A Husband in Wyoming

by Lynnette Kent

  “But he hasn’t shared what it was?”

  “No. And I wouldn’t get my hopes up, if I were you.” His stern blue gaze focused on her face. “Dylan keeps his secrets. He seems easygoing, accessible. But underneath, he’s got some solid shields. Nobody gets all the way inside.”

  She could see how much that bothered him. As a minister, he might wish his brother would confide in him on difficult issues.

  But to her chagrin, before she could say anything, Jess was ambushed by a huge yawn. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to hide it.

  Grinning, Garrett straightened up. “The kids are usually ready to start their riding about nine o’clock, after breakfast and cleanup. It’s not six yet. You could probably grab at least a couple hours’ sleep before then. Susannah will be glad to make you something to eat when you’re ready.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” Her eyes watered with weariness. “I appreciate the coffee.”

  “I’m up early every morning. Join me whenever you like.”

  Jess shuffled to her room, closed the door and fell facedown on the bed with her feet hanging off the edge because she still had her sneakers on.

  The next thing she heard was a knock on the door. “Still alive in there?”

  Dylan’s voice.

  “Sure,” Jess mumbled, and could barely hear herself. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Sure. I’ll be out in a few.”

  “Great. There’s a pair of boots in the kitchen with your name on it.”

  A fast shower got her blood moving and within fifteen minutes she had dressed and braided her hair. Makeup posed a dilemma—sunscreen moisturizer, of course, but did she require the full work-up for a day on the ranch? Or should she keep in mind that this was a professional assignment and prepare accordingly?

  She settled for mascara and lipstick, though the face in the mirror seemed unfamiliar. “Nobody will notice,” she assured herself. “This isn’t Manhattan.”

  In the kitchen, Susannah slid a plate in front of her as she sipped her second cup of coffee at the bar. “There’s more if you want it.” Her smile was as sunny as the morning pouring through the big windows. “Enjoy.” She looked over at Amber, sitting next to Jess. “Finish your cereal, sweetie. Then we’ll go outside.”

  The atmosphere in the kitchen was cozy as Jess attacked a cheese omelet with crispy bacon and the best biscuits she’d ever eaten anywhere. Susannah seemed constantly busy—cleaning counters, putting away some dishes, taking out others. Jess felt as if she’d stepped into a TV show, one of those family sitcoms from the sixties where the mother stayed home and took care of the kids while the dad went off to work and made lots of money to keep them all comfortable. Where everybody loved everybody else and disagreements were settled with words, not fists.

  A world she’d never lived in and wasn’t sure really existed...until now.

  Pushing her empty plate away, Jess groaned. “I’ll be going home ten pounds heavier on Sunday. The plane will probably crash from my weight.”

  Susannah laughed. “You’d be surprised how much you work off just walking around. And Dylan said you’ve got a riding lesson, so that’s even more calories. Your boots are over by the door.” She turned to her daughter. “Are you finished, Amber? Ready to go outside?”

  “Yes! Yes!” The little girl started scrambling off the chair before her mother could get there. In her hurry, she unbalanced the high stool. “Mama!”

  On reflex, Jess reached out to scoop Amber up before she hit the floor. “Phew,” she said, cradling the warm body against hers. She’d never held a young child this close in her life. “Gotta be careful,” she said, a little breathless.

  Amber wriggled hard. “Down. Let me down.”

  Jess put her feet on the floor, making sure she was steady. “There you go.”

  “Good catch. Thanks.” Susannah took her daughter’s hand. “Outside for you. Gotta run off some energy.”

  Watching them walk hand in hand across the sun-streaked wooden floor, Jess was struck again by the sensation that she’d stumbled into a strange, incomprehensible new world. “Alice in Wonderland,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.”

  “What’s that?” Dylan stood leaning against the frame of the dining room door. “Susannah said you were here.”

  He was so damn appealing, with that engaging grin and the twinkle in those dark eyes. He’d already been working this morning, and his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms tanned by the sun and sculpted by hard work. The open throat of his plaid shirt, his broad shoulders under slightly damp cloth, the slim jeans riding low on his narrow hips...

