A Cowboy to Marry (3 page)

Their eyes locked, providing another wave of unbidden heat between them. “You intimated to him that you and I are having a fling.”

“No.” Holden savored her nearness, and the pleasure that came from being alone with her, in a way they hadn't been for months now.

He turned and wandered toward the cozy family room in the back of the house. “I said we are involved,” he corrected, as he passed another row of photos, of Percy and Libby together, involved in all the outdoor activities Percy loved.

Reminded that Libby was once his best friend's wife, Holden shoved his hands in the pockets of his wool trousers and drawled, “I just didn't say
how
we are involved.”

She stepped out of her heels and stood holding the sexy shoes, as if she wanted to lob them at his head. “Same difference,” she snapped.

Holden let his glance drift down her spectacular pantyhose-clad legs to her toes. “Really?” His gaze returned slowly and deliberately to her face, pausing on her lips, before moving to her long-lashed green eyes. Ignoring the threat of the stilettos, he leaned closer still and dropped his tone to a husky whisper. “'Cause I don't remember anything sexual or romantic happening between us.”

Libby sniffed and sent him a quelling look. “Only because you came to your senses and put a stop to it.”

Wanting something wasn't the same as
taking
it. Particularly when they both had been lost and hurting, searching for any way to end the pain.

As it turned out, Holden recalled soberly, neither of them could have lived with that.

Curtailing his rising emotions, he shrugged. “You said it was for the best.”

Libby kept her distance, eventually drifting over toward the fireplace, where she pivoted, her back to the mantel. Raking her teeth across her lower lip, she admitted quietly, “And that was true. I wasn't myself that night.”

For a long time, Holden had let himself believe that.

Now, cognizant of the tension that charged the air between them, he studied the mixture of regret and longing in her eyes. Found himself theorizing before he could stop himself, “And maybe you were yourself, Libby. Maybe your instincts
were
right.”

Another shadow crossed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

Holden looked at the gold broken-heart pendant shimmering against the delicate ivory of her skin. Lower still, he could see the hint of cleavage in the V neckline of her black cashmere sweater dress. “That if I hadn't been such a gentleman… If I had allowed us to follow through on our urges…”

Maybe she wouldn't have held him at arm's length all this time. Maybe they could have shrugged off that flare of desire and gone back to being friends. Kissed and found out there was no chemistry between them, after all. Or argued and cleared the tension that way.

Instead, they had been adult about it. Distant. Careful. Unerringly polite. And tense as could be.

Libby studied him with a brooding look. “I know you're trying to be gallant here, Holden. But we have to face facts. I was the one who wanted to kiss you that night. Not the other way around.”

Noting the raw vulnerability in her expression, Holden felt his heart go out to her all over again.

He realized it was his turn to be honest. No matter how
much it complicated their lives. “You're wrong about that, Libby,” he told her hoarsely.

His gaze lingered on her, as he paused to let his words sink in. “I would have given everything I had that night to see where that burst of physical attraction would lead.”

She shook her head. “But we couldn't because I was a wreck. In some ways I still am a wreck.”

Not sure what she meant, Holden stared at her.

Libby lifted her hands. “It's this house, Holden. The dealership. I can't be either place without feeling like Percy's wife.” Her voice caught and her lower lip trembled. “That's the real reason I can't stay here in Laramie. If I do, I'll never be able to move on.”

As Holden looked around, he saw what she meant.

The home was brimming with signs of Percy and his folks, and the generations who had lived here before that.

It was clearly a Lowell domain.

Holden recalled that Libby had suggested a few small changes after they had taken over the residence, when Percy was still alive. All had been gently but firmly refused. Libby, in her usual genial way, had stopped bringing up the subject. And although she could have redecorated since Percy died, she hadn't. Probably because it would have felt disloyal, an insult to his memory, or disrespectful to his wishes.

No wonder she felt trapped, Holden mused sympathetically. He edged closer. “You want to get married again?”

Determination stiffened her slender frame. “Of course. I want to fall in love. I want to have kids. I want to feel like everything good is still ahead of me.”

Everything she would have had, Holden thought, on a fresh wave of guilt, had her husband still been alive.

“Then you're going to have to do a lot more than just sell
the dealership and the house,” he told her sternly. “You're going to have to start dating again.”

Libby eyed him mockingly. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

“I'm serious.”

“I know you are.” Her hips swaying provocatively, she strode past him toward the kitchen.

Like every other room in the house, it had been decorated long before Libby arrived on the scene. And although the color scheme was okay—if you liked bleached oak cabinets and beige walls—the once top-of-the-line appliances were definitely showing their age. As were some of the wall hangings and wooden blinds.

