Hot for a Cowboy

by Kim Redford

  “Who knew that old bag of bones had a run left in him?” He peeled off his jacket and helmet as they walked to the truck.

  “And who knew you’d do practically anything to keep from getting stitches.”

  Shane reached up and rubbed his forehead just at the hairline. “Yeah, I’ve had you on my mind every morning when I see that scar.”

  “Me? I didn’t do anything to cause it.”

  “You snitched to my mom, or she’d never have known.”

  “What about all that blood?”

  “I’d have thrown away the shirt.”

  “Right. I’m sure she’d never have noticed a missing shirt.” Eden rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh at their old argument. He’d always been falling out of a tree or roping without gloves or skinning some part of his body for another reason. She’d always been the one to patch him up or see that he was doctored. Maybe times hadn’t changed that much after all.

  “Well, if she had noticed, I could’ve blamed something or somebody.” He opened the passenger door, eased down inside, and picked up a bottle of water.

  She joined him, flipped on the headlights, started the engine, and headed out. “As usual, I’ll just have to make sure you live to see another day.”

  “Thanks.” And he gave her a sly smile.

  Chapter 14

  Eden drove up the circular drive to the front of Shane’s ranch house, forgoing the three-car garage since it’d take more time and be more effort for him to get inside from there. She parked the pickup and then glanced over at him. He looked bone weary.

  “Is this okay?” she asked. “Do you need help getting inside?”

  “I’m fine. I just need to get cleaned up, eat, and rest a bit.” He finished the bottle of water and tossed the empty on the floorboard.

  “What about the hot tub?”

  “That’s on my to-do list.” He opened the truck door. “Why don’t you change into your swimsuit while I get a shower?”

  “I don’t have a swimsuit. I don’t think I even brought one from LA.”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “I bet you’ll find one of your old ones in the guest room.”

  “My stuff is still there?”

  “Guess so. I haven’t changed much of anything since Mom and Dad passed, and Mom would never have thrown out anything of yours.”

  “Really? That’s so touching.” She put a hand over her heart, feeling the love she’d felt for her second mom almost overwhelm her.

  “Either that, or she was a pack rat.” He chuckled as he stepped out of the truck, leaving his helmet and jacket behind.

  Eden smiled, glad he’d made light of the moment, so she could get her own emotions under control. She quickly got out and hurried up to the double hand-carved oak doors. She felt as if life had rolled backward. How many times had she thrown open these doors and rushed inside on some errand or another? Now she was here with Shane again, as if no time had passed at all.

  “I’ve got your keys, so let me open the doors,” she said, trying to be practical now that she was here.

  “No need.” He quickly thrust wide both doors and gestured for her to precede him inside.

  “I see you’re still not locking your doors any more than Jack is locking the station.” She handed him back his car keys, almost regretting the loss of their connection to him.

  “No need to around here—or there wasn’t any need. Now you’re back, I think you ought to start locking the Den and Clem’s place.”

  “Maybe so.” She’d think about that later, after she’d had time to settle in and take stock of everything.

  Right now, she needed to stay focused on Shane. He liked to think he was invincible, but he was probably suffering more than he wanted to admit. She suspected he’d inhaled way too much smoke. There was a hitch in his breathing and soot around his nostrils.

  She stepped into his home that appeared warm and cozy from the ebbing sunset’s pink-and-gold glow coming in through four windows at the top of the front wall. Dark oak beams ran the length of the vaulted ceiling straight to matching windows on the far side of the house. She felt her breath catch in her throat at the unchanged beauty of the open floor plan that had always greeted her. A huge rock fireplace took up most of one wall with natural leather couches and armchairs arranged around it. The grand piano stood in its usual place, just waiting for Shane’s mom to return and play those classical pieces by Mozart and Schubert that she’d loved so much.

  “What is it?” Shane walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Is the house smaller than you remember? It’s like that sometimes when you see something familiar after going from child to adult.”

  “I expect your mom to walk out of the kitchen smelling of cookies or some other treat she’s baked for us.”

  He squeezed, letting his fingers trail down her upper arm before he dropped his hand to his side. “I know. Hits me that way sometimes, too, but I haven’t the heart to make a lot of changes. I’d hardly know where to start anyway.”

  “No need.” As she glanced around, she realized the house had become frozen sometime in the late eighties, when the redecoration had been the pride and joy of Shane’s mom. It was an unusual sight after all the update and upscale she’d seen in LA.

  “I redid the old rec room over the garage into my bedroom with an attached bath, so I’m there now. I’ll get a shower and meet you by the pool. If you need anything, just holler or find it yourself.” He tweaked the tip of her nose like the old days, tossed his keys on the entry table, then headed toward a hall. “Remember, my house is your house.”

  Suddenly alone in the echoing main room, Eden felt a chill run up her spine. How often had she stood just like this in the past? But there was a big difference now—quiet and stillness, instead of noise and activity. Shane’s home felt almost forlorn, as if it were waiting for his family life to begin again. She shook her head, tossing off her maudlin thoughts. She was here to get Shane on his feet, nothing more and nothing less.

