Quick-Draw Cowboy

by Joanna Wayne

  She wrapped the bag in the same white paper she used to line boxes of pastry and then slid it to the seldom-used top shelf in her bakeware pantry.

  Now it was just a matter of waiting. According to information at the website, results would be ready in three to five days by phone after the DNA was in their hands and the written document would arrive by mail a workday or two later.

  Dani would see that the samples were at the Corinthian Court Lab by Monday afternoon.

  A happy ending for everyone except Haggard—as long as the DNA proved his threats were nothing but a scam. Right now she had to think positively about that.

  * * *

  DEAD TIRED BUT with the back door to the bakery secured, Riley adjusted the spray so that it was as hot as he could stand it. He liked his showers caliente, his salsa picantes and his life uncomplicated. He hadn’t even been in Winding Creek twenty-four hours yet and his life was as complicated as it had ever been.

  He was feeling a bit like he’d blown into town on a hurricane and dropped into a stampede of wild horses. Only wild horses might not have been nearly as disruptive to his life as Dani Boatman.

  Sure, she was cute, smart and witty, but that didn’t fully explain the instantaneous attraction to her from the moment he’d walked into Dani’s Delights. Kind of like a bite of one of her famous cinnamon rolls that, if he could believe all the comments he’d heard this morning, left everyone wanting more.

  Riley was yet to taste one of those rolls, but he’d known immediately he wanted to get to know her better. He’d never expected to be standing naked in her shower tonight—albeit alone.

  Not that he could chalk up that development to his irresistible charm. He owed his being here tonight to the jerk who’d wrecked her bakery. Crazy timing for sure, for a town that seldom saw this type of senseless crime.

  A random attack or was the bakery targeted? If it was the latter, what would have happened if the alarm hadn’t gone off or if Dani had been in the shop’s kitchen when the son of a bitch busted through the door?

  What if he came back when she and Constance were here alone?

  Those troubling thoughts kicked around in Riley’s mind as he soaped his body and shampooed his hair.

  The back door to the shop was boarded over for now, but Riley planned to replace it with one reinforced with iron bars that would be a lot more difficult to break through. He’d checked the front door. It needed better and more secure locks, as well.

  But no matter how secure the doors were, the huge display window would always be an easy point of entry. The best he could do with that was encourage her to make sure her replacement alarm system was top-of-the-line.

  He had the next few days’ work cut out for him—as long as she let him keep hanging around.

  He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a thick, sky-blue towel from the rack. The towel was slightly damp and smelled of the same intoxicating scent that clung to Dani. He’d never taken much notice of fragrances before, but tonight even that was a turn-on.

  A competing odor grabbed his attention—a whiff of bacon made his mouth water and his stomach grumble. It occurred to him as he yanked on his jeans that he’d had nothing to eat tonight except a couple of bites of stuffed quail appetizers.

  He’d skipped the other reception food, partly because he was more interested in enjoying Dani’s company. Admittedly, also because of the fabulous noon meal Esther had on the table when he’d finally arrived at the Double K Ranch after leaving the bakery.

  He and his brothers had chastised her for cooking for them when she was so busy with wedding preparations. She’d claimed cooking was her balm when things got hectic.

  Maybe that was true of Dani, too. Perhaps she was in her commercial kitchen, pounding and shaping dough or measuring ingredients for her next creation.

  But he wasn’t familiar with any pastries that smelled like bacon. He headed downstairs without bothering with shoes or a shirt.

  Dani was cutting dough into triangles, so absorbed in what she was doing she didn’t even notice when he joined her. He stared appreciatively.

  She was in faded jeans, the interesting kind with authentic rips in suggestive, though not indecent, places.

  Nice hips. Even nicer ass. No red-blooded cowboy under ninety could fail to appreciate that. He struggled to resist walking over and fitting his hands around the tempting buttocks.

  “What are you making?” he asked.

  She spun around.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Not your fault. My nerves are still a bit on edge. I’m making stuffed breakfast croissants. Hope you’re hungry. They’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

  “I’m starved. Can I help?”

  “Sure. You’re in charge of the bacon. When it’s nice and crispy, lay the strips on the paper towels I spread out on the counter. Once they cool enough to handle, crumble them in bite-size pieces.”

  “Got it.” Her hands seemed to fly as she poured heavy cream into a bowl and added a generous sprinkle of powdered sugar. Using a hand-held electric mixer, she whipped the cream into mounds of fluff.

  “What are we going to do with the whipped cream?”

  “You’ll see,” Dani promised. She dipped one finger into the bowl and then held it to his lips.

  He sucked and swallowed the gooey sweetness while his imagination went on a wild ride. His appetite switched gears. Now it was Dani he was hungry for.

  She went right back to the task at hand, cracking large brown eggs into another bowl. This time she used a fork to beat them until they were the color of lemons and smooth as silk.

  He was so mesmerized by her graceful, competent movements that he almost let the bacon burn. He forked it quickly onto the paper towels and turned off the gas.

