Cowboy in My Pocket (11 page)

This probably wasn’t the smartest thing, he figured. Drinking a whole bottle of champagne between the two of them, especially when the night stretched out ahead. Long, quiet, dark. A night when everyone who’d been at the wedding would be figuring they were probably doing exactly what Tag wanted to be doing right now.

He swallowed. The sound seemed to echo in the silent cabin. Lee raised her chin, looked directly into his eyes. Her lips parted. Tag thought he could crawl right in there, tasting, touching, experiencing that gut-wrenching feeling he’d felt earlier when they’d kissed.

No! Hell, he didn’t even know who she was and they sure as hell weren’t married. He snatched his hand away. She blinked, then seemed to return, as if she’d been lost, far, far away.

“Did you remember something?”

“No.” She sighed. “Not a thing. So far, all we know about me is that my name might or might not be Lee Stetson. I’m either a rodeo queen, a dude ranch cowgirl or a dude ranch guest, or I misplaced a parade. That’s not much to go on.”

“I’d guess, since you seem to recognize Betsy Mae’s name, that you’re with the rodeo. That’s her whole life, unless you count hangin’ out in honky-tonks.”

“Honky-tonks?” Lee frowned in confusion.

“Country western bars. How could you possibly forget what a honky-tonk is?” He thought of something that had come to him earlier, out at the ranch. “You speak Spanish, don’t you? I saw you talking to Esmeralda. I know that little girl doesn’t speak a word of English, but you two seemed to be conversin’ just fine.”

“That cute little girl with the kittens? She’s adorable, a real chatterbox once she got going. I studied in Madrid for my junior year of college. The language just stuck, I guess.”

Tag’s mouth dropped open.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Tag?”

“I don’t believe this! You can remember studying in Madrid, but you don’t remember honky-tonks? Or why you were wandering down the road in a howling rainstorm without a clue where you were going? This doesn’t make any sense!”

“Don’t shout at me.”

“I’m not shouting!” He paused, glared at her with a sheepish expression, then quietly admitted, “Okay. I was shouting. I’m sorry.”

He stared at her for a long, slow heartbeat. She hadn’t a clue as to what was going on behind those dark, dark eyes of his. Was he going to ask her to pack her bag and catch the bus out of town? He must have noticed her momentary flash of panic.

“It’s okay, Lee. I’m sorry. Really.” He took a deep breath and slapped both hands on the table, palms down. “We’ll work this out, somehow. Your memory’s bound to return, but in the meantime . . .” He paused, looked down at his hands, across the room, anywhere but at her.

He probably thought she was a freak. “You’re right,” she said. “It’ll come back to me. I, in the meantime, I’ll just do what I’ve been doing. I’ll keep pretending . . .” She took a deep breath. “I’ll keep pretending to be your bride. That is, if you still want me?”

“Of course I do. Did you think I’d want to call it off?” He grabbed her hands, shaking his head and chuckling. “Honey, I’m in this way too deep to back out now. Especially now, if what you say about Gramma Lenore is true. She’d be devastated if the truth came out, that we’re not really . . .”

Lee heard him swallow. The man really was terrified of commitment. He couldn’t even say the M word! It could’ve been funny, except she thought it was more sad than humorous. She wondered what made him so afraid of having a real relationship with a woman. Maybe she’d ask Lenore. Or Coop. It sounded as if Coop was the only real romantic in this bunch. Except for herself. She might not know her past, but she was positive she had a romantic soul.

“Anyway,” Tag continued. “I don’t want my grandmother to find out we’re not really married. Do you have any idea how long . . . ?”

Lee shook her head. “No, but obviously she’s confided in Coop. I’ll find out what I can. Do you know who her doctor is?”

“I don’t want to pry. If she wants me to know, she’ll tell me. My grandmother’s never been one to beat around the bush. She’s as straightforward and down to earth as they come. She’s got her reasons for not saying anything, so I won’t either.”

Lee watched the emotions flicker across Tag’s face, noticed the slight clenching of his strong jaw, the bright sheen in his midnight eyes. He wasn’t going to cry in front of her, but she knew he struggled with very strong emotions. It tore her apart to watch him fight his tears, especially when she knew how badly he must be hurting, how healing tears could be.

