Single In The Saddle

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Daphne!” he bellowed.

  No answer. But the dog came trotting down the hall and over to him, tail wagging.

  Patting the dog absently, he called Daphne’s name again, and still got no answer. He knew she had to be here. She had nowhere else to go. He began to panic. What if something had happened to her? She’d stayed alone in the house most of the day, and maybe she’d fallen and hit her head, or been bitten by something she was allergic to. Damn, he should have sent somebody back to check on her during the day, to make sure she was all right.

  Heart pounding, he started checking every room in the house. Finally he made it to the last bedroom down the hall on the left, and there she was, propped up on pillows, reading. Perfectly fine. He wanted to wring her neck for scaring him so bad.

  She glanced up at him. “Hello.”

  “What do you mean hello? Didn’t you hear me call you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something?”

  She regarded him quietly. “I may be enjoying your hospitality in exchange for my decorating services, Mr. Arnett, but that doesn’t mean I have to come running just because you shout my name as if you were calling the hogs.”

  He was trying to follow what she was saying, but with her propped on a bed like that, he kept remembering how she’d been propped in his bed the night before. And last night she hadn’t been calling him Mr. Arnett, either. “Could you go back to calling me Stony? It sounds a whole lot friendlier.”

  “That depends. There was nothing friendly about the way you yelled out Daphne at the top of your lungs when you first came in the door.”

  “I was afraid you’d been hurt or something.”

  “Really? That first shout sounded more like a wounded bear than a worried man.”

  He had been upset, but one look at her in those cutoff shorts and he couldn’t for the life of him remember why. “Yeah, well, I probably shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m not used to...to having someone else around. You’ll have to excuse my poor manners.”

  “Apology accepted.” The set of her shoulders relaxed a bit.

  He glanced around the spotless room, which contained only the iron bedstead with its mattress and some flowery sheets on it. “So this is the place you picked.”

  “I thought under the circumstances it would be best for both of us if I stayed as far away from your room as possible.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you.” But she was going to bother him, he had a feeling. He might be wise to start sleeping in the barn. He’d put in a long, tough day, and he shouldn’t have any energy left, but the longer he stood in the doorway of her room, the more he wanted to join her on that bed.

  She put aside her book. “What’s the plan for dinner?”

  “To tell the truth, I don’t know.”

  “We can just have whatever you usually have. I’m not picky.”

  He rubbed his chin and noted that he could use another shave. “I usually eat down at the bunkhouse with the boys.”

  “Oh.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  He caught himself watching the way the fringe of the cutoffs moved against her thighs and he looked away again.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and eat down there, then?” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll just poke around in the kitchen and see what I can find.”

  Guilt washed over him. “I’ll bet you didn’t have any lunch.”

  “Well, no, but that’s okay. I just didn’t want to go through your cupboards without discussing it with you first.”

  “Aw, Daphne, admit it. You’re starving to death.”

  She met his gaze. “Okay, I could eat an entire Thanksgiving meal, start to finish, by myself. I thought I’d keel over from hunger before you got home.”

  He grinned. “That’s more like it. Let me clean up and feed the dog. Then we’ll go into town for dinner.”

  “But—”

  “You could poke around in the cupboards for a week and not find anything but bread and coffee, and maybe a can of beans. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a steak.”

  Her eyes began to sparkle. “You’re on.”

  “Good.” He turned away. “I’ll be ready before you know it,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I think I’ll change, too.”

  He turned back to her. “No need. It’s not a fancy place, and you haven’t been out on the range all day. You’re fine the way you are.”

  “Thanks, but I still think I’ll put on something a little nicer.”

  “Hey, it’s not like we’re going on a date. You look fine.”

  The sparkle left her eyes.

  He cursed himself for being an insensitive fool. Being tired didn’t excuse being an idiot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I only meant—”

  “I know exactly what you meant.” All the pleasure had left her expression. “And you don’t have to take me out at all. Go down to the bunkhouse. If you’ll loan me your truck, I’ll drive to the grocery store and stock up on a few things for myself.”

  “The store’s not open this time of night. You’re in the country now.” He sighed and repositioned his Stetson. “Daphne, we’re in what you’d call an awkward situation here,” he said.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You could say that.”

  “It seems to be causing me to act like a first-class jerk.”

  “You could say that, too.”

  He hoped the little lift at the corn of her mouth was the hint of a smile. “I think we need to talk a few things out,” he said.

  “Maybe so.”

  “I think a lot better with a good meal in my belly.”

  “So do I.”

  “I’d like to take you to dinner, Daphne, if you’re willing to go with a guy who has a bad case of hoof-in-mouth disease. I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.” He decided to leave her on that note. In fifteen minutes he’d know whether she’d accepted his invitation, such as it was. Ordinarily he was a lot smoother with women, but ordinarily both he and the woman understood the rules—fun and games, no entanglements. In this case there didn’t seem to be a single rule worth using.

