Cowboy Comes Home

“That’s not it,” she protested. With small conviction.

“My time would have been better spent in the barn. The feed room’s neglected. There’s enough space between some of the boards to see daylight.” He stowed the pliers and wire cutters in the saddlebag. “I won’t be much use to you if you can’t stand to have me around.”

“You’re wrong.” She’d never admit defeat. “It was just that the good weather won’t hold for long. I thought the fences should be taken care of first.”

“Busywork,” he groused, giving the weather-worn fence post a shove. It rocked. “You need new posts, too.”

“Next time I’m in town, I’ll price lumber. Maybe we can do the home pasture for now.” She looked relieved that he’d let her off the hook. “Anyway, I rode out to see if you were hungry for lunch.”

“That wasn’t necessary. I packed a sandwich and a thermos of coffee.”

Her eyebrows went up. “When did you manage that?”

“After breakfast. You were lurking on the back porch, trying to avoid me.”

“I was pacing, not lurking. I had a craving for a cigarette.” She wheeled Sloop around. “Leave this section for now. Just fix what you can.”

“Waste of time,” he called, forestalling her departure.

She glanced back. “What?”

“There’s no need to send me off to Outer Mongolia, Meg. I was planning to keep to myself anyway. When you want to be rid of me, all you have to do is say the word.”

She didn’t seem to know how to respond.

He lifted the second flap of the saddlebag and took out the thermos. “You could even safely share my coffee and sandwich, with no danger of camaraderie.” Let alone intimacy.

“I rode out here to be sure you got your lunch, didn’t I?”

“But I’ll bet you had no intention of eating any yourself. At least not with me.” He shook his head. “You’ve got to learn how to relax around me.”

Her lashes lowered. “I don’t seem to know how to treat you anymore. What do you suggest?”

“First off, don’t treat me at all. You’re thinking too much when you should be natural. Second, climb down off that horse and have a sip of coffee.”

“I’m weaning myself off caffeine,” she said, but she dismounted.

He tied Renny to the rickety post and strolled to an outcropping of rock and sagebrush. “You had coffee this morning.”

“I allow myself one cup with breakfast.” She smoothed her horse’s reins between her hands. “I gave up all my other vices—alcohol, cigarettes, swearing.”

Men, he silently added, though he didn’t know that for sure. He was guessing, by her antsiness around him, that she hadn’t been with a man for some time.

“How come?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just had enough of them, is all.”

“I hope you weren’t sick.” She had the gaunt look of someone who’d been through the wringer, one way or another. He supposed he had the same look.

“Not exactly what you’d call—” She pressed her lips together. “You see? This is what I wanted to avoid. All this talk. The questions.”

“Uh-huh. And what sort of conversation would you prefer, ma’am? The common weather variety, I suppose.” He pointed to the sky. “Chilly and clear. Partly sunny, with intermittent clouds. It’s turned into a fine autumn day.”

She nudged at a mossy stone with the toe of her boot. “Go tell it to the Weather Channel.”

He screwed the top back on the thermos. The coffee had warmed him from the inside, the sun from the outside. Yet he was still cold. “It’s going to be a long winter, Meg.”

“It always is.”

“But with just you and me here, especially if you keep on acting so prickly…”

Sloop pulled on the reins, snatching at the grass. Absently Meg tugged back. Her eyes were narrowed on Rio’s. “What are you saying?”

“Ease up. Pull in the quills. I’m not an enemy.”

She shortened the reins, bringing the horse’s head up. Her face was unnaturally pale beneath the two spots of ruddy color in her cheeks.

“You know it,” he added. She had to. “You know me.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“Not that much has changed, no matter how long it’s been.” He wanted to shorten the distance between them, but it wasn’t going to be that easy. “You can trust me, Meg.”

She threw the reins around Sloop’s neck and reached for the stirrup. He admired her athletic grace as she swung her leg over the saddle. And, admittedly, her fine shape. Even skinny, she filled out her jeans very well.

“If you’re staying all winter,” she added. “I guess I’ll find out.”

He watched her ride away, loping again, faster than she should have, not looking back. He was satisfied with himself for making even a small amount of progress with her, until a disarming thought struck him.

Given what a large part of his life Meg had once been, there was the enormous likelihood that he’d be writing about her in a very intimate way. She wouldn’t like that. In fact, she’d hate it.

Yet he’d just said that she could trust him.

If the book deal went through, it would prove him to be a liar.

CHAPTER FOUR

MEG AND RIO SETTLED into a routine over the next several days, although she could never be entirely at ease with him. There were too many uncomfortable moments when their idle chitchat turned serious or old shared memories arose from some innocent remark. It seemed to her that their history lurked in the shadows, ready to spring up as suddenly and as lethal as a rattler.

Then there were the instances when Rio got too close physically. Meg was accustomed to avoiding the past. But practically living with a man, especially one as vital as Rio, was disturbing in an immediate way that was impossible to ignore.

She handled that by taking a big step back. Literally and figuratively, no matter how strong the temptation to succumb grew. Since the chemistry between them would always be there, she was counting on getting better with practice. Better at avoiding him. Stronger at resisting.

Not that Rio pushed. Or even tried. He hadn’t made a single move. He was, in fact, scrupulous about giving her the space she needed. Which was fine with her.

Until she began noticing that he seemed to want to keep away from her as much as she tried to avoid him.

That made her wonder.