Cowboy 12 Pack Page 8
“Nothing is going on, Brock. But I’m home. You’re headed home. Maybe it’s best if we leave with good memories intact.”
His forehead pulled into a severe frown. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I can’t come home with you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for inviting me. For not wanting me to be alone tonight and tomorrow. But I’ll be fine.” She touched his cheek. “Really.” She kissed him. “Thank you for caring.”
“Damn it, Natalie. It’s more than caring about you.” He raked his fingers through his short hair. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s damn sure more than care.”
“Go home. See your family. Smile when you remember me and our time at the Sand Castle.”
The red light on the luggage carousel began to blink, and a loud horn honked.
“That’s us.” She turned to walk away when he grabbed her arm to stop her.
“This is it? You’re walking away from…from…”
“Our fling? Yeah. I understood going in that this wasn’t a forever thing.” She forced a smile and hoped her lips weren’t quivering as hard as her knees. “Thank for you for making my vacation unforgettable.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly. It was time to leave before she said or did something she’d regret in the morning. It was impossible to fall in love in only ten days. A little distance and she’d get her perspective back. She dug in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Call me sometime. Let me know you’re okay.”
He took her card and shoved it in his front pocket. “Natalie…”
She bussed his cheek. “Goodbye, Brock.”
She pulled out of his grasp and found her luggage circling. She pulled it off, jerked up the handle and rolled it to her car. She didn’t let herself cry until she was safely behind her wheel and pulling onto Winchester Road. And then the first large tear rolled down her cheek. It was followed by a gush of tears until she finally pulled to the side of the road. She laid her head on her steering wheel and cried.
Chapter Ten
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BROCK COULDN’T BELIEVE Natalie had walked away from him in Memphis. He’d been shocked when he’d gotten off the plane and she’d already headed to luggage claim. But when she told him goodbye in that cold emotionless voice, the jab to his gut had left him breathless.
The traffic from Little Rock to the ranch was thick with last minute shoppers and crazy drivers. Brock swerved from hitting the back end of quite a few cars during his commute. By the time he pulled into the ranch drive, he’d pretty much used up his yearly allotment of cuss words.
But Natalie’s walking away wasn’t his only surprise of the day. The family home was decked out in twinkling lights from the roof to the eaves, to every pole on the porch. In the big picture window stood an enormous evergreen with sparkling lights, ornaments he hadn’t seen in years, and old-fashioned tinsel. Wrapped packages were piled high under the tree.
He was home.
He was barely in the door when Hurricane Lauren whirled up and fired twenty questions at him, not giving him a chance to answer even the first one.
“Did you have fun? What was the resort like? Was it as great as it looked on the internet? Were there any movie stars there? I heard that it was the in place for them. I saw the parasail pictures. Was it fun? Who was the girl in the picture with you? How were your flights?”
Laughing, he pulled his sister in and kissed her forehead. “It was great. The resort was incredible. No movie stars. Can I tell you more once I set my luggage down?”
George and Cody grinned up at him from the two living room sofas.
“Welcome home, bro,” Cody said. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“We didn’t burn down the house or barn while you were gone.”
Brock laughed. “I knew you’d do fine.”
And he had. Sort of. He just hadn’t been willing to let go. But it was obvious they had done fine without him for ten days. Maybe it was time to let them shoulder more of the responsibility around here. At least Cody and George should. Lauren was going to college. He’d sent Cody and George. He wanted to make sure they had more opportunities than he’d ever had.
Not that he begrudged his life. He didn’t. He just hadn’t realized how lonely it was until now.
Until Natalie.
“Okay then,” he said, dropping his luggage at the foot of the stairs and coming back to the living room. He collapsed into his favorite chair with a sigh. “I know I gave you guys lots of crap about going, but thank you. The resort was more than I could imagine. And okay, I’ll admit it. I needed a vacation.”
His two brothers high-fived each other. Brock shook his head but laughed.
“Pictures? You did bring me pictures, right?” Lauren was vibrating with barely contained energy.
“I have lots of pictures.” He realized that Natalie would be in many of those photos, and he wasn’t sure exactly how he would explain who she was. “So, tell me what I’ve missed.”
CHRISTMAS MORNING BROUGHT frigid winds and stinging shards of sleet. The minute Brock’s feet hit the cold hardwood floor, he longed for the hot days at the Sand Castle.
Holiday or not, there was cattle to feed and stalls to muck.
And one sexy, unforgettable woman he had to find a way to forget. Surely ten hours of hard labor would help.
When he got downstairs, fresh coffee filled the pot. Biscuit and ham sandwiches were in the oven on warm. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. His siblings were nowhere to be seen.
After pouring a cup of coffee, he retrieved a hot biscuit sandwich from the oven. He leaned his hip on the counter as he ate, wondering where his siblings were. Wondering if, now that he was home, they’d slept in and handed all the responsibilities back to him.
