One Tall, Dusty Cowboy (Men of the West Book 29)

by Stella Bagwell

  From his brief exchange with the blonde beauty, he certainly didn’t think she’d have any trouble holding her own with Bart. She was the first woman in a long time that had rejected his advances, and she’d hardly been uncertain about it.

  Go find the nearest mirror and tell the guy looking back at you that he’s not quite the Romeo he thinks he is.

  Lilly Lockett’s parting remark still had enough power to sting him. But on the other hand, he admired her spunk. And Rafe always did like a challenge.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I don’t think Lilly is the sort of woman who runs from anything. She’ll handle Gramps.” And me, he thought wryly.

  “I’m glad you think so. Now tell me about the branding. Did the men find more stray calves to add to the spring tally?”

  “Fifty-two additional head. They were over on the Antelope Range, on the flats near the river. All of them were packing good weight.”

  “That’s a nice find. Have you tagged or branded them yet?”

  “No, sir. I plan to start on them before the end of the week. We’ll do the bunch over on the Salt Cedar trail first.” Rafe quickly drained the last of his coffee then put the cup down on the coffee table. “I’d better get back out to the branding fire. I’ll see you at supper.”

  As he started out of the office, his father called out, “Rafe? Did you come all the way upstairs just for a cup of coffee?”

  Damn! Meeting Lilly Lockett on the staircase must have distracted him more than he thought. “Oh, yeah. I wanted to talk to you about those horses Finn has been lobbying for. Is he going to get them or not? The hands are hurting for more mounts. Three are sidelined with bone chips and two more are being treated for colic and one with a shoulder injury.”

  “Have you talked to Finn about this?”

  Frustrated, Rafe slapped his gloves against the palm of his hand. “Hell, yes. He says he’ll come up with more. But damn it, Dad, he’s so caught up with the foaling mares he forgets that there’s cattle to be taken care of around here. It’s already the first week of May. We can’t do the rest of spring roundup without horses.”

  “Have you talked with your brother today?”

  “I went by the foaling barn but he wasn’t there. I tried his cell phone but he didn’t answer.”

  “He’s probably over at the J Bar S. He promised Sassy he’d help her with one of their horses. I don’t know exactly what it was about but you know how Finn feels about his sister. He’s not about to disappoint her.”

  A little more than a year ago, it was revealed that Orin had sired a daughter during a brief, illicit affair. Not only had it shocked Orin, who’d been unaware of the child, it had stunned Rafe and his four brothers to learn they had a half-sister. But learning their father had been unfaithful to their mother had only been a part of the revelation. The whole secret of the woman’s pregnancy had been kept for twenty-four years with hush money doled out by Bart.

  No doubt the story had been told and retold from one end of Carson City to the other.

  “I love Sassy, too,” Rafe said. “But Finn needs to get his priorities straight! If he doesn’t have time to take care of the working remuda, then maybe you ought to find someone who can!”

  Rising to his feet, Orin leveled a look of warning at him. “Rafe! You’re stepping out of line.”

  Rafe stood his ground. “Sorry, Dad, but I’m stepping exactly where I should be stepping. This whole matter reflects on my job and I’m not going to let anyone make me look like a slacker!”

  With a weary shake of his head, Orin asked quietly, “Does this always have to come down to you, Rafe?”

  “I’m thinking about this ranch. Not myself. Maybe someday you and everybody else around here will understand that.”

  He left the office before his father could say more and once outside, his long stride carried him toward a group of wooden corrals, where he’d left his horse tethered to a hitching rail. As he mounted the blue roan and kicked the gelding into a lope, he realized it was a waste of time to try to argue his case with his father. Neither Orin nor his brothers really understood what drove or pushed him. They all believed he was self-seeking. They had no clue that every cell of his heart had long ago been poured into this land and the animals that roamed it.

  * * *

  The next morning, Lilly was relieved when she entered the Silver Horn ranch house and made it up to Bart’s room without running into Rafe. Not that she’d been expecting him to be lurking around, just waiting to see her again. But even the thought of a chance meeting with the man ruffled her nerves. Especially after the fourteen-hour shift she’d put in yesterday. One traumatic injury after another had come through the E.R. doors over the course of the night, and she’d finally crawled into bed just before daylight, mentally drained and physically exhausted.

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Bart,” she said a few minutes later as she urged the man to make another repetitive move with his arm. “Use all your strength. Keep your hand against mine and try to shove me backwards.”

  The white-haired man chuckled. “I’d never shove a lovely lady like you, Lilly.”

  Lilly couldn’t help but smile. Everyone had warned her that Bart Calhoun was a hateful, crotchety bastard of a man, but from the moment she’d met him, he’d been a perfect gentleman. She only hoped his manners didn’t change before his therapy was finished.

  “Well, just pretend that I’m someone you don’t like,” she told him. “And don’t worry, I’m strong. So put some power in that arm.”

  He did as she asked and this time she could feel a bit more resistance as he strained to do the exercise.

  “I’ve never been helpless in my life, Lilly. And I don’t like it. Up until I had the stroke, I still had enough punch to knock a man flat on his back. But now...” He trailed off with a wistful sigh. “Things change when a man gets older.”

