Stella Bagwell

One Tall, Dusty Cowboy


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with Bart a week before that day you and I met on the stairs.”

      With a rueful shake of his head, he said, “What a shame. All that wasted time that we could have had together.”

      Ignoring his outrageous comment, she said, “Apparently, you don’t spend much time around the house.”

      “I sleep and eat there, but not much more. I have too many responsibilities outside,” he explained. “There’s always something to be done on the range—with the cattle and horses.”

      She glanced over at him and was instantly struck by his long, lean body and the dark, proud profile of his face. The only cowboys she’d ever been around were the ones who passed through the E.R. and the common denominator she’d noticed in them was their gritty toughness. She expected Rafe Calhoun was the epitome of that.

      “And what exactly are your responsibilities on the ranch?”

      “I’m the foreman over the cow/calf operation. I oversee the health and nutrition of all the cattle and that includes every aspect of their feeding routine, conditions of the grazing land, calving operations, breeding, identification and vaccination. There’s more, but I don’t want to bore you.”

      “It doesn’t bore me at all. Since I know very little about ranching, it’s all fascinating to me.”

      He slanted her a wry look. “It’s hard to imagine that you aren’t familiar with ranching. You live in the West, my dear. Where do you hang out?”

      “There are several hospitals in Carson City. Are you familiar with nursing and medical treatment?” she tossed back at him.

      He chuckled. “You are good, Lilly. Real good. I have the feeling you’re going to keep me on my toes tonight.”

      And she had a feeling she was already in trouble, Lilly decided. Not only was the man a delight to her eyes, he made her want to smile. Something that Lilly had almost forgotten how to do.

      “I’ll try not to be a dull girl,” she promised, then glanced around as she noticed the bulk of the city slipping behind them. “I thought we were going to eat. What do you have planned? Parking out on the desert and eating off the tailgate?”

      He snapped his fingers. “Say, that’s a nice idea. Especially with the moon almost being full. But unfortunately, I didn’t think of it before I made reservations at a place over on the north rim of the lake.”

      She’d not expected him to drive all the way to Lake Tahoe just for dinner. But she supposed it didn’t really matter. Whether they were in a fast-food joint or a cozy café, she was going to be in his close company and she could already feel that each moment she spent with this man was going to take a heavy toll on her common sense.

      * * *

      A half hour later, when he pulled the truck to a stop in front of the Sierra Chateau and handed the keys to a waiting valet, Lilly was beginning to understand just what it meant to be a Calhoun. The closest that she, or any of her friends, had gotten to this place was only in their imagination.

      The three-story rock structure resembled a small castle nestled within giant pines and pungent spruce trees. A rock bridge formed a walkway over a rushing stream while every space of lawn was filled with blooming shrubs and flowers. It was truly a fairy-tale scene.

      “Rafe, I’m very angry with you,” she said as he tucked her hand into the curve of his arm.

      He escorted her over the bridge toward a canopied entrance where a doorman waited to open a pair of opulent glass doors. “Why? I haven’t done anything—yet.”

      “I am not dressed for anything like this! And I don’t think I’ll be comfortable. Why couldn’t we have gone out for burgers and fries?”

      He thumped the heel of his palm against his forehead in a clueless gesture. “Why in heck didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

      “Because you didn’t give me a chance to tell you anything. You simply took the bull by the horns.”

      His eyes sparkling, he grinned down at her. “I am a cowboy,” he reminded her. “I’m an expert at taking the bull by the horns.”

      Lilly figured he was an expert at taking, all right. Anything he happened to want. The trick was to make darn sure that what he wanted wasn’t her.

      “Quit worrying, Lilly. You look gorgeous. And I brought you here to enjoy the evening. We’ll do burgers next time.”

      She wasn’t going to think about a next time. It was going to be hard enough just to survive the night.

      Inside the lavish restaurant, a hostess quickly ushered them to a beautiful little table with a view of the lake. As they waited for their meal, Lilly sipped on ginger ale while Rafe enjoyed a locally brewed lager. Nearby, several couples were quietly dining and Lilly tried not to notice how all the women were impeccably dressed.

      Even though her white silk top and black pencil skirt were acceptable, she felt completely underdressed. Yet from the appreciative way Rafe’s gaze kept sliding over her, he seemed to think she looked perfect. The notion made her want to squirm upon the wide, padded chair. Sure, she liked for men to think she was attractive, but Rafe was eyeing her as though he wanted to have her for dinner, rather than the prime rib he’d ordered.

      “Tell me, Lilly, have you always lived in Carson City?”

      “No. Up until I was three years old, we lived in St. George, Utah, but then my father’s job was transferred to Nevada. He’s a welder for the Virginia-Truckee railroad. My parents live just outside of Virginia City.”

      “So your parents are still together? Nowadays that’s quite a feat.”

      It was definitely a feat for Faye and Ron, she thought dourly. But she wasn’t about to delve into the problems her parents had endured in their marriage. She hated to even think of their battles, much less share them with someone like Rafe. His mother had been full of compassion and quiet, gentle grace whereas Faye was impatient, loud and critical. He wouldn’t understand a woman like Lilly’s mother. There were times that Lilly didn’t understand her, either, but in spite of Faye’s shortcomings, she loved her.

      She grimaced. “It’s pretty miraculous, all right.”

      He lifted the glass of beer to his lips and after a long drink, he said, “I understand you’ve met my dad, Orin. Has anyone told you that my mother died a few years ago?”

      “No one had to tell me,” she informed him. “I was actually acquainted with Claudia. In fact, I attended her funeral services.”

      For the first time since she’d met him, she saw a look of real surprise cross his face, which was immediately followed by a dark, almost brooding shadow.

      “You knew my mother? I never expected that.”

      She nodded while her gaze followed the movement of his hands as he placed the glass down on the tabletop. All night long, her eyes had kept returning to his long, tanned fingers with their short, clipped nails. He had strong hands with rough palms that caused a buzz of excitement each time they touched her skin. The thought of them moving over her with passion also had her wondering just how many women had experienced the touch of those hands and how many more he’d lured into his bed.

      “Claudia used to volunteer at Tahoe General. We—uh—would bump into each other from time to time. She was a lovely woman inside and out. I was so shocked when she took that fall in her home. But all the staff at the hospital expected her to fully recover.”

      His gaze dropped to the tabletop. “It was all so senseless, Lilly. She was carrying a basket of laundry down the stairs and took a bad step. We’ve always had maids for that sort of thing. There wasn’t any need for her to be doing it—but that’s the way she was—always busy and working.” He shook his head as though the whole incident was still hard for him to believe or accept. “The fall gave her a concussion, but she appeared to get over it quickly. She’d been discharged from the hospital