Always a Cowboy (11 page)

“Oh, come on, he didn't say that. You're making it up. I think you're all teasing me by inventing Red-speak.”

Drake looked boyishly unrepentant. “Okay, yeah, I did make that up. But doesn't it sound like something he'd say? What he did say is that the weather's going to turn. That man should've been a meteorologist. He's right. You can count on it.” He gestured toward the porch steps. “I know you've walked your share today, but shall we?”

It really was another lovely evening, and for once the incessant wind wasn't blowing. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. “Thank you. I need to walk off dinner, anyway. If you think Red should've been a meteorologist, I think Harry should be a chef somewhere in Paris, basking in her four-star rating. The chicken was superb.”

“Not gonna argue with that one.” He followed her down the steps and walked beside her, slowing his pace to match hers. “How's the research paper coming?”

Nice of him to ask, especially since he hadn't wanted anything to do with it in the first place. “I'm still making notes,” she told him. “I have pictures and videos of the horses, and I know this is a sore subject, but thanks to your descriptions, I've identified the mares that were yours and belong to the herd now. So to sum up, it's coming along nicely.”

“Glad to be of help,” he said sarcastically.

“I'm not trying to rub salt in a wound, I swear it.”

“I believe you.” He had his hands in his pockets and his expression was reflective. “I also believe that life involves weighing decisions, and figuring out if they're good or bad. I realize some people don't bother with that—they see only one approach, which is usually whatever they've already decided. I have to consider every situation from as many angles as possible.” He shrugged. “All I can do is my best. The reality is that these wild horses are a problem for someone in my position.”

“I know. I owe you an apology, or perhaps a couple of them. I'm too focused at times. I admit that.”

“Darlin', if you think I haven't noticed that you're too focused at
all
times, you're mistaken. In my defense, this is my life and this is who I am. I can't change that.”

Truer words were never spoken. He was
him
. Drake Carson.

“Why would you want to?” She meant it. “We don't understand each other all that well, but I wouldn't want you to change. And I wouldn't try to change you.”

His response was unexpected—a low groan. “Don't do that.”

“Don't do what? Give you a compliment?”

“No. But my mother always told me never to get involved with a woman who wanted to change me. It's a life lecture she gives all her sons. She likes you already, so I'll keep that information to myself.”

She liked Blythe, as well. “
Are
we involved?”

Maybe she'd just said the wrong thing.

“You tell me.”

She winged it. “Yeah, it might be leaning that way. Like a knotty pine on a windy slope.”

“Not bad, but my try at Red-speak was better.”

This time she really did give him a playful punch in the gut. It was flat and well muscled, which didn't surprise her because she'd seen him stripped to the waist. “Quit that, or I'll beat you up,” she said.

“Think you can take me?”

Maybe she was falling in love with him because of his smile. He didn't show it often, but when he did, it was memorable.

“Oh, come on. My saying was a good effort, right?”

“It was too poetic. It should be more like ‘Does manure fall in a horse stall?'”

“Well, I'll take that advice.”

Then he kissed her for the third time. Best one yet. They were in each other's arms, and Luce knew this was exactly what Blythe had intended, and yet it was hard to resent when it turned out so well. There was a lowering dusk and privacy, and Drake's body against hers...

He lifted his head. “I forgot to check.”

Luce had to admit she was dazed from that kiss. “Check?”

“For cameras.” He scouted theatrically around. “I don't see any, but that means nothing. I'm not Showbiz with his diabolical staff, planting surveillance equipment everywhere, so I don't get how they think. Who knows where they might've put one? Under a bale of hay? Strapped to the belly of a horse? It's possible.”

One of the things she liked most about him—aside from that smile—was that he had a dry sense of humor. Grace had told her he was one of the funniest people she'd ever met, and Luce could see why. “You're being paranoid,” she told him, hiding her own smile.

“Damn straight I am. After what happened last time, shouldn't I be?”

“No one will know who we are.”

“Really? Is that why everyone around here is calling me Romeo? But that's not even my point. It was supposed to be just you and me. First kiss. Alone.”

He certainly didn't have to take Romance 101. He got an A—due to his natural talent, she supposed. “A kiss is more than just a kiss?”

“Wasn't it? To you?”