  A bolt of lust drove straight through Jess’s body. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, clenching her fists against the force of it.

  “You okay?” Dylan said, straightening up. “Maybe you need some more rest.” He started toward her.

  She held up a hand to ward him off. “I’m great. So what’s up with these boots?”

  * * *

  “THIS IS CASH.” Dylan led Jess to the horse standing by the corral fence. “As in, Johnny Cash.”

  She didn’t stand too close. “A black horse. Naturally.”

  “Come stroke his neck. He’s as quiet as can be.” He saw her swallow hard before she took the step that would let her reach Cash’s side. “You haven’t been around animals much, I guess.”

  “No. Pets and foster kids don’t always mix well.” She ran her palm along Cash’s sleek throat. “He’s smooth. Warm.” Her nose wrinkled. “And he smells funny.”

  “Horses have their own scent. It’s not Chanel, but it’s one of my favorites.” Dylan leaned close to Cash’s face and took a deep breath. “Mmm.” The horse blinked but didn’t move. “See—he’s really calm.” He took a brush from the bucket he held and handed it to Jess. “Why don’t you give him a brushing?”

  Raising a skeptical eyebrow, she gazed at the brush. “How is that done, exactly?”

  She got the hang of the process quickly enough, once he showed her the short, outward flicks that worked best for getting rid of dirt. “I’ve cleaned his feet already, so you won’t have to do that,” Dylan told her.

  Her big eyes widened. “You clean their feet?”

  “Even with shoes, their soles are softer than you might think. We make sure there are no rocks stuck in there to bruise them, no sores or other injuries. Now we can go get the tack.”

  In the tack room, he pointed out Cash’s gear. “I’ll bring the bridle and blanket. You can carry the saddle,” he said, teasing her a little bit.

  “Right.” Jess walked gamely to the rack he’d indicated, grabbed the horn and the back rim of the seat and pulled.

  Luckily, he was standing right behind her when she staggered under twenty-five-plus pounds of leather. Her body pressed against his, and Dylan pulled in a deep breath even as he clamped his hands on her waist to keep her steady. “Whoa, there. I thought you’d tell me what I could do with that saddle.”

  She blew an irritated breath off her lower lip. “I should have. But it’s your equipment I dropped. I guess you can deal with it.” Stepping over the saddle, she walked to the door before looking back. “I’ll be outside with Cash.”

  When he followed her into the corral—carrying the saddle under one arm, the bridle over his shoulder and the blanket in his other hand—she stood near the horse’s head, touching his nose with her fingertips.

  She glanced up as he arrived beside her. “So soft. And he doesn’t bite.” Her smile, when her gaze returned to Cash’s face, was sweet and young. Without makeup, she seemed more approachable, easier to accept.

  Like someone he might have gone to school with. Dated. Even married.

  “He’s a good boy.” Dylan slung the saddle blanket onto the horse one-handed, straightened it out and then placed the saddle. “Cash turned twenty this spring.”

  “Is that old for a horse? They race three-year-olds in the Kentucky Derby, right?�
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  “Right.” He bent to tighten the cinch. “I wouldn’t race him across the ranch, though he’d probably go for me if I asked. But walking you around, he’ll be great.”

  In another minute, he’d fastened the bridle straps and put the reins over the horse’s neck. “Now, I can give you a leg up or you can pull yourself into the saddle. Which do you prefer?”

  She glared at him. “After that trick in the tack room, I’ll do it myself, thanks very much.”

  He stood at Cash’s head, just in case. “Left foot in the left stirrup. We always mount from this side. One hand on the horn, one on the back edge. That’s called the cantle.”

  “Right.” Jess stood for a moment, considering, and then put her hands where he’d instructed. From past experience, Dylan expected a groan and a fumble as she tried to get her foot high enough to climb into the stirrup.

  So his lower jaw dropped when she lifted her knee practically to her shoulder, easily slid her foot onto the tread and lightly pulled herself to stand on the left leg before swinging her right over and sitting down on the saddle.

