Not Just Another Cowboy (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Finch, Carol

  Bright and early Monday morning, the plumbers would arrive to install the fixtures. Alexa’s construction project was near completion. Chance wished he could be around for the grand opening, but he was scheduled to ride at Forth Worth.

  He knew it was time to move on, before he got so damned attached to Alexa and that kid that he would leave too much of himself behind.

  Now there was a laugh, Chance thought as he plucked up the list of errands. He’d done that already. He’d lowered the drawbridge to carefully guarded emotion and got himself hooked on a woman who was out of his reach. And the kid, Chance thought, sighing morosely. That little boy’s memory was going to follow him around for a long time to come. It would be right alongside Alexa’s.

  When Chance took the spill that injured his leg, he had never dreamed there would be more to heal than just tendons and ligaments around his knee. Turned out he was going to leave nursing a wounded heart.

  “Help!” Alexa exclaimed the instant she walked into her sister’s arts and crafts shop.

  Deb appeared from beneath the front counter, frowning in concern. “What’s wrong?”

  Alexa blushed when she realized there were two older women browsing at the back of the shop. The women were staring curiously at her. Alexa pasted on a nonchalant smile and waved in greeting. “Hi, Freda, Evelyn. Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, dear, it certainly is. How are things at Rocking T?” Freda questioned.

  “Is the bed-and-breakfast ready to open for business?” Evelyn wanted to know.

  “Things at the ranch are dandy fine. I’ll be open for business next month,” Alexa called out, then turned as casually as she knew how to face her sister. “I need your help, Deb. On a whim I accepted a date with Chance. I have no makeup or suitable dress, nor do I have money to spare to make frivolous purchases. Do you have anything I can borrow for tonight?”

  Alexa must have looked harried and desperate, because Deb patted her shoulder consolingly. “Leave it to me, sis. I’ll turn you into Cinderella for your first official date with that Prince Charming cowboy.”

  Deb waved her arm in expansive gestures to draw the older women’s attention. “Yo, Freda, could I impose on you and Evelyn to mind the shop for a half hour. I have an errand to run with my sister.”

  “You girls go right ahead. Not to worry, we’ll take care of things here.”

  “Are you sure you want to leave the shop in their hands?” Alexa asked worriedly as Deb ushered her out the door. “You might find a few crafts missing when you return.”

  Deck clucked her tongue. “Oh ye of little trust. Freda Mayse was my sixth-grade teacher. You think she would rip me off?”

  “Stranger things have happened,” Alexa reminded her as she made a beeline toward her pickup. “I really appreciate this, sis. I haven’t dated in eleven years.”

  “And you’re as nervous as a caged coyote,” Deb teased. “Not that it shows or anything.”

  Alexa put the truck in gear and sped toward Deb’s apartment. “Why did I agree to this? My head tells me this is a mistake.”

  “What does your heart tell you?” Deb questioned.

  “My heart shouldn’t have a say in the matter. I’m simply following your advice and putting a little diversion in my life. I’m not planning to date every eligible man in town, as you’ve done.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Deb said, then giggled. “You make me sound like a third-rate floozy.”

  “I’m sorry.” Alexa’s shoulders slumped and she tried to relax. “Men have been attracted to you since you were fourteen. I should know, because I had to beat them off the front porch with a broom. You’ve got that natural inner sparkle that men find irresistible. I never drew that kind of attention.”

  Deb shook her head. “Give yourself some credit, sis. You’re an attractive woman with a great body and paralyzing green eyes. Problem is that you’ve downplayed your femininity and do so much physical work that your supply of makeup has long since dried up and been discarded. If you ask me, Chance Butler is the first good thing that has happened to you in a long time. This date is your opportunity to remind yourself that you are a woman with your own needs.”

  “A woman with a son to raise, a father-in-law in the same house, a ranch to run and a bed-and-breakfast to complete,” Alexa added, then threw up one hand—the other one was clamped around the steering wheel. “I must have lost the good sense I’ve spent years cultivating. What have I done? I have no business going out on a date.”

  “You’re getting a life. You need this date,” Deb tried to convince her. “You deserve this date.”

