A Cowboy's Temptation

She shrugged, letting the argument go. She was used to being able to debate people under the table. But Seth kept showing he had more stamina than she did. She needed to conserve her strength.

“Nothing much to tell,” she answered. Her upbringing had been monotonous to say the least.

“What did your parents do there?”

“It was just my mom and me.”

“Divorced?”

She wished. “One-night stand. I doubt he even used his real name. My mother was a cocktail waitress.”

Seth’s eyes turned sympathetic. “That sounds like a tough way to grow up.”

“No worse than many other kids.”

Darby didn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on her childhood. She’d had a place to sleep, enough to eat and had gone to a decent school. She’d always felt a little out of step, especially in high school, when her classmates had decided that attracting boys was the only worthwhile endeavor. It was a relief to join the army, where miniskirts were never part of the dress code.

“Any sisters or brothers?” asked Seth.

“No. My mother got a lot more serious about birth control after I was born.” Darby had been told many times that she was a mistake that had ruined her mother’s life. “It was tough on her, being a single mom, always having to worry about a child. And I didn’t exactly fit her mold. We were very different people, Roxanne and me.”

“Different how?” His tone had gone unexpectedly soft.

“I was plain, practical, two feet firmly planted on the ground. She was beautiful, with a flair for the dramatic. I was punctual, good in the morning. She was action-seeking, great until three a.m. I liked order. She liked chaos.”

Unexpectedly, his hand came out to cover hers. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was a long time ago.” She couldn’t help glancing at their joined hands.

“Do you still see her?”

Darby knew she should break their touch, but there was something strangely comforting in the feel of his warm palm. It wasn’t arousing; simply strong and reassuring.

“She died last year,” said Darby. “But we hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Something about me going to college annoyed her, especially because the army paid for my education.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It did in her mind.” It certainly wasn’t Darby’s favorite memory. “She said I should pull my own weight in the world. Like the military was an easy path.”

“It was probably easier to cut you down than admit her own failings,” Seth speculated.

“Roxanne Carroll, a failure? No. She had it all figured out. It was the rest of the world that didn’t get it.” Darby paused. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

She straightened and pulled her hand out from under his. She wasn’t sure how the conversation had gotten so intimate. She liked to leave the past in the past.

The waitress appeared. “Are you ready to order?”

“I’d like a cheeseburger,” said Darby, deciding that drinking a martini on an empty stomach wasn’t going to turn out well. She didn’t need to make any more childhood confessions to Seth.

“Sounds good,” Seth echoed. “I’ll take one, too.”

With a quick check of their drinks, the woman left again.

“Sometimes it’s good to get things off your chest,” he offered.

“There’s nothing to get off my chest. It was all a long time ago. And it wasn’t all that terrible. It wasn’t traumatic. It was more, well, tedious than anything else.”

“Did you like the military?”

“I did.” She took a sip of the tart martini.

“But you took a discharge.”

“I decided I could do more from the outside.”

“More to help your country?”

“And those in it.”

There was a glint in his eye. “By teaching women to basket weave?”

She raised her glass in a mock toast. “Never underestimate the power of basket weaving. Sierra Hotel is about women doing what works for women on their very own terms.”

Seth raised his own glass. “That sounds very noble.”

She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her. If he was, she refused to care. She was proud of her accomplishments, and completely convinced of her need to protect what she’d built.

“It is noble,” she returned in an even tone, clinking her glass to his.

“I think I’m starting to like you, Darby.”

“That’s not a good idea, Seth.”

But their gazes had become locked together, and neither seemed inclined to look away.

“We have to go back tonight,” he said softly.

“I know we do.” There was no way she could stay in Denver and explore her simmering feelings of desire. She didn’t dare even acknowledge them, never mind encourage them.

“I want to stay,” he told her.

She slowly shook her head. “You can’t want that.” Neither of them could want anything of the sort.

There was a long pause between them.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

She determinedly stayed strong, refusing to let things soften between them. “What I’ve wanted all along. To win.”

* * *

Travis’s fistfight seemed to launch a wave of civil disobedience in Lyndon. The city’s pro-railway signs were vandalized. Then, in apparent retaliation, someone spray-painted black lines on the banner that Darby and Marta had stretched from lightpost to lightpost across Main Street.

A few days later, there was a march through the town square in support of the railway. It was followed by a bigger march in opposition. Blogs sprung up, the debate raging on either side. The rhetoric got nasty, insults flying.

The referendum campaign was well under way when the local newspaper published an editorial defending the railway and urging voters to support it in the referendum. That night, a trash-can fire was lit on their porch. Luckily, the fire department arrived before it could do any real damage.

Then, Saturday night, in a local bar, the two factions squared off in a brawl that spilled out into the streets and sent six people to the hospital with cuts and bruises.

Frustrated, and growing genuinely concerned for public safety, Seth got up early Sunday and drove his way up to Sierra Hotel.

He’d kept his distance from Darby since Denver—because the more he was around her, the less he wanted to fight with her. The better he liked her, the more he wanted to understand her perspective. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up in a conflict of interest—the town’s best interest versus his desire for Darby. Plus, if the public even suspected he had feelings for her, an already ugly situation could quickly spiral out of control.

He pulled into the parking lot of Sierra Hotel. There was a whole lot more activity around the property than the last time he’d been here. Six women were doing some kind of choreographed exercise in a meadow overlooking the lake. He was guessing it was Tai Chi. Another group of women was having breakfast on the deck at the side of the building, sitting in padded lounge furniture, engaging in what was obviously a spirited conversation.

Darby was on the deck. He stopped the truck, and she came to her feet, moving to the rail to watch the vehicle. When he exited the cab, and she recognized him, her brow furrowed. She quickly made her way to the staircase, trotting down to meet him.

When they drew close to each other on the driveway, she scanned his expression. “Something wrong?”

She was dressed in her typical worn khakis and a pair of practical, black sneakers. On top, she wore a blotchy, black-and-white tank. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, with a pair of aviator sunglasses perched on her nose.

She pulled the glasses up, sticking them into her hair as she gazed up at him. She looked breezy, unconcerned and ridiculously sexy. Her tank top fit snugly across her chest. She had amazing breasts, plump, round, perfectly shaped for the palm of his hand.

“Did you hear about the fight last night?” he asked without preamble.

“Travis again?” she asked.

“No, not Travis. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

She frowned. “Is the fight a secret?”

“It’s a complication. There were a lot of people involved, but there’s something I need to ask you.” He glanced at her front door. “Inside, maybe?”

“We can’t talk out here?”

He was trying to be circumspect, in light of her guests. He didn’t want to disrupt their vacations. Then again, what had happened last night was no secret.

“There was a brawl at the Hound and Hen. Six people wound up in the hospital.”

Her brow creased. “Please tell me it wasn’t about the railway.”

“It was about the railway,” he confirmed. “You must have heard about the vandalism and the fire.”

She nodded, looking more worried by the moment.

“I think we can agree this is getting out of hand.”