Claimed by a Cowboy

by Tanya Michaels

  He came toward her, his expression wicked in the shadows. “That reminds me. There was something I wanted to do that night.” He kept walking and didn’t stop when he reached her, instead backing her into the wall without actually touching her.

  Lorelei licked her lips, her heart thudding faster. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  In answer, he reached for both her hands, raising them over her head and holding them against the wall. When he kissed her, her body went so liquid she wouldn’t have been able to stand without his support.

  Food would definitely have to wait.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lorelei was glad this trail ride was only a two-day event. She hadn’t brought many pairs of jeans with her. Sam had grunted his approval when he saw her bag that she knew how to “pack light.” Truthfully, it wasn’t as though she’d had that many options.

  He was outside putting their stuff in the bed of the truck and she was taking the quiet moment alone to regroup. When they came back, this would all be over. Sam had other jobs lined up, other places to be, and the real estate company would begin showing the inn to potential buyers. Even though Lorelei would be back here after the campout, this felt like goodbye.

  She looked around the sun-filled kitchen, memories swirling together. While she and her mother might have had their differences, Wanda had loved her and had tried to make her trips home fun-filled. She remembered three Christmases ago, when her mother had finally coerced her into sharing some spiked eggnog, and they’d attempted to build a gingerbread house together. They’d giggled at the “structurally unsound” results while licking frosting off their fingers.

  “No way would any company ever allow home-owners insurance on this wreck,” Lorelei had said on a laugh.

  More recently, Lorelei had joked with Ava and Tess in this same kitchen. And, night before last, made love with Sam. Heat blazed into her cheeks as she recalled the intensity with which he’d taken her against the wall. Even if she hadn’t wanted to run this place, and certainly couldn’t envision herself organizing ghost tours year-round, she felt a fondness toward the inn she’d never experienced before.

  “You were right, Mom,” she whispered. “I’m glad I came for the festival.” Lorelei almost laughed when she heard the soft tinkling of the dragonfly chimes, even though she knew it was simply the breeze through the window, not a reply from the Great Beyond.

  Wait. Didn’t Ava have those chimes now? She whipped her head around to glare at the empty hook over the kitchen sink.

  “Knock knock?” The back door swung open and Ava stepped inside. “I just came to tell you guys to have a nice trip and promise that I’ll actually interact with Oberon. Even if I have to wear gloves and football pads to protect myself.”

  Lorelei laughed. “Believe it or not, he seems like he’s mellowed. Sam and I both pet him on a near daily basis and still have ten fingers each.” Of course, the cat had been furious when they’d locked him out of Sam’s room again last night. She frowned suddenly, making a mental note to close her and Sam’s bedroom doors before they left. Just in case Obie objected to being left behind.

  “I also wanted to stop by before you left to make sure you were feeling okay. Emily mentioned that you and Sam left rather abruptly the other night?” Ava raised her glance to the ceiling, not meeting Lorelei’s eyes. “And no one’s seen either of you since.”

  Though it was obvious by Ava’s forced nonchalance that she’d already deduced what happened, Lorelei couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. “What do you mean no one’s seen us?” She did her best to sound mystified. “We’ve been around. Just, um, a little busy getting ready for the trail ride.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Lorelei was utterly grateful when Sam came inside, putting a damper on Ava’s questions.

  “All ready?” Sam asked. Lorelei nodded and they both said goodbye to Ava.

  They were several miles down the road before she realized she’d forgotten to close the bedroom doors. Oh, well. If the cat was moved to show his displeasure over their being gone, it wasn’t as if there weren’t targets all through the inn.

  “Hey, Sam? I’ve been thinking about Oberon. What are we going to do with him? Mom mentioned that the inn is his home, but neither of us are staying. And I don’t think Ava’s bonded with him quite like we have.”

  “So what do you suggest, some kind of split custody arrangement? You take him year-round and he can stay with me for the summer and Christmas break?”

