Her Cowboy Boss

by Patricia Johns

  “And so you stopped being the noble guy?” Was that disappointment he saw in her face?

  “Yeah...” He nodded, then shrugged apologetically. “After she left, I looked back on all the choices I’d made and I realized that I went against my gut and I did what other people would approve of. I’ll never do that again.”

  “My mother went the other direction,” Avery said. “She cared a lot what others thought.”

  “I guess that’s the point I’m trying to make. Public opinion is a powerful thing, especially in a town this small,” he said. “I know that as well as your mom did.”

  Avery nodded. “Which is why I’m not going to be good news, Hank.”

  He hadn’t meant that...but he could see her point. In a town like Hope, these kinds of surprises greased the rumor mill for years. But the thought of her feeling rejected already—that tugged at his heart.

  “Avery, you’re good news to me.” His voice was low and gruff. He wasn’t used to putting his feelings into words, and he shook his head, trying to sort out how to say this. “I mean...I know why you came here, but when you arrived, life just got more interesting. For me, at least. You’re beautiful and funny, and you’ve got this really determined drive, even when anyone else would have given up. Not you. So who cares what the town thinks of you? I like you. A lot... And I’m glad you’re burning our food.”

  Avery chuckled at his last line, and he smiled, too. “Seriously.”

  “You’re very sweet, Hank.” Her eyes misted.

  “Yeah, I try...” He rose to his feet and held out a hand to her. She took his fingers and stood up, but as she did, he found her closer than expected. She was right there, inches from him, her face tipped up toward his in an expression of surprise. Her lips parted, and she looked ready to take a step back, but he didn’t want her to move away... He slid his hand around her waist, feeling the warmth of her body against his palm, and tugged her against him.

  I could get fired for this...

  She didn’t resist. He knew he could have stopped—released her, walked away—but it would have taken a whole lot more strength than he had right then. He splayed his fingers across her back, then lowered his lips onto hers.

  Her mouth was even softer than he’d imagined it. When she leaned into him, his heart sped up and he wrapped his arms around her more firmly and deepened the kiss. She responded with a sigh that only served to fire his blood. His mind was moving ahead—past this moment and into territory where he’d vowed he’d never go again. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and he hadn’t meant to break his drought with her...

  No, he had to stop. He pulled back, licked his lips and let out a frustrated sigh. His body wanted a whole lot more than this...

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “That was really unprofessional.”

  “It’s okay...” She swallowed, dropped her gaze and stepped away. Had he scared her? Offended her? He wasn’t sure—that kiss hadn’t been intentional. He’d meant to reassure her, not kiss her. And he hadn’t been prepared to feel that much longing once his arms were around her slim waist.

  Avery was young and in a vulnerable place right now, and the last thing she needed was to be the comfort of some broken-down cowboy. He hadn’t meant to put that on her.

  “So do you still want that ride to church?” he asked. Now that he’d kissed her. Now that he’d tipped that balance between them... “You can say No.”

  “I want the ride.” She gave him a small smile, then turned and headed back to the kitchen. “And you promised to help me clean up, remember. I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Was that forgiveness? He sure hoped so, because he was already steeling himself against whatever this was he was feeling for her.

  He shouldn’t kiss her again—he’d be risking everything—but right now, it was all he could think about. Driving her to church was a bad idea, but it was too late to back out. He’d just have to keep himself under control.

  Chapter Ten

  Avery noticed that Hank kept his distance all day Saturday. He passed her once in the bunkhouse, and his warm gaze had met hers for a moment. His finger had slid across her hand on the way past...but he didn’t look back. And she’d been left there feeling tingly and uncertain.

  She’d been thinking about the kiss ever since it happened, going over the way he’d pulled her so solidly into his arms, the feel of his lips moving over hers... He was obviously more experienced than she was. She’d never been kissed quite like that! Not that she’d had many boyfriends, exactly...

  That Sunday morning, as she gathered up the cereal boxes and loaded the plates and bowls into plastic tubs to carry into the kitchen, she lost herself in memories of the kiss again.

  “Morning.”

  She startled as Hank came up beside her, and she glanced up to see his warm smile.

  “Good morning,” she answered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still come.”

  “I’m a man of my word,” he said with a wink. “How’s the finger?”

  “Healing.” It still throbbed a little, but it was coming along. “You’re rather good at bandaging up gashes, you know.”

  “I’ve had practice,” he said with a low laugh. “Here, let me take that.”

  His biceps flexed as he picked up the tub of dishes and headed toward the swinging kitchen door. Avery grabbed an armload of cereal boxes and followed.

  Hank was indeed true to his word and helped her with all of the cleanup. He was efficient in the kitchen, and when they were done, she glanced at her watch.

  “We should probably go get ready,” he said. “Did you bring anything...dressy?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  “I should tell you...” He paused and those warm eyes met hers for a moment. “Mr. Harmon’s late wife, Carla, is buried in the churchyard.”

  “Oh...” She let that sink in, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “They bring fresh flowers for her grave once a month, and this is the week they’ll be doing it. Just so you know.”

