The Cowboy's Texas Rose (The Dixons of Legacy Ranch 1)

“Any of you want to go into Fort Stockton to hit the store? Howie’s making a supply run,” she called out to the crew.

“Civilization. God yes,” Kelsey sighed.

Rose rummaged through her pack and wrangled loose one of the university vehicle keys, tossing it to Howie, whose face hung in surprise. He snagged it from the air as the students scurried back to them, a dark scowl filled with brooding, then stalked to the guys’ camper.

“Let me grab my wallet,” he groused.

“And Kelsey,” Rose continued, exhaling with relief. Hang out with him? Had he really just asked that? “Can I suggest you grab a few long-sleeve shirts from Walmart?”

Kelsey nodded, rubbing her arms again—which, after two days in the sun, were starting to look more lobster than bronze.

“Good. See you all this evening. Dinner’s at five thirty, so be there or be square, and then Mister Dixon has kindly offered to let us use his flat screen again for Temple of Doom.”

Rose went to her camper and rolled out its old awning as, blessedly, Howie pulled away with the other students in the van, taking his disconcerting presence with him, crunching the gravelly rock. Apparently, they had all wanted to go, and she was alone.

She dragged her camping chair beneath the shade, sighing a breath of relief at the unexpected solitude, and stripped out of her desert gear down to her tank top. Unlocking her door to grab a sweet tea and a sandwich from her mini fridge, she brought them back outside. Already the ground was dry, and once more, the world felt blazing hot. She was sweaty. And dusty from two days of lessons. They’d have to make a run to the public showers at the truck stop soon because she hated the feeling of this sweat and dust clogging her pores, and there was only so much sponge bathing she could take before she needed a solid shower.

Plopping into her camping chair, she held the cold can to her cheek, then her other, and then her neck as sweat from the can rolled down into her cleavage, leaving rivulets of relief upon her skin. She popped the top and took a swill, then wiped her neck with her bandana, when her phone buzzed with a text reminder. Ah, she’d forgotten about the text. She pulled it out.

Toby Dixon:Y’all all right? That was a pissy storm.

She smiled. His first text to her aside from the one confirming each other’s numbers late last night.

Rose:Affirmative, Captain. We were down at the site. Sheltered in place until it blew over.

Toby:Captain. I like the ring to it. You can call me that from now on.

Snorting, she worked her thumbs over the phone.

Rose:Don’t let it go to your head.

Instantly, a new reply popped in.

Toby:Girl, you know my happy camper’s got plenty of things to say to that.

She giggled again. Giggled! What the hell? Since when had she become some schoolgirl?

Toby:Came down to the campsite to check on things. Rain knocked down extension cords and ripped open a screen door. Blew some chairs across the ground. I put it all right but worried about y’all.

She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat that replaced the giggle. Guys never looked out for her. Her father hadn’t raised a weakling but had taught her to be a self-sufficient ranch girl. She was the all-knowing survivalist in her anthropology department who got stuff done and had never been one to clutch her pearls in fear. When men pandered to a cute woman by killing a spider, her friends had come to expect her to scoop it up in a cup and dump it outside without a jitter. It rubbed against her feminist grain, but it was…nice that Toby had been concerned and come to check on them.

Toby:You still there? Bueller?

Rose laughed.

Rose:Yup. Thanks for checking on us.

Toby:Saw y’all quit work a minute ago. You down at camp, or did you leave in the van?

Her heart jumped. Should she tell him she was alone? She hesitated, her thumbs hovering over her keys as she chewed her lip. If he knew she was alone, would he want to see her? Would he be less inhibited than he normally was around her students? Was that exciting? Or frightening? And yet her mutinous fingers replied, as if pushing her to reach out for him.

Rose:I’m at camp.

A speech bubble pulsed immediately.

Toby:So you coming to see this pot, or what?

Was this his way of saying he wanted to see her? Best play it off for a minute.