  “Ha-ha. I was being serious.”

  He hesitated. “You know I’m not very stationary. I have my trailer, but he’s used to a lot more room. Plus, there are coyotes nearby and if he were ever to get out… I, uh, I’ve gotten kind of used to the little bugger. I didn’t mean to, but it’ll be tough to see him go.” Braking at a red light, Sam turned to capture her gaze with his. “Probably best for me not to hold on, though.”

  The backs of her eyes burned. So did her throat, making it difficult to speak. Then the light turned green, Sam looked away and the moment passed.

  A few minutes later, when the silence felt oppressive, she said, “I guess I’ll take him, then.” It came out sounding resentful, which she didn’t mean. She’d grown accustomed to having the cat around, too. Seeing his fuzzy face when she came through the door after a long day would make her feel a lot less lonely back in Philadelphia.

  “You sure you don’t mind?” Sam asked. “I recall your saying something once about not being cut out to own pets.”

  “Yeah.” She stared out the window. “But I’ve…changed since I got here.” In more ways than you want to know about.

  Owning a cat was the least of her worries.

  SAM’S EYEBROWS WERE raised as he took in Lorelei’s fretful expression. Keeping his voice low enough that none of the tourists or ranch hands in the long barn overheard, he whispered, “You told me you liked horses, that you’ve been riding before.”

  “I have. Maybe it’s been even longer than I realized, but…I’m good with the horses.”

  He leaned in close enough that he could smell her shampoo beneath the sweet, earthy scent of hay. “Then what’s the problem? You looked upset.”

  She sighed. “I was just analyzing all the things that could go wrong on a trail ride like this! Bad habit, I know. But do you have any idea the kind of liability—”

  He laughed then, barely resisting the urge kiss her. So she was worried not as an equestrienne, but as an actuary? “Everyone’s signed their waivers, darlin’. And we’ll be careful, I promise.”

  On the hour long drive to the ranch, she’d explained to him in detail what she did for a living. Still don’t get it. But he understood the gist, which was good enough. Especially since she was leaving in the next couple of days. It wasn’t as if there were going to be a pop quiz.

  Now, if he had to pass a test on the exact shade of Lorelei’s eyes or the gamut of sounds she made as she approached an orgasm, he knew he could ace it.

  He gave himself a mental shake. A distracted trail boss was no way to prevent those accidents she feared.

  The ranch and horses were owned by a family who’d hired Sam for a variety of odd jobs in the past. The family’s patriarch was approaching seventy now and no longer did the overnight trips. His son headed them up frequently but a couple of years ago, when his wife had been going through a difficult pregnancy, he’d entrusted a group to Sam. Since then, Sam did several a year so that the man wouldn’t have to be away from his spouse and two young children so often.

  “I know it’s just for the night, but you’ll understand when you have kids of your own. At this age, it’s too easy to miss a first smile, first word, first step.”

  All milestones Sam had no intention of ever experiencing, but he hadn’t wanted to sound like a child-hating cynic. The truth w
as, he was fond of kids. In the generic sense. Some of the trail rides he worked were specifically geared toward young riders—just not this one, with its spooky stories this evening and bat expedition. This ride was only for eighteen and up, but he couldn’t help grinning inwardly at how panicked Lorelei would be if children, with all the potential mishaps they could cause, were added to the mix.

  Kids were fun. As long as he didn’t have to parent them. He wasn’t sure any of the male role models in his life had been helpful. There was his biological father who’d worked himself into an early grave; Lorelei’s father had also died young, but at least he hadn’t ignored his only child her entire life. And his stepfather was a shallow, superficial man who cared more about appearances than family bonds. Even JD was a questionable influence. The womanizing bachelor had only had relationships that lasted from Friday night until Monday morning.

  If Sam had seen more evidence of how to make a relationship work, how to balance the responsibility of providing with the joys of being together, would he be less wary of relationships now? Would he be able to let himself fall in love?