  Yet, as she moved deeper into the house, she felt old feelings and memories come alive. She’d always felt welcome here, and she still did. When she opened the door to the guest bedroom that had been next door to Shane’s room, tears stung her eyes. Nothing had changed—absolutely nothing. It was like coming home. How could that be? And yet, Shane had told her. Still, it was hard to believe.

  She carefully stepped onto the oak floor, feeling like if she disturbed the scene, it might all disappear. She took another step, and nothing changed, so she eased cautiously to the center of the room. She slowly turned in a circle, cataloging everything in sight.

  Cowgirl, oh yes, here was the feminine cowgirl room that had yellow wallpaper with pink and blue flowers accented with a narrow oak chair railing around the entire room, a blue-wood-pattern wallpaper under it. The double bed had four thick pine posters with scalloped wood in between for head- and footboards. There was also a matching dresser, cabinet, and bench. A soft-blue bedspread with pink pillows that Shane’s mom had hand stitched with a horse-and-cow design still beckoned her to snuggle. An oil painting of a cowgirl riding hard across a prairie graced one wall, while the sheer, blue drapes that covered a large three-paned window had been pulled back to let in sunshine.

  She walked slowly across the floor, running her fingers lightly over the bedspread, and ended up at the window. As always, she could see the swimming pool below. Within the protective iron fence, Shane had added a glossy, new hot tub, a fancy barbecue grill, and several comfy-looking chaises. The original table that seated eight was still in its place in the shade of the house.

  She abruptly felt weak, as if she couldn’t stand a moment longer. She sat down on the bench, simply shaking her head. How had she ever let this go? Let Shane go? Let her Wildcat Bluff life go? And yet she knew, had always known, that she was the one who was supposed to carry their dual family legacy
out into the world and make it big-time. Well, she had done it. She’d given all she had to give to fulfill their dream and make them proud.

  But now she didn’t owe anybody anything. She didn’t even have to restore the radio station or keep the spring. She could finally let them go. It’d make Shane happy. And maybe it’d make her happy, too. Nobody needed her for anything anymore. She was free in a way she’d never been in her life. She could still live in her uncle’s quaint Quonset hut, healing her wounds, getting back on her feet, choosing a new path.

  And yet, was that truly what she wanted in life? She shrugged, not knowing anymore, so she got to her feet and looked out the window again. This time, she didn’t see the pool, the hot tub, the table, or anything except Shane. In contrast to his firefighter gear, he wasn’t wearing much—just faded denim cutoffs that left way too much bronze flesh stretched across broad shoulders and washboard abs. He could be instantly booked for a swimwear photo shoot, but she didn’t want to share him with other women, not even a photo of him.

  Suddenly, she realized that she did want something after all, something very special, and that something had a name and one name only: Shane Taggart. And she had him all to herself this very moment.

  She tossed the past into the dustbin of history as she whirled and crossed the room in one fluid motion. She jerked open the first drawer of the dresser, but she saw only rows of neatly stacked underwear in many colors. When had she left so much here? She doubted it’d fit anymore. She tried the next drawer. Cotton socks. Another drawer yielded old T-shirts from country bands. And jean cutoffs. Finally, she found the bathing suits. Two of them. She chuckled at the sight. They were both one-piece, typical of what she’d worn in Wildcat Bluff. She hoped at least one would fit, or at least near enough to get by.

  She tossed her purse on the bed and stripped off her clothing, glad the last bikini wax she’d endured in LA was still good. She couldn’t fit into the green-and-pink-striped suit, so she tried the basic black. She’d recently lost weight, so she was able to shimmy into it, although she was revealing deeper cleavage than when she had been a skinny teenager.

  She checked the bathroom for a towel, smiling at the sight of the blue porcelain sink, tub, and tile with pink and blue towels just waiting to be used again. She grabbed two fluffy towels off a rack, wrapped one around her middle, and carried the other as she hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

  After she rounded the corner in the back of the living area that overlooked the pool, she stopped and caught her breath. She shouldn’t push Shane. He needed to recover from fighting a fire. She ought to be gentle with him—food, water, rest. Yes, that’s what he needed instead of a hotheaded cowgirl bent on seeing to her own desires.

  She retraced her steps to the kitchen. Nothing had changed here, either, not from the warm wood cabinets to the white tile counter tops to the oversized refrigerator fronted by a matching wood cabinet. She opened a cabinet door and pulled out a wooden tray with a barbwire motif, set two aqua glasses on it, then snagged four bottles of cold water out of the fridge, along with cheese and apples. She found crackers in the pantry and added them to the tray, along with paper plates and napkins.

  By the time she headed back outside, she was feeling hungry, so she figured Shane must be starving by now. And yet when she stepped out of the sliding glass door to join him by the hot tub, all squeaky clean now, with wet hair slicked back, she lost all appetite for the food in her hands. She felt hungrier than ever, but now she wanted only him.

  She could hardly remember that when she’d landed in Wildcat Bluff, she’d been sporting a protective wall several inches thick. Shane had chipped away at the bricks or she’d thrown them away, until she now stood before him with nothing more between them than her skimpy bathing suit.

