A Cowboy SEAL's Bride

by Amity Lassiter

  “That doesn’t sound good, actually.”

  “Well it wasn’t bad,” he said with an insistence she didn’t quite buy.

  “But not good?”

  “Funny,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He stopped walking as Kit shoved the tennis ball into his free hand. “You’re gonna laugh.”

  Raising a brow, she turned to face him.

  “Try me.”

  “Well, I only have a lease on the ranch.”

  “What? That doesn’t sound right…”

  “I get the title transfer when I get married.”

  Miranda had a sinking suspicion where this was going, and she held her breath, hoping his next words wouldn’t be the ones she thought they were. Jack had talked often about how he hoped she and Lane could have made it work all those years ago. Most often, she gently steered him in another direction. Occasionally, she indulged that thought, but never out loud.

  “To you.”

  It took a second for her heart to start beating again. Lane rolling back into town had been a blessing in disguise for her self-esteem—he seemed to want her as badly as she’d surprised herself by wanting him, but she’d vowed not to repeat her mistakes. She just wasn’t the marrying type. Whatever it was that other women had programmed into their bodies and their minds for marrying and settling down with children hadn’t been given to her. She hadn’t been able to make Harvey happy. Lane had already dodged this bullet once.

  He reached out and touched her arm, shaking her from her thoughts.

  “I did think you’d laugh.”

  She smiled briefly, and let out a terse chuckle.

  “It is pretty funny. Jack’s a pretty good joker.”

  Except the expression on his face didn’t read like he agreed.

  “It’s funny, but it’s not. It makes sense though, doesn’t it?”

  Her freshly jump-started heart kicked out again. He didn’t think it was a bad idea. She could practically see the neon signs flashing ‘Danger, Will Robinson’.

  “Make sense? No, Lane, it doesn’t make sense. We tried once, remember?”

  “If I recall correctly, I tried. You didn’t. You didn’t want to be with me because we’d be here, in Three Rivers. Imagine my surprise when I showed up two summers later and you were engaged to Harvey, whose family practically founded the town. And then ten years later, you’re still here. And we’re still good together. Seems all we did was waste time we could have spent together, happy, doesn’t it?”

  She swallowed hard and drew in a breath, but couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. She’d been young and foolish and hadn’t considered what kind of lasting effect she might have had on him. But she hadn’t intended for things to turn out this way. They just had. And this dangerous little domestic thing they’d been playing at for the last day or so only abraded the edges of that wound she’d inflicted, stalling any healing.

  “I hurt you.”

  “If you just didn’t want to be with me, Miranda, you could have said so. But I don’t think that was really ever the case. Especially not now. I want you. And you want me. And this is a way that we can both get what we wanted. You’d be a co-owner of Lone Oak, and we’d build your camp.”

  His anger was justified, but she didn’t figure it was fair of him to dangle the carrot of her camp over her head. Not when it came at such a hefty price. Hot tears threatened to blur her vision, but she drew a breath and tipped her head back, willing them back inside.

  “So you’ll strong arm me into it?”

  “That’s not what this is.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Reason. Logic.” He paused. “Destiny.”

  She’d never taken Lane for a crunchy granola type. A romantic, maybe. But not a hippie who believed in fate and divine intervention. So the quiet, forceful way he said the last word took her by surprise. On the one hand, it was pretty incredible that he’d ended up back in Three Rivers with no attachments at the same time she was still there with no attachments. But that could have happened in any small town. They were a couple of lonely people who could scratch each other’s itch. There was no shame in that, but it certainly didn’t point to stars aligning.

  “Lane, you know I can’t marry you. Not to get a share of your land.”

  “Well Jack clearly wanted you to have it, too. He had a title transfer all drawn up with Miranda Sutton’s name on it.”

  Miranda Sutton. Not even when he’d so proudly presented her with that little diamond solitaire had she tried it out. It didn’t sound bad. She couldn’t believe she was even contemplating it. She couldn’t make him happy, not in the end, and the whole thing would be a waste of time and energy.

  “I like what we have going here, but we both know it’s not enough to build a marriage on, and it probably won’t ever be—”

  “Don’t say no yet,” he interjected. “We have time.”

  She pursed her lips, watching him for a moment. She’d already made this mistake once. Walking down the same path seemed to be self-sabotage at its finest. But then he grabbed her wrist, tugging her flush against him, and despite the turmoil in her head and her heart, her body responded. He covered her mouth with his, sliding an arm around her waist to press her closer for a long, deep kiss that seared itself right into her heart along with her indecision.

  She wanted to say yes. In that moment, every fiber of her body wanted to say yes, we’ll do this. But her head knew better. Men like Lane wanted to settle down, make babies, have the happily ever after they’d always wanted. She’d hurt him once, she’d do it again. And her body wasn’t the baby making variety. People always said they were happy not to have children, but especially in a place like Three Rivers, it was what was done. You got married and made babies. And eventually, there would be resentment. She could see the path ahead as plain as day, and it ended in heartache. For both of them.

  Finally, Miranda pressed her hand to Lane’s chest, pushing him back just a bit.

  “I need some time to think. But I think this isn’t going to work.”

