How to Wrangle a Cowboy (24 page)

What else could she mean?

He was leaving, and she was the last to know.

Anger rose, hot and quick, in her heart, only to be followed by a stab of pain. She’d just told him, the night before, how much she needed him.

He hadn’t said one word about leaving—but then again, he hadn’t promised to stay.

Chapter 28

Lindsey headed back to the tack room for another armload, hoping hard work would relieve the betrayal and cold fury that warred in her heart. How could Shane make love to her, knowing he was leaving? How could he let her lean on him the way she had, listen to her pathetic declaration of neediness, and not tell her he planned to go?

When she staggered back outside, burdened with a huge stack of dusty horse blankets, Sierra was gone and Shane was kneeling next to Cody, examining a rusty pair of spurs.

“They’ve got a maker’s mark on ’em,” Shane said. “
HR
. That might be Hiram Randolph. If it is, they’re quite a find. Good eye, Cody.”

“You think they’re worth a lot?”

“Maybe.”

Lindsey craned her neck, trying to get a look at the spurs in question. She was so mad at Shane, she was ready to resurrect her con-man theory. If he shoved the spurs in his pocket, she’d know he’d used her for sure.

She shifted her heavy load, giving it a slight toss so it plumped down into her arms in a different position. The move sent up a massive puff of dust and horsehair that flew into her face, up her nose, and into her eyes. With a mighty and very messy sneeze, she overbalanced, tumbling to a hard landing in a shower of ancient saddle blankets.

“Bless you.” Josh shoved his glasses up his nose and coughed.

“Thank you.” She rose with as much dignity as she could and began gathering the blankets into a neat stack.

Shane ambled over to help.

“You okay?”

Like he cared.

“I’m fine.” She winced. Her Southern accent came out more strongly when she was upset, and she sounded like a pouty Scarlett O’Hara. She slapped one horse blanket on top of another, sending up another cloud of dust. “I’m a little worried about the fact that my foreman’s leaving without notice, but other than that and a little dirt, I’m just peachy.”

Shane opened his mouth to answer, but the clanging of the triangle that hung from the front porch of the ranch house interrupted their conversation. Its effect on Cody was electric; he leaped up from his work and ran to Lindsey.

“That means Grace wants us to come up to the house for ice cream.” He hopped from one foot to the other, barely able to contain his excitement. “She said Josh could come too. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” She eked out a smile. “You guys have earned a break.”

“Come on, Josh.”

Josh squinted, baring his rabbity front teeth. “Who’s Grace?”

“The movie star lady. Remember? I told you.” He spun around and took off for the house. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

Shane watched them go, then turned to Lindsey. He still looked serious, but there was a light in his eyes that had been absent all morning. He reached out and stroked one finger down her nose, then held it up for her inspection. Again, she’d apparently managed to coat her face with the grime of centuries past.

“Great,” she said. “I probably look like a chimney sweep from
Mary Poppins
.”

“You look beautiful,” he said. “You always do. And your foreman’s not going anywhere.”

The warm rush of happiness flooding Lindsey’s heart was almost frightening in its intensity. As she followed Shane back to the tack room, she could feel it washing away any remnants of common sense and self-preservation that might have survived their night together.

Setting down his burden, he brushed a few cobwebs out of her hair. She gave him a tiny smile that trembled at the edges. She probably looked as confused and crazy as she felt.

“You’re not leaving?” She didn’t dare say more. The neediness was rising inside her, and she knew it wasn’t her most attractive quality.

“I’m not,” he said. “I need to explain to Sierra, but I couldn’t do it this morning, with the kids right there.” He cupped her face in his hand, and she couldn’t help closing her eyes, savoring the feel of warm palm. “I couldn’t do a lot of things with them around. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry we fought.”

“I’m sorry too,” she murmured.

She heard his breath catch just before his lips met hers in a kiss so sweet she couldn’t help opening her eyes. She wanted to remember this moment with every one of her senses.

