Colt

by Duncan Leigh

  “Here, hold your hand flat,” he instructed. “She has big teeth, but her mouth is soft as velvet.”

  One arm curled tightly around Colt’s neck, Bree held still while Daisy lipped the piece of carrot from her open palm.

  “Mommy, she tickled me!” Light sparkled in Bree’s eyes. “Can I give her another one?”

  “That was really good, Bree.” Colt gave the kid points for bravery. “You can pet her if you want. She’d like that.”

  Carefully, Bree reached out to the gentle mare. She ran a hand along the shiny coat and giggled when Daisy signaled her contentment by blowing air through soft lips.

  Colt locked onto Emma’s eyes. The fear he’d glimpsed in them had turned to wonder. Her wordless thank you sent another wave of warmth through his chest.

  He took a deep breath. Staying away from the petite brunette was going to be harder than he’d ever imagined if something as simple as introducing her daughter to a horse put a glow in Emma’s eyes.

  But the moment passed when Bree turned up her nose. “She’s pooping!” the little girl screamed in a mix of horror and delight.

  “Yep,” Colt chuckled. “Horses do that.” He turned to Emma. “We muck the stalls twice a day, every day, replacing soiled hay with fresh bedding. Keeps the horses healthy.” He nudged Bree’s tummy. “And everything smells nice.”

  Figuring they’d spent enough time with the horses, he lifted one finger to his lips. “If you can be real quiet, we’ll take a peek at Maize’s puppies.”

  “Puppies!” Bree’s eyes widened.

  She scrambled to get down, but Colt had been around the four-year-old enough to hang on to her. “They’re too small to handle,” he cautioned. “We can only look. No touching.”

  The little girl gave him a solemn nod. With Emma at his side, they peered over the Dutch door at the end of the aisle. Maize sprawled across a bed of fresh hay and old horse blankets while three of her six pups nursed. Two of the others slept in a pile, one on top of the other. The runt of the litter nosed his way across the straw.

  “Oh, Mommy, they’re so cute.” Bree wrapped one arm around Colt’s neck. “Can I have a puppy? Please, please, please?”

  Looking into the child’s pleading eyes, Colt felt his heart lurch. He’d give her a puppy. Hell, she could have the whole litter if she wanted. He was on the verge of saying so, when Emma’s voice reminded him the decision wasn’t his to make.

  “Bree, it’s not nice to ask for presents.”

  “She’s a good dog, with a kind heart,” Colt chimed in. “Her pups’ll likely take after her. Shouldn’t every kid have responsibility for a dog?”

  “Do not fall under her spell, Colt Judd,” Emma admonished, though the amused expression on her face told him she was only half serious. “We’ll have to wait and see. How long before they’re weaned?”

  “Another six weeks, give or take.” At her quick nod, he turned to Bree. “Right now, the puppies’ eyes are shut.”

  Almost as if he’d timed it, the wandering pup bumped into the stable wall and fell in a heap. “They need to stay with their mom till they grow a bit. Let’s let the pups go back to sleep for now.”

  When Bree shook her head and pouted, it nearly broke his heart, but a glance at Emma helped him stay firm. “We’ll come back to see them again,” he swore. “You have to promise me you won’t come out here alone, though. Your mommy or me, we have to come with you.”

  Bree took a big, shuddery breath. “Okay, Mr. Colt,” she agreed. She waved one hand at the dogs. “Bye-bye, puppies,” she said in a sad little voice that ripped another hole in his heart.

  Torn between standing at the door watching the pups for the rest of the day, and taking Emma on the promised tour of the ranch, Colt hesitated. He shot her a questioning glance. The knowing smile she wore told him he wasn’t the first to fall prey to her daughter’s charms. Unless he missed his guess, he wouldn’t be the last.

  Heaven help the boys.

  He put his feet in motion. Behind the barn, he settled Bree and Mrs. Wickles in the back seat of a canvas-topped vehicle.