  DAPHNE’S STOMACH was rumbling by the time she climbed into Stony’s battered but serviceable pickup truck. She hadn’t changed clothes, but vanity had tempted her to put on a little makeup, comb her hair and spritz some of her favorite cologne at her wrists and throat

  Stony smelled darn good, too, sort of a minty scent overlaying the aroma of clean male. Unless she missed her guess, he’d shaved in addition to showering. Both his white western shirt and jeans were freshly washed, and his hat was a newer, nicer version of the brown Stetson he’d worn out on the range today. He was one yummy cowboy as he steered the pickup down the dirt lane leading to the paved road into town.

  Not that it seemed to matter to her libido whether he was grimy or dean. What he’d never know, because she’d never tell him, is how attracted to his range-weary look she’d been when he’d appeared in her bedroom doorway this evening. She’d longed to hold out her arms and welcome him home, smooth the frown of concern from his forehead and comfort him with kisses. As an added temptation, she knew how satisfying those kisses could be.

  The sun dipped below the hills as they proceeded toward town, and the afterglow tinged the landscape rosy orange. She remembered checking the calendar before she’d left Hawaii. A full moon was on the way. Try as she might, she couldn’t eliminate the wrench of disappointment every time she thought of how things might have been tonight if Stony had truly been the author of those letters.

  Of course, if she just wanted sexual satisfaction, she’d bet good money Stony would agree to an affair with no strings attached. He’d apparently had a great time last night, and if she told him she’d changed her mind about being chaste until she found a marriage partner, he’d probably think that was a terrific idea. But tempting as Stony was, she refused to compromise her belief in meaningful
lovemaking. She would wait for the love of her life to come along before giving up her virginity...again.

  She opened her window and let the summer breeze flow in, bringing with it the scent of woods and wildflowers. The rusty screech of a barn owl came from a thicket near the road. Hawaii was beautiful, no doubt about it, but she’d missed the familiar sights, smells and sounds of home. She took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the seat. She had a place to sleep, potential clients, and was about to have a good old-fashioned Texas beefsteak. Life could be worse.

  “By the way, what did you do with my magazines and catalogs?” Stony asked, his voice casual.

  She heard the careful tone of his voice and knew he was making an effort. No doubt his bellowing when he first came home had to do with her rearranging the living room this afternoon. “I stacked them, by date, in a box I found. I put the box in the front hall closet.”

  He let out a little sigh. “That’s good.”

  “You don’t really want me to redecorate the ranch house, do you?”

  “Now, I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. I can see you tense up each time you think I’m going to mess with something of yours. Jasper found me a couple of clients today. If I can get my business going, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  “I admit I tense up, but that doesn’t mean I won’t like what you do, once I get used to it. When I walked back through the living room tonight, I had to admit the furniture looks better the way you have it. You can move around the room easier.”

  Hearing that was gratifying, considering that was exactly what she’d been trying to accomplish. The ranch house would be a fun challenge if she didn’t think he’d come in bellowing every evening when he discovered the latest change she’d made to his environment.

  “You have to understand that I’ve never lived in a real house before,” Stony said. “I bought this place as is, with the furniture and everything. The house seemed like a luxury hotel after being on the road all my life. It didn’t occur to me to change anything. I just left it the way it was when I moved in.”

  She found herself watching the motions of his hand on the steering wheel. He drove with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent hours on the road. The tilt of his wrist and the flex of his fingers reminded her of the way he’d touched her while they’d made love. Damn him for being so good at it. “I can’t imagine living the way you did, all those years,” she said. “Keeping all your belongings in the back of a pickup as you traveled from one rodeo to another, sleeping in the truck so you could save the cost of a motel.”

  He glanced at her. “How’d you know I slept in the truck?”

  “From your—from Jasper’s letters.”

  He was silent for a while. “Where are they? The letters, I mean.”

  “In my suitcase. I thought of burning them today, considering they’re all fake. But I’d already cleaned out the fireplace and I didn’t want to fill it with new ash.”

  “You cleaned out the fireplace? You didn’t need to do that.”

  “Oh, I especially needed to clean out the fireplace, to protect your reputation. Otherwise, everyone might not believe that I’m your cousin from Hawaii.”

  “I’m not following this. What has the fireplace got to do with my reputation?”

  “According to the principles of feng shui, it happens to be located in the fame and reputation sector of your house. I think I’ll make some sort of dried flower arrangement to perk it up. For the time being, your reputation and mine are linked, so I’m protecting my interests, too. At the very least, the ashes needed to be cleaned out so—”

  “Hold it. My house has sectors? What in tarnation are you talking about?”

  “If you’re going to use that belligerent tone, I’m not going to explain it to you.”

  He took a long, deep breath. “I don’t know what it is about you that gets me agitated so fast. I’m usually a very calm guy.”

  The darkness hid her smile. “Really. In the past twenty-four hours you’ve been in a bar fight, violated your principles and slept with a woman you believed to be a prostitute, nearly fired all your wranglers and started yelling at me the minute you came home. This is calm?”

