His Favorite Cowgirl (Glades County Cowboys Book 2)

by Leigh Duncan

  “I love you,” he whispered. His finger under her chin, he tilted her face to his. “Always have. Always will.”

  When she trembled, he leaned closer, ever closer, until his lips met hers. He traced his thumb along her cheek, stroking the soft skin of the only woman who’d ever truly owned his heart.

  “I’m sorry, Kelly,” he murmured. “I gave up too easily once. I won’t ever make the same mistake again. Can you forgive me?”

  “Only if you forgive me,” she whispered in return.

  He moved his lips over hers. He was certain he was the least deserving man in the world. Despite that, she opened to him. Tentatively, the tip of her tongue met his, but one soft caress was all it took to make her sigh into the kiss. His lips fused to hers. He possessed her mouth completely while heat pooled below his waist. When she buried her fingers in his hair, he wanted her more than he’d ever dreamed possible.

  Her hands cupped his head, drawing him lower with an insistence he couldn’t deny. His fingers shook as he slipped her top buttons free. Pushing aside the rough fabric of her shirt, he trailed kisses across the top of her lacy bra. She moaned his name, igniting flames he wasn’t sure he could control.

  With a dull thud, a log collapsed in the fire. Sparks shot into the air before slowly drifting back to earth. From a distance, he heard the voices of cowhands keeping watch over the herd.

  Hank groaned. He and Kelly weren’t randy teenagers. There’d be no slipping off to his tent and making love on a cot. He wanted their next first time, when it happened, to be special. Though it took every ounce of control he had and then some, he kissed his way back to her lips. An unsteady breath escaped as he broke away, while still holding her close.

  “There’s nothing I want more in this world right now than for you and me to slip off somewhere. I want to spend the whole night showing you how much I love you.”

  “But we can’t.”

  Kelly’s voice shook with the same disappointment he felt.

  “We’re not kids anymore,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “Rain check?” He pressed another kiss on her forehead. “Noelle’s got that sleepover coming up. What say we go away together, just the two of us?”

  His fervor took a hit when Kelly went completely still in his arms. “I won’t be here,” she murmured. “By then, I’ll be in Houston.”

  The reminder dimmed the image he’d built of coming home to the front porch of a ranch house where Kelly and Noelle waited for him. His heart sank. Had he and Kelly missed their chance at happiness? He felt the flutter of her heartbeat beneath her ribs, heard her soft sighs. He wanted this forever. Whatever it took, he was willing to make it happen.

  “Don’t worry,” he breathed into her hair. “We’ll make it work. Long-distance relationships suck, but we’ll find a way. If I have to, I’ll move to Texas.”

  He blinked. As long as he was starting over anyway, why not do it in Houston? He might not have the same connections, and it might take longer to save for the ranch he’d dreamed of owning in Glades County, but Kelly was worth it. He wanted the next fifty years with her. Wanted the nights of long, slow love. Wanted Noelle’s barrel racing trophies to line the walls of her bedroom down the hall from theirs. And, if they were lucky, they’d turn a spare room into a nursery. In their nineties, he’d hold Kelly’s hand on that same front porch as they watched dust rise behind cars loaded with grandchildren or great-grandchildren coming to visit the ranch, coming home.

  “We’ll make it happen.” He kissed the top of her head. “Whatever it takes.”

  * * *

  STOPPING TO PULL a mouthful of grass here, investigate a palm frond there, heavy gray cattle plodded into Kelly’s view. Outriders followed behind, their ropes and, in some cases, hats swinging. As the cattle passed, the dust began to settle, and Kelly lowered the bandanna she’d tied over her nose and mouth. Weight slipped from her shoulders like a heavy winter coat.

  “Is that the last of ’em?” She looked for the Circle P ranch hand who’d drawn the short straw and brought up the rear of the cattle drive.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Javier swung his hat. “Get on, now,” called the swarthy young man. He urged a curious calf away from a patch of wildflowers and onto Barlowe land.

  Kelly glanced at the clicker she’d thumbed as every gray head crossed the fence line. “I counted one thousand five. Give that number to Mr. Hank.”

