The Rancher's Prospect (19 page)

Carl growled under his breath and swung into the second vehicle. He'd set protocols for this type of situation but hadn't expected to be caught in one. A minute later Noah slid behind the wheel.

“Take me to Windy Bluffs,” Carl ordered.

“Sorry. The Schuyler clinic is the best in the area, and you're bleeding like a stuck pig.”

That was the problem. Carl had spotted Lauren going to work that morning, and she might still be on duty. He didn't want to take a chance of reminding her how much blood could come from a relatively minor knife wound.

It was revolting that he was still hanging on to hope for a relationship.

“How about the emergency room?” he suggested.

“George called them. The ER said that since you're mobile and conscious and they're swamped right now, you'll see someone faster at the clinic. If needed, the clinic will transfer you for hospitalization.”

“Hospitalized for
this
?” Carl rolled his eyes.

Noah pulled up at the medical clinic. The door swung open, and Lauren ran to the vehicle, followed by a nurse.

“I'm all right,” Carl insisted. “It's barely a scratch.”

“Obviously it's a little more than that,” Lauren said calmly.

Groaning, Carl stepped down from the cruiser and followed them into the clinic. The slice across his ribs hurt, but he had enough experience to know it wasn't serious.

Lauren was completely professional in the exam room as she examined the wound.

He hadn't wanted her to see it, but now he wondered if it was just as well. It hadn't felt entirely honest inventing excuses to see her.

“I guess you can see what it's like in law enforcement,” he told her as she began to clean the wound.

She gave him several injections around the cut. “This should help with the pain while I stitch you up,” she advised, ignoring his comment.

“Thanks. As I was saying, my work has its risks. No wonder so many women don't want to be involved with someone in law enforcement. I'd never ask a woman to try something she didn't think she could handle.”

At that she looked up. Her eyes were filled with surprise and something else he didn't recognize.

“That's very straightforward,” she finally responded.

He nodded, wishing he could convince her that it was possible to tackle life together. But he didn't have any business doing that—she'd already made her feelings plain.

* * *

L
AUREN
CAREFULLY
STITCHED
the cut in Carl's side. The blood horrified her, but not because she was squeamish. She saw blood every day...just not spilling out of Carl Stanfield.

She forced her thoughts into a detached, clinical mode. Carl didn't need someone to break down and cry; he needed someone to take care of his injury.

“Ordinarily the emergency room is the best place for something like this,” she said as she finished.

“This wasn't serious.”

“No, it wasn't serious, so I'm glad we could help out. You'll need to take some time off, however, to let it heal properly. Two weeks at a minimum.”

He made a face.

“I mean it,” she insisted. “What if you got into another confrontation and someone punched you there? You could go down, and whoever needed your help would be out of luck.”

There was startled respect in Carl's eyes when she finished, and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay. By the way, have you heard any more from Tara? She's been gone a long time, and I know how much you were looking forward to her visit.”

“She's called a couple of times. Josh McGregor joined the camping trip and brought a satellite phone. She hasn't wanted to stay on and run up his charges, but she's having fun. She's going to stay longer when she gets back, so we'll still have the same amount of time together.”

“Glad to hear it. Look, I hoped we—”

“Sorry, I should get the doctor,” Lauren interrupted. “He's staying late to check you, as well.”

She was glad to escape the exam room and the intense emotions Carl inspired, along with whatever else he'd started to say. He had tried to tell her that he understood how she felt, but it was clear he didn't, at least not completely.

The risks of his job were only part of why she'd resisted getting involved. Loving a man in daily danger
would
be difficult, but it wasn't the only reason.

She didn't know what to think. If she was less concerned about a relationship breaking down, would she be able to deal with Carl's career, especially since it meant so much to him?

Lauren sank into her office chair, depressed, thinking she'd probably never have the opportunity to find out.

* * *

A
S
J
OSH
WASHED
ANOTHER
load of gravel, he realized he was enjoying the interlude in the mountains, at least when he wasn't frustrated by his libido.

“A table would be nice for sorting,” he told Tara as he sat next to her on a flat rock and balanced the sieve on his knees. His jeans were perpetually damp from water dripping off the gravel, but it was easier than setting the box on the ground and bending over to sort. It was the reason Tara often wore shorts to work...which was much more comfortable for her, and excruciating for him. She had terrific legs.