This was the real Shane Lockhart. This man who loved his child with all his heart, who had even more love to give if he found the right woman. This man who might actually have chosen her to be that woman, in spite of all their differences.

When he pulled away, she stood perfectly still, as if he was a wild animal and any move might spook him and send him racing off to Decker Ranch. His stubble-roughened cheek brushed her cheek as he kissed the corner of her mouth, then nipped at the curve of her jaw. He must have sensed somehow that he’d weakened her knees, because he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of her Wranglers and tugged her hips to meet his. A spiral of need spun out everywhere their bodies met and melded, and she pressed herself hard against him, as if she could join with him right there, right then.

Burying one hand in her hair, he used the other to clutch her waist while she reached back and caught a firm handful of cowboy. She loved the feel of all that muscle in the palm of her hand. And speaking of hard…

She ground against him, shameless in her need. She and her randy foreman had one thing in common, anyway. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Shoving her up against the wall outside the tack room, he rocked his pelvis into hers while he ravaged her mouth. This was one more side of the real Shane Lockhart—the demanding lover who took what he wanted whenever he wanted it. Yet his hand hovered in the air, moving toward her breast and then away, as if the tug of some annoyingly sensible gravity was holding him back.

Finally, he lost the fight. When his palm met the aching tip of her breast, her nipple drew into a tight and tender bud under the thin protection of her tank top.

“I know this is a bad idea,” he growled, nipping at her ear. “It’s stupid. I’m stupid. I’m a fool when I’m around you. What is it you do to me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I’m glad I’m doing it. Don’t stop.” She nipped at the cord muscle between his neck and shoulder. “Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop. He kissed her again, squeezing the soft flesh of her breast until she cried out with pleasure and pain, the two sensations becoming one.

Her hands moved down to cup his erection. He was so hard it had to hurt, and she imagined him taking her right there, right then, the two of them tumbling to the ground. She wanted that feeling again—the feeling of him sliding inside her, filling her again and again and again, pounding hard and fast with a need that was lonely and desperate and real. She wanted to look into his eyes while he took her, his dark, dark eyes, and see that hawk’s gaze fixed on hers. It was his fierceness that made him so different from other men she’d known. That wildness made taming him a triumph.

Her knees buckled again. The man made her crazy. What was she going to do, make love to him on the dirty barn floor? She might not be able to help it. She had to do
something
with all this erotic energy, but somehow, she dredged up a reluctant shred of common sense. They couldn’t do it here. Could they?

He must have had the same thought, because he suddenly pulled his hands away, resting them on the wall. Hanging his head as if he’d run a four-minute mile, he panted out, “I’m sorry.” Standing, he spun to lean against the wall and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t… I can’t…” He inhaled deeply, then blew out a long breath. “Cody.”

He was right. Cody would hardly be scarred for life if he caught the two of them kissing, but if what they had together didn’t last, it would hurt him, and she didn’t want that to happen. She loved Cody too.

Loved?
Too?
Does that mean…

Don’t think about it. You can’t love him. You barely know him. It was just a mistake, a quick slip of the heart.

She smoothed her clothes, surprised to find most of the buttons of her shirt undone, then readjusted everything and fixed her hair. Her heart banged off her ribs like a bee in a box. Kissing Shane had filled her with joyful, rollicking energy that needed an outlet, and she couldn’t just step back into the ordinary world.

Giving him a quick smile, she fled to the back of the barn and climbed the ladder to the loft with the deft, casual grace of the squirrels that scampered through the pines. She made her way along the edge until she reached the spot where her old rope swing was tethered up out of the way.

Releasing the knot, she watched it swing down to dangle at the very center of the barn. It hung just two feet above the ground—the perfect height for a daredevil, swing-loving kid—or a daredevil, swing-loving grown-up.

Scurrying down the ladder, she slung a leg over the knot and hopped backward, away from the wide-open door, until her toes barely touched the ground. She took a deep, cleansing breath and lifted her feet, savoring the rush of air through her long hair as she swung forward and back, forward and back. Every time she neared the ground, she bounced off her toes to swing higher, faster, farther…

And just like that, she was a child again, carefree and confident, whooshing through the barn door and heading up, up, into the limitless Wyoming sky.

