His Favorite Cowgirl Page 14

  “The count?” she prodded. Cow dogs zigzagged back and forth beside the dozen cattle they had rounded up on another foray into their assigned section.

  “That makes nine hundred and eighty-four head. How many did you say Paul had on the books?” Hank waved his hat, encouraging the new additions to join the main herd.

  “A thousand and six.” Kelly tossed her braid over her shoulder. “But if he kept records the way he kept track of everything else on the ranch, I wouldn’t put much stock in that number.”

  Hank sucked on the inside of his cheek. Twenty-plus cows were too many to leave unaccounted. Along with his crew, he and Kelly had scoured every inch of the Bar X’s four thousand acres. They’d searched behind every tree, ridden through dense patches of palmetto, followed every stream and circled every pond. He tugged on the reins, aiming Star for the gate. “I’ll be horsewhipped if I can figure out where the rest of those strays are hiding, but let’s give the area around the slough another look.”

  “Now?” Kelly asked as their horses plodded through the marginal grass while the dogs ranged ahead of them. “You don’t want to call it quits for the day? Noelle’s bus will be along soon, and I need to visit Pops later. Besides, I think we’re in for a blow.”

  Hank glanced at the glowering sky. The thick cloud cover made it difficult to judge the sun’s height. “Relax,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. “We have plenty of time.” He pushed his hat off his face and blotted his forehead with a bandana. “Have I told you how much Noelle and I appreciate the riding lessons?” Since Kelly had begun teaching his daughter the basics of barrel racing, there’d been a noticeable improvement in the girl’s attitude.

  “Only about a billion times,” Kelly quipped. Her expression turned pensive. “You’re sure the weather will hold another couple of hours?” The slough was nearly an hour’s ride to the east.

  “I checked the forecast before we headed out. This cloud cover should burn off, leaving us with bright sunshine straight through the weekend.”

  “I’m pretty sure the weatherman’s aim was off this morning.”

  The joke was an old one—something about how the newscasters determined their predictions by throwing darts at a board—and his lips tightened into a thin line. With the Atlantic on one side and the Gulf of Mexico on the other, rain was the only certainty in Florida’s otherwise fickle weather. The low clouds scuttling across the sky proved his point. He let his gaze drop to the herd they’d gathered in the section closest to the Barlowe ranch. Though one or two nosed the ground around the last silage tube, most of the cattle lay on the ground. The cows lowed, one loud mrruh blending into the general chorus.

  Okay, it probably was going to rain, but a little water never hurt anyone.

  To show he could be a good sport, Hank reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a poncho. He kneed Star closer to Kelly. “You can put this on if you want.” He held out the slicker.

  Kelly lifted an eyebrow, giving him a look he recognized from their childhood. Lady sidestepped out of reach. “I’m not afraid of getting wet if you aren’t,” she said, just as the first drops splattered her cowboy hat. One of the dogs whined.

  The poncho draped across his saddle, Hank urged Star into a trot. “Let’s make tracks, then. We’ll check one last place and be home before you know it.”

  But they only made it halfway across the field before the wind picked up. The air grew so close and so thick Hank could practically feel the barometer dropping. Regretting the decision not to head for the barn, he shook his head.

  “I’m thinking we’re in for a gully washer,” he shouted over a gusting breeze. “Aim for the trees.” A quarter mile away, a thick stand of Australian pines offered more protection from the elements than they’d have on the wide-open pasture. He urged Star into a ground-eating lope while the dogs raced on ahead.

  Despite the faster pace, they were still a hundred yards from the tree line when the rain began pelting down in heavy, wet sheets. The grass flattened beneath the deluge. In seconds, water plastered his shirt against his chest, soaked his jeans. It poured off the brim of his hat, creating a miniature waterfall that ran down his back. As if that wasn’t enough, the temperature fell as the superheated ground soaked up the cooler moisture.