“Don’t you have to unhitch Dandy?” she asked. She’d caught him confiding in his big old horse earlier today. Maybe some quality time with Dandy right about now would help.

“Already did.” Abruptly Tag shoved his chair back from the table and stood up. Lee was certain she detected a look of relief on his face. “But it wouldn’t hurt to check on him, make sure he’s got all he needs for the night. You look exhausted. Why don’t you go on to bed?”

“As soon as I clean up here,” she said. “Have you got everything you need?”

He looked her over and she felt his slow appraisal like a charged caress across her skin. Then he smiled, a long, lazy smile that crinkled up the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and popped that damned dimple back into position. “Almost,” he said, grinning even more.

Her stomach pitched and her breath caught in her throat. She was absolutely certain he’d practiced that smile on every woman he’d ever come across. Every damned one of them probably reacted exactly the way she did.

That didn’t make the effect any less extraordinary.

He stuck his bare feet into a well-worn pair of boots by the back door, grabbed a flashlight and left her standing in the kitchen. The second the door shut behind him, Lee grabbed the back of the chair for support and exhaled all the air from her lungs. “Just get me through the night, Lord,” she muttered. “One night at a time.”

Activity was good, wasn’t it? She quickly cleared away the remnants of their meal, tossed the empty champagne bottle in the trash, washed the dishes, and waited.

Waiting was not good. Waiting, she decided, gave her too much time to think, too many opportunities to consider the night ahead.

Lee brushed the rose petals off the bed, swept them into a pile with her hand, then tossed them in the trash. She grabbed her nightgown out of the overnight bag, closed and locked the bathroom door, stripped off her lounging pajamas, slipped into her gown and crawled between the crisp sheets of the double bed, all before Tag returned.

She wouldn’t let herself think of him, sleeping mere feet away across the room, wrapped in his bedroll on a hard wooden floor. She wouldn’t wonder if he slept in pajamas or underwear, or nothing at all.

She wouldn’t dream about Tag Martin, or the wedding that wasn’t, or the past that somehow wouldn’t stay put. She wouldn’t think about Tag at all, not one bit.

But he filled her thoughts, anyway, as she drifted off to sleep. The sweet scent of roses lingered.

TAG RAN the stiff brush over Dandy’s withers and along his spine, lost in the familiar ritual of grooming the old horse. He thought of the day almost twenty-eight years ago when he’d first seen the skinny little colt, trembling, bleeding from a row of deep, ragged gashes across his rump. Coop had found the day-old colt not far from here. The colt, his dead mother, and the mutilated body of a mountain lion.

The big cat had been trampled to death, but not before delivering a series of lethal wounds to the valiant mare. Tag ran his fingers across Dandy’s broad rump and felt the old scars from the attack. Big Ed had wanted to put the orphan down, figured it’d take too much time to feed and care for the animal.

Gramma Lenore had stood up to Tag’s grandfather, something not many people dared to do. Tag figured she probably recognized two kindred spirits, the twelve-year-old boy and the colt, both of them orphaned and bleeding, though from different types of wounds. Whatever the case, she’d put her foot down and decided the scrawny bay colt would make the perfect 4-H project for Tag.

“You’ve been a helluva lot more than a 4-H project, haven’t you, boy?” Dandy nickered, a sound of pure, equine satisfaction.

Tag scratched behind his ears and the big horse lowered his head for more. “Hard to imagine a world without you in it, big fella. Almost as impossible as it seems to think of Gramma Lenore not here to drive me nuts.”

If what Coop told Lee was true . . .

Damn, but his life was such a mess. Sometimes it seemed as if everything was absolutely perfect, but all that perfection hinged on things staying the same. Impossible. Dandy was still the proverbial healthy horse, but he’d reached the upper span of his years; Coop was practically eighty now, Gramma Lenore only a little bit younger.

The day would come when Dandy wouldn’t be waiting for him out in the barn, when Coop wouldn’t be concocting some outrageous new scheme and Gramma Lenore wouldn’t be calling on the phone, hassling Tag about finding himself a wife.

