To Tempt a Cowgirl

by Jeannie Watt

  “How long until you get your next project?”

  “Until I think of it. I’m doing some spec designs.”

  “Ah.” She got down from Molly and rubbed the horse’s neck.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s amazing.” She couldn’t help smiling at Gabe. “Want to try your skills on her?”

  “Uh...”

  “Just get on. I’ll lead her.”

  “I can ride. It’s just been a while.”

  “Twenty-five years?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “She’s quiet. You won’t have any trouble. I wish my novice owner had brought me this horse instead of Lethal.”

  “Lethal?” Gabe asked as he laid a hand on the mare’s neck.

  “His real name is Lieben, German for ‘to love.’ It doesn’t quite fit him.”

  “I’ll give her a try,” Gabe said.

  “Great. Give me a second to adjust the stirrups. This saddle might be a little small for you, but it’ll do.”

  * * *

  DANI ADJUSTED THE STIRRUPS, then walked around to the horse’s left side. “All right. We’re set.” Gabe went to stand beside her, trying to remember something, anything, about riding a horse. “Now you’re going to put your foot in the stirrup, grab the mane so you don’t pull the saddle off, then shift your weight up over the horse, like this—” Dani demonstrated, then dismounted “—so you don’t pull her over.”

  “Lot of detrimental pulling possibilities,” he muttered as he put his hand on the horse’s neck.

  Gabe followed her directions, grabbing the mane along with the reins in his hand and shifting his weight over the center of the horse as he mounted. Molly swayed a little, but stayed put as he swung his leg over. Automatically he gathered the reins, surprised at how natural it felt. Maybe there was still some of his innocent eight-year-old self somewhere deep inside.

  Dani came over and adjusted the slack in the reins, covering his hands with her smaller ones as she pulled the leather through his fingers until she was satisfied. “Yes. Like that. Now give her a very slight nudge with your legs.”

  He barely moved his heels and the horse calmly moved forward. He resisted the urge to grab the saddle horn, which would have been difficult anyway since he had the reins in both hands. Dani said nothing, but instead retreated to the edge of the pen, where she watched as he rode in a slow circle.

  “You have a good seat,” she called.

  “So do you,” he called back.

  She laughed. “Probably not talking about the same thing, are we?”

  “Maybe not,” he agreed, amazed at how right it felt being back on top of a horse. Molly wasn’t nearly as tall as Dozer had been—or at least he didn’t think she was—but his memory may have been warped by his only being about four feet tall at the time he’d ridden the Thoroughbred. But he felt just as...free was the best word he could think of...now as he had then.

  “You’re either a natural or you had lessons you didn’t tell me about.”

  “Just a few rides on my foster sister’s horse.”

  “She taught you well.”

  “I was eight.”

  “You remembered, so she did something right.”

  “She put up with a needy eight-year-old.” Gabe glanced at Dani as he rode by.

  “I can’t see you as ever being needy.”

  “I worked hard not to be, but at that age, sometimes you crack.” He rode on past, but not before catching the thoughtful look on her face. He didn’t like sharing, never had, and now he had her thinking. He didn’t want her thinking about his life, feeling sorry for him or anything.

  “You want to trot?”

  “Not really,” he said, recalling Dozer’s bone-jarring gait with a mental grimace.

  “She’s smooth.”

  “Fine.” He nudged and she started to trot. Gabe started to bounce. Oh, yeah, just as he remembered.

  “Don’t use the reins to balance yourself. Sit back on your seat and let your abs take the shock.”

  “Trying...” His teeth clacked. Posting. Jenny had taught him to post.

  “You need to be supple in the waist, not tight. Let yourself bend.”

  Uh-huh. Bend...

  Molly had a nice slow trot and after a few more teeth-clacking steps he made a serious effort to relax his middle, and follow the movement of the horse. The jarring diminished.

  “Don’t lean back,” Dani called.

  “So much for being a natural.”

  “Don’t be so freaking hard on yourself.” She folded her arms, watching him with a critical eye. “There, you’re sitting better. Feel it?”

  “I do. And I’m ready to stop.”

  “No loping?”

  “Not today.” He pulled back gently on the reins and the mare obediently dropped to a walk, bobbing her head up and down as she walked.

  “Nice. Bring her over and dismount.”

  He got off a bit more awkwardly than he got on, but he made it to the ground and then as Dani took the reins from him, he found himself smiling down into her face.

  “You liked it, didn’t you?”

  “Felt a bit awkward, but yes. It brought back some pleasant memories.”

  “You’ll have to tell me about those,” she said as they started walking together toward the gate.”

  He shrugged casually. “Not a lot to tell. I was eight. I lived with that family for about a year before my mom decided she wanted to try again. What a cluster-you-know-what that was.” He opened the gate and Dani led the mare through, stopping to wait as he closed the latch.

  “So,” she asked slowly, “it was pleasant because you weren’t with your mom?”

  He considered for a moment, then said, “Yes. I’d say that sums it up well.”

  “Sad.”

  “Yeah. Well, we can’t all have a sitcom life.”

