“I thought you said that your boot protected you.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
Seeing Cyndi’s long, smooth legs didn’t help Patrick. Damn, they went on forever. His gaze went to her face, to see her dark eyes large and liquid with desire. His body took notice, and he wanted nothing more than to climb in bed with her and further the examination.
“You feel you’re ready to ride tomorrow?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
He nodded. “Seems you’ve overcome a lot of your fear. Maybe it’s time to see if you can handle being in the saddle.”
She smiled and something tightened in his chest. “You’re serious?”
“I’m serious. And after seeing you today, I realize you’re serious, too.”
She lost the smile. “When it’s my career, I’m always serious.”
Patrick had another sleepless night. He couldn’t get Cyndi’s sweet, citrusy scent or the feel of her smooth leg out of his head. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he’d met the woman.
Showered and dressed, he came downstairs to another shock. He expected to see his sister alone, but Cyndi was with her. She was dressed in jeans and a green blouse, looking too good this early in the morning.
“Good morning, Patrick,” Nora said, smiling.
“Morning, Nora. Cyndi.” They were cooking. “What are you two up to?”
Nora gave him an innocent look. “I promised you breakfast, so I’m showing Cyndi how to make biscuits.”
Patrick forced a smile. “That’s nice.” He went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. Taking a long drink, he leaned against the counter to savor the wonderful flavor.
“Great coffee, sis.”
“Thank Cyndi, she made it.”
“Thank you, Cyndi,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I just added a cinnamon stick.”
Nora picked up two plates filled with scrambled eggs and crisp bacon. “Come on, it’s time to eat.”
She set the plates on the table as Cyndi pulled a sheet of biscuits out of the oven. Placing them in a basket, she brought them to the table and sat down.
“Well, it looks like my work here is finished.” Nora pulled off her apron and laid it on the counter. “I’m headed back to town.”
“Aren’t you going to stay and eat?” Patrick asked.
“I ate while I cooked. Kelly needs me to come in early this morning. She’ll be in court.” She picked up her purse and headed to the door, then turned to Cyndi. “If he causes you any trouble today, just give me a call.”
“Hey, you two, I’m right here,” he announced, then took a bite of egg.
“I think I can handle him,” Cyndi said.
Nora smiled. “I believe you can.” Then she looked at her brother. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon about two.”
She waved and was out the door.
Patrick decided the only way he was going to survive the next week was to keep his hands to himself and his mouth shut. He continued to eat, then picked up a biscuit and buttered it, and took a bite. The flaky roll melted in his mouth.
“You really made these?”
Cyndi nodded. “Yes, I made them. Why are you so surprised?”
So many things about this woman surprised him. So far she hadn’t demanded or complained about anything. And he’d dumped a lot on her trying to make her give up and leave.
He glanced across the table. Cyndi was beautiful, even devoid of makeup, with freckles dusting her nose and her long hair braided down her back. Her hands were nicely shaped, her fingers long, the nails cut short and with clear polish. Her toes were a different story, he thought, recalling the hot red color he’d seen last night.
And this morning, she’d made great-tasting coffee and flaky biscuits. Damn, he was in big trouble. He was doing everything in his power to stay away from her. He’d actually made it through yesterday without kissing her. And now his attention went to her inviting mouth and he started to salivate.
He had to get out of there. His chair scraped the floor as he stood and carried his plate to the sink, eating on the way. He came back to the table and grabbed two more biscuits and some bacon.
“I need to get some chores done before we start. I’ll need about thirty minutes. Just leave the dishes. I’ll get to them later.” He rushed out the door, knowing he was the biggest coward in the world. But running was his only protection.
Later, Cynthia walked toward the barn, wondering if she was ready for this. Playing with the colt yesterday was a lot different than climbing onto a full-size horse. Even as sweet as Daisy was, she was fifteen hands high and outweighed her by nearly a thousand pounds. Then there was the fact that she’d be with Patrick Tanner all day. A man who aroused her whenever he got close.
Cynthia walked into the barn in time to see Patrick lift a large bale of straw off a wagon. He’d removed his shirt, revealing the straining muscles across his broad chest and huge arms. Beads of perspiration dotted his face and neck, causing his bare skin to glisten.
Oh, my! She tried to pull air into her lungs. Her gaze remained glued to his well-toned body, with his low-riding jeans revealing the dark blond swirl of hair that disappeared under his belt buckle. Memories flooded back of their night together. She’d known every glorious inch of this man. She knew from memory that he was total perfection.
Patrick looked up from his job and spotted her. “Hey, you’re early.”
“I finished in the kitchen. I—I can wait if you’re busy.”
He shook his head as he pulled off his gloves and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Why don’t you go and get Daisy’s tack? I’ll show you how to saddle her.”
The cool tack room didn’t do much to help Cynthia’s condition. It had to be hormones, she thought. No man had ever affected her this way. She took down the bridle and tried to concentrate on Patrick’s instructions. She wanted so badly to do well today. She carried the tack back to Daisy’s stall, then returned for the saddle. By then Patrick was finished and buttoning his shirt.
