Читать книгу Colton: Rodeo Cowboy - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 10

Chapter Two

Colt didn’t make a habit of kissing women in public places, either. Generally, he was pretty circumspect when it came to matters of the libido. But this was different. Leah Stockton was different. How could you fall in love at first sight with someone you’d known all your life?

But the pretty woman sitting at the bar had caught his eye as soon as he walked into the Open Range Saloon. Her long dark hair and tall, slim body were part of the appeal, but even more was the way she sat on her stool, with saddle-perfect posture, her body relaxed and yet confident and poised for action.

He’d headed straight for her. And then he’d heard her voice as she spoke to the bartender and he’d stopped to listen.

He knew her.

A few seconds later, he had the darts in his hand, ready to issue his challenge. But it wasn’t until she looked him in the eyes that it really hit him.

Holy shit, she was a stunner. He’d known Leah since they were kids and yet, somehow, this truth had never sunk in before. Or maybe the passing years had changed her in some subtle, yet earth-shattering way.

Just five minutes into their conversation, it occurred to him that Leah might be the answer to a question he hadn’t been smart enough to ask yet. Being unfocused and aimless in your twenties wasn’t such a bad thing. Once you hit thirty, though, your sense of time shifted.

Years went by faster.

You understood that opportunities were either seized, or rarely encountered again.

He wanted to seize. And Leah’s eyes told him she was willing. As he leaned toward her, she met him halfway, and when their mouths connected, he stopped thinking, because everything felt so natural and right. This woman made him melt and burn at the same time, and his body felt stirred with a primal, yet mind-

blowing intensity.

“We have to leave,” he told her.

“Yes.”

He left money on the table, next to the drinks they hadn’t quite finished. If any of his friends were watching, no one was foolish enough to say anything to him. He felt as if he would have to punch anyone who caused them even a second’s delay in getting out of there.

The night air was cool and refreshing after the rain, but it didn’t dampen in the slightest his desire to take this woman someplace quiet and private. Leah stumbled slightly as they crossed the street, and he pulled her up closer beside him. Thank God this was Roundup, and there was no traffic, because he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, right there, in the middle of the street.

Her slender body formed perfectly against his bigger, harder one. He felt her fingers in his hair, her breath on his mouth. He filled his own hands with the curves of her butt, pulling her closer, nuzzling her neck, her collarbone, the silky lobe of her ear.

“Where?” Even his whisper came out sounding hoarse.

“I don’t know.”

“Can I take you back to my trailer?”

Her lips were against his ear now and he could hear her sigh. “I wish—but no. That won’t work.”

“Then…?” His mind raced as he tried to think of a suitable place to make love with this beautiful woman. But before he could come up with a solution, she was sighing again.

“You’d better walk me home, Colt. To my mother’s place.”

Not the answer he’d been hoping for. But maybe, if they were quiet, they could sneak into Leah’s bedroom without waking Prue Stockton. Leah was an adult, after all, and he was someone she’d known most of her life.

Leah slipped out of his arms, turned, then stumbled again. “Oops!”

Her giggle was infectious and he had to smile, too, even as he wondered just how much she’d had to drink before he’d shown up at the bar. “Careful, darlin’. Here, let me help you.”

He asked for her mother’s address, then hand-in-hand they walked the four blocks. He savored each moment with her, his heart full-to-bursting with an emotion he’d never experienced before. He could feel the smile on his face getting bigger each time he looked at her. Even tipsy, Leah had a confident, athletic gait. At the same time she was undeniably female….

“Here we are.” Leah stopped at a Victorian-styled two-story several blocks south of the high school. The house was dark, except for a small exterior lantern to the side of the front door. Two vehicles were parked under the carport to the left of the house—a modest sedan and a Ford truck. The back of the truck was loaded with furniture and boxes.

“The truck yours?”

“You bet.”

“Nice.” He’d never dated a woman who drove a truck before. Seemed like another good sign to him. He held Leah’s hand as they climbed the steps up the porch, then waited as she opened the unlocked front door.

She gave him a smile. “Good night, Colt.”

“To hell with that.” He pulled her in for another kiss, savoring the softness of her lips, the sweet scent of her hair. Cupping the sides of her face, he pressed the tip of her nose to his. “How about inviting me in, darlin’? I’ll make pancakes for your mama in the morning. Win her over with my charm.”