“It was.” Luce took a breath. “Do you even have to ask me that?”

“No.” He let her go and walked about five feet away. “I didn't see this particular storm on the horizon, that's all.”

“I'm a storm? Isn't
that
too poetic?”

“Kind of.” He swung around. “I'm afraid if I kiss you again, we're going to end up on some horizontal surface, comfortable or not.”

“And since neither of us do casual—”

“And you live in California,” he interrupted, but he reached for her again and pulled her against him, their mouths no more than an inch apart.

Who knew what might have happened next if Ryder hadn't come down the path to the stables just then, carrying a small sack of apples. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them in an embrace. “Oh, uh, s-sorry,” he stammered, looking embarrassed. “I was going to give these to the horses...”

Drake didn't miss a beat. As he released her, he said in an easy tone, “I was about to check on them, so that works. Let's go do it. Luce?”

“I'll wait here and admire the view.” Luce chose to not join them, but she stood on the path, gazing up at the starlit sky.

“Sure. I'll see you in a few minutes.”

After they'd walked away, she whispered out loud, “Well,
now
what do I do?”

The stars didn't answer but twinkled cheerfully back. Even Venus, hanging low on the horizon, just smiled serenely.

CHAPTER TEN

T
HE
STARS
WERE
not on his side.

Not that he was a big believer in the zodiac or in horoscopes, but he could tell he wasn't going to win anytime soon. Unless you counted one very intent graduate student and a slew of horses he'd never wanted in the first place, he was on his own. So Drake was resigned to navigating this love business without any other guidance.

Oh, his mother and Harry would be glad to chime in, but he had a feeling he knew what their advice would be.

Get together with the pretty girl and settle down. Have babies.

Ryder wasn't helpful. “She's really cool.”

“Luce?” He fed Trader—an aging gray gelding who was extremely picky about letting anyone come close to him—an apple. “I think so,” he said slowly.

“Kinda noticed that.” The kid was too grown-up for his age, but at the same time, refreshingly honest. His expression was sheepish. “Sorry I showed up right then.”

“Don't worry about it.” That had probably been for the best, anyway. Although privacy seemed to be in short supply these days... Still, despite that, he wouldn't have traded where he lived for anywhere else in the world.

“What she's doing is pretty interesting.” Ryder handed an apple to one of the mares. He was a natural with the horses, which had surprised everyone, since he was a city kid who'd been transplanted from Seattle to Mustang Creek.

“
She's
interesting, for sure.”

“What's going to happen with the wild horses?”

Oh, great. All he needed was another bleeding heart on Luce's side. “I have to run a ranch. They can't stay here.”

“You aren't going to shoot them!”

“Jeez, Ryder, you know me better than that. Do I seem like someone who'd shoot them?”

“Okay, no. Sorry. But we already have horses. Can't we keep those other ones, too? The wild horses?”

He checked the water in one of the stalls. “The size of that herd has doubled since they decided to take up residence. A few of them isn't a problem, but a lot of them really is. Where would you suggest we keep them? We need the grazing land for the cattle. Our horses are useful. The wild ones aren't, and they impact the ecological balance. And let's not even talk about our missing mares. I've lost stock and I've spent time and money repairing fences. They're an expensive nuisance—especially that damned stallion.”

Ryder frowned. “Guess I hadn't looked at it that way.”

“I have.” Luce was standing in the stable doorway of the stable, her arms crossed. He couldn't help noticing that the light caught her hair.

He handed over the last apple, patted the neck of the horse munching away and turned to face her. “But your whole purpose is to study them—and protect them, right? Not to interfere with the herd.”

“At the beginning. Now I see the whole situation with...more complexity.” Her voice was soft and her eyes looked like shimmering gold.

Had he really just thought “shimmering gold”? He was an idiot.

He weighed every response he could make that might reverse the idiot progression, but he couldn't find one.

Fortunately, Ryder spoke up. “This place kind of grows on you. I didn't want to come here at all when Grace told me where we were going, but now I like it.”
Way to go. Good sell.

The only question was how she'd respond. “I like it, too.”

Nothing definitive there, but he'd take it. Drake muttered, “Then stick around.”

Why'd he say that? He had no idea. When she'd arrived, he'd wanted nothing more than for her to leave pronto.