“That's how they do it at a Montana mine I read about. People buy buckets of raw material, then wash and sort it on trays set out on tables.”

“You sure did your research. I'll admit that I know more about agates than gemstones. It never seemed necessary to study them, so I'm glad you did some groundwork”

“I wanted to help Walt,” she said simply.

“It's admirable, especially since it isn't easy for you to get close to people.”

Tara was quiet for a long moment. “After a few different homes, I wouldn't let myself care about anyone. It was safer, because I knew everything was going to get ripped away, sooner or later.”

“Yet you seem to value what my grandfather says about Grandma Evelyn and the cost of love.”

Tara shifted her tray. “One part of my brain accepts that love should be worth the risk, but it's hard to overcome a lifetime of conditioning. I don't know if you can imagine what it was like to start loving foster parents, only to have a social worker pick you up from school and say you're being sent somewhere else. There weren't any explanations or goodbyes, only paper bags filled with a few of my belongings.”

Josh hated the thought that any child could be treated that way. He knew the foster care system could work out okay for kids, but it had been lousy for Tara.

“You seem to be getting closer to Lauren,” he murmured. “I know I mentioned something about it before, but maybe meeting her is helping you open up to other possibilities.”

She shrugged. “I suppose, but it would be harder moving from place to place if I got too attached. I have a good life, so don't think I'm whining.”

“I'd never think that,” he affirmed. “You seem to take everything in stride and deal with it. The ability to do that came at a high cost, but maybe it's one of the few good things that came out of your childhood.”

“Maybe.”

She hurriedly jumped up and went to wash another load. Rather than return to sorting, Josh watched her work. Physically she was a stunning woman who chronically made his jeans uncomfortably tight. But as much as he hadn't wanted to see it, there was a whole lot more to Tara than beauty.

* * *

J
OSH
STARED
AT
the full moon through the tree branches. This adventure had reminded him of how beautiful Montana evenings could be.

Grandpa was snoring nearby on the raised air bed, which had turned out to be Tara's idea, along with the odd-looking air chair. He still took pain medication, especially at night, and usually slept deeply. With the hard work, Josh normally did, also, but at the moment he was curiously alert.

A faint noise on the other side of the fire caught his attention. It was Tara, slowly easing from her sleeping bag. Eyes half-shut, he watched as she gathered her bag of bathing supplies.

He gulped, picturing her in the moonlight.

The temptation was extreme.

Carefully, he got up, as well. He hesitated before searching in his pack for the condoms he'd packed on his last trip down to the ranch.
Just in case
, he thought, with a hint of self-disgust—he couldn't assume Tara wanted to make love with him again, but being prepared was an old habit.

He grabbed his towel and made his way up the dark path.

Tara was in the water when he arrived. She turned his direction.

“Mind if I skinny-dip?” he asked.

“Why not? I am.”

Heat instantly surged through his groin. Shucking his clothing, Josh stepped into the pool and swam lazily, thoroughly warmed by the water that steamed more than usual in the cool night air.

It felt as if he'd wandered into another world and that Tara was one of the fairy folk from the tales he'd been told as a boy. If he approached too quickly, she might disappear in a flash of silver light.

* * *

W
HEN
T
ARA
HAD
SEEN
Josh at the pool's edge, naked and already erect, various thoughts had raced through her mind. She'd come to the pool because she'd been unable to sleep. Their discussion that afternoon had left her with an ache in her gut that wouldn't go away.

It also annoyed her. She'd made peace with herself about her life and lack of connections, hadn't she? But Josh was right. Discovering a twin sister and trying to form a relationship with her had changed the game. Now she felt an unaccustomed hunger for affection, a hunger she'd thought was long since under control.

Sex wasn't the same as love, but it was a kind of intimacy. The first time with Josh had been quick and satisfying, but if it was going to happen again, she wanted it to last longer.

So she let him circle, waiting. If he wanted to have sex, he'd let her know. Finally he drifted within a couple feet.

She extended a hand, and almost unerringly, their fingers met and laced. He tugged her closer.

“You were smart to bring the air bed and chair so Grandpa doesn't have to get down and up from ground level as often,” he murmured.

