Dream Chaser (11 page)

Sam’s tail thumped against the seat.

“I can just imagine what
Margaret
would say
if she saw
him.
Definitely eye-candy, cowboy style.
But
there’s no harm in looking, even if I don’t intend to touch.
Although now that Brad wa
s gone, who
was there to say she couldn’t? Jonathan Kingsley, Mr. Cowboy who wore boots on the beach, was definitely a temptation. To touch. Seriously.
But
I’m really
not
looking for a man.
I
still don’t even know who
I
am.

Except
he had found her.
Did that make it okay? And, was
that why she
couldn’t seem to control her heart? Wa
s that why she’d
barely been able to talk, had felt so uncomfortable when he’d pulled her closer—or was it that she had begun to enjoy it, but felt guilty for wanting it to last forever
?
It had been so long since she’d wanted to be touched, to be held by a man.
She wondered what it might b
e like to get to know him. A cowboy, that must be what he really was, since he wore
boots and a Stetson
and rode that big reddish-brown horse. Except he’d mentioned that seminar in St. Paul, which implied to her that he was an academic or maybe in some kind of business. Maybe he was a cowboy
and
an academic …
quite a different species from
Minneapolis
men in
three-piece suits
who drove
Mercedes.
She couldn’t remember if he’d worn his boots and hat when she’d seen him at Lake Harriet.

“Sam, what do you think? S
ince he lives around here,
when do you suppose
we
’ll
see him again?” Her heart thudded against her ribs. “I should have asked him
about his cabin.
”
But it had been the last thing on her mind while she’d been straddling that big saddle.

Sam whined, his tail banging against the back of the seat, as they drove down the road.

He was so serious when he mentioned
her moccasins and wild animals
.
She would
have to return
his kerchief. And maybe show him … but,
show him what? That she could hike without needing to be rescued? Her heart thudded again, an
image of his blue eyes above the planes and angles of his face
floating i
nto view.

“Remind me again, Sam. I’m not looking for a man
unless he’s, you know, someone steady an
d safe, maybe even boring. S
omething tells me
Mr. Jonathan Kingsley
isn’t any of tho
se things.” He didn’t seem safe and
highly
unlikely to fall into the
boring
category
.

Suzanna
drove back to the motel unable to stop thinking about
him
and how it felt
to be
surrounded by his arms as she slid around on that big saddle
, trying desperately not to fall off
.
If she had, would it have been into his arms? She couldn’t help smiling when she thought about that. She fanned her face. “Wow—he really is something, Sam. Why is it I didn’t notice that before?” Or maybe she had.

Chapter 6

Suzanna spent the afternoon
in Bozeman
buying hiking boots and o
utdoor
clothes.
She stopped at the university, spoke with a gentleman at the museum about animals indigenous to the mountains of Montana, and
realiz
ed how foolhardy she had been.
Jonathan was right
. Though bears were only now coming out of hibernation, she might have been in serious danger had she encountered a sow with cubs. And, after reading about the estimated population of mountain lion
s
, she shivered. Perhaps she
w
ould limit her hiking to the more well-traveled trails.

“You might want to keep that dog of yours on a leash,” the man had said. “Pets can get themselves and their owners into trouble if they try to take on a bear or a cougar.”

“But I thought he would protect me.”

“In the city, maybe, but not out here. He’d never stand a chance against a pack of coyotes.”

On her way back to the motel, she decided to
pay a visit to
the Circle K ranch. “
I need to return Jonathan’s kerchief
, Sam.
And,
I’m getting really tired of that motel.
Maybe he’ll let me stay in that little cabin Abigail mentioned.
”

She pulled into the entrance.
N
o ranch
hand
was at the fence, so she
drove until the road ended near a
log
house with a porch
that spanned
its entire front. She wondered if the logs had come from the ranch itself. A large yellow dog with a white muzzle raised his head and barked once at their approach before
resuming
his
relaxed pose
on the porch near a swing.
Suzanna left Sam in the car and
limp
ed
up
the steps.

Her tentative knock was answered by a man with flour on his hands
and
a towel wrapped around his ample middle. “Pardon me, miss.
You got me
in the middle of my bread-making.”

“I bake bread, too
.” S
he smiled at him
and looked
down at th
e paper Abigail had given her.
“I was wondering if Mr. Kingsley is here.”

“Just a minute.”

The man whose
blue eyes
she couldn’t keep out of her mind came to the door
.

Her face flushed
when one corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“
Come in
, Mrs. Wallace. Suzanna
.” He s
tood away from the door.
“How’s your ankle?”

“Much better, thank you.” She paused. “I have the
kerchief you used…to wrap it.” Where
was it
?
“In my car. Let me get it.
”
She did a quick little hop about-face, hoping the heat she felt in her cheeks wasn’t obvious as she climbed the stairs a second time.

“Thank
you. You’re still limping. Is that why you stopped by … just
to return this?” He
helped her up the porch steps, his hand under her elbow.

“
Yes, er
, no.
Let me start over. I wanted to return it, but there is something else.” Her heart was doing a jig in her chest.
Why am I reacting like this?

“Then come in.”

A
large river rock fireplace held center
stage in the living room. Shiny, wide-
planked floors were scattered with rugs of North American Indian design. The
tall
rancher ushered her
past a grand piano and
into an office
to the right of the larger room. He
offered her a chair
before shutting the door
.

“
What
else
is on your mind
?” He sat down behind his desk
and peered steadily at her.

“I w
as wondering if you got my note
about your cabin,” she began. The book-lined room was obviously in daily use. The titles nearest her chair
told her
that
more than ranching occupied the man’s time
. Maybe he really is a professor
.
I have to ask
…
if only to tell Margaret.
“May I ask what you do …
I mean
,
for a living?”
And if he’s a teacher, I’m going to pass out.