  Boosted by Deb’s enthusiasm and encouragement, Alexa parked in the driveway, then followed her sister into the apartment. Deb headed for her closet, and Alexa marveled at the rack of fashionable clothes at Deb’s disposal. The woman had always had a knack for bargain hunting. She selected flashy, eye-catching garments that accentuated her feminine assets.

  Alexa, on the other hand, had three mix-and-match ensembles she wore to church. The rest of her wardrobe consisted of faded blue jeans and T-shirts, which suited her life-style of working on the ranch.

  Deb thumbed through the garments, then pulled out a sleeveless silk dress.

  Alexa gave her head a firm shake. “No way. I don’t even have a bra that I could conceal under that plunging neckline. I absolutely refuse to go without one.”

  “I have a Wonderbra you can borrow,” Deb said helpfully. “Come on, sis, let loose a little. You’ll look fantastic in this dress.”

  When Alexa hesitated, Deb thrust the dress at her, then grabbed the Wonderbra from the dresser drawer. “Put these on so I can do your hair and makeup. I only have thirty minutes, you know. Don’t want the gun-toting Freda and thieving Evelyn to make off like bandits at my shop.”

  Reluctantly, Alexa peeled off her blue jeans that had seen better days. She fastened herself into the dress, which fit like a glove. More cleavage than she’d displayed in her life reflected in the mirror. Self-consciously, she tugged at the neckline—to no avail.

  When Deb returned two minutes later, Alexa crossed her arms over her exposed chest—it only made things worse. “This isn’t me,” she grumbled.

  “Oh, it’s definitely you and you’ll definitely have to borrow my trench coat for the drive home,” Deb said, eyes gleaming with sisterly pride and satisfaction. “You’ll have men chasing after you. Good thing you’ll have that hunk of cowboy to protect you this evening. Wouldn’t think of sending you out alone in that dress. You’d start a riot.”

  Alexa stared seriously at her grinning sister. “Do you really think I look okay?”

  “Okay?” Deb hooted. “You’re dynamite.” She motioned Alexa toward the chair that sat in front of the makeup table. “Sit, Cinderella. Your fairy godsister is working on a short clock.”

  Alexa sat, then grimaced when Deb grabbed her hair and brushed it vigorously. In record time, Deb twisted the mass of curly auburn hair into an elegant twist and pinned it atop Alexa’s head. Then Deb tugged a few wispy curls loose around Alexa’s temples. With dedicated concentration Deb applied base, powder, eyeliner and mascara. With a flair she brushed on blush, then stood back to appraise her handiwork.

  “You’re going to knock that cowboy dead,” she announced.

  Alexa wrinkled her nose. “Gee, that should be a fun date.”

  “Do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Use that playful, teasing tone and rely on the dry wit you’ve stifled since you turned into Ms. Serious and Responsible.”

  Deb squatted down in front of her sister. “Let the real you shine through tonight, okay? Even if Butler turns out to be a cowboy who walks away without looking back, dance with him, talk to him, laugh with him. You’ve spent most of your time simplifying the world for young Zack and catering to an old man who lives in the eternal past. You need to share adult companionship. You really need this, Alexa.”

  One night, Alexa promised herself. She would hones
tly try to put all thoughts of her complicated life aside for a few hours of carefree enjoyment.

  Deb patted Alexa’s nylon-clad knee. “Now get me back to the shop, pronto. I have to close up, then run back here to shower and change for my own date.”

  “With whom?” Alexa asked as she followed Deb through the bedroom door.

  Deb paused to grab the trench coat, then draped it over Alexa’s shoulders. “I’m going out with a groping drug pusher,” she said saucily.

  “Deb!” Alexa squawked, appalled.

  “He’s the new physician in town.” Deb snickered mischievously. “We bumped into each other at the grocery store—literally. I pulled out in the aisle and slammed into his basket. We had lunch together yesterday.”

  “Divorced?” Alexa quizzed.

  “Nope, never married. He’s a city slicker from back East, but I promised to teach him to fit into rural America.”

  “Such a dedicated humanitarian,” Alexa said, then grinned.