Lee. She sure was a nice surprise. If he really wanted to find a wife . . . no, that wasn’t going to happen. It was comforting, though, knowing she was there, waiting for him in the cabin, probably wondering what was taking him so long even though he knew damned well she’d sent him out here to be alone.

Like he needed time alone. Hell, he’d never had any trouble controlling his emotions. Emotions were for those stupid talk shows and such. Tell-all couch shows, Coop called them.

Tag swallowed and wondered why his throat felt so tight, why the big horse seemed to blur in the pale glow from the lamplight. Dandy shook his head and snorted, then rested his chin on Tag’s shoulder. “You think you know so much,” Tag muttered.

The horse nickered softly and rubbed his big head against Tag’s cheek, as if offering what comfort he could. Tag felt a dam burst somewhere deep in his soul. He didn’t even recognize it at first, the sob welling up out of his chest, the tears he hadn’t cried since his parents were killed.

Then it didn’t matter. The grief spilled out of him, deeply, painfully, covering a multitude of events, any number of fears he’d faced on his own. Spilled out in agonizing, wrenching sobs that tore at his throat and chest and left him shaken and empty, but strangely calm. Stronger, somehow. He didn’t understand it.

No, he thought, grabbing his shirttail and using it to wipe the tears off his face. It didn’t make any sense at all.

Tag absentmindedly patted Dandy’s neck, turned off the light and stepped outside the barn. He stood under a sky that stretched forever, a velvet carpet strewn with countless diamonds, and thought of the good things in his life.

This ranch and all the people who worked it, Coop’s loyal friendship, his grandmother’s bossy but loving nature. Then Lee’s image filled his heart. Try as he might, Tag couldn’t get her out. He wasn’t all that sure he even wanted to.

He closed the barn door behind him and headed back to the cabin. The lights inside dimmed just as he stepped up on the porch. Lee must be going to bed.

He hoped so. He didn’t think he could stand crawling into his bedroll, knowing she watched him from the other side of the room. The desire to climb in beside her was much too strong.

He paused for a moment and leaned on the porch railing. Damn, what a day! For a man not all that comfortable with his emotions, he’d certainly run the gamut of them since this morning. It was such an unusual feeling, a sense of vulnerability he’d never experienced before.

The news about Gramma Lenore had sure been a shocker. It was typical, though, that she wouldn’t tell him. She’d protected him all his life.

First from his mother’s indifference, then from his father’s drinking. Most of all she’d protected him from Big Ed’s rages. Tag thought about that a minute. The only one his grandmother hadn’t had to protect him from was Coop.

Talk about your dysfunctional family. Damn. He pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket and blew his nose, wiped his suddenly muggy eyes and headed into the cabin. He didn’t want Lee to see him upset, but he was learning that once you got started with all this emotional stuff it wasn’t easy to stop.

He closed the door quietly behind him and grabbed his bedroll. Lee slept soundly, her back to the room, the blankets drawn up around her shoulders. He could see the straps from that wispy blue gown she’d worn earlier, though. The image that burned through his brain was enough to send him into the bathroom for a cold shower.

He refused to consider the sleeping arrangements back at the Double Eagle. With his grandmother firmly entrenched at the ranch, he and Lee wouldn’t have any choice but to share a room.

Tag stood dead center in the big claw-footed tub, thoroughly drenched and miserable from the icy water spitting out of the overhead shower. He contemplated the next few weeks, sharing a room but not a bed with Lee Stetson.

He groaned. Impossible. Shivering and covered with goose bumps, Tag turned off the water and rubbed himself down with a coarse towel, then wrapped it loosely around his waist. Maybe it was time to go check the cattle in the high range. Sleeping on the ground beat cold showers hands down.

Chapter 6

“WHAT WAS the point of a phony wedding in the first place, Coop? I don’t understand.”

“Think about it, Lenore. Use the brains the good Lord gave you.” Coop didn’t think he’d ever been as angry with Lenore Martin as he was right now, at least not since the day she’d married Big Ed. Damn woman. He should have packed his horse then and moved on. He’d just never found the strength to leave her.

He’d never been able to stay mad at her for long, either. “What means more to that boy than anything in the world?” he asked softly.

Lenore blinked.