He sighed. He knew it’d been too good to be true.
As he had the thought, the back door flew open and three icy humans stomped into the kitchen.
“Good Lord it’s cold out there,” Lauren complained. She slapped her gloves together to knock off the ice before slipping them off and dropping them on the table. “Morning sleepyhead,” she teased.
“You have perfect timing,” George said. “We just finished feeding the horses. The barn can wait until this afternoon.”
“What about the cattle?”
“Hank and I will head out after breakfast and presents.” Cody grinned. “We sort of have us a routine now. Hank and I take care of the stock. George and Lauren are in charge of the barn.”
Brock nodded. “Sounds good. Who cooks and does the laundry?”
“Yeah, well. We were kind of hoping to talk you into a housekeeper.”
Brock shook his head. “We can’t afford it.”
“Yeah, we can,” Cody said. “I’ve been looking at the books and, ah, hell. This can wait until tomorrow. I say we get to the present opening.”
Even as Brock followed his loud and boisterous family to the living room, he felt like a semi had driven through his chest, leaving a gaping hole. He plastered a smile on his face and joined them in the annual ripping into the Christmas presents.
After all the presents had been opened, and the givers thanked, Cody dragged George along to help with cattle. He’d told Hank to stay home with his family and that George would take Hank’s place. George had grumbled, but hadn’t put up much of an argument.
The minute the door slammed in the kitchen, Lauren pounced on him. “You know, Brock, our brothers might have heads thick as slabs of concrete, but I don’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brock picked up his empty coffee cup from the sofa table and stood to go to the kitchen.
“You are not the same Brock we sent on vacation.”
He whirled to face her. “I don’t have any idea what you are rambling about.” He whirled back and headed for the sink of dirty dishes.
She followed him.
“Lauren, just leave it be. Okay? I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He heard her
sniff. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who pushed this vacation on you and everybody else.”
“It’s not your fault. I told you. I had a great vacation, so there’s nobody at fault for anything. Aren’t you supposed to go over to your friend’s house for Christmas brunch?”
“That’s not for another two hours.”
He looked at her. She wasn’t grown, but she wasn’t a little girl anymore. But he damned sure wasn’t discussing his love life with her…or any of his family.
“Look, pumpkin. The resort was incredible. The weather was hot. The water was warm. The food was delicious. I’m just grumpy being back in cold, wet weather. That’s all.” He pasted on his plastic smile again. “Who’d want to leave paradise?”
“Are you sure that’s all? Nothing else? Nobody else you want to talk about?”
“I’m sure. Nothing to talk about.” He hugged her. “Now get out of here and go on to the Pettys’. I have laundry to do.”
She hugged him back. “We’re glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.”
Once she left, the house fell into a deathly quiet. Brock slumped on the sofa. He’d screwed up. He didn’t know how he’d screwed up, only that he had. What had he done or said to run Natalie off? The more he thought about it, the surer he was he hadn’t done anything but fall hard for her. He was also sure that no matter what she said or did, Natalie felt as strongly about him as he did about her.
He hadn’t gone looking for love, but damned if it hadn’t sneaked up and bit him on the ass.
Love. He’d fallen in love with Natalie Diamond. Even now he could picture her standing at the sink in the kitchen, or snuggling up next to him on the sofa, or, better yet, naked and moaning in his bed. His cock woke up at that thought.
They owed it to each other to see where this relationship—or whatever it was—went.
He pulled her card from his pocket and dialed her home phone number. The phone began to ring. The palms of his hands began to sweat. It was possible he was in this all by himself. It was possible that he had just been a fling for Natalie.
The phone rang until her message machine told him to leave a message.
“Merry Christmas, babe. This is Brock. Call me.” He left his number.
After an hour when she hadn’t called back, he rang her again. And again he got her voice mail.
Then he got worried. What if something had happened on her drive home? If she’d been in an accident, nobody would know. Who knew to check if she made it home safely last night? His family had been on the lookout for him, but her parents were on a cruise somewhere.
He heard the crunch of tires on the icy gravel. Probably one of Lauren’s friends coming by to see her Christmas haul. He geared himself up for a giggling teenager and waited for the doorbell.
It took a while for Lauren’s friend to make it from car to porch. By the time the doorbell rung, he was fully irritated at having to serve as his sister’s doorman on Christmas.
He flung open the door and froze. A punch as solid as a mule kick hit him in the gut.
“Hi.” Natalie stood looking up at him.
When he continued to stand there, she added, “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Of course not. Come in.”
He closed the door behind her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m here. And I’m freezing.”
“Give me your coat. How did you get here?”
She slipped off the heavy winter coat and handed it to him. “I drove. You realize that between my house and your house is a lot of crappy weather, right? The simple four-hour-drive you promised me took closer to six.” She watched him as he hung her coat on a peg.