“The only problem is, no one will ask me out.”

She hit the switch, flooding the room with light, then headed for the fridge.

Holden followed her lazily. Glad she had decided to do something to distract them from the new tension between them, he watched her rummage through the contents until she emerged with a chocolate-and-peppermint Yule log from the local bakery.

His mouth watering for more than the sweet, he settled against the counter.

“That's because you're still putting out the I'm-a-widowand-therefore-off-limits-to-anyone-with-any-sensitivity vibe.”

Libby stood on tiptoe to reach the dessert plates. “I am not.”

He came forward to help her, steadying her with a hand to her waist. “Yeah…you are.” He finished getting the dishes down for her. “But we can fix that.”

Her lips pursed stubbornly. “How?” she asked, cutting two slices and handing him one, complete with a fork.

Holden settled opposite her at the table. Their knees
touched momentarily. Regretting the contact—and the sizzle of warmth it engendered—he pulled back and continued to focus on solving her problem. “By finding you a rebound guy.”

Libby frowned. “I get that you're trying to help me, but why would you want any other guy to sign up for that—after what you went through with your ex?” She scowled protectively, like the close friend she had once been before their ill-fated kiss-that-never-quite-happened. “Heidi broke your heart! To the point that you've never dated seriously since.”

“I haven't dated seriously because I haven't found the right woman,” Holden corrected bluntly. “But I should put myself out there if I want to move on, too. And I do.”

Libby went very still. “What are you suggesting?”

Holden's spirits rose as the idea took on momentum. “That we both shake off the rust. Get back in the game.”

Libby licked the frosting off the back of her fork. “By that you mean…?”

“Go out to dinner. Attend holiday parties. Really celebrate the season. Who knows? If you and I get back in the habit of dating again, it might give us both a whole new outlook on life.”

Libby's soft lips took on an enticing curve. “Meaning what?” she murmured cynically. “I might be so content I won't want to sell the dealership and move out of town?”

He grinned at her sarcasm and lifted a palm. “I'm just saying…”

Silence fell as the notion stuck. They studied each other.

Libby took the last bite of her dark chocolate cake, savoring the sweet decadence. “So, cowboy with all the answers, how do you propose I find my rebound man?”

“You're looking at him.”

Libby stared at Holden, sure she hadn't heard right. “Why in the world would you do that, after the way you were hurt the last time?”

“Unwittingly being someone else's rebound person is what makes me right for the task. I know you still love Percy and always will. It's not going to be easy for you to move on.”

Guilt threatened to overwhelm Libby. She and Percy
hadn't
been in love at the end. But no one knew that…. “Don't put me up for sainthood,” she said quietly. She had enough of that from the community every single day. “Because I'm not the perfect woman and I was never the perfect wife.”

“Percy sure thought otherwise.”

More guilt flooded her heart.

“He'd never met a woman who was more accommodating.”

Libby pushed back her chair and carried her plate to the dishwasher. “Which is one reason I'm so unhappy,” she remarked lightly. “I've spent too much of my life trying to please everyone else.”

Holden put his dish and fork in the machine, too. Then
he leaned against the counter, watching her. “Your aunt Ida?”

Libby could feel him sizing her up, trying to figure out how to convince her to stay where he could keep an eye on her, and hence, continue to fulfill his deathbed promise to her late husband.

Wishing she weren't so aware of Holden's presence, Libby retreated into scrupulous politeness. “I was only seven when my parents died. Even though my aunt was in her fifties at the time, she took on the responsibility of raising me.” She sighed. “I loved her dearly and will always be grateful to her for taking me in. But…because I was her only remaining family and she mine…she was paranoid about potential dangers and kept me on a very tight leash.”

“I remember you had to live at home with her while you were attending UT.”

Promising herself she was not going to fall prey to the attraction between them, Libby nodded. “Part of it was that she needed someone to take care of her by then, but the other part was that she didn't want me doing anything the least bit reckless.”

“Which is where Percy came in,” Holden guessed.

Libby made a face. In retrospect she could hardly believe her recklessness. “After Aunt Ida passed, that was all I wanted to do. Percy took me skydiving and hiking and taught me how to water-ski.” More than anything, the diversion had helped her survive her mourning.

Holden moved closer, holding her gaze in an increasingly intimate way. “You don't do any of that stuff anymore.”

Hanging on to her composure by a thread, she rubbed a nick on the counter with her fingertip. “I guess I had more
of my aunt in me than I realized because I never really liked it.”

