Karen Rock

His Kind Of Cowgirl


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grace: coiled strength beneath a relaxed exterior. The chiseled planes of his face hadn’t changed, either, or the level brows over watchful blue eyes. How much would that thoughtful gaze puzzle out when Jonathan came into the picture?

      Suddenly the wind rose and the air around them pricked with electricity. Elm trees lashed to and fro as water dusted the air.

      “Looks like a bad one,” Tanner hollered when the clouds opened up and threw their first wet volley. A flash lit up the sky, the crash of thunder following close on its heels.

      “We’d better run for it,” he said.

      She looked down at her throbbing ankle and before she could react, he hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and raced across the road.

      “I can walk,” she protested, but he’d already reached his truck. When she pounded on his broad back, he turned, and his breath, barely scented with the tang of cinnamon, was warm on her face, his lips disturbingly close.

      “Hold still. You’ll hurt yourself more,” he said in the deep, soft voice he used to gentle two-thousand-pound bulls.

      “Let me down.”

      “Once you’re inside. Don’t want you injuring that ankle more.” His strong, one-handed grip held her captive as if she weighed nothing. He opened the door and lowered her onto the passenger seat.

      She watched him jog around to the driver’s side, wishing she was anywhere but here. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and memories of a man who’d actually cared about her, not with the one who’d proved he couldn’t care less. A person who’d left her, and an unborn child he’d thankfully never learned of, for what truly mattered to him: fame and fortune.

      Tanner slid inside and tossed his hat and jacket in the back. Raindrops fell from his nose and chin. “Here.” He reached behind him and draped a blanket around her. Her teeth chattered and she gathered the covering close. She wanted nothing from him. Not the blanket. Not even this ride. But, given the weather, she couldn’t argue.

      “So—so why are you back?” she managed through clenched teeth, her muscles straining not to shake.

      “Your father asked me.” He cranked the heat and headed back onto the road.

      Confusion mixed with the dull pounding in her head. “Why would he do that? He just had a stroke.”

      Blue eyes flicked her way, compassion deepening their color. “He told me about that and the ranch. I offered to help him save it.”

      “Are you kidding?”

      “Nope.” His mouth and jaw looked as firm as ever. Definitely not joking.

      “So you just dropped your career and came? Can’t remember that being an option before.” She pressed her lips closed, mad that she’d let him get her tail up. His leaving her was water under the bridge. It didn’t matter anymore. Unless he found out about Jonathan...

      “And you’re too late. The ranch is sold.” At least she’d be seeing Tanner’s taillights soon.

      His swift, sidelong glance made her jump and peer out her window at the writhing darkness, rain twirling through the black.

      “Your dad said the sale wasn’t final.”

      “It practically is,” she insisted, infuriated at his unruffled expression. “He just needs to sign the papers.”

      Tanner made a noncommittal sound that she barely heard over the thrumming engine.

      “It’s going through,” she vowed, falling into the same rhythm their old arguments used to take. The calmer he got, the more irrational she sounded...and it drove her as crazy now as it had then. Men. Were they born with a straightjacket on their emotions? Or maybe it was just Tanner.

      Tanner shrugged. “There’s still time.”

      Her heart beat a strange rhythm, stopping then racing. “Why are you butting into my family’s business? Don’t you have bulls to ride, autographs to sign?” She shrugged off the blanket, steaming now.

      A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Tore my rotator cuff and got another concussion recently. I need a place to rehab until I’m cleared to ride again.”

      She pushed down the sudden, unwelcome concern. He’d stopped being hers to worry about long ago. The wind kicked up and tossed a small branch at the windshield.

      “We’re not a spa. You’re wasting your time. Worse, you’re wasting ours.”

      In the split second his eyes flashed to hers, something shimmered and stretched inside, a dormant part of herself rattling its chains. There couldn’t be an atom of her that actually wanted him around, could there?

      “Coming here makes sense,” he said obliquely, returning his gaze to the slick road. The windshield wipers swished ragged sheets of water back and forth, the purr of heat lulled her.

      “None of this makes sense.” Despite everything, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. She had to keep Jonathan and Tanner apart, but how? It seemed impossible. With Tanner around, would her lies be challenged? Suspected? Her reasons for keeping quiet ten years ago still made sense. Tanner might have done the responsible thing and returned home, but he would have felt resentful. Tied down. Obligated. She wouldn’t let him blame her and Jonathan for losing out on his dreams. That wasn’t the kind of dad Jonathan deserved. The partner she’d wanted.

      “Don’t go to sleep, Claire,” he commanded, his voice suddenly sharp.

      Her lids flew open and she noticed the line of cypress trees that marked the start of the Bakers’ land. “I wasn’t.”

      An uneven breath escaped him. “I should drive you to the hospital.” He started to slow the truck as they approached an intersection and she waved a frantic hand.

      “I need to get home. My family will worry if I’m gone too long.” She had to get to the bottom of Tanner’s stay. Convince her father to change his mind. She couldn’t let him get stressed again trying to save the doomed ranch with some crazy, reckless scheme of Tanner’s. The doctor had ordered rest. Calm. Two things Tanner knew nothing about.

      “You have a son. Jonathan?”

      She pressed her shaking lips together, fighting to keep her face neutral. Already, the questions...

      They rolled up to a stop sign and idled. Out of the gloom bounded a pair of braying Labradors, breaking the potent silence that stretched between them. At last, her vocal cords unstuck. “How do you know that?”

      His forearms flexed as his fingers tightened on the wheel. “Heard about him from your father.”

      Her stomach clenched. “Then he told you I married nine years ago.”

      It hadn’t been hard to convince her dad Kevin had fathered Jonathan, since she’d truly fallen for the wonderful man who’d married her three months after Jonathan’s birth. Her father couldn’t have shared anything incriminating with Tanner...

      “I’m sorry about Kevin.”

      His sympathy fired through her, making her uncomfortable in her own skin. He had no business talking about her husband. Or Jonathan. She leaned her head against the window and stared out at the dim roadside pastures as they flashed by.

      “Dad should have mentioned your visit.” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the bumps on her arms.

      Intensity deepened the light creases that bracketed his mouth. “I asked him to. Must have forgotten.”

      Claire thought over her father’s recent absentmindedness. It could have slipped his mind... Still, why hadn’t he consulted her right away? If he had, she might have stopped this catastrophe. Tanner staying with her family? On her ranch? Impossible. He would be a bad influence on her boy and her fragile father.

      “How are you two still in touch?”

      “When