“Oh?” Jordana grinned and saw a slow smile work its way across his mouth. What a mouth! To kiss Slade again would be as close to heaven as Jordana thought she might ever get. And she warmed to his dropping that mask and being human with her. As the month had worn on toward the race, Slade was no longer the man behind the armor. Now he was allowing her to see him as he really was, and it was breathtaking.
“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight,” he said. “You want to get a shower and into some clean clothes?”
Surprised, Jordana said, “Really?” Was this a date? Or, more than likely, Slade’s way of thanking her for riding Thor tomorrow. Looking deeply into his eyes, Jordana saw happiness gleaming in them. That wasn’t something she saw often in Slade with the pressures haunting him.
“I’m trying to be more social,” Slade admitted wryly as he walked with her toward the ranch house. “So be kind to me on my first try?”
Laughing, Jordana asked, “And did someone put a bee in your bonnet about this?” She loved the way Slade walked with a boneless kind of grace. He was a man in his prime in every way.
Chuckling a little, Slade slid her a glance. “Guilty as charged. I was in Gwen Garner’s quilt shop the other day. I was buying some soft fabric to wrap your knees in for the ride. She gave me an earful.”
Slade opened the back door for Jordana, and she walked into the mudroom. He enjoyed simply absorbing her small, athletic form. She sat down on a wooden bench and pulled off her boots.
“So, Gwen suggested this?”
“Yes,” he admitted with some hesitancy. Taking off his Stetson, Slade hung it on a wooden peg near the door. “She asked me how I was repaying you for all the hard work you’re putting into this race. I told her about our agreement that if you picked up any of the prize money that it would go toward future training for you.”
Sitting there, hands in her lap, Jordana laughed. “I’ll bet that went over like a lead balloon.”
He sank into her soft, wide smile. Jordana’s blue eyes danced with deviltry. Slade had to stop himself from reaching out and tunneling his fingers through her soft, mussed black hair that lay about her shoulders. “Yes. She wagged her finger in my face and you know how short she is.”
Getting up, Jordana padded in her sock feet toward the door to the kitchen. “Gwen’s my height,” she laughed, opening it and stepping inside.
Slade followed and closed the door. The kitchen was neat and clean. Ever since Griff had gone, the ranch had settled down to a fixed routine that Slade needed. “Yes, she is.”
“And she said?”
“I should take you out and wine and dine you. It was the least I could do, and I agreed with her.”
Jordana stopped and looked up into his weather-beaten face. Heart warm with the unspoken care she held for Slade, she reached out and touched his arm. She knew that he was saving every penny he could for the coming mortgage payment that was due a week after the race. “Listen, you don’t have to do this, Slade. Just the fact you’d do it is plenty good enough for me.”
Her fingers were strong and caressing on his upper arm. Slade wished things were different. But the pressure of the coming race tomorrow morning took his attention. “No, I’m taking you out to dinner. We’re going to Red’s Steakhouse on the southern end of town. You ever been there?”
Allowing her hand to drop back to her side, Jordana shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard they have great steaks.”
“Yes, and I’m buying you one,” he promised firmly. “Now, go get cleaned up and put on that other set of clothes you brought with you.”
How badly she wanted to step into Slade’s massive arms. He looked handsome in the dark blue long-sleeved cowboy shirt and Levis. His chest was broad, and she ached to explore what was beneath that material. “Okay, I’ll be out in about thirty minutes,” she promised, turning and heading out of the kitchen.
Slade stood there after Jordana was gone. The kitchen suddenly seemed sterile as if the life had gone out of it. Such was the sunshine nature of Jordana, he thought. Looking down at his dirty Levis, he walked toward his bedroom. He had to get cleaned up, too. As his boots thunked hollowly down the hall to the master bedroom, his heart sang. Grateful to Gwen Garner, Slade realized he had to learn to get involved with people and society once more. He couldn’t keep hiding out like a polecat. But life had made him that way. Now, Jordana brightened his life and was changing it in a good way. And that was something Slade wanted equally as much as he wanted to keep his ranch.
