Eugene watched the final decorations with a smile on his narrow face. “Mighty fine work, folks.”
From his perch in Boone’s arms, Josh stared in fascination at the completed snowman. “Will he come alive now?” he asked hopefully.
“Hard to say,” Boone replied. “I’ve heard sometimes that happens after dark. I’m afraid we won’t be here to see that.”
“I’ll check it out for you, young man,” Eugene said.
Josh nodded. “Good. ’Cause he might come alive. He gots a hat and that makes snowmens come alive.”
“You folks have time for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate before you go?” Eugene asked. “On the house.”
“Hot chocolate!” Josh bounced in Boone’s arms. “Bob wants some, too!”
Boone thought of the miles they had yet to drive. He’d cleaned the snow off his truck, but they still needed to transfer Shelby and Josh’s belongings into it. Sebastian was expecting him to roll in before nightfall, and they should leave soon in order to make it by then.
“We need to get a move on,” he said, lowering Josh to the ground, “but why don’t you give me your keys, Shelby? Then you and Josh can go on in and have something warm to drink while I load your stuff into the truck.”
She glanced at him. “Why don’t you give me your keys and I’ll move everything while you and Josh go in and have something warm to drink.”
Eugene laughed. “I can see a Mexican standoff coming. Let me take that boy in for some hot chocolate while you two get your loading done. Then Norma will fix you two coffees to go. How’s that?”
Shelby smiled. “That would be wonderful, but I hate to put you to the trouble.”
“No trouble. Helping folks out is what gets us out of bed of a morning.”
“Well—”
“Can I, Shebby?” Josh tugged on her hand. “Can I, please?”
Boone understood Shelby’s hesitation. He was a little reluctant to let Josh out of his sight, too. He still believed Mason could come back.
“All right,” Shelby said finally. “We won’t be long,” she added, glancing at Eugene.
“Take your time.” Eugene held his hand out to Josh. “Come on, son.”
“Bob needs some, too.”
“We’ll make sure Bob gets some,” Eugene said. “Let’s go see if Norma has some marshmallows to put on top.”
“Yum!” Josh hurried off, hand in hand with Eugene.
Shelby gazed after them, her expression uneasy.
Boone longed to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders, but he didn’t dare. “He’ll be okay,” he said.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She sighed. “It’s just that ever since the accident I’ve kept really close tabs on him. Preschool in the mornings has been the only time he’s been out of my sight, and all the teachers there had strict instructions not to let anyone take him out of school for any reason.”
“I’m sure Fowler’s well down the road by now.” Or so he hoped.
She turned to him, her blue eyes serious. “You’re probably right. But let’s not leave Josh in that café any longer than necessary.”
“Go on in with him, Shelby. I can handle this.”
She smiled. “Oh, no, you don’t. Open up that big truck of yours and I’ll be there with our stuff before you know it.” She started toward the rental car.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He fell into step beside her, his boots crunching on the snow. “I’ll help you carry. I’m betting that the back seat is piled high.”
“You’d win that bet. I wasn’t sure how long we’d be gone, so I threw in everything I could think of that Josh might want. His whole toy box, practically. I hope you have room.”
“No problem. We can put some in the back of the king cab with him and some in the camper.” He held out his arms. “Load me up.”
Shelby laughed as she unlocked the back door of the small sedan. “Gonna pull the big-strong-man routine, are you?”
“A guy has to go with whatever works. Big-strong-man works for me.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that. I think big-strong-man is what you do best.”
They were flirting with each other, he thought, and they both knew it. He shouldn’t be doing that, and soon he’d have to tell her why. He’d hoped to put it off for a while longer, because he’d selfishly enjoyed the spark between them.
She piled toys into his arms—trucks and cars of various sizes, colorful boxes full of games and puzzles, and a whole zoo of stuffed animals. In the process she kept bumping and nudging him, and he didn’t think it was accidental. He longed to drop the whole pile and pull her into his arms. He figured she wouldn’t mind if he did.
