Single In The Saddle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “That’s the point. You don’t have no love life to be concerned about,” Ty said.

  Stony grinned and shook his head. “Look, I appreciate the thought, and I’ll consider it, once the drought eases up and there’s more time to think about such things. Just my luck, the minute I buy a ranch, the Hill Country gets its driest summer in fifty years.”

  Some indistinct murmuring among Andy, Ty and even Ramon aroused Stony’s suspicion. Something was going on, and he wasn’t at all sure he was going to like it.

  Finally Ty spoke up. “Here’s the thing. We could tell you didn’t have no time to look for a girl, so we... well, we thought it might be a good idea if we sort of...”

  “You’d better get it all out, and quick,” Andy said. “We’re almost there. He has to know.”

  “Know what?” Stony was surprised to see Jasper’s pickup truck parked under the security light near the bunkhouse, and a horrible possibility dawned on him. He turned toward the back of the van. “When is your birthday, Andy?”

  “Technically?”

  “Yeah, technically. Is it even this month?”

  “Well...”

  “Uh-huh. And I don’t suppose Jasper has a sick relative in San Antonio, either, does he?”

  Ty cleared his throat. “Well, no. You see, Jasper went into San Antonio to pick up—”

  “My God. You boys have hired a hooker.”

  AFTER SEEING THE INSIDE of Stony’s ranch house that evening, Daphne concluded that he needed her desperately. The furniture was what some called “cowboy oak,” rugged pieces with clean lines, but the wood’s beauty was covered with layers of dust. The arrangement was haphazard, and yellowed newspapers and catalogs littered most of the surfaces. Not a curtain fluttered at a window, not a flower poked out of a vase. The friendliest thing about the room was the golden retriever who greeted them with tail wagging.

  “And who’s this?” Daphne asked.

  “Dog.”

  “I figured that out. What’s her name?”

  “Just Dog.” Jasper scratched behind the retriever’s ears. “That’s the only name Stony’ll give her. She wandered onto the ranch last winter and has been here ever since. She dotes on Stony, but he claims she’s not really his dog, because he don’t want a dog. But, personally, I think he’s kinda attached to her.” Jasper looked around the room. “Whatcha think of the place?”

  The weathered cowboy seemed so eager for her to be happy here that she disguised her dismay and smiled. “It’s just fine, Jasper. Very nice. Where shall I put my things?” She figured Stony would initially house her in a guest room, although she didn’t expect to be there long.

  Jasper’s color heightened and his mustache twitched. “Uh, Stony’s room, I reckon. I didn’t—that is, he didn’t say nothing different.”

  So her man was ready to start playing house right away, was he? Knowing his ultimate goal was marriage; Daphne didn’t mind a bit. With a sense of anticipation, she rolled her suitcase down the hall as Jasper led her to the master bedroom. Maybe Stony had spent some time preparing this room, at least.

  “Stony, he’s been real busy,” Jasper said over his shoulder. “We’re in a drought, and we’ve spent most of our time moving the herd so they get enough grass. Not much time for housekeeping chores.”

  Apparently not, Daphne thought as she surveyed the unmade bed. Stony probably didn’t care that it was an elegant four-poster crying out for a lace canopy. Then she reminded herself that Stony had grown up without a mother and probably didn’t put much importance on dusting and making beds, let alone decorating. She could hardly wait to turn this place into a welcoming home, something Stony apparently never had.

  She propped her suitcase in a corner of the room and turned to Jasper. “How about if you find me some clean sheets and I change the bed for him?”

  Jasper looked uncomfortable. “Oh, I could do that, ma’am. Let me rustle you up a sandwich in the kitchen and then I’ll straighten up in here.”

  “Jasper, I didn’t come here to be waited on. I’m too excited to eat, and this will give me something to do while I wait for Stony. When do you think he’ll be back from town?”