She quickly caught on. “Is that an open invitation?”

Ryder started to get the gist of their conversation. He hurried toward the stable door. “Uh, I've got some homework to do.”

They both watched him scoot outside.

“He just ditched us for homework. That's a powerful rejection of our company right there.” Drake put the bucket away and washed his hands in the big metal utility sink.

“He's a nice young man.”

“Thanks to Grace. And Slate, too. I sometimes forget he isn't actually their kid. Ryder might've gotten into real trouble if both of them hadn't stepped in. When Showbiz first asked me if the kid could work here, I was skeptical. However, I will say, if you work with Red, you
work
. He doesn't tolerate anything but the best you can give. Ryder stepped up.”

“Good for him. And good for you.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“Drake, yes, you did. Grace told me you helped out so much with Ryder she can't thank you enough.”

Sure, he had empathy for kids trying to find their way. Who didn't? “It isn't easy being a teenage boy,” he said. “Your body changes, more and more people expect you to take care of yourself, to act responsible. You start to look at girls in a whole new light. I believe I was looking at you like that when he walked in on us.” He needed to clarify something. “Feel free to weigh in, but I don't think our agreement to stay detached is working out.”

“Not so much,” Luce agreed. Then she added in an offhand tone, “Oh, I'm camping up on the ridge tomorrow night.”

Like hell.

He stared at her. “Didn't we recently have this conversation? No, you aren't.”

“I'm not doing this project on a sort-of basis. I have to observe the horses at night.”

“You do know you're trying my patience.”

“No, I'm objecting to your assumption that you have the right to tell me what to do. Not the same thing.”

“Luce.”

“I have it on excellent authority that I'm not the mainstay of a mountain lion's diet. Wait, that would be yours. The authority, I mean.”

“I'll join you.”

“On the ridge? Oh,
that's
a good idea.”

“You aren't staying up there alone.” He paused, then said recklessly, “We can share a tent, tell campfire stories, roast marshmallows, stuff like that.”

At least he'd made her smile. “Yeah, I'm sure that's precisely what we'd be doing.”

“Remember, the weather's supposed to get nasty. We might have to stay in the tent.”

She tilted her head, all that fabulous hair brushing her shoulders. “That's what you're going for, isn't it, cowboy? Same tent?”

“Same sleeping bag, something like that.”

“I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?”

She had that right. He offered her another option. “You could abandon the whole idea and sleep alone in a nice, safe, dry house. Or you can share a tent with me.”

“I've camped alone before, and a little rain won't hurt me, and—”

Drake cut her off. “I think we have a date. Now, let me walk you back to the house, and then I need to close the front gate. After that, I'm going straight to bed. It's been a long day.”

* * *

L
UCE
SET
ASIDE
her almost-empty cup of hot chocolate, hoping that the splash of peppermint liqueur Harry had dashed in with a sly wink would help her sleep. Her secret recipe, the older woman had confided, guaranteed to cure whatever ailed you.

Somehow, Luce thought a cup of heavenly chocolate might not do the trick for her particular affliction.

What she needed was good old-fashioned therapy in the form of girl talk.

There was only one thing to do—call Beth Madison, her older sister and best friend.

After only one ring, she got an answer. “
Mi chica!
What, you psychic? I was just thinking about you. How's life out there in the Wild West? Please tell me they have indoor plumbing.”

Considering that she was sitting at a polished mahogany desk in a guest room that could vie with a suite in the most elegant hotel... She glanced around at the silk bedspread and pillows, reading lamp and chair, wall-mounted television with about a million channels, plus a private bathroom. “Yes,” she said drily. “They do, believe it or not.”

“That's good news. I'm relieved. Men can pee in the woods and all, but for us it's a dicier proposition.”

Luce was already laughing, which wasn't unusual after about two seconds on the phone with her older sister. “I often spend all day outside. You get used to the lack of facilities. What are you doing? It's not too late to call, is it?”

“I'm doing yoga. I need some form of relaxation after the diaper I just changed. Who knew a six-month-old could wipe out a whole outfit and his crib sheet in one fell swoop? Or do I mean poop? I won't go into the dreadful details, but a bath was involved. Is it too early for potty training?”