  His ravenous desire for her was as sizzling as the bacon had been. He wasn’t exactly getting those same vibes from her, but he couldn’t help visualizing what those long, mesmerizing fingers of hers could do to him.

  Unless... “Is there a significant other in your life?” he asked as she scrambled the eggs.

  “You mean besides Constance, who pretty much rules the roost?”

  “Yeah. Some guy you’re crazy about who’s got you all wrapped up and off the market.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head. “I’m not sure I was ever really on the market, as you put it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m a born workaholic. I haven’t had a date since Constance came to live with me eight months ago. Tonight’s the first time I’ve danced since the last wedding I attended, and that was over a year ago.”

  “We’ll have to remedy that.”

  “That would be fun, except that my time for a social life is extremely limited these days.”

  “I’m starting to think you have something against cowboys.”

  “Absolutely not. If I did, you’d be getting stale muffins tonight instead of my croissant specialty.”

  She folded the eggs into the whipped cream while he crumbled the bacon. Next, she spooned the egg mixture across the widest part of the doughy triangles and then sprinkled it with the bacon and grated cheese.

  She reached down and grabbed a scoop of flour from somewhere and sprinkled it on the work surface.

  “Are you also a magician? It looked like you just pulled that flour from thin air.”

  “No, but I indulged big for my super-convenient flour-canister drawers. Close the drawer and a built-in cover keeps the flour dry and clean. Open the drawer with a foot control and the canister is open, the flour ready to scoop or measure without my touching sticky or floured hands on clean surfaces.”

  “Who knew being a pastry chef required so many expensive gadgets?”

  “The salespeople who make a living convincing us we need the
m.”

  He watched her roll the first one and then joined in, rolling one in the same time it took her to finish the other four. In minutes she’d slid six filled croissants into a hot oven.

  “This is guaranteed to be the fanciest midnight snack I ever had,” he said. “Of course, you’re only competing with a glass of milk and store-bought cookies.”

  “Store-bought cookies. Wash your mouth out with soap.”

  “Hate the taste of soap. Do you have any wine?”

  “No, but there are a few beers in the larger refrigerator that I keep for when Grace and Pierce come to dinner.”

  “That’s even better.”

  He retrieved two beers, opened both of them and slid one across the worktable next to where Dani was arranging raspberries and strawberries on two white plates she’d decorated with swirls of chocolate sauce. He felt like he’d crashed a TV cooking show.

  As Riley sipped his beer, his mind tripped back to his earlier concerns that she was a target. “I know you said that you had no idea who broke in to the shop.”

  “I don’t,” she answered quickly.

  “I just thought that since you’ve had time to think of it, a suspect might have come to mind. Perhaps some jerk who wants to get back at you for some real or perceived injustice?”

  She visibly tensed. “No. I’ve made no enemies since moving here.”

  “What about before you moved to Winding Creek? A disgruntled employer? A vicious neighbor? Some guy you dumped and broke his heart?”

  “No. No one. Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight. I don’t even want to think about it.”

  The conversation had definitely upset her. Her hands shook as she yanked the pan of croissants from the oven and set them down hard on a cooling rack.

  All convincing signs she was lying. He had a strong hunch that she knew who’d broken in and was afraid to say. But why? To protect the intruder? Or to protect herself or Constance?

  She pushed his filled plate across the counter to him. “You know, now that the back door is secured, there’s really no reason for you to stay overnight. You should go home after we eat and get some rest. You’re here to see your family and Esther, not to babysit the chef.”

  “Let me worry about that.” He reached across the work surface and covered her hands with his. “If you’re having problems, you can trust me, Dani. I’m one of the good guys. Texas roots. Cowboy code. All that and a plate of tacos.”

  “I am leveling with you.”

  “Doesn’t feel that way.”

  She pulled her hands away. “It’s just been a long day—for both of us. You surely need a break from rescue duties.”

  She’d tried to lighten her tone, but it wasn’t quite working. Riley trailed a finger from her shoulder to her chin and tilted it so that she had to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to go, Dani?”

  She sighed and took a deep breath, as if trying to come to grips with her own feelings.

  “I’d like you to stay,” she murmured. “Just no more talk tonight of the break-in.”

  “You got it.”

  “Now let’s eat,” she said, “before your most-elegant-ever midnight snack gets cold.”

  He wouldn’t push anymore right now, but he wasn’t letting this go, either. Not just because she’d crawled under his skin and stirred desire on every level. She might need his help, even if she was too stubborn to admit it.

  A few seconds later he bit into the golden, flaky croissant. The warm creamy eggs and crispy bacon filling flooded his mouth and created a heaven for his taste buds.

  “What do you think?” Dani asked once he’d swallowed and licked his lips.

  “Wow. Will you marry me?” he said, not sure at that exact moment that he was teasing.

  “Depends on what kind of job you do on the back door,” she teased.

  The tension had passed, at least on the surface. But the issue of her safety was far from over. Somehow he had to win her trust.

  Which translated to the fact that he’d best control his manly urges. No trying to jump her bones tonight.

