Seduction, Cowboy Style

by Anne Marie Winston

  “You don’t have any Longhorns, I notice. See, I do know something about cattle.”

  He almost smiled that time. The corners of his eyes crinkled and she could see twin flames of merriment dancing in the blue depths. “We don’t like Longhorns. They’re hardy but they have a cantankerous nature. A lot of ’em are just flat-out mean. And the cows get real feisty when they have calves running around.” He shook his head. “The outfit on the other side of ours runs Longhorn. I’ve had words with that guy about keeping his bulls away from my cows.”

  Apparently there were a few topics on which Deck would speak in full sentences, she thought, hiding a smile. “You mean his bulls get onto your land.”

  Deck gave a disgusted snort. “They get onto more than just my land.”

  “Oh.” She could feel her cheeks growing warm. But if she was going to spend any time out here, she was going to have to get used to the blunt discussions of animal husbandry that could be overheard nearly everywhere a person went. “I guess crossbreeding isn’t a good thing.”

  “Depends on the breeds you’re working with. Longhorn crosses are hard on Angus cows,” he said. “So are Charolais. The calves have large heads and often the births are hard.”

  “When are calves born?” she asked.

  “Springtime,” he said. “Generally middle of March, except for a few late calvers.” He grimaced. “And there’ll be a few early ones if that damned Longhorn bull was in with the cattle for very long.”

  “How old are the calves when you brand them?”

  His eyebrows rose. “About two months. Marty and I are going to be branding late calves next week. I’d invite you to watch, but it’s pretty nasty.”

  “I don’t mind. Would it bother you if I came over?”

  He hesitated and an oddly blank look came over his face. Then he shook his head. “No. If you can stomach it, you’re welcome. I might even put you to work.” He paused. “Why so many questions? You thinking about going into the business?”

  She smiled. “It’s a little embarrassing to be so ignorant of my own brother’s life. I’m trying to get a picture of what Cal was like as a child. You know, his background, the things that were a part of his upbringing. It’s very different in Virginia.”

  “Did you live there all your life?”

  “Yes. Daddy’s family has been in Albemarle County for generations.”

  “Any other brothers or sisters?”

  She shook her head. “Just Cal. But I have a lot of cousins on Daddy’s side, and there are several near my age that lived close by when I was growing up. I wasn’t lonely.”

  “I’ve never been East,” he said. “What’s the land like?”

  “Mountainous,” she said. “With lots of trees. Out here you can see for miles. At home there are lots of rolling hills. The mountains are old and worn down. And there are a whole lot more people per square inch.”

  “How about water?”

  She laughed. “Trust a rancher to think about water. Yes, there’s water. Streams, rivers, springs, creeks, an ocean a few hours away….”

  “You’ve seen the ocean?” He seemed surprised.

  “If you live on the East Coast, chances are good you’ve been to the ocean.”

  “I’d like to see the ocean someday,” he said. The waitress came over with their food, a steak for Deck and a cheeseburger platter for Silver, and the conversation slowed as they ate.

  Walking across the parking lot afterward, Deck reached for her hand. “How about if I follow you home?”

  She thought for a moment. When she met his eyes, she saw a raw, hot wanting that echoed her own, and the feeling shook her right down into her tennis shoes. “No,” she said. “That would not be smart.”

  He laughed, but it was a sound of frustration more than humor. “No, it wouldn’t be. Let’s live dangerously.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I’ve had my share of danger. I’m looking for safe and comfortable these days.”

  His mouth thinned into a flat line. “Silver, I haven’t felt comfortable since the day you fetched up against me in the grocery store. I can guaran-damn-tee you that you and I aren’t going to be comfortable together.” His lips tilted into a sideways smile. “At least not until we’re both too exhausted to move.”

  His words brought mental images she’d rather not have slipping through her mind. Did he have any idea how badly she wanted him?