“I bought them in Helena when I drove up to exchange my rental. Luckily I got them to extend the second rental period indefinitely by saying I'd go to another company if I had to.”

Their legs brushed, and electricity tingled through Tara.

Josh stroked her breasts with his other hand, teasing and coaxing, then tipped her head back to kiss her throat. It was slow and languid, the opposite of the blood pounding through her veins.

Finally he lifted her in the water so she floated, his lips exploring each of her curves, drifting to her belly and below.

Spasms went through Tara's abdomen. In the back of her mind she wondered if Josh had practiced foreplay in the water with another woman or if he was just naturally gifted. Surely not here, though. He'd claimed the hot spring pool had been unknown to him before.

Tara explored his hard frame as he pulled her to him again. She had muscles, but his seemed carved from stone...particularly when she caressed his erection. Almost as if they were dancing, they left the water. The grass was cold against her overheated back, but Josh quickly dropped down to cover her.

When he fumbled with the condom, she took it from him and unrolled it over his hard length. A moment later he was inside her, and she climaxed immediately. He seemed aware of it; she saw his faint smile in the moonlight as he played with her breasts and began moving in slow, pulsing thrusts. Unbelievably, the heat built again and she shattered a second time, just seconds before his own release.

Josh collapsed over her, chest heaving, and she wished they were in a bed, warm and secluded, where she could spend the night in his arms.

Stupid.

Those kinds of fantasies belonged to women who were comfortable with their partner
and
their own sexuality.

When Josh's chest had stopped heaving, she wiggled free, briskly toweled the remaining dampness off her skin, dressed and walked back to camp. After all, she was a master at taking what came along and dealing with it.

Even Josh had said so.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

J
OSH
TRIED
NOT
to look at Tara too much as they worked alone the next afternoon.

A deep frustration had taken hold of him when, for the second time, she'd rushed away from their lovemaking as if nothing had happened. He finally understood why women resented it so much when their partner fell asleep quickly or hurried to get dressed and leave. He'd done it himself, hoping to avoid conversation. Yet he would have enjoyed a little afterglow with Tara.

Still, his frustration didn't make sense. What else had he expected? He ought to be
glad
she wasn't gushing or making assumptions. To his old way of thinking, Tara was actually the perfect lover, never seeming to expect a commitment. But he'd been wrong to think that she was cool and emotionless. As Grandpa had said, her eyes told the whole story, provided someone was willing to look hard enough.

“There's nothing here,” he said unnecessarily as he dumped the debris into a bucket.

His grandfather had decided they should pile their discards near the alluvial deposit where they'd been working, so they could smooth it over again later. He'd said it was to keep casual visitors from speculating about why someone had dug there. Despite their lack of success, Walt remained optimistic that sapphires were a possibility and was determined to keep “sapphire rustlers” in the dark.

Josh appreciated his grandfather's unshakable belief that they'd find gems. Yet it also reminded him of something Tara had said...something that had bothered him ever since.

“Tara, a while back you told me I concentrated on rocks instead of gems. What did you mean by that?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Nothing bad, and as soon as I said it, I reminded myself that value is in the eyes of the beholder. An agate is as beautiful as a sapphire, just in a different way.”

Josh nodded. One of his favorite stones was polished aventurine, yet aventurine was inexpensive and easily obtained. But he was also aware that he'd barely looked at his collection in years. He'd concentrated on ranching, ignoring almost everything else.

It was hard not to make comparisons between that and what his grandfather had been telling him.

Josh had always thought that putting the Boxing N first meant that Grandpa hadn't valued his wife. It wasn't true. Walt and Evelyn had shared a good life together, but in their minds, they'd been saving their best times for retirement. Then all their plans had been taken from them.

It was entirely possible that Grandpa both loved and hated the Boxing N the way Tara seemed to think. The ranch was part of Walt's heritage, passed to him by his forebears. Yet it had also gotten more of his attention than the love of his life. Would he ever be able to make peace with it?

Josh piled more rocks into his sieve and began washing them. He'd read that the questions were more important than the answers. He hoped that was true, because he had a whole bunch of questions that might never get answered. And some of the biggest ones had Tara's name on them.

* * *

L
AUREN
READ
THE
CHART
for the next patient, and her breath caught in her throat.