  “Like that?” She grinned down at him, obviously pleased with herself.

  His turn to scowl. “You lied. You’ve done this before.”

  “No, I swear. But you didn’t ask me about what other sports I might practice.”

  “Such as...”

  “Karate.”

  “Ah. That makes you a dangerous person to know.” No surprise there. Dylan pulled his hat a little lower. “Time to ride. Take up the reins. Squeeze your heels against his sides.”

  By the end of thirty minutes, Jess looked at home in the saddle, as if she’d been riding for years. Before an hour had passed, she and Cash were jogging both ways around the corral. In her white hat, long braided hair and skinny jeans, she definitely took the prize for the prettiest, not to mention sexiest, cowgirl he’d ever seen.

  But she’s not a cowgirl. She’s a reporter. He was having trouble remembering that fact, and even more trouble not taking this morning at face value, as an experience shared between friends.

  He shook his head. Friends. Yeah, right.

  “Good job,” he said as she finally came to a stop in front of him. “The kids will be jealous of your skill. Except for Nate. He’s as talented as you are.”

  She stroked the side of Cash’s neck. “Where are the kids? I forgot to ask.”

  “Trail riding, as a last prep before the cattle drive.” To his own ears, he sounded terse. “You should get off now. Even if you’re in great shape, you might be a little sore tomorrow. Come out of the stirrups on both sides. Then bend forward, bring your right leg over and slide to the ground.”

  She vaulted off with the grace of a gymnast. “That’s pretty easy.”

  “You make it look that way.” Dylan led Cash to the fence and exchanged his bridle for a halter before removing the saddle and blanket. “If you want to brush out the sweat where the blanket has been, I’ll put this stuff away.” He headed toward the barn without waiting for her agreement. His shoulder blades itched as if she was staring at him while he walked away.

  When he got back, Cash gleamed like a fancy black car. “Nice.” They walked the horse to the far end of the corral, where Dylan took off the halter and let him into the pasture. Right away, Cash kicked up his heels and raced across the field at full speed, tail flying high.

  Dylan snorted a laugh as he closed the gate. “A two-year-old colt with a twenty-year-old’s knees.”

  Jess stood beside him. “I’m glad you didn’t show me that version of him before I rode. ’Cause I can assure you, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  He didn’t answer. Couldn’t figure out what to say. His brain warred with his gut, churning him up inside. Smart and stupid, safe and crazy, were all mixed up.

  “Oh, the hell with it,” he growled. “Let’s get this over with.” He turned to face Jess Granger, cupped her face in his hands and tilted her chin up with his thumbs. Then he kissed her.

  Chapter Four

  As far as Jess could tell, this would not be over with anytime soon.

  His mouth was firm against hers, but not harsh. Just...inexorable. She might have predicted this moment when she first saw him yesterday. And she agreed—they should satisfy their curiosity and then move on.

  But there seemed to be no end to the ways their lips fit together, or to the variations of sensation they could create for each other. She circled her arms around his neck, and the closeness changed their contact, melding them more deeply. Their tongues touched, tangled, and they both gasped. His scent reached her—the tang of lemon, a trace of pine and an edge of spice, blended with the sweet musk of his sweat. The way her head spun, Jess could have been totally intoxicated at eleven o’clock in the morning.

  Perhaps that was why she was so swept away, so overwhelmed and enthralled. Dylan’s kisses confirmed a link between them, a spiritual connection she’d never thought she’d have. His solace and support, his concern and confidence, blanketed all the cold places inside her. She’d waited her whole life to get warm.

  At the sound of a distant shout, though, Dylan raised his head. “Damn.” His mouth looked as swollen, as ravaged, as hers felt. Staring into his face, she imagined his lashes might be wet.

  “What’s wrong?” She grabbed his biceps to keep herself upright. Her knees were too shaky to depend on.

  “They’re coming this way.”

  Jess followed his line of sight and saw a string of riders cresting the top of a distant hill. They hadn’t reached the far pasture fence, but it wouldn’t be too long.

