The Rancher's Lullaby (Glades County Cowboys)

by Leigh Duncan

  “Hey, now,” Garrett murmured. “Easy.”

  Uncertain whether he was speaking to her or the horse, Lisa maintained her death grip. But the rancher must have been talking to her because—one by one—he pried her fingers from the thing he called a pommel.

  “Relax, sweetheart. You aren’t going to fall.” Garrett’s strong hands threaded leather straps through her much smaller ones. “Hold on to the reins,” he instructed. “Use them to tell Gold which way you want to go. A little tug to the left or the right, and he’ll take you in that direction.”

  “Uh, I want to get down.” Panic sent her heart rate climbing. She shifted, pulling her legs out of the stirrups. On an ordinary day, under ordinary circumstances, she’d have basked in the warmth that spread from Garrett’s touch when he snaked one arm around her waist. But today was no ordinary day. These were no ordinary circumstances. From what seemed like too far away, she heard Garrett insist that everyone on the ranch knew how to handle a horse.

  “I don’t live on a ranch,” she shot back as a second wave of dizziness swept over her. She abandoned her hold on the reins in order to shove at Garrett’s arm.

  “Look, darlin’,” he said, his tone irritatingly even and reasonable. “You’re gonna have to ride some during the roundup.”

  Lisa glared down at him. “I don’t remember that being part of the contract.”

  “It’s implied. Here now, put your feet back in the stirrups.” Garrett guided one of her feet into place. “I’ll lead Gold around in a circle.”

  His hand slipped from her waist. Garrett grasped Gold’s bridle. The horse lifted a massive hoof, and she jerked to the side. She swayed in the opposite direction as he took another step. Off balance, she grabbed fistfuls of the horse’s mane and held on tight.

  “Garrett,” she gasped before the horse covered much ground. “Stop,” she whispered, as powerless against the panic as she was unable to stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

  Garrett’s head whipped around so fast he nearly lost his Stetson. “Lisa, jeez, gal. Whoa, Gold.” He backtracked the two long strides to her side.

  “I... When he moved... I’m scared,” she finally managed. She put her hands on Garrett’s broad shoulders. “I want to get down.” Instead of the helping hand she expected, the big rancher only gazed up at her with a perplexed expression.

  “Do you think you could hang on for just one minute longer? Let me try one more thing?”

  Why couldn’t she just get down? she wondered. But she couldn’t deny Garrett, no matter how badly she wanted to be anywhere else but where she was.

  Gently he slipped her boot free of the stirrup. Cupping his large hand around the pommel, he swung easily onto the horse’s hindquarters. He scooted forward until his chest brushed her spine.

  “Here now, lean against me,” he instructed.

  The instant she felt him behind her, Lisa drew in a thready breath. Another breath followed the first as her fear practically melted away. She blinked at the sudden realization that she trusted Garrett to protect her. The idea was a novel one, and she took a moment to absorb it. After all she’d gone through with Brad—the cheating, the disappointments—she hadn’t expected to trust any man. Not for a long time. If ever. But here she was, literally entrusting her life to Garrett. She leaned against the rancher’s chest. She didn’t object, not even the tiniest bit, when he slipped a second strong arm around her waist.

  “Ready?” he murmured into her hair.

  Lisa drew in a steadying breath. She was safe, she reminded herself. In Garrett’s arms, she had nothing to fear. With that thought, the last of her panic evaporated.

  “Ready,” she answered.

  Garrett clucked to the horse. Gold plodded forward. The rocking motion that had frightened her only moments earlier wasn’t nearly so startling with her back pressed against Garrett’s chest, his strong arms cocooning her. The horse’s ears flicked forward, and Lisa risked a look at the corral and the yard beyond. In the distance, she glimpsed a blue expanse of water she’d never have seen from the ground. Past that, cattle grazed on green grass.

  “Better now?” Garrett’s deep voice caressed her ear.

  “Much.”

