They ran to the edge of the water, past two startled horses, and jumped in.
“Hold your breath,” Houston told her. He pushed her under and led her toward the middle of the pond. She kept her eyes closed, her senses shut off, save for the muted sounds of the water in her ears and the constant pressure of Houston’s hand holding hers. Then she felt a tug on her arm. She straightened her knees and came to a standing position, waist deep in the watering hole.
“It’s okay. They’re gone.”
Emily shook her head, puppy-dog fashion, and took a gulp of air. She looked around and saw the swarm retreating back in the direction of the picnic.
“That run certainly worked off lunch,” she joked between breaths. She expected Houston’s ready laugh to join hers, but heard nothing.
She turned, curious. Maybe he’d been stung. She blinked the water out of her eyes and focused on him. Two red welts had already appeared on his skin, one on his neck and one just above his collar. She fingered the area around each wound.
“I have some medicine back at my truck.”
When he didn’t reply Emily glanced up. For a man who’d just been stung, he had a strangely contented look on his face.
Emily followed his line of vision down to the front of her wet blouse. Her white, cotton shirt was matted to her body, revealing her skimpy bra beneath. Even from her perspective she could see the pink of her nipples showing through the material. She imagined Houston had an even better view. In fact, she could guarantee it. His ragged breath might have been in response to their recent dash, but that fiery look in his eyes came from a more primal place.
He grasped her shoulders. A part of her prayed that he’d kiss her. The other more logical part...well…it was kind of hopeful about it, too. She watched as he moved closer and closer, until his mouth brushed against hers.
Just say no to cowboys. Just say... “Mmmmmmm.”
His grip around her tightened as he traced a line of soft kisses along her cheek. “Emily, when can I see you again?”
“Oh, Houston,” she heard her breathless voice say, “I can’t.”
He pulled away. Slightly. “You’re not seeing someone else, are you?”
“No. It’s nothing like that.”
“Good. Then answer my question,” he whispered against her neck as he nibbled his way to her collarbone.
How could she answer? She couldn’t even think straight. “Houston,” she gasped, “we have a problem.”
He gave a low chuckle. “More than you know, darlin’, but let’s not get into that right now. We’ll approach this another way. If you weren’t going to see me again, when would be the best time to do it?”
It took her a while to figure out what he was aiming at. “I’m checking on Tulip again this Friday, but I don’t think—”
“Friday is perfect. We can meet early, chat over drinks, have dinner together—”
“But Houston, you don’t understand. I made a vow...” The rest of her sentence came out in a moan as his lips descended onto hers once more. This cowboy must have used liquor in his lip balm, because she was definitely getting tipsy. By the time he came up for air again, she was mush. If he hadn’t been holding onto her, she would have floated away.
“Now, I have only one question left,” he said, curling an arm around her and guiding her out of the pond. “How am I gonna get you back to your truck safely with you looking like that?”
Emily wrapped her outside arm across her chest. “Are you worried about protecting me from the other cowboys?”
“No, ma’am.” He smiled. “I’m worried about protecting you from me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
When the clock radio kicked in the next morning, Emily was already awake. Her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling as she listened to a nasal-toned tween sing about…
Friday.
Until this morning, she’d never noticed how the stucco nubbies above her formed little pictures. There was a section over her bed that looked like a lion, and one in the corner that resembled a boot. Or maybe it was Italy, Emily mused, remembering her basic geography. But it was the image above the door that really drew her attention. The stucco bits swirled into the shape of a cowboy hat.
Friday.
She pulled back the covers and kicked her legs out on top of the blankets. “It’s just another day,” she told herself and headed for the bathroom.
As she passed the closet, Emily paused. She eased back the sliding mirrored door and peered in.
The right side was home to her fancier duds—dresses, skirts, and a lone business suit, purchased when she was meeting bank managers and arranging the loan to start up her clinic. She let her fingers glide over the lighter fabrics of her summer dresses, stopping at her favorite. It was cut from a cool, silky material. Delicate rose colored flowers played across a dark blue background.
