Cowboy in My Pocket (17 page)

Tag patted Daisy on the rump and whistled to Chief. The big roan was patiently waiting his turn, but he nipped at the little mare as she trotted by.

“Reminding her who’s boss, eh, big guy?” Tag brushed and curried the horse then put the equipment back in the storage box. Long shadows stretched across the meadow and the air already had a nip to it. Time he started thinking about building a fire, setting up camp.

“Tag?”

He spun around. Lee stood on the other side of the fence, next to the saddles.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. “I wanted my saddlebags. It’s getting dark and . . .”

“I was just bringing them in.” He vaulted the fence, surprised when Lee backed off, away from him. He frowned. “Is everything okay?”

She drew her dark brows together as she watched him, wary, like a filly about to bolt. “Yes. Why?” she asked.

“No reason.” Tag slung the saddlebags over his shoulder, grabbed the insulated pack filled with food and led the way to the cabin. Star was awake, barely. His nose rested on one shiny hoof and his eyes were half closed. Lee had grabbed another blanket and covered him so that only his head and neck and tiny front feet were visible.

“I’ll get a fire going and we’ll move him inside,” Tag said. “The shack’s pretty primitive, but it keeps the heat in and the critters out.”

“Critters? What kind of critters?” Suddenly Lee was much closer, the wary look replaced with one of outright concern.

“Oh, the usual,” Tag said. He dropped the saddlebags on the floor and scrounged through the wood box for some old newspaper and kindling.

“Tag?”

“Possums, skunks, raccoons . . .” He let the sentence dangle.

“And . . . ?”

Tag bit his cheek to keep from grinning. “Bobcats,” he said. “Mountain lions . . . bears . . .”

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” Lee folded her arms across her chest and shivered. The cabin hardly looked strong enough to keep out a rabbit, much less a hungry bear. It was small, maybe ten by twelve feet square, with storage boxes and a small woodstove, no running water and light from one small window.

She’d found a kerosene lantern, but wasn’t quite sure how to light it, and the bathroom facilities left much to be desired. She’d discovered the “one holer” behind the cabin. The only thing good she could say about it was that the inside appeared to be free of spiders and there’d been a roll of tissue handy.

Not quite the vacation she’d imagined.

Vacation?
Now where did that come from? If only she could remember!

“Maybe because you want to think the worst of me,” Tag said.

The fragment of memory fled. Lee sighed. “What?” she asked.

“You said you expected me to say that,” Tag repeated. “I think it’s because you want to think the worst of me.”

Lee shook her head in denial. “That’s not it at all.”

“Are you okay?” Tag brushed the dust off his hands and stood up. The small fire he’d built was already warming the cabin.

“I’m fine,” Lee said. “For a minute there, I thought I remembered . . .”

“What?”

She laughed. “I don’t remember.”

“C’mon, then. Let’s get Star settled inside and figure out something for dinner.” He headed for the door.

“Tag?”

He turned around.

“I’m sorry, really. I wish I knew who I was. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

Tag shoved his hat back on his head, then took it off and stared at the crown. When he raised his head, the look on his face was one of tender regret. “Lee,” he said, “the only mess I’m in is one of my own making. Nothing here is your fault. If anyone should do any blaming, it’s you. Coop and I literally dragged you off the road and tossed you into our own stupid scheme. I never intended . . .”

“I know,” she said, wishing things were different, wishing she knew. “Get Star. I’ll see what’s packed for dinner.”

Tag studied her a moment longer, then shoved his hat back on his head and went outside.

Lee held her breath. There’d been such a look of longing in his eyes it made her stomach clench. He wanted her. He didn’t know a thing for certain about her, but he wanted her.

Lord only knew, she wanted him just as much. More maybe.

But wanting and having were two different things altogether. How could she possibly give herself to Tag until she knew her identity?

How could she admit the feelings growing stronger by the moment until she was certain she was free?

Lee stretched her arms over her head, reached down and tried to touch her toes, gave up on that fruitless maneuver and yawned. Exhaustion filled her, heart and soul, but she knew she could only blame part of it on the day’s ride.

Sighing, she reached for the insulated food bag Gramma Lenore had packed for Tag, slid the pouches and containers of sliced meats and salads out on the table and sighed again. The sigh evolved into a yawn. She stared blankly at the food.

Dinner she could handle. Her attraction to Tag was something else altogether.