  His gaze skittered back to Lorelei and he rubbed his chest. Something that felt like heartburn hampered his breathing for a second, but then he walked away from her, telling himself he had a job to do. The eleven tourists gathered needed to get acquainted with their mounts. Standing here and playing what-if wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

  BY FOUR O’CLOCK THAT afternoon, Lorelei was really having to bite her tongue to keep from whining, “Are we there yet?”

  No one else was complaining. Then again, she was probably the only person who’d spent the thirty-six hours prior to climbing into the saddle having energetic sex. There had been a brief period this afternoon when she’d been only pleasantly sore. The rolling gait of the horse beneath her had simply made her aware of the places she still tingled from Sam’s touch.

  But now there was no “pleasantly” about it. Ow, dammit. All she wanted was to throw herself from the mare’s back, catch a cab—which seemed unlikely out here in the middle of nowhere—and get back to the inn, where she could soak in the tub with some mineral salts for her sore muscles. She didn’t even care if Oberon came into the bathroom to keep her company. Hell, he could swim around in the tub as long as he left her alone to whimper in peace.

  When Sam announced that they’d reached the spot where they’d be making camp for the evening, she could have kissed him. Except, probably not, because that proved to lead to other things and her body ached far too much to even contemplate that.

  People began dismounting. The chuckwagon cook and the rider Sam was training to be an eventual trail boss himself were helping to secure the horses.

  Sam came over to assist Lorelei. As much as she’d been looking forward to getting down off her horse, she found that she had to do so very gingerly.

  “You okay?” To his credit, Sam tried to sound and look concerned. But other emotions were seeping into his expression—knowing amusement and sizzling desire, as he obviously recalled how she’d come to be sore in the first place and how much he’d like to do that again.

  “Not gonna happen,” she growled.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said innocently. Then he gave her an evil grin. “’Course, if what you meant was that I have to keep my hands to myself, it’s only fair to let you know that I have some really great cream to rub on sore muscles. And I had planned to offer to massage it in personally.”

  “You’re supposed to be solicitous of the riders under your care, not looking for ways to get them out of their jeans,” she scolded. “Are all trail bosses this one-track-minded?”

  “When they have a woman who looks like you to share their tent? Absolutely.”

  Despite pretending to be appalled by his ulterior motives, she had to admit his desire wasn’t one-sided. Seeing Sam out here, clearly in his element, was incredibly sexy. All through the day, he’d shared historical anecdotes, such as the Texas “camel experiment” in the mid-1800s and the Mason County Hoodoo War. If their trivia game the other night had included any questions about Texas government, the Civil War, Native American tribes from this region, livestock or weather phenomena, Sam would have cleaned house. He had an easy confidence in the saddle and seemed to truly love the land he was showing them.

  And Ava had been right. He was definitely a natural-born storyteller. He’d led them through a narrow pass earlier that day and told them in quiet, somber tones that had somehow carried down the line of riders that the area was reputed to be haunted by a brokenhearted woman who’d been betrayed by her family.

  “She fell in love with a Chanas brave and planned to sneak away from her family in the night to join his nomadic tribe. But her brother caught her and her father, in a rage, shoved her from that peak, declaring that he’d rather see his daughter dead than turn her back on who she was. It’s said that when her father realized what he’d done, he shot himself and that both her uneasy spirit and his remain here, never able to find peace with each other. Their ongoing anger is the explanation for many strange happenings.”

  With Sam as their leader, Lorelei didn’t think twice about what kind of bugs might be buzzing about their tents tonight or the seasonal allergies that sometimes plagued her when the weather turned warm. He was mesmerizing.

  The group was instructed to set up tents while it was still plenty bright outside. Then they were going to take two hiking excursions while the camp cook fixed dinner—the first to a nearby natural cavern, the second to see a bat colony.

  “It’s still a bit early in the year, but they do start returning to the area in March,” Sam told them. “So cross your fingers.”

