“I’ll give you a call before the article comes out. You tell that cowboy I said howdy.” He shifted the car into drive and roared off with flip of his beefy hand.
—
Sharp, stabbing pain woke Lang. Falling asleep with his back against the steering wheel hadn’t been a good plan but then he didn’t remember putting much consideration into his sleeping position.
He grumbled to himself about needing to revise his sleeping habits, then as carefully as possible shifted so his back lay flat against the soft seat where it should’ve been all along. The pain eased up a touch, enough for him to start thinking again, something he’d been trying hard not to do last night after he’d pulled off the road too tired to drive any farther.
Victoria’s justified accusations tumbled around him like bales of hay falling off a flat-bed truck—unpredictable and unwelcome but likely to happen.
A sad excuse for a cowboy.
She was probably right in some ways but not in the one way she meant it. Because she wasn’t some spoiled, city girl. She was a hardworking ranch owner, not somebody to mess with. It would’ve taken a whole herd of cowboys to uproot her.
A couple of mid-size cars rumbled past, probably the beginning of the morning traffic. If you could call it traffic out here in the desert.
Out of habit, Lang checked off the things in his truck bed. When his gaze flickered across the tied down bags, panic swept across his chest. Something was missing. He blinked, looked again.
His saddle.
He muttered a stream of impolite words as he gaped at the spot where it should’ve been. How could he have left his saddle behind? What good was a cowboy without a saddle? He might as well have left his hat behind too.
He spun back around so quickly he bumped his head on the roof but relief chased away the pain. The hat was in the rack, where it belonged. Unless it was on his head of course.
Obviously, he had two choices. Go back to The Circle Cat and get his saddle or leave it behind and forget he was a cowboy.
No matter how he felt about Victoria, or how she felt about him, he had to go back. Forgetting he was a cowboy would be like forgetting his name. It simply wasn’t going to happen.
He jammed his fingers through his snarly hair, trying to tame it but gave up and slammed his hat over the mess. All he had to do was go to the ranch, get his saddle and leave.
If he was quick about it he probably wouldn’t even see anyone.
He could be quick, no problem.
He flipped on the engine, then made a U-turn across the highway.
—
Unable to go inside the empty house, Victoria headed to the corral. She hooked her feet on the bottom rail and whistled to Sasabe. The mare’s ears perked up and she trotted over, sniffing for a treat.
“Sorry sweetie, I don’t have anything for you.”
The mare blinked her huge, dark eyes.
Victoria reached up to scratch the horse’s bright forelock. “More guests will be here next week. But it’ll just be you, me and Hank until then.”
Sasabe gave Victoria one last sniff, then tossed her long mane, trotting off to graze beside Prickly Pear and Cassie.
Unwelcome silence rang in Victoria’s ears. If Lang’s only motive had been to get the ranch for himself, why had he helped so much? It would’ve been much easier to get the place if she’d failed.
He’d believed in her enough to see her as a challenge?
If he didn’t care about her, why had he called the reporter?
Then there was their night together, something she knew she’d pulled him into. Sure, he’d wanted her just as much as she’d wanted him but if she were honest with herself she’d accept the truth—he’d tried not to get involved with her. He’d been honest about that from the start, had tried to convince her not to have what she kept insisting were carefree flings.
If she’d stayed away from him, not insisted on touching him, kissing him, pressing herself against him, she never would’ve known how it felt to have him deep inside her, making her body tense with nearly painful pleasure. She would’ve missed out on straddling him, sliding herself over his wonderfully stiff penis.
But how could she regret any of that?
She couldn’t.
She didn’t and she never would.
Unless it’d hurt him or left him with regrets.
“Victoria Moore?”
She shifted to spot a man striding toward her. A sudden rush of relief mixed with longing skimmed across her heart but her body’s reaction was way off.
He walked like Lang and even looked like Lang but it wasn’t him.
“Oh, hey.” He stopped, looking away from her to scan the yard. “Can you tell me where I can find a woman named Victoria Moore?”
Remembering the photographer from the newspaper, Victoria shook off her thoughts of Lang and hopped down from the fence. “I’m Victoria.”
Disbelief circled his face. “You?”
Had she looked so bad to the reporter that he’d told the man to expect weathered skin and ratty hair filled with chicken shavings?
“Is Lang Thompson here?”
She stalled. Even though he was out of her life, she heeded the protectiveness the stranger’s question aroused.
“Who’s asking?”
The man took in her folded arms and suspicious frown and had the nerve to chuckle. Instead of being taken aback by her hostility, he stepped closer. “His cousin, Cole.”
The man who was in on the ruse? She studied him, not feeling any of the animosity she would’ve expected to feel a couple of hours ago. “You do look like him,” was all she said.
“Only younger, right?”
She took in his dark hair, sunburned nose and long lashes. He hardly looked like the evil, plotting type. While she stared at him, he pulled off his hat, offering her a boyish grin.
