Cattleman's Courtship

Gray eyes, the color of a summer storm, met hers in a piercing gaze. Eyes she had once looked into with love and caring. Eyes that once beheld her with warmth instead of the coolness she now observed.

“Hello, Cara. I heard rumors you were back in town.” Nicholas pushed his hat back on his head, his well-modulated voice showing no hint of discomfort.

The last time she saw him, three years ago, he wasn’t as in control. His anger had spilled over into harsh words that cut and hurt. And instead of confronting him, challenging him, she had turned tail and run.

And she and Nicholas hadn’t spoken since then.

Her friend Trista had assured her Nicholas was working overseas on yet another dangerous job.

Yet here he stood making her heart pound and her face flush.

“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle for a week,” she said, forcing a smile to her face, thankful the trembling in her chest didn’t translate to her voice. “After that I’m heading to Europe for a holiday.”

“What made you decide Europe?”

Okay, chitchat. She could do chitchat.

“My mother spent some time in Malta.”

“Ah, yes. In her many travels around the world.”

Cara frowned at the faint tone of derision in his voice. Though Cara had wished and prayed that her mother would stay with her instead of heading off on yet an other mission project, she also had wished she shared her mother’s zeal.

“She did some relief work there,” Cara said. “I’d like to visit the orphanage where she worked.” She folded her arms over her chest. “And how are things with you and your father?”

“We’re busy on the ranch,” he replied. He drew his hands out of the pockets of his denim jeans and placed them on the counter.

The hands of a working man. Cara fleetingly noticed the faint scars on the backs of his hands, a black mark on one fingernail.

His eyes bored into hers and for the smallest moment she felt like taking a step back at the antagonism she saw there. But she clung to the counter, holding her ground.

“And how are you enjoying Vancouver?” he asked.

“I’m moving.”

Nicholas raised one eyebrow. “Where to this time?”

“I’ve got a line on a job in Montreal working for an animal drug company in a lab.”

He gave a short laugh. “Didn’t figure you for a big-city person working in a lab.”

“The job is challenging.” She gave a light shrug, as if brushing away his observations.

At one time this man held her heart in the callused hands resting on the counter between them. At one time all her unspoken dreams and wishes for a family and a place were pinned on this man.

She couldn’t act as if he were simply another customer she had to deal with. “What can I do for you?” she asked, going directly to the point.

He gave her a smile that held no warmth and in spite of her own hurt it still cut.

“I need to vaccinate my calves before I put them out to pasture.”

“How many doses?” she asked, sliding the large glass refrierator door open and pulling out the boxes he asked for.

“Anything else?” she asked, favoring him with a quick glance, hoping she looked far more professional than she felt.

“Yeah. I’m sending a shipment of heifers to the United States. I need to know what I have to do before I send them out.”

“From your purebred herd?”

Nicholas nodded, reaching up to scratch his forehead with one finger. He often did that when he contemplated something, Cara thought. She was far too conscious of his height, of the familiar lines of his face. The way his hair always wanted to fall over his forehead. How his dark eyebrows accented the unusual color of his eyes. How his cheekbones swept down to his firm chin.

He looks tired.

The thought slipped past her defenses, awakening old feelings she thought she had dealt with.

She crossed her arms as if defending herself against his heartrending appeal.

“I’m sending out my first shipment of heifers along with a bull,” he continued. “If this guy likes what he sees, I could have a pretty good steady market.”

“You’re ranching full-time now?” Cara fought the strong urge to step back, to give herself more space away from the easy charm that was causing her tension.

Nicholas frowned, shaking his head. “After I ship out the heifers I’m heading overseas again.”

“Overseas?” She’d been told that, but she didn’t know the details. Guess working offshore rigs wasn’t dangerous enough, or didn’t pay enough. “Where will you be?”

“A two-month stint in Kuwait. Dad’s still able to take care of the ranch so I figure I better work while I can.”

“And how’s your leg?” she asked, referring to the accident he suffered working on the rigs just before their big fight. The fight that had shown Cara that Nicholas’s ranch would always come before anything or anyone else in his life. Including her.

Nicholas eyes narrowed. “The leg is fine.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Before they could get into another dead-end discussion, Cara pulled a pad of paper toward her. “As for the heifers you’ll be shipping, you’ll need to call the clinic to book some tests.” Was that her voice? So clipped, so tense? She thought after three years she would be more relaxed, more in control.

She reached for a pen but instead spilled the can’s contents all over the counter with a hollow clatter.

Of course, she thought, grabbing for the assortment of pens. Nicholas Chapman shows up and hands that could stitch up a tear in a kitten’s eyelid without any sign of a tremor suddenly become clumsy and awkward.

“Here, let me help you,” he said as he picked up the can and set it upright.

For the briefest of moments, their hands brushed each other. Cara jerked hers back.

Nicholas dropped the handful of pens into the aluminum can, then stood back.

Cara didn’t look at him as she scribbled some instructions and put them in her uncle’s appointment book. “I made a note for my uncle to call you, in case you or your dad forget.” She didn’t want to sound so aloof, but how else could she get through this moment?

He took the paper she handed him and, after glancing down briefly at it, folded it up and slipped it into his pocket. “I could have phoned for the information, but I was in town anyway.”