“Now think about what you’ve been threatening Tag with since he was just a scrawny, know-it-all kid.”

Her face blanched. “The Double Eagle,” she said. “Oh, Coop, what have I done? What have you done? Tag knew I never would have . . .”

“Well, Tag sure didn’t know you wouldn’t have turned it over to the foundation if he wasn’t married. You’ve been like a burr on a dog’s butt, pushin’ that boy ta get married or lose this ranch. How could you, Lenore? He lost his mama and his daddy. This ranch is all he has.”

“I just wanted him to be happy. He always seems so lonely out here. He’s gettin’ more set in his ways all the time. I wanted him to make the effort to meet some nice young woman, but I figured I was running out of time.” Her blue eyes brimmed over with tears. “Coop, the deed’s already in his name. I had it transferred ages ago. It’s his birthday gift, but once he has the Double Eagle, my threat is completely worthless. That’s why I’ve been pushin’ him so hard. I never would’ve imagined him faking a marriage to fool me.”

“Well, it’s too late now. Like I told you, it’s not fake.”

“How could you do that to him?”

“It’s your fault, Lenore.” Coop ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “When you told me you . . .”

Damn, he couldn’t get the words out.

He gazed at Lenore, memorizing every feature of that wonderful, cantankerous face. She glared back at him, challenging each word he said. Blast her gorgeous hide, that look gave him backbone. “When you told me you were dyin’,” he said, embarrassed when he had to clear his throat, “I figgered the least I could do was grant your one wish. Remember what you made me promise? You wanted to see that boy married. Well, he’s married. So get used to it.”

Lenore glanced away. Unusual reaction, Coop thought, for a woman who faced everything head-on. But then again, it must be difficult knowin’ there was a limit on how many days you had left on this earth.

Lenore sighed, then looked squarely at Coop. “But how? How’d you get him legally married without him knowing it? That’s impossible.”

“I got the license from the county clerk. We go way back. Bud owes me. I helped him when he was havin’ woman problems.”

“You? How’d you help anyone with woman problems, old man? You can’t even help yourself. Hardheaded cowboy,” she muttered, just under her breath.

It was loud enough for Coop to hear. “Watch what you say,” he grumbled.

“Okay,” she snapped. “Then what about the preacher? That brother of yours does just fine at plays and such, but . . .”

“Buck got ordained in one o’ them mail-order churches. He did it when he was playing a preacher in some show last year. Said it would make it easier to experience the part of his character. Sent off for the registration form, paid his fee and got his papers in the mail. I jest never got around to telling Tag that Buck was a real preacher, is all.”

“You scheming old man. I can’t believe . . .”

“Quit calling me an old man, Lenore, unless you want me to call you an old woman. I’m barely six months older than you, as I recall.”

“Six months in years, maybe, but we’re a lifetime apart when it comes to brains. How could you do something so horrible to Tag? Does he even like the girl?” She shook her finger right under his nose, so angry-lookin’ he was afraid she’d explode.

Damn she was purty.

“Well, does he?”

“Hell, I don’t know if Tag likes the girl,” Coop shouted. “He jest met her this mornin’!”

Lenore slapped her forehead with her open palm. “I don’t believe it.” She glared at Coop with obvious disdain. “You and Tag deserve each other. You know that, don’t you? How’d you ever talk this girl into marrying a man she doesn’t know?”

“I tell ya, Lenore. She doesn’t think she’s really married. Tag hired her. She’s a friend of Betsy Mae’s. Lee thinks it’s all for show, to keep you from buggin’ Tag to get married. Tag didn’t tell her about the Double Eagle.” Coop sighed. “I guess I’ll have to tell ’em both the truth. It jest seemed so perfect. Tag was throwin’ himself a weddin’ and you wantin’ him married and all. It was supposed to be to Betsy Mae. They’d always gotten along. Then when Betsy Mae ran off and got married, she made arrangements for Lee to take her place. I jest didn’t see the point of messin’ with a really good plan. I thought it’d work out fine.”

Lenore slowly shook her head side to side. Coop reached out and took her hands in his. Her fingers were long and narrow, the joints slightly larger than when she’d been a girl, but the skin still felt smooth and soft. He couldn’t help but notice the age spots sprinkled across the backs. They looked right, like they belonged there. Like her hands belonged in his.