This didn’t elicit the smile he expected. Instead, Leah frowned. “Those would have to be mighty special pancakes, Colt. My mom doesn’t impress easily. Besides, it would be too confusing for Jill and Davey. I haven’t dated anyone since I divorced their father.”

Suddenly dizzy, Colt put a hand to the wooden railing by the door. “Jill and Davey?”

“My children.” Leah looked at him as if he had a screw loose. “You knew about them, right?”

Bloody hell didn’t. Colt opened his mouth, not sure what to say. “How old are they?”

“Davey is two, Jill five.”

Leah crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. Colt knew his reaction was upsetting her, yet he couldn’t seem to get his breathing under control or his mind to work properly. He was just so blown away by all of this. How was it that no one—not a family member, or a friend—had mentioned that Leah Stockton had children?

“You’re doing the math, aren’t you?” Leah finally said. “But I’m not ashamed of the fact that I married Jackson because I was pregnant. It was the right thing to do. As it turned out, we couldn’t make the relationship work, but at least I tried.”

Oh, God. Stop talking, Leah. He didn’t want to hear this. Not any of it.

“You’re right. Pancakes were a very bad idea.” He took a step away from the door, away from her.

“Colt?”

“I should get going.” The chill in the air cut through his shirt and the night sky seemed very bleak all of a sudden.

“You’re leaving? Just like that?”

He took another step away. Dinah had said something similar to him, only that afternoon. Badly timed exits were becoming something of a pattern in his life. Colt raised his hat to Leah. In the cold light of day she would be grateful the evening had ended this way.

* * *

“I WISH YOU WEREN’T so set on moving out.” Prue Stockton, in a pressed housedress with her hair neatly combed, stood at the kitchen counter, dipping homemade bread into her own special egg concoction for French toast.

The sight reminded Leah of Colt’s pancake offer of the previous night. An offer he’d backed away from promptly, when he heard about her kids.

Leah took a mug from the counter, filled it with water, which she forced herself to drink, then refilled it with coffee from the carafe on the counter. She didn’t begrudge the pain pulsing in her skull—it seemed fair retribution for the mistakes she’d made last night.

Getting tipsy at the Open Range Saloon and picking up a cowboy was not acceptable behavior for the mother of two small children. She was just thankful that her mother knew none of this.

“I’m thirty-two years old. Don’t you think that’s too old to be living with my mother?”

“Living with your husband is where you ought to be.” Her mom shot her a hard look, then returned her focus to her cooking. “But let’s not get into that argument again.”

“Let’s not,” Leah agreed. They had other things to fight about today. Starting with the house she’d rented.

“It won’t be easy raising two children on your own. And I have lots of room here.”

“I’ve already signed a one-year lease, Mom, so I’m committed.” Leah opened the dishwasher, intending to unload the dinner dishes from yesterday, but her mother had beaten her to it. She decided to set the breakfast table instead.

“Think of the money you could have saved.”

Her mother was nothing if not persistent.

“I’m okay for money, Mom. Jackson and I had quite a bit of equity in the house we sold in Calgary.” Leah set out the blue-and-white dishes that had been in her family for as long as she could remember. “He’s making monthly support payments for the kids, and once I get a few bookkeeping clients, I’ll be fine.”

“What are you going to do for furniture?”

Leah had brought the kids’ beds and all their toys from Calgary. Added to that their clothing and other personal effects, she hadn’t had room in the back of her truck for anything else.

She knew her mother had some of the furniture from the old guesthouse on the farm stored in her basement. At one time her grandmother had lived in the small cottage. After she passed on, her mother used the extra room for putting up guests and the occasional farmhand her dad hired during seeding and harvest times.

“I was wondering if I could borrow the bed and sofa from our old guesthouse?”

She half expected her mother to say no. But Prue Stockton wasn’t a mean woman. “You may have them, Leah, if you’re truly set on moving out. There’s a rattan table and four chairs that you’re welcome to as well.”

“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.”

Prue sighed. “Better wake the children. Breakfast is just about ready.”

Leah headed for the stairs to do as told. Her mother was right about one thing. She did have lots of room in this house. There were four bedrooms and a large bathroom on the upper story. Leah thought it was strange that her mother had moved into such a large place. But maybe a smaller bungalow had been too much of a shock after the sprawling farmhouse Prue had managed for almost thirty years.