  By the time they made one trek around the corral, she relaxed enough to loosen her hold on Gold’s mane. After the second round, she took the reins from Garrett’s hands. Though she hated it when he removed his arm from her waist, by the time he did, she felt she could ride this way forever.

  “Want to try it on your own again?” Garrett asked after they’d looped around the track three times.

  “I think I can,” she answered, her confidence growing.

  “That’s my girl. Don’t worry. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

  Lisa caught a glimpse of Garrett’s easy grin as he swung one leg out behind him and slipped to the ground. She managed to keep her lips from wobbling as she met his warm gaze. “I’m not worried. Not as long as you’re close by.”

  For the next half hour, she let Garrett lead Gold in circles around the corral.

  And honestly, it wasn’t bad. Maybe horseback riding wasn’t how she’d choose to spend her free time—she’d much rather practice her banjo or learn a new song—but with Garrett at her side, she decided she wouldn’t mind giving it a try. After they finished, when he walked her back to the house and offered to give her riding lessons, she agreed. But she admitted, if only to herself, she wasn’t half as interested in getting on a horse as she was in getting closer to Garrett.

  Chapter Eight

  Garrett hefted the guitar from behind the backseat of his truck. Tipping his hat to the folks stuck in Okeechobee’s version of late afternoon gridlock, he wove his way between the half-dozen vehicles stopped at a light. A wry smile tugged at his lips when a lone, impatient driver honked a horn. He wondered how the guy would handle rush hour in Atlanta, where cars crowded the streets no matter what the time. Tension gripped him at the memory of daily hour-long commutes. He shook it off with a roll of his shoulders.

  He ran his thumb along the crisp edge of the deposit slip in his back pocket. Thanks to his brother, he’d never have to deal with another big-city traffic jam. Hank had outdone himself, finding a buyer for the house in Georgia and propelling the sale through closing in record time. Garrett swallowed against the ghost of old dreams that rose when he imagined another family moving into the place that had been his and Arlene’s.

  He stopped to resettle his Stetson. No regrets, he ordered. He couldn’t change the past, could only control the future. A future that included a permanent home in Glades County for him and little LJ.

  The tension returned. This time, his jaw clenched. He hated the idea of uprooting his son again, of finding a new job, a new place to live. If it were up to him, he’d stay right where he was, continue doing the work he loved on the Circle P. But after their dad’s funeral the family had promised the manager’s slot to his twin brothers. He’d had no choice but to honor that decision. At least now, with the proceeds from the Atlanta sale, he could afford a place of his own close by.

  Striding past the bakery, he considered the other changes that loomed on the horizon. Much as he had loved Arlene, he couldn’t see spending the rest of his life alone. Sooner or later, he’d have to dip his toe into the dating pool. Things would be different this time around, he guessed. More than a wife and a helpmate, any woman he chose would have to be a good mom for his little boy.

  As he pushed open the door to Pickin’ Strings, Garrett wondered if a tall, leggy blonde would make the cut. Knowing the answer, he didn’t bother to shake his head. Lisa had no ties to Okeechobee. Nothing but a music store she’d likely turn over for a good profit within the year, maybe two. Plus, the woman wanted to have a baby in the worst way. And while he respected her dream, it was one he couldn’t help her fulfill.

  But when the cheerful jingle of the bell above the door drew the woman in question out of the break room, his determination to keep his distance wavered
a bit. He stood his guitar case on end, more than a little surprised that he had to anchor his fingers on top of it to keep from reaching for her. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on his dating skills, maybe flirt a little, just to see if he still had the hang of it. And what better woman to practice on than Lisa, the one who’d firmly set the boundaries of their relationship at friendship and nothing more?

  “Flip that Open sign to Closed, will you?” In a motion that was anything but flirtatious, she balanced on one foot while she tugged a high-heeled boot from the other. The motion loosened a few curls from the simple updo she’d chosen over her usual braid. She brushed them aside with the back of an ink-stained hand. As if she’d recently stretched to reach something down from a high shelf, her shirt bloused loosely at the top of her skirt.