  His fingers untangled from her hair. He took a deep breath and stepped away, dropping his hands. “I’ve made a mess...there’s a bathroom in the barn, with a mirror. You should go.”

  “Sure. Okay.” She made her fingers loosen on his arms. “Yes.”

  “I believe the kids are expecting you for lunch,” he said. “A picnic at the creek. But I’ve got some...chores to do, so I might not get there in time.” After a pause, he added, “See you later.”

  Before she could say anything, he climbed the gate and dropped over to the other side. He walked to a beautiful white horse with brown spots all over its coat. They greeted each other with what Jess considered a hug—the animal folded its long head over Dylan’s shoulder while his arms went around its neck.

  The horse raised its head and in the next instant Dylan somehow threw himself up and onto its bare back, a maneuver that made mounting with a stirrup from the ground seem clumsy and silly. Without saddle or bridle, they started to move at a walk and then a jog, as she had with Cash, and then into a smooth motion that reminded her of a sailboat on a rolling sea. Although the kids on their horses were getting closer, Dylan rode off in a different direction, and then down a hill until he was lost from her sight.

  Quite an exit.

  Once within the cool shadows of the barn, Jess found the bathroom and locked herself inside. She sat on the small bench against the wall and pressed a wet towel over her face, striving for composure that was a long while coming.

  They were just kisses. You’re thirty-five years old. Not fifteen.

  But no one had ever kissed her like that. No man had ever offered her such a spectrum of experiences—mental, physical, emotional—and touched only her face. Sex was sex and she’d had her share, most of it good, some of it terrific. None of it could compare with what had just taken place.

  Or maybe that was simply what she wanted to feel, what she wanted to believe had happened. Dylan Marshall had gotten to her, somehow. For whatever reason, she needed this to be something special.

  Which was ridiculous. She wasn’t here for a relationship. She didn’t want a relationship. What she needed and wanted was a story.

  But how could she pursue the article, after this episode? Her objectivity about him had been completely destroyed. Anything she wrote would be biased by the emotional reaction he’d incited. And by his reaction to her.

  Wait a minute.r />
  Was that the point? Had those kisses been calculated to produce exactly that response? Could Dylan Marshall be devious enough to seduce her as a way of slanting her work? Did he believe she could be manipulated?

  Jess pressed the wet towel harder against her eyes. She didn’t want to accept that Dylan could be such a slick operator. He’d flirted with her, she’d flirted with him, and she thought they’d both understood it as a way of finding common ground. Fun, but basically harmless.

  Those kisses had not been harmless. Would she ever forget that soaring sense of completion when his mouth softened on hers, the exquisite sense of being understood?

  Noises outside the bathroom signaled that the kids had arrived. Wearily, Jess stood up and went to stare at the mirror over the sink. She’d smeared mascara all over her cheeks, and the only soap she had to wash with was a rough green bar. As for her hair...luckily, there was a comb in the medicine cabinet. That damage she could repair.

  The damage to her ego, her spirit, her...heart? She wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  DYLAN SLOWED LEO to a jog when they got close to the creek, and then finally to a walk. When they moved under the trees, the horse put his head down and began to graze. Sliding off to the side, Dylan walked to his favorite boulder and sat. A minute later, he stretched all the way out and put his hat over his face. With luck, he’d fall asleep and not have to think. Surrounded by water and grass, Leo wouldn’t wander off.

  Unfortunately, Dylan’s mind wouldn’t wander, either, but returned with excruciating accuracy to his most recent mistake. A mistake he would live with for a long time to come.

  Just a kiss, he’d decided. Her lips, my lips, nothing special, let it go.

  Not in the least. First, there was the smoothness of her cheeks against his palms. Cool, too, even after an hour of riding. And those big hazel eyes, deep-set and intense. Registering surprise and then, in the next instant, desire.

  Which was a big part of the problem. Her mouth had been warm, soft and ready. He’d lost his head with the first taste. After that, the only consideration had been making her feel good, letting her do the same for him. Pure pleasure in the giving and the taking. His body stirred just remembering it.