One Tall, Dusty Cowboy

“What is your kind of guy, Lilly? One who spends his evenings at home quietly reading the newspaper and saying yes, dear or no, dear?”

Long moments passed before she finally answered, “Could be that’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. “Sure. This from a woman who chose to give up therapy to work in the E.R. Yeah, you want a dull man, all right.”

“Don’t try to figure out what I want, Rafe. You might hurt yourself.”

She was right about that. He needed to give her a quick goodbye and never even glance in the rearview mirror. She was the kind of woman who could cause a man a deep-down hurt and he hardly needed more pain in his life.

Rafe was still telling himself that when ten minutes later, he parked the truck in front of Lilly’s house and helped her to the ground. But the touch of her hand upon his arm as he walked her to the door made it very difficult to concentrate on the mental warning.

When they reached the porch, she said, “I did offer you a drink before we left this evening. The offer still holds if you’d like a coffee. Just as a thank-you for the nice meal. Nothing else.”

Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to spend more time with this woman. Especially since she was being nice enough to invite him into her home. But to be honest with himself, he was feeling a little more than rattled. Some of the things she’d said had left him bruised and raw.

“Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check. You have to be up early and I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

She smiled at him and for one split second, Rafe wondered if he’d lost his mind.

She raised up on tiptoes and placed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for the dinner and the dancing. It was very nice.”

“My pleasure, Lilly.” He pressed her hand between his. “Good night.”

“Good night, Rafe.”

He turned and quickly walked to his truck, but as he drove away he couldn’t stop himself from looking back. And as he watched her step into the house and close the door behind her, he felt an inexplicable loss. One that he’d never expected to be feeling after a date with a beautiful woman.

* * *

The next morning when Lilly arrived at the Silver Horn to treat Bart, she didn’t see Rafe anywhere around the ranch yard. And more than an hour later, when she drove away, there was no Wild West show of him and Roscoe running her down and stopping her on the road.

She told herself she was glad that she’d not had to encounter the man, especially after that kiss last night. But if she was being honest with herself, she felt a little deflated that, at the very least, he’d not been around to say hello.

And why should he want to waste his time just to say hello to you, Lilly? You were rough on him last night. Unreasonably so. The man isn’t Grant Winters. You shouldn’t be treating him like the man who broke your heart.

The voice in her head haunted her all the way back to Carson City and by the time she’d put in four hours of work in the emergency room she was still thinking about Rafe and the night before.

When things finally slowed enough for her to take her first break, she went to the snack room and pulled out her cell phone. She didn’t have Rafe’s personal number, but she had Bart’s. The elder Calhoun would no doubt pass his grandson’s number on to her. Even though Rafe had irked her with his trite advances, she should’ve reacted with more ladylike, respectable manners.

Bart answered after the second ring and after she quickly identified herself, he said, “Lilly, you don’t have to check up on me. I’m exercising my hand right this minute.”

“I’m not checking up, Bart. I trust you completely. I’m calling to ask a favor. Could you possibly give me Rafe’s cell-phone number?”

Even though the man couldn’t see her, she could feel a blush wash over her face. Silly, silly Lilly, she scolded herself.

“Sure can. Just give me a minute to find the little book where I keep all my names and numbers.”

Several moments passed while she could hear papers being shuffled and a drawer being opened and closed. Finally, he came back to the phone. “Here it is, Lilly. But before I give it to you, can I ask why you want my grandson’s number? You’re not planning to discuss me behind my back, are you?”

Lilly laughed at that idea. “No, Bart. I promise that whatever I need to say to you, I’ll say it right to your face.”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t aware that you were acquainted with Rafe.”

“We’ve—uh—spent a little time together.”

He grunted with disapproval. “Aw, Lilly. That boy isn’t for you. He’s naughty. He’s got too much of me in him. Understand?”

The fact that Bart cared enough about her to give her the simple warning was enough to make her smile. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. I just need to give him a message, that’s all.”

“Okay. I won’t preach at you anymore.”

He gave her the number and after scratching it down on a small square of paper, Lilly thanked him, then quickly ended the call.

“Hey, got anything in here to eat?”

Lilly stuffed the piece of paper with the number into the pocket on her white uniform just as Marcella, a fellow E.R. nurse, walked into the small snack room.

“I’ve not even had time to get coffee, much less something to eat,” Lilly told her. “I put a sandwich in the fridge if you want half of it.”

The tall, auburn-haired woman shook her head as she walked over to the coffee machine and filled a foam cup. “I was just kidding. I splurged this morning and stopped at the bakery. I’ll have to starve myself for the rest of the day just to make up for the apple fritter I devoured.”

Marcella was in her early thirties, divorced and the mother of a five-year-old son. She was an excellent nurse and one of the few good friends that Lilly could always count on.

“Don’t be starving yourself,” Lilly scolded her. “There’s enough sick people around here without us having to scrape you off the floor. Besides, you always look great.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Marcella teased. “You must want me to work a shift for you.”

“No. Just being honest.” She rose from the table to pour herself a cup of coffee. “But it would be nice to have a whole week off. I can’t remember the last time I got six hours of sleep.”

Frowning thoughtfully, Marcella said, “I thought you were off last night.”

Lilly stared into her coffee cup. “I was. But I went on a date.”

Marcella gasped. “A date! My Lord, knock a board off the house!”

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Lilly looked up to see Marcella’s mouth gaping open. “Just hush. You’re making me sound like a freak or something.”

Marcella jerked one of the metal chairs from beneath the table and sank onto the edge. “Tell me. Who? Why? Where?”

Lilly sipped her coffee more as a stalling tactic than a desire for more of the half-burned brew. “Rafe Calhoun took me to the Sierra Chateau for dinner. That’s all.”

If Marcella had looked surprised a moment ago, she looked completely stunned now. “That’s all! How did this happen?”

With a negligible shrug, Lilly said, “We met on the ranch while I was there for Bart’s therapy session. He asked me for a date and I accepted. It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing. Nothing is going to come of it. I can assure you of that.”

“Really? What makes you so certain nothing will come of it?”

Grimacing, she tossed the remainder of her coffee in a trash bin. “Because I’ve already made it clear to him that one date was all I would agree to. Anyway, he’s not into serious, Marcella. Besides, he’s a Calhoun. Even if he was looking for a wife, he wouldn’t search among simple, hardworking women like me.”