His urges were getting out of hand, so he pretended interest in the toys. “Looks like this kid knows how to have fun.”
“Materialistically, he’s in good shape.” She added more toys to the pile. “My parents used to give me money, lots of money, and ask me to buy the Santa Claus presents.”
Boone rested his chin on top of his stack to keep it from toppling. “A grandma who doesn’t want to buy presents for a grandkid?” He couldn’t picture such a thing. His mother had gone wild buying things for his nieces and nephews.
Shelby gathered an armload of things and kicked the door shut with her foot. “Past tense,” she said tightly.
He closed his eyes. Damn. Well, that sure took care of the sexual tension in a hurry. “Sorry,” he said.
“Hey, you can’t be expected to remember.” She started toward his truck. “Even I don’t always remember. Ever since the accident, there are times I’ve been absolutely sure I’ll wake up and it’ll all be a bad dream.”
Boone followed her. He felt helpless and inadequate because he couldn’t think of anything to say or do that would ease her pain. In his experience, the only thing that worked at a time like this was simple human contact. More than anything else, Shelby needed to be held. And he was not the man for the job.
When they arrived at his truck, she rested her pile on the hood and turned to him. “Keys?”
Whoops. He should have taken his keys out of his pocket before she loaded him to the chin with toys. “They’re, uh, in the right front pocket of my jeans.” He felt the heat of a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks, but it was more from guilt than embarrassment. He wanted her to get those keys, wanted her hand sliding into his pocket. He was truly a pig.
She smiled and walked toward him, the teasing, flirty light back in her eyes. “If you were any other man, I’d say you engineered that on purpose.”
“I swear I didn’t.” Not consciously, at least.
“I believe you. Hold still and I’ll get the keys.” She walked behind him, which allowed her to shove her hand into his pocket the same way he would do it.
The process seemed to take forever. And although the sensation should have been exactly the same as if he’d been digging the keys out himself, it wasn’t even close. And he was getting turned on. Very turned on.
“Got ’em.” She stepped around in front of him and dangled the keys from her hand. “Now, wasn’t that fun?”
His breath caught at the hunger in her eyes. If he tried to kiss her now, she wouldn’t stop him. Oh, Lord. “Maybe a little too much fun,” he said.
She gazed at him. “Boone, are you attracted to me?” she asked softly.
He swallowed and knew he had to come clean. Especially when she was looking at him like that, with eyes as clear and blue as a mountain lake. “Yep. Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?” The sparkle faded from her eyes. “Is that because you’d rather not get involved with a woman in my crazy situation?”
“It’s not your situation. It’s mine.”
Her eyes clouded. “Good grief. I should have guessed. You have a girlfriend.”
“No, not exactly.” He took a deep breath. “But I have…a baby girl.”
Her jaw dropped.
He could imagine what she was thinking, and how her glorious pict
ure of him had just shifted to something a lot less flattering. He hated having her think less of him, but truth was truth. “It’s complicated. I just found out a few days ago, and I need…that is, I’m not sure what her mother will need…”
“Of course. You don’t owe me any explanation whatsoever,” she said quickly. “Forget I said anything. Your private life is none of my business.” Avoiding his gaze, she held up the keys. “Which one?”
“The one with the round end.” He felt completely miserable. “Listen, I do owe you an explanation after what happened last night. You probably think I’m some sex fiend.”
“I most certainly do not.” She unlocked the door and started fumbling with the catch that would release the front passenger seat and give him access to the back. “You’re human, that’s all. There’s no crime in that. And you’ve been more than kind to Josh and me. How foolish of me to start imagining that you—oh, hell! Why can’t I figure out this stupid seat?” And she started to cry.
To hell with whether he was the right guy to hold her or not. She needed a shoulder. “Move over,” he said.
Turning, she leaned against the truck and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God.” Her body quivered with each muffled sob.
He dumped the armful of toys in the front seat, turned and coaxed her into his arms. “Come here, Shelby.”