  Probably, she decided, noting the glint in his eye. Still, she just didn’t think—

  “As for safe,” he said, “isn’t it better to take a chance sometimes when the reward might be worth it?”

  She looked away from his compelling gaze, swallowing the words of acquiescence that tried to spill from her throat. “I don’t know,” she said softly. He was still holding her hand, and she looked down at their linked fingers. The contrast between his big, dark hand and her own much smaller, pale and slender fingers was marked. It suddenly seemed far more intimate than a simple handclasp, and that sensation of her muscles contracting sizzled its way through her again.

  He must have felt something, because his hand tightened around hers. “All right,” he said. “How about a ride tomorrow? I have to move some cattle in the morning, but later I have to check fences. Would you like to come along?”

  She turned it over in her head but couldn’t see any obvious flaws. On horseback they would be far enough apart to keep her from jumping his bones despite her better judgment. “All right,” she said. “Why do you move cows?”

  “Good grass,” he said. Then, when she waited, he added, “They’re in the smaller winter pasture but this group has older calves that were all branded two weeks ago and it’s time to move them down to the base of the butte.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “You do realize I’ll probably drive you crazy with questions.”

  He chuckled. Then he shifted, releasing her hand and sliding his big, rough palms loosely around her waist as he brought her to face him. “I might need some incentive to keep me talking.”

  “Incentive,” she repeated, feeling bold. They were in a parking lot—again. What could happen? Granted, it wasn’t exactly swarming with people, and dusk was rapidly giving way to full dark, but she felt safe enough here. “And what might I have that you’d take in trade?”

  He moved closer, his hat blocking out the starry sky overhead, and his hands pulled her up against him so that her body was flush against the hot, solid length of his. “This,” he said as he kissed her.

  His tongue should be illegal, she thought hazily as he plumbed the soft warmth of her mouth. Or marked with a big yellow Caution sign, at the very least. As he nipped his way along the line of her jaw to suck her earlobe into his mouth and use that tongue on it, she shuddered, her body so hot and electric she thought she might burst into flames.

  She whimpered, a little sound of please-more-again ecstasy, and his hands moved, one sliding down her bottom to cup a buttock and squeeze gently, his big fingers slipping a little way into the sensitive crease of her bottom and making her buck against him. The other boldly marched over her hip and up the front of her torso to cup her breast and she gasped at the heat that surrounded her. He rubbed a thumb relentlessly back and forth over the fabric of her blouse until she felt her nipple draw into a tight bud that shot lightning bolts of hot sexual need zinging straight to her womb. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed herself up on her toes, trapping the steely bulge at his groin against her belly.

  He groaned and came back to devour her mouth, but some remnant of common sense trickled into her mind and she dragged one hand from the back of his neck. Hastily she thrust it between them, over his mouth.

  “Wait,” she whispered.

  “Don’t want to,” he muttered against her palm, using his tongue to draw little swirly circles right in the sensitive center of her hand.

  “We’re standing in a parking lot,” she reminded him, snatching her hand away.

  The heavy muscles in his arms tighten
ed for a moment, and she had a second of panic. Then his arms relaxed, and she didn’t know whether to be thankful or cry when he pulled back and put a little space between them. “A parking lot won’t do for what I have in mind,” he informed her.

  She swallowed at the hot intent in his eyes and she dipped her head, resting her forehead against his broad chest. “I don’t think I’m ready for what you have in mind.”

  He rubbed his hands down her back, wisely refraining from comment. “I’ll come over after lunch tomorrow and take you riding with me.” He paused for a second and she looked up at him. “Uh, you do ride, right?”

  A bubble of laughter threatened and she almost said No just to see the look on his face. “I ride,” she confirmed. “But I rode English until last week. Cal took me out in a Western saddle.”

  “Good,” he said. “It’s a better way to ride.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Says you.”

  “You go skidding down a steep slope or try to stay on a horse that’s gotten spooked by a snake, and then tell me you’d rather be in one of those flimsy little saddles,” he said.

