference did it make? She wasn’t interested in winning either his admiration or his affection.

  Draping her towel over her shoulder, she took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the tree.

  Chay was looking at the water, his back toward her. He wore a pair of navy trunks. Her gaze moved over him in frank feminine appreciation. His skin was a deep copper color all over. His hair fell past his shoulders. He had a tight tush and long, long legs.

  He turned as she took another step forward. She felt her cheeks grow warm as his gaze moved over her.

  “Nice,” he said with a wink.

  Her cheeks grew hotter. “Thank you.”

  He held out his hand. “Ready?”

  “Is it very cold?”

  “No.”

  Dropping her towel on the grass, she put her hand in his, felt a rush of electricity flow from his hand to hers as they ran toward the lake and plunged in.

  In spite of what he had said, she had expected the water to be cold, but it was perfect. He let go of her hand and she struck out for the far bank, her strokes long and strong, thanks to lessons at the Y. He came up behind her, matching her stroke for stroke.

  She was a little breathless when she reached the opposite shore. Climbing out, she sat on the grass while he reversed direction and crossed the lake again.

  He swam with ease, drops of water glistening on his broad shoulders, the sunlight casting gilt highlights in his long black hair. She wondered if he did everything as well.

  He reached the opposite shore, turned, and swam toward her. She looked up at him as he climbed out of the lake shaking water from his hair, then dropped down beside her.

  “It’s lovely here,” she remarked.

  “Yeah. It’s always been one of my favorite places.”

  “Did you grow up around here?”

  “Yes.”

  “On the ranch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh?” There was a wealth of curiosity in that single word.

  “My mother used to work for Big John,” Chay explained. “She kept his books, stuff like that. She got married ten years ago
and moved to Arizona, just outside of Mesa.”

  Dana remembered Big John. She had seen him one year when she came to stay with her grandparents. She recalled a big, stern-faced man. He had looked at her and scared her half to death. “Why didn’t you go with her?”

  “No reason to. She didn’t need me looking after her anymore, plus I’ve got a few acres of my own nearby.” He didn’t mention that his land adjoined Big John’s south pasture.

  “How long have you worked for Big John?”

  “Seems like my whole life.” He smiled at her. “How about you? Do you work?”

  “Yes, I work for a company that appraises antiques back in Ashton Falls.”

  “Antiques, huh? I wouldn’t think there’d be much call for that kind of work in Ashton Falls.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Dana said with a grin.

  “You’re pretty far from home,” Chay remarked. “What brought you way up here?”

  “My grandmother left me her house when she passed away. Talk about antiques! The house, not my grandmother,” she clarified.

  Chay laughed, and she laughed with him.

  “I haven’t been up here for several years,” Dana said. Leaning back, she braced herself on her hands. “I forgot how pretty it is, how much I’ve always loved it. I used to come up for vacations when I was a little girl. My grandfather taught me to ride, and my grandmother taught me how to crochet and bake pies.”

  “What kind of pies?”

  “All kinds. Peach, apple, berry, lemon.”

  “Maybe you could bake me one sometime.”

  “Maybe.”

  Their gazes met and locked. Heat flowed through her, as warm and sweet as sun-kissed honey. She swallowed hard. “So, what’s your favorite kind of pie?”

  His gaze swept over her mouth. “Apple.”

  He leaned toward her. Suddenly breathless, she stared at him, afraid he was going to take her in his arms and kiss her, and more afraid that he wouldn’t.

  “Dana.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, I just wanted to say your name.”