Rocky Mountain Cowboy (12 page)

She was a good rider. She
’d obviously kept in practice, and it showed. The trail had been steep so far, and she’d managed to keep the little mare on the narrow path with effortless ease.

All morning, he’d been completely engrossed in thought about her. Being Tom’s daughter made her important to him, but in the time she’d been here, she had become special in her own right. Despite the fact that she obviously was not used to the heavy labor of ranching, she’d been a real trooper. She tried so hard. She wasn’t afraid to get dirty, and she never gave up, not even on that battered old truck she’d nicknamed
The Monster
.

It still made him chuckle to remember her trying to shift those stiff gears. So she’d almost run him over. He’d managed to jump out of the way in time, and she had been all over him afterwards, horrified. He’d volunteer to be almost flattened beneath the truck again just to have her run her hands over him like she had.

He couldn’t kid himself. He’d been instantly and intensely attracted to her from the moment she’d turned to greet him the day of the funeral. She was a natural beauty. She had a great body and an arresting face. Her big chocolate brown eyes, framed by those thick black lashes, sucked him in every time she looked at him. And her lips— so soft and full and infinitely kissable. He really wanted to devour that mouth and feel her tongue intertwine with his. He almost had in the barn.

And that episode in the bathroom a few nights ago.... Damn, that had left him reeling afterwards! She thought he hadn’t seen her looking at him so intently, her eyes intimately wandering
all over him. It had taken hours to get to sleep that night! Images of it being her hands roaming over him had kept him awake and aroused half the night. Even now the memory of their intimate encounter in the bathroom made his groin tighten. Shifting in the saddle, he tried to ease his discomfort. He needed to stop thinking of her this way, but damn, she continued to tempt him!

He’d
been thinking about asking her on a real date; dinner and a movie. She needed a break. He needed one. He wanted to enjoy her company doing something besides work. He wanted to find out more about her as a person, and just maybe she’d let him drive that fancy ’Vette, though that was not the primary reason he wanted to go out with her.

By late morning, they reached their destination. On the top of the bluff that overlooked the wide mountain valley below, they wheeled their horses to a stop. The A-frame log cabin
that served as their line cabin, their base of operations in these high mountain pastures, sat at one end of the alpine park, just in front of the dense thicket of trees that fringed it. Tom Fletcher had been granted permission to graze his cattle on this section of federal BLM land thirty years ago. The lease was renewed regularly, a nominal fee paid quarterly, and the government had allowed Tom to build a simple line cabin on it in which to house his hired hands when they tended his cattle during the summer grazing months.

Jenny wondered if Hawk remembered the time the three of them had come up here to brand summer born calves. She dug a couple of chocolate chip cookies out of her saddle bag, handed him one and asked.

He ate half the cookie in one big bite. The look on his face was pure pleasure. “Wasn’t that the summer we both got in trouble for taking off and exploring that old mine up by Cottonwood?”

Jenny brushed crumbs off herself and laughed. “Oh yeah, I remember that. Dad was really mad at me for going into that dangerous old mine shaft.”

“He wasn’t too happy with me, either. He figured I should have had more sense than to take you there. I guess I should have. You were only eleven.”

“Is that old mine still there?”

“Yeah.” He flashed her a wickedly mischievous grin. “Do you think we ought to explore it again?”

“Definitely.” She grinned back. “I think we’re old enough now.”

Hawk laughed, finished his cookie, took a drink of water from his canteen, then offered her a drink. While she quenched her thirst, he leaned forward in the saddle, crossed his forearms over his pommel and gazed at all the cattle grazing around the cabin below him. There were hundreds of them, cows, heifers, yearlings, and a sizeable bunch of spring and summer born calves.

“Makes you feel good to look down on all those cows, doesn’t it? It never fails to give me a rush when I see them like this— all spread out, big and healthy after grazing on all that sweet summer grass.”

Jenny heard the pride in his voice and felt the same way as she stared down at the herd below. It had been a long time since she had looked out over a herd of cows, but if she stayed, these animals would be her livelihood as much as they were his. Filling her lungs with a deep breath of the pine-scented air, she realized she could live like this every day if she stayed and became Hawk’s full-time partner. Oh, on a day like this that was so very tempting!

“Let’s go have lunch,” Hawk said, looking at her and smiling. “Those cookies were good, but I’m hungry and the food is hot today. No bag lunch.”

Jenny agreed wholeheartedly. Maybe it was the altitude or the day or him, but she was hungry for the first time in weeks— hungry and even a little bit happy.

After tethering their horses in the shade, Hawk went in search of his lead ranch hand, while Jenny went into the cabin to reacquaint herself with it again.

The cabin wasn’t much, just the bare necessities— somewhere to sleep and eat. The water came from a natural well and was used in the cabin’s kitchen by an old fashioned hand pump. The cooking stove was fired by wood, as was the potbellied one in the main room that heated the cabin. There was no electricity, just kerosene and propane lanterns, and the only bathroom was an outhouse. Definitely not luxury accommodations. But, as a child, Jenny had always thought it the most grand adventure coming up here with her father.

Wandering into the small functional kitchen,
she saw a big stew pot was simmering on the stove top. It smelled fantastic. She peaked under the lid to discover it was chicken and dumplings. Her stomach growled in reaction to the appetizing smell. Someone working up here was a good cook.

In the living room, she took off her hat and tossed it on the old plaid sofa. Two over-stuffed unmatched armchairs
sat on either side. A rocker and a straight-backed wooden chair were also arranged in the grouping of old furniture that made a circle around the pot-bellied stove in the center of the room. The wood plank floors were covered here and there with thick, colorfully braided rugs. An old and scarred round dining table that could seat up to eight was located in the open area between the kitchen and the living room.