  Extricating herself from his embrace, she offered him a smile, stroked Kit on the head, and turned to walk away.

  —NINE—

  “I’m sure we’ll have something soon,” Myrna Pierce said, gathering up her files from the table that separated her from Miranda. “As long as there are children, there are going to be parents who need help. In the meantime…consider it like a vacation.”

  The older woman smiled across the table at her. She was supposed to be retired, but as Miranda was discovering, the business of helping children was a hard one to walk away from. It had been something to keep her busy after her parents had passed away and left her that big house all by herself. And now it was something she thought she’d be happy doing for the rest of her life. If she couldn’t have children of her own, she could help other peoples’ children.

  “You know I’m not good at vacations.” She blew out a breath, and then offered Myrna a gentle smile. She needed something to occupy her brain, and her shifts manning the front desk at town hall three mornings a week just weren’t doing it. If she had a kid or two in her care, she appreciated the downtime. More time to spend with them, figuring out how they worked, giving them what they needed. But without, and trying to take a step back from the all-consuming fire that was Lane Sutton and his proposition, the afternoons were long and tough.

  “I know. But maybe you could try.”

  Miranda didn’t hear the bell jingle over the door to signal someone coming into Hinkley’s diner, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone who clearly wasn’t their tiny red-headed slip of a waitress suddenly appeared at their table.

  “Ladies,” Lane’s smooth voice washed over her. It had been two days since she’d left his front porch at Lone Oak feeling conflicted. If she was a lesser person, it would be easy to just take him up on his offer. But for all her shortcomings, she knew the best road here was the high road.

  Myrna smiled up at Lane as she shuffled
together the last of her papers and slid off the seat. “Lane Sutton. I heard you were back in town. I’m so sorry about your grandfather. They tell me you’re staying at the ranch now.”

  “I am. I’ve got plans to bring it back to a full working ranch. Maybe a bit smaller than the original, but functional nonetheless.”

  “Jack was so proud of you for enlisting. I want to say thank you for your service. Are you finished with the Navy now?”

  He nodded curtly—this was something they hadn’t discussed, really. She had never thought to ask why Lane was back in town apart from taking over the ranch.

  “Yes, ma’am. Looking forward to a new role as a rancher.”

  “Well, I wish you the best of luck,” Myrna replied as she rose to her feet and reached out to squeeze Lane’s arm. He may not have been a permanent resident of Three Rivers, but he was well known through town; his grandfather had been well-respected and liked in the community, and so proud of his grandson he’d trotted Lane out every time he came for the summer. “I’ll call you as soon as I get something, Miranda. You two have a good day.”

  And with that she was gone, leaving Miranda alone with Lane—not her ideal afternoon. And even less ideal when he slid into the booth across from her.

  “What brings you into town, Lane?” she asked.

  “I’m not allowed to come get lunch? I mean, I haven’t had one of your home cooked meals in three days. A man needs sustenance somehow.”

  She couldn’t help the chuckle that crossed her lips.

  “I happen to know from experience that I am not the only person within a five hundred foot radius who can cook a decent home cooked meal.”

  “I can, but do I want to?” The boyish grin on his features made her knees a little weak, against her better judgment. “Besides, I saw your Jeep out front.”

  “Of course you did.” She leaned back against the upholstered seat, crossing her arms over her midsection.

  “Do you want to join me?” he asked.

  Miranda reached out and spun her now-empty coffee cup. She usually did get a sandwich after Myrna left, but she was half scared Lane would start talking about marriage again and that would make her BLT way less enjoyable.

  “Of course you do,” he filled in, lifting a hand to flag the waitress.

  “Shouldn’t it be me asking if you want to join me? Since I was sitting here first.” But the silly grin on his features dampened her annoyance pretty quickly. Damnit. She was supposed to be mad at him but it was tough.

  “It occurs to me,” he said, ignoring her question. “That I went about this the wrong way.”

  “Lane Sutton admitting he did something wrong.” Miranda shook her head. “This is rare and special.”

  “So’s the next bit.” When she leaned back, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the countertop and steepling his fingers like he was about to make her the deal of a lifetime. “I ought to have asked you out on a date. A real one. Not bringing me dinner at my house, or sitting in my truck looking at the river—”

  “I happen to like sitting in your truck looking at the river. Well, I did ten years ago.”

  “Ten years ago you liked that, yes. But today you deserve something more.”

  “I don’t figure how you know what I deserve these days.”

  If she was honest with herself, she figured she didn’t deserve much. There had been a time when she’d thought she should have the moon, but those days were over.

  “I’ve made an educated guess.” He grinned. “So what do you say? Are you free Friday?”

  “I am.”

  “And would you spend it with me?”

  She let a slow breath out of her nose. Truth was, she’d been enjoying spending time with him more than she’d readily admit. It gave her the same kind of feeling of purpose and ease that working with the kids Myrna sent her did. She’d tried to steer clear for a couple of days, but just sitting across from him now, even though she knew what he still had processing in the back of his mind, was comforting. She didn’t want to resist anymore.

  “Yes.”