  “Horseback’s the best way to see the ranch, but we’ll save that till after you and Bree have a few riding lessons under your belts.” He wasn’t much older than the little girl the first time he rode solo. As for Emma… For a moment he lost himself in the image of his hands at her hips as she climbed into the saddle for the first time.

  “You leave the keys in the ignition?”

  Emma’s voice snagged his concentration, dragging it back to the present. He looked down. The keys for the Rhino dangled from his fingers.

  “Who’s gonna steal anything?” He shrugged. This was farm country, where neighbors looked out for each other. “Let me gas ’er up, and we’ll get moving.”

  He cranked the engine and drove the sturdy golf cart toward the tank at the edge of the building, where he used the little car’s battery to jump-start the pump. With the tank topped off, he slid behind the wheel.

  Space was tight in the four-seater. He eyed the trim legs that stretched from the hem of Emma’s shorts to her sandals, where sparkly nail polish glittered on her toes. An urge to trace his fingers along her smooth skin nearly overwhelmed him, and he gulped, almost thankful for their back-seat chaperone.

  To give his hands something to do, he shoved the stick into gear. Bree let out a happy giggle when he eased the Rhino off the graveled path and onto a deeply rutted track that led away from the buildings.

  “Parkers have owned the Circle P for more than a hundred years,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the throaty engine. “Judds have managed the land for just as long. Round here, this is considered a small ranch, but Luke’s been adding to the holdings. In a couple of years, we’ve gone from a thousand acres to twenty-five hundred. We lease another couple of sections. It takes a lot of land to feed cattle on grass and silage.”

  He pulled to a stop at a gate that stretched between two sections of fence. Hopping out, he unlatched a heavy chain and shoved the gate open. He slid behind the wheel again and drove through. Once he cleared the gate on the other side, he repeated the process, this time reattaching it. Emma gave him a curious look as he climbed in beside her.

  “If we’re coming back through here later,” she asked, “why bother closing the gate?”

  Colt shifted into first. “The field we just left—the cattle grazed it last week. Nothin’ to it but nubs. It’ll need a month or so to recover. Cattle don’t care. They always think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.”

  He nudged Emma with one elbow. “We spend a lot of time rebuilding fences.” He let the engine idle while he grabbed a hammer and nails from the back of the truck. A couple of taps tightened a loose strand of wire. Returning to the car, he spotted a small herd of deer.

  “Look there, Bree,” he said, aiming a thumb toward several does and their young parading across the road as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Oooooh, I see one with spots.” Bree bounced in her seat.

  “That’s a fawn. She was born this past winter, and she’s just a baby.” He pointed to a slightly larger doe whose spots had been replaced by tawny-brown hair. “That’s her sister. She’s a year older.”

  Bree settled against her seat back. “I want a sister. Mommy, can I have one?”

  The hint of color that rose in Emma’s cheeks sent his thoughts in the direction he’d been trying to keep them from going ever since the first day they’d met. He shook his head. Though he had to admit the image of Emma on the front porch waiting for him to come home at night was a tempting one, he wasn’t ready to settle down. Or was he? He goosed the gas pedal so hard, Emma nearly ended up in his lap.

  “Hang on.” He laughed as if he’d planned the move. “We’re gonna go for a while.”

  Dark green grass brushed the sides of the little car as they bumped over the narrow, rutted road.

  “Why don’t you let me drive us through?” Emma asked when he sto
pped to open the next gate.

  Surprised, he turned to her. “You drive a stick? The clutch on this one’s awful stiff.”

  “I told you my dad was military,” she said without explaining further. “Trust me, I can handle it.”

  “I bet you can,” he said, pitching his voice low and loving the way her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “C’mon, Bree. You wanna help?”

  Bree scrambled out of her seat so quickly he had to jump to keep up with her. The little tyke watched, seemingly fascinated, as he unthreaded the chain. He wished he’d thought to bring a camera when she threw her weight into helping him swing the gate open.

  He could get used to the warm, fuzzy feeling he got whenever he showed the kid the basics of ranching, the way his dad had taught him, he thought, as Bree stuck to his side while Emma drove the Rhino through. It must have been the bright sun that made his eyes water, he decided. He swiped a hand over them as he climbed back into the ATV.

