COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance (20 page)

“See you around,” he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful, then he pivoted and strode away from her.

***

Lacey watched Jared's figure until he disappeared from view around a bend in the path, identifying a wave of sadness flowing through her.

Too bad. Too bad our situations aren't different. It just wasn’t meant to be.

She would miss his company, she instantly realized, already wishing he was walking beside her as she started down the trail. She would miss him telling her about the bushes and trees and flowers along the trail.

Stop. He's everything you aren't looking for.
And the same was true for him. She wasn’t what he wanted or needed. They were at an impasse.

It was over…after one amazing night together. She would have to be happy with that.

Concentrating on her footing as she walked, Lacey pushed away all the thoughts and feelings that had anything to do with Jared. Instead, she listened to the sound of the wind as it swished through the leaves of the trees, pausing at mysterious rustling sounds in the underbrush, hoping to see some wildlife.

The piercing cry of a hawk grabbed Lacey's attention. She shaded her eyes as she peered into the treetops, searching for the bird. A shadow streaked past as she took a step forward.

“Where are you?” she said as she took another step forward—forward into air instead of the uneven stony trail.

As Lacey tumbled out of control, she yelped in surprise, falling heavily onto a large flat stone with one knee. Stabs of pain shot through her ankle as starbursts exploded behind her eyelids.

Chapter Fourteen

Jared made quick time between Lacey and the cabin. His jaws ached with the tension he felt.

Damn
. Why was it so hard to just stop thinking about her?

He entered the cabin and walked to the fireplace, putting the treasured pine cone on the mantel. He closed his eyes and rotated his neck, the restless night on the lumpy couch beginning to catch up with him. Suddenly forty felt older than he was willing to admit.

Damn
.

He stirred the fireplace, checking for signs of burning coals, then walked slowly through each room. Then he allowed a few dangerous memories to seep into his thoughts…seeing her in the big bathtub barely covered by the bubbles, her gentle care of his wound, her eyes by firelight, the feel of her silky hair against his chest when she was on top of him, how much he loved every curvy inch of her.

Pausing in the kitchenette, Jared stared back toward the fireplace, his gaze stopping at the sheepskin rug.

He had felt powerless against the passion he'd felt for her. His pulse quickened, remembering the feel of her skin against his, her fragrance, the taste of her, how her body molded to his.

And her lips. Their kisses had left his mouth burning with fire, and the velvet warmth of her response to him had been amazing.

They were good together.

Forget about her, he commanded himself, angrily turning away from the scene of the previous night's passion. Tight-lipped and jaws clenched, Jared grabbed his leather tote and stormed out of the cabin.

***

Lacey scooted herself off the flat piece of granite so she was sitting, instead, on a soft bed of pine needles adjacent to the trail. Her ankle had swollen to twice its normal size; the skin over the bone reddening, black and blue shades developing quickly.

Gingerly she touched the growing lump, wincing at the twinge of pain that followed. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration, knowing the fall wouldn't have happened if Jared had been along. He would have warned her of the sudden drop in the trail, and she would have taken his arm for support if she'd felt her feet slip on loose stones.

Jared
.

A loud fluttering in the treetops forced her to look away from her injured ankle. Directly above was the elusive hawk that had distracted her.

“Now you show up,” she said. “Where were you when my feet were firmly planted on the ground?”

The hawk tilted its head at the sound of her voice.
Cack-cack-cack
.

Startled at the bird's cry, Lacey took a quick sharp breath. “Calm down—I'm the one in trouble here.” She stared at the bird, trying to see it more clearly. “You're quite handsome, aren't you? Almost worth twisting my ankle over.”

The bird continued to look back at her.

Leaning back on her hands, she elevated her foot on a nearby boulder, hoping to lessen the painful throbbing. The hawk was a beautiful bird, brown and white breast feathers, slate blue wings.

Cack-cack-cack.

“You wouldn't feel like flying down the mountain and sending a certain cowboy in a pickup truck back to rescue me, would you?”

Cack-cack-cack
.

“Didn't think so,” she whispered, closing her eyes at a sudden jab of pain.

A tear threatened to escape from behind her now tightly closed eyes, and her throat ached with the undeniable feeling of defeat. She should have asked him to walk with her. It was that simple. His eyes had clearly betrayed his disappointment that she hadn’t, and she had chosen to ignore it.

The knowledge of her regret twisted and turned inside her. He was a nice guy.

But not for me.

And it certainly wasn't fair to lead him on, she rationalized. Their night together had been a mistake…a wonderful mistake, she admitted, but still a mistake. It had happened, and now it was over.

She sighed heavily, and a flash of loneliness stabbed at her. She already missed him, missed the his touch, missed how he made her feel.

Cack-cack-cack
.

She opened her eyes to see the hawk fly away.

Well, let's hope someone comes down this trail to rescue me.

***

Almost an hour into the drive home, Jared slapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.
Shoot
. In his angry haste to leave the cabin, he'd left Jamie's pine cone on the mantel and forgotten his guitar.

