Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

But she’d known better than to go there.

At some point in the flight she’d remembered Storm Cloud. It had been irresponsible on her part, leaving the horse with Sky. At least the black gelding was in good hands. But she’d only borrowed him from the Prescott Ranch. She would need to send money for his keep and instructions for his return.

Her grandparents’ home outside Baltimore had been even gloomier than Lauren remembered. Much of the land had been sold to real estate developers. Even her grandfather’s horses and stables were gone. Her grandparents, both in their eighties, rarely left the house or even looked past the heavy drapes that kept out much of the light.

The kindly servants Lauren remembered from her teens had been replaced by brusque strangers who clearly viewed her as an intruder. Concerned, Lauren had contacted the family lawyers, who’d confirmed that on her grandparents’ deaths the remainder of the estate would be sold to pay its debts,

leaving next to nothing for her. The only surprise had been how little she cared.

After three days of filling out applications for jobs she didn’t want, she’d driven to see Mike’s parents in North Carolina. Arriving at their home, she’d learned from the gardener that they’d left on a cruise.

Just one place remained for her to visit. After buying a bouquet of blue Dutch irises and lilies of the valley from a florist, she’d gone to the cemetery to leave the flowers on Mike’s grave.

The last time she’d been to the place was the day of the wrenching, emotional funeral. A year later, climbing out of her car, she’d braced herself for a surge of love and grief, along with newfound anger for all the people Mike’s suicide had hurt. But as she kissed the bouquet and laid it at the base of the granite headstone, all she’d felt was a surprising sense of quiet, calm acceptance.

She’d moved on.

And she didn’t belong here anymore.

Driving back to Maryland, visions of open space, golden grass, cattle, horses, and a tall, lean cowboy with coal black hair and riveting blue eyes had flooded her memory. Lauren wasn’t blind to the risks. Sky was a loner. The odds of a happy future with such a man were slim to none. Reaching out to him would mean setting herself up for heartbreak. But if there was a chance for them, any chance at all, she couldn’t walk away until she knew for sure.

Two days later she was on a flight back to Texas.

The distant sound of approaching hoof beats roused Lauren from her musings. If it was Sky, he’d wasted no time getting here. Heart pounding, she rose and walked to the top of the porch steps. She’d told him to come to the house. From there she could show him the way to the stables.

When the syndicate had bought the ranch from Garn Prescott, they’d agreed to leave the main house, with its surrounding lawns and gardens, for the Prescott family. A new house for the ranch manager, along with an office and some outbuildings, had been built some distance away, on the far side of the original barns and stables. The arrangement gave the Prescotts the privacy they needed to live their lives undisturbed, as well as shared use of the stables and other facilities. Since Lauren had worked in the ranch office, she was familiar with the layout of the place, and most of the employees knew her. Coming onto the property in the middle of the night, Sky would need her with him.

Now she could see him riding into the moonlit yard. He slowed the horse to a walk, then swung toward the house as he saw her. Checking the urge to run to him, Lauren forced herself to wait. Time seemed to crawl before he reined up at the foot of the steps.

“Where are the stables?” he asked as if speaking to a stranger.

She felt the chill in his voice. “Through those trees, maybe a couple hundred yards. I’ll need to go with you. Otherwise you could end up getting arrested or even shot.”

“I thought of that. Come on.” He leaned out of the saddle, offering an arm. Lauren clasped it, feeling the steel of his muscles as he pulled her onto the horse. She settled herself behind the cantle, resting her hands against his ribs.

She fought the urge to melt into the warm, solid feel of him, to fill her senses with the smell of sweat and dust, sagebrush and horses, blending in a manly fragrance that was uniquely Sky—an aroma she’d come to love. It was all she could do to keep from wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him close. But this wasn’t the time. His body was rigid between her hands, his manner cold and formal.

He probably thought she was playing some kind of game with him—disappearing for days, then calling him in the middle of the night just to see if he’d come running. If that was what he believed, Lauren could hardly blame him. Sky was a proud man. If he thought he was being manipulated, he wouldn’t take it well.

She could apologize. But would an apology be enough?

He cleared his throat. “You said you needed to talk. So talk.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me where I’ve been?”

“Only if you want to tell me.” The chill in his voice was like being jabbed with an icicle. It was too much.

“Stop it, Sky Fletcher!” Lauren punched his ribs, hard enough to make him grunt with pain. The horse snorted and danced beneath them. He soothed the big gelding with a touch.

“That was uncalled for, Lauren,” he said.

“Was it? So why are you treating me like a bad case of the chicken pox?”

He halted the horse outside the range of the security lights on the barn. “Because I’ve been worried sick about you, dammit, that’s why! One night you’re all over me, and the next you’re gone without a word. What if you’d been in some kind of hellish accident? Who’d know enough to tell me about it?” He shook his head. “And then you show up like nothing’s happened, you call me in the middle of the night and say you need to talk. If this wasn’t the twenty-first century, I’d turn you over my knee and spank you!”

“That might be fun. I’d like to see you try it.”

“Don’t, Lauren. You’re driving me crazy, and this isn’t a joke.” He exhaled forcibly, the tension whooshing out of him. “Let’s put this horse away. If you want to talk, we can do it on the way back to your car.”