Any more than I like selling tractors and ranch equipment now.

“But…at the same time—” Libby lifted her chin, drew a deep breath “—I had something to prove. Once that was accomplished, my total freedom to finally do as I pleased verified that I actually wanted a more sedate lifestyle.” She flashed him a rueful smile, aware that what had comforted her had eventually ended up nearly doing him in. “Which was where you entered the picture….”

“I went back to doing those things with Percy when you stopped.”

“And—contrary to what you might have thought—I really was appreciative.”

“That I took your place?”

“I knew Percy wasn't going to stop indulging in physically challenging activities. He was too much of a dare-devil for that. I was glad he had someone trustworthy and levelheaded to go with him.”

Holden's expression radiated guilt, and silence fell between them.

Compassion for his plight forced her to go on. “So you see, Holden,” Libby continued gently, “you have already done more than enough for both Percy and for me. You really don't have to squire me around, the way you did tonight.”

“Suppose I want to,” Holden said. “What then?”

She blinked. “Why would you want to do that?” she demanded.

Merriment turned up the corners of his lips. “Because it occurs to me now that I need a rebound woman as much as you need a rebound man.”

 

H
ER HEARTBEAT KICKING UP
a notch, Libby studied him. “You're serious.”

Holden lounged against the counter opposite her, his arms folded against his chest. He stared at her with a steely resolve that matched her own. “Think about it. I'll always view you as Percy's wife.”

Trying not to think what his steady appraisal and deep voice did to her, Libby appraised him right back. “And I'll always regard you as his best friend.”

Cynicism twisted a corner of his mouth. “So there's no chance either of us will take a dating arrangement to heart.”

Libby began to see where he was going with this. His proposal could be the solution to both their problems, as well as a bridge to the future. “It'll just be part of the process we both need to go through to get back out there.”

“Right,” he said casually. “Kind of like riding a bike…”

Stubbornly, she kept her eyes locked with his, even as her heart raced like a wild thing in her chest. “We're going to need ground rules,” she warned.

He accepted her condition with a matter-of-fact nod. “The more specific, the better.”

“How long should we do this?”

He shrugged, considering. “Through New Year's?”

Libby drummed her fingers on the countertop. “That would get us all the way through the holidays.”

His big body began to relax. “It's always good not to be alone this time of year.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Invites too much pity. Which—” she leaned in close “—is something I think we can agree neither of us needs.”

A companionable silence fell between them. Searching
for other pitfalls, Libby said, “What about our friends and your family?”

Holden grimaced, suddenly looking like a knight charged with protecting his queen. “I don't see any need to make a big announcement. They'll figure it out. Eventually.”

She appreciated his desire to shield her from hurt. And while she didn't need his chivalry, in this one instance she supposed it wouldn't hurt to accept it. “That would lessen the pressure.”

“And perhaps the scrutiny, as well.”

He was right in that respect. There was nothing worse than having everyone tracking the progress of a new romance, and then broadcasting the “latest developments” to everyone they knew.

“What about sex?” Libby pressed, perfectly willing to keep their process of renewal private. “Because if you're expecting to go to bed with me as part of our bargain…”

Holden winced, as if he found the whole idea painful and awkward. “I don't think we need to make it a condition of the relationship,” he interjected swiftly.

Libby breathed a sigh of relief.

“On the other hand…” he continued with a wicked smile. He was ready for whatever came.

Was she?

Hit with a sudden case of nerves, Libby cleared her throat. “I'm not sure I…” She stopped, unable to go on. There were shortcomings she did not wish to discuss. Her ability to hold a man's attention in the bedroom topped the list.

Holden frowned, all protective male again. “Then don't worry about it,” he said, his gaze sincere. “We're only going to be together for six weeks. Then we'll be moving
on. Frankly, it might be better for our friendship if we didn't consummate the dating thing.”

Libby relaxed again. “Thank you.”

Not that she was surprised. Holden McCabe was always a true gentleman.

 

“I
S IT TRUE
?” Several LRE employees confronted Libby the next morning the minute she walked in the front door. “Are you really planning to sell Lowell Ranch Equipment?”

Lucia Gordon, the dealership receptionist, wrung her hands. “We figured you were just talking to Jeff Johnston to price him out of the market and get him to stop calling you.”

“Today, I've already had requests from him to fax all the financials over to him at the Laramie Inn, ASAP,” Vince Hunt reported.

Libby directed the group into her private office, where everyone stood shoulder to shoulder. She put down her purse and coffee mug. “He should not have asked you that. He should have come through me for any further information he needed.”