JORDANA SAT in a black leather booth with Slade. Red’s Steakhouse wasn’t loud and raucous as she had thought it would be. Instead, Nashville music drifted softly in the background while waiters and waitresses zipped smoothly between the many tables. The booth was hidden in a darkened corner, and it felt intimate to her. Slade sat opposite her looking handsome in a clean white cowboy shirt and Levis. He wore a red bandanna around his throat, his hair recently washed and gleaming beneath the lamplight suspended above the table.
“I like the fact we can be here in working clothes,” she admitted. The waitress who was serving them was an older woman in her fifties. She set down two glasses of water and a basket of freshly baked bread and cornmeal muffins.
Slade thanked the waitress who smiled and left. “Gwen suggested this place because I didn’t want to go anywhere that demanded a suit and tie.”
“Oh,” Jordana teased, picking up a warm cornmeal muffin, “that would be The Aspens. It’s a five-star restaurant.”
Nodding, Slade watched her long, graceful fingers as she buttered the cornmeal muffin. What would her fingers feel like moving across his body? He squelched the thought for now. “I’ve never been there,” Slade admitted. It was too pricey, for starters.
“I’ve been there,” Jordana admitted, setting the buttered muffin on the small white porcelain plate near her dinner plate. “The Aspens is nice, but stuffy. The senator’s wife, Clarissa Peyton, goes there all the time.”
“She’s a good person,” Slade murmured, picking up a piece of sourdough bread from the basket and buttering it. “The senator is in prison in Washington, D.C., on murder charges. I felt sorry for Clarissa throughout that godawful public trial of Carter Peyton. She was the innocent in that mess.”
Sad, Jordana said, “Yes, she was.”
“Have you ever had lunch with her?” Slade wondered.
Nibbling on the muffin, Jordana said, “I have. Clarissa has brought in a lot of donations to our hospital. She’s a national charity organizer and very good at it.”
“Clarissa has a big heart. I don’t blame her for divorcing Senator Peyton and taking back her maiden name, Renard, after the trial was over.”
Nodding, Jordana added, “Clarissa got the house here in Jackson Hole as part of her divorce settlement. Right now, her little sister, Nicky, is living with her. Her son, Bradley, just went off to college this year.”
“She looks happier than I can recall,” Slade said. “She’s raised money to protect the mustangs out in Nevada. I liked working with her because she’s the real deal.”
“A Wyoming native like yourself,” Jordana pointed out.
Smiling a little, Slade murmured, “Wyoming bred and Wyoming tough. Clarissa is beautiful, talented and intelligent. But she doesn’t suffer fools for long.” He chuckled.
Laughing with him, Jordana said, “That’s so true. And I’m glad to see her getting back her life now that the trial is done and her divorce is final. She deserves a break.” And, Jordana thought, so did Slade.
Slade chewed on the warm sourdough bread. Red’s knew how to make it right. He gazed over at Jordana. Her black hair was still damp from the recent shower, the strands curling around the collar of her pink blouse. Jordana always brought along a clean pair of clothes after riding thirty miles. It was hot, dusty work. He liked the cream-colored slacks she wore because they showed off her long, beautifully tapered legs.
“I think this dinner is a pre-celebration, Slade. I know that Thor a
nd I can win.”
Shaking his head, Slade smiled at her passion. “I wish I had your faith, Jordana. I’ll feel good that you and Thor will complete the ride without injury.” And Slade knew there were plenty of places where she could fall off and injure herself. Even more, he worried about Thor’s legs. Jordana was competitive but not foolish. He knew she’d take care of the mustang stud and not put him into a potentially injurious situation. The only fly in this ointment was Curt Downing. Slade had nightmares about the bastard.
“Ye of little faith,” Jordana teased with a laugh. “We’ve gone over the fifty-mile trail twice. I’ve worked hard to memorize all of it.”
“Especially the parts where you trot Thor or canter him?”
“Absolutely,” Jordana said, seeing the worry creep back into his eyes. “I’m not a risk taker, Slade. I won’t put Thor into a situation where he could be hurt. You know that.”
Slade impulsively gripped her hand for a moment. “I could lose him, but I can’t lose you, Jordana.” Shocked over what he’d just blurted, Slade pulled his hand away from hers. He saw the sudden widening of her eyes and then her mouth going soft and kissable. Clearing his throat, he looked down at the table and muttered, “I’ve come to like you a lot, Jordana.” Slade forced himself to meet her gaze. “You’re unlike my ex-wife, Isabel. You might come from New York City, but you’re a Westerner at heart. You love the land and the animals. You aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty….”