He’d never held Lenore’s hands before, except to help her in or out of her car. It was nice, sitting here at the kitchen table, holding Lenore Martin’s hands, even if she was madder’n a wet hen.

It felt even better when her fingers squeezed his back. She raised her head and smiled, a gentle smile that lit up her face. “Coop, I know you only did it because you love the boy. Lord knows, I love him more than I can say, or I wouldn’t have been wanting to see him happy. I believe sometimes you have to push a bit when the ones you love get stuck in their ways.”

She patted Coop’s hand and her smile stretched into a grin. “You know, it just might work. I think I’ve got an idea,” she said. “I know what we’re gonna do.”

“Well? Get on with it.”

“We’re not gonna tell ’em anything. We’re going to help those two fall in love. You saw ’em together this morning. Tag could barely keep his hands off Lee and she looked at him like she’d never seen such a handsome cowboy in her life. They can’t be that good of actors. I think the spark’s already there. It could happen. With a little help, well, think about the possibilities, Coop. They’re gonna be actin’ married for my benefit anyway. I’m afraid if we don’t take advantage of this situation, Tag’ll never find a wife. He’s too stubborn.”

“He certainly comes by it honestly,” Coop said. He hadn’t thought of the consequences, though. Not really. “Tag’s got good reason to be afraid of marriage, Lenore. His mama and pa never stopped arguing ’cept those times when Maggie’d run off and wasn’t here for Jim to fight with. Tag told me they were fighting right before the wreck that killed ’em both. Poor boy’s last memory of his parents, the two of ’em arguing in front of him.”

“Ed and I weren’t much of an example, either.”

Lenore tugged her hands free of Coop’s, stood up and walked over to the sink. Coop watched her busying herself, wiping down the clean counter, refolding the folded towel, then got up and stood behind her. “Weren’t you’n Ed happy, Lenore?”

“Doesn’t matter. That time’s past now and Ed’s gone. What matters is the boy. I want to know he’s happy . . . before I’m gone.” She turned around, but she must not have realized how close Coop was to her. She practically tumbled into his embrace.

It felt perfectly natural for his arms to come up around her, even more natural for Lenore’s head to rest on his shoulder.

He sighed and nuzzled his chin against her close-cropped hair. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she fit herself against him like she’d been designed for him. She smelled of good clean soap and sweet powder. He rocked her gently to and fro and felt her sigh against his chest. “Lenore, you know I’ll do anything you want. You wanted Tag married, he’s married. You want him and that little gal to fall in love, I’ll do my best to help. But damn, woman, I hope you know what you’re up to.”

He reached behind him and unclasped her hands from his waist, then stepped back. “Now, I’d best be takin’ my ornery brother and gettin’ out to the bunk house where we belong. G’night, Lenore. Will you be okay up here at the house by yourself?”

She slanted a look at him that just about curled his toes. Then she grinned and before Coop knew what she was up to, Lenore kissed him. Not anything fancy, just a quick little peck on the lips, but it felt like one of those kisses he’d read about, the kind with enough current to short-circuit his parts.

Before he could catch his breath, Lenore slipped away and headed for the door. “I’ll be just fine.” She flashed him a big smile and damned if she didn’t wiggle her butt like a schoolgirl. “Good night to you, too, Coop,” she said.

She left him standin’ there with what he knew had to be the goofiest lookin’ grin he’d ever had plastered on his face.

LEE AWOKE out of a world of dark skyscrapers and a bird’s-eye view of Central Park, into a pool of sunlight. Instead of blaring horns she heard a steady, unfamiliar noise, a rhythmic pounding outside the window. It stopped suddenly, at the very moment she sat up in bed and stretched. The cabin’s only door swung open and Tag entered carrying an armload of wood.

“Good mornin’, sleepyhead. How was your night? Remember anything new?” Tag grinned at Lee, then as if he’d suddenly noticed how little she was wearing, turned quickly and dropped the pile of freshly chopped wood into a tin box beside the woodstove.