A child? No, a woman—one who dared to fly high, defying the fall that would follow.

Chapter 29

Shane didn’t blame Lindsey for running away. If she hadn’t, the two of them might have caught fire right there in the tack room.

Like a spark lighting tinder.

He wanted Lindsey in that way more than he’d ever wanted Tara. He wanted to touch her again, touch her and tease her. He wanted to finish what they’d started, but they were grown-ups, with responsibilities that would force any relationship between them into serious territory.

So it was good Lindsey’d taken a break. She’d be back, once she recovered. They’d work together to get the tack room cleared out, and that would help them cement the relationship that mattered most: their working relationship. They had a ranch to run, and that was more important than sex.

Or so he tried to tell himself.

Lifting an old broom above his head, he tackled the dust and cobwebs that shrouded the ceiling as if his life depended on total cleanliness. Once the rafters were clean, he grabbed a soft cloth and wiped the grime from the windows to let in more light.

By the time he was done, the task looked far more doable. Light from the newly cleaned windows highlighted the fine tooling on some of the saddles and the gleam of old brass stirrups. He had no doubt some of this stuff was worth good money. It was sad to sell it, but Lindsey said she needed the money, and he’d made up his mind to take her word for it.

Still, it puzzled him.
She
puzzled him. She seemed desperate to milk some cold, hard cash out of her inheritance, but she wasn’t like Tara, who was obsessed with expensive clothes and cars and cruises.

In fact, Lindsey seemed to like the simple things. She enjoyed hanging out with a couple of kids or riding horses as much as most women liked a day at the mall. At the funeral, she’d ditched those high-fashion shoes as soon as she could, padding around in her stocking feet and shocking the old ladies.

Hell, if Tara’d gotten hold of a pair of shoes like that, she’d have had them welded to her feet.

He set his fists on his hips and looked around the tack room. He’d start on the heavy stuff. Hefting an old Western saddle onto his hip, he headed for the barn door, but stumbled backward when something whooshed past him.

“
Gangway!
”

Lindsey hurtled past him like Tarzan on a mission of jungle mercy, riding the knot at the end of an enormous length of rope. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of a capable, intelligent woman playing like a ten-year-old.

He just hoped Grace’s ice cream social lasted a little longer. He’d asked Bud to take down the swing when Cody had first arrived, worried it was too dangerous for a six-year-old. But Bud had refused to take it down for this very reason. He’d insisted that Lindsey had loved the swing as a girl, and Cody would too—once he was a little older.

They’d finally compromised by hooking the end up in the rafters, out of sight. But it hadn’t taken Lindsey long to find it.

She hurtled backward, her hair streaming over her face as she raced toward the rear of the barn. Her booted feet touched the barn floor for one brief instant, and he saw her flex her toes to get more height, like a little girl pumping a swing.

Stepping out of the room, he watched her swing up through the barn’s open space, almost to the ledge of the hayloft.

“Look out!” She swung back, hair streaming behind her, and would have knocked Shane over if he hadn’t stepped back into the safety of the tack room. Once she’d passed, he walked to the middle of the barn to watch her go. The length of the rope hit the high lintel of the barn door, making its arc change abruptly. As it swung fast and high, threatening to squash Lindsey like a bug against the facade of the barn, she let go of the rope.

Holy cow. She just
let go.

Shane’s heart pounded its way up to his throat as he watched her fly up, up into the air, her arms spread as if to embrace the sky rushing toward her, her toes pointed as if she expected to execute a perfect ballerina landing. At the top of her arc, she seemed to hang in the air, a dark-haired angel with wings spread wide.

When she fell, it was like watching a car wreck. Shane knew he should run, catch her, try to break her fall, but he couldn’t move. He could only watch in horror and dismay.

It wasn’t until she was just about to land that he began to run, arms outstretched.

He was too late. Way too late.