Carl was in for his first checkup. No doubt he was hoping to get his stitches removed and permission to return to work early. Lauren set her jaw... Not if
she
had anything to do with it. The past few days had been much more comfortable for her, knowing he was safe at home. Or at least that he wasn't in uniform. And she didn't want him going back before he was 100 percent fit.

In the examination room, Carl was sitting easily in a chair, reading a
National Geographic
magazine. He tossed it to one side.

“Good morning,” she said brightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I heal fast. I gashed my arm as a kid when I was stupid enough to ride my bike while carrying a mason jar. The doctor was amazed that I tried it again two days later.”

“Did you have another accident?”

“Nope.”

Lauren glanced down at his chart, then blinked and looked up again. “Why were you carrying a mason jar?”

“I was collecting fireflies. I was under the mistaken impression they would make a bang-up nightlight for my little sister.”

She grinned. That sounded like Carl. “Well, your vitals look good, but I need to check the cut to see if the stitches can be removed yet.”

“Okay.” He stood, then sat on the exam table. “The nurse wanted me to wear one of those gowns with the little ties. I told her I could pull up my shirt as easily as one of those dignity-sucking outfits.”

Lauren held back a laugh. “No problem.”

Still, when he lifted his shirt it evoked bedroom images she'd rather not think about. So she locked them firmly into a mental drawer. Shutting out disturbing thoughts was a trick she had employed during training.

She removed the bandages. The slash on Carl's ribs was healing well, but she thought the stitches shouldn't be removed for another few days.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“It was a long cut,” she pointed out. “And it's in an area that gets stretched every time you bend or move. But I think you can start showering again.”

“Good.”

From the expression on his face she suspected he'd already showered at least once. But the wound showed no sign of infection, so it was likely all right. She applied a new, more compact bandage.

“Be sure to keep an eye on it,” she told him. “Come back if it gets red or swollen or you have more than a small amount of clear drainage.”

“Sure.” He sat up and tucked his shirt into place.

“Uh...” Lauren hesitated, but it wasn't right to let him keep assuming his risky job was the only barrier between them.

Carl raised an eyebrow. “Something else?”

“There's something I need to clarify,” she said carefully. “The other night you...well, assumed that my problem with us getting involved is that I can't handle your job. That's just part of it.”

“I'm only your patient until this thing heals,” he returned sharply. “In fact, the next time I come in, I'm asking for another PA. You're fired, as of right now. So you can forget the doctor–patient thing as a reason for not getting involved.”

Lauren gathered her courage. “That isn't what I meant. The thing is...I...I don't deal well with conflict. Maybe that isn't terribly unusual, but it's particularly acute for me.”

Fumbling, she tried to describe her childhood and how any kind of conflict between people left her irrationally convinced it meant the end.

“You're strong, and I knew before we ever went out that you needed someone who could be strong with you,” she concluded miserably. “My old boyfriend in Los Angeles thought it would be okay, and he was a store manager, not a cop. But ultimately he got tired of it and called me ‘the gutless wonder.'”

“That was cruel and uncalled for,” Carl said quickly. “Besides, you can't judge me by what he did.”

“Maybe not, but I know my weaknesses. I only brought this up because I think you're making a mistake to back off whenever a woman is worried about your job. Surely you
want
to be with someone who cares about your safety. So don't try to make that decision for someone else. That isn't fair, and it will cheat you both.”

Lauren rushed from the room, blinking tears from her eyes. The thought of Carl dating someone else hurt, but she'd said what she needed to say.

* * *

T
ARA
SHOOK
HER
head emphatically. “You're wrong, Josh. The designated hitter rule in the American League has a lot of value. There
ought
to be something that distinguishes between the two leagues. And another benefit is that it can extend the career of a great baseball player.”

“It's a ridiculous way to play the game. Everyone who hits should fill a position, and vice versa.”

“In that case, maybe the first-and third-base coaches should be position players, too.”

“That isn't the same thing.”

“It doesn't seem that different to me.” They'd debated the subject for the past ten minutes, and it was plain they would never agree. That was all right. Tara had learned to love baseball while living in Japan and had strong opinions.

When Josh had insisted on staying with her and Walt, she'd expected endless arguments whenever they were alone. Instead, while they'd debated and occasionally sniped at each other, they'd also discussed everything under the sun. Naturally the times he'd ridden down to deal with ranch business had been less stressful, but they'd also felt curiously flat.