  “I’d rather be—”

  “Smart-ass,” he growled. He bent his knees and pressed a hard kiss to her lips, then dropped his hands and stepped clear away from her. “I’ll bring a horse for you.” Then he turned her and pointed her in the direction of her brother’s truck, slapping her on the rump like a fractious mare. “Now get out of here while I’m still inclined to let you go.”

  She opened her mouth to make another flip comment but the light of battle gleaming in his eye just dared her to utter it. Hastily she shut her mouth. The last thing she needed was to be tossed over his shoulder and dragged off to his lair to be ravished.

  Even if the thought was a secret delight.

  So she went, getting into Cal’s truck and driving out of the parking lot after giving him an easy wave. He wasn’t far behind her the whole way back to Kadoka, and it wasn’t until he turned off the highway onto his own ranch’s gravel lane that she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been at all sure that the big black truck wasn’t going to follow her right on home.

  Her lane was next, and she drove the miles back to the house, realizing as she did so how dark and lonely it was out here. The dogs who came out from beneath the bushes near the porch to greet her were a welcome sight.

  Inside, the answering machine light blinked. She punched the replay button and after a moment her brother’s voice filled the room.

  “Hey, Silver. Sorry I missed you. Where the heck are you, anyway, at eight o’clock in the evening? I don’t imagine there are too many hot dates hanging around Jackson County.”

  You couldn’t be more wrong, big brother.

  “Anyway, I’ll try to call in a day or so. Looks like I have about a week’s worth of stuff to do before I come home. Let me know if you don’t want to stay that long. I won’t blame you if you don’t. I know living on a ranch in the ass end of nowhere all alone wasn’t what you came to South Dakota for.” Her brother rattled off the number where he was staying in case she needed to reach him and hung up.

  Darn! She was sorry she’d missed him. She had lots to tell him: about Lyn, for one thing, and Deck, for another. Maybe she’d give him a call tomorrow evening.

  “Where’re you taking—” Marty’s eyes widened at the sight of Deck leading the little paint mare out of the barn the next day.

  Deck sighed. Why did Marty have to come out here at this exact moment? Two more minutes and he’d have been gone. “I’m riding fence this afternoon,” he said.

  “I know.” His brother raised one eyebrow. “Since when do you need two horses to do it?”

  “Since I invited Silver to ride along,” Deck growled.

  Marty’s eyes widened. “You invited—And you’re going to put her on Genie’s horse?”

  “She doesn’t get ridden enough,” Deck said defensively. “We’re too heavy for her.”

  “I didn’t say I minded.” Marty took off his hat and lightly slapped it against his leg, but his sky-blue eyes watched Deck the whole time. “You like her?”

  Deck knew he wasn’t talking about the horse. “She’s hot,” he said dismissively, then felt a twinge of shame at the way he’d made Silver sound cheap and easy.

  Marty scratched his head slowly. “Well,” he said, “If she’s that hot, maybe I should be the one to take her riding.”

  The graphic suggestion Deck made had Marty hooting with laughter, but the laughter faded after a moment. Marty squinted in the bright sunlight as he looked up at the seated horseman. “You don’t really want to do this,” he said slowly. “She’s Cal’s sister.”

  “That’s exactly why I want to do this.”

  Marty’s eyes were worried. He fondled the ears of his Australian cattle dog, Streak, with an absent hand as he watched Deck turn the horses and ride out of the barn. Then he shrugged. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “I’d be bored in ten minutes if I listened to that.”

  Deck took a fairly direct route to the McCall outfit, inspecting the line of fences as he went. Once he crossed onto McCall land, he didn’t stop the inspection. Cal had a bit of work to do before he could run cattle, he reflected. Old man Hamill hadn’t done squat to take care of the fences in his last few years.