  Moving to his left foot, she motioned for him to push against her cupped hands. “You can’t blame your condition on your age, Bart. From what your family tells me, you like Kentucky bourbon and arguing. That’s not a good combination for a man with high blood pressure.”

  “Well, I do have my faults,” he sheepishly admitted. “All of us men do, you know. I’m just thankful to God that my speech wasn’t affected. It would be hell if I couldn’t communicate.”

  Lilly figured this man didn’t necessarily need words to communicate. He was very much like his grandson, who expressed most of his thoughts through his eyes.

  “Or heck if you couldn’t argue,” she teased as she continued to put his leg through a series of motions. “I hope your speech wasn’t spared for that reason.”

  He didn’t say anything and after a few moments she glanced up to see he was studying her with a thoughtful eye. “Are you married, Lilly?”

  She cast him a coy glance. “No. Why? Do you have matrimony on your mind?”

  He chuckled. “Well, you’d certainly tempt a man to stand in front of the preacher. But no. I’ve only loved one woman in my life and she died twenty years ago. I can’t imagine myself with another wife.”

  His sentiment touched her more than he could ever know. Her parents had been married for nearly thirty years, yet she’d never seen much affection expressed between them. Certainly not the kind of love or devotion that Bart felt for his late wife. After all these years, Lilly wasn’t sure what had kept her parents together. Her father, Ron Lockett, had always been a quiet, hardworking man who was content to live modestly. On the other hand, her mother, Faye, was never content and was always demanding her husband to change and follow her wants and wishes, which caused a constant clash of differences between the two.

  As a child, her parents’ dysfunctional marriage had affected Lilly deeply. By the time she’d entered her teen years, she’d sworn that her life was going to be different. She would love
the man she married and he would love her equally. There wouldn’t be arguing, threats or tears. But now, years later, she’d learned that love wasn’t that easy to find and life had a way of producing tears.

  “I’ve never been married,” she told Bart.

  “How come? You don’t like men?”

  She let out a silent sigh. “I like them. I just haven’t found one I like enough to share the rest of my life with. I’m particular, I suppose.”

  “Particular is good. That means you’re smart.”

  Smart? In many ways Lilly supposed she was smart. She had a good education and she’d been told by many of her peers that she was an excellent and intelligent nurse. But in her personal life, she’d made mistakes she was still trying to forget.

  She glanced over at the large window and a view of the distant desert hills. The Silver Horn was known far and wide for its wealth, horses and cowboys. And though she wasn’t familiar with ranch life, she had to admit this place, and the family who ran it, intrigued her.

  “Did you live on this ranch when you got married?” she asked Bart.

  “Yes. But it wasn’t the place it is now. My father started the Horn back in 1909 from just a bare spot—where the barns are now. Over time as his herd multiplied, he bought more land. Eventually, his profit grew and he sank part of it in lucrative investments. That’s how it all got started. By the time he died in 1960 I was in my thirties, so I took over and tried to follow in his footsteps.”

  “Well, your father clearly taught you well. It’s a beautiful place,” Lilly told him. “You must be very proud.”

  “I’m more proud of my grandsons,” he said, then added, “When I get better I’m going to personally show you around the ranch. How would you like that, Lilly?”

  Glancing around, she smiled at the elder Calhoun. “It’s a date.”

  Bart chuckled and something about the smug sound reminded Lilly of Rafe. Like grandfather, like grandson? No. Bart had clearly loved his wife, whereas Rafe would never settle for one woman.

  * * *

  A half hour later Bart had completed his therapy for the day and Lilly was driving down the long drive that led away from the house, when a horse and rider suddenly galloped up beside the car.

  Slightly panicked by the nearness of the animal to her vehicle door, she jammed on the brakes and the small car came to a jarring halt in the middle of the road.

  By the time she’d collected herself enough to look around, Rafe had already leaped from the saddle and was standing next to the door, motioning for her to lower the window.

  As soon as the glass was no longer a screen between them, she blasted, “Are you out of your mind? You could have killed both of us!”

  Laughing at her discomfiture, he said, “Roscoe knew what he was doing. He could thread through a stand of brush without ever getting a scratch.”

  His grinning face made her want to groan and laugh at the same time. “I’m glad your Roscoe knew what he was doing because you certainly didn’t!”

  “Since you don’t really know me, I’m not going to take that comment to heart.”

  His gray eyes were gliding over her face like slow, searching fingers, touching each contour of each feature. And suddenly she was acutely aware of her bare face and the messy bun pinned atop her head. “You can take it any way you’d like, Mr. Calhoun. But I need to be on my way. Would you like to get to your reason for this dramatic stop?”

  “I wanted to see you again. That’s the reason.”

  Her nostrils flared. “I should have guessed it wasn’t to inquire about your grandfather’s health.”

  Behind him, the blue roan nudged his hand and he affectionately curled his arm around the horse’s nose and tucked it against his side.

  “So how is Gramps doing?”

  “I’m proud of him. He’s trying very hard.”

  “Gramps never was a quitter. Has he been giving you a hard time?”