  Ahead, the dogs darted under low-hanging branches. They shook themselves and, with their noses to the ground, set off to explore. Slowing Star to a walk, Hank guided the horse into a break between the trees. Within seconds, Kelly did the same. He led them deeper into the makeshift shelter to a spot where the rain barely dripped from overhead limbs. Star and Lady stomped and blew air, their tails swishing. Guilt tugged at his midsection when he realized Kelly’s thin blouse had gotten drenched. A steady trickle ran from her waterlogged jeans to the tips of her boots before splashing onto the carpet of pine needles. Her pale features peeked out from beneath her Stetson, making her look like a forlorn waif.

  “Hey, now.” He couldn’t have that. He swung down from Star. “Give me your reins.” When Kelly handed them over, he tied the little mare to a sturdy tree branch. “Here, let me help.”

  He’d only meant to lend a hand. Obviously, though, he hadn’t considered the consequences of filling his arms with the living, breathing woman of his dreams. The brush of her body against his sent a current straight through him. Soaking wet, her shirt molded to her like a second skin. Her teeth chattered. The chill bumps on her arms sent his stomach into a spiral.

  “Jeez, Kel.” He held her at arm’s length. “You’re a block of ice. We’ve got to get you warmed up or you’ll be the first person in Florida to ever die of hypothermia.”

  “I’m-m-m o-k-k-ay,” she managed.

  His stomach twisted in earnest. This vulnerability was so unexpected, he didn’t know quite how to handle it, so he did the only thing that came to mind. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.

  “I’m sorry, Kelly. Sorry for everything.” The long line of mistakes he’d made with her stretched clear back to the day she’d given him the wonderful, awful news that she was pregnant.

  Beneath the pines, very little rain filtered through a dense roof made of boughs and palmetto fronds. The drops that made it through landed on the thick bed of pine needles with a soft tapping sound. He didn’t know how long they stood there, holding each other, while his mind played the “What If?” game, taunting him with questions for which there were no good answers.

  What if lightning had accompanied the rain and the rising wind? What if Kelly had been caught out in it because he was too stubborn to give up on a few cows that probably didn’t exist anyway? What if, all those years ago, he’d hung on to her?

  Pressed to his chest, she sniffled. He tightened his grip on her and drew in a deep breath. “This was all my fault. I should have listened to you. Should have headed in when you first suggested it.”

  Kelly tipped slightly reddened cheeks to his face. “Well, I did sort of dare you a little.”

  Was that forgiveness he saw dancing in her eyes?

  The temperature had dropped steadily, but it wasn’t the cold that spread goose bumps across his shoulders and down his arms. He owed that to new possibilities. He nuzzled her neck, a delicious warmth stirring low in his belly. Kelly smelled of soap and lilac. The scent mingled pleasantly with the crisp, clean smell of pine.

  “Kelly?” he whispered.

  Her face flushed with a glow that told him she felt the same way he did, but her jaw firmed. Her lips pursed. “We’d better get back to the others.”

  Hank’s hands dropped from her waist. He knew that look. He’d seen it before. She’d worn it when she had overruled his objections and insisted on a surprise party for his sixteenth birthday. She’d sported it again the night she’d broken things off with him.

  The woman had a stubborn streak, he’d give her that. But they weren’t teenagers
anymore. He was older now and, he hoped, wiser. They could be more than friends. They could have a future together. He tried to stare into her green eyes, but they wouldn’t meet his own. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He might as well have poured a bucket of ice water over her head for all the good his questions did. Kelly’s face shuttered. “We can’t,” she whispered, backing out of his arms. “We can’t do this.”

  “Kelly, I know I don’t deserve it, but I feel like we’ve been given a second chance, you and me. If you don’t want it, if you don’t feel the same way I do, just say it now and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just...” Her voice trailed off while her features twisted, as if she were teetering on the edge of tears. “I can’t afford to get involved with you again, Hank. We both have lives elsewhere. Neither of us is going to stick around.”

