How to Wrangle a Cowboy (34 page)

Helping her grandmother duck through the barbed wire, Lindsey gave her a leg up into the saddle and led the horse home at a safe and sedate walk. The pleasure of riding seemed to banish Grace’s grief for the moment, and she beamed as she rocked with the gentle motion of her favorite horse.

“I hope I have love like you and Bud had someday,” Lindsey mused.

“You will.” Grace nodded emphatically. “Very soon.”

Lindsey laughed. “Are you psychic, Grandma? Do you see a tall, dark stranger in my future?”

Grace gave Lindsey an impish smile.

“Maybe.” She tilted her glasses down on her nose and gave Lindsey a probing look. “I think I see a tall, dark cowboy. What do you think of that?”

“I think it’s wishful thinking,” Lindsey said. “But it’s not my wish; it’s yours.”

“I think it’s both,” Grace said softly, and Lindsey knew that she was right.

Chapter 42

Shane stopped by the big house again a little later, just to see for himself that Grace was okay. He found her in Bud’s study, sitting in a wing chair near the fireplace. She looked up from a tattered paperback as he entered.

“Well, hey.” She lifted the book, so he could see it was one of Bud’s old Louis L’Amours. “I can see why you read these. This one’s awfully exciting. It’s—oh, Shane.” She covered her mistake with a smile. “I was just thinking what I’d say to Bud if I could, and then you came in, and…” She looked down at the book, then back up at Shane. “Well, I suppose I got confused.”

“That’s okay,” Shane said, though this kind of thing worried him.

“I’m just tired.” Grace set down her book and put a hand to her forehead. “I’ve been trying so hard to make sure Lindsey doesn’t think I’m a crazy old lady. I was worried, you see, that she’d put me in a home and forget about me.”

“Lindsey would never do that.” Shane lowered himself into the matching companion to the big wing chair where Grace sat. “She loves you, and besides, she’s a good person.”

“Aha!” Suddenly, Grace’s fragility was gone. He had the impression a mousetrap had been set and he’d snapped it. “You noticed that. I knew you’d figure it out.”

“I’ve figured out a lot of things about Lindsey.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Not the way you say it.”

“No, most of it’s good. But one thing I’ve figured out is that she’s not ready to jump into some big relationship, and neither am I. We’re friends. You’ll have to be happy with that.”

“I’m happy.”

“Are you?” He reached over and took her gnarled hand in his. “I know you miss Bud.”

“I do. But he’s still here with me every day. Especially in this room. I come here to sit with him and read his books.”

That was a little crazy, but Shane let it go. “You know I worry about you, right?”

She squeezed his hand with surprising strength. “I’m fine, Shane. You don’t have to worry.”

“How can I not? First you go on about your bucket list, and then you tell me you’re never going to get to Charleston. Next thing I know, you’re gone, and Lindsey finds you walking who knows where, in the dark.”

“Oh, Shane.” She chuckled. “I’m not planning on kicking that bucket anytime soon. I just saw an opportunity to scratch something off the list, and I took it. As for those clothes, well, I was right, wasn’t I? I won’t be going to Charleston.”

“But you meant something different.”

She leaned forward, scanning his face. “Did you think I meant I was going to
die
?” She laughed, then sobered when she saw how serious he was. “It’s not my time. I plan to stick around a while, make sure you and Lindsey don’t mess this up.”

“We’ll take care of things. You know I can handle the ranch, and Lindsey—”

“Lindsey can handle you?” She chuckled. “I doubt it. And besides, I’m not talking about the ranch. I’m talking about love.”

He sighed. “We need the help, I guess. She and I are as different as two people can be. Half the time she drives me crazy.”

“And the other half?”

He looked down at the floor, suddenly shy.

She squeezed his hand again. “Love comes to all of us sooner or later, and if you’re not ready when the time comes, you might miss your chance. I worry that will happen to you.” She gave his hand a teasing shake. “You’re a difficult man. Too independent.”

“If you have to give up your independence to be in love, maybe it’s not for me.”

“Was Bud independent?”