  At the pens, Tom Hastings, the new owner of the Barlowe ranch, stood opposite Hank, one counting cattle as they went in, the other as they emerged. If the numbers didn’t match, hers would serve as the tiebreaker.

  “You aren’t comin’, ma’am?” Javier reined his sturdy little quarter horse to a halt.

  “I’ll be along in a few minutes.” Kelly blotted sweat and dirt from her forehead. “Thought I’d enjoy the view for a bit.”

  “It’s just grass and scrub, ma’am.” The boy spurred his horse toward the cows, which had moved on without him.

  Just grass and scrub. And yet, the vast stretches of unbroken land held a special beauty. Just after dawn, she’d spotted a sleek panther on his way home from a night on the prowl. Even now, wildflowers added splashes of color to a grassy green palate. A rabbit streaked from one palmetto bush to another, while a hawk soared against puffy white clouds.

  Her heart clenched. After she left this time, things would never be the same. She’d never sleep in her grandfather’s house again. Never carry her coffee out to the porch to watch the deer parade past the salt lick in the mornings. Never wander into the barn to curry the horses after a long ride.

  Once she had collected a check for the cattle, her job on the Bar X would be done. The therapists at the rehab center would work with her grandfather, helping him regain as much mobility as possible. The nursing home where he’d live out the remainder of his days already had a bed on hold for him. The next week, Hank’s client would fly in to see the ranch. Once it sold, people would forget the long feud between the Parkers and the Tompkinses. If she returned, it would be as a guest on one of Ty’s trail rides. Which wasn’t the same thing as owning land that stretched out forever beneath the clear skies. Not the same thing at all.

  Wiping her cheeks, she closed the gate behind her as she rode onto Barlowe property.

  She hadn’t gone very far when her cell phone’s insistent pinging signaled a return to civilization. She scrambled for the holder at her waist. Her vision swam when a dozen missed calls from the same number appeared on the screen. She thumbed the button and braced for bad news.

  “Y-yes,” she managed.

  “Ms. Tompkins, I’m so sorry.” Her grandfather’s nurse didn’t bother easing into the truth. “Your grandfather passed during the night.”

  “What happened?” Kelly asked.

  “Another stroke? His heart? No one can say for sure. He was sleeping peacefully when the staff did rounds at midnight. But when we checked on him this morning...”

  “I understand.” Gone. In his sleep. She registered the words. “What happens next?”

  She cast a glance at the trail of hoof prints that led back to the Bar X. It’d take the better part of a day to cover the thirty miles to the house on horseback. Could she get a ride from someone on the Barlowe ranch? What should she do about the...

  The nurse’s voice brought order to chaos.

  “There’s no need to do anything right now. He didn’t have much with him, but I’ll box his things and keep them in the office until you can get them. We’ll have one of the local mortuaries pick up the remains. Do you have a preference?”

  She recalled the name of the funeral home they’d used for her grandmother. “Buxton’s, I guess.”

  “We’ve worked with them before. They’ll do right by Mr. Tompkins. I’ll tell them you’ll be stopping by in the morning to make the final arrangements.”

>   “Yes. Thank you.”

  The details handled, the nurse murmured a final, sympathetic remark before she hung up. Kelly stroked Lady’s mane while green grass and blue sky shimmered through her tears.

  The cell phone pinged again. Certain the nurse had forgotten to deliver some important detail, Kelly swiped a finger across the screen.

  “It’s about time you answered. I’ve been trying to reach you for three days.”

  In sharp contrast to the nurse’s soft voice, Randall Palmetto’s abrupt tone filled her ear. Numb with loss, Kelly hunched over her horse. She’d grown accustomed to the quiet sounds of everyday life in the country, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she held the cell phone away from her ear. She scrolled through her missed calls without finding a single 713 area code. How had Randall tried to contact her? By carrier pigeon?

  “What do you need?” she asked.

  “It’s the Ivey’s account. They’ve moved up the timetable. They want their first delivery in thirty days. We need you here, Kelly. Pronto.”