“I run this cattle ranch.”

She bit her lip. “All these books. They seem to be about more than … well,
other than ranching
. Are they related to those seminars in St. Paul?
”

“I
do
some
consulting
i
n agricultural trade—
i
nternational, mostly.”
He was silent for a moment, the hint of a question in his expression. “Y
ou?
” His eyes seemed to bore into her even as he leaned back in his chair.

“Oh. I’m just a housewife …
actually, a
nd a recent
traveler—domestic,
mostly,” s
he
said
,
hop
ing to put herself at ease.

He
moved a stack of papers to one side,
and retriev
ed
her note from a center drawer
. “About your
inquiry
, yes, I got it.”
He continued to look at it, as if re-reading it.

Maybe I
should have changed clothes
.
Her jeans had wear spots on the knees. She was still wearing
the
moccasins
he had warned her against. At least her W
estern-style shirt
was
new. She pulled her hair back
. Several
errant
wisps brushed her cheeks
, and she raised a hand to shade her
eyes
from
the afternoon sun slanting through the window.

“I
s it available
to
rent
?” S
he fidgeted in her chair.
“
I don’
t know how long I’ll be staying. My ankle isn’t quite up to another long hike yet,
but I really am desperate to find a place
so I can explore around here
, and Abigail said you might be willing
—
”

He
looked up abruptly and frowned.
“Abigail
said
that?” He swiveled in his chair to look outside at three men who were putting their horses in the near corral.

“You weren’t expecting her to say that?”

“It wasn’t something I asked her to do.” He turned back to face her after
star
ing at the note again
and cleared his throat
.
“M
r
s. Wallace
.
”

“Suzanna.”
She sat up straighter in the chair. “We’re beach neighbors, remember?”
Slow down, heart, so I can catch my breath.

He seemed not to acknowledge her attempt at friendliness.
“That cabin really isn’t in shape to rent. It hasn’t been used in quite a while. I’m sure you wouldn’t
like
it.”
He
began to stan
d
up as if
to usher her out.
“I recall inviting you to visit if you ever came out this way. If you need a place for a couple of days, you’re welcome to stay here. My house is big enough.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” She shook her head.
No way. I don’t dare.

He sat back down. “Why not? You could have your own rooms at the far end of the children’s wing upstairs.” His eyes seemed to become more intensely blue. “You’d never know I was around—since my … space … is in the other direction.” He paused, his voice slower. “It’s what we do around here … in the west … open our homes to travelers.” His mouth, whose lips had previously thinned in seeming displeasure, curved up, fuller again, decidedly kissable. Her thoughts rioted against her plan to be totally businesslike.

“I appreciate the offer, but I need a place for longer than a few days. I can’t put you out like that.” The words of the librarian echoed in her head. No way was she going to give people the impression she was after him.
She
remained in the chair, looking first at her hands then back at him. He seemed not to have moved a muscle, other than his fingers, which were slowly pressing the folds out of her note
.

“Besides, I have a dog and he sleeps next to my bed. You have a dog, too. I just don’t think it would work … for me to stay here, in your house.”

She looked down at her lap and realized her nerves were showing in the way her fingers were twisting the kerchief, his kerchief. If she couldn’t stay in the cabin, her last hope, it
meant she would have to stay in the motel.
An impossible outcome. She had to convince him.
She refolded the kerchief and handed it to him, now clean and no longer smelling of the liniment he had rubbed into her ankle. The touch of his fingers when they grazed her palm sent shivers through her, identical to the effect of his voice.
No way can I stay here. Just knowing he’s down the hall will keep me up nights.

She tried again when he stood and opened the office door. “Couldn’t
you
just
show it to me?
I’m sure it can’t be any worse than that dreadful motel where I’ve been stuck for
almost
a week.”
As she exited the office, she reached out and touched his arm
. He
back
ed
up. She licked her lips as if to say something else, and
locked her eyes
on his blue ones before he reached
behind her
to shut the
office
door.

He shook his head aga
in. “I doubt that. Besides, the
cabin’s wel
l away from things. I’m sure you wouldn’
t be
happy there. N
o phone, no TV, no maid service, and you’d be strictly on your own. You couldn’t call on my hands
for help if something happened, if the stove didn’t work or
whatever.”

“
But, that’s exactly what I’m looking for,
a place with privacy. If it’s all by
itself, that’s what I want
,
for a couple of weeks, maybe longer, depending on my ankle … I’m really not sure how long I’ll stay
.”
But I want to. It’s so peaceful here.
She paused before plunging ahead, pushing her hair behind one ear. “I’m happy to
pay you for the privilege. And
I promise not to ask you for any help, just a chance to stay there for a few
… a while
.”
She pulled out her checkbook
.
“What do you want for it?” She dared him to look away.

“You haven’t even seen it.
”
His brows knitted.

“I’m sure it will be fine,
”
she insisted. He wasn’t
going to
make
her
stay in
that motel
another night, or endure another
midnight
beer
fest in a nearby room
that
kept
her
awake
until dawn
. She stopped
walking
, unwilling to leave the
house
without an answer from him.
The right answer.

He turned back toward her and seemed to sigh.
“I suppose there’s no harm showing it to you.” He opened the outer door and
his voice rose.
“
Nate
, I’m going to the old
cabin
. If that call from Jamie comes through, find out when I can get back to him.
This shouldn’t take long.
”

From the
direction of the
kitchen, Suzanna heard a faint, “Yes, boss.”

“Shall we take your car?” He slid into the passenger seat before she could object, and was greeted effusively by Sam, who tried to lick his ear. “Down, dog,” the man
said firmly
.