“No.”
She jerked her hand away as though it had been licked by fire. Jeans would be fine. It was another ordinary day, after all. It wasn’t as if she was doing anything special. She wasn’t going out to dinner with Houston Saveloy.
She pulled a pair of denims off the hanger and tossed them onto the bed, throwing a plain cotton shirt on top. She reached for her gym bag and placed it beside the pile.
“That was Rebecca Black and you’re listening to CKFM,” the radio DJ informed her. “We’re coming up to six o’clock on this beautiful Friday morning—a perfect day for the Stampede parade, which will begin shortly after nine a.m. and journey straight through the heart of downtown. It’s already fifteen degrees Celsius in Calgary. We’re expecting a big high of twenty-seven, that’s eighty-one degrees Fahrenheit for you diehards. And speaking of diehards, stay tuned for a classic from Madonna...right after this.”
Emily gave her bottom lip a nibble. Jeans would be warm.
She touched the dress again. A light, summer fabric would be nice for a change, and it was ultra-feminine to boot. After she made her rounds, it would be refreshing to have something cool to slip into, regardless of her plans for that evening.
“I have no plans,” she reminded herself, pulling out the blue dress, hanger and all. She placed it on the bed beside the other clothes and trotted off to the bathroom humming.
Forty-five minutes later, she met Jackie at Prince’s Island Park for their usual Friday morning run. Half an hour on the treadmill, a couple of times a week, helped Emily keep in shape and work off stress. The Friday ritual of running ten kilometers with Jackie had started as a workout challenge. That initial purpose was soon forgotten and, instead of a purely physical exercise, the run was fast approaching a social one, with Jackie stopping to pet every dog that passed their way. Especially if a good looking, male human was holding the other end of the leash.
“Whaddaya think?” Jackie asked, tossing her locks in a Charlie’s Angels kind of way as they began their pre-run stretches.
Emily examined her friend’s hair. “It’s very black.”
“It’s supposed to be black. Haven’t you seen Angelina Jolie’s new do?”
“But I’d just gotten used to the red.”
“Oh, Emily. You’ve got to experiment more. Live a little.”
If only Jackie had seen her in that pond with Houston Saveloy, his hands on her body, his mouth on her...
“Hello? Is anybody home?”
Emily heard Jackie’s words distantly. It was the hand waving in front of her face that brought her back to the real world. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else.”
“Musta been good. The last time you looked like that, Ryan Reynolds was running around naked in The Proposal.” With that, Jackie took off on her run, the sound of laughter trailing behind her.
When Emily caught up, Jackie gave her a devilish smirk. “No. I’m lying. I’ve seen that look on your face more recently. It was the other day at Eduardo’s, when that cowboy came to our table and started flirting with you.”
Emily’s cheeks burned. “Me? He wasn’t flirting with me!”
“Well, he sure as heck was flirting with one of us and it wasn’t yours truly.” Jackie looked up at her with eyes as woeful as a basset hound’s. “Too bad for me. He was a total babe.”
“I suppose some women might find him attractive,” Emily replied, wiping away a bead of perspiration that had popped up on her brow, sweat that had less to do with running and more to do with Houston.
“Some women? How about you? You were practically drooling over him.”
“I was not!” As soon as she said the words, Emily knew she’d overplayed them. Her vehement denial betrayed her feelings more than mere words ever could. She may as well have agreed with the evaluation. The smug look Jackie wore only reinforced the fact that her friend knew the truth, too.
“Then it must have been the pasta that had you in raptures.”
Emily stuck her chin up high. “It was. In fact, I think I’ll go back there for lunch today and order it again.”
“That’s what I mean, Em. You need to live a little, try new things. Look at my situation. My boss announced yesterday she’s leaving the theater company to take up an artistic directorship position in Vancouver.