His footsteps sounded just outside the door.

Lee’s heart pounded an erratic welcome.

It was going to be a very long night.

Chapter 9

GROANING, LEE stretched and rolled over, then blinked awake in surprise. Daylight filtered through the cabin’s one small window. She’d slept the whole night through! If she’d had any doubts, the pressure points on her hip and shoulder would attest to the fact she’d barely moved all night long.

She was well aware she’d just had another new experience. No one, under any circumstances, could forget a night sleeping in a bedroll on a cold, hard, wooden floor.

Sleeping alone, while the sexiest cowboy alive slept in a similar bedroll not three feet away. She’d thought last night would be awkward, both of them so overly aware of one another, so attuned, each to the other’s presence, but as it turned out Lee’d been so exhausted after her long day she’d been in her bedroll and asleep shortly after dinner.

She imagined Tag hadn’t stayed awake much longer. Lee shoved her hair out of her eyes and studied the motionless pile of blankets next to hers. Had he already gotten up?

Tag’s bedroll suddenly shifted and turned and a well-muscled arm slipped out from under the covers as Tag rolled over on his side. Lee swallowed, painfully aware of his proximity, of his bare shoulder, the tousled mop of dark hair flattened on one side, the sleepy midnight eyes beginning to focus on her face, the slow, lazy smile that turned her heart to mush.

She couldn’t possibly have known him for a mere two nights and days, not and have these feelings, this desire, raging through her. She had to have known him before, wanted him at some time in what, she now tentatively referred to, as life before.

Before what?

“Mornin’.” Tag rubbed his hand over his jaw, then propped himself up on one elbow. The blanket fell away, baring his torso. “You sleep okay?”

Lee watched as he ran his long fingers across his chest in an absentminded gesture, then reached up and shoved the unruly dark hair back from his forehead. The rugged shadow of two days’ growth of beard covered his jaw . . . he hadn’t taken time to shave yesterday, either. The effect on Lee’s libido was, to say the least, interesting.

In spite of her blisters, she clenched her hands into tight fists. The urge to run her fingers through Tag’s hair was almost more than she could stand. The thought of that whiskered chin abrading her breasts and belly sent her heart rate into overdrive. She took a deep swallow and tried to remember his question.

“Yeah,” she said. “I can’t believe I slept all night. I thought Star would wake us up at some point.”

“I got up and fed him around three,” Tag said. He sat up and stretched. The blankets slipped down to pool around his hips. As far as Lee could tell, he wasn’t wearing a thing.

Not even a pair of those plaid boxer shorts he seemed to like.

Tag twisted to his left, then his right. The lean muscles across his back and shoulders swelled and rippled. When he bent forward to grab his toes through the blankets and stretch, Lee focused on the long line of flesh he exposed from shoulder to thigh.

His upper body was tanned to a deep bronze, a stark contrast to the fair skin at his waistline. A smattering of dark hair began on his thigh just below his hip and disappeared beneath the heavy blanket. Tag bent himself almost double, effortlessly working out the kinks. His muscles rippled and bunched.

There was no doubt in her mind . . . the man had a perfect body. Lee bit her lips. This time her swallow resembled a gulp, plainly audible in the small cabin. Tag peeked at her from under his outstretched arm and winked.

Damn him! And he’d been such a gentleman last night! Lee stood up with the blanket wrapped firmly around her body from throat to toes. “I’m going to use the facilities,” she muttered. “Please have some clothes on when I return.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tag replied. Lee thought he looked as if he were trying to chew a hole in his cheek.

At least he didn’t start laughing until she closed the door behind her, but it didn’t help much. She could still hear him as she walked barefoot down the icy trail.

An hour later Lee settled her tender bottom on Daisy’s saddle while Tag adjusted the colt as comfortably as he could in front of him on Chief. The sun was barely peeking over the tree-covered ridge when they started the slow trip back to the Double Eagle.

As stiff and sore as Lee felt, she almost didn’t mind the fact Tag had decided not to bring her back up for the roundup.

Almost. She hadn’t questioned his decision. From the bleak look in his eyes when he’d told her she’d be staying at the Double Eagle with Gramma Lenore, she figured it hadn’t been an easy decision for him.

Nor was it one she was willing to countermand. Not this time. He’d said Coop was too valuable during roundup to stay behind. Someone needed to be at the ranch to help care for Star and keep an eye on Gramma Lenore.