  Avery could hear the warning between the lines. This would be a somber day for the family, and likely a time when they pulled close. It wouldn’t include her—not that she expected today to be about her in any way... She wouldn’t make any announcements just now.

  “She was very loved, wasn’t she?” she said after a beat of silence.

  “She was,” he agreed. Then he gave a nod. “All right, well...I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

  Avery had brought one dress with her—a light gray, knee-length cotton shift, decorated with pale pink embroidery along the neckline. It cinched at the waist with a cloth belt. As she dressed, she wondered if today was a bad day to go get a look at Chris Mayfield, when Louis and his children had such personal plans. He obviously didn’t think that he was her father...but still. Why would he tell Hank that she’d need to see Chris Mayfield? Her mother had dated him off and on, Hillary had confirmed, but if Hillary was right and her mother had been with several boys her senior year, why would Louis be so insistent that she meet their pastor? Maybe Winona’s female friends had known more about her love life than Louis had.

  Ten minutes later, as promised, Hank pulled up in front of the bunkhouse where Avery waited.

  “You look nice,” Hank said through the open window. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up shirt and a clean cowboy hat, and it looked like he’d had a fresh shave, too. “Hop in.”

  She headed around to the passenger side and he leaned over to push open the door for her. She climbed in and got settled as Hank put the truck into gear.

  “You clean up nicely,” she said as she clicked the seat belt into place.

  “I’m capable of being presentable,” he said with a grin. “But cows aren’t that picky, and neither are ranch hands.”

  She smil
ed at his joke. “So how come you go with the Harmons to church every week?”

  “I don’t drink,” he said.

  “What?” She frowned.

  “I’m ranch manager, which means that I’m pretty much on call 24/7. I don’t get an actual break unless I get off the ranch and turn off my cell phone for a while. Most guys do that at the bar, but I don’t drink.”

  “Oh...” She nodded. “But church?”

  “Faith matters to me,” he said. “Besides, it’s quiet, I like stained glass, I can think my own thoughts uninterrupted. But there is the social aspect, too. I get to catch up with people I wouldn’t see too often otherwise. I’m single—I need the connection. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Actually, I do,” she agreed. “It can get lonely.”

  Hank turned from the gravel of the ranch road onto asphalt. As the truck sped up, she put up her window to keep her hair from blowing around and settled back into the seat for the ride. Hank stepped on the gas and the engine rumbled beneath them. A Sunday drive felt different, somehow...more relaxing, less pressure. They drove in silence for several minutes, and she watched the scenery loping past her window: cows, pasture, the odd sagging barn. Hope wasn’t too far away, and soon the first outlying buildings began to appear.

  “The local restaurants must like Sundays,” she commented.

  “You bet,” Hank said with a shrug. “Most of the ranches around here run the same way. Gives the cooks a break, and gives the restaurants some business.”

  “Sounds like a system that benefits everyone,” she agreed. She could use the break, too.

  “I’m going riding this afternoon,” Hank added. “Another way to get away from it all for a while. Do you ride?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. “I’ve gone on a few trail rides, but I’m not sure that counts.”

  “You’ll have about two hours between church and when you need to start dinner,” he said. “If you want to come with me, you’re welcome.”

  Riding—it had been a while since she’d been on a horse, and the company of this handsome cowboy certainly sweetened the deal. Avery glanced over at him—his hand resting on the top of the steering wheel, his hat pushed back on his head. She wasn’t here for much longer. The clock was running out before she needed to be back in Kansas for the reopening of Winona’s Wilderness. And she’d miss Hank, she realized. She’d really miss him. Somehow, she’d gotten attached to this gruff cowboy, and then he’d kissed her, and...

  Avery wasn’t supposed to be feeling these things. She’d come here for a reason, and getting entangled with some guy wasn’t a part of that. Her mother had shown her how to live with purpose. She wouldn’t get involved with men when she knew it couldn’t last. She owed herself that much.

  “Unless you’d be uncomfortable,” he said when she hadn’t answered for a moment. “I know I overstepped the other day in the dining room. I shouldn’t have. I’m your boss, and you’re here for your own reasons...” His voice trailed off and he looked away for a moment, his expression hidden.

  That was part of what had been nagging at her ever since that kiss—why? What had it meant, if anything?

  “How come you kissed me?” she asked.

  He sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it was all those little things... The way your lips part when you draw a breath, the way your cheeks get all pink every time you’re the slightest bit uncomfortable... And I like your freckles, following them down your neck, across your collarbones. You’re beautiful, but more than that. You’re... God, I don’t know. You’re just you. And I had you that close... I just...kissed you.”

  She’d never heard a man describe her that way before—the things that made her a little shy about herself, like her freckles, had drawn him in.

  “I did kiss you back,” she admitted, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks again, the way he’d described her.

  “Yeah, I know.” He cast her a slight smile. “And I’ve been thinking about doing it again.”