“Percy left the dealership to you because you're the last of the Lowells and he expected you to take care of it,” Manny Pierce reminded her. “Not end three generations of Lowell family tradition and cash in.” The senior mechanic frowned. “We're really disappointed in you, Libby.”

“As well as worried about our jobs,” Swifty Mortimer added.

Libby worked her coat off and slung it over the back of her desk chair. “No one is going to lose their employment over this. That I can promise you.”

Skeptical glances abounded. Clearly disgruntled, everyone filtered out.

The rest of the workday went just as badly.

Near 4:00 p.m., Libby walked over to the warehouse to do the end of November inventory.

She had just climbed into the cab of a deluxe combine harvester to compare the serial number and price with the information they had in their computer system when Holden McCabe walked into the building.

How was it, she wondered, that he knew intuitively just when to show up to save the day or lighten her mood? Despite her decision not to rely on him emotionally in any way, her heart gave a little leap.

Oblivious to the hopelessly dependent nature of her thoughts, Holden lifted one brawny arm in acknowledgment. He strode confidently toward her.

Her heart took another little leap of anticipation as he neared.

Appearing concerned, he climbed into the enclosed cab beside her and shut the door.

His shoulder and hip brushed hers as he settled onto the bench seat. “What's going on?” he asked her as he shot her another concerned look.

Trying not to notice how much space his tall, muscular frame took up, Libby swallowed. She hadn't wanted to cry on his shoulder this much since the night he had brought her home from the emergency room.

She drew another breath as her pulse picked up a notch and a guilty flush heated her face. “Pretty much what you'd expect, under the circumstances. All the employees are mad at me. They think I'll be betraying the Lowells if I sell.”

He studied her empathetically. “Sometimes you have to forget pleasing everyone else and make yourself happy.” He
shrugged and briefly squeezed her forearm. “I'm thinking this is one of those times.”

Libby released a tremulous breath and raked a hand through her hair. “You really do understand.” And she needed that. Even though she was convinced she was doing the right thing, this situation left her feeling more vulnerable than she had expected.

With a cajoling smile, and another pat on her arm, Holden predicted, “And everyone else will understand, too, given a little time. In the meantime—” he released her and sat back “—I've got some more bad news—if you think you can handle it.”

Aware how her arm was tingling from that brief, comforting touch, Libby turned her attention to the rotary thresher attached to the front of the machine. She took a second to brace herself for the second onslaught of the day. “Go ahead,” she instructed wearily.

He rested a powerful forearm on the hydraulic steering wheel. “The library has been closed indefinitely. Apparently, what Rowdy found beneath the subflooring was asbestos that had been used for electrical insulation and soundproofing.”

Libby winced. “That sounds dangerous.”

He nodded. “It can be a real health hazard if it starts to deteriorate, and this stuff looked pretty old.” Cheering slightly, he added, “The good news is all the AC filters and surfaces in the library building tested clean of any microscopic fibers that could be inhaled, so no one's been in danger thus far. But it's going to have to come out.”

She sighed wearily as she waited for him to continue.

He met her level gaze. “And it's going to be a very expensive proposition. The initial estimate from the
hazardous-material experts is a quarter of a million, and the county doesn't have it in the budget.”

Libby's heart sank as she contemplated the loss. “So what are they going to do?”

“Try and find the money somewhere, but the earliest that will happen is January.”

She clapped a hand over her heart. “And in the meantime?”

“The county is arranging for Laramie residents to have privileges in neighboring county library systems.”

“But those are thirty-five miles away, minimum!” Libby declared in dismay.

Holden exhaled, looking disappointed, as well. “It's the best the county can do.”

She turned toward him urgently, her knee bumping his thigh in the process. “There has to be a better solution!” she protested hotly.

The corners of his lips curved upward. “Miss Mim and Miss Rosa are collecting suggestions as we speak.” His glance sifted slowly over Libby's face, lingering on the flush in the cheeks and her lush bare lips, before returning to her eyes. “In the meantime, I was thinking. It is Saturday…so how about tonight for our first official date?”

 

H
OLDEN WAS SURPRISED
but pleased that Libby assented right away. “The distraction might be just what I need….”

He'd half feared she would get cold feet about the whole arrangement and try to beg off, but she hadn't, so they agreed to meet at her house at seven-thirty.

Leaving her to finish the inventory, Holden went home to the Bar M ranch to take care of his horses, shower and change. Figuring there would be less pressure on them if they had dinner and saw a movie, he printed out the listings
for the theater in town and the multiplex in San Angelo, then headed back to Libby's place.