Lee knew that was just an excuse. If Tag’s libido was as overtaxed as hers, and with him feeling as strongly about not getting seriously involved with anyone as Lee felt about knowing her past before she could, it was the only sensible thing.

But did she really want to be sensible? Especially around a cowboy as good-looking, as tough and tender, as Tag Martin?

Lee watched as he shifted Star in his grasp, balancing the skinny little colt more comfortably. Tag’s strong arms made the juggling act look effortless.

She really had to quit thinking about those arms . . . and everything else connected to the man’s body. If only she could reconcile her disjointed memories of a past with the graphic images of the present!

“Is it hard to foster a colt?” she asked, forcibly shifting her thought processes. Tag had mentioned an old brood mare of Coop’s he hoped would accept the orphan. He’d explained how the mare had nursed a neighbor’s orphaned mule without complaint.

“Sometimes, but this old gal is so gentle, I think it’ll work. She’s got a filly due to wean, so she’s still got milk. Star’ll be a lot healthier with the real thing.” Tag shifted in his saddle to look back at Lee. “We keep feeding him calf milk replacer, he’ll grow up and think he’s a cow.”

“Really?” It didn’t sound right, but what did she know?

Tag’s disgusted snort told her she didn’t know much. “I keep forgetting you can’t remember what you never knew in the first place. Anything else come back to you?”

“No,” she said. “Nothing at all.” But it would, she promised herself. It had to.

LEE DISMOUNTED first and reached for the tiny colt. He was much heavier than he looked, but she was able to lower him gently to the ground when Tag put him in her arms.

“Go tell Gramma Lenore we’re back early,” Tag said, swinging his leg over the saddle and sliding off Chief’s back. “I’ll find Coop. He’s gonna have to help me with Star.”

Tag picked up the spindly legged colt and headed for the bunkhouse, followed by a pack of mismatched mutts, all barking and yapping greetings. Lee grabbed the reins for both of the horses and led them into a small fenced enclosure. She removed their headstalls, loosened the cinches on the saddles and turned Chief and Daisy loose in the holding corral. Carefully latching the gate behind her, she headed for the house.

For once, Tag hadn’t had to give her instructions. Lee couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face—she’d actually managed to do the right thing on her own. Well, she’d come here to learn about horses and cowboys, hadn’t she? Obviously, she was learning.

Her grin faded. She came to a complete halt in the middle of the driveway. Where did that come from? For what reason could she possibly want to learn about cowboys?

Why couldn’t she remember? She stared at the shiny new roof on the barn, an oddly familiar image, and waited a moment for inspiration, a memory, even a hint of a memory, about cowboys.

Nothing.

Still pondering her odd flashes of recognition, Lee continued on to the house and stepped into the cheery kitchen.

Where she caught Coop and Lenore, sharing breakfast in their bathrobes.

Once again, Lee stopped in her tracks. Tag, charging through the door behind her, practically knocked her over.

“Coop’s not in his room,” he said. “No one’s seen him since yesterday afternoon. We’ve gotta . . .”

“Mornin’, Lee, Tag.” Lenore’s smile looked slightly strained.

Coop’s greeting sounded belligerent and a bit more to the point. “You weren’t due home until tomorrow,” he said, half rising from his chair. “You said you’d be at the line shack for two nights.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I decided to come home, old man. What are you doing in here with my grandmother?”

“Tag?” Lee grabbed his wrist and squeezed a warning.

Tag stiffened beside her.

“He’s doing what he should have done years ago,” Lenore said. She stood up and moved behind Coop, then gently shoved him back into his chair with a firm grip on his shoulders. “More important, what we’re doing is none of your business, Taggart Martin. We’re both adults. And since we’re doing what we’re doing in my house, I would suggest you watch your tone of voice.”

“It always comes down to that, doesn’t it?” Tag’s bitter reply startled Lee. He yanked his arm free of her grasp. “The Double Eagle might be your ranch, Grandmother, but until you fire me, I’m the manager. Coop works for me and he’s needed in the foaling barn.”

Tag spun around and slammed out of the kitchen. Lee watched his angry retreat, then turned to Lenore for answers. The older woman appeared to have aged years in a matter of moments.

Then Coop reached up and covered her hand with his. Lenore smiled, leaned over and kissed the top of his balding head.

