A Cowboy to Remember

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A Cowboy to Remember Page 7

by Barbara Ankrum


  After calling home to let her parents know they didn’t have to worry about her flying in a helicopter through the storm, she’d changed into one of Deke’s old shirts and sweatpants while her clothes dried in the drier. Jake had requisitioned a pair of khaki shorts and a too-tight T-shirt that clung to every ripped muscle in his torso and curved around his well-defined shoulders and biceps, as they’d helped Deke get dinner on.

  Really, Jake? Is there anything you don’t look good in?

  Just contemplating the sleeping arrangements for the night was scrambling her brain. She’d actually put the olive oil away in the freezer after dressing the salad. Deke had gently retrieved it without a word.

  Embarrassing.

  It was the kiss, or the prospect of the kiss, that had her all hot and bothered, even though, just to torture her, Jake had made no mention of it since the river.

  Except in every look, or accidental touch, every gaze that lingered on her mouth.

  What if that’s not what I want?

  What if it is?

  A rush of longing twirled her insides. She’d agreed to his stakes because... well, because... she was an idiot. Only a fool didn’t know where a kiss like that might lead. The one they’d shared at the river had exploded like a summer wildfire. Kissing him again was juggling lit matches and gasoline—a recipe for disaster.

  She stared out the picture window at the rain slanting against the driveway and forming little puddles. A jagged streak of lightning ripped across the sky, followed by a swell of thunder.

  She’d told him she’d sworn off men and that was true. The thought of dating strange men—or rather, men who were strangers—made her want to crawl in bed and throw the covers over her head. Case in point—God’s gift to law, Peter Moreno. And she supposed there were girls who actually fell for men like him. And who was she to talk? Not so long ago, she’d fallen for someone equally self-involved, though much better at disguising it.

  Oh, yes, there was heartbreak aplenty out there for anyone in the market for it, but she felt like she’d already had her share.

  And yet, here was Jake. Beautiful, amazing Jake, busting in on her quiet, arranged retreat from life on his own white horse. Jake—with his own wounds from the war still sabotaging him when he was least expecting it—possibly believing he could repair what was broken inside her.

  But she was the fixer. The good girl. The one who didn’t cause trouble or need help. She always had been. It hadn’t occurred to her until much later in life she couldn’t fix anyone. First, there’d been her drunk of a father who couldn’t be saved and had died in spite of her best attempts to rescue him from himself. Then Jake, who she’d driven away into the army out of pure fear. There was the U.S. Equestrian Team and, of course, Kendy, most of all. And, finally, Kyle, whose obsessive nature demanded perfection, something she most definitely couldn’t deliver.

  Her real failure with Kyle was not being able to see what was happening until it was too late. Her judgment had been skewed by her need to please him—her mentor. A pathetic weakness she vowed never to indulge in with a man again.

  The accident with Kendy seemed merely the culmination of all the bad decisions she’d made, a place for her to point and say, “See there? That’s exactly what you deserve for failing every single person in your life.”

  But she’d given Jake fair warning, hadn’t she? She told him she wasn’t available, hadn’t she? Was it so wrong for a thirty-year-old woman to crave a kiss? A touch? To be held by a man who gave a damn about her?

  Yes, oh, yes, when the man was Jake.

  But as he leaned close to her to add silverware to the place setting, her temperature shot up and her will to be reasonable floundered. He smelled like rain and sweet mountain air and something indefinable—a scent that inspired thoughts of sweaty sheets and long, slow kisses in the dark.

  Stop right there.

  Too late.

  The moment the thought occurred, she caught him staring at the pulse in her throat which seemed to have gone rogue, clamoring against her skin like a firehouse alarm. Then his gaze slid up to hers and lingered for a moment before he smiled and picked up his conversation with Deke.

  Dear Lord.