Under the high beamed roof overhead, there was a big loft where the ranch hands slept in sleeping bags and old mattresses thrown on the floor. A simple spiral staircase led up to the loft.

To the side of the cabin, there was a lone bedroom with a tarnished brass double bed and an old nightstand with a kerosene lamp sitting on it. A thickly stuffed quilt covered the bed. An unmatched three-drawer chest and a spindle-back chair were the only other furniture in the room. It was all very Spartan, but very homey and cozy.

Jenny’s mom had never been up to the line cabin in all the years she had been married to Tom. So for Jenny, it had been her special retreat with her father. She had slept with him in the bed as a little girl, then on
a pullout cot when she had gotten older.

She went over to the brass bed, dropped backwards onto it, and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost immediately.

That was how Hawk found her forty five minutes later— sound asleep, her hair fanned out around her head, one hand buried in the rich auburn curls, and the other lying on her stomach. She reminded him of a fairy tale princess.

He wanted to let her sleep, but he had to wake her for lunch. And there was only one way he wanted to do that. He’d been thinking about it since he’d almost kissed her this morning in the barn. He might not be a prince, but she sure as hell was a sleeping
beauty. Those inviting, slightly parted pink lips were driving him crazy. He’d been dying for a real taste of them for days.

Bending over her,
he braced his hands on either side of her head, then slowly dropped his head to her mouth. She murmured something unintelligible and drowsy, and he deepened the kiss, unable to resist the further parting of her lips. His mouth moved over hers, covering it, the tip of his tongue probing the seam, then licking her full bottom lip. God, she had the softest, sweetest mouth; silky, warm, luscious!

“Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered.

“Hawk....” Her eyes fluttered open, stared at him dreamily, then closed again. She wasn’t objecting. Far from it, she appeared to be waiting for more.

Her breathy utterance of his name drove him crazy. He couldn’t deny himself one more sweet taste. His lips pressed more urgently against hers, taking, giving, while hers clung sweetly, innocently
. Desire slammed through him— achingly intense.

He forced himself to stop, to resolutely push away. “Lunch is served, princess.” He smiled down at her as her eyes opened again—
wider but still dreamy. He left while he still could.

When she came to the dining table, all the men stood. Hawk pulled out a chair for her, seating her next to him.

“Awake yet?” he whispered into her ear as she sat down. Her flawlessly beautiful skin flushed pink, and he knew she was recalling his kiss. Her reaction pleased him.

“Daddy used to call me princess,” she murmured absently.

Hawk caught her hand under the table and squeezed it, then pulled the stew pot forward and gave her the ladle. While she scooped up some of the mouth-watering contents, he set the bread before her, which she politely took and passed on. After that, each of the four men eagerly took their turns. By the time they were done, there wasn’t anything left in the pot. As they ate, Hawk introduced each of the men to her again. By now she recognized all of them.

Hank Tate was the oldest and sat directly across from her.
Tall and rangy, he was the lead man, and the boss when Hawk wasn’t around. He’d been working on the Bar F/Bar L for five years. A pleasant man in his mid-forties, he seemed easy-going and affable.

Scott Richards was seated next to Hawk. He had to lean forward and tilt his head around his friend to greet her. Jenny asked him how the wedding plans were coming.

“Well, the nice thing about being a guy, is that all you have to do is make a couple of decisions, get the hell out of the way, and be sure to show up on time for the ceremony,” he told her, laughing.

“You
haven’t got much freedom left, pal,” Hank reminded him with a sympathetic slap on the shoulder.

“Scott is helping us round up the herd and drive it home,” Hawk supplied. “Then we’re going to his place to get his stock all settled for winter, while he goes on his honeymoon.”

“Where are you and Becky going on your honeymoon?”

“To your neck of the woods,” Scott answered.

“Hollywood?”

“Yeah, and the beaches, Disneyland, San Diego.”

“Then you have to come to see me, and I’ll get you a personal tour of the studios.”

“You’ll be back by then?”

Hawk stopped eating and turned to look at her.

“I don’t know, but I’ll make sure you and Becky get that tour. The personal tours are so much more fascinating than the group ones.”

“Becky will like that.”

The man on her other side turned to her. Steve Walker was younger than the others, sandy-haired and handsome. He’d
been hired at the start of summer to keep an eye on the cows being pastured on the public graze land located in the mountains above the ranch A horse wrangler by trade, he had been stationed up here with the cows for most of the past three months, occasionally coming down to assist with the haying. He seemed like a likeable fellow, although Jenny sensed some tension between Hawk and him. Then, of course, Hawk had told her that he suspected Steve of secretly working for Brad Caldwell.

“Working and living in Hollywood must be pretty exciting— kinda different from this,” he commented after swallowing a mouthful of chicken and dumplings.

“I work in Hollywood. I don’t actually live there,” Jenny answered. “My job is fun. I design the clothes the actors and actresses wear in the movies. I’m a costume designer.” They asked her what movies she had worked on, and she named a few. They all looked so impressed, she laughed. “It’s really not that glamorous, just a lot of hard work to meet deadlines and adjust to changes.”

After that there were a lot of questions and comments on actors and actresses she might have met or worked with. She had worked with many of the ones the men mentioned, but she didn’t really socialize with them. She told them she was just a simple working girl, not a celebrity
, although she had won numerous awards for her designs. Hawk added that last bit of information, having heard about every one of them from her proud father.

As interesting as her life sounded, he
wondered if life on a remote cattle ranch in the mountains of Central Colorado was going to be as appealing as a life in glamorous Hollywood. Her world and his were so very far apart, in lifestyle as well as distance. What chance was there of luring her out of hers, into his? Not for the first time, he wondered if Tom hadn’t left him with an insurmountable task.