Her Forever Cowboy (11 page)

He halted at the doorway. “That may be so, but it's clear you need someone,” he shot back.

Stubborn woman made him nuts—yeah, nuts, that was exactly what he was.

She got to him more than any woman ever had…and it wasn't a good thing.

C
alm down. Calm down. Calm down.

Samantha nudged her arm as Susan tried to get a rein on her temper. Big, cold lips nibbled at her arm, as if to console her.

“Don't worry, girl. I'm fine. It's him who might not live through the next few minutes,” she said. Understanding seemed to flow from the donkey's big brown eyes. Samantha was known for her almost human qualities. She had a wonderful sense for when someone was in need. Susan wasn't the first person for whom she'd saved the day. “Thank you for helping me, you little darling.”

Lucky had followed Cole outside and now Samantha spun and pranced like a show pony on tiptoes. Her hooves tapped down the long concrete alley between the stalls like a plump ballerina.

Susan followed, glad she hadn't gotten kicked in the head and wasn't seeing two dancing donkeys.

Cole was right. She'd been stupid.

But the very idea of his being right fired her irritation all the more. She'd been totally irresponsible coming out here alone. With practically no cell-phone reception to speak of in this part of the country, she might very well have been kicked in the head or gotten a broken leg or something and been stuck out here all night. Hurt and alone.

Or dead
.

She grimaced and took a step toward the outside where Cole had disappeared around the edge after telling her she needed someone. Needed someone—as if she didn't know that already! Didn't he understand she was looking? Of course he was talking about an assistant…She was going to look for one of those, too.

Movement didn't hurt as much as she feared when she marched forward. Her pride had sustained the worst damage.

It hadn't escaped her notice that God had been watching over her. It was a blessing that Sweet Pea hadn't stepped on her worse than she had.

Glancing down at her shirt, she was glad to see that it hadn't been ripped too terribly by Sweet Pea's clawing hooves. There was hay everywhere, though, and she dusted it off as she walked, her shoulder tightening up with each movement.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, disregarding the way her heart skipped at the sight of him beside his truck. She had a lot to ignore as instantly the feel of his arms around her came pushing into her thoughts. The feel of his lips against her skin—her
breath caught at the memory. She'd been too stunned earlier to think about it, but now there it was. He'd had his arms around her and…and
nothing
.

She shoved the thought away. “Why are you here?” she demanded more adamantly.

He lifted a couple of boxes from the seat of his truck and grinned.

His grin caught her off guard and might very well have caused her insides to melt like warmed butter
if
she'd let it. But oh, no—she fought that sensation off with a vengeance!

“What's that?” she asked, recognizing Sam's to-go boxes even as she asked the question. Food. Food was good.

“Jake was at Sam's when I got there and he said, from the looks of the mare, he felt like you had an all-night affair—little did I know I was going to find you being hauled out of harm's way by Samantha.”

His expression darkened and she knew he was fighting off saying more. Instead he held up the boxes. “Anyway, here's your supper.”

She wanted to tell him so badly to take his supper and hit the road, but her stomach roared like a hungry lion.

He cocked a brow. “Don't even try telling me you aren't hungry. Not with your stomach cutting up like that.” He walked past her to the mesquite bench swing next to the entrance of the barn. “Sam said you drink your tea unsweetened. Hope that's right,” he said as he passed her again.

“Um…sure,” she managed through clenched teeth as
a new issue hit her. “So everyone knows you brought me dinner?”

“Oh, yeah. Sam insisted.” He brought two paper glasses from the truck and sat down in the swing. Placing the glasses on the ground in front of him, he patted the seat beside him. “Come on. I don't bite.”

So he said! Susan eased into the swing and took the box of food he offered her. Might as well eat and hopefully then he would leave. The aroma of barbecue brisket caused her stomach to let out another roar, this time so loud Lucky's ears lifted as he plopped at her feet and waited for handouts. “This smells wonderful,” she admitted grudgingly.

“Yep. No matter where I go I always miss Sam's cooking.” Cole opened his box, closed his eyes and inhaled. “That is Texas gold right there.
That's
what I'm talking about.”

Susan almost choked watching him. His dark lashes rested against tanned skin and his lips were turned up at the corners…Gracious, she couldn't stop staring! “Yes, I know what you mean.” She sighed. His eyes popped open and she dropped her gaze to her box—snapping the lid open so fast she almost threw the food off her lap. Lucky barked and wiggled, thinking he'd very nearly hit the mother lode.

Needing something to do other than think of how handsome the ornery, oh-so-bossy cowboy beside her was, Susan grabbed a roll and chomped on it. She could only hope Cole didn't notice that unlike Lucky, she wasn't thinking about barbecue.

Maybe she had been kicked in the head after all!

“Why are you so stubborn?”

His irritating question shouldn't have surprised her. It did. “If a man conducted his business as I do, there would be nothing said about him being stubborn. He would just be taking care of business. You, Mr. Turner, are just—”

“Yeah, I am.” He held her gaze unapologetically. “Sexist. Is that what you were about to say? Because if you were and it is—I know you—then so be it. If me thinking you don't take good enough care of yourself puts me in that category then I'm in and proud of it.”

Unexpectedly his words sent a longing so strong through her that it took her breath. She chomped into her roll and chewed as if dogs were chasing her.
Do not let your guard down. Don't do it!

He was bossy and irritating, but he was trying to look out for her. Trying to protect her…and it felt oddly nice.

Not since her dad had she had anyone want to protect her.