“He’ll get over it, sweetheart. He always does,” Coop growled. “Now, missy, what’s the problem in the foaling barn? We haven’t got anyone due.”

Lee cleared her throat. “Um, Tag and I rescued a baby horse yesterday.” She immediately corrected herself. “A, um, foal, I mean. A boy, er, a colt. I think Tag wants to try putting him with one of your mares.”

“Well, in that case, the boy needs me. I better go get some clothes on.” He stood up, kissed Lenore with enough intensity to make Lee blush, tipped an imaginary hat and headed back to the bedroom.

Lee almost giggled at the besotted look on Lenore’s face.

“My goodness.” Lenore fanned herself with widespread fingers. “That old cowboy can kiss.”

TAG WANTED to kick something, or at least put his fist through a wall. Instead, he counted to ten in Spanish, then in French and again in Portuguese. He was working his way through the numbers in German when Coop marched into the barn.

“Don’t you ever, ever talk to your grandmother in that tone of voice again, young man, or I swear I’ll beat the living tar outta ya.”

“Excuse me,” Tag muttered. “Did I miss something here? You’re in there, fornicating with my grandmother . . .”

“Watch your mouth. What your grandmother and I do is none of your business. We’re both adults, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“How long has this been going on? Answer me that.” Tag glared down at the old cowboy, his fists clenched, aware of a rage boiling through him totally out of proportion to the circumstances.

“Not long enough,” Coop said. “Not nearly long enough.” He smiled sadly at Tag, a look of bittersweet joy so heartrending, Tag’s anger escaped in a breath.

“I’ve loved your grandmother for as long as I can remember,” Coop said. “Like a damn fool, I’ve wasted more years than you’ve lived. I’m not gonna waste another minute. Now, I think you owe that fine lady an apology, don’t you?”

“Coop, I’m sorry. I just . . . everything’s changing, you know?” Tag ran his hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel like it’s all running out of control.” He gestured, pointlessly, aimlessly, trying to find the words. Why did he always have so damned much trouble finding the right words? “I know about Gramma, Coop. Lee told me. Do you know how long . . . ?

Coop seemed to crumple a bit as he leaned against the neatly stacked bales of hay. His blue eyes misted, whether from age or emotion Tag couldn’t tell. Coop brushed his hand across his forehead, dislodging his battered Stetson with the motion, then grabbed a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose. “I’m glad you know. She made me promise not to tell you, but that’s not news she should keep from kin. I don’t know any details, son, only that she’s dyin’. Doesn’t seem fair to ask her more than she wants to tell, ya know?”

“I know, Coop. Don’t let her know I found out. Let her have her way in this.”

“Hell, boy, she’s gonna have her way no matter what. She al’ays has.” Coop blew his nose again, then straightened his hat. “One good thing, in a way. Knowing her days are numbered, well, it gave me the courage to say some things, do some things I should have done years ago.”

“What’s that?”

Coop flashed a cocky grin at Tag and stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket. “I told your grandmother I love her, told her I always have and I will till her dyin’ day. Then I spent the night in her bed. That woman . . .”

“Don’t go there, Coop. Please?”

Coop pushed himself away from the piled bales. “I’m a bit mature for you to be givin’ me orders about where I spend my nights, boy.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Tag pleaded. Lord, his skin felt hot. He hadn’t blushed in years! “When I said ‘don’t go there,’ I meant don’t tell me . . . please? You’re right. You and Gramma Lenore are both mature, responsible adults . . . but I don’t want the details, okay?” The image of his grandmother and Coop, well . . . no, he didn’t want to think about it.

Coop’s understanding chuckle cleared the air, enough so that Tag suddenly remembered why he’d come home in the first place.

He carefully blanked his mind of everything else. Someday, maybe, he’d be able to tell Lee about this conversation. She was bound to see the humor in it. “C’mon,” he said, heading across the barn. “I’ve got a hungry little colt over here in the pen. I thought maybe we could foster him with Goldie, if you don’t mind.”

“Changin’ the subject ain’t gonna make it go away, son.” Coop’s gentle touch on his wrist brought Tag to a sudden halt.

“I know, Coop.” Tag slipped his arm over the old cowboy’s shoulder. “Lee told me there was something between you and Gramma. I didn’t believe her. Guess I shoulda listened, huh?”