“Only that I don’t like to wake up early,” Lee grumbled. As furtively as possible she pulled the comforter up to cover herself. At least now she knew what all the noise had been. Tag chopping wood. She thought of those smooth muscles rippling with the swing of the ax. That was a sight she’d like to have seen.

“Early? Heck, woman, it’s after seven. Day’s half gone.” Tag crouched in front of the stove and added a small piece of wood to the fire. “This’ll burn out by the time we’re ready to leave,” he said, “but it’ll keep the cabin warm enough for you while you’re getting ready. We need to pack our things and head back. I’ve got a lot to do, especially if I’m going to be away most of the week.” He straightened up and brushed his hands off on his pants.

“Where are we going?” Lee tightened the comforter around her shoulders. It was definitely warm in the cabin, but she felt naked sitting up in bed wearing nothing but her sheer gown.

“We aren’t going anywhere. You are staying at the Double Eagle while I head up to the east range with a few of the boys to round up strays and get stuff set up for roundup. Then I’m moving over to the west valley, where we’re branding and separating out the culls, and if there’s enough time I’ll be heading over to Will’s to help him do the same. With Betsy Mae gone, he’ll need an extra hand.”

“Oh.”

The look he flashed in her direction was pure male exasperation. “Lee, don’t be upset. It’s better this way.” Tag sat on the edge of the bed next to her and took hold of her hands. This close to her, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, circles that hadn’t been there yesterday. “You can spend some time with Gramma Lenore and I can get my work done. Maybe after a few days she’ll feel like she knows you well enough, she’ll head on back to town.”

“You don’t think we can carry it off, pretending to be married?” She thought they’d done remarkably well at the wedding.

“Oh, Lee, it’s not that at all.” Tag chuckled softly and then he actually blushed and glanced away. “Don’t you realize, with my grandmother at the Double Eagle we’ll have to share a room if we’re going to convince her we’re married?”

“We shared a room last night. It wasn’t a problem.”

“Maybe not for you.” This time he laughed out loud. “I don’t think I can take too many nights like the one I just spent.”

This time Lee knew she was the one who blushed. At least that explained the dark circles. She bit her lips and focused on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, visible just over Tag’s shoulder. His thumbs stroked the tender skin on the inner sides of her wrists. The gentle friction sent fire exploding the length of her arms. She shivered, but made no attempt to tug her hands free.

“Besides,” he said, obviously unaware of the sensual havoc his touch was causing, “if you’re at the ranch without me there to bother you, you might just get your memory back. It worries me, your not knowing for certain who you are. What if someone’s looking for you? Hell, Lee, for all we know, you could have a boyfriend or even a husband and kids somewhere. Just because you weren’t wearing a wedding ring doesn’t mean . . .”

Tag sighed, glanced down, looked to one side, then finally turned those beautiful dark blue eyes on Lee. He was so close, so impossibly close to her, his eyes filled her field of vision. She hadn’t noticed the varied colors before, the kaleidoscope of blues, hypnotic, mesmerizing, so completely and wonderfully compelling.

“It’s too tempting,” Tag said, and though he smiled, it was a rueful, self-deprecating smile, “knowing you’re so close, wearing a gown that’s better’n any invitation I ever saw. I don’t have any right to want to touch you, but all I thought about last night was this . . .” Still trapping her hands lightly in his grasp, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “And this . . .” His lips found the birthmark at the corner of her mouth. “And this . . .”

His mouth covered hers completely. He released her hands and ran his fingers teasingly the length of her arms and along the column of her throat. He cupped her jaw lightly in his big hands, controlling the kiss, deepening the impact on her senses. Then, whispering her name, he embraced her, drawing her gently but firmly against him.

His lips traced the corners of her mouth, drawing a frantic whimper from somewhere deep inside of her. Opening to his gentle assault, Lee lost herself in the rhythmic pounding of her heart, the rush of blood to her center.

She floated with his kiss, parting her lips and tasting him. Her thoughts flowed aimlessly, disjointed, as if fragments of her were kissing Tag, while other fragments, other parts were . . . where? Somewhere, some almost familiar place, a beautiful restaurant. Across the table, not Tag but someone else, someone with blond hair and pale blue eyes, a man . . . a man! She tore her lips free of Tag’s possessive kiss.