  —TEN—

  Lane pulled into Miranda’s driveway exactly on time. Punctuality was another thing the military had hardwired into him—this habit he didn’t mind. Jack had spent fifteen summers trying to hammer it into him without any success. Now he was a man who would make his granddad proud. He shut off the truck and went to her door.

  He stopped up short when Miranda met him there. She looked good all the time, but this was different. Maybe it was because he knew she’d done it for him, maybe it was just because he was seeing her in a new light again after all this time. A pair of dark washed jeans hugged her long legs, and she wore a lacy white tank top cut just deep enough to show some of her luscious cleavage and the dusting of freckles across her collarbone. Her fiery hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves he just wanted to sink his fingers into. If he didn’t focus, they’d never make it out of here.

  “You’re on time.” When she flashed him a bright smile, it took him a minute to find words.

  “What kind of a man would keep a woman like you waiting?”

  She ducked her head, and he thought he might have seen her cheeks flush—just a bit.

  “Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and he guided her down the front steps toward his truck.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see. I’m glad you wore jeans, though,” he said, noting she was also wearing her trusty Justin cowboy boots—judging by the wear and dust, they were the same ones she’d worn as a teenager.

  “Ooh…mysterious.”

  “No, just…trapped in a small town. Date options are limited. And I figured since we already ate at Hinkley’s once this week…” he shrugged, opening the passenger door of the truck for her and helping her inside. He’d left Kit at home, so there was no risk the two females in his life would have to jockey for the prime position—and so when the time was right, he could slide Miranda right over into the girlfriend seat and lay one on her.

  Lane crossed behind the truck to make sure his cooler was still secure in the bed, and then climbed in. It wasn’t a long drive to the Baylor ranch—nothing in Three Rivers was very far from anything else. When they pulled in the drive, Miranda cast a raised eyebrow at him, but kept quiet until they pulled up in front of the little cabin Finn Baylor and his wife and daughter lived in. The middle brother of the prominent ranching family stepped out onto the covered porch and lifted his hand in greeting. Lane returned the gesture, killing the engine and hopping out to cross in front of the truck and let Miranda out the other side.

  “Miranda Davenport, I had no idea you were the lucky lady,” Finn said, teasingly. Miranda and Lane had known Finn and his brothers their whole lives, as one did in Three Rivers. When he’d stopped by earlier this week, Finn had disclosed that the daughter he and his wife adopted had been one of Miranda’s long term foster children—they still saw Miranda on a regular basis, and included her in Tessa’s day to day activities as often as possible. “Hell, I barely knew Lane was in town until he showed up looking to buy some horses.”

  “Horses, eh?” Miranda asked, turning her sharp eye back to Lane. He held up his hands innocently.

  “Gotta make a ranch out of that place somehow,” Finn supplied. “Anyway, they’re in the barn all saddled up, come on.”

  Lane grabbed his cooler with one hand and Miranda’s fingers with the other, following Finn toward the barn. He half expected her to pull her hand away, but instead she gave him a squeeze, and when he glanced over, she was beaming. In the barn, Finn had tacked up a pair of sorrel geldings, and they each stood tied against a long wall with their saddles on and bridles hanging off the saddle horns waiting to be put on. Lane had put both through their paces the day before when he’d come to look at them. It had been a long time since he’d been on a horse, and he was paying for it in stiffness today, but the look on Miranda�
��s face was worth it.

  “So this is Gunner,” Lane pointed to the one with the big blaze and three white feet, then to the solid one with no markings at all. “And Shorty.”

  “And you bought them?” Miranda asked.

  “Well, today will be the deciding factor,” Finn chimed in. “He tried them out yesterday but he said he’d have to see if you approved. I’ll leave you to it.”

  Lane shot Finn a look as he left—so maybe he’d played up his certainty in his future with Miranda a little more strongly than he actually believed in it. But hell, if he didn’t have the ranch—and her—he had nothing. Convenient that the two came together.

  He watched as Miranda approached each gelding, sliding her fingers over their necks and speaking softly to them. She glanced back at him with a child-like wonder in her eyes. Clearly, he’d made a good decision.

  “You’re buying horses.”

  “Like Finn said, gotta have stock to make it a ranch. Figured I’d start here. Andersons are next. For cattle.” He smiled at her, then emptied his cooler into the saddlebags Finn had equipped Shorty with.

  She watched him with interest.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been on a horse?”

  “Probably around as long as it’s been since I have. I have the sore muscles from yesterday to prove it.”

  “This is an excellent date idea,” she said, nodding decisively. “Which one am I riding?”

  “Gunner…he doesn’t live up to his name. He’s smooth as silk, and gentle.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “Not a blessed thing.”

  ~

  It took a couple miles, but Miranda’s body eventually got accustomed to the movement of the horse underneath her. She’d spent the last few years on the rails watching the kids she brought to Finn take riding lessons, but she’d always loved to ride as a kid. Until Jack had found himself unable to care for his own horses alone, she’d lived vicariously through the broodmares he kept, but even that had been a couple of years. Her parents had left her a few acres—enough for a horse—but living alone, she felt uncomfortable with the setup. She drew a deep breath of the fresh forest air, and then looked over at her companion. He was watching her with those light, expressive eyes, and a little smile playing over his features.