  The way he asked the question made it sound as though he’d be glad to intervene on her behalf. Like a gallant knight ready to defend her. The notion touched her and she couldn’t stop a small smile from curling her lips.

  “Contrary to what you or others might think, your grandfather has been very sweet to me. Even when I’m ordering him to do more.”

  Disbelief appeared in his eyes. “Dad implied you were a miracle worker. He must be right.”

  She shouldn’t let his casual compliment affect her, but it did. Her job was her life. To be praised for her effort, even by Rafe Calhoun, felt good.

  He and Roscoe drew closer and suddenly Lilly couldn’t keep her eyes off him. There was something so vibrant and male about his rugged features that she forgot to breathe and very nearly forgot to think.

  “Thanks, but I’m just doing my job,” she told him. “And your grandfather and I just happened to hit it off.”

  Leaning his head through the open window, he said, “Well, actually, I had another motive for stopping you.”

  For some ridiculous reason her gaze settled on his lips and immediately the image of kissing him danced into her thoughts. Would he taste as rough and tough and male as he looked? she wondered. Oh, Lord, she had to quit looking. Had to quit fantasizing.

  “And what was that?” she asked.

  He grinned and Lilly decided the slightly crooked line of his teeth matched the rest of him. Raw, natural and untamed.

  “I wanted to let you know that I took your advice and had a talk with the man in the mirror. But he didn’t know a Romeo.”

  “You’re incorrigible!”

  He chuckled. “I can dance, too. Why don’t we go out this evening and I’ll show you?”

  Inwardly groaning, she asked herself how she’d managed to get herself into this predicament. Instead of stopping on the road, she should’ve floored the gas pedal and left the man and his horse in the dust.

  “Sorry, but I have to work tonight.”

  “Okay, then tomorrow night,” he persisted.

  “I have to work then, too.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Is there a night you don’t have to work?”

  If she lied about her work schedule, she might stand a chance of getting rid of this man’s attentions once and for all. But lying to Rafe didn’t appeal to her and if she was being totally honest with herself, she didn’t want to get rid of him. For the first time in years, he was making her feel excited. Making her remember that she was more than a nurse; she was a woman.

  Her heart suddenly jumped into a fast, reckless rhythm. “Monday is my night off.”

  “Great! I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  She gave him her address, then seeing he had no way to write it down, she asked, “Will you remember that?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

  Lifting a hand in farewell, he moved away from the car and swung himself into the saddle and all Lilly could do was watch him gallop away. What was she getting herself into? she wondered.

  And why couldn’t she resist finding out...?

  Chapter Two

  For the next three days, Lilly vacillated between wanting to kick herself or pat herself on the back for being brave enough to accept a date with Rafe Calhoun.

  Since the morning he’d run her down on the road, like some scene out of a Western movie, she’d fought against the urge to ask around about the man. Most people in her circle of friends and coworkers didn’t rub elbows with the rich Calhoun family, so whatever they told her about Rafe would be little more than hearsay.

  Ironically, she was the only one who’d had any actual association to the family. Seven years ago, Rafe’s mother, Claudia, had befriended her when she’d desperately needed someone to lean on. Lilly had never told anyone about the chance meeting between her and the matriarch of the Silver Horn ranch, or the friend
ship that had resulted from it. That time in her life was too painful to share with anyone. And Claudia had since died. But Lilly’s friendship with the woman still lived in her heart and that had been the main reason she’d agreed to take on the job of Bart Calhoun’s therapy.

  Normally, the hands of the clock spun too quickly for Lilly. Work kept her rushing to find enough time in the day to get necessary chores around the house done and errands about town completed. But as Monday evening arrived, it felt to Lilly as though time began to crawl.

  By the time Rafe finally arrived a few minutes before seven, she’d worked herself up into a nervous frenzy. But in spite of her nerves, she did her best to appear cool and collected when she answered the door.

  “Good evening, Lilly.”

  “Hello, Rafe. Would you like to come in?”

  “I’d love to.”

  She opened the door wider and as he stepped over the threshold Lilly was a bit overwhelmed by the change in his appearance. Instead of worn chaps and a battered hat, he was dressed in dark, Western-cut slacks. A crisp white shirt was buttoned at his throat and topped with a bolo tie fashioned from a turquoise rock, while a black felt hat dangled from his hand. If James Bond were a cowboy, he’d have to look like Rafe, Lilly decided.

  He handed her a long, slim box full of expensive chocolates. “I hope you like sweets.”

  “Unfortunately, I love them. Thank you.” She put the box down on a nearby coffee table then gestured for him to take a seat. “Do we have time for a drink? I have tea or coffee. But nothing to make a cocktail.”

  “If I’d known you were going to be this hospitable I would have made a point of coming earlier,” he joked, then pushed back the cuff of his shirt to peer at a gold watch on his wrist. “But I don’t want us to lose our reservations. I’ll take a rain check on the drink, if you don’t mind.”

  “Surely. Just let me get my bag and wrap.”

  She left for the bedroom and when she returned with her things, Rafe was standing in front of a wall table where several photos of family and friends were arranged on a white lace doily.