  “I—I...” She bit back a sob. “I don’t know when I can make it. My grandfather passed away last night.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” The man, who had often claimed family came first at Palmetto Boots, did not miss a beat. “Look, getting back to work will be the best thing for you. Can you be in the office tomorrow?”

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open. Her jaw worked, but no words came out. She gathered the shreds of composure around her like a shawl and tried again. “I need a week to plan the memorial service and tidy his affairs.”

  If the long, empty pause wasn’t enough of a clue, Randall’s ominous throat-clearing certainly conveyed his displeasure.

  “We can’t wait that long. We need someone to step up to the plate today. Tomorrow at the latest. I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sincere. “I’m going to have to hand Ivey’s over to someone else.”

  Her account. The one that would guarantee her place in the Palmetto family. The one she’d spent six intense months negotiating. The one that was supposed to provide the security she’d been searching for her whole life.

  That account?

  Her jaw tightened as she pulled herself upright. Stretched in front of her was all the security she’d ever need. The man she wanted to spend forever with was waiting for her on the Barlowe ranch. She loved Noelle like the daughter she’d never had. They could be her family, her real family. All she had to do was say the word.

  Was she certain? She and Hank had spent the night talking, making plans for the future. A future her job in Houston would only complicate. She hadn’t wanted to give it up then, but now, hearing the censure in Randall’s voice, she knew she was making the right choice.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said calmly. She tapped a nail in the coffin of her career at Palmetto Boots. “You’ll have my resignation on your desk by the end of the week.”

  Randall’s bluster told her he hadn’t expected her reaction, but Kelly refused to let his protests change her mind. She ended the call. When the same number appeared on her screen seconds later, she blocked it. She reined Lady for the Barlowe ranch, and the one shoulder she could lean on.

  As she rode into the yard, an eager young cowboy ran forward. She dug a present for Noelle from her saddle bag and turned the horse over to the hand, who would load Lady into one of the horse trailers for the ride home. Swiping at her tears, Kelly went looking for Hank. She found him at the cattle chute.

  He looked up from a clipboard, consternation marring the features she loved.

  “Trouble?” she asked.

  “Can’t get the numbers to—” His voice died the moment he caught sight of her. “What’s wrong?”

  “My grandfather,” Kelly managed as a fresh wave of grief broke over her. “He’s gone.”

  “C’mere.” The clipboard clattered to the ground. Without saying a word, Hank opened his arms wide.

  She stepped into his comforting embrace. Her head automatically found the soft niche under his collarbone. She snaked her hands around his neck. He held her until the first wave of grief passed. When it had, she filled him in on the scant details.

  Hank rocked back on his heels. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. We knew this day might come, but I’d hoped...” He rubbed his eyes.

  She sniffed. There were worse ways to go than dying in one’s sleep. Her grandfather could have survived for years trapped inside his damaged brain. But if he’d ever recovered enough to understand that he’d never again make it from the house to the barn without assistance, or see the world from horseback, well, she hated to think how he’d have reacted. She brushed away her tears.

  From some distance away, one of the hands called, “Mr. Hank. Ms. Kelly. Mr. Hastings is waitin’ on ya’ll.”

  “Give us a second. We’ll be right there.” Hank’s answer rose above her head. He leaned down. “You want to do this? I can take you home if you’d rather.”

  Kelly mopped her face. “I must look terrible.”

  Hank smoothed her hair. His fingers trailed across her cheeks. “You’re always beautiful to me,” he whispered. He blinked. “Does this mean you’ll be sticking around for a few days longer?”

  Kelly nodded. She took a deep breath. “Let’s keep the news about Pops between us for now. No sense ruining the party for everyone else.” As for her other news, the news about making a permanent home in Glades County, that could wait, too. At least until she figured out some way to turn the Bar X into a profitable ranch again.

