The Rancher's Best Gift

by Stella Bagwell

  “Worth the risk and more,” he muttered. Then, clamping his hands at the back of her head, he drew her face up to his. “And right now I don’t care if this makes the roof fall in on us.”

  “Mmm. We don’t have a roof over us. Just the open sky—and the stars and—”

  “This,” he murmured against her lips.

  Instantly, she deepened the contact by opening her mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Matthew had never been shot out of a cannon, but he figured this was darned close to it. Like a lighted match landing on a dry tumbleweed, fire exploded inside of him, catapulting him into a dark, dreamy space. Unable to stop the flight, he mindlessly pushed her upper body down on the lounge chair and draped himself over her.

  The exotic taste of her kiss intoxicated what was left of his senses, and when he felt her tongue probing for an entryway into his mouth, he gladly gave it to her, all the while knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had more and more.

  His hands cupped her breasts and as he kneaded their fullness, he imagined his mouth on the softness, his teeth sinking into the budded centers. Above the roaring blood in his ears, he heard her moan, and then he felt her hands working their way to the snaps of his shirt. The moment her hands found enough space to slip inside the fabric and flatten against his skin, he tore his mouth from hers and sucked in a fierce breath.

  “I—uh, think we’d better stop this—and go inside.”

  Her eyes half-closed, she smiled like a contented cat. “Why? The night air feels like cool velvet and you feel even better.”

  Groaning, he brought his face back to hers and nuzzled his lips against her cheek. “I’m dirty and smell like—”

  “Like a real man,” she finished before he could. Her fingertips rubbed against the stubble on his jaw. “I like the whiskers and the dust and the sweat. I like—everything about you, Matthew.”

  “You’re crazy. But I’m beginning not to care.”

  As soon as he said the words, his lips moved back to hers, and as their kiss deepened, Matthew had one thing on his mind. Getting her off the chair and into his bed.

  And then the quietness in the courtyard was suddenly interrupted by the distant sound of men’s voices shouting back and forth.

  Matthew desperately wanted to ignore the commotion, but the responsibilities attached to his job were deeply ingrained in him and he slowly lifted his head and pushed himself to his feet.

  “Something is happening at the barn. I hear the men yelling.”

  Frowning, she sat up and listened along with him.

  “Damn it, don’t push her leg that way!” Curly shouted loud enough for the sound to carry all the way to the courtyard. “Abel, go get a lariat! We’ll pull her out!”

  Snapping his shirt back together, Matthew cast Camille a rueful glance. “I have to go.”

  She jumped to her feet. “Of course you do. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Matthew hurried out of the courtyard and as his long strides carried him to the barn, he decided he’d either made a great escape, or lost the chance of a lifetime.

  Chapter Six

  More than an hour later, after Matthew had left to go to the ranch yard, Camille was upstairs in her bedroom when she heard him return to the house. The sound of his movements below was enough to cause her heart to trip all over itself, and with trembling fingers she hurriedly finished pinning her hair into a messy bun.

  She didn’t know why she’d bothered to change into a long dress and sandals or pin up her hair. If Matthew really wanted to make love to her, it wouldn’t matter what she was wearing or how she looked, she thought.

  But it mattered to her. Ever since Graham had thrown her over for Crystal Thompson, she’d harbored all kinds of doubts about herself. If she’d not been pretty enough, or woman enough, to keep her fiancé from falling for another woman, then how did she expect to hold on to any man? Especially one like Matthew, who was sexy enough to have women throwing themselves at him.

  Isn’t that what you’re doing, Camille? You know good and darn well that you’ve been throwing yourself at Matthew from the moment he arrived on the ranch. What has come over you anyway? You’ve never behaved this way in your entire life. And to make matters worse, you’ve been vowing to stay celibate and unattached. Now you’re trying your best to veer way off course! You’re going to get your heart broken, you little ninny, and when you do, you’ll have nowhere else to run. No place to hide your wounds.

  The sardonic voice going off in her head caused her lips to compress into a thin line. So what if she was the one doing all the pursuing? What was wrong with that? Her father had always taught her to be strong and go after the things she wanted in life. And Lord help her, she wanted Matthew with every fiber of her being.

  With that thought in mind, she fastened a pair of golden hoops to her ears and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

  * * *

  “What was happening down at the barn?” Camille asked as she carried a platter filled with pot roast and vegetables over to the table. “I hope nothing serious.”

  “Everything is okay now,” he assured her. “A cow managed to get her leg stuck through one of the fencing panels. If Curly hadn’t happened to go outside and find her in the predicament, she would’ve probably broken her leg trying to get herself loose. And you know what that would’ve meant.”

  “Yes,” she said ruefully. “You would’ve had to put her down. Does she have a calf?”

  “Yes. Probably no more than two weeks old. It would’ve had to be bottle-fed. Which is quite a time-consuming job. But thank God, the mama is okay and so is her calf.”

  She went back to the cabinet counter to collect a bowl of brown gravy and a basket of hot rolls. As she placed them next to the roast, she said, “I’ve heard people make stupid comments about ranching life. Like all you have to do is put a few cows on some grass and let them multiply. They couldn’t be more wrong. It’s a very hard job and many times, heartbreaking.”