  “My routine’s shot to hell, is all. And now you’re telling me that cleaning out my fireplace is going to keep the town from talking behind our backs. It’s too much for this ol’ country boy, Daphne. All I want is a simple, peaceful existence. No frills. No hysterics.”

  She gazed at his profile in the light from the dash. After weeks of gazing at a photograph of him, she was fascinated by the play of different emotions over those familiar features. She’d fallen in love with a lie, but she was having a hard time convincing her heart of that, especially when he said things that echoed phrases from the letters. “Jasper must know you pretty well,” she said. “He and the boys wrote something like that, about wanting a peaceful life.”

  Stony was silent for a while. “When we get home, I’d appreciate having those letters to read, if you don’t mind. Might as well know what I was supposed to have said.”

  “You can just have them, period. I certainly don’t want them anymore.” Daphne hadn’t been entirely truthful when she’d told him why she didn’t burnhe letters. In actuality she’d been unable to destroy them, although logically she knew that keeping them was only prolonging a fantasy that should be allowed to die a merciful death. If Stony took the letters, that would be the end of that, which was probably a good thing.

  “Daphne, for what it’s worth, I wish I could be the man you thought I’d be. But I’m just not.”

  “Of course you’re not. How could you be?” Yet deep in her heart nestled a thought that wouldn’t die, a belief that despite the evidence, he could be that man.

  STONY HADN’T TAKEN a woman out for a meal since he’d moved to Rio Verde, so he should have figured it would cause comment among the residents. The steakhouse was the only one in town, so of course he saw lots of folks he knew. Each time, he introduced Daphne as his cousin from Hawaii who would be staying with him for a while. He was pretty sure they didn’t buy the story.

  After the fourth person had left their table with that information, Daphne giggled. “I remembered small towns were nosy, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Apparently I’ve been more of a topic of discussion than I thought,” Stony said as their meal arrived.

  “They don’t believe this cousin stuff?”

  “Nope.” Stony cut into his meat. “Even if you did clean out the fireplace. But I imagine they appreciate that we came up with the story, instead of acting as if we don’t give a hoot what people think.”

  “Do you?”

  He paused with the fork poised in midair. “Do I what?”

  “Give a hoot.”

  “Not really. But you do, so we’ll do our best to make them believe us.” He took a bite of his steak and had to admit it was better than any of the boys could cook up. And sitting across a restaurant table from Daphne was a sight more pleasant that eating in the bunkhouse with his wranglers.

  Daphne plunged right into her meal without preliminaries, and he got a kick out of the obvious enjoyment she took in her food. Come to think of it, this might be the first decent meal she’d had since she arrived in Texas. Under the circumstances, she probably didn’t have much of anything last night, either.

  She paused for a moment and glanced up at him. “What are you smiling at?”

  He hadn’t realized he’d been smiling. “I guess because I haven’t shared a dinner with a pretty woman in a long time, and I’d forgotten how nice it could be.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes took on that inviting sparkle again. “I haven’t been very good at creating stimulating dinner conversation, I’m afraid. I was very hungry.”

  “That’s okay. I like a woman who appreciates her food.”

  Daphne pointed at her plate with her fork. “This is one of the things I was looking forward to—top sirloin, Texassty
le.”

  “Then go for it Don’t let me interrupt.”

  “Thanks. I believe I will. This is excellent.”

  It was excellent, Stony thought as he started in on his own meal again. The food didn’t absorb all his attention, though. He couldn’t help noticing how the candle in the red glass container sent flickers of light over her hair, the way the candles had done last night when he’d first walked in. Every time he thought about her lighting all those candles and carefully making the bed in preparation for his return, his heart ached for her. Jasper had really set her up for a fall, one she obviously didn’t deserve.

  Finally she nudged back her plate with a sigh. “That was wonderful. I think I’ll live.”

  “Dessert? I hear they make good homemade pie here.”

  “You’re going to think I’m a pig, but I’d love that.”

  “I don’t think you’re a pig. You probably haven’t eaten in two days. Besides, you’ll be keeping me company. I’m having some, too.”

  After their plates were cleared and they were waiting for the pie to arrive, he leaned his elbows on the table and gazed at her. “Jasper and Ty showed me the magazine with my picture in it.”

  She met his gaze. “And you’re wondering why I wrote away to a mail-order magazine.”

  “Not really. It’s not so easy to meet the right person, and from what I hear, you don’t find them hanging around the bars. Writing to someone for a while, you’d get to know them before you got in over your head.”

  “Well, it was supposed to work that way.”

  “But you had to pick the ringer in the group. I was actually wondering why you wrote to me instead of the guy on the next page, who had a lot more muscles.” He had an unsettling thought. “Or did you try him first and I was second best? God, maybe I was at the end of the line. Don’t tell me if I was.”

  She laughed. “Goodness, you have got your ego involved with this, haven’t you?”

  “I didn’t know I had until this minute. Forget it, you don’t have to tell me anything. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”