She still disliked him, right?

Sexual compatibility didn't mean she'd changed her mind about him being pushy and unreasonable, though admittedly, now that she understood some of the reasons for his behavior, it was easier to forgive.

Not that it mattered. In another ten days or so, Tara estimated their combined supplies would be exhausted. She hadn't told Walt; it still worried her how he'd respond if they didn't find any sapphires.

“Is something wrong?” Josh asked. He'd grown more adept at recognizing the tiniest shift in her mood.

“Just thinking about Walt. He's sensible, but I'd hate to see disappointment setting him back.”

“Grandpa knows you're concerned. I doubt
he
knows how he'll react, but even if we don't find something this time, it doesn't mean the search is over.”

“True. And I'm sure he sees value in simply making the trip. Even a failed attempt can be a valiant quest.”

“That sounds like a fairy-tale conclusion.”

“Because I called it a quest?”

Some of the things they'd debated were words and their uses or meanings and emotional impacts. Josh was smart, well-read and as opinionated as Tara was herself.

Fortunately, the one thing he hadn't tried to discuss was their lovemaking—or sex, or intercourse, or whatever term was most accurate. Tara had always thought “making love” wasn't the right term unless two people were actually
in
love. Anything else was just about satisfying a physical need.

A quiver of desire ran through her veins as she remembered the pleasure she'd experienced that night at the pool. Sex was more powerful than she'd ever believed, but she wasn't in love with him.

After all, who wanted a handsome rancher who thought raising organic cattle was the most important thing in life?

Once she left Montana, she would surely regain her balance.

* * *

J
OSH
SHARED
T
ARA
'
S
worries about his grandfather, though he agreed that Walt would be able to find value in the attempt. Her insight was impressive, particularly when he considered her bleak childhood.

He had to smile when he recalled her firm command not to think she was whining. Tara didn't feel sorry for herself. And while she didn't brag, he'd figured out enough to know she'd gotten through college mostly on her own dime and was in demand in her field.

Actually, it was almost laughable that she'd been willing to clean out the Boxing N ranch office and sort its records. She could write her own ticket anywhere in the world, yet she'd taken on the Boxing N for a fraction of what she could charge elsewhere.

Then, when an old man desperately needed a new interest in life, she'd cheerfully traveled into the mountains to sleep on the ground and spend twelve hours a day in hard and dirty labor.

Josh wondered where his own brain had been for so many months, butting heads with Walt and grinding his teeth because he wasn't getting exactly what he'd dreamed of. He'd completely missed the reason Walt couldn't let go.

“Is this one of those Montana agates?” Tara asked, holding out a stone for him to examine.

“Yeah,” he said, struck again by the fact he'd spent little time on his rock-hound hobby lately.

She tucked it into her pocket. “At first I wondered whether having agates and other stuff all mixed up meant it was ridiculous to think sapphires might also be here. Then I realized that's the point of looking in alluvial deposits. Everything gets washed into streams and rivers and mixed up together.”

“Sure. Stones have been carried by water, so you could have various things from all over the place.”

Tara glanced toward the mountains west of them. “I've been thinking, though. If there are sapphires in alluvial deposits, they'd have to come from somewhere higher up.”

“Probably. Grandpa thinks this area is where the original sapphires were found, and that's why he wanted to search here. But eventually we may need to look elsewhere.”

As he spoke, Josh was aware that he was now completely hooked on the search. He'd had more fun the past few weeks than any other time in recent years. Part of it was his growing relationship with his grandfather...and part of it was spending time with Tara. But it wasn't just the possibility of more incredible sex; she was also good company. She had intelligence and humor in spades and wasn't shy about giving him hell when she didn't agree.

Tara stood and stretched. “I'm going to dig for a while,” she said. “I like to have a good pile for Walt when he comes back.”

“Just a minute,” he said, standing and leading her to the shady spot where the tiny waterfall made their work easier.

Pulling her close, he laid his lips over hers. Lord, she smelled good.

“What was that about?” she asked with the same nonchalance about their intimacy that she'd shown before. Except now he thought it meant more to her than she revealed.

“I wanted to find out what it was like to kiss you without having warm water all over us.”