She began the long walk to the cowboy motel. It would be unusually quiet tonight, as Devon had told her most of the cowboys would be headed for the big barn dance being held at Abe Breckinridge’s ranch.
She couldn’t help but think of Forest’s invitation for her to join him at the dance, but her plans were to do what she did every night: eat a protein bar and a prepared salad that Devon had picked up for her at noon when he’d gone into town for a quick lunch. She would then settle in for a night of relaxing and reading Hollywood gossip.
Although her stomach growled with hunger, when she reached her room she opted for a shower first and then changed into her nightshirt. She grabbed both the salad and a soda from the mini-fridge and then got comfortable on the bed to eat.
The silence in the small room didn’t bother her; rather, she relished it. Her childhood had been a schizophrenic dichotomy between unexpected outbursts of drama and cold, unemotional lectures.
Since the moment she’d left her parents’ home, she’d reveled in the silence of peace. She didn’t want anyone else’s dramas except her own, and those usually occurred when she allowed her anger free rein.
It was just after nine when the silence was broken. A rousing country Western song drifted through her door along with the distinctive scent of charcoal burning.
What the heck?
She got up off the bed, unlocked her door and peered outside.
Surprise winged through her. Forest was seated in one of two folding chairs just outside his room. The charcoal in the small barbecue grill in front of him glowed red-hot, and as he spied her, he turned down the volume on the CD player next to him.
He was cleaned up, wearing jeans and a pullover short-sleeved blue shirt. His thick black hair was neatly combed and he looked as if he had just shaved. He was way too hot and sexy.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I figured if you wouldn’t go to the barn dance with me, then I’d bring the barn dance to you,” he replied and smiled. It was that smile that warmed her in unexpected places as she stared at him in disbelief.
“What do you say? I’ve got the hot dogs ready for the grill, a couple of beers on ice and the appropriate music. All I’m missing is company.”
She should tell him no. This went against all the rules she’d set for herself when she was working. Heck, it went against all the rules she’d set for herself when she wasn’t working.
“Just let me pull on something more appropriate and I’ll be right out,” she heard herself say.
She closed her door and quickly pulled off her nightgown, even while telling herself this was probably a big mistake.
* * *
Forest was shocked at her positive response. He’d expected her to say no and then slam her door shut once again. A wave of suspicion swept through him as she disappeared behind her door. Was she really going to get dressed and join him? Or had she vanished back into the room to remain there until he got tired of waiting for her and gave up on the night?
The thin, short-sleeved bright purple nightgown he’d gotten a peek of was incongruent to what he’d imagined she’d wear to bed. He’d spent far too long during the last week wondering about her nightwear.
He’d figured her for a no-nonsense pajama kind of woman, or if it was a nightgown, then it would be long and some muted color like gray or dark blue. He certainly hadn’t guessed a short gown that showcased shapely legs and certainly not a brilliant purple that clashed charmingly with her red hair.
Minutes ticked by. This had probably been a harebrained idea to begin with, he told himself. Still, he’d seen her watching him as he’d started to work with the new horse. Why would she step out of her tent and away from her work so many times during each day to watch him if she didn’t have some kind of intrigue about him?
He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding as her door finally reopened and she stepped out into the waning darkness in a pair of black capris and a blue and black sleeveless cotton blouse.
She sank into the chair next to his and shifted positions several times, obviously a bit uncomfortable with the entire situation.
“Cold beer?” he asked.
“Okay,” she agreed almost eagerly.
He reached into the nearby cooler and pulled out two beer bottles. He opened hers and handed it to her. “Now, the real question: I’ve got the grill hot and ready, so how about a hot dog?”
She finally leaned back in the chair. “Is that what they do at barn dances? Drink beer and eat hot dogs?”
“There’s definitely a lot of beer and whiskey drinking that goes on, but the menu usually includes smoked ribs and baked beans, tubs of potato salad and all kinds of pies. I couldn’t quite accomplish all that so you’re stuck with cold beer and hot dogs.”
“Then I’ll have a hot dog,” she replied, again surprising him. His surprise must have shown. “It’s only right that I have one since you’ve gone to so much trouble.” She cocked her head to one side and gazed at him. “Why have you gone to all this trouble?”
“I just thought it might do you some good to get out of that room and eat something besides cheese puffs and those dry bars of oats or whatever.” He pulled a couple of hot dogs from the cooler and used a fork to set them on the grill.
“How did you know I eat cheese puffs and protein bars?”
“I’ve seen your trash. It’s not healthy for a woman to eat those things on a daily basis without something more substantial.” The hot dogs sizzled and filled the air with their scent.
“Actually I had a salad tonight for dinner. Devon picked it up at the café for me at noon.” She took a sip of her beer.
“That’s good to know.” He pulled buns and two squeeze bottles, one of ketchup and of mustard, out of the cooler, along with a couple of paper plates.