  * * *

  DANI WOKE WITH a start, jerking to a sitting position, her mind wedged between nightmare and reality. She shivered, slowly realizing that her cotton nightshirt was soaked in cold sweat.

  Even as the dregs of sleep faded, the nightmare continued to stalk the edge of her consciousness. She’d been reaching for Constance, trying to save her before she backed off a craggy ledge. But no matter how close Dani got, Constance remained just out of reach.

  Dani hugged her knees to her chest as her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight squeezing through the blinds and striping the shadowed walls. The terrifying sense of helplessness wouldn’t let go.

  She was in Constance’s room, having insisted Riley, with his much larger frame, sleep in her king-size bed. His being here seemed right on so many levels but wrong on just as many others. He’d come to her rescue without hesitation, taken control, flirted just enough to make her feel feminine and desirable. Mostly he’d made her feel safe tonight.

  The nightmare had been a horrifying reminder that locks and reinforced doors couldn’t keep her and Constance safe from James Haggard. If he was Constance’s biological father, there was a heartbreaking chance that he could gain custody of her.

  Amber, how could you have created such a marvelous daughter with a heartless monster like Haggard?

  Dani kicked away the covers, crawled from between the sheets and padded to the window. Gathering the hem of her nightshirt between her fingers, she pulled the damp shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. The pulsing fear of the nightmare settled into an uneasy drumming of her nerves.

  She’d feel better if she could hear Constance’s voice and know that she was safe. She glanced at the clock—3:00 a.m. She’d only upset everyone in Esther’s household if she called now.

  But unless she was wrong about Haggard’s being the one who broke in to her shop, she’d soon know if he was Constance’s biological father, as he claimed.

  If it turned out that he was...

  She couldn’t even go there. All she knew was that as long as she had enough breath to fight, he would never get custody of Constance.

  Dawn crept back through the windows before she fell asleep again.

  * * *

  DANI MEASURED THE square of poster board, making marks to ensure that her sign was symmetrical and at least semiprofessional-looking. She wanted it on the door before she tackled the clean-up job.

  “Want a refill?” Riley asked as he picked up his empty mug.

  “Not until I finish this. I don’t want to risk dripping coffee on my work of art. But could you bring me my phone off the counter? I called Esther about thirty minutes ago to check on Constance, and she hasn’t called me back.”

  “They’re probably all involved with seeing off Grace and Pierce. Two days is a lousy honeymoon, but I can see why they’re putting off their trip to Italy until July. Spring on any ranch is a hectic time.”

  “So I’ve heard. Before moving here, I’d never been on a ranch.”

  “But you do ride horses?”

  “I have ridden a few times, mostly since I started spending a little time with Grace at the Double K. I wouldn’t say I ride.”

  “Honey, we have a lot of work to do in a short time. What about Constance? Does she know how to ride?”

  A short time. At least he wasn’t pretending he was interested in long-term commitment.

  “Pierce has been giving Constance riding lessons every Wednesday afternoon. She loves it.”

  “You can’t let her show you up.” Riley looked over her shoulder as she started printing. “You know you could just leave the sign that’s already on the door turned to closed instead of wasting so much time constructin
g a new one.”

  “Not in a town the size of Winding Creek. The regulars know I’m supposed to open at ten on Sundays. If I don’t provide at least a minimal explanation, they’ll be banging on the locked door trying to make sure I’m okay.”

  “Checking up on their favorite pastry chef.” He refilled his mug and grabbed another warm morning glory muffin from the basket next to the coffeepot. “So, what explanation are you giving them?”

  “Closed today for personal emergency.”

  “Oh, yeah, like that won’t get the gossip mills grinding.”

  “I know, but everyone in town will know about the break-in before the day is over. I just don’t want them bothering me while I’m cleaning, especially since I won’t be dressed for company.”

  “When do you plan to reopen?”

  “Tuesday morning at my usual time of seven.”

  “Why not take the whole week off? It’s a shame to spend all this beautiful spring inside.”

  “I can’t take off. This is a business. I already have orders for two birthday cakes, petits fours for a bridal shower and filled croissants for a ladies auxiliary committee meeting on Friday night. I can’t just toss my responsibilities aside.”

  “Right.” He put up a hand to stop her arguments. “The workaholic’s creed.”

  “That’s not it.”

  Oh, who was she kidding? She hadn’t had a real vacation in over a year. Constance was out of school until Thursday. A couple of days off would give them time to have fun together.

  Dani couldn’t take a week off, but her business wouldn’t fall apart if she was closed a couple of extra days.

  “Maybe I will take Tuesday and Wednesday off,” she said.

  “What about your birthday cakes and petit fours?”

  “Actually only one of the cakes is due before I’d reopen on Thursday—a birthday cake for Myrtle Higgins’s ninety-year-old mother. I’ll give Myrtle a call and assure her I’ll have it ready whenever she wants to pick it up.”

  “I like this spontaneous you.”

  “Now I just have to decide how Constance and I will spend our unexpected mini-vacation.”