A lump formed in her throat.
Whoa, stop right there. You are moving to Mule Hollow hoping to find someone who can put up with your way of life. Someone who can love you despite it…not someone who thinks your life is all wrong.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. She wasn't sure where to go or what to say, so she just ate. Her head was full of thoughts. She placed a piece of meat in her palm and held it down for Lucky, then rubbed his head after he snapped it up. “You love your job, don't you?” she asked, because it was the easy question. The safest
question. It wasn't the one asking why he didn't stick around in town or settle down. That was what she really wanted to know…why hadn't Cole Turner settled down?
Maybe because he's so ornery!
Well, that was the truth, but she knew God made partners for even the orneriest of them.

He reached for his drink; in the glow of the big light on top of the barn she watched him shake the ice around. “I'm not sure if I'd call it love.”

That struck her as odd. “But you live on the road. You go from place to place—I just assumed you loved it.”

“I help people. I like that. Don't get me wrong. But…”

But what? She toyed with her food then closed the lid and placed the box on the seat between them. “But?” she finally asked, intrigued when he remained silent. She watched his Adam's apple bob.

“You love your job?”

She nodded. “It's pretty evident.”

“Yeah. Anyone who dedicates almost every waking hour to something and totally ignores her safety has to love something.”

“So we're back to that.” Disappointment shrouded her as new anger flared. “I need to check on Sweet Pea,” she said, pushing out of the swing, glad her hip didn't protest too much. “Thanks for the dinner.”

“That hip hurting a lot?” he asked, following her out of the swing.

“No. I've been kicked and stomped on before. It's—”

“Part of the job,” he said, disgust dripping from the words as he finished her sentence for her.

“Yes. It is,” she snapped, stalking into the stable, trying not to limp too noticeably. What did the man expect from her? A person couldn't be a vet and not expect to get dirty or kicked a few times…or tired. She shot him a glare when he fell into step beside her.

“Look—” he started.

“No,
you
look.” She turned on him. “I don't need you strutting around here judging me. This is what I do. This is who I am. If you can't accept that, then I really don't need you hanging around. I didn't ask you to come here. And as for lunch tomorrow—forget about it. The offer is retracted. And if you're thinking about hanging around tonight, don't. This isn't my first foal and it won't be my last.” Her knees were shaking as she stormed away. Her daddy had told her she'd have to sacrifice things to get what she wanted out of life and she was willing to do it. If she didn't get rid of him now, she might regret it. For the first time in her life, she was scared she might be tempted to give up more than she wanted. All this fear he had for her was stifling.
Wasn't it?

Cole was not good for her. Not good at all.

“Go home,” she insisted. “And I mean it. Get out of here.”

 

Cole raked his hands through his hair and watched Susan disappear inside Sweet Pea's stall. He'd really overstepped his boundaries this time. What was it about Susan that had him tied up in knots with concern? Sure she'd had a couple of accidents when he'd been around, but things happen. She couldn't live in a glass cage—

What was he thinking? He walked to the stall, boots dragging as he tried to figure out what he should do.

What he needed to say. When he reached the stall he saw that Sweet Pea was down and the birth had started. Only a few minutes earlier the mare was struggling, and now in the blink of an eye the foal was coming. Susan was down beside her helping and he started inside to help her, but she shot him a glare, jerked her head in the direction of the barn exit and had him stopping in his tracks. Clearly she was serious about wanting him to leave.

So be it. He spun and strode to his truck. Susan didn't want him hanging around and she had things under control. He, on the other hand, didn't have anything under control. Nothing at all.

 

“Wyatt, are you coming to town or not?” Cole paced the floor of the stagecoach house. When he'd first arrived home, he'd stared at his Harley for twenty minutes before talking himself out of hitting the road back to Galveston. Instead he'd decided it was time to call his big brother—after all, it was Wyatt's fault he was in this mess.

“Sorry, brother, but I'm not making the trip. This case—”

“Don't even go there,” Cole growled. “Seth already told me about the plan to get me here and then keep me here.”

“I'm not denying that,” Wyatt said. “I thought it would be good for you. It's time for you to come home, Cole. You used to love that place out there. Until Lori. I really was coming home to talk to you face-to-face about this, but I'm tied up with an unexpected turn in
this case. I'm about to board a plane to New York right now. But listen to me, Cole. It's time to let Lori go. It's time to stay home where you're needed.”

“I'm needed—”

“At home. That's where you're needed now, and where you should stay long enough to come to terms with whatever's hounding you.”

“I'm not hounded.” Cole leaned against the counter and stared at the hundred-year-old cabinets in front of him. His roots ran deep here in this cabin and on this land. But his heart—“I need to leave, Wyatt.”

Wyatt didn't say anything for a long moment and the clock on the mantel ticked off the seconds. Every second weighed on Cole. He needed the road. He needed…what? This wasn't the same as the other times—this was different.

“How's the remodel coming along?” Wyatt said at last, breaking into Cole's troubled thoughts.

“I'm getting there.”

“If you're thinking about leaving, remember you signed up for that job. Running away isn't going to help that pretty vet get into her place. It'd be real sorry of you to leave her high and dry.”

“What are you, my mother?” Cole ground out.

Wyatt chuckled. “No, bro, I'm your big brother and don't you forget it. You are my responsibility and I keep tabs. So how's the good doctor?”

“She's an ill-tempered, stubborn woman who is probably ruing the day she hired me. I know I'm not too happy about signing on. Whoever that contractor was
that skipped out on her, he must have gotten a tip-off that working for her wasn't going to be a walk in the park.”