Emily slowed her pace to match Jackie’s. Chatting aside, there was another reason for her friend’s deceleration. Heading straight for them was a leashed four-legged animal, a Border collie cross, by the looks of it. What was more obvious was the fact that the creature was being led by a man.
“So here I am,” Jackie went on. “I just switched jobs, I’m beginning to get used to working for her, and in a couple of months she’ll be gone and I’ll have to start all over again with someone new.”
Emily tried to keep a bounce in her step, even though they’d slowed to a walk. “And you’re stressed about it?”
“Yes, but it’s good stress.”
“There is such a thing?”
“For sure. Change helps you grow, expands your horizons. It may be uncomfortable at the time, but it can lead to great things.” Jackie stopped and gave the dog a quick pat before resuming her stride. “Un-cute,” was her assessment of the animal’s owner once they were out of earshot.
“Maybe you need to expand your horizons and explore un-cute men,” Emily suggested.
Jackie cackled. “That kind of change, I don’t need. Besides, we were talking about you. How’s your resolution coming along?”
Emily thought about the summer dress hanging in her truck and picked up the pace. “Why do you ask?”
Jackie’s smile vanished. “I was just trying to make conversation. I know you were at the stables a couple of times this week and that you were in close quarters with those nasty cowboys.”
“How did you know that?”
Jackie turned and looked at her, the picture of innocence. “Because you told me.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Emily felt her friend’s hand on her arm, then a little tug. Jackie pulled her over to the side of the jogging path, by a cluster of trees. Emily scanned the way ahead, looking for the hottie that had attracted Jackie’s attention. She couldn’t see a dog anywhere, much less a scrumptious male owner.
She looked over at her friend, wondering what led to the current detour, and was surprised to discover an equal look of puzzlement on her pal’s face.
“Man, you’re on edge. I ask you a simple question and you practically bite my head off. Are you okay?”
Emily guzzled in air, while she batted away a pang of guilt. “Of course, I am. I just don’t want to talk about cowboys. It’s ancient history,” she told Jackie, keeping her feet moving by jogging in place.
“I still think you should talk to your mother.”
Emily’s runners kept moving, walking her right back onto the jogging path. “It’s not a good idea, Jackie.” She was not going to have this discussion. How many times had they gone over this territory? And what good would it do? Emily understood animals far better than she’d ever understood people. Herself included.
She sensed Jackie’s presence at her side again, blocking her escape. “Yeah, that’s what you keep saying. But you never say why. Hasn’t it occurred to you that all your problems with men stem from your father?”
Emily sighed. “You’ve been watching Doctor Phil again.”
“You don’t have to be a psychologist to see what is so obvious.”
She knew she wasn’t going to like the answer, but Emily felt compelled to ask the question, anyway. “And what is that?
“Dating cowboys isn’t your problem. It’s what those cowboys represent.”
“What they represent?” Emily hadn’t realized just how loud she’d spoken until a Canada goose waddled up and hissed at her. Don’t get mad at me, she felt like saying to the bird, it’s the woman beside me who’s causing the problem. And that woman kept right on talking.
“You keep going out with men that are like your father. Men who run off and leave you.”
“That’s nonsense. I date cowboys, or at least, I dated them in the past,” Emily corrected herself, “because those were the men I met. That’s it.”
Her final statement, as blunt as it was, had served the purpose. It got Jackie to hold her tongue. For a while. When Jackie spoke again, her voice was hushed, her tone apologetic.
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to your mother. Aren’t you the least bit curious about your dad?”
Emily reduced her stride, pulled over to the grass and stopped. “Of course I am. But the few times I’ve asked her about him, she closed down.”
“Maybe you need to build up to it more.”
“No, Jackie. You weren’t there. You didn’t see her face.” But Emily had. The look of hurt and embarrassment was embedded in her memory. “Anytime I get close to the topic, she turns away and starts puttering in the kitchen. It’s become this big issue that we can’t talk about.”