“I could saddle Daisy for you,” he began, “but it’s important that you learn. And if someone else saddles your horse, it’s always best if you double-check the cinches. It’s your butt that lands on the ground if someone doesn’t do his job.”
First Patrick instructed her how to put on the bridle, then had her lead Daisy out of the stall and tie her to the post. Next Cynthia put on the blanket, then she lifted the saddle, and on the second try, she had it on Daisy’s back. After Patrick showed her how to do the cinches and adjust the stirrups, she led Daisy out into the corral.
“Now hold the reins,” he said. “Then grab hold of the horn, put your foot into the stirrup and pull yourself up.”
Cynthia went to Daisy. She blew out a breath to relax. Her heart raced, but that was normal because of her excitement. Excitement, she told herself, not fear. She grabbed hold of the saddle horn and slipped her foot into the stirrup. Daisy shifted a little away from her. That was when she felt Patrick come up behind her to calm the horse.
“Whoa,” he soothed Daisy. Then his large, sure hands went to Cynthia’s waist, and awareness shot through her, making it nearly impossible to think about getting on a horse. It was a good thing he knew what to do and boosted her up.
“Swing your leg over,” he told her and she did.
Cynthia held on to the horn as she shifted in her seat. She looked down at Patrick and smiled. “Hey, I made it.”
“I can see that. How do you feel?”
She sighed. “Okay.” She patted Daisy on the neck. “What about you, girl? Think you can take me for a ride?”
“Now, don’t get too cocky,” Patrick warned. “You have to crawl before you can walk. So you’re going around the corral to start out.” He went over the different commands, then sent her on her way. He watched her as she circled the arena. “Sit upright, but relax your shoulders. That’s it. Relax your wrists. Now let go of the saddle horn.”
“Ther
e is so much to remember.” She felt herself tense.
Just then Patrick came up to the walking horse, grabbed the horn and pulled himself up behind her. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
“Just giving you a little help. If you want to get that part in the movie it would help if you look like you know what you’re doing.” His hands were on her shoulders. “Relax.” He ran his hands down her arms, causing her to shiver. “Just let them hang loose. And hold your head up. Don’t look down at the ground or at the horse’s neck. It’s kind of like dancing. You don’t look at your feet.”
Cynthia tried to listen to what he was saying, but with his body pressed against hers, his warm breath against her ear, all she could do was nod. Riding a horse was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to lean back into Patrick’s body, have his hands journey over her….
His voice broke through her reverie. “You got that?”
Cynthia was jolted back to reality and nodded again.
He slid off the horse’s rump just as smoothly as he got on.
“You ever thought about doing stunt work? You do that so well.”
He smiled. “So do you. You look pretty good up there.”
“I feel good up here. Show me more.” She would like him back behind her, but maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Not if she was to concentrate on her riding.
“Okay, if you’re ready to turn, then gently tug the reins to the right or left.”
Cynthia did as instructed, surprised at how easily Daisy followed her commands. This was good. Deciding to let this man teach her how to ride was the right way to go.
“Daisy is wonderful.”
Patrick stood in the middle of the arena watching her closely. “Yes, Daisy’s a sweet girl.” The horse’s ears pricked up when she heard her name.
“You just have a way with women.”
She got a sexy grin from Patrick. “Tell me more.”
Five
At ten that morning, Carrie Martin took one of the last seats in the back of the Healthy Living Clinic auditorium. The large crowd was buzzing with excitement as it waited for Dr. Richard Strong to start the seminar. Even though she knew that Richie wouldn’t recognize her if she stood in front of him, her heart was pounding with anticipation.
Carrie’s appearance had drastically changed over the years. There was nothing left of that shy, insecure girl he’d once known. She was proud of her new looks, her trim, curvy body. She’d gotten a new hairstyle and added highlights, even changed her eye color to a dazzling blue with contacts. No, she wasn’t the same woman Richie had left in Florida all those years ago. She was educated and had a career she loved—teaching. She’d married again to her sweet late husband Ralph, but best of all, she had a wonderful son, Jason.
Suddenly Dr. Richie walked out onto the stage and the audience erupted in applause. Carrie sat up straighter to get a better look at the latest fitness guru. He was dressed in a charcoal custom-tailored suit, snowy-white shirt and a subtle deep maroon tie. His silver-streaked dark hair was styled to perfection. His magnetic personality showed as he walked to the front row and shook hands.
Carrie felt the tightness around her heart and quickly pushed back the feeling. She had to keep emotions out of this. Richard Strong had a lot to answer for. Twenty years, to be exact. She might not deserve any explanation, but their son did.
Even over the cheers, she could hear the ringing of her cell phone. She quickly pulled it from her bag as she climbed over people to leave the room. Once in the hall she hurried to a quiet corner and pushed the button.
“Hello,” she answered, knowing it could only be either her son or the restaurant, La Grenouille Dorée, where she’d worked as a hostess since coming to Portland.
“Mom,” Jason spoke.
Carrie put her hand over her other ear so she could hear. “Jason, is something wrong?”
“That’s what I was about to ask you. Mom, I wish you’d come home.”