  “Keep that up, sis,” Deb encouraged. “Saucy and spirited become you.”

  Alexa repeated the compliment during the drive home. She felt like a cross between Cinderella and My Fair Lady. Gosh, she hoped this wasn’t a mistake. She knew she needed a diversion, but she would probably be better off going out with a man she didn’t care all that much about. If she had a grand time with Chance, it would only make it more difficult to bid him goodbye.

  But truth was, she wanted to dress up to please him. She shouldn’t feel guilty or irresponsible because she was going out on the town for one night. It wasn’t as if she was going to make a habit of this, after all. This was one night, a space out of time, and she was going to let herself enjoy it!

  Chapter Seven

  Chance sat on the broken-down sofa, wrestling with his blue jeans. Trying to tug his breeches over the brace strapped to his leg was like pulling teeth—and it hurt like hell. But he refused to strap the damn brace on the outside of his pants, not when he was going out on an official date with Alexa.

  Muttering, Chance wiggled and tugged. Finally, the denim slid over the straps. Awkwardly, Chance came to his feet to zip his fly. That done, he limped over to grab his best blue Western shirt.

  After fighting the battle of pulling on his boots with a lame leg, Chance set his Resistol hat on his head and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was scrubbed clean and didn’t look too bad for a beat-up cowboy, even if he did say so himself.

  On his way to the door, Chance realized he was more nervous than he’d ever been when he rode into a rodeo arena that was teeming with spectators. Roping and throwing a calf didn’t faze him. Flinging himself off a galloping quarter horse to bulldog a steer didn’t bother him. But walking up to the ranch house to pick up Alexa had his belly twisting like a pretzel. He realized that it was important for him to make a good impression, to show her a good time. Lord knew she deserved it, knew she rarely allowed herself personal pleasure.

  Damn, talk about operating under pressure! Chance tugged at his starched collar, startled by the constricting feeling in his throat. You’d think this was the first time he’d gone out with a woman. That was a laugh. Up to this point in his life he had picked up—and been picked up by—dozens of women. The only difference was that Alexa Tipton was unlike the feminine masses who’d come and gone from his life.

  Chance halted on the porch, composed himself, then held behind his back the bouquet of flowers he’d purchased while running errands in town. The small velvet box was tucked in his shirt pocket. He was raring to go and had come bearing the niceties that dating a true lady required.

  When the door swung open, every cheerful pleasantry he’d rehearsed flew out of his head. The woman standing in the doorway, wearing a sleek red dress that showcased the full swells of her breasts and accentuated the trim curves of her hips, was strikingly beautiful. It was the first time Chance had seen Alexa with makeup and a dress. The effect left him speechless... aroused.

  Holy mackerel! This diamond in the rough was a sparkling jewel, whose radiant—yet tentative—smile blinded and beguiled. Chance felt himself stagger back, felt his mouth drop open.

  “Alexa...” he bleated like a stunned lamb. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  She looked enormously pleased with the compliment. “Think so?”

  His gaze ran the full length of her once, twice, three times. Sure enough, the effect she had on him intensified with each sweeping appraisal. He could feel himself growing hard, felt hungry need thrumming through him with each accelerated heartbeat.

  Before the temptation of casting the bouquet aside and pouncing on her overtook him, Chance gave himself a mental slap. “You take my breath away,” he wheezed as he pulled his hand from behind his back to present her with the flowers.

  Alexa’s jaw sagged, her eyes rounded. She stared, bewildered, at the red roses, then at him. A mist glistened in her eyes, and Chance had the feeling Alexa had never been courted properly, at least not in a decade or so.

  She touched the velvet petals appreciatively, then bent to inhale the delicate fragrance of the roses. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect this.”

  Chance fished out the jewel box from his pocket. “Then I suppose you weren’t expecting this, either.” He opened the box, displaying the delicate gold chain and heart-shaped pendant.

  Alexa’s jaw scraped her chest as she reached out a trembling hand to uplift the necklace. “Oh, my...”

  “It’s a rhinestone, not a diamond,” he told her. “It caught my eye while I was in town this morning. Just as you caught my eye the moment I saw you.”