  He took time assisting everyone, checking the horses’ shoes with a middle-aged man who was a Houston stockbroker in his real life “but always wanted to be a cowboy.” Then he helped a woman taking this family trip with her two college-age daughters pitch their tent. A man and wife in their early sixties were obviously veteran campers; the couple didn’t need technical support so much as they needed a good-natured referee for their squabbling. Otherwise, they’d never finish setting up before dark. Finally, Sam came over to inspect the job Lorelei was doing.

  “Tent looks good, Ms. Keller. Nice job,” he praised. “Which is important. Because it would be such a shame if this collapsed in the middle of the night and you had to bunk with someone else.” The look he gave her tent left her half alarmed that he planned to sabotage the stakes as soon as her back was turned.

  “A male someone,” he added. “You know, to protect you from beasties. Wolves, javelinas. The occasional El Chupacabra.”

  “Bunk with a man? What kind of example would that set for those college girls?” she chided lightly. How far into the night would it be before she caved to the temptation of snuggling into Sam’s sleeping bag with him?

  “Right, because being college girls, they’ve probably never heard about sex,” he scoffed.

  “Well, they didn’t hear about it from me.”

  He laughed. “Such a virtuous and pure-hearted woman. Must be why I love you.”

  Lorelei was highly intelligent; she knew he was kidding and meant nothing by the words, knew it straight to her core. Yet she couldn’t prevent the way she trembled inside at the declaration. Why I love you…

  Worse than her involuntary emotional response, he saw her react, if only for a millisecond. Sam’s playful mien froze in place like a mask, a caricature of itself.

  Oh, please don’t. She braced herself for his stilted apology, his polite explanation that he’d only been kidding. That would be too humiliating to endure—not only a rejection, but also his thinking she was so unreasonably deluded she might actually be seeking more from him. If nothing else, she hoped he respected her intellect more than that. She was smart enough to embrace the truth: it would be a monume
ntal mistake to fall for Sam Travis.

  That just hadn’t stopped her from doing it.

  ONCE AGAIN, LORELEI was the outsider. And that campfire revelation stung so badly that she realized she was no longer accustomed to this feeling, could no longer shrug it off. Sometime during her stay in Fredericksburg, she’d started to feel as if she belonged.

  Wish I were back in town now.

  Around her, the tourists fell into two groups. Those who lounged in that particular boneless lassitude stemming from any active day in the open air, and those who were literally on the edge of their seats—in this case, portable foam mats—tense with expectation as Sam wove another tale. His narratives tonight had begun with a mix of supernatural ghost stories alongside explanations of natural marvels, including a mass of granite that had once terrified superstitious settlers because of the noises it made when the granite contracted in the cool night air and the blue sparks it could generate. As the sun had dipped lower on the horizon and stars began to twinkle overhead, he also pointed out some constellations and threw in some Greek myths for his captive audience.

  Lorelei, however, was neither relaxed nor able to lose herself in Sam’s baritone. She was seething.

  Ever since that awkward moment this afternoon, Sam had been growing more aloof with her. When they’d hiked to a cave after camp was set up, she’d stopped at one point to take in the breathtaking view and Sam had come after her to make sure she wasn’t injured or too tired to keep going. She’d reflexively reached for his hand as she told him how beautiful it was here, and he’d stiffened.

  “We’re holding up the group. We should move on,” he’d chastised her mildly. Though his tone hadn’t been harsh, it had been far from tender.

  He’d been subtly pushing her away for hours now. Apparently, his slip of the tongue had been enough of a reminder for him that this—that she—wasn’t what he wanted in the long run. Did he think it was kinder this way, to withdraw so that she got angry or that her ego was stung enough she no longer wanted to be with him? Maybe he thought it saved them from a messy goodbye, but all it was doing so far was ticking her off. They were both adults and they’d had an agreement going into this weekend. She would have honored his feelings; there was no need to act like a boyfriend who’d lost interest and was trying to give her the brush-off.