  Emma canted her head and gave him a worried look. “You feeling all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Must’ve swallowed a bug or something.” He cleared his throat while he worked to get his feelings under control. What would it be like for Bree to grow up without a dad? No one to take her to the father-daughter dance. To eventually walk her down the aisle.

  His stay on the Circle P was a short one, he reminded himself. It wouldn’t be fair—to Emma or Bree—if he got too close, too involved in their lives when he knew he’d be moving on.

  For the next while, he mostly stuck to his job as tour guide, though he couldn’t help tackling a few small problems along the way. When he pointed out the long rolls of silage they’d feed the cattle over the winter, he made quick work of taping a hole in the blue plastic covering. At the cement watering trough, he paused again, this time just long enough to adjust the guide wire on the solar panel array.

  “Ready to see the cattle?” he asked and smiled when Bree clapped her hands. In the north quarter section, most of the herd had spread out on the other side of a fence. He drove until he found a shaded spot before he stopped to let everyone stretch their legs.

  “Who’s up for a snack?” he asked, pulling a small cooler and an old quilt from the storage area.

  “Are there cookies?” Bree asked expectantly.

  Colt tugged on one of the little girl’s pigtails. “Nah, I’m not a good cook like your mom.” He sent Emma an approving look. The breakfast she’d rustled up that morning was more in line with the Circle P’s traditions. “It’s just cheese and crackers and sweet tea,” he said. He unrolled the blanket under the tree. “You want some?”

  “Uh-huh.” Bree plopped down beside him while Emma helped him dole out the snacks. “Mr. Colt,” Bree asked, “why do the cows have earrings?”

  Colt looked up from the Thermos to study the herd. The little girl was right. The bright orange tags hanging from each ear did sort of look like jewelry. He cracked a smile. “Cows don’t have names. Their tags are how we keep track of them.”

  “They have to have names,” Bree declared. “Look, Mrs. Wickles. That one’s Spotty. There’s Blackie. That’s Red.” After asking permission, she took her doll closer to the fence, where she continued assigning pet names to every cow in sight.

  Colt slanted a look at Emma. “You know we raise beef cattle, right?” For her benefit, he added, “The tags contain microchips that hold detailed records for every head—parentage, birth weight, how much they’ve grown at certain milestones, vaccinations. If we need data on a single cow, we run a scanner over the tag and download the info straight onto the computer.”

  “That sounds like a lot of paperwork,” she said, pointing out the obvious. “Who handles it?”

  “My dad did it all.” The cattle shimmered. A hard knot formed in his chest. “I’ll never be the man he was,” he said, his voice ragged, “but I’ll do my best.”

  “I remember the first time I wanted to hang a picture after Jack died. It’s tough, doing things that were always someone else’s responsibility.”

  “Yeah.” He let his gaze drop to a pair of dark eyes, where understanding glistened. Emma’s fingers stroked his wrist. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, tracking the cattle, that’s one of my jobs now. We used to jot everything down by hand. It’s easier with the scanners. Course you still spend hours pulling your hair out over it.”

  Smile lines deepened slightly around Emma’s mouth. She reached up and tugged on his hat brim. “Looks like you’ve got plenty.”

  Colt stretched out, munching on a cracker. “I imagine it’ll be a might gray around the edges by the time Royce and Randy take over. The day-to-day operation is enough to keep us all busy, but we’re already startin’ to plan the winter cattle drive. Birding tours, too. The folks from Beaks and Wings said they might be interested in doing a feature article.” Bird-watchers all over the world subscribed to the glossy magazine.

  “It’s beautiful here.” Emma waved a hand. “Restful. You must love it.”

  He swept his gaze over the familiar scene and tried to see the place through her eyes. Like cotton balls, white clouds dotted a sky that was more turquoise than blue. Distant trees provided the only break in perfectly flat land that rolled to the horizon. Wind danced across the field of fresh tall grass. He heard the cattle pulling and eating, and suddenly it hit him: this was home, his home. In all his travels, there’d never been another sight or smell or sound exactly like it.