Jackie looped her arm around Emily's shoulders. “Oh, Em, I’m sorry. The two of you were always so close. You used to talk about everything.”
“Yeah.” Emily blinked to ward off the tears that threatened to surface.
“Hey, you can still talk to me,” Jackie whispered, giving her a squeeze.
She squeezed back. “Thanks, Jacks.”
It would have been a perfect Hallmark ending, if Jackie hadn’t started to sing You've Got a Friend. The country twang her friend added to the vocals certainly didn’t help the rendition. It was so corny it was funny, and Emily’s tears of sadness turned into tears of laughter as she joined in.
* * *
“On top of ol’ Smokey...”
Brandon sat astride his faithful horse, belting out the familiar song. He was starting to feel like a real cowboy. What did it matter that Smokey was the animal that all the children rode? Who cared that Sam had described the noble steed as a mere pet? To Brandon, he was the greatest thing since the invention of the combustion engine.
He admitted the day might have something to do with his exceptionally good mood. It was Friday, the day he was going to take Emily on a real date.
If she showed up.
She hadn’t exactly said yes, the last time he saw her. But then she hadn’t exactly said no, either. He’d stopped her before she could say much of anything, with a kiss that he’d felt right down to the heels of his cowboy boots.
He’d been in plays where he’d had to kiss his leading lady with passionate abandonment, and never felt so much as a twinge below his belt line. With Emily, everything was different. He responded to her with the intensity of a stallion during mating season. She felt so right in his arms, the way her breasts caressed his chest, the way her hips moved against his. Kissing her was the most erotic experience he’d ever had, and he’d been fully clothed at the time.
Ever since that lip-locking session in the pond, he’d been rehearsing his confession. In spite of the advice both Sam and his sister had given him, Brandon knew he had to tell Emily the truth. He couldn’t pretend to be Houston Saveloy indefinitely. Not if he wanted a real relationship with her.
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If only she wasn’t so stuck on cowboys.
As he maneuvered the horse around, he concentrated on the solution, rather than the problem. It didn’t matter what she thought of his alter ego. He was going to tell her who he really was. As soon as the opportunity presented itself.
He’d test the waters during their date. If he could steer the conversation in the right direction, he could make an opportunity happen. And he’d planned the perfect setting for it. A place where Emily would feel right at home.
Brandon pulled on the reins and brought Smokey to a stop in front of the barn.
“Ya done good,” Sam praised, offering the horse a carrot.
“Yeah, I’m feeling much more comfortable in the saddle.”
Sam squinted up at him. “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout yur ridin’. I’m talkin’ ‘bout yur gettin’ Doctor Em t’ wear a dress.”
Sam tilted his head to the right. Brandon took the hint and looked in the same direction.
There she was, standing alone at the top of the hill, the bottom of her dress swirling gently around her knees.
Brandon urged the horse forward. Damn but she looked good, soft and alluring, her glorious hair cascading down her shoulders in a gentle wave. A grin spread across his face. She’d dressed up for him. The date was on.
“Watch it, son,” Sam called after him. “Watch yur seat. Ya gotta move with the horse, or else yur gonna end up...”
“Uhhhhggggg.” Brandon gave the reins a sharp tug and Smokey came to a screeching halt. The sound of Sam’s feet pounding in the dirt closed in fast.
“Okay, son?”
Brandon winced.
“Thought so. Ya gotta watch yur postin’, boy, or else yull bang yur family’s jewels against the horn o’ the saddle.”
Brandon eased a leg over the horse and dismounted with a grunt. “Yeah, I think I just figured that out.”
Sam chuckled and clapped him on the back. “It’ll pass. Just remember, it don’t matter how purdy yur lady friend is. Yull be no good t’ her if ya damage yurself in that department.”
Brandon nodded and, with as much dignity as he could muster, limped over to his date.
Crazy for Cowboy Page 6
