by Tori Kayson
That thought startled her. The slightest of breezes drifted over them, bringing the clean scent of pool water that clung to his clothes along with leather and spice. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, the scent comforting her as much as the knowledge that her son was all right. All because of this man.
“Yes?” The one word lingered in the air.
She knew the energy he’d expended to save her son, to protect him. Didn’t she slide under the covers every night, exhaustion weakening every limb?
Her lids flickered back up and she met his steady gaze, void of the impatient vibes her ex-husband surely would have given off by now. Like tapping his shoe or checking his phone for the zillionth time. She cleared her throat. “‘Thank you’ seems pathetically inadequate.”
The hard angles of his face softened, including his mouth, and he winked again. “It’s a start.”
“Thank you, then.” On a sudden impulse that both terrified and thrilled, she threw herself at him. She locked arms around both boy and man and planted a quick peck on the startled man’s cheek.
Logan squirmed under her pressure, but his rescuer only sucked in a giant breath and held it as he patted her back.
Awkward! The poor guy. She was squeezing the stuffing out of a stranger, but she couldn’t help herself. His quick action saved her son from drowning. She pressed a cheek to his chest, his wet shirt dampening her skin as much as her tears. Relief flowed through her limbs, and her legs threatened to give out on her. When she was sure she wouldn’t lose it in front of him, she stepped back and swiped a palm across her cheeks.
His entire body sagged, visibly loosening its tautness. His smile came out more on the brittle side, but his tone was soft, tender almost. “You’re welcome. Anytime.”
What happened to the amused expression, the teasing tone? Right now, her heart could handle that. Not so much the compassion warming his face.
His boots started moving again at warp speed, the leather soles squishing pool water with every step. Huff, slosh. Huff, slosh. Was he angry? Or worried about a wife’s reaction?
What had she been thinking? She could have slapped her forehead, but settled for a quick glance at his profile.
He had a strong jaw with a smattering of whiskers and a slight cleft tucked into his cheek. Thick muscled arms cradled her boy against his heart as if ...as if Logan actually meant something to the man. Logan’s head bobbed above his rescuer’s shoulders, and his hand curled around the man’s neck.
With the exception of those loud puffs coming from the man’s rapid stride, he didn’t seem angry. But neither did he look like any of the cowboys from around here. Not in the way he walked, his legs moving across the lawn with athletic grace and good posture, as if he didn’t spend most of his days on the back of a horse. And not in the way he dressed. His jeans were too new, too starchy and stiff, his shirt too pressed. At least, they had been before the unexpected dip in the pool. She’d seen that much from her brief glimpse when they first arrived.
He twisted to look at her over Logan’s head. Honey colored eyebrows hiked high on his forehead and that amused expression returned. His chest puffed up and his shoulders straightened. Confidence oozed from every step.
Seriously! He’d caught her gawking at his legs.
She dipped her head, hiding her embarrassment behind a curtain of hair as heat crawled up her neck. Sure, she had her sights set on finding a kind, hardworking cowboy to settle down with, but—
“A pair of boots would be nice, too.” The rescuer’s deep voice sounded as if he was finding this whole situation entertaining.
“Oh!” Her hand fluttered to cover her mouth while her gaze skittered to his leather boots. They looked as if he’d just plucked them off the showroom shelf before the unanticipated swim. But now…ruined.
He clomped up the porch, water squishing from the soles.
“I’m so sorry. Of course.”
“Not for me. For the boy.” He plucked one boot from Logan’s foot and tipped it upside down. Water spurted and drained onto the deck. He tossed the soggy footwear and it landed with a thud on the wood planking. He repeated the process. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll ride into town with you and get replacements for mine.”
“Sure. But, I’ll be glad to buy you a pair, too.” Small price to pay for saving her son.
“No need, but thanks. I was due for some new boots anyway.”
“Really? You could have fooled me.” She arched an eyebrow and dipped her head to glance pointedly at his boots, but he didn’t bite. “Are you a guest at the ranch?”
“You could say that. Mind getting the door?”
She scrambled to open the door, and he carried Logan inside. For a guest, he seemed fairly familiar with the layout of the house already. But she hadn’t been to the ranch in over a week, so it was possible that he’d checked in right after her last event here.
Rebekah hurried into the kitchen, clutching a towel. “Is Logan okay?” Her worried gaze skimmed from the cowboy to Logan as she pressed the bath towel into Summer’s trembling fingers.
“He wescued me!” Logan’s voice came out excited and not at all sorry, and his body suddenly wiggled to life.
The cowboy lowered her little guy to the floor with great care and even more huffing.
Summer draped the towel around Logan’s shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, a tight squeeze with every ounce of love from her heart, unable to dredge up any real anger over the situation. Her son was safe! “Yes, he did.”
She glanced up at the cowboy and met his appreciative gaze. Oh yeah. He was definitely her hero. It took all she had to tear her attention away from the giant of a man and back to her son. “Did you tell him thank you?” She twisted Logan’s shoulders around so he could face his champion.
“Tank you, mister.” Logan’s head tilted back, the wet ends of his brown hair skimming the towel. Droplets trickled onto her hands.
Aww, that was her sweet boy. She could picture those chocolate donut hole sized eyes begging the man to pay attention. To look at him, to talk to him, to play with him.
Just like he did every time he was around his father.
Cowboy crouched on squishy boot soles, Logan-level, and balanced forearms on thick thighs. His expression was serious, but his gray eyes gleamed with kindness. “You’re welcome, little dude.” His hands curled around Logan’s shoulders. Gentle fingers grazed hers, zapping her pulse with an energy she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not even around Wade. “No more swims for you today, though, all right?”
Logan nodded.
“But if you’d like to go for a swim, just ask. We’ll be glad to take you when you’re properly dressed and supervised. Got it?”
Another nod.
That seemed to satisfy the cowboy. He flicked his head once and stood, his exhale, sharp and painful sounding. He pressed an arm against his abdomen again.
“So Logan doesn’t need a return visit to the ER, but what about you, Maverick? You don’t look so good,” Rebekah said, worry in her tone and bunched forehead.
“I’m all right, Mom. Just a little short on breath.”
Mom? So this must be Maverick then, the other son. Kierra and Rebekah mentioned him occasionally, but only bits and pieces. He lived in Dallas. What else? She searched her memory, but came up short.
Was he married? Her gaze darted to his left hand. No wedding band circled his finger.
What was she doing? A lack of ring meant nothing! Life with her ex, a deputy sheriff, attested to that.
Hadn’t Judd always insisted that in his line of work a ring could kill him? That there was even a rule against wearing jewelry in the employee handbook?
Lies! To cover up the real reason he refused to wear a wedding band.
But surely this Kester, even if he lived in Dallas, lived by the cowboy code. A man of truth and honor, one who kept his promises. A man who treated animals and children with respect.
A cowboy! The news seeped into her weary spirit, reviving a
nd soothing all the lonely places. Welcome home, Maverick Kester. Welcome home.
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I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from ROPING THE MARSHAL, Book 2 of the Kester Ranch Cowboys series. Look for it to release 2/2/16. ©Tori Kayson 2015
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About the Author: Tori Kayson writes sweet romance that sizzles! When she finally rolls back from the keyboard, you’ll find Tori hunched over a kindle, hanging out with family, or sipping coffee on a mountain cabin deck. Tori shares her life with her real life hero and one very spoiled dog. Connect with her on Twitter, Facebook, and ToriKayson.com. Sign up for Tori’s new release alerts here.