  Still, the alfalfa was a good size, and it smelled of the twin scents of mustard and lavender, a sickly odor that reminded him vaguely of old socks. Wildflowers dotted the pastures once he got away from the alfalfa field, and in a little draw where a creek ran in a good summer, the smell of the currant bushes surrounded him.

  After a steady thirty minutes he came over the knob to see the McCall house down on the flat plane below. It was a pretty, old farmhouse, even if it had been let go in the past few years. Yes, indeed, Cal was going to have his hands full trying to turn himself from a fancy-pants city boy into a rancher again.

  He rode right down to her yard like he had the other night and tied both horses to the posts of the fence by the walk. In another couple of weeks, the wild rambler roses that grew on the fence would be smothered with blooms. He hadn’t been over here in years—were they still the little pink ones from his childhood or had the bush been replaced?

  The two dogs came to greet him, the old one walking so stiffly he winced as he bent to scratch the poor old guy’s neck.

  “Hello.”

  When he glanced up, she was standing behind the screen door, framed in its upper panel. “Hi.” He had to clear his throat after uttering the simple word; every damn time he saw her again she took his breath away. As she opened the door and stepped onto the porch, desire slammed into him so hard his knees felt weak.

  She wore jeans again today, with a pale-pink shirt and a fleece-lined denim vest that should have covered up her assets but only hugged her curves in a way that made his eyes keep straying back for a second peek. Her curly hair flew around her face, and in one hand she carried a buff-colored hat which she held up with a doubtful expression. “Cal bought me this before he left. I don’t quite picture myself as a cowgirl, but if you think I need it, I’ll wear it.” She paused. “I guess.”

  “Wear it. The sun gets pretty fierce sometimes and there’s not a lot of shade around here to hide in, in case you didn’t notice.” He gestured to the dog at his side. “Your brother ought to take this guy in to the vet if he’s planning to let him hang around. There are a couple of new arthritis medicines that work pretty well.”

  She nodded as if she liked the idea. “The man who came out to work on the plumbing last week said Cal ought to just shoot him.”

  He liked the indignant tone in her voice. “There are a lot of folks who think like that out here,” he told her. “If a dog isn’t good for something, they don’t spend the money.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “That’s economics. Ranching’s not an easy life or one that will make you rich. Vets are an expensive luxury for people who are wondering
how they’ll pay the feed bill next month. Chances are, this old boy was welcome at somebody’s outfit until he got too old to work.” Then he straightened. “You ready to go for a ride?”

  She smiled. “You betcha.”

  “Are you trying to turn yourself into a local?” He found himself smiling back. “I know darn well they don’t say that in Virginia.”

  She laughed. “No, they don’t. If someone asked me that in Virginia, I might have said, ‘I sure am, honey.”’

  He gave a snort of laughter. “Spoken like a true Southern belle.”

  “I hope you’ll go easy on this Southern belle today. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a horse.” As she spoke, she handed him a wrapped package to put into the saddlebags his gelding wore. “Snacks.”

  He accepted the food and stored it as he considered her words. “How long a while?”

  She shot him a rueful smile as she tugged the new hat firmly into place. “Oh, five years, give or take a few, since I rode with any regularity.”

  He whistled. “Riding fence might not be the best way to reintroduce you.”

  But she shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been looking forward to getting out of the house all day.”

  She swung into the saddle gracefully and his pulse jumped into a faster rhythm as her jeans stretched tight across a trim bottom for a moment until she settled into the big saddle. “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  He took her out past the winter pastures on McCall land toward the White River, where they crossed and then rode along the river bottom to the fences that went over east. For about forty minutes they rode across prairie.

  She sniffed appreciatively when they passed a big patch of wildflowers. “That smells wonderful. What is it?”

  “It’s a couple of different kinds of wildflowers,” he told her. “Phlox, larkspur, daisies, wild sweet william, sego lilies…”

  She was instantly diverted. “Is that where your horse got its name?”

  He nodded.

  “How about mine? Lindra’s unusual.”