Stella Bagwell

Cowboy to the Rescue


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her palm weakly against his, the woman totally surprised him by curling her fingers firmly around his and giving his whole hand a strong shake.

      “Nice to meet you, Mr. Saddler.”

      “Oh, don’t call him ‘Mr.,’” Geraldine quickly interjected. “You’ll make his head even bigger than it already is. He’s Lex to everyone. Even you. Isn’t that right, son?”

      Lex glanced at his mother, then smiled at Christina Logan. “I’d be pleased if you’d call me Lex. After all, I’m sure we’ll be getting to know each other very well in the coming days.”

      Not if she could help it, Christina thought as she eyed the tough cowboy standing in front of her.

      When Geraldine Saddler had approached her about taking on this case of her husband’s death, she’d been very excited. The Sandbur reputation was known all over the state of Texas and beyond. Besides being rich and prominent, the families had the reputation of being fair dealers. Solving this case for the Saddlers was definitely going to put a feather in her cap. However, when Geraldine had spoken of her son and the role he would be playing to help Christina with information, she’d expected Lex to be a businessman. The kind that sat behind a desk all day, giving orders over the phone. The kind that had soft hands and plenty of employees to make sure they stayed that way.

      She’d never expected the rough, tough specimen of masculinity standing before her. He was tall. At least six foot three. And his body was the lean, wiry kind full of strength and stamina. Straight hair in myriad shades of blond covered his forehead and lent a boyish look to his rugged, thirty-something features. White teeth gleamed against his tanned face as his smile zeroed in directly on her.

      Christina wanted to turn and run. Instead, she dropped his hand and drew in a long, much-needed breath.

      “Then Lex it will be,” she said as casually as she could. “And you must call me Christina.”

      “Will you be working here much longer?” Geraldine asked her son.

      The man’s dark green eyes swung away from Christina’s face and over to his mother’s.

      “Yeah,” he answered. “Probably till dark. Why?”

      Geraldine rolled her eyes as though her son was growing slow-witted. “Cook is preparing a special supper in honor of Christina’s arrival. I’d appreciate it if you weren’t late.”

      “I’ll try not to be,” he assured her. “But I’m not going to leave everything with Matt.” He smiled at Christina. “You understand, don’t you?”

      Christina understood that this man had probably been charming females with that smile from the moment he’d been born.

      “Perfectly,” she told him, then quickly softened the word with a faint smile. After all, the man was to be admired for working at all when he clearly didn’t have to. Add to that, it was obviously important to him to carry out his part of the work, instead of leaving it all to the other men. “And don’t feel you have to make a special effort to hurry on my account. Your mother and I have plenty to talk over.”

      “Seven thirty, Lex,” Geraldine warned. “After that, I’m telling Cook to throw yours out.”

      “Ouch!” he exclaimed, with a grimace. “All right. I’d like to eat tonight, so I’d better get back to work. See you later, Christina.”

      He pulled the brim of his hat down low on his forehead, then tipped it toward Christina in an outrageously gallant way before he climbed over the fence and jumped back into the dusty corral.

      Sighing, Geraldine turned toward her. “I’m sorry if my son seems indifferent, Christina. But don’t worry. He’ll come around. I’ll see to that.” She closed a hand around Christina’s elbow and urged her toward the big hacienda-style ranch house in the distance. “Let’s get out of this dust and get you settled.”

      Two hours later, Christina stood in the upstairs bedroom she’d be occupying while on the ranch, peering out the window at the shadows rapidly spreading across the lawn below. From this view, she could see only portions of the massive ranch yard, with its numerous barns, sheds and corrals. The area where Lex Saddler had been working earlier was blocked from her view by the branches of a massive live oak tree.

      And that was okay with her. She didn’t need to be sneaking extra peeks at the man. Not when his image was still crowding her mind, refusing to leave her alone.

      He had trouble written all over that sexy face, and she’d not traveled all the way from San Antonio to this South Texas ranch to let a rakish cowboy—or any man, for that matter—distract her from her job. She’d learned the hard way that men like Lex had a habit of turning a woman’s life upside down, then leaving her alone to pick up the pieces. Now that she’d gotten herself glued back together after Mike’s betrayal, she had no intention of letting another man turn her head.

      Her lips pursed with grim determination, she walked over to a long pine dresser and gazed at her image in the mirror. Geraldine had insisted that the family didn’t “dress up” for evening meals, so Christina had chosen to wear a casual skirt with a ruffled hem, topped with a sleeveless cotton sweater in the same coral color as the skirt. Her aim was not to be overly dressed up, but to still look nice enough to show respect to her hosts.

      She was brushing the loose ends of her hair when a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Laying the brush back on the dresser top, she went to answer it and was faintly surprised to see Lex Saddler standing on the other side of the threshold. Obviously, he and his men had gotten all the little dogies marked with the Sandbur brand.

      “Good evening, Christina.”

      Christina couldn’t help herself. Before she could stop it, her gaze was sliding over him, noting the clean jeans and brown ostrich boots, the blue-and-white pin-striped shirt tucked inside a lean waistband, the long sleeves rolled back against corded brown forearms. At the moment his hat was absent. It appeared he’d made an effort to slick the thick blond hair back from his forehead, but a couple of strands had slipped from the restriction and were now teasing a toffee brown eyebrow. A faint stubble of whiskers said he either didn’t like shaving or had lacked the time to pick up a razor.

      But the faint brown shadow did nothing to detract from the man’s appearance. In fact, he was even more sensual and sexual than she’d first thought, and it irked her that the mere sight of him elevated the beat of her heart.

      “Good evening,” she said, returned his greeting, then, with a quick glance at her watch, asked, “Am I late?”

      He smiled. “Not at all. Mother’s on the front porch. We thought you might like to come down and have a drink before supper.”

      “Sounds nice,” she agreed.

      She shut the bedroom door behind her, and as they started down a wide hallway leading to the staircase landing, he linked his arm though hers, smooth and easy. Christina realized he was an old hand at escorting women.

      “So, do you like your room?” he asked. “If you don’t, there are several more you could try.”

      “The room is lovely,” she told him, then tossed him a glance. “And so is your ranch.”

      His brows arched upward, and then he chuckled. “My kind of woman,” he drawled. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

      Christina wasn’t ready to make such a prediction. Especially when he was giving off such flirtatious vibes. She was here for work and work only. She wanted to get along with this man, which would allow her to resolve the case quickly. If she had to keep fending him off at every turn, she was in for a long row to hoe.

      At the bottom of the long staircase, they crossed a wide living room with Spanish-tile floors, brown leather furniture and several sculptures and paintings depicting the history of the century-plus-old ranch. It was not the formal type of sitting room she would have expected in the home of such a wealthy family. Instead of being a showcase, it had a livedin look, which