His heart beat like a bass drum in his ears. His sweaty palms were back. He could hardly catch his breath.
“You came,” he said.
“I came.”
“Why?” He had to ask. He had to know if their feelings were the same.
“Why did you ask me to come?”
Their gazes met and held, each of them seemingly waiting on the other to speak first.
He took a step toward her. “I asked you to come because I knew what we had at the Sand Castle wasn’t a vacation fling. At least not for me. And I don’t believe it was for you either.”
She took a step closer to him. “It wasn’t a fling.”
“I…” He paused, knowing the next words would either send her into his arms or out his door. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
She nodded. “Yep. Same problem over here.”
When he smiled, she threw herself into his arms and covered his face with kisses. He caught her face between his hands and crushed her mouth in a deep kiss. Their tongues said all the things their words couldn’t, or couldn’t yet.
I love you.
I love you too.
Don’t go.
I’m not going anywhere.
The End
About the Author
Award-winning author Cynthia D’Alba was born and raised in a small Arkansas town. After being gone for a number of years, she’s thrilled to be making her home back in Arkansas living in a vine-covered cottage on the banks of an eight-thousand acre lake. When she’s not reading or writing or plotting, she’s doorman for her two dogs, cook, housekeeper and chief bottle washer for her husband and slave to a noisy, messy parrot. She loves to chat online with friends and fans.
You can find her most days at one of the following online homes:
Website:
cynthiadalba.com
Facebook:
Facebook/cynthia.dalba
Twitter:
@cynthiadalba
Or drop her a line at:
cynthia@cynthiadalba.com
Or send snail mail to:
Cynthia D’Alba PO Box 2116 Hot Springs, AR 71914
Look for these other titles by Cynthia D’Alba
Texas Two Step: The Prequel
Texas Two Step, Book One, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Tango, Book Two, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Fandango, Book Three, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Twist, Book Four, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Texas Bossa Nova, Book Five, Texas Montgomery Mavericks
Look for short stories by Cynthia D’Alba in these collections:
Cowboy Heat
Smokin’ Hot Firemen
Wild at Heart, Vol. 1
The Mammoth Book of ER Romances
Sadie and Her Cowboy
Paige Tyler
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Copyright © 2012 by Paige Tyler
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author.
Cover Design by Gemini Judson
Dedication
With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband, without whose help and support I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for!
Thank you.
Sadie and Her Cowboy
It’s all or nothing for Sadie, her ranch and the dangerous cowboy she’s fallen for hard.
When a ruthless cattle baron is determined to do anything to get his hands on Sadie Buchanan’s ranch, including running off her ranch hands and killing her cattle, she hires the infamous gunslinger Jake Wagner to protect her property.
Despite the fact that they butt heads right from the start, Sadie is helplessly drawn to the ruggedly handsome cowboy, even when he warms her bottom repeatedly for her willful and sometimes reckless behavior.
But all the cards are put on the table when Sadie bets the cattle baron that she, Jake and her small band of cowpokes can get more cattle to market than anyone in their right mind would attempt.
It’s al
l or nothing for Sadie, her ranch and the dangerous cowboy she’s fallen for hard.
Chapter One
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Rocky River, Wyoming Territory, 1883
SADIE BUCHANAN KNEW it was unladylike to swear, but at the moment, she didn’t feel very much like a lady. She felt like a cattle ranch owner who was being targeted by a wealthy, merciless land baron intent on getting his hands on her property no matter the cost. And she was spitting mad about it. If she were a man, she’d march right over there and box that bastard’s ears. But she wasn’t a man. And unfortunately, she didn’t feel comfortable sending any of the men who worked for her, either. Not that there were many of them left, she thought bitterly. In between cutting the fences and poisoning the cattle, that varmint Harlan Boone had talked her best ranch hands into leaving her and going to work for him. Either that, or scared them away. The only ranch hands who stayed with her were the men who had been with her father so long they were practically family. She wasn’t about to let any of them go over to Boone’s place and get themselves shot. Or worse.
Tears stung her eyes at the thought of her father, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. It had been a year since Angus Buchanan’s death and she still couldn’t think about him without crying. Maybe because she’d never been allowed to grieve for her father the way she should have. No, she’d been too busy fending off the vultures trying to steal his ranch out from under her. Now, after everything, it looked like she might lose it anyway.
“Ain’t no question about it, Miss Sadie. Those fences were cut, just like the others.”
Sadie looked up at Ned Jeffries, shielding her eyes with her hand against the midday sun. He was frowning at the piece of fence she’d been examining, the lines on his face etched even deeper. Ned had been with her father since he’d bought the ranch. In addition to being foreman, he’d been her father’s most trusted friend and confidant. Now, he’d become hers.