With a wail of despair she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against the leather of his jacket.
He held her close, murmuring words of comfort as he stroked her back. Damn, she was tiny. The top of her head, even including the stocking cap she wore, only came to his breastbone. In order to kiss her he’d have to stand her on a box. Not that he intended to kiss her. He’d love to, but it wouldn’t be right.
His job was to hold a frightened woman while she cried. She felt so small in his arms that he might have been comforting a kid. Except he knew better. Her breast had felt lush and full in his hand, her bottom nicely rounded and inviting against his groin. It was crazy, considering how different they were in size, but she fit more perfectly into his arms right now than any woman ever had. He could stand here holding her forever.
Slowly her sobs grew weaker and farther apart. At last she sniffed and rested quietly against him. “I don’t suppose you have a handkerchief?”
“Sure.” He continued to hold her close with one arm while he reached in his back pocket, pulled out a clean red bandanna and handed it to her.
She took it with a watery chuckle. “This is too perfect. The cowboy who saved me at Yellowstone gave me a red bandanna, too.” She blew her nose.
Instantly he was jealous. “What cowboy?”
“When I was seven and on a family vacation, I got lost, and this cowboy was out riding and found me. That probably explains why I have this thing for cowboys.”
“Oh.” So he was only a generic attraction. His grip on her loosened.
In contrast, hers tightened up. “That came out wrong.” She gazed up at him, her nose red and her eyelashes still spiked with tears. “I might have noticed you because you’re a cowboy, but now that I know you as a person, I like you because of who you are, not what you are.” She managed a smile. “Thank you for letting me get your leather jacket all wet. You’re the best, Boone.”
He was still stuck back on her earlier comment. “Do you go out with a lot of cowboys, then?”
She looked confused. “Why would you think that?”
“You said you had a thing for cowboys.”
“Oh.” She toyed with a button on his jacket. “That sounds really bad, doesn’t it? Like I hang out at country-western bars and pick up anything in a Stetson. The truth is, I haven’t gone out, period, not since Josh was born, and I’ve never dated a cowboy. It’s just that you showed up right when I was in trouble, sort of like in Yellowstone when I was seven and that other cowboy showed up. It made me realize I’ve always sort of…” She glanced away, her cheeks turning rosy. “Never mind. I talk too much. We need to get the truck loaded.” She tried to step back.
He held her captive. “Tell me.”
“It’s silly. And it has nothing to do with you.”
“Tell me anyway.” How he loved holding her. Absolutely loved it.
“Okay, but I’m warning you, it’ll sound dumb.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him again. “I think, subconsciously, I’ve been wishing my cowboy would come along some day, and sweep me off my feet. Like some girls dream about their Prince Charming. I realize after meeting you that I’ve been dreaming about my cowboy, who would lift me up to his saddle and we’d ride off into the sunset together. I even wonder if I was headed up to Yellowstone to find him. Well, not him, exactly. He’d be older than dirt by now. But someone like him. Stupid, huh?”
He gazed down at her, a lump in his throat. If he didn’t have a baby and obligations waiting for him at the Rocking D, he would kiss Shelby this very minute. He wouldn’t need a box. She was so light he’d be able to lift her up. She could wrap her legs around his hips and they could kiss all day like that. And he would sweep her away.
Shelby nodded. “Don’t worry, you won’t hurt my feelings if you think that’s a juvenile fantasy. I know it’s not very adult to still believe in fairy tales. I’m working on that.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Don’t work on it. Don’t change yourself, Shelby. It’s a good dream.”
“But it’s still just a dream,” she said. “I need to focus on reality at the moment.”
“I wish you didn’t have to. Damn it, I wish I could be your—”
She laid a finger against his lips, silencing him. “It’s okay,” she whispered.
This time, when she stepped out of his arms, he let her go.