The words came hard from Slade but they made her fast-beating heart melt like hot butter in a skillet. Jordana sat there savoring his admittance. How like Slade to be all bottled up and then suddenly explode with the truth. Gently, Jordana said, “I like you, too, Slade. I admire your honesty and work ethic. You always tell the truth, no matter how tough it is. When I first met you, you scared me to death.” Jordana managed a sour smile. “You bluster a lot and I had to get past that. It was easy to do because of the way you treated Stormy. You might be a bit rough around the edges with people, but you have a kind heart.”
Heat ran up from his neck and into his face. To Slade, who wasn’t used to blushing, it felt as if he’d stepped into a patch of stinging nettles. It was Jordana’s husky tone, the longing look in her blue eyes, that tore loose the rest of Slade’s hidden truths. “I’m not one for fancy words,” he managed awkwardly. Opening his hands, he added, “Isabel always called me stupid. I knew I wasn’t stupid. Gwen would tell you I lack some social skills, but I’m far from dumb.”
Digesting his painful admittance, Jordana saw a little six-year-old boy struggling to make sense of his parents’ sudden deaths. And then, to be handed over to his aunt and uncle. She couldn’t appreciate all that Slade had gone through. Losing his parents had put armor around his shredded, grieving heart. At eighteen, she knew Slade had taken over the ranch. He’d struggled ever since then. Nothing had come easy for him. He’d earned every bit of money he got. “Social skills,” she murmured, “are something you can add to your repertoire as you see fit, Slade.”
“They call me a loner,” he finally admitted. It felt so right to just let all the poison out of his soul and share it with Jordana. He knew now that she could handle the worst-case scenarios and not flinch. “And I guess I have been. At least…until lately.”
She saw the little boy in the man’s eyes. He was so scared to admit all of this to her. Reaching over, Jordana grasped Slade’s hand. She felt the toughness of his flesh, the hard calluses earned by unrelenting work in all kinds of weather conditions. “Slade, you lost everyone you loved. You did the best you could. I don’t know of too many eighteen-year-olds who could walk into a ranch situation and keep it on its feet. You don’t see yourself, but I do.” Her fingers caressed the back of his hand. “Slade, you’re an incredible person. I’m absolutely in awe of you. I know I couldn’t have done what you did and kept your ranch solvent.”
Her words were warmth to his wounds and scars. He saw the sincerity in her darkening eyes and the gentle expression across her face. “I’ve made some stupid decisions doing that,” he admitted. “Isabel stepped into my life and I lost control of my world. I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t be realistic. I guess I was lonely….”
Hearing the pain and personal censure for his actions in his gravelly tone, Jordana leaned forward and whispered, “Slade, stop gigging yourself. You WERE lonely. When did you have an opportunity to date women after the ranch got hung around your neck? All you did was focus on keeping the ranch viable. That doesn’t leave a lot of time to date and be social.”
He lifted his other hand and captured hers. Although her hand was small, her fingers were long and elegant looking. The warmth of Jordana’s hand heated him up from his heart down to his throbbing lower body. Forcing himself to look deeply into her pleading gaze, Slade said, “Do you always give people a long length of rope to run around on instead of hanging them with it?”
A grin tipped her mouth. Holding Slade’s hand and having him respond like that was salve for her soul. Somehow, Jordana had never seen who she might fall in love with, but Slade fit her dreams. “Always. People get stressed out, traumatized and in shock by what goes on in their lives, Slade. I see this all the time in the E.R. of the hospital. Life isn’t easy on anyone. And it’s been especially rough on you.”
How badly Slade wanted to kiss her. Right now. Here. He didn’t give a tinker’s dam about who saw him do it, either. Unable to reach across the length of the table, he squeezed her hand gently between his own. “I want to think we have something to build on after this race?”
Nodding, Jordana whispered, “Yes, there’s a lot there to work with, Slade.”