Shane thought a moment. There hadn’t been a man in the world surer of himself and more set in his ways than Bud Ward, but he’d always worried what would happen if Grace went first. Bud would have been lost without her.

Grace apparently didn’t need his answer; she could read his thoughts on his face.

“You see? He didn’t do anything my way because I made him do it. He did it because he wanted to. Because he loved me.”

“But you have to admit, most couples aren’t like you and Bud. You two were special.” He squeezed her hand and released it. “You still are.”

“
We
still are. Bud may be gone, but our love is alive as it ever was.” She gave him a smile. “It’s my legacy, and I’m handing it down to you and Lindsey. Bud would have approved.”

Shane didn’t answer. This was crazy talk, that’s all. Just crazy talk.

He glanced around the room. Books were interspersed with Western bronzes on the bookshelves, and the leather-topped desk held a green-shaded lamp and a vase of dried native grasses. The floor was warmed by a rag rug, its once-vivid reds and golds faded to a comfortable blur. Grace had braided it from cast-off woolens, working on it in the evenings while Bud read his books. The whole house was like that—a collaboration.

“I’d count myself lucky if I ever found a woman like you,” Shane said.

“Well, start counting, then.” Grace’s smile was triumphant, and he knew he’d walked right into another trap. “There’s one waiting for you right upstairs.”

He faked agony, clutching his head in his hands. “Have mercy, Grace. It’s something I have to work out myself, all right?”

Her smile faded and she grew serious. “All right. But you know Cody loves her.”

“And you know nothing’s more important to me than Cody’s happiness. Except maybe you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “But I’m not going to get married just to please the two of you.” He started to go, then turned. “You sure you’re not dwelling on that bucket too much?”

“Oh, no. Not at all.” She smiled sadly. “But it hurts, you know, when the one you love is gone.” She picked up her book, idly thumbing through the pages. “It’s a warm sort of pain, because it means you were lucky enough to find your perfect match.” She shot him a stern, schoolmarm look from under her brows, surprising him with its intensity. “You’ve found that person too. I know you’re resisting, but you and Lindsey are more alike, deep down, than you realize.” She smiled up at him. “Can I give you some advice?”

“Can I stop you?”

She chuckled, acknowledging the joke, then lowered her voice so he had to bend low to hear her. “Don’t let little things ruin the biggest thing that ever happens to you.” She got that faraway look again. “Nothing is bigger than love, and nothing matters more.”

She fell silent, and he could sense her drifting away from him, receding into the shadows of the past. He left her there with her memories, knowing she’d probably fall asleep in Bud’s chair. Lindsey would check on her, no doubt, and take her up to bed.

Meanwhile, he had a lot to think about.

Grace might be right. Lindsey could be the biggest thing that ever happened to him—but he’d once believed that about Tara. He needed to proceed with caution, no matter what Grace thought. He and Lindsey were friends for now, and that was all he could handle.

Friends with benefits.

He wiped that thought out of his mind. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t respectful. If he made love to Lindsey again, it would be because he loved her. He’d learned from his experience with Tara that the only right reason for sex was love.

Standing on the doorstep in the dark, he pondered his next move. Cody was at Tara’s parents’ again, and the cabin felt lonely without him. He could go home and tough it out, or he could track down Lindsey. Last he’d known, she was in the kitchen.

Maybe he ought to invite her over for a beer.

They were friends, after all.

* * *

Once Lindsey got the kitchen cleaned up, she headed straight to bed. As she climbed the back staircase, it felt like her legs had turned to lead, and she looked forward to dreaming away the night with no worries.

Opening the door to her room, ready to collapse on the bed, she stopped and let out a little scream.

The place had been ransacked. Her suitcase, which she kept minutely organized, was overturned on the floor, her clothes tossed this way and that.

She stood frozen, her hand over her mouth. Had William Ward been here after all? Was this some sick form of revenge?

She finally bent over and picked up a T-shirt.

Ugh. Slimy.

It was disgusting, but she couldn’t help laughing. This hadn’t been done by any vengeful human. This was dog slime.

“Stormy,” she muttered.