  At dinner, she discovered Deke was, indeed, a gourmet cook. What he did with the fish was every bit as good as anything she’d tasted in downtown Manhattan, at some of the best restaurants in the city. Everything was exquisitely done and delicious, from the souffléd baby potatoes he’d grown in his garden to the heirloom tomato, mozzarella, and basil salad, and key lime pie. Olivia moaned over it all and decided then and there she needed to attend cooking school.

  They drank excellent wine and talked about everything from solar roadways, to the Middle East and everything in between. Olivia enjoyed watching the two men debate, occasionally adding her two cents, which was a big step for her, considering her two cents had been so devalued over the last half a decade.

  At moments like these, she understood exactly how much of herself she’d shoved down while being with Kyle. And how much she loved the freedom of speaking her own mind again. The slow, insidious loss of her very self to her marriage was something she was only now beginning to grasp. What still troubled her was how she’d allowed it to happen at all.

  “That garden is doing well,” Jake said. “You might need another quarter-acre dug at the rate you’re going.”

  “There’s only one of me, here. I’ll have to open a vegetable stand soon as it is. With the short growing season, I’ve learned to put up what I can’t eat.” He turned to Olivia. “Did Jake tell you he dug out that whole garden for me when he stayed with me after he came home?”

  There was so much she didn’t know about Jake. It didn’t surprise her that he’d taken refuge here after leaving the army. Deke was his only living relative.

  “He’s very lucky to have you, Deke. And a place like this to come home to.”

  “That’s a fact,” Jake said, smiling at Deke. “Now if we could just find you a nice lady for you to share it with. I met a woman up in Livingston named Maria who cleans houses and she’s looking for a position—”

  Deke sent him a look she imagined had passed between them many times. “I made my choice years ago, my boy. I’m not about to change courses now.”

  “I suppose not,” he said, “but I keep trying.” Monday came and laid her head in his lap. “I think this is her polite way of saying she’s had enough conversation.” He got up and clipped her leash on and slipped a rain slicker over his head “You two stay dry. We’ll be back in a few.”

  Olivia began clearing the dishes with Deke, sad that the evening was ending. It had been a long time since she’d shared good food and company like this, outside of her family.

  She studied Jake’s uncle as he puttered in the kitchen, rinsing dishes. He looked content. He’d made his peace with aloneness. Was this what she had to look forward to someday? A life alone? No one to share it with? No children to love?

  “How long have you lived out here?” she asked.

  “Better part of fifteen years,” he said. “I know. It’s not for everyone. It was even hard for me at first, though I craved the solitude. I was married once. Did Jake tell you that?”

  She shook her head.

  “Her name was Emma. We were married eight years. I loved her very much. She was beautiful, like you.” A thousand memories slid by him as Olivia watched and each one seemed to catch him off guard. “She wanted children. Would have been a magnificent mother. But... she... passed away one day while I was otherwise occupied, developing microchips or some other foolish thing. She fell on some ice in front of our home. Hit her head and that was that.”

  “Oh, I’m... I’m so sorry, Deke.”

  “I could never replace her, you see.” He took a stack of plates from her and set them in the sink. “Now, I have my birds and my work and my cooking. I might even buy a goat or two in my old age. Learn to make cheese.” He laughed, then glanced at her expression. “Sounds lonel
y to you, yes? Sometimes,” he confessed, “it is. I look at you and Jake and I think, it was only a moment ago that I was your age with my life in front of me. But in fact, it’s mostly behind me now. It seems to spin by faster and faster each year. I suppose it’s none of my business, you and Jake. And you can tell me so, because I can be downright nosy, considering how I protect my own privacy.”

  She bit her lip. “Go on.”

  “He is like a son to me. All the family I have left.”

  Olivia lifted her glass of wine and took a gulp, sure he was about to warn her off Jake, beg her not to break his heart.