  “I didn’t have one of those, either,” Dani said as she led Molly to the hitching rail. She hooked a halter around her neck, then took off the bridle and masterfully replaced it with the halter. Gabe automatically reached out for the bridle, taking it from Dani as she shot him a quick look. “But I did love living with my mother...even if times were rocky after Dad died.” She started undoing the cinch, focusing on the leather as she said, “What about your dad?”

  “Who?”

  “I see.”

  She stilled as he put a hand on her shoulder, then slowly turned toward him, holding the leather strap in one hand, a faint frown on her face as his hand fell away. “Dani, I...” He frowned back at her, then said, “I don’t talk about this stuff.”

  She shrugged to hide her disappointment. She wanted to know more. “I understand,” she said as she began to turn away. He stopped her with another gentle touch.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” he said as his hand ran down her arm to gently circle her wrist. “I mean that I’ve never talked about this with anyone who didn’t know me back then.”

  “Has anyone asked?”

  “Maybe in a superficial way.” He ran his thumb over the smooth skin of her wrist before letting go. “Then I would use my many talents to redirect the conversation.”

  “I can believe that,” she said as she pulled the saddle off the horse, “even though your childhood isn’t your fault.”

  “I know.” At least the early years weren’t his fault, but keeping his past a secret was something he did. Logical or not, he didn’t like people to know that his mother had valued her messed-up lifestyle more than him.

  He took the saddle from Dani and she smiled up at him, albeit a touch wryly. “I’ll stop asking questions.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said gruffly, surprised that he actually meant it. “I just can’t guarantee answers.” She opened the tack-room door, he stowed the saddle, then stepped back outside.

  “I guess I can say the same,” she said as they walked back to where Molly was tied. “Don’t mind the questions, can’t guarantee the answers.”

  She
untied the mare and together they walked the few yards to the pasture.

  “In that case—” Gabe opened the gate and she led the mare through “—I have a question. What was your fiancé thinking when he cheated on you? Is he stupid or something?”

  “Yes,” she said matter-of-factly as she unfastened the halter buckle. “He was stupid and he thought I was stupid, too.” She patted the mare on the butt as she released her. “I was—at first. Chad was pretty clumsy in his clandestine affairs, but I trusted him. Eventually I caught on, though.” Dani sighed as they started back toward her house.

  “Clumsy how?” He should probably stop asking questions, because in spite of Dani’s detached tone, he could see that this wasn’t an easy topic.

  “Oh, texts came in at odd hours. He’d read them, smile and delete. He did it right in front of me, told me they were dirty jokes from a friend and that he didn’t want them on his phone.” She blew out a breath. “He’d ‘work late,’ then come home missing his vest or something. When I finally confronted him, he denied it at first.” She glanced over at him, her expression growing hard as she said, “But after I showed him the panties I found in his car, he confessed and said that the only reason he hadn’t broken things off with me sooner was because he knew it would kill me to lose him.”

  “There’s some ego for you.” The kind of ego that made him want to smack the guy a good one on general principle.

  “I think...” Dani shook her hair back as they crossed the driveway to the walk. “I think that he had every intention of keeping us both hanging on for as long as possible. I think he was into the danger factor.”

  “I know people like that.” They stopped at the end of her walk, under the aspen tree whose roots were buckling the concrete. “How long were you together?”

  “We’d gone out for a long time—since high school really. We went to different colleges, but hooked up when we got out and both moved to Missoula. I honestly had thought he was my perfect mate. I mean, we did so well together...”

  “Except for that cheating thing.” He reached out to lightly put a hand at her waist and she moved toward him, stopping just before her chest came up against him.

  “Yeah. That cheating thing.” She addressed the middle of his chest before raising her gaze to meet his. “Screws things up every time. And now—” she let out a short breath “—he’s back in town. Moved here with his new wife—the other woman, of course—to manage a local branch of a bank.” She put her hands on his chest, spreading her fingers over his flannel shirt.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Mmm,” she replied absently, her focus still on his shirt. “It does make going to the grocery store more of an adventure.”

  “Have you guys bumped into each other yet?”

  “Nope.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, then looked up at him. “I had a chance to a week or so back and chickened out. An Eagle Valley Days planning session. He was there. I didn’t go in.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “I blame me. I was a blatant coward.”

  “Who wants an uncomfortable reunion in front of a crowd?” he asked reasonably.

  “Nobody wants that, but I expect more of myself.”

  “Knock it off,” he said huskily, before taking her lips in a long, deep kiss that had her sliding her arms up around his neck and pressing the length of her body against his.

  “I don’t know what it is about you that has me breaking promises to myself,” she said as she stepped back, putting some space between them.

  “Hard to resist?” he asked on a wry note. Because that was exactly how he was finding her.

  “Obviously.”

  “I don’t want you breaking promises.” Doing things before she was ready. He didn’t want to screw up whatever was growing between them and that thought gave him pause. His objectives were getting muddled here, which usually didn’t happen to him.

  “You make me wonder why I’m making them,” she said in a low voice. Then she gave her head a small shake as if clearing it. “That said, I’m not quite ready to make that phone call we spoke of.”