  It didn’t have to be that way. She’d stepped out of his arms, but she hadn’t turned him down, not completely. He grabbed hold of that thought and held on to it. He wanted her. More than anyone he’d ever wanted before. More importantly—at least to his heart—he’d fallen for her. He prayed she felt the same way.

  The rain had stopped. A breeze rattled the limbs overhead, showering Hank and Kelly with droplets. Thin beams of bright sunshine filtered through the pines and palmettos. It was time to move on...wherever they were headed. They’d made a mess of things once before. If they didn’t get it right this time, they’d never have another chance. But, unlike the last time when he’d foolishly walked away from her, this time, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  LADY TOSSED HER HEAD. Her ears flat, the sturdy little mare danced sideways. Kelly loosened her tight grip on the reins. She drew in a steadying breath, hoping to tame a fine tremble which had nothing to do with the sudden drop in temperature and everything to do with the handsome rancher riding beside her. The one she’d fallen in love with all over again, despite her best efforts to keep her distance.

  When he’d held her beneath the trees, it had taken every lick of strength in her considerable arsenal not to kiss him. But she knew from experience that kissing Hank would never be enough. She’d never felt so safe, so loved, so accepted as she had when she was sheltered in Hank’s arms. She wanted more, wanted him to complete her as no other man had ever done. But he’d fooled her once before, tricked her into believing they’d have forever together. And though, lately, everything she learned about him practically shouted that he’d changed, she had to be sure before she gave into her feelings.

  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t forget the night she’d gone to him—two parts scared, one part thrilled—with the discovery that she was pregnant. And he had let her down. That night, she’d hungered for reassurance. For Hank’s arms around her. For promises that they’d always be together, no matter what. But the unmistakable anger that had flooded Hank’s face had shaken her love for him. And the accusations, the questions that had followed had only confirmed her worst fears. He hadn’t been in their relationship for the long haul. He had wanted his freedom more than he’d wanted her, or their baby.

  She had tried her best to fall out of love with him ever since. And had failed. No matter how much she wished it, she’d never loved another man the way she did him. Now that they’d been given a second chance, could she trust him to stay by her side?

  Throughout the years she’d spent on the Bar X, Pops had regaled her with stories of how the men on the Circle P had chosen the easiest path. They had put themselves first, without caring for the needs of others, he’d insisted. As an example, he’d cited the time a Tompkins had wanted to draw more water from the Kissimmee River. Their downstream neighbors had objected strenuously, concerned more about their own water rights than anyone else’s.

  Hank’s reaction to the pregnancy, combined with his utter relief when she told him she’d miscarried, had supported her grandfather’s claims. It had shown her a side of Hank she hadn’t wanted to accept.

  Yet, despite the hard feelings between their families, Hank had saved her grandfather’s life. He’d worked double time, making repairs on the Bar X while holding down his day job at the Circle P. Thanks to the effort he’d put into it, what had started out as a rocky relationship with his daughter was developing into something more than either of them had thought possible.

  But was he in it for good? Or would he send his daughter packing the moment his ex returned from her cruise? And what about her own relationship with Hank? If they gave it another shot, would he turn his back on her whenever life got hard?

  She glanced twenty yards to her left where Hank scoured the brush for strays. She brushed tears from her eyes before they could leave telltale tracks down her cheeks. The man she loved had changed, and she wanted to give him—to give them—another chance. If she was wrong, if she’d misjudged him, he’d break her heart all over again. But wasn’t it worth the risk?

  Lowering her hand, she caught the slightest bit of movement at the edge of a palmetto thicket. Fronds rustled as she urged Lady through the waist-high brush.

  “Hank, you gotta see this,” she called.

  Looking as if they were simply soaking up the rays instead of hiding out from the ranch hands who’d spent the better part of five days searching for them, a dozen head of gray Brahman stared at her from the other side of the thick brush.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Hank said softly as he pulled in beside her.

  “What do we do with them now?” Kelly asked. It’d take hours to move the cows into the pasture where they’d gathered the rest of the herd.

