A Cowboy in Disguise (17 page)

Craig and Emma danced slowly over to them, held far apart by Emma’s rounded belly. “We don’t mean to interrupt,” Craig said, “but
Em
and I are going to get a hotel in town. She’s getting too tired to bounce back home on those dirt roads tonight. The baby isn’t up for that kind of ride at the moment. He’s kicking like crazy.”

“Did you let Dad know you aren’t riding back with us?” Scott asked.

“Sure did. But he said something about a poker game tonight, so I don’t know what he’s got figured for transportation back. We’ll work it out in the morning I guess.”

They walked away as the ballad ended. “So much for having chaperones with us. Does your family always disappear on you like that?” Alexandra asked.

“During this celebration? We usually do spend a little of it together. I hate to give up the dancing, but I think we’d better track down Dad before he disappears into that poker game.”

With mugs of hot buttered rum and apple cider in hand, they set off to locate Scott’s father in the crowd. As Alexandra held onto Scott’s arm, the expressions of the women around the bonfire weren’t lost on her. Scott led her through the throng of visitors while the females in their path either stepped closer hoping to bump into him, or batted their eyelashes from a distance like mock southern belles. Alexandra half expected one of them to swoon. Oblivious to the reaction he caused, Scott easily spotted his father leaning against the bumper of a truck, surrounded by a group of ranchers embroiled in a lively political debate.

“Scott,” he called out. “We’ve decided to head out to an all-night card game here in a few minutes.” He smiled at Alexandra. “You’d be a fool to join us. Just us old guys and we’re no fun at all.” He tossed the keys to the Suburban to Scott. “Drive careful.”

“You do realize Alex and I are leaving tomorrow, don’t you?” Scott asked suspiciously. The smell of a setup was in the air.

“Yup,” the older man acknowledged. “Enjoy the quiet time at the house while you can. And don’t worry about what I’ll do. I’ve got a ride lined up for Craig, Emma and me. Joe’s on his own, though. If you see him before you leave, I found his coffee thermos left behind in the rig. He might want it if he’s out in the snow for long.”

Scott said goodbye to his father and walked for a while in silence with Alexandra. He hated to break the magical spell this evening had cast, but someone had to say the words. “Things seem to be winding down some. Did we miss anything or would you rather head on back?”

Alexandra looked at her watch. “It really is getting late, Scott. Maybe we’d better head back to the ranch—though I sense a family conspiracy.” For the first time, she wondered exactly what Scott had told his father and brothers about her and grimaced. What they imagined about her relationship with Scott, she could only guess.

“The conspiracy theory crossed my mine, too. Dad means well.”

“I guess I must look pretty good compared to Mac Stevens.”

“Alex, you look good compared to everyone.”

Scott ran his fingers through the soft hair at her temples and gazed into her eyes. Then he opened the car door and helped her inside.

Chapter Ten

Night had long since fallen by the time Scott and Alexandra pulled up in front of the house. To Alexandra’s chagrin, she’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way and awoke with a start when the sound of the engine stopped. An empty thermos rolled back and forth on the floor between her feet. The last thing she remembered was how strange the coffee she’d been drinking had tasted. That Joe shouldn’t be allowed near a coffee pot, she thought as she pulled herself upright in the seat.

“You snore.”

She yawned and looked at Scott for a few seconds. “Are you always this obnoxious when you’re tired?” She leaned back against the door languidly and looked at him a little longer this time.

“You drool, too.”

She could see in the blurry dashboard lights that he was trying desperately not to laugh. “You’re rotten, you corporate cowboy, you.”

“Maybe. But mostly I’m hungry again.” He looked at her strangely. She seemed a little more than groggy, but maybe she was just truly that tired. After all, he’d never seen her completely exhausted before. He hopped out of the vehicle and walked around to open Alexandra’s door. “Wasn’t there some of Emma’s pie or something left?” he asked.

“
Dunno
. But lets eat lots of it,” she said. The winter air had fallen beyond crisp in the darkness. Alexandra rubbed her hands together and raced inside with her breath hanging frozen in the air around her. Scott ran ahead and stoked up the fire as she took off her coat and boots and sank down on the floor in front of it.

“It’ll be roaring again in just a few minutes,” he called down to her as he walked up the stairs.

Alexandra had known before what she was coming back to, but she was suddenly aware of how quiet the house was and how very far away they were from another living soul. She giggled to herself. This was a far cry from the nights when she sat alone in the office finishing up one report or another. No matter how abandoned the office got, she could still hear the hum of cars outside or office machines buzzing somewhere down the hall. That scene seemed just a shade pathetic, now that she thought about it. But this—this was different. She was far away on a ranch in pure isolation with Scott Falconer. The water cooler gang would never forget it if they ever caught wind of this, but she didn’t care.

She stretched out her hands high over her head and turned toward Scott as he came back down the stairs toward her. He had tossed aside his coat and sweater. The problem was, he hadn’t put on the T-shirt he held wadded up in his hand. Alexandra suspected her legs had gone weak even though she wasn’t standing up. What was wrong with her? She felt warm, content, and just a little bit silly.

“Are you okay, Alex?”

“I feel great,” she answered with a lopsided grin. Her gaze ran down his broad chest to his flat, hard stomach … “I’m not the crazy cat lady.”

“You didn’t have anything to drink, did you?” He narrowed his eyes at her. She wasn’t out-of-her-head drunk, but she certainly seemed relaxed in a slightly unnatural way.