Cody had gone to visit his maternal grandparents, she remembered, and that meant Stormy was on his own. He must have gotten out somehow, or maybe Shane had brought him over.

In any case, he’d wreaked havoc on her possessions.

So much for relaxation. She gathered up her clothing, which had mostly just been played with. A T-shirt was torn, and there was a little dirt and a lot of dog drool on a few other items, but that was about it. Surveying the neatly packed suitcase, she realized the only thing missing was her special bra. Her special
red
bra.

Opening the front door, she hollered, “
Stormy!
” as loud as she could.

Right into the face of a very shocked Shane Lockhart.

“Oops,” she said.

Shane grinned. “Don’t bother calling him. He only comes when you
don’t
want him around.”

“Shoot.” She kicked at the doormat. “He stole something of mine, and I need to get it back.” She was blushing again, but who cared? She blushed so much around Shane Lockhart that it was starting to feel normal.

“Let me guess,” Shane said. “Underwear?”

“How did you know?”

“Psychic.” Shane grinned, enjoying her confusion. “Seriously, he does that all the time. He’ll bring it back eventually, but I gotta warn you. It probably won’t be in quite the condition it was when he took it.”

Lindsey felt her face get even hotter. “As long as he brings it back to
me.
”

* * *

Shane felt a little sorry for Lindsey. She’d had a rough day, full of ups and downs, and now Stormy and his mischief had made her blush again. He’d been thinking he was the only one who could do that, but apparently he had to share the honor with Cody’s dog.

Dang, she looked pretty, all flushed and shy and sweet. It made him want to take her in his arms and kiss that warm skin at her temple, the sweet apples of her cheeks, that sensitive, delicate mouth.

He thought of what Grace had said.

Don’t let little things ruin the biggest thing that ever happened to you.

Everything in him wanted to reach out to Lindsey. To touch her. To know her. And his reasons for resisting the urge were truly little things. She had some trust issues, and she was rich enough that a relationship with him would set tongues wagging. But those things didn’t matter. Not compared to the big things, like the fact that Cody loved her. The fact that
he
loved her—and wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels and gave her what he hoped was a friendly smile—not a lecherous one. He knew they lit up the world in bed. It was everyday life they needed to work on.

Maybe he should make a vow. He would not touch her. No sex—not until they got to know each other better and learned to get along as well out of bed as in it.

“Why don’t you come over for a beer?” he asked. “I was about to have one.”

That wasn’t quite true, but he
did
want a beer if he could drink it with Lindsey. His invitation had had nothing to do with that
friends with benefits
thought, or the fact that Cody was over at his grandparent’s for a sleepover tonight. Nothing at all. Because he wasn’t going to touch her.

She nodded, and he led the way through the path Cody had beaten through the cottonwoods. It didn’t matter if he held her hand. That wasn’t the kind of touch he’d outlawed—although it did send bullets of lust ricocheting through his body, pinging off his bones, his brain, his heart.

Motioning her toward the porch swing, he headed to the kitchen to open a couple bottles of Fat Tire. When he returned, she was perched on the swing with her knees hugged to her chest. Her hair, fastened back in a ponytail, flowed over her shoulder in a graceful S as she looked up at the moon.

Swinging her feet to the floor, she patted the seat beside her, but he pretended he’d missed the gesture and leaned against the porch rail.

“So how does it feel to own a ranch?” He lifted his bottle toward her in a toast before drinking.

“Pretty great, actually.” She returned his toast and downed a swig of beer. “I hope you don’t have a problem with me staying.”

“Frankly, I had a problem with you leaving.”

Their eyes met and the world seemed to stop turning. All he could think about was the slip of her lips on his, the glide of her tongue, the nip of her teeth. Then there was the smooth, soft spill of her hair in his hands, the way it skimmed through his fingers and gleamed in his hands. All he wanted in the world was to sit down beside her, touch her hair, her face, the soft spots that made her shiver.

Resisting her took more strength than digging a posthole through granite, but he remembered the vow he’d made to himself: no sex without love. If he succumbed to the urges that heated his blood, he’d be breaking his vow—or admitting his feelings for her were strong enough to change everything.