  “Busy day?” he asked with a nod to the tape dispenser she carried with her.

  “A bunch of orders came in over the internet this morning. Filling them has kept me on my feet all day.”

  So the store’s newly launched website had generated a number of sales. He supposed he should feel happy for her, but disappointment formed a hard knot in his stomach. Lisa had mentioned selling the shop once it landed solidly in the black. Every sale moved that day one step closer. His mixed feelings aside, he asked if she needed some help.

  “No, I just wrapped up the last package.” She waved a hand, beckoning. “Come on back and we’ll get started. Have you been practicing that song we were working on last time?”

  He had, but over the weekend, another idea had snagged his attention. “If it’s all right with you, I sorta hoped we could do something a little different tonight.”

  “Oh?” Lisa’s second boot hit the floor. Words floated over her shoulder as she padded toward the break room in stockinged feet. “What’d you have in mind?”

  It was one thing to practice songs for the roundup with Lisa, something else again to ask for her help on the new project. He sucked down a nerve-settling breath. “I’ve been trying my hand at a song—a lullaby—for LJ. The tune came together without any trouble, but I’m having the devil’s own time coming up with the right words.” He watched Lisa closely. At the slightest hint of reluctance on her part, he was determined to drop the matter.

  “A lullaby, huh?” With an easy grace, Lisa set the dispenser on a table littered with scraps of packing material. In one corner stood a stack of neatly labeled boxes. “Can’t say as I’ve ever written one of those before. I’ve mostly concentrated on ballads. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Relieved when she didn’t laugh or so much as lift a challenging eyebrow, he broke out his guitar and played the first few bars. The last of his concerns melted at the dreamy, faraway look that drifted over Lisa’s face.

  “Catchy, Garrett,” she said when he’d finished. The corners of her mouth lifted. “Makes me think of that picnic spot where we took LJ last weekend. When you play, I can practically hear the water running over the stones in the brook that ran past the maple tree.”

  The tree had been an oak, the brook a drainage ditch, but if the image put a light in Lisa’s eyes, he didn’t care what she called them. She grabbed a pencil off the counter and took a pad of paper from a nearby drawer.

  “Okay.” Sinking onto the small couch in the corner, she patted the spot beside her. “What do you want the song to say?”

  “Go to sleep,” Garrett joked.

  Enjoying the sound of the laughter that spilled through Lisa’s lips, Garrett made himself comfortable next to her. Once settled, he sobered. In truth, he wanted to sing about love, wanted to write a song that conveyed his hopes for his son’s future.

  Even with Lisa’s skills as a songwriter, crumpled pages littered the floor by the time they finished. As he’d known she would, she rejected one imperfect line after another, changing a word here, a phrase there, until the poetry and music blended together perfectly. Warmth spread outward from the center of his chest when, at last, he strummed his guitar while Lisa sang the words they’d written in a clear voice.

  Last night when the stars were out,

  I was only thinking of you.

  I didn’t know how blessed I’d be

  to have a love so true.

  You’ve changed my life, my world, my fate. To me it’s all brand-new.

  Forever yours I’ll always be,

  our love forever true.

  “I think that about does it, don’t you?” Garrett asked as the last notes faded.

  Rather than answering right away, Lisa paused for a moment. “You should sing it on the roundup. It’s good.”

  At his skeptical glance, she added, “Really good.”

  He rubbed one hand over his face. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this.”

  Not in so many words, maybe, but he could definitely show her how much it meant to him. As they worked, they’d shifted closer until her slender hip nudged his. Her lean thigh pressed against his thicker one. When she inhaled, he noted the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath her thin white blouse. He leaned in to brush his lips across her cheek. Or he planned to.

  Six weeks, he thought a split-second before he glided his lips onto the smooth, silken skin. She’d made him wait six weeks for this kiss, and damn if he wasn’t going to put his best effort into it.