“Six months is probably pushing it, but I'm not an expert. My impression is that they have to be able to walk and maybe even talk.” Luce laughed again, knowing that Beth adored her son, born after years of trying. “Have you decided whether you're going back to work?”

“Greg and I talked it over, and after several different versions of what added up to basically the same conversation, I'm going to work part-time from home. I'm on the computer all day, anyway. Who cares if I'm sitting in my sweatpants—I still need to lose about ten pounds—at home, or in an office. I think it'll work for all of us if I cut back a little, since it means I can stay home with Ian.”

“Makes sense to me. Day care is good, but Mom is better, right?”

“That's our take on it. Baby sister, why'd you call? There's a reason. I can hear it in your voice.”

Beth knew her. Luce fiddled with the handle on her cup for a second and then sighed. “I need some advice. You love Greg.”

“I must. I live with him, endure his sometimes annoying habits, and we just had a baby together. And let's not forget I married him. You stood beside me at the wedding, remember? Oh, no way! Who'd you meet out there in the wilderness?”

That was her sister. Quirky at times, but always smart as a whip.

“Picture a tall, blond cowboy. Pure Wyoming, from his Stetson down to his dusty boots. He keeps his conversation sparse but really knows how to kiss.”

“Woo-hoo! You found
your
cowboy.”

“
My
cowboy?”

“Those sound like your requirements. Tall, good-looking and knows how to kiss. You were about fifteen when you spelled that out.”

“I'd read a few too many Western romance novels.”

“That you pilfered from Mom. I did the same thing. I still read them, by the way. For that matter, so does she. Tell me more about him.”

“He doesn't discuss his feelings. He's close to his family, cares about animals and works long hours, but that's not enough of a description. I think, with him, any kind of relationship is an all-or-nothing deal.”

“Oh, decision time, is it?”

It felt that way... “Beth, you're jumping to conclusions. I have the job of my dreams lined up in California. Plus, you and Mom and Dad are there.”

“You can come and visit us.”

“It isn't that simple. I don't even know what I'd do if I stayed here, and worrying about that is presumptuous, anyway. There's no guarantee he'd even
want
me to stay. He told me he isn't interested in casual relationships. I believe that, because if you look like him and
are
like him, you'd certainly have plenty of opportunities...”

“Did you listen at all to what you just said?”

She had. Part of the reason she'd called was to work it out in her own mind. Beth was always a good sounding board. “I'm in trouble, right? I've known the man for less than a month.”

“I want to meet this slow-talking, fast-moving dreamboat. Invite him to California.”

Only Beth would use the word
dreamboat
. “We aren't serious. We hardly have a relationship! I'm not sure if he'd go, anyway.”

“Aren't you? Sounds to me like he would.”

Luce tapped her fingers on the desk. “How do you
know
?”

“Good question. I wish I had a better answer, but I guess it's a sense I'm getting. An intuition, if you prefer. Despite what you say, you're responding to this guy and he's responding to you. So...invite him.”

“That's not helpful.”

“You hate it when I give you advice.”

“I listen, but I don't always follow your advice. I just needed to talk to someone about Drake.”

Oops. She hadn't intended to mention his name.

Beth pounced. “As in Drake Carson?
That's
who we're having this deep sisterly discussion about? Does Mom know? She'd be thrilled.”

“Don't tell her.”

“All right.” Beth meant it, but her answer was accompanied by a disappointed sigh. She was a person who could keep her mouth shut if she had to. She had flaws—who didn't?—but that wasn't one of them. “If you don't want me to, I won't say a word, but I'm positive she'd be thrilled.”

“Thrilled about what? I can't promise anything. He might know how
he
feels, but I'm...uncertain about myself. Am I in love with him? I'm starting to think so. But all the changes to my life plans have to weigh in, too, right? I've been told more than once that he's worth it.”

Beth sighed. “You've worked this all out. I'm so glad, because I need to get to sleep soon. My son still wakes up about six times a night. I hate people who tell me their newborns slept through the night on the second day they took them home. Congratulations on figuring everything out and making me do nothing. I knew I adored you.”

When they ended the call, Luce stared at her phone and laughed softly. Okay, perhaps she
had
figured it out—to a certain extent. Did she want Drake? She did. He represented an ideal she'd held close her whole life.