  Jasper’s mustache twitched. “That’s hard to say, exactly. Most any time, I guess. Or could be later. I hope you’re not too disappointed that he’s not here, but the boys thought a couple of beers would help calm his nerves.”

  “Believe me, I understand. I’m a little nervous myself.” Understatement of the year, she thought. “If you don’t mind, I’ll probably feel better if I can spend some time alone settling into the house before Stony comes back.”

  “I think Stony keeps some Jack Daniel’s in the cupboard, if you want a shot of whiskey,” Jasper offered.

  Daphne wasn’t a whiskey drinker, but she was sorely tempted. She shook her head. “Thanks, anyway.”

  “Then I’ll get you those sheets.”

  Moments later she bid Jasper goodbye with a sense of relief. He took the dog back to the bunkhouse with him, and although she wouldn’t have minded the retriever’s company, she decided the dog might be an unnecessary distraction once Stony arrived.

  After making up the bed and turning back the covers, Daphne considered tackling the mess in the living room, but she’d hate for Stony to show up in the middle of the process. A cleaning woman wasn’t the image she wanted to project. She and Stony had sent each other sentimental love poems and confided their innermost dreams to each other. This first moment needed to be something special, a fantasy that matched the romance of their courtship so far.

  Fortunately she’d brought some candles along in her suitcase. With the lights off and candles lit, the dust and clutter faded into the background. She found an old radio on a table in the corn and turned it on. Country-western music, turned low, added another layer of atmosphere. Now she was getting somewhere.

  For the first time, she allowed herself to imagine this place as her future home and admitted to herself how important that was to her. Even her career choice of interior decorating had blossomed from her longing for a home of her own. Stony wasn’t the only one who wanted to create a safe haven after being bumped around in a turbulent world.

  Daphne’s mother was on her fourth husband, and the only time Daphne remembered feeling as if she belonged was on a ranch not so far from here owned by husband number three. That happiness had lasted until she turned eighteen and her stepfather had tried to seduce her. Unwilling to tell her mother, she’d accepted a scholarship in Hawaii, because it seemed like the only place that would put her truly out of harm’s way.

  But she’d missed Texas. Now her mother was in Michigan with her fourth husband, and Daphne, at long last, was back in her beloved Hill Country. She felt sorry for her mother, who believed so fiercely in happy endings but lacked the patience to wait for the right man. Daphne had noticed that same flaw in herself. Texas Men had seemed like the perfect solution, because she’d had to save the money for the plane trip before she could fly to meet her new love. And now her patience was about to pay off.

  “YOU’VE GOT IT WRONG, boss!” Ty said as Big Clyde eased the van toward the front of the ranch house. “You see, Jasper, he heard about—”

  “So Jasper hired her, then. Same thing!”

  “No, really,” Big Clyde said. “It’s not what you—”

  “Is there or is there not a woman waiting for me in that house?” Stony thundered as the van stopped by the front gate.

  “There is,” Ty said, “but she—”

  “This puts all of Andy’s little practical jokes in the shade.” Stony threw open the door. “Well, she’ll just have to leave. I sure as hell don’t want a hired woman in my bed!”

  All the wranglers started talking at once.

  “Y’all just hush!” Stony glared at them. “I’ll get Jasper to take this woman back and then we’ll have a talk. A long talk.”

  “We’re dead men,” Ty said with a groan.

  “That could well be,” Stony said, slamming
the door of the van.

  “Her name’s Daphne!” Big Clyde called out the window after Stony. “Daphne Proctor!”

  “Sure it is,” Stony muttered as he swung open the gate and strode down the walkway. “As if she’d give out her real name.” He’d never been with a prostitute, but he knew a lot of guys who had. The idea had never appealed to him. After two years of working with these guys, he’d expect them to understand him better than this.

  The porch steps squeaked loudly as he took them two at a time. “I’m gonna kill Jasper,” he vowed as he flung open the door and stepped into...candlelight.