7
MASON WAS at a disadvantage trying to watch oncoming traffic for a glimpse of Shelby and Josh, and he hated being at a disadvantage. There was a good chance he’d pass them without knowing it in the split second he’d have to figure out who was in each car. And he felt like a fool for believing the story he’d been fed. He was usually more suspicious of people than that, but those local yokels hadn’t seemed smart enough to trick anybody.
When he’d nearly reached the motel without spotting them, he decided he’d have to start his search by getting some straight information from that lying little motel owner about what kind of car the bitch was driving and exactly when she’d left the motel. The scrawny little guy and his overweight wife should be easy enough to intimidate. After all, they were pretty isolated on this lonely stretch of road.
First he’d cruise past the place, though, and get the lay of the land. With luck, no other customers would be around to interfere with the questioning process. If the motel owner knew what was good for him, he’d cooperate. Mason was so damned hungry his stomach hurt. That, on top of being lied to, had put him in a really bad mood.
The first thing he saw as he drove past the place was a big old king cab sitting in the café parking lot. He vaguely remembered it had been there when he’d left. The second thing he saw nearly made him swerve off the road. That dumb-ass cowboy was standing beside the truck, and unless Mason missed his guess, the little lady in his arms was Shelby.
His heart beat faster. Yep, it was her, all right. He’d seen her in that ski jacket a few times. The two of them seemed oblivious to the world. So that’s how things were.
She must be mighty grateful to that cowboy. Mason could just imagine how she’d shown her gratitude. He ground his teeth together. Patricia had been a runaround like that, too, ready to trade her sexual favors for whatever she wanted. He’d never trusted her around other guys, not from day one. Well, she’d got what she deserved, and now he intended to get what he deserved.
Josh was nowhere in sight, and Mason wondered if there was any chance he could snatch the kid while these two were pawing each other. Obviously he needed to do a little reconnaissance work.
He continued south until the road curved to the right and he could no longer see the motel in hi
s rearview mirror. Parking carefully on the snowy shoulder, he left the motor running and grabbed his binoculars. The large snowbanks left by the plows gave him good cover while he hiked back to where he could see the motel parking lot.
Damned snow might as well be good for something. In fact, a snowdrift made a perfect bunker, hiding him from passing cars as he crouched down and peered through his binoculars.
What a charming couple. Made him want to hurl, just watching them. He searched the area for Josh and saw no sign of the little brat. But he was somewhere around, sure as the world, probably pestering the café owner for candy or cookies. Mason had that covered. He’d stowed a ton of candy in the Land Rover. Candy was cheap and it usually worked to keep the kid quiet.
The cowboy and Shelby managed to tear themselves away from each other, and Mason watched closely, trying to figure out what was going on. When he realized what they were doing as they loaded things into the big truck, he cursed a blue streak. Damned cowboy was taking her with him.
Mason’s plan was shot to hell. He could do fine against the bitch, but the cowboy put a whole new spin on things. The guy might be dumb as a post, but he was big. He probably thought of himself as some frigging Sir Galahad, ready to defend Shelby to the death.
The courts would excuse a man for pushing around the woman who’d kidnapped his son. But with the cowboy around, that wouldn’t be easy, and although Mason could always use his .45 Magnum to take the big guy out, he’d have a tough time making it look like self-defense.
Maybe, if he studied the situation, he could engineer another accident to get rid of both Shelby and this John Wayne type. He probably couldn’t top the genius of that boating accident, though. Even Shelby, who hated his guts, didn’t suspect a thing. That had been one slick operation.
Mason kept his binoculars pointed toward the café, and eventually the scrawny motel owner and his fat wife appeared with Josh. A sickening farewell party followed—hugs all around, until it pained Mason to watch them slobber all over each other. That was one thing he’d liked about Patricia’s old man and old lady, besides the obvious advantage that they’d been filthy rich. They hadn’t gone in for all this hugging shit. To Mason’s way of thinking, a hug was wasted energy unless it counted as foreplay. He’d hug a babe any day of the week if she looked like she’d put out.
Boone’s Bounty Page 8