Upstairs, Leah peered into the first door on the left, and wasn’t surprised to find Jill’s bed empty. She found the little girl in her brother’s room. She and Davey were sleeping side by side in the single bed, snuggly enclosed by the safety bars that Leah had brought from home.

Leah could never wake her children without first taking a moment to appreciate their sweet little faces in repose. They both had her dark hair and long, thick eyelashes. After a long, cold winter in Calgary, their skin was pale and she looked forward to getting them out for lots of sun and play in their new home. She stroked the side of Jill’s face, and her daughter’s eyes immediately sprang open.

“Why are you sleeping in here again, honey?”

“Davey had another nightmare.”

Leah didn’t know why Jill didn’t want to own up to the bad dreams. Nor did she understand why Jill chose to go to her brother for comfort, instead of her mom. But she felt it was wise to simply take Jill’s answers at face value for now.

“You’re a nice sister to take such good care of your brother. Now, why don’t you run to the washroom and clean your hands? Grandma’s making your favorite breakfast.”

“French toast? Yay!” Jill sprang out of the bed, jumping over the safety barrier with the ease of a natural athlete. Given that both her parents had been pros in the rodeo circuit, Leah supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Toast?” Davey pushed his head up from the pillow then lifted his butt in the air—a maneuver that looked like a modified child’s pose in yoga. “I want fwench toast, Mommy.”

Though he was almost three, Davey’s speech wasn’t very advanced. He spoke in short sentences at best and had trouble with his rs. Leah wasn’t worried…yet. She figured the divorce and the recent move to Montana might be part of the problem. In time, she hoped Davey would catch up to the verbal ability of his peers.

“Let’s go to the bathroom first, honey.” He’d only been weaned from his bedtime diaper a few months ago. She’d expected he might regress after the move, but luckily he hadn’t.

Five minutes later both children were washed and sitting at the breakfast table. Leah knew her mother would prefer that the children were properly dressed, as well, but she was too much the doting grandmother to insist on it.

As she watched the children tuck in to their food, Leah couldn’t help but think of Colt again. She felt like such a fool for falling all over him last night. She’d actually thought she saw layers of depth in Colt that she’d never seen before. She should have known he wasn’t serious, that he was just messing with her.

He’d stopped the charade fast enough when he found out she was a mother. She still wasn’t sure what he’d objected to most. The fact that she’d “had” to get married because she was pregnant? Or just the fact that she had kids, and so had responsibilities that he didn’t.

At any rate, it was good that he’d revealed his true colors so quickly. Getting involved with a self-absorbed cowboy was one mistake she didn’t intend to repeat.

* * *

COLT WAS UP BEFORE dawn on Sunday morning, hauling oats and hay into the feeders, ignoring the protests of his rodeo-weary body. Pulled muscles and bruises, sprains and broken bones, came with the territory. Most cowboys worked despite their injuries. He had ridden with bruised ribs, sprained fingers, even a mild concussion, once.

He didn’t mind physical pain. On some level he welcomed it.

He’d hardly slept last night after leaving Leah. He’d behaved badly at the end and he knew it. But he’d been so damn disappointed. They could have been good together. If only he’d recognized that years ago, before she married another man—before she had children….

The sun was creeping up on the eastern horizon when one of the ranch hands came out to join him. Darrell was in his mid-forties, a steady family man who had been working at the ranch for as long as Colt could remember. Like Royce, Darrell was a man of few words. Most wranglers were.

“You’re out early.” Darrell glanced at the feeders. “Looks like you’ve done my work for me.”

Colt removed his leather work gloves and flexed his fingers. “I guess there’s more than enough to go around. Or so my brother is always telling me.”

“Ace works damn hard,” Darrell conceded. “That new stallion isn’t helping matters much.”

“Midnight?” The black-as-coal recent addition to their breeding stock program was a worry, all right. The family had paid a lot of money at auction for the stallion—the price driven up in a testosterone-fueled bidding war with their neighbor, Earl McKinley.

“Ace has pumped a hell of a lot of time, not just money, into that animal.”

“He’s been a good breeder out in the field, though, right?”

Darrell nodded. “Yeah, but we need to be able to breed him in a controlled environment. And Midnight still won’t stand for that.”