Despite the smells of charcoal and cooking meat, he could smell her, a clean scent of minty soap and a faint hint of something floral. His stomach tightened, and he didn’t know if it was because he liked the way she smelled or because he’d skipped supper in anticipation of potentially being here with her now.
“What else happens at these barn dances?” she asked curiously.
He turned the hot dogs over before replying. “Music and dancing. There’s usually at least one drunken brawl, but rarely any hard feelings afterward.” He frowned and thought about the ranch hands who worked the Humes place next to the Holiday Ranch. There didn’t have to be booze involved for there to be hard feelings between the cowboys of the two ranches. There was also no reason to bring up that particular unpleasant topic tonight.
“I still don’t understand why you did all this. I know what everyone calls me behind my back. I definitely have shown myself to be antisocial and at times downright nasty,” she said.
Forest gestured in the direction of the small corral in the distance. “That horse is antisocial, too. But with a lot of patience and a dose of tenderness, he’ll wind up being a fine companion.” He winced at his own words. “Not that I’m comparing you to a horse.”
He busied himself getting the grilled hot dogs to the buns and on the paper plates. She wanted mustard, no ketchup, and he wanted ketchup and no mustard.
“Why didn’t you go to the dance with the rest of your friends?” she asked once they each had a plate and he’d tossed two more hot dogs on the grill.
“I was hoping I’d be here with you,” he replied easily.
She looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “Why would you want to be here with me?”
He studied her in the light of the full moon that had appeared overhead. Why, indeed? “Beats me,” he finally replied honestly. “Why did you agree to come out and sit with me?”
“Beats me,” she echoed him.
“To be honest, you’ve intrigued me since you first a
rrived here.”
“Are you some kind of a masochist? Are you usually drawn to mean women with viper tongues?”
Forest laughed. “None of the above. I’d just like to get to know you a little better, maybe see what’s beneath the mean-woman attitude.”
“And what if you discover there’s only more mean woman underneath?”
He grinned at her. “Then I’ll just say it was nice knowing you and won’t plan any more barn dances with you.” He pulled the other two hot dogs from the grill and was surprised when she agreed to eat another one.
They both fell silent as they ate, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. She probably thought he was a nut. She was right. He’d been a little nutty since the first time he’d seen her.
Even before ever talking to her, she’d been in his head as he’d watched her interact, or more accurately, not interact with others. He’d watched the sun spark on her hair whenever she stepped outside of the tent and had wondered if it was as soft to the touch as it looked. He’d wondered what her laughter might sound like, what kind of a person she was when she wasn’t working. He’d spent a lot of time wondering all kinds of things about her.
When they’d finished with the hot dogs, he moved the small grill some distance away. The night air was warm enough without the closeness of the heated charcoal. Once he returned to his chair, he turned up the radio, not so loud that they couldn’t talk, but so that they could hear the foot-stomping country music.
“I won’t ask you about your findings so far, but tell me a little bit about the work you do as a forensic anthropologist.”
“Surely you aren’t really interested in that,” she protested.
“But I am,” he replied. “I only went to school through tenth grade. I’m always interested in learning new things.”
The fact that he had so little formal schooling wasn’t usually something he talked about, but tragic circumstances and fear had forever changed the path his life was supposed to have taken.
He was interested, but more than that he liked the sound of her voice. When she wasn’t screaming or yelling at somebody to get out of her tent, she had a pleasant, almost musical voice that was quite appealing.
He pulled another beer out for each of them and settled back in the chair as she began to talk about soil analysis and the measurement of bone length and density.
Her face came alive when she talked about her work. Her eyes sparkled brightly and her features took on an animation that only made her more attractive than he already found her.
The moonlight lit her hair to a fiery red and bathed her face in an illumination that softened all of her features. By the time she’d finished talking, he wanted more than anything to draw her into his arms and dance with her.
“Facts, that’s what I deal in. Scientific facts that never lie,” she finished.
“Facts are important, but a little flight of fancy isn’t too bad, either,” he replied.
She grew silent, and he had a feeling she didn’t do flights of fancy often. Instead of discussing the issue, he began to point out the many star constellations that were visible in the night sky and explained how cowboys used the stars to navigate in the dark.
“So, if you ever find a grave of old bones, I’m your girl and if I ever find myself alone in the dark in a pasture, I’d want you by my side,” she said.
“I guess that about sums it up,” he agreed.
The music had changed to a soft slow rhythm, and on an inward dare to himself, he stood and held out his hand to her. “A barn dance really isn’t complete unless you actually dance.”
“Oh, I don’t know how to dance,” she replied and shrank back against the chair.
“It’s easy, just follow my lead.”
“I’m not used to following anyone’s lead,” she said with a tiny edge to her voice.
“Jeez, Patience, it’s just a simple dance, not a lifetime commitment,” he replied.