  “We can’t leave ’em here.” Left to their own devices, these stragglers would probably disappear into the brush again. Hank loosened his rope from his saddle.

  Kelly shielded her eyes from the sun, which had reappeared from behind the clouds. So bright it was practically white, the fiery globe sank toward the horizon. “With the cattle drive starting tomorrow, I need to see Pops sometime today.” Though he probably didn’t know or care that she’d come, she had been doing her best to visit her grandfather daily.

  “How ’bout this. You meet Noelle’s bus and take her with you. I’ll finish up here.” Hank signaled the dogs, who rushed to work as if they had to make up for not finding the missing cattle on their own. The cows sang an unhappy chorus as, one by one, they lumbered to their feet.

  “Promise her a candy bar,” Hank shouted over the din. “She won’t put up much of an argument.” He whistled and twirled his lariat, herding the cattle at a steady clip toward the far pasture.

  It might take more than a candy bar to make up for missing our barrel-racing practice, Kelly thought. Their daily lessons had progressed so well that Noelle had a good chance of bringing home a blue ribbon from the upcoming rodeo.

  Too bad I won’t be here to see it.

  Her heart stuttered when she thought of all the things she’d miss by returning to Houston. Hank, of course. Noelle’s first appearance at the rodeo. Her grandfather’s continued recovery. She’d miss the land, too. Rising early and taking her coffee out to the front porch. Mucking stalls, and smelling sweet, fresh hay. Seeing the tiny shiver of pleasure that ran down Lady’s neck when she worked a curry comb through her long mane.

  Stockpiling memories she could pull out and reexamine during occasional breaks in her hectic schedule, she reined Lady toward the ranch house. There, she took a quick shower, managing to climb into her truck just as a big yellow bus turned off the main road. Dust rose in its wake. Clenching her teeth on a bone-rattling ride, Kelly reached the end of the drive with seconds to spare. She flagged down the driver.

  Shouts, laughter and the happy banter of kids ready for the weekend flowed through the windows as Noelle skipped down the steps. The girl tossed her backpack into the wheel well of Kelly’s truck and slid in, still waving to classmates who, only five days earlier, had gi
ven her the cold shoulder.

  “Good day?” Kelly asked, though one look at Noelle’s happy face made the question unnecessary.

  Noelle snapped her seat belt. “Riley invited me to a sleepover in two weeks.” She glanced into the backseat. “Where’s Dad? He usually meets my bus.”

  “We found a group of strays that had been playing hide-and-seek with us.” Kelly put the truck in gear. “He asked me to pick you up.”

  “Whew, what a relief.” Noelle gave her forehead an exaggerated swipe. “I love him an’ all, but he’s not much help when it comes to clothes and stuff. What do you think I should wear to Riley’s? Dad’ll let me go, won’t he?”

  “I’m sure he’ll say yes.” In just a couple of weeks, both Hank and Noelle had changed considerably. He’d put some serious effort into becoming a better father, while his grumpy, challenging preteen had morphed into a fun, happy child. A child any woman would be proud to call her daughter. Kelly’s throat tightened. As much as she loved Noelle, she couldn’t become the girl’s surrogate mom. Especially not since she’d be a thousand miles away by the night of the sleepover.

  Noelle’s eyebrows rose when Kelly turned toward the main road. “Wait. We’re not going home?”

  “I thought you could come with me to visit Pops.” Kelly halted the truck at the stop sign. A right turn would take them toward Okeechobee. A left, to the Circle P. “I cleared it with your dad, but I can drop you off if you’d rather.”

  “Nah.” Noelle settled into her seat. “That’s cool.” The girl launched into a recitation of the day’s events, which lasted all the way to Okeechobee. Kelly soaked in every minute of it, knowing these moments would be something else she’d unwrap and relive during the long, lonely nights in Houston. At the rehab center, she sent Noelle off in search of the snack machine while she checked on her grandfather’s progress.