Colt nodded thoughtfully. “Think I’ll go pay my respects. Maybe give Midnight his workout for the day.”

“Good idea. Gracie usually does that, but this is her day off.” Darrell gave him a nod, then headed toward the new mares’ barn to continue with his chores.

The morning sun was bathing the ranch in gold as Colt made his way to Midnight’s stud quarters. Colt was on the road a lot, but usually that only made him appreciate his home all the more when he returned. Late spring was a beautiful time of year with the trees in full leaf, and the grass thick and green. Colt inhaled deeply. Nothing finer than the pure air that blew off the Bull Mountains. He knew he was damn lucky to call Montana home.

If only he could find the inner peace to match his surroundings…

He found Midnight at the far end of his paddock, nuzzling his favorite mare, Fancy Gal. They sure made an odd-looking couple—the pregnant dun mare and the majestic black stallion. Come next spring, it was going to be interesting to see what their foal looked like.

Colt climbed over the fence and paused to see how Midnight would react. The stallion shook his mane and pranced backward a few steps. Colt had to admit that all of Ace’s doctoring was paying off. The stallion’s coat was glossy and thick, and he’d lost that wild look that spoke of the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of the damned foreman who’d been hired by Midnight’s previous owners.

“Hey, boy. How’s it going?” Colt moved slowly toward the horse. He supposed Midnight was on break from his stud duties while Ace was on his honeymoon. “Feel like stretching out those long legs of yours today?”

Midnight jerked his head upright as Colt approached, and laid his ears back.

“It’s okay, boy. No one’s going to hurt you here on Thunder Ranch. You’ve figured that out by now, haven’t you?” From the pocket of his denim jacket, he pulled out one of Angie Barrington’s special horse cookies. Along with carrots they were Midnight’s favorite treat.

Cautiously Midnight accepted the goody, then backed right off again.

“You miss Gracie, don’t you, boy? Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept talking as he moved closer, angling the horse toward the gate that led to the dirt-packed, round arena they used for exercising and training young horses.

Midnight was no fool. He knew where Colt wanted him to go. Yet he resisted. Why? Colt wondered. He studied the horse’s dark eyes, trying to understand what was going on in his head.

Eventually Colt coaxed the stallion into the arena where he used hand gestures and encouraging words to get Midnight to run laps around the perimeter of the fence. A few times Midnight seemed to get into it, but then he would fall back and give Colt a resigned look as if to say, This is it? This is the most excitement you can give me?

“Not too enthusiastic, is he?”

Colt started at the sound of his mother’s voice. He turned around and saw her leaning against the fence, one booted foot on the lower rung. She was wearing an old corduroy coat she’d owned for ages and her cheeks were ruddy from the cool morning air.

“Sorry about yesterday, Mom.”

“It’s Ace and Flynn you need to apologize to.”

“I will. As soon as they’re back from their honeymoon.” He glanced back at Midnight, who had stopped running and was nibbling at the grass growing at the edge of the fence. “Has anyone tried riding him yet?”

His mother looked amused. “That horse was born to buck. I don’t think anyone would dare.”

“Well, maybe we should let him compete in rodeos again. He needs to get some exercise somehow. Loping around this arena just doesn’t cut it.”

“That would be pretty risky, don’t you think? What if he was injured?”

“You have a point,” Colt conceded. “Okay, boy.” He opened the gate to the pasture. “That’s enough for today.”

Midnight didn’t need to be invited twice. He trotted quickly out of the arena and rejoined his mare.

“By the way, son, was that a new truck I saw parked by your trailer?”

“Yeah. I won the use of it this spring, but only picked it up on my way to Oregon. It handles like a dream. I’m thinking of buying out the lease when the year is up.”

His mother said nothing to that. She never asked him what he did with his rodeo winnings and he never offered any information. But however you looked at it, the new truck was a luxury. One he could hardly afford. But he was thirty-two years old and lived in a trailer that was almost as old as he was.

And that new truck was so damn sweet…

“You’ll join Dinah and me for breakfast?” She dug her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she gave him a sideways glance. “And then to church, after?”

“Sorry, Mom. There’s something else I need to do.” Leah was on his mind. He’d behaved badly yesterday. No changing the past. But there was one thing he could do today to prove that he wasn’t a total jerk.