His cheeriness was contagious and she found herself smiling back. “Okay,” she nodded, “You look younger.”
“So,” he said, turning his gaze away from her to look around the ranch. “Where is he?”
“Lang, he left.”
“Okay, I’ll wait in my truck.” He popped his hat back on, stepping back. “When will he be back?”
Victoria held in her sigh. “He’s not coming back.”
“You mean he’s gone for good, completely gone?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “He left with you here?”
“I own this place.”
“I understand that but—well…” He looked at his dusty boots. “He’s not coming back?”
Victoria’s anger had nearly worn off but not her curiosity. She stepped a bit closer to catch his reaction to her next question. “Why are you so surprised he left?”
His matter of fact reply started without hesitation then trailed off. “I ran into Vince and he said…”
“So you talked to Vince, the man at the horse auction and…” She rolled her hand, telling him to continue.
“From what he told me, I figured Lang would still be around.”
“What did he tell you?”
Cole shifted his feet, pushed his hat back and then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Just that you and Lang were well, gettin’ along, if you know what I mean.”
Obviously Vince mistakenly thought Lang’s enthusiasm for the horses had something to do with her. “Lang likes horses, doesn’t he?”
“Like ’em? Horses are his whole life.” His broad grin faded and he finished softly, “Or were…until…”
“Lori Anne?”
“Yeah.” Cole watched a chestnut gelding in the corral as it nipped playfully at a roan mare. “It’s a shame the way things turned out. Lang loved his horses, I mean really, almost like an obsession. And his ranch…it meant everything to him. Meant more to him than Lori Anne ever did, I’m guessing and…” He broke off, letting his gaze drift across the horses in the corral then back to her as though he’d expected to
see something, or someone, other than her standing there in the slanting afternoon sun.
He might be wanting her to be someone else but he might be just the person she needed. Finally, here was her chance to get answers about Lang. “You’re going to tell me exactly what happened. With everything. You know that don’t you?”
Sunshine glinted off the buckle on his brown hat as his head rolled from side-to-side. “If he’d wanted you to know he would’ve told you himself. I really should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
Victoria took his arm. “Come on up to the house. I’m going to get you something nice and cold to drink and you’re going to tell me everything.”
“My mom used to get that look in her eye,” he sighed, falling into step beside her. “I suppose if I’m going to let the muddy pig in the house, I might as well have a cold drink in my hand and a sturdy place to rest my heels.”
Victoria wasn’t at all sure what he meant about the muddy pig but she assumed it meant she was finally going to get some answers.
—
After Cole left, Victoria curled up on the porch swing to watch the aspens bend in the wind and reconsider everything she’d thought to be true—about Lang—and herself.
How could she have ever thought a life without commitments would be satisfying?
One of the things she loved about the ranch was its permanence, the steady way the land and the animals were dependable and true. How had she not realized she’d value the same things in herself? In a man?
When a truck turned off the main road, stirring up dust as it rumbled toward the house, she froze.
Lang.
With trembling fingers she smoothed back her hair and wiped away any smudges of mascara her tears might’ve caused. Her stomach turned stiff with anxiety and she folded her arms across her chest to hide her sudden jitters.
As soon as his truck stopped, he swung down from the cab. Her heart kicked up speed as each of his long strides brought him closer. She scanned his face for some indication of why he’d come back but the unreadable mask told her nothing. His dark eyes, usually expressive and gleaming, stared blankly at her.
She swallowed hard. After the careless way she’d cut through his attempt to explain, she deserved nothing less.
When he stopped inches from her, the heat from his body pressed into her, reminding her of his touch. His kiss. His strong capable body moving against hers. And the tender way he’d held her after they made love.
How could she have been so stupid, sending him away without giving him a chance to explain?
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, not really looking at her. “I forgot my saddle.”
His saddle.
After the way she had treated him, she couldn’t expect him to be coming back for her. She’d already rejected him. “No trouble, Lang. You’re welcome here any time.”
He pushed back his hat, watching the horses graze. “I’ll just get what I came for and be gone.”
When he started to spin away she grabbed his arm, lightly grasping his powerful forearm. “Wait, Lang.”
He leaned back on one foot, staring down at her hand.
“Please.”
His dark gaze came up and scanned her face and her throat went dry. This might be her only chance to make things right. She swallowed, forced herself to go on. “I’ve got more land than I need. And extra space in the barn. You can use it, for your horse breeding.”
When his eyes narrowed, she chattered on. “Really. I won’t get in your way and I bet Hank would love the company. You and Cole. You’re both welcome.”
He ran his palm across the scruffy stubble on his cheeks, glancing at her with his dark eyes. “You’re not making any sense, Victoria.”
