Trusting The Cowboy

“There might well be,” Lauren said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I don’t want or need another relationship.”

Jodie nodded, but Lauren saw her glance at the diamond ring on her finger. Her satisfied and peaceful smile created a nasty twist of jealousy.

At one time Lauren had worn a ring, too. At one time she had been making wedding plans.

She wasn’t ready to go there again. Between her father’s neglect and anger, and Harvey’s lies, and her past bosses’ treatment, she’d had enough.

But your father apologized.

She held that voice a moment, realizing that the apology had gone a long way to helping her settle the past.

However, he still had placed conditions on them. And as she fought a touch of resentment over that, a picture of Vic sitting across from her, holding her gaze, slipped into her mind. She knew Vic wasn’t letting go of his claim on the ranch until he knew, without a doubt, that her father hadn’t written anything up.

Which meant he would be around more than she liked. Not that she was attracted to him. She was never going down that road again.

* * *

Vic drove the tractor into the yard and pulled in front of Keith McCauley’s shop, frustrated that he hadn’t checked the amount of twine he had left in the baler before he started out this morning. He should have taken more with him, but he had been rushing all morning ever since he overslept.

Too much thinking last night, he told himself as he climbed out of the tractor. Too much on his mind. Dean. His widowed mother.

The missing deal with Keith. If he didn’t find the papers, Lauren was ready to sell the ranch. At a price he couldn’t afford.

He’d prayed about it and struggled to release it all into God’s hands, but he kept pulling back.

Stay focused. You’ll find the agreement.

He just wasn’t sure when that was supposed to happen.

He stepped into the shop, the light from the open door slanting into the dark of the cool building. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the indoors from the bright sunlight outside.

But as he walked across the uneven concrete floor, he heard rustling and clanging coming from inside. He walked closer, listening. He reached for the door just as it opened under his hand.

Lauren stepped out carrying a shovel.

She wore blue jeans today and a dark T-shirt. Her hair hung in a loose braid over one shoulder, and as she looked up at him, the shovel fell to the floor with a clatter, her hand on her chest as she stumbled backward.

She would have fallen, but Vic caught her by one arm, pulling her upright. They stood that way a moment and he caught a whiff of her perfume.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide, a soft gray in the low light. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, some grass stuck in her hair.

“Oh. It’s you,” she said, breathless as she pulled away from him.

The speed with which she did it almost unbalanced her again, but this time she grabbed the door handle, looking hastily away.

“Yeah. I just needed some more twine for the baler.” He poked his thumb over his shoulder. “Sorry I bothered you.”

“No. No. That’s fine. I just was startled. That’s all.” She pushed her hair back with the palm of her hand, creating another smudge of dirt. “I thought you were Jodie. She went to town and said she would be back soon.”

With her blue jeans and casual shirt, dirty face and messy hair, she looked even more appealing than she normally did.

And he was, suddenly, not in any rush to find another roll of baler twine.

“You’ve got some dirt on your face,” he said, pointing.

Lauren hastily scrubbed at her cheeks but only managed to make it worse.

Vic pulled out a hankie from his pocket and handed it to her. “Here. Use this.”

She frowned as she looked down at the red polka-dotted square.

“I haven’t used it yet,” he assured her.

“Thanks, but that’s not what I was worried about. I don’t meet many men who actually use the hankies they carry.” She hurriedly wiped her face, as if embarrassed he had caught her looking less than her best. “Though they’re not called hankies, technically they’re pocket squares and they’re usually white, artfully folded and peeking out of a suit pocket.” Then she released a short laugh. “Sorry. Babbling.” She looked up at him, her expression questioning. “Did I get it all?”

“Still some on your left cheek,” he said, pointing with his right hand. She wiped her right cheek. “No. The other left cheek,” he said with a grin.

She wiped furiously at her left cheek but still missed the spot.

“A little more to the left,” he said. A deep frown creased her forehead as she moved to the right, scrubbing again as if it was important she remove this dirt.

He finally took the hankie from her, caught her chin in his hand and wiped off the dirt himself. It was still smudged, but the worst was off.

He was disconcerted to see her looking up at him, her face holding a curious expression. “Sorry,” he said, lowering his hands. “I thought...you...you’d...”

“No. Thanks. It’s okay. I hate being dirty. Just a thing. Thanks.”

“Well, if that’s a problem, you’ve also got some grass in your hair.” But this time, instead of explaining, he plucked it out himself.

“I guess I’m ready to face the world,” she said with a nervous laugh, pulling away as he tugged at another piece.

As she did, his hand accidentally brushed her cheek, and she jumped as if he had struck her.

“Sorry,” she said, sounding breathless as she leaned over to pick up the shovel. “Still jumpy. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“That was my fault. I didn’t think anyone was in here, either. What are you doing with the shovel?”

“I’m cleaning out the flower beds. They’re horribly overgrown. I used to take care of them every summer when we came to visit. Dad must have let them get out of hand.”

“Your dad wasn’t much for gardening,” Vic said.

Lauren smiled at him and something dangerous shifted deep in his soul. He knew those first few whispers of attraction. Had felt them many times before. The last time was with Tiffany. Dean’s ex-girlfriend.

The memory was like a slap and he knew he should leave. Yet, against his better judgment, he lingered.

“The lawn is crazy, as well,” she continued as he mentally made his retreat from her. “I’m going to have to do three passes with the lawnmower before it’s acceptable. And I’d like to go into town tomorrow to pick up some flowers. I think the greenhouse is still selling them.”

“Why are you even bothering?” he asked, curiosity keeping him from stepping away. Curiosity and a deep loneliness that had been haunting him the past few months. He hadn’t dated since Tiffany had told him she loved him. That she wanted to break up with Dean and get back together with him. They had dated previously, but she had broken up with him to date his brother. Then realized her mistake and wanted to get back together with Vic. He’d told her she had to do the right thing and tell his brother.