  The look she gave him was priceless—a real Kodak moment that Chance wished he could have captured for all times. She seemed honestly shocked by his consideration and generosity. It was as if he had made her day, maybe even her decade.

  Alexa Tipton, Chance decided, had never been truly appreciated or recognized for the incredible woman she was. It made him feel small and insignificant to realize that while he had been surrounded by fame and recognition—a well-known name in the rodeo world—Alexa worked tirelessly, unselfishly, expecting and receiving no gratification.

  God, he wanted to hug her to him and tell her that she was special, unique, appreciated. But if he did, he’d never set off on this official date. The hug would become a kiss, a caress, and he’d be lost to these tormenting needs he’d been trying to hold in check.

  “Here, let me fasten the necklace in place,” he offered as he lifted it from her fingertips.

  He moved behind her, trapped in the essence of this lovely woman and feeling a little light-headed. His hands were shaking slightly as he grazed her bare skin and fumbled with the clasp.

  “I don’t know how to repay you,” Alexa murmured.

  Chance felt her shiver delicately as his hand skimmed the back of her neck. He couldn’t help himself, he pressed his lips to her scented skin and felt the jolt of heightened awareness sizzle through him.

  “Bake me a cake,” he suggested in a strangled voice. “A chocolate layer cake.” His mouth glided to the auburn ringlet that dangled by her left ear. “With lots of thick chocolate icing.”

  He heard her breath catch, felt his heart race. Clutching desperately at his failing self-control, Chance took her hand and towed her toward the door. “Come on, darlin’, if we don’t get out of here now, I’m going to run out of reasons to leave.”

  Practicing every gallant manner he’d ever learned, Chance opened the door of the pickup truck and assisted Alexa into the cab. As she eased onto the high seat, Chance was granted an enticing view of hose-clad legs. Gorgeous legs, he noted appreciatively.

  Get in the danged truck, cowboy, Chance snapped silently. Don’t stand there gawking. Show her the best time she’s ever had and don’t let her think for even one minute that you’re expecting anything except an enjoyable evening in the company of a beautiful woman.

  Chance took his good advice and clambered into the truck. He kept thinking of the movie,
Pretty Woman, marveling at the transformation in Alexa’s appearance. Though he considered Alexa devastatingly attractive even when she dressed down, she was every man’s fantasy when she dressed up.

  An hour later, while they sat in Willowvale’s most exclusive restaurant—the only one that had a name that didn’t end with Bar and Grill—Chance realized that Alexa was unaware of the attention she was attracting. The woman honestly didn’t know how stunning she was, how male gazes kept drifting magnetically, repeatedly, in her direction. Chance felt like Ms. America’s escort for the evening.

  “I was so moved by the flowers and gift that I forgot to tell you how handsome you look,” Alexa said as she leaned forward. When she realized she was providing him with an unhindered view of cleavage, she straightened in her chair. But it was too late. Chance had to pry his gaze off her chest. Damn, she was easy on the eye, and hard on a man’s blood pressure.

  “I really like your blue shirt, Chance,” she murmured.

  He grabbed his cup of coffee to occupy hands that itched to caress. “Thanks, ma’am. I save it for special occasions,” he drawled.

  Her thick, mascara-lined lashes swept down, then up. A saucy smile pursed her lips, and Chance inwardly groaned at the devastating effect she was having on him.

  “You are a special occasion,” she confided. “I haven’t been out for dinner, except to pick up burgers and fries with Zack, in years.”

  All the more reason to treat Alexa like a queen, Chance thought as the satisfaction of her compliment flooded through him.

  “Well, look who’s here!”

  Chance twisted in his chair to see Debra Parsons and the distinguished-looking Suit at her heels. Deb cleaned up as spectacularly as her sister did, Chance noted. The plumcolored dress Deb wore suited her fair complexion and blond hair. The Suit seemed out of place in the surroundings that bobbed with cowboy hats.

  “Hi, Chance,” Deb said, eyes twinkling. She reached out her hand to draw the Suit to the table. “Chance Butler, this is Kurt Stevenson, M.D. And this is my sister, Alexa.”