  Any hope of keeping his distance from Lisa died when she exhaled a tiny breath and lifted her face to meet his. Her lips melted against his. Cupping her face in his hand, he covered her mouth with his own. Tasting of lemon and heat, she opened to him at the first brush of his tongue. His thumb landed on her pulse point, where he felt her ratcheting heart rate. He reached for her, the movement hampered by the guitar strap that held his arm in place. He groaned, wishing he’d thought this through, wishing he’d thought to lean the instrument against the wall. Making the best of things, he slipped one hand around Lisa’s waist, intending to deepen the kiss and follow it wherever it led.

  The shift was subtle but unmistakable. Ever so slightly, Lisa’s enthusiasm dimmed. The barest whisper of a cool breeze passed between them. As someone who’d once made his living by counting seconds on the back of a bucking bronc, Garrett registered the lessening pressure of her lips against his in the instant before she broke away.

  “Garrett. We can’t.”

  She was right, of course. Getting involved with her made no more sense today than it had the day they’d met. She was still a coworker. She still wanted a baby. She was still leaving. Any one of those reasons was good enough to rein in his libido. And though it got harder and harder to resist temptation every time he saw her, he had to try.

  * * *

  LISA GLANCED DOWN at the notes she’d taken while Doris ran through the itinerary for the roundup. So few customers came into Pickin’ Strings at the end of the day that she’d decided to close the shop a little earlier during the week of the cattle drive. The extra hour gave her plenty of time to drive to the Circle P, where a ranch hand would bring her to the campsite. Most nights, she and Garrett would entertain the group around the fire after supper.

  “We like to have an old-fashioned hoedown one night at the pole barn.” Doris ran her finger down a lengthy checklist. “There’s a stage of sorts—it’s nothing much. Just plywood and two-by-fours. But there’s plenty of room for dancing. Our guests usually like that.”

  “I’ll print out the words to some old favorites and pass them around to start things off.” Lisa added the item to her short to-do list. She knew plenty of rollicking tunes that would get blood pumping and toes tapping.

  Doris fanned her papers. “This is the largest group we’ve ever taken on the roundup. They might be expecting a lot. Are you sure you and Garrett can keep them entertained?”

  “We have everything under control,” Lisa offered in answer to the older woman’s concerned expression. “Garrett was pretty good on the guitar before, and he’s worked hard at his music these past few weeks. You’ll be amazed at how much better he’s gotten.” Lisa smiled,
thinking of the nights they’d sat, knees practically touching, while they practiced.

  The slightest impression of a frown deepened the creases in Doris’s lined face. “Well, I think that covers everything but the sleeping arrangements.”

  “Oh?” Uncertain why that particular item on the woman’s checklist had anything to do with her, Lisa followed up with a questioning glance.

  “The guests have rooms in the bunkhouse down by Little Lake. The ranch hands sleep in tents nearby. I’ve assigned you a room.” Doris curled her fingers inward and studied the unpolished nails. She hesitated. “Unless you have other plans.”

  “Are you saying I can’t catch a ride to the Circle P after we’re done each night?” Though the subject hadn’t come up, she’d assumed someone would drop her off at her car.

  “The trails are pretty rugged. We don’t travel them after sundown except in an emergency.” Garrett’s mom looked up from her fingers as if Lisa had missed the point. “So, single accommodations? That’s all right with you?”

  At Lisa’s soft “I guess,” an odd stiffness melted from Doris’s shoulders.

  “Okay, then,” the older woman said brightly. “We’ll get you all set up. And don’t worry. The bunkhouse is so well-appointed, you’ll hardly know you’re camping out.”

  Lisa smothered a laugh. Stifling heat, mosquitoes and air so thick it practically dripped moisture? She was pretty sure she’d notice the difference between that and her comfortable apartment. She shrugged, certain she’d stayed in worse places during her years on the road.

  “We’ll have you fed and back to the ranch by seven each morning.”

  “That’s early.” Lisa underlined the time on her pad.