  “Has he told you why he left the army?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “There was a crash. His helicopter was shot down at the end of a mission. He managed to make a hard landing, but three of the men aboard were killed in the fire that ensued. He managed to pull two others free, and he pretty much walked away from it, except for a badly broken leg. His tour was up and he left the army. They gave him a Medal of Valor, but he put it away that day and won’t look at it. Thinks it negates the sacrifices of the men who died. But in truth, I think Jake was just dead tired of war. He came home to find himself again. To find happiness again.” He paused and dried his hands on a towel. “I think he came back for you.”

  Her lips parted. Had he? That couldn’t be. He’d never said... and besides, “We’re just... we’ve always been friends, Deke.”

  “In all these years, you’re the first woman he’s ever brought here. In fact, you’re the only woman he’s ever talked to me about, which means you’re very special to him. So, forgive me for saying this, but whatever is standing between you and him, think hard before you let him go.” He gestured to his beautiful, empty kitchen. “Because some of us only get one chance.”

  She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat that clogged any ability to respond. Deke, who had shut himself up here in the mountains, had effectively eliminated any hope for a second chance after his wife’s death. Isolation was her own instinct, as well. She wondered if Deke regretted his choices now, despite his making peace with them.

  Outside the kitchen window, she caught sight of Jake, walking head-down in the rain. Beside him, Monday leapt for joy in the puddles of water and ran circles around him. He was laughing at the dog and, in spite of herself, she smiled, too.

  The older man smiled and nodded. “Well, I said my peice. I am going to retire for the night. You two can work out your sleeping arrangements without a chaperone, I trust.”

  “I think so.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “This has been a wonderful day. One of the best I can remember in a long, long time. Thank you.”

  “The debt’s mine, Olivia. You can’t know the pleasure this day has brought me. Good night, my dear.”

  Jake found Olivia sitting by the fire, crackling in the fireplace. Up in this altitude, even August nights got chilly. He stripped out of his rain slicker, hung it on the peg near the door and joined her on the generous cushions that circled the hearth. Monday gave Olivia’s face a quick hit-and-run lick before settling down beside the fire to nap.

  She laughed and handed Jake a beer. “So...” she said, “Deke’s had quite enough of us for one day. He’s gone to bed.”

  “Good call. He looked tired.” Jake reclined on the pillows and leaned back against the couch.

  “You worry about him.” Not a question, but a statement of fact.

  Jake wiped a hand down the dampness on his face. “He would kill me for saying it. But I do, all alone up here...”

  “I think the feeling is mutual, but for different reasons.”

  “No doubt. I gave him plenty to worry about over the years.” He settled down close to her, watching the blaze snap before them. The fragrance of the wood smoke reminded him of all the campfires they’d had at ‘The Rocks’ when they were young. Roasting marshmallows or hot dogs or just staring into the flames. Funny how a scent could take him back.

  Olivia’s scent did that for him, too. Her sweet, soap and water fragrance, mixed often, though not at the moment, with leather and horses. No, right now, being this close to her made him hungry, as she had been all day. She was sexy as hell. Why couldn’t he seem to think of anything else but touching her when he was around her?

  Could have something to do with the fact he’d been essentially celibate for the past year while getting his business off the ground. He’d been too busy to think about much else. But now, with her close enough to touch, it was all he wanted to do.

  “So,” he said vaguely, “where were we?”

  She sent him a knowing look. “Talking about Deke’s garden?”

  “Yeah... no,” he said, sliding a hand up her arm. “We exhausted that topic.”

  “Hmm... funny, I can’t—”

  He rolled over closer with a slow grin. “Is it coming back now?”

  “Oh. You mean the kiss. I was wondering if you’d forgotten.”

  “Wondering or hoping?”

  “Not hoping,” she said, with an uncertain smile.

  Her words stirred the already spinning eddy of heat, dangerously, inside him. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, then cupped the back of her head in his palm and pulled her gently toward him. “Good.” He brought his mouth close to hers, considering a kiss there, but settled, instead for an exchange of breath as she closed her eyes and waited. “Because I thought about kissing you here. But then I thought—”

  Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him.