  So had she, but she knew better than to start something she couldn’t finish. She wasn’t the casual dating sort—her heart got involved too easily.

  “I’m going to talk to Louis soon—I promised three days, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not around here for much longer. We both know it...”

  “And if we were caught, I’d be fired on the spot.”

  “I don’t want to get attached—” she swallowed “—to you, I mean. I don’t want to feel things like this... I just want to stay focused on my reason for being here, and then go back home and reopen the shop.”

  “Yeah,” he repeated.

  “So...” How to say this... “We shouldn’t do that...the kissing, I mean.”

  She sounded like an idiot, and she knew it. She knew what she wanted, and feeling like this just got in the way. Maybe this was how her mother felt with the guys she’d been with—attracted, so very attracted, even though there was no future. And she was her mother’s daughter, because there was something about this cowboy in this blasted town that tempted her like she’d never been tempted before.

  “Okay.” He reached over and took her hand—his firm, calloused grip moving gently over fingers, stopping at the bandage. “I won’t kiss you again.”

  Was that a promise she wanted to hear? Not really, but it was better to have some ground rules. Falling for him wasn’t part of the plan.

  Hank signaled and released her hand to crank the wheel. Avery could see the church across the fields—white siding, with a steeple.

  Buried in a churchyard where a devoted husband and children brought flowers...this could have been her mother’s legacy if she’d only told Louis the truth, that he was the father of her unborn baby. If Hank was the kind of man to stand by the mother of his child, then Louis would have done the right thing, too. Both of their lives would have been much different. Except then Carla and Louis wouldn’t have had their loving marriage, and the twins never would have been born... Maybe too many things would have been different.

  They pulled into a parking space and Hank turned off the motor. Avery’s gaze was drawn to a man standing by the open church doors, shaking hands with parishioners as they went inside. He was tall, fit and looked to be in his midforties. He smiled and bent down to say something to an elderly woman, shaking her hand as they spoke.

  “Oh, my goodness...” she murmured.

  “Yeah...” Hank sighed. “That’s Pastor Mayfield, and that’s probably why Louis wanted you to meet him so badly.”

  Chris Mayfield had a head full of dark red hair. It wasn’t as fiery as Avery’s, closer to an auburn and graying at the temples, but most definitely red. She hadn’t noticed that in the photos of him, hadn’t been looking closely...

  Could her mother have been mistaken?

  * * *

  HANK STAYED NEXT to Avery during the service, standing and sitting with the rest of the congregation. They arrived later than the Harmons did, and the pew next to Louis and the kids was already filled, so they sat a couple of rows ahead. He’d found comfort in the routine and the structure of a church service in the past, but today none of it seemed to be working. His mind was firmly on her... The way her dress smoothed over her leg, the way the light from the stained glass windows played across her pale hands. She sat a modest six inches away from him, which had somehow made all of it worse. He couldn’t stop thinking about closing that gap—sliding an arm around her, feeling her against him.

  Except they were in church with Louis and his kids sitting a couple of rows back. Avery had turned around a couple of times already, glancing back at the Harmons, but Hank kept his eyes forward and cursed himself for encouraging this to begin with. Obviously, he hadn’t thought it all the way through.

  Once the sermon started, Avery’s focus turned to the pastor, but her gaze was fi
xed a little too firmly to Chris Mayfield for her interest to be spiritual. Hank wondered what she was feeling, thinking...but obviously, couldn’t ask.

  When the service ended, they trailed out of the church with everyone else. Louis and the kids went to the graveyard. Owen put a bouquet of daisies next to the headstone. Louis stood in the center, with his children on either side of him. Hank never intruded on those quiet moments when the four of them were together again. He wondered what it would be like to have had a life filled with so much love that even death didn’t completely separate them.

  “You said they do this every month?” Avery asked softly.

  Hank nodded. “Like clockwork. But even on the weeks when they don’t bring flowers, Louis goes down to her grave for a few minutes.”

  He’d overheard Louis talking to her once, his hand on the gravestone and his voice choked with tears.

  “Will he ever get over her?” Avery asked.

  Hank thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not completely. If he moves on, the next woman will have to understand that part of his heart will always be Carla’s. They were a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.”

  Avery was silent for a moment, and he glanced over at her. A breeze ruffled her tangled curls, and sadness welled up in her eyes.

  “Mom deserved that,” she murmured.

  “Your mom had that,” he countered. “In you.”

  But he knew what Avery meant. Everyone wanted the kind of romance that Louis and Carla had shared—even Hank. Who didn’t long for passion and commitment that didn’t fizzle out? He’d given it his best shot with Vickie, but it seemed like the kind of love that went the distance couldn’t be forced or planned. All the good behavior in the world couldn’t conjure it up.

  “You ready to go?” Hank asked, and Avery pulled her gaze away from the graveyard and nodded.

  “Let’s go,” she agreed.

  Hank was eager to ride, to get away from prying eyes. That was normally how he sorted out his feelings—on the wide-open plains where the wind made the grass ripple like the sea. And he’d invited Avery...