It Takes a Cowboy

“I’m sure he would be delighted to come anytime he’s invited.”

“I’m talking about a regular basis, Blair. I’d like both you and Jeffrey to start thinking of the ranch as a second home.”

She moistened her lips. “That’s very gracious of you,” she said, a bit lamely.

He scowled and dropped his arm, turning to face her with his chin tucked and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that, Blair. I think we’re beyond that now.”

“Don’t do what?” she asked, startled by the sudden, rare flash of anger in his voice and in his expression.

“Don’t treat me like a generous stranger. I’m not extending a gracious invitation, I’m asking you to consider living part time with me. And if that shocks you—and I can see by your expression that it does—wait until you hear about the more permanent arrangement I have in mind.”

She clutched the fence rail in front of her, her knuckles white. “You’re not...you aren’t...”

“Proposing?” He smiled again, though it was a crooked smile. “No. Not until you trust me enough to hear it without losing all the color in your face. I guess you could say I’m just preparing you for the eventuality.”

She swallowed, asking herself what she would have said if he had proposed then. Wondering what she would say when—if—he ever did.

“I love you, Blair,” Scott murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek, his momentary anger replaced by a rather sympathetic amusement. “And I will teach you to trust me that much—no matter how long it takes.”

Or until he grew tired of trying and was off on another of his adventures? Blair realized how far she still had to go in her trust when that unwelcome question crossed her mind.

“Scott. A

unt Blair. Watch me canter,” Jeffrey called, bringing the disturbing conversation to an end.

The questions continued to echo in Blair’s mind as she turned to admire her nephew’s new equestrian skills. Unfortunately, she had no answers.

*

SCOTT CAME to her room that evening after everyone else had gone to bed. She was sitting in a wonderful old rocking chair, a hand-crocheted afghan across her lap, looking out the window at the glittering Wyoming sky, when he suddenly appeared in front of her like a spirit out of the shadows.

“You really are very good at slipping in and out of bedrooms, aren’t you, cowboy?” she murmured, remembering something he had said during that weekend at his cabin—the first weekend they had spent together.

“There’s only one bedroom I want to slip into these days,” he murmured, smiling at her in the moonlight. “Yours.”

“Don’t you think you should wait for an invitation?”

“If you want me to leave, just say the word and I’m gone.”

She studied him standing there, so lean and beautiful in the soft light filtering in from outside. He wore nothing but a pair of jeans, and it was all she could do not to run her hands over every delicious inch of exposed skin. She was thinking of doing just that when she said, “No, don’t go yet.”

He knelt beside her chair. “Do you know how beautiful you look sitting here in the moonlight?”

She smiled and reached out to smooth his hair. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Catching her hand, he pulled it to his lips. “Do you know how difficult it’s been for me to spend the past three weeks with you and not make love to you?”

Her hand trembled. “I know exactly how difficult it has been.”

“I love you, Blair.”

She let out a soft sigh of surrender. “I love you, too. But you know that, don’t you?”

He kissed her knuckles. “I knew. I just wasn’t sure you did.”

“Arrogant cowboy.”

“Not arrogant. Desperate. I’ve waited a long time to find you. I can’t imagine living without you now.”