  “—that’s too obvious. Maybe here would be better,” he said, touching a damp finger to the dip between her collarbones as he lowered his attention to her throat where he brushed his jaw against the sensitive skin below her ear. A long, slow shiver traveled down her.

  “That would be fine...”

  He tasted the hollow there with his tongue, careful not to turn it into a full-fledged kiss. Her skin was hot and quivering and she braced her hand on his shoulder.

  “Fine,” he said, “is not a word I’d use to describe the kind of kiss I have in mind.”

  “Are you gonna kiss me or torture me?” she whispered, but did nothing to impede his exploration.

  “Torture is such a harsh word...” He grinned, trailing a finger between the buttons of her shirt and skimming it lower until the first ones popped open. She grabbed his hand, stopping him. Then he rolled over on top of her, until he’d pressed her down against the pillows behind her.

  She whispered, “We... we shouldn’t... you know...”

  Disappointment tugged at his brow. “You reneging on the bet?”

  “No.” Meaning, he could kiss her, but beyond that...

  Jake pressed is hips into hers, just so there was no mistaking his opinion on the subject. He dropped a lingering kiss onto the curve of her breast just above her bra, brushed the backs of his fingers against the spot, then, with hooded eyes, let his gaze roam over her face. “Your call, Canaday.”

  He gave her a few heartbeats to cave. He watched the battle going on inside her. Yes. No. What the hell? Maybe he was going too fast with her. Pushing her too hard. Maybe she just didn’t want him.

  When she said nothing, he rolled off her. “Okay, then. I’ll take the couch tonight. You take the spare room. Get some sleep. It was a real nice day.”

  Her lips parted and her eyes filled.

  And though it just about broke him to do it, he stood and left her there, sprawled on the pillows, as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall.

  Olivia sat up, feeling disoriented, overheated, and angry with herself. Why did she have to stop him? Why hadn’t she just let him kiss her like he’d wanted to?

  Gah! This was exactly why it she’d sworn off men. Because she didn’t even know how to behave around them anymore. And, for God’s sake, this was Jake. Jake, who would never hurt her. Jake, who was no boy anymore, but a man—a gorgeous, sexy man—who wanted to kiss her and hold her and—she closed her eyes�
��treat her the way she’d always longed to be treated.

  She pounded a fist into the pillow beside her and felt a tear leak down her cheek. What was she so afraid of? That he would kiss her and she would like it too much?

  That he would want a commitment from her?

  She stopped breathing.

  Yes.

  If she dared to imagine Jake could have possibly come back to make good on the pinky-swear they’d made twelve years ago, that he might want to marry her—

  Deke’s words came back to her. Whatever is standing between you two, think hard before you let him go. He came back for you.

  How could she let him go when she’d never had him? Whatever Deke thought he knew about them was pure speculation.

  No. That was just Deke being over-protective of Jake. Not wanting her to hurt him. And she couldn’t blame him. Jake had stayed here three months after the army, just pulling his head together.

  So, Jake had chosen this week to come back home to check on his uncle because it just happened to coincide with the Big Marietta Fair and the silly promise they’d made. And they were friends. Maybe he was hoping they’d be friends with benefits. People did that, didn’t they?

  But he didn’t want to marry her.

  Ridiculous.

  Not only had he laughed at the idea when they’d been swimming, but he hadn’t hinted about anything more serious than fulfilling a wager since then.

  No, he wanted sex. With her. And what was wrong with that? He’d been nothing but playful and sweet, and what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want to let Jake Lassen kiss her any freaking place he wanted to? They were, after all, both grown-ass adults and... and...

  Her whole body ached for him.

  She shook her head and got to her feet. But, she’d blown it. The moment had passed. Just another lost opportunity in her long history of lost opportunities.

  Olivia Canaday strikes again.

  A few hours later, Jake woke from the nightmare in a deep, cold sweat, thrashing in the tangled sheet covering him as if it were trying to tug him back into the fiery crash of that chopper, toward the sound of the men inside, screaming.

 

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