  “You say that like you know firsthand.”

  “I wasn’t just a klutz around the horses and cows, but I was a big softie. I couldn’t bear seeing any of the animals sick or injured. Once a cow had twins and I was so excited over them. Daddy gave me the job of giving them bottle milk to help supplement what the mother was able to provide her two babies.” She paused and shook her head. “But the weaker of the two calves eventually died and I was totally devastated. I cried for a month over it and after that I refused to go to the barn. I know that was childish of me. But it hurt too much.”

  “There are a lot of things about ranching that can be brutal,” he said. “But the rewarding parts balance it all out.”

  She gestured to the table. “That’s everything,” she said. “Let’s eat.”

  He pulled out a chair for her and she thanked him as she took a seat and he pushed forward.

  As he sat in the chair angled to her left, he said, “I wasn’t expecting you to be eating with me this evening. You didn’t have to wait, you know.”

  She smiled at him. “It’s nice not to have to eat alone. And I didn’t mind the wait.”

  They filled their plates and as they began to eat, she glanced at his arms, which were covered with a long-sleeved white shirt.

  “Did you get back into the mesquite and chaparral today?”

  “Yes. The area of the ranch where we’ve been riding is rough and full of brush. But I tried to get them out when I took a shower.”

  “I’ll have a look after we eat.”

  He didn’t say anything, but the look he slanted her spoke volumes. Like if she touched him he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. The idea caused Camille to tremble inside.

  After a few moments passed, she asked, “Are you still living in the old foreman’s house up on the ridge?”

  “Yes. Why?”


  She shrugged. “I just wondered, that’s all. It’s been a while since I left Three Rivers. Some things have changed since then.” She laughed lightly, then shook her head. “Let me rephrase that. Many things have changed since then. The house is full of babies and wives. Blake married Katherine and together they have Nick, Abagail and Andrew. Then Chandler married Roslyn and they have little Evelyn.”

  “You’ve left out your other siblings,” Matthew said. “Joseph married Tessa and they have Little Joe and baby daughter, Spring. Vivian married Sawyer and now, along with Hannah, they have twins, Jacob and Johnny. And Holt and Isabelle will be having their first baby soon. It’s been a very productive few years for your family.”

  Her lips twisted to a wry slant. “My siblings have always been high achievers. Blake manages Three Rivers, Chandler is a veterinarian and owns a very successful clinic. Joseph is deputy sheriff for Yavapai County, Holt is a prestigious horse trainer, and Vivian is an experienced park ranger. And what is little Camille? She’s a short order cook in a desert diner. I take everything back I said about my brothers. I’m the reason Mom is depressed.”

  “Stop it,” he ordered. “The poor, pitiful me act doesn’t suit you.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “No. You’re right. It doesn’t. But sometimes I think—”

  “You think too much,” he interrupted. “About the wrong things. You’ve already said that being a cook makes you happy. If that’s the case, then you should be proud of yourself and proud of your job.”

  She nodded glumly. Then, after a moment’s thought, she nodded with more enthusiasm. “You’re right. I could go dig out my college degree and hang it on the wall. I could even go to Tucson and get an office job with an impressive title attached to it. But I’d hate every minute of it. Just like you’d hate it if you had to take over Blake’s job and sit behind a desk for most of the day. You’d be a big shot, but would it be worth it?”

  “Not to me. I don’t want to be a big shot. I’d rather be a saddle bum.”

  He grinned as he said the last word and Camille laughed. Then, unable to stop herself, she reached over and squeezed his hand.

  “I’m so glad that you’re here, Matthew. You make me feel good.”

  His expression suddenly sobered and the regret she saw in his gray eyes was worse than being cut with a knife.

  “Camille, I—about what happened out there in the courtyard—I—”

  She quickly interrupted, “I don’t want to talk about that now, Matthew. Let’s just enjoy our food. And—talk about other things. Tell me about Blue Stallion Ranch and this dream ranch that Holt and Isabelle are building together.”

  For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her plea and begin a long tirade about how they should keep some sensible distance between them. But to her relief he relented and said, “It’s on the old Landry Ranch. Just north of Three Rivers. Remember it?”

  “Yes. Vaguely. I went over there with Daddy once. It was very pretty over there. Do you think Holt likes being away from Three Rivers?”

  “Well, it’s not like he’s away entirely. He works at Three Rivers on weekdays. His nights and weekends are spent at Blue Stallion. And yes, he’s very happy.”

  Camille thoughtfully shook her head. “Amazing, really. Wild Holt finally under a bit and bridle and with a baby on the way, too. I would’ve never dreamed it. But I guess the old saying that nothing stays the same is true.”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “Look at you.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a twinge of cynicism. “Look at me.”

  Another span of silence passed before Matthew spoke again. Even though she’d cut him off when he’d brought up their encounter in the courtyard, Camille couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been about to say. That he didn’t want to get involved with her? That no matter how much she tempted or taunted, he wasn’t going to make love to her?

  Just as she let out a long sigh, he asked, “Has Maureen mentioned anything to you about Sam?”

