It Takes a Cowboy

“It’s still so risky.”

His smile was the dimpled, endearing one that had made her fall in love with him at the auction. “What’s life without a little adventure?”

That was what worried her, of course. “What makes you think you’ll find enough adventure with me?” she whispered.

His smile warmed, deepened, sending a quiver through her. “I have no doubt that I will. I want to help you raise your nephew, Blair. To build a family with you. I can’t imagine a greater—or more terrifying—challenge than that.”

Her eyes filled suddenly with tears. Scott had just revealed a dream she had secretly harbored for a long time but had almost given up. A family of her own. Making that commitment with Scott would be the ultimate gesture of trust in him. Did she dare risk that much?

“Maybe it’s a little too soon to talk about that,” she said, her voice tremulous.

His low laugh was shaky. “You think this isn’t scaring me spitless? But it’s right, Blair. I know it.”

He was kneeling so close to her chair, looking at her through his lashes, bare shoulders gleaming so invitingly. Blair had resisted as long as she could. She was only human, after all.

“Convince me,” she murmured, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He pulled her right out of the chair and into his arms, rolling her beneath him on the carpeted floor. And then he swiftly transformed her startled laughter into blissful sighs of pleasure.

They eventually made it to the bed, leaving tangled piles of clothing scattered on the floor. Sated and exhausted, they lay draped across each other, their breathing slowly returning to normal. “All the adventure I could possibly want,” Scott murmured.

Blair’s euphoria faded a bit. “For now, perhaps,” she whispered.

“For always, Blair,” he said firmly.

She lifted her head. “How could you possibly know that? You’ve spent so many years chasing excitement, taking off at a moment’s notice, avoiding any ties or commitments. What makes you think you won’t regret giving that up to take on the day-to-day responsibility of raising a family?”

Scott stared at the ceiling, his expression suddenly pensive. “Did you ever wonder why I spent so many years living that way? Trying everything that came along, regardless of how crazy or how risky it seemed to everyone else?”

“I just assumed it was your way of rebelling against your unhappy childhood.”

He shook his head, still looking somewhere into the past rather than at her. “I was trying to cram as many experiences as possible into however many years I was given to live. It was my way of living for my little brother, who didn’t have a chance to have any adventures of his own, and for my parents, who died so young and so unfairly. I didn’t want to die with anything untried, anything untasted, and I didn’t want to leave anyone to grieve for me as I grieved for them. And I didn’t want to risk loving someone that much again and being in danger of losing so much again.”

He looked at her then, his expression wry, his tone self-deprecating. “I came to this self-awareness during the night I spent trying to get back to you from Hawaii. I kept asking myself why I’d done such a stupid thing, why I’d felt the need to run just when I’d found something so precious...and that was the conclusion I came to. Brilliant, huh? And so damned original.”

“I didn’t know you lost a brother,” she said, her heart breaking at the expression on his face.

“He was six. His name was Phillip. Cutest kid you ever saw, all dimples and freckles and giggles. He was riding in the back seat of my parents’ car when a drunk driver hit them head-on after crossing the median. My family never had a chance. They had dropped me off at a friend’s house for a birthday party ten minutes before they died.”

“You must have been devastated.”

“I was enraged. At the drunk, at fate—at my grandparents, who kept telling me I had to hold my chin up and get on with my life. I didn’t know why they couldn’t understand that my life ended the night my family died.”

“Survivor guilt,” she murmured.

“That’s what a string of child shrinks called it at the time. Of course, I told them what they could do with their pithy analyses.”

She rested a hand against his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” he said, suddenly sounding a bit weary. “And I’ve been letting it control me for too long. I’m tired of running from the past, Blair. Tired of feeling sorry for myself—and guilty for being alive. I want to live my own life for a change, and make it mean something.”

“You think your life hasn’t had meaning?” She smiled tenderly at him. “You’re wrong, Scott. You are one of the kindest, most generous men I’ve ever met. You’ve given a home and a purpose to Carolyn and Margaret, who love living and working here. They’ve told me a great deal about you this weekend, while you’ve been spending so much time making my nephew happy. I know about the financial contributions you make to a great many charities. I know about the teenagers you hire during the summers, and the time you spend with them when you’re here. I know that you’re helping at least two of those boys with their college education, and that you’re looking into setting up a scholarship foundation for residents of Lost Springs. Yes, you’ve avoided personal ties, but there are so many people who depend on you. Who love you. And despite your wanderlust, you’ve never seriously let any of them down.”

Scott was frowning now. “Margaret and Carolyn told you that?”

“And Jake and his wife. And that sweet little man who cooks for your ranch hands, and the veterinarian who visited this morning while you took Jeffrey for a ride over the ranch in that cute two-seater airplane you keep here.”

“Damn,” he muttered, apparently uncomfortable that he’d been the topic of so many conversations.