  Not a light bulb burned in the living room, but candles flickered everywhere. He never lit candles, not even when the electricity went out. Then he used a battery-powered lantern. He was stopped in his tracks by how different the room looked in this light. The flickering glow picked out the good points—the rock fireplace and oak furniture—and disguised the worn cushions and the layer of dust covering everything. Soft music played in the background, and for the first time since he could remember the place looked inviting.

  “I...brought the candles from Hawaii,” said a soft, musical voice.

  Damn, but she sounded nice. Sweet. But of course she wasn’t. She apparently made enough as a hooker to afford trips to Hawaii. He shuddered to think what Jasper and the boys had paid for her to come here. He looked in the direction of the voice and saw her standing in the shadows.

  “It’s good to meet you at last,” she said, stepping toward him.

  As the light fell on her face, he caught his breath. Damned if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a coon’s age. And if he could park his pride for the night, she was all his.

  2

  SHE WASN’T QUITE what Stony had expected. No wonder she made so much money at her trade, looking like she did. The candlelight picked out the red highlights in her shiny hair and put a gleam in her brown eyes. Her skin looked smooth and warm, her full mouth tempting. He realized just how long it’d been since he’d held a woman. Sending this one away would take a powerful effort.

  To make matters worse, he didn’t feel in complete control of himself. The beers had sabotaged his famous discipline and the bar fight had pumped him full of adrenaline. The combination put him in the mood for exactly what the lady was offering.

  “You’re... Daphne,” he said, his vocal cords feeling rusty.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “That’s...that’s me.”

  He’d always thought call girls were more polished than this. Daphne, or whatever her name was, seemed jumpy and unsure of herself. God, what if she was a beginner and he was her first customer? What if he rejected her and she started to cry? Her floral scent reached out to him, teasing him with the thought of making love to her. Despite his angry statement to his cowhands, despite his reluctance to engage in hired sex, he was becoming aroused.

  Then he realized something was missing. “Where’s the dog?”

  “Jasper took her down to the bunkhouse. She’s a very nice dog.”

  “Yeah, she is.” His pulse jumped with excitement just hearing her voice. “So Jasper picked you up.”

  “Yes, and I understand completely why he came to San Antonio instead of you. It gives us both a chance to... get used to the idea.”

  That really confused him, unless she actually was trying this for the first time. Poor girl, maybe she was in a bad way financially. Maybe she’d decided the only answer was to put her terrific-looking body on the block. She wore a classy outfit, which surprised him, considering her profession. A knit top draped nicely over her breasts and tucked into a garment he hadn’t seen much lately, a skirt. The skirt came to just above her knees, giving him a glimpse of leg and a whole lot of ideas he shouldn’t be having.

  “Jasper told me you went into town to have a few beers with your wranglers,” she said. “I don’t blame you for being nervous. I’ve been a bundle of nerves myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But I shouldn’t be. And you’re just the way I imagined you,” she said, venturing a little closer. “Am I the way you imagined me?”

  “No,” he said.

  Hurt flashed in her large eyes.

  “I mean, you look better,” he said. “Lots better.”

  “Oh.” She smiled.

  The smile just about finished him. When she smiled, she looked fresh, and almost innocent. That was a laugh. But an innocent look on the face of a woman who traded sex for money sure made things more interesting.

  He gestured to the candles. “You went to a lot of trouble.”

  “I thought it was important.”

  He felt his resolve slipping away. She was either a beginner or she loved her work enough to really put some effort into it. How many men could turn away from that prospect? If he’d found a hardened professional in this room, he could have sent her packing without a second thought. But this one was so into the romance of it, almost as if they were soul mates instead of two people conducting a business transaction.

  She came closer, then gasped. “You’re hurt! Did something happen?”

  He shrugged. “Just a bar fight.” This latest development had made him forget all about it. “It was nothing, really. I’m okay.”