  She arched her brows at him. “You mean Sam Leman? Tessa and Joseph’s ranch foreman?”

  Sam was a crusty cowboy somewhere in his seventies. For years he’d worked for the late Sheriff Ray Maddox until Ray had passed away and Tessa had inherited the Bar X.

  He nodded. “Yes, that Sam.”

  “No. Why? I hope nothing is wrong with him. I always thought he was a charming old guy.”

  Matthew slanted her a wry look. “All the women do. Especially Isabelle’s mother, Gabby. Seems as though a romance has sparked between the two.”

  Camille’s mouth fell open. “Isabelle’s mother? I saw her in a few of the photos of Holt and Isabelle’s wedding that Mom sent to me. Gabby is a very attractive blonde and quite a bit younger than Sam, isn’t she?”

  He sipped from his glass of iced tea before he spoke. “I have no idea what Holt’s mother-in-law’s age actually is, but I’d say she’s at least twenty years younger than Sam.”

  “Wow! Sam is an old desert cowboy who loves horses and goats and bourbon, but he obviously still has what it takes! Wonder how those two got together?”

  “Gabby’s an artist and it seems she was so taken with the character in Sam’s face that she wanted to do a portrait of him. You can imagine how shocked everyone was when Sam agreed to sit for her. The way things have turned out, Sam must’ve been doing more than just sitting. And Gabby more than painting.”

  Camille cast him a suggestive smile. “So Gabby is still living back here in Arizona?”

  He nodded. “On Blue Stallion Ranch with Isabelle and Holt. But your brother says Sam and Gabby are planning to marry soon. They want to be together while he’s still young. That’s the way Gabby puts it.”

  A bittersweet pain squeezed her heart. Would any man ever feel that way about her? To love her so much he didn’t want to miss a day, an hour, or a minute without her in his life? Maureen had been blessed with that kind of love. Now Vivian had it with Sawyer. But Camille was beginning to doubt she would ever be the recipient of that kind of devoted emotion.

  “That’s so romantic,” she said huskily.

  He leveled a meaningful, knowing look at her. “I expected that kind of response from you. Maureen says the same thing. She gets all teary-eyed whenever she talks about the two of them.”

  Camille’s throat was so tight that she forced herself to swallow a few bites of food before she replied. “Well, Sam has been a friend of the family for as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’s happy for him. And—maybe a little sad for herself. You know—losing Daddy like she did.”

  “Maureen deserves some happiness.”

  From the corner of her eye, Camille thoughtfully watched him slice into the roast beef on his plate. She said, “Viv tells me that Holt and Chandler have the idea that Mom has fallen in love with someone. Do you believe that?”

  “Joel has been gone for a long time. And your mother is human.” He glanced at her. “You wouldn’t oppose her having a man in her life, would you?”

  “No. I want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”

  He fell silent after that, and Camille decided all their talk about family and romance had left him uncomfortable. Well, she could tell him that just sitting across the table from him unnerved her. But he probably already knew that, she thought. She’d made her desire for him clear enough.

  Camille had never pursued a man in her life. Even Graham had been the one to seek her out, and she’d been unable to resist his sweet talk and promises of the kind of future she’d always wanted. It hadn’t even mattered that he’d liked the fact that she was an office manager and had wanted her to continue the job after they were married. And when he’d insisted they would make their home in Phoenix, she’d gone along like a helpless calf being dragged to the branding fire.

  She’d been so foolish and weak-willed back then, she thought. She’d let Graham define
who she was and what she was. But never again. She’d emerged from their broken engagement a different and stronger woman. And this time around she wasn’t going to give up, or give in.

  * * *

  Every bite of food was gone from Matthew’s plate when he finally rose from the table and carried it and his glass over to the sink. Behind him, he could hear Camille leave the table, and he turned just as she came to stand next to him.

  “Thanks for supper, Camille. It was delicious.”

  “I have apple pie,” she told him. “I’ll get the coffee going.”

  “No,” he blurted. Then, seeing the confused frown on her face, he added, “I—uh—the pie can wait. I want to talk with you first.”

  Her expression stoic, she stacked her plate on top of his. “If you’re going to start in about us kissing in the courtyard—”

  “That was more than kissing, Camille, and you know it,” he stated flatly.

  As her blue gaze probed his face, her chin tilted upward. “What if it was more? Don’t try to tell me you weren’t enjoying it.”

  Frustration pushed a groan past his throat. “Hell, Camille, what do you think I am? Made of steel?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said quietly. “Just when I start to think you’re human, you want to put a cold wall between us.”

  Cold? Everything was about her was burning him up, even the part of his brain that was supposed to be holding on to his common sense.

  “I’m trying to stop a shipwreck, Camille. We can’t just—”

  “What? Make love?” As she asked the questions, she moved close enough to slide her palms up the middle of his chest. “Why can’t we? We’re both adults and unattached.”

  His nostrils flared at the simple image she was painting. She made it sound so easy and right. And maybe that was the way it should be, he pondered. Maybe he was making too damned much of everything. Maybe he needed to forget about her last name and start thinking of her as the woman he wanted. “You think that’s all there is to it?”