Lacey would probably see the guitar and take it home with her, he thought. He considered his options.

Glancing along the roadside at the pine cones scattered there, regrettably he knew it was against the law to take a pine cone from designated park land.

He'd have to go back. At the first turnout, he turned the pickup around and headed back to the cabin.

Would she be there? He couldn't help wondering…hoping. Maybe she'd be back from her walk and they could clear the troubled air between them. He hated how he felt. Too many unanswered questions.

Sure, she was young. And a career woman, he reminded himself. In fact, she'd made it crystal clear that her career was pretty much the most important thing in her life.

Just like Courtney.

And he certainly didn't need to learn that lesson again. His marriage had been a series of too many disappointments, too many arguments, too many regrets. The only bright moment had been Jamie.

Career women were alike, he maintained. They were serious about their promotions, the corporate bottom line, and how to finagle as much money from the public as possible to reach their sales goals or whatever.

And so were men who were ensconced in their careers. It didn’t matter, male or female. It was the same. Goals and objectives were important, and hers were simply incompatible with his. It was simple.

Forget her.

Jared shoved this thoughts aside as he turned into the driveway of the bed and breakfast and parked. As he neared the cabin he noticed a note tacked to the door, fluttering in the breeze.

Mr. Dillon: the Ranger took your lady friend down the mountain to Urgent Care. She said to leave a note, that you might be back for your guitar. We have it up at the house along with the rest of the things. ~Mrs. Miller.

His heart in his throat, Jared immediately considered the worst case scenario: mountain lion.

I shouldn't have left her alone on the trail.

Swearing, he tore the note from the door and ran toward the main house.

As Jared flung open the kitchen door, he saw Mrs. Miller was on the phone, gesturing for him to take the receiver.

“It's the doctor. Here, you talk to him.”

“Mr. Dillon?”

“Is she all right? What happened?” Fear and anger knotted painfully inside him. The muscles of his forearm hardened beneath his sleeve as he held the receiver in a death grip.

“Just a bad sprain,” the voice replied. “Right ankle. She'll need to keep off her feet for a couple days. No hiking for a while.”

A war of emotions raged within him—exasperation, relief, worry. Why did he care so much? It felt as though it had been Jamie who’d gotten hurt.

“Mr. Dillon?”

“Yes, I'm here.”

“Miss Murdock asked me to remind you about…a pine cone? Does that make sense?”

Jared smiled, sighed, and shook his head in disbelief. Jamie's pine cone. She'd remembered.

“Anyway, she's fine. A friend came to take her home. I've prescribed some pain pills that should help her sleep tonight. She should be much better in a couple days.”

“Thanks.” Jared held the receiver for a moment more, the dial tone buzzing in his ear.

Mrs. Miller touched his arm. “Good thing the Ranger found her on the trail.” There was a critical tone to her voice.

“I shouldn't have left her,” Jared confessed as he hung up the phone. “We had a…disagreement. She wanted to stay…but I still shouldn't have left her alone on the trail.”

Mrs. Miller clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Why don't you have a glass of my sun tea before you head down the mountain. There's really nothing you can do now. She's in good hands and it wasn't a serious injury.” She gently led him by his elbow to a chair at the table.

Jared sat and stared at the red-checked cloth, trying to force his confused emotions into order. His heart ached at the thought of Lacey falling on the trail…alone, hurt, unsure when help might arrive.

“Remember, it wasn't serious,” Mrs. Miller said, “and you shouldn't really blame yourself.”

Jared looked into his hostess' compassionate eyes. He cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. “The truth is, we hardly know each other—we've never…gone out or anything. We were given this Dream Date and went ahead with it because of the publicity for the charity.”

“I see. Well, you certainly had me fooled.” She filled his glass with ice, followed by dark-amber liquid and put a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table between them before she sat down.

Jared studied her face. “What do you mean?”

“There's a glow about people—people who come here. My husband thinks I'm loony, but I see it. I can tell…”

Jared nodded, encouraging her to explain.

“You two had that glow. It's that simple. I think it's there when people are supposed to be together. Now, maybe you two can just be friends, but my guess is that you feel more than that. Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged.

Jared stared at her. How could she know?

“Ah, I'm right. I can see it in your eyes.” She smiled knowingly. “My Andy and I knew we were supposed to be together pretty much right away. Engaged within a week of meeting each other.” Her voice grew wistful.

“How did you know?”

She peered into his eyes before answering. “My advice? Trust your feelings. Your heart won't steer you wrong. If you think about these things too much, you just might talk yourself out of something precious.”

Jared tore his gaze from hers.
It's my feelings that I don't trust.

“Well, I have all your things out on the porch for you, when you're ready to go. If you'll excuse me, I've got beds to change and cabins to clean.” She patted his hand in a motherly way. “You sit here as long as you want.”

Jared barely noticed the soft slamming of the screen door as Mrs. Miller left to complete her chores.

Now what? He