  He looked over at her, light dancing in his hazel eyes. He glanced at the tray, then at her lips. “What have you got for me? Anything good?”

  “Anything you want.” She knew her words came out husky, sultry, by invitation only, but she still wasn’t in complete control of her voice. At least she could use that as an excuse for the effect she seemed to cause in him, going by the way his eyes suddenly darkened and how he looked from her lips to her breasts straining against the too-small swimsuit.

  “Anything?” He sounded husky, too, as if his voice was no longer his to control or maybe still rough from smoke inhalation.

  She quickly set the tray down on the table, determinedly reminding herself that he’d just risked life and limb in a fire. He was probably hoarse from breathing so much smoke. He was probably sore from lugging a canister. He was probably exhausted from running all over pastures. But he looked like none of those things when she turned and saw him walking to her.

  He appeared much more like a wildcat stalking his prey. And she was supper.

  She felt a delicious chill run up her spine as she reached up and stroked her palm over the hard contour of his chest so very slowly, until she covered the hard nub of his nipple.

  “Did I get everything?” She tried to remind them both that she was there to help him recover, but the idea seemed far, far away, as if it belonged to a different time and different people in a different country.

  “You’ve got it all.” He covered her hand with his own large, strong one and pressed her fingers tightly over his heart. “You’ve always had everything I could ever need or want.”

  And with those words, he leaned down, slipped the towel from her waist so he could wrap her tightly to him, and kissed her lips.

  Chapter 15

  Shane felt Eden shiver and wondered if she was cold but hoped she was responding to his touch. He raised his head and looked into her blue eyes turned dark with desire. Not cold. Response. This was midnight on Lovers Leap all over again.

  But what had it gotten them? Nothing. Where had it gotten them? Nowhere. Was it worth taking a chance again? Yes.

  “Oh,” she said, gazing deep into his eyes, “I forgot. You made me forget. I’m supposed to make sure you drink, eat, and lounge in the hot tub.”

  “When you’re dressed like that?”

  She glanced down, jerked up her towel, and tied the corners together above her breasts as she backed away from him. “Don’t say another word. Just get in the hot tub. I’ll take the tray over there.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to forget what I saw.”

  “Not another word. Just get in the water.”

  He nodded in reluctant agreement and trudged over to the hot tub. Hedy’s brilliant plan was disintegrating before his very eyes. He’d have to tell her later that she was nowhere near a master strategist. For now, he simply got in the water and sat down, letting the water bubble around his chest. Maybe the hot tub wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It did feel pretty good after such a challenge of a day.

  But it didn’t feel nearly as good as Eden looked when she sashayed over to him, set the tray down, tossed off her towel, and slid into the water beside him. He’d have to be comatose not to respond to her every single allure—all of which were now emblazoned on his mind like delicate curls and whorls etched into stained glass. He took a deep breath, wondering how he was going to keep his hands off her while she helped him or if he should even try.

  “I brought sparkling water and spring water. Which would you like to drink?”

  “Either one.” He began to suspect she wasn’t going to give him a choice about hands-on or hands-off.

  “Let’s go with plain first, since I don’t want to irritate your throat.”

  “Fine.” How the hell had he managed to get Eden into a swimsuit, into his hot tub, and still get treated like an invalid? He’d mismanaged a major part of the strategy at some point, but he was clueless about how, where, and why. He might as well blame Hedy and be done with it or acknowledge that he could fight a fire but not woo a woman. It was a sad testimony to his life.

  �
�Here you go.” She held out a blue glass in a hand with pale-pink nails.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “What?”

  “The glass.”

  “In the upper right cabinet where your mom always kept these glasses.”

  “I haven’t seen them in ages.”

  “What’ve you been using?”

  He realized too late that he’d taken another wrong turn, so he just grabbed the glass and tossed half the water down his throat.

  “Really, Shane, what have you drinking out of?”

  “Let’s see.” He just shook his head, knowing where this was going and unable to back out. “If it comes in a bottle, I drink out of it. If it comes in a can, I drink out of it. Any other questions about how I drink liquids?”

  “No.” She appeared to shrink in on herself. “I just wondered and wanted—never mind. I guess that was rude of me.”

  “No.” He downed the rest of the water and handed the glass back to her. “Maybe you know the house better than I do. I could tell you what’s where in the cattle barn or the horse barn, but household stuff is not at the top of my need-to-know list.”

  “Right,” she said briskly. “That’s as it should be, with all you have to do around the ranch.”

  He hoped she meant those words, since they were true, but also true was the fact that the place had needed a cowgirl’s touch for a long time. He missed those homey splashes of warm cookies served on pretty plates at the family table, inside or outside. But he wasn’t about to do it for one lone cowboy or even firefighters when he invited them over for a cookout. Paper and plastic ruled the day when he served up beans and beef. Paper towels were better than napkins any day. Still, Eden reminded him of what life had once been like on the Rocky T Ranch. Only now did he realize how much he’d missed it.

  “Here. Enjoy.” She held out a red-bandana-design paper plate and matching napkin toward him.

  “Thanks. I will.”