  “That bruise looks painful.” Her breasts nearly touched his shirtfront as she reached up and brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek.

  He couldn’t seem to stop looking into her dark eyes, so filled with concern, as if she really did care what happened to him.

  She trailed her finger down his cheek. “With you going into town for drinks to shore up your courage, and with me anticipating this moment for so long, it almost feels like...”

  He found breathing difficult. “Like what?”

  “It’ll sound silly.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “It feels like a wedding night.”

  His heart went out to her. Poor kid, she’d probably given up hope of the real thing, so she had to fantasize about the experience when she was with a customer.

  “Would you like to kiss me?” she murmured.

  She had to be unusual, he decided. He’d heard that hookers didn’t like to kiss their clients. They might do everything else in the book, but no mouth-to-mouth contact. He faced the fact that he wanted to kiss her, badly. He imagined sinking into that velvet fullness, tasting lipstick-flavored excitement as he explored the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue. But as turned on as he was right now, if he kissed her it would all be over. He’d take her back into that bedroom and love her all night long, assuming Jasper had paid for that amount of time.

  She placed her hand gently on his chest and gazed up at him. “I’ve been saving myself for you, Stony.”

  Oh, she was good. If she was half as good in bed as she was delivering these virginal-sounding lines, he’d be passing up a real treat. A treat the boys had probably paid for out of their hard-earned wages because they thought he should stop living like a monk. They’d obviously searched carefully before choosing a woman like Daphne to ease this ache he’d pretended didn’t exist. They’d gone to a heap of trouble, and so had this woman, with her candles and all. He’d be an ungrateful saddle tramp to refuse what had been so generously offered.

  Maybe he needed to take the night off in more ways than one. Maybe the boys were right, and he needed to relax and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh for a change. It had been a very, very long time.

  Slowly he cupped her face in both hands, and her skin felt just as delicious beneath his fingers as he’d expected. “I’ve been saving myself for you, too, Daphne,” he murmured. Then he closed his eyes and touched his mouth to hers.

  DAPHNE HAD IMAGINED this moment at least a million times. Winding her arms around his neck, she packed weeks of anticipation and longing into her kiss. She wanted Stony to know how deeply she cared for him, how glad she was to find a man who believed in lifelong commitment. After all the written words that had passed between them, at last they could
communicate in the ageless way designed for lovers.

  On the plane, she’d wondered if they’d spend hours talking before they finally found the courage to touch each other. But when she’d realized he intended for them to share a bed tonight, when she’d heard him pounding up the steps, so eager to see her, she’d known they’d be in each other’s arms in no time. Finding out he’d been hurt in a fight had awakened her nurturing, protective instincts. She would gladly give up her virginity to this special, caring man.

  Tossing his hat aside, he groaned deep in his throat and pulled her close. At last she could experience what she’d dreamed of for weeks—his strong arms wrapped around her, his broad chest pressing with exquisite force against her aching breasts, his mouth seeking the heat within hers. They’d never discussed the physical side of their relationship in their letters, but they were discussing it now in the only way that counted. His obvious arousal sent the message that this was a union of body and soul.

  He was wild for her, and she loved every frantic movement as he tugged her knit top from the waistband of her skirt and slid his hand up her back to unhook her bra. Later they could take their time, but now desperation drove them both to seal their bargain in an elemental way.

  Skimming the top over her head and taking her bra with it, he tossed the garment over a nearby chair and cupped her breasts in both hands. “So perfect,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping back to her face. “You seem...untouched.”

  “Because that’s the way I feel.” She covered his hands with hers. “For me the past is wiped away, and you are the first man I’ve ever known.” She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “Teach me about pleasure, Stony.”

  His breath caught. Then the air stirred above her puckered nipples as he leaned down and gently swirled his tongue over each one.

  She trembled. “I like that.”

  Stroking her nipples with his thumbs, he kissed the hollow of her throat. “You’re bewitching me, lady.”