She hesitated a moment and then set her beer bottle down on the ground. She stood, her body straight and rigid, as if she were being forced to walk a plank to her death.
He took her in his arms, keeping a healthy couple of inches between their bodies. Her hands automatically landed on his upper arms, reminding him of how tiny she was and that reaching up to his shoulders would be a real stretch for her.
“Just relax,” he murmured.
She looked up at him. “Easy for you to say.”
He laughed and moved his feet in an easy two-step and was pleased to discover that she was a quick study. Within moments she did begin to relax.
The floral scent was more prevalent as he fought the desire to pull her even closer. He knew that if he did, she’d make a hasty retreat back into her room and he wasn’t ready for the time with her to end.
It didn’t matter what he wanted. The minute the song stopped, she stepped away from him and her body displayed the posture of a deer about to bolt. “I’ve got to get to bed,” she said as she backed up to her door. “This has been pleasant, but it’s not something we’re going to repeat. I’m here to work and that’s all I really care about.”
Before Forest could say anything, she disappeared into her room and shut the door after her. Disappointed, he returned to his chair and sank back down, replaying each and every moment of their time together.
He’d half hoped that he’d find her to be as disagreeable as everyone else had deemed her. He’d almost wanted to believe her to be the dragon lady to stanch the inexplicable draw he had to her.
But that hadn’t happened. Instead he was more interested in her than he’d been before. His attraction to her was visceral. Perhaps it was just a matter of him suffering a burst of too much testosterone. Maybe he needed to go lift a tree trunk or carry a cow over his shoulders for a couple of miles, he thought wryly.
He unscrewed a fresh beer and looked up at the cloudless starlit sky. No amount of physical activity would relieve the touch of lust that coupled with his desire to get beneath what he suspected was a shell she presented to the world to keep people away.
Forest knew why most of the cowboys working the ranch had trust issues and he had a feeling Dr. Patience Forbes might suffer some trust issues of her own.
Time would tell if she’d be here long enough, if he could get close enough to discover what had made her into the woman she’d become.
All he knew was that as they’d danced and she’d relaxed into him just a bit, she’d touched him in a way nobody but Cass Holiday had when she’d taken him in as a sixteen-year-old runaway who had lost everything. Something about Patience stroked his heart.
Cass was gone now, but Patience was here, and tonight had just whetted his appetite to get closer to her. Although she wasn’t a horse, he wondered if he had the magic it might take to allow her to trust him enough to let him get closer to her.
Chapter 3
Patience woke up in a foul mood, and the name of it was Forest Stevens. He’d drawn her out of her comfort zone the night before, enticed her to spend time with him and get to know him a little better.
He’d invaded her dreams with his soft smile and the whole thoughtful setup of a pretend barn dance right outside her door. She’d dreamed of dancing with him closer, more intimately. His strong arms wrapped tight around her, his size making her feel like a tiny dancer in a music box...protected and cherished.
“Foolishness,” she said aloud as she dressed for the day. She’d allowed herself to be pulled into his world for a brief moment, a place where she didn’t belong, a place she didn’t want to belong.
At least the hot dogs had been wonderful, and if she looked deep inside herself she’d admit that the company had been pleasant enough. Forest Stevens was definitely eye candy with substance.
But acknowledging that didn’t change her mood or the fact that
she needed to keep her distance from Forest...from everyone and everything except the bones that still awaited her particular expertise.
She left her room, not worried about running into Forest or any of the other cowboys. They would already be up and out, riding the range or doing whatever cowboys did to pass the long days.
Her back stiffened as she drew near the corral and saw Forest inside the wooden enclosure with the horse. He saw her and waved, but she ducked her head and hurried on to the sanctuary of her tent.
She sneaked out only to knock on the trailer door to let Devon know it was time to get to work. He never entered the tent until he knew she was on site. She didn’t permit anyone inside unless she was present. She quickly returned to the tent without another glance at the corral.
She didn’t even get completely inside the tent when shock stopped her in her tracks. The skeleton they’d completed putting together was gone from the stainless-steel table, as was the second skeleton that had nearly been completed.
For a moment her brain couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. Somebody had been inside the tent overnight, somebody who had removed the bones she and Devon had worked so hard to connect into a human form.
Shock turned to outrage. Sensing Devon standing just behind her, she whirled around to face him. “What happened to the skeletons?”
He looked at her blankly. “What are you talking about?”
“The bones, the skeletons we had on the tables are gone.” She was aware of her voice rising not only an octave, but also in volume. “They didn’t just get up and walk out of here on their own. Somebody came in here and took them.”
Devon backed up several steps and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Dillon.”
Devon called Chief Bowie, and Patience paced outside the tent entrance, still stunned by her discovery. She knew better than to enter what now might be a fresh crime scene.
“Dillon said he’ll be right here,” Devon said as he repocketed his phone. Devon appeared as bewildered and shocked as she felt.
Cowboy Under Fire Page 3