  “Understood.” And he also understood that for now that was a good thing. “Eagle Valley Days—what are they?” he asked, grasping at the first safe subject that came to mind. “Is it a reunion or something?”

  “Community celebration,” she said, her voice a little husky as her eyes dropped briefly from his eyes to his lips—which wasn’t doing his self-control a whole lot of good. “There are all kinds of events. Parades, ice-cream socials, a pig roast, carnival booths, a dance with a silent auction—that’s what I’m supposed to help with, even though I truly doubt I’ll attend the dance. And, yes, come to think of it, there are reunions, because a lot of graduating classes plan their reunions to coincide with Eagle Valley Days.”

  “Makes sense. And that way you aren’t trapped with your graduating class if you didn’t particularly like them.”

  “Did you go to your reunion?” she asked curiously.

  “I doubt I would have, had I actually graduated.”

  “You didn’t graduate high school?”

  “I took a nontraditional approach to my education,” he said with a half smile.

  “But you have a college degree.”

  “Worked my ass off to get into college and then to get through.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Someone once hit me upside the head and pointed out the error of my ways. I changed,” he said simply.

  “Changed from what? Or do I want to know?” she asked as she pushed the door open.

  “Changed from the wrong path to the right one.”

  “Ah,” she said as if she understood, when he knew she hadn’t a clue as to how close he’d come to being a criminal before Stewart stepped in. There were times even now when he looked back and shuddered at how damned close his life had been to going down the crapper.

  Once inside he crossed to the kitchen to retrieve his laptop, his footsteps echoing across the almost empty room.

  “You need furniture,” he said as he returned to find her waiting for him by the door, an uncertain expression on her face as if she was debating her next move. He knew exactly what he wanted that move to be—and it didn’t involve her suddenly offering to sell her ranch.

  For a moment their gazes held and even though she said, “I’ll eventually get a few things, a sofa and such,” he sensed that was not the true direction of her thoughts.

  “After you pay for your arena.”

  “Yes.” She forced a smile that Gabe wasn’t buying. She was fighting with herself and he could tip the scales. All he had to do was cross that space and take her back into his arms, and she would be his. He had no illusions that it was all about him. She wanted to purge some memories, help herself move on, and he was there. And it bothered him that he wanted it to be more than that. Again, those muddied objectives. How had that happened?

  “The arena will ultimately make me money. The furniture will only cost me money.”

  “Interesting way to look at what some people consider a necessity of life.”

  “You mean an indoor arena?” she asked innocently.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

  Dani sighed and took a few steps into the room, stopping in the middle with her hands on her hips. The tension between them began to diminish as they edged back into their roles of friendly neighbors. “I have kind of thought about hitting the local thrift stores to see what they have. And Craigslist.”

  “But you’re too busy.”

  “Not a lot of hours in the day for that kind of stuff. I’ll have a little more freedom when Jolie moves home.”

  Except that he’d seen to it that that wasn’t going to happen in the near future and right now hearing Dani talk so confidently about her sister coming home was kind of killing him. Who the hell did he think he was?

  Someone who was simply trying to get everything to work out well for e
veryone involved. Including Dani and her sisters.

  Especially Dani and her sisters.

  Yeah. That’s who he was.

  * * *

  “IT’S HIS HEART,” Neal said, making good on his promise to call Gabe after his father’s appointment with his physician. “He got called in for a cancellation appointment this morning. As luck would have it, I was with him in the car when he got the call, so I got to go along.”

  “How bad?” Gabe asked, deducing from Neal’s grim tone that the situation wasn’t good.

  “Potential for heart failure. The cough is from fluid building up in his lungs because his heart isn’t doing its job as well as before.”

  “Shit.” Gabe pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “How did Stewart take it?”

  “Oh, he was shaken up for a whole minute, maybe two, then went straight into denial—like he can finagle his way around this the way he does a business deal gone wrong.”

  “So what happens medically?”

  “They’ll lower his blood pressure with drugs, but there isn’t a lot we can control in this situation, including Dad.” Neal cursed again, then muttered, “The doctor was clearly worried, Gabe, and so am I.” He exhaled deeply. “So is Dad, or he wouldn’t have rushed into denial so damned fast.”

  “I agree.”

  “His blood pressure has skyrocketed since his last physical.” Neal gave a soft snort before asking, “Do you remember how cool he used to be? So confident that he’d figure out a way to come out on top, regardless of how a deal was going down? He never sweated.”

  “One of the things I’ve always been in awe of,” Gabe stated honestly. If plan A didn’t work, Stewart would calmly swing into plan B, followed by plan C if necessary—until last year, when matters had become personal and the cool factor had evaporated. Now plan B was a vendetta and there was nothing cool about Stewart’s drive to compete head-to-head with Timberline.

  “I’m getting close on this property thing,” Gabe said, although he should have been closer. He had reasons for moving slowly in the beginning, but now...now he was allowing personal issues to get in the way of his objective. That damned muddied objective.

  “Nailing down the property won’t fix everything, but I think it’d help. That last news article about Jeffries’s ‘unique approach to resort management’ almost sent Dad over the edge.”