  “I do now,” he managed.

  She paused, a small frown niggling her perfect lips. “Why did you leave?”

  “Chalk it up to being young and foolish, I guess.” Colt helped himself to another cracker. “Then Dad died and…and things changed. Suddenly, what I was doing didn’t seem so important anymore.”

  “But you don’t see yourself staying on permanently?”

  Was that a wishful look in her eyes? Colt leaned back on his elbows, his boots crossed at his ankles. There was a test hidden somewhere in her questions. He wasn’t sure he could pass it, or that he wanted to, so he stuck to honest answers. “I’ve thought about getting my own place. Raising bulls for the rodeo. Maybe I will…one day.”

  “You’re a natural for this kind of work, Colt.”

  “Because I’m big and strong?” Teasing, he flexed his arm.

  Emma shook her head. “I had no idea there was so much work involved. Here you’re giving me a tour of the ranch, but you haven’t stopped working from the time we left the barn.”

  After making sure the cattle still captured Bree’s attention, Colt leaned down to steal a kiss. “I wouldn’t exactly call this work.”

  She placed her hands flat against his chest. “Hmm, nice. But I’m onto your ways. You’re trying to distract me.”

  “Am I doing a good job?”

  Cicadas buzzed, their low drone providing a pleasant background to the quiet sounds of cattle chomping on the thick grass. It felt right, slipping his arm around Emma’s waist while Bree stood at the fence. Soon, a calf wandered over to investigate the visitor and, for the next few minutes, the two youngsters entertained each other. The opportunity was too good to pass up, and Colt stole another kiss. Okay, maybe it was three.

  All the while, he told himself he should get moving. The thousand and one responsibilities he’d shouldered as manager of the Circle P waited for him back at the ranch house. He needed to check up on the workers, make sure they were doing the jobs he’d assigned them. Instead, he held Emma a little closer, enjoying the feel of his hand round her waist, her slim legs pressed against his own.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

  Chapter Nine

  They had to stop. Now, before things went too far and she lost her heart to the man with the tumbleweed existence. The one who shared too many traits in common with her late husband, her father. The one whose goals in life didn’t include the house, the family, the roots that were so important to her.

  Yes, there was more to Colt tha
n she thought at first, and his kisses—oh, how they made her ache for more. But, summoning a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Emma reluctantly pulled away.

  “I think we’d better head back. I hear people expect dinner on the table at six each night.” She traced the inside of his arm and silently begged him to deny it when she added, “They tell me the boss is a stickler for tradition.”

  Much to her chagrin, he offered no resistance. His mesmerizing eyes lost their dreamy quality. He pushed himself to his feet, rounded up the remains of their snacks and stuffed the trash into a garbage bag, which he slung into the back of the ATV.

  Dusting off his hands, he turned to her. “If we leave now, we’ll have time to swing by the little house. The boys say it’ll be ready for you and Bree by tomorrow.”

  Emma stood, still holding the blanket where she and Colt had recently traded kisses. Moving out of the main house meant no more wandering down the stairs on a sleepless night to wind up on the couch with Colt. Not having his scent waft out at her every time she opened the closet. An end to the dreams that came from her head on his pillow. While the promise of a place of her own had drawn her to the Circle P, the little house couldn’t make up for all the advantages of staying right where she was.

  But moving was the smart thing to do. The only thing to do, since letting herself get closer to Colt would only lead to heartbreak when he realized they had different goals for the future. Ignoring the little voice inside her heart that argued maybe she should have thought of that before she kissed the man, she summoned Bree from the fence where her daughter had spent the past fifteen minutes making friends with the calf.

  “Hey, sweetie, let’s go.”

  “I can’t, Mommy. Baby Girl needs me to feed her.” Bree held out a handful of freshly torn grass.

  Any thought of arguing with her died when Colt swept Bree high into the air. “Baby Girl, huh? That bull calf has to learn how to eat all on his own. Next time we come back to check on him, you’ll see. Soon, he’ll be bigger than you are.”