The waitress arrived, and they released one another’s hands. In no time, large oval platters filled with T-bone steak, baked potatoes with all the fixings and buttered peas sat before them. Slade thanked the waitress, and she left.
“Wow, this is a lot of food!” Jordana said, giddy over Slade’s admittance. “I don’t think I have a stomach big enough to hold all of this!”
Grinning, Slade picked up his knife and fork. “Listen, stuff yourself because tomorrow you won’t be doing much eating, just guzzling water at the vet stops.”
He was right, she realized. “It looks delicious, Slade.”
So did Jordana, but Slade didn’t dare say that. “Just enjoy it.”
“I’m enjoying us,” Jordana parried with a smile.
Again, that hot sensation moved to expand his heart, which was beating double-time. Slade had never felt what he felt for Jordana. As he focused on cutting up his steak, he found himself hungry—for her. Where would this all lead? He was afraid to dream because of his less-than-glorious past.
“Have you ever been married?” he wondered.
Stunned, Jordana’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. “Er…no.”
“You never found someone? I find that hard to believe.”
Jordana popped a piece of steak into her mouth. Slade’s bluntness was, at times, unnerving. With a slight smile, she said, “Let’s put it this way, Slade, when you’re a resident, there’s no time for anything. I would sometimes work twenty-four hours straight and stagger back to my apartment and sleep the sleep of the dead. I would put in a minimum of twelve hours a day at the hospital. I never had a day off. I found it hard to do all the other things that needed to get done, nevermind having a man in my life. There just wasn’t room.”
Slade tried to imagine her world as a doctor-in-training. “But you had time for riding. I know you rode in endurance contests.”
“Yes, that was my only gift to myself,” Jordana agreed. She spooned up some peas. After eating and swallowing them she added, “What you have to understand is that riding was my outlet. If I could throw my leg over a horse, no matter how bad my hospital life sucked, I was free for those hours. And it helped me deal with my boss, who was a sexual predator.”
Brows raising, Slade set his hands on the table. “What are you talking about?”
Jordana c
onfessed to him her six years with the physician she’d had to work under. When she finished the sordid tale, the court drama and final judgment for her, she said, “I was so burned out by the whole thing, Slade, that I left the east coast to come out here and start a new life. I didn’t want to be known. I wanted to have a good career as a physician and still be able to ride endurance races.” With a shrug, she said, “And the last two years, I didn’t have time for a relationship. Oh, there were some guys, that’s true, but I wasn’t swept off my feet by any of them.”
Giving her a heated look, he asked, “Do I sweep you off your feet?”
The question was thickly spoken and pregnant with promise as it hung between them. Jordana stopped eating and looked up. She felt her heart expand powerfully as she held his warm, gray gaze. “Yes, you do, Slade.”
Nodding, he said, “I’m glad to hear that.” His world spinning and wobbling inwardly, Slade tried to tamp down the sudden joy that sizzled through him. Jordana liked him! And God knew, he liked her more than any woman he’d ever met. Frowning, he glanced up and asked, “Do you think it’s possible that a doctor and a cowboy can get along?”
Laughing softy, Jordana said, “Haven’t we so far?”
“That’s true,” Slade admitted in a deep tone. All he wanted to do now was bring Jordana home, take her to his bed and make love to her until dawn rose. But none of that could happen. Tomorrow, long before dawn, they would be out at the beginning of the fifty-mile endurance ride. Reality crashed like cold ice upon Slade.
“I feel like Alice in Wonderland,” he told her. “This date with you is good, but when I look at my watch, I know it’s not going to last. At 4:30 a.m., we’re going to be out in that meadow and you’re going to be riding Thor.”
Hearing the disappointment in his voice and seeing it reflected in his sad-looking eyes, Jordana reached out and squeezed his hand. “Yes, and I’m going to ride him to win, Slade. That ten thousand dollars is yours.”
Shaking his head, Slade couldn’t believe her. He wanted to, but he knew the dangers, knew Downing and knew that she or his horse could be injured or killed tomorrow. Jordana simply refused to believe that she could be harmed. But she didn’t know Downing and he would be gunning for her. The first thing he’d do is take her out one way or another. Thor was his only competition. Suddenly, the magic of their intimate dinner dissolved into sheer terror for Slade.
The Last Cowboy Page 22