Lang wouldn’t offer her his heart but that didn’t stop her from loving him or wanting him to be happy. She wanted his dreams to come true too. “I’m making perfect sense. I understand what you did, trying to chase me off the ranch. Dreams are strong. They make you do crazy things, whatever you have to do to make them come true.” She stepped closer, pleading with her eyes for him to listen. “Especially when you’ve had them snatched away.”
A touch of disapproval bit into his voice, his gaze turned darker still as he looked down at her. “What are you talking about?”
She didn’t hesitate to explain. “Cole came looking for you. He didn’t want to but I made him tell me everything.”
“First Vince, now Cole. You sure have a way of makin’ men talk.” His mouth flattened and his gaze went blank as he backed away. “He shouldn’t have been looking for me and he sure shouldn’t have said anything about what happened. That’s family business.”
But Victoria wasn’t about to give up. “I know Lori Anne broke your heart, that you’re still hurt by what she did, but you love horses and you’re great with them. You understand them. Much more than I do.”
She stepped closer. Hoping to take away some of the pain in his heart she pressed her palms against his chest and begged with her gaze. “We’ll make a deal—you’ll teach me what you know about horses in exchange for the use of the land and buildings.”
Victoria’s heart beat steadily in her chest, silence hung between them, still she waited, giving him the time he needed to think.
Finally, he took her hand, gently holding her fingers. “Losing Lori Anne didn’t break my heart. And neither did losing my house or most all my stuff. It was losing my animals that tore me up.” He reached out with his other hand to brush his fingertips across her cheek, trailing a path down her neck. “I didn’t figure that out until I came across you.”
The thick muscles of his chest expanded as he pulled in a deep breath. He let it out, then spoke, his voice soft but determined. “What happened in the past is the past. Breeding horses isn’t my dream anymore.”
Victoria’s stomach dropped. Losing faith in your dream had to be the worst thing in the world. “Don’t say that, Lang. It’s never too late—”
He cut her off with a look, sliding his thumb under her chin, lifting her face until their gazes connected. “Things changed,” he said, looking at her mouth. “You made them change.”
There had to be a way they could both have what they wanted. “But…”
He ignored her stammering and confusion. “You and The Circle Cat are my dream now.”
The words went straight to her heart but her brain wouldn’t accept them, they were too dazzling, powerful and a tiny bit frightening. So she cast them aside, shaking her head.
She shrugged. “I guess we could be business partners.”
“I don’t want to be business partners,” he said, still gazing at her mouth. “Victoria, I do want to stay here but with you.”
“Here, on the ranch. With me? You mean with me like—”
He laughed. “Yes, like that. And as often as possible.”
He continued to stare down at her, gazing deep into her eyes, waiting for her to say something.
For once, she couldn’t think of what to say or do.
She had seen that look on his face before but those simple words, spoken so plainly, changed everything between them.
“But you just said—”
“It doesn’t matter what I said before. I’m in love with you, Victoria.” He ran his hand down her neck, his passionate gaze branding her soul. “I want to be yours, I want you to mine.”
Victoria’s limbs softened and she swayed toward him, slowly accepting the truth that had been there all along.
A series of meaningless flings wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all.
She only wanted Lang because she’d fallen in love with him.
Maybe it happened while they watched those huge flames roar into the night. Maybe it was out on the trails. Or maybe it was that first day when she saw him standing among the barn debris.
It didn’t matter when. All that mattered was that he loved her too.
Still, there was one more thing.
“I’m sorry about being so stupid and not letting you e
xplain.”
He grinned, grabbing her around the waist to pull her against him. “You can make it up to me later.”
She rose up on tiptoe, ready to kiss him but paused. “Wait—what about Cole?”
“Cole?”
“He still wants to go into business with you. We can invite him to come stay here and you two can use the barn, the corrals, whatever you need.”
Lang placed a quick kiss on her mouth. “He stays in the bunkhouse though, right?”
“If you insist.”
“We’ll have to find him a girl too.” Lang nuzzled her neck, then added, “To keep him from pestering me.” He lifted his hands to cup her breasts as he murmured into her ear. “I know the perfect place to spend our honeymoon. It’s a tiny little place where nobody’ll bother us.” He eased back enough to look into her eyes. “What do you say Victoria, are you going to marry me?”
Love swelled in her heart, warming her from head to toe. Fulfilling her in a way she’d only imagined. She embraced the sensation, knowing that the fiery affection flowing through her veins was hers forever. Still, she didn’t have to make things too easy on him. “Marry you? I don’t know, guess you’ll have to stick around and see.”
About the Author
Thrill-seeking risk takers, heroes with the dark past, sexy locales, untamed women! Isabelle Drake writes stories featuring men and women who aren’t afraid to go after what they want. An avid traveler, she’ll go just about anywhere—at least once—to meet people and get story ideas.
Isabelle welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.cerridwenpress.com.
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If you are interested in a spicier read (and are over 18), check out her erotic romance at Ellora’s Cave Publishing (www.ellorascave.com).
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Cowboy For Hire Page 16