Carrie smiled sadly, hearing the worry in her son’s voice. He’d gone though so much during his nineteen years.
“Jason, we talked about this before. It’s something I need to do.”
She heard his long sigh. “If you’re doing this for me, don’t. I don’t need another father.”
Cynthia was so in tune with her mission of trotting Daisy around the corral, she hadn’t realized that the morning was gone. She’d been in the saddle most of it, and doing a pretty good job with the mare.
“I think you need to take a break,” Patrick suggested while she continued around the arena.
“Not yet.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.
She had worked through each and every command until the horse responded to her with ease. And she was far past walking the horse. She could trot now.
“I’m just getting it right.” There was so much to remember. She could feel the muscles in her legs tightening, and her arms were tired. She wasn’t used to this kind of exercise, but she loved it. And she found she loved riding. Who would have thought it?
In the center of the corral, Patrick rested his hands on his hips. “If you don’t stop, you’ll be so sore you won’t be able to sit in the saddle tomorrow.”
Hearing his warning, Cynthia pulled back on Daisy’s reins until she stopped. Patrick came over to help her dismount.
“I can do it,” she said.
He nodded. “If you say so.”
Cynthia slipped her right foot out of the stirrup and swung it over the back of the horse. She released the other boot and began to slide off Daisy. Suddenly the ground seemed a long way off and when she finally landed, whatever strength was left in her legs suddenly gave out.
Patrick grabbed her around the waist and held her up as she started to sway. He pulled her against him so she wouldn’t crumble into the dirt.
“I told you, you overworked this morning,” he said against her ear.
“I guess I am a little tired,” she admitted, much too aware of his large hands on her.
His eyes grew dark. “Do you think you can stand on your own?”
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.” And she slipped out of his hold.
“I want you to rest this afternoon,” he told her.
Regretfully, she moved away. Her legs were a little shaky, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “I don’t feel too bad. After some lunch and a couple of ibuprofen, I’ll be ready for the afternoon.”
“You can’t do it all in one day, Cyndi. Your body isn’t used to riding, and that bottom of yours is going to be sore as it is. So go up to the house and take a long soak in the tub, then rest. I’ll take care of Daisy.”
He started off with her horse, but she went after him. “I know what my body can and can not do, and I want to ride this afternoon.”
Irritation flashed across his face. “You don’t always get your way, Ms. Reynolds. Not around here anyway. You may want to ride, but I won’t be there to help you. As I told you before, I have a ranch to run. We’ll continue instruction tomorrow morning.” His stern gaze held hers a moment, then he turned and led Daisy to the barn.
Cynthia kicked at some loose dirt. Who did he think he was, telling her she couldn’t ride? Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with ditching her again. She worked hard not to limp as she made her way toward the house. She would be back, just as soon as she rested.
The long, hot bath had done nothing to ease her anger. She stepped into a pair of sweatpants and groaned, feeling her sore, tired muscles less tense, but still painful. After pulling on a shirt, she wiped the moisture off the mirror, then brushed her damp hair into a ponytail. She then added moisturizer to her face, gloss to her dry lips, and noticed that her nose was sunburned.
No wonder Patrick had sent her away. She thought back to her lesson and how he’d stood in the corral, directing, encouraging her all morning. He never took a break, drank only an occasional bottle of water, and he’d been in the sun as long as she had.
So what had hap
pened? Why did she feel as if she’d been dismissed and sent up to her room?
“Well, I can’t waste time trying to figure you out, Mr. Tanner. If I can’t ride, I have plenty of other things to do.”
Cynthia gathered her dirty clothes and returned to her room. First thing, she picked up her cell phone and made a call to her agent to find out the status of the movie. She got good news. The director of Cheyenne was interested in having her read for the female lead. Cynthia needed to be back in L.A. in a week to audition for the part.
With renewed energy, Cynthia turned on the portable cassette player and started Dr. Richie’s exercise routine. She knew the director was going to be looking at more than just her riding and acting ability. She had to look good in jeans, too.
Halfway through her high kicks, there was a knock on the door. Breathing hard, Cynthia went to see who it was, hoping Patrick was on the other side so she could slam the door in his face. But it was Nora, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that read Tanner Ranch.
“Nora, I didn’t know you’d be here. Do you need help with dinner?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we need your help with something else. In ten minutes we’re going to be invaded by about a dozen kids.”
“Oh, really?”
“Twice a month Patrick and I work with boys and girls from a shelter in Portland. They’ve had it pretty rough and they really need this time with the horses. I hate to ask, but how do you feel about helping out? It’d be just putting them on horses and walking them around the corral.”
“Sounds like something I can handle,” Cynthia said, realizing now why Patrick couldn’t spend time with her this afternoon. “I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Nora smiled, then handed her a T-shirt. “Now you’re official.”
By two o’clock, Patrick had just finished a quick sandwich as the shelter’s bus drove through the gate and stopped in front of the barn. Happy voices filled the air as the kids filed off. His attention stayed glued to each child who’d made it out today. Many of them had been coming here for almost a year, ever since Nora had suggested he start the riding program.
What a Man Needs Page 6