“I just had a sip or two of your buttered rum a couple hours ago. Oh, and then the coffee on the way home.”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah. From that thermos Joe left in the Suburban. It was very thoughtful of him to leave us some coffee to help us stay awake on the drive home.”

“Thoughtful? Not Joe. I don’t think that was just coffee in that thermos, Alex. I imagine it was laced with something he brewed on his own.” No wonder his brother had run smack into the middle of a tree during last year’s night skiing adventure. He and his friends acted like complete idiots on an annual basis it seemed. “You’re not going blind or anything are you? I don’t know if D. W.
Songstram’s
insurance policy would cover that.”

“Well, that would explain a few things, wouldn’t it?” She smiled in a way she hoped was charming—it was hard to tell at the moment. “But no, my eyesight seems to be working perfectly. In fact, I’m having a really nice time using it.”

Scott pulled his T-shirt down over his head and sat beside her. “You seem like you’ll live.”

“I’m a grown woman, Scott. Granted, I don’t usually drink, but this won’t be the end of me. Just don’t tell David. I’m still thinking clearly, I think. I’m thinking. I …” She studied his bottom lip for a while. Why did he have to be so delicious and so off limits?

The coffee wouldn’t be the end of her, but it could very well be the end of him. Scott responded instantly to the look in Alexandra’s eyes.

He stood suddenly. “Want some pie?” Tea, cake, anything to get him out of the room and away from her for a few minutes …

She nodded eagerly as he walked into the kitchen. Emma’s peach pie was divine and she thought it best to get some food into her empty stomach. She didn’t know what Joe had added to that coffee, but she’d have to remember to be angry with him later. What if pregnant Emma had taken a cupful, thinking it was only coffee?

Scott returned and handed Alexandra a large piece of pie. “You know, you ought to make Joe load the hay wagons all by himself for a week after this,” she said.

Scott’s fingers brushed hers as he gave her the plate, and she nearly jumped back as if he had burned her. She watched him closely as he took a bite. It was no longer possible for her to look away from him. Her eyes simply wouldn’t obey.

With the tips of her fingers, she pulled a sticky slice of peach out of the crust and raised it to Scott’s lips. “Want to rehearse the presentation, Mr. Falconer?”

He tossed aside the sweet piece of fruit. “Ladies and gentleman, I’m very pleased to be here today …” His words trailed off as he kissed her wrist. “I want to make sure of something,” he whispered against her bare arm.

“Hmm,” she answered dreamily.

He stopped and suddenly grew serious. “I want to make sure that after the presentation is finished and we don’t have to focus on it anymore, that we really sit down and talk about us.”

“Us?” she asked. “I think that’s a good idea. We’ll talk then. For real. Talk. Act. Actions speak louder than words, I’ve heard.”

“Are you sure that isn’t just Joe’s java talking?”

She shook her head once and then nodded it again the other direction. The cobwebs inside just refused to clear somehow. As Scott held her, she smiled, turned around in his arms and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

“Guess that answers my question.”

Scott lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her room. “You’re not making this easy on my back, Alex. This sort of thing looks a whole lot easier in the movies.”

She sighed in her sleep—the only response she was capable of giving at that moment. Her thick, auburn hair tumbled across Scott’s arm and over her own face. He brushed it back before dropping her gently onto the bed. He removed her shoes, and then thought better of doing what it would take to make her any more comfortable than that. She’d just have to do without those yellow silk pajamas for a night.

•

Alexandra awoke some time past midnight with a vile taste in her mouth. She felt her way along the wall to the bathroom and found some sort of strong, blue mouthwash. Whatever fuel Joe had added to the coffee was nothing short of nauseating—especially to someone who wasn’t naturally a fan of such things in the first place. She smoothed back her hair and started to make her way back to bed when she noticed a faint glow from the living room lights hitting the staircase. Wiping the sleep from her blurry eyes, she started down the steps.

“Scott?” she called out. It was much too late for him to still be awake and too early for him to already be up. They had a flight to catch in just a few hours after all. But who else could possibly be there? She imagined a group of bank robbers straight out of the Old West taking over the main house to hide from the sheriff’s posse. It seemed like the right setting for a good western pillage and plunder. How much of that special coffee was still in her bloodstream? she wondered.

“It’s me. Just finishing up some work,” he yelled back.

“What are you doing up so late?” she asked with a breath of relief and walked the rest of the way downstairs.

Scott looked up from a pile of papers he’d scattered across the top of the coffee table. The television was on with its volume turned down low so as not to wake her, she presumed. “I wanted to go over the presentation numbers one more time, and I had some ranch things to look over after that,” he explained. “Did you sleep some of that out of your system?”

“I think so. I’d like to get my hands around your brother’s neck, though.”

“Join the club.”

She sat down beside him and picked up his stack of presentation notes. “I want to thank you for not taking advantage of me a couple hours ago.”

“Me? Take advantage of you? Nah.”

“You’re lucky. I would have had to hurl boxes of take-out food at your head.” She knew her mental clarity was returning, because her self-restraint and oddly enough, her old memories had come spinning back.

“Is that your weapon of choice?”

“Weapon of convenience was more like it.” She laughed. “Remember that scar on Duncan’s forehead?”

His sapphire eyes sparkled. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. I seem to recall a pillow flying my way. And snowballs.” He picked up one of his cowboy boots. I figure since we’re having our own private slumber party, I might as well get something done. And my boots need oiled badly.”