  She scanned her new neighbor’s busy yard. Despite her tears, she took in the changes the owners had made to the place. Fresh white paint coated the rambling house. White-washed fences lined the graveled drive leading to the main road. The Brahmans had been let out onto a pasture so rich and green it contrasted nicely against the gray-sided cattle. Across the yard, barbecue-scented smoke rose from two portable grills. Long folding tables and dozens of chairs sat under a large tent. On the porch, a willowy woman in a denim skirt stepped to a mic as members of a country and Western band scurried about setting up equipment.

  “Test. Test,” she said.

  An ear-piercing squeal erupted. From behind a bank of audio equipment, a man made a chopping motion. He adjusted a knob, and the woman tried again with the same results.

  “Brad, you gotta fix that,” she said, her voice light and melodic. She lifted a fiddle from a nearby stand and ran the bow over the strings. The opening notes of a familiar bluegrass song rang out.

  Kelly blinked. “Hastings went all out for an end-of-the-cattle-drive party, didn’t he?” The events were common, but this one seemed a bit over-the-top.

  “I heard someone say he’d turned it into a ranch warming. I think he invited half of Glades County. There’s enough meat on those grills to feed two armies.”

  She smoothed her shirt, resettled her hat. “Could you give these to Noelle while I pay my respects to our host?” Bright pink and sparkly, the new boots would be a big hit with Hank’s daughter. “Meet up with you after?”

  “I’ll be here for you, always.” With a chaste kiss, Hank promised he was a man who had forever on his mind.

  Chapter Ten

  Hank swirled his tea. Ice cubes clinked against the glass. Doing his best not to look the part of the concerned parent, he rocked the heels of his boots against a porch that gleamed with a fresh coat of paint. In the practice ring, where missing boards had been replaced, Noelle and Lady blazed out of the starting gate. At the top of the cloverleaf, horse and rider cut the corners so close it was a wonder neither slit a leg wide open on the barrels’ rough edges.

  “Hee-yah!” His daughter’s voice broke the quiet of a Sunday afternoon at the Bar X. Noelle rounded the last barrel and streaked toward the finish line.

  “Eighteen seconds!” At the gate, Kelly held up a t
imer. “Your best yet!”

  Hank let out the breath he’d been holding. Eighteen seconds would never earn a gold buckle in Las Vegas, but it was certainly good enough to win a blue ribbon at the Junior Rodeo next weekend. He lifted his glass to the rider and her coach.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, using a phrase that had, thankfully, replaced the worn-out whatever in Noelle’s vocabulary.

  While his daughter lined up for the next run, he shifted his focus to Kelly. How long was she going to stick around? Three weeks before, she’d insisted every minute she spent at the Bar X jeopardized a big promotion. Yet a week had passed since the funeral, and his favorite cowgirl hadn’t said a word about returning to Houston.

  Not that he minded. He ran a finger around the brim of his hat. He enjoyed spending his evenings on the Bar X. While Kelly gave Noelle a riding lesson, he tackled one item after another on their repair list. Later, while his daughter tended to Lady, he and Kelly put their time alone to good use. Kissing, mostly, but there’d been some talking, too.

  Lately, though, he couldn’t deny the feeling that their time, like the chore list, had grown short. Just a little while longer. He exhaled as Lady thundered across the finish line again. A smile he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life broke across Kelly’s face.

  “Another great run,” she called. She slipped the stopwatch into her pocket. “That’s it for tonight.” She retrieved the Stetson Noelle had lost on her last ride.

  “Just one more?”

  Hank snorted. Noelle’s pleading tone was the same one he’d often used back when he ate, slept and dreamed rodeo.

  “Nope.” Kelly remained stronger than he would have. She handed Noelle the hat. “There are horses to tend to and stalls to muck, and you have a big day at school tomorrow. Didn’t I hear something about a math test?”

  Hank managed to hide a grin when Noelle dismounted, grumbling. Her heart wasn’t in the litany of complaints, and everyone within hearing range knew it. Warmth spread across his chest as Kelly gave his daughter a few last-minute instructions. The girl loved barrel racing, but he wasn’t kidding himself. He had Kelly to thank for his daughter’s softened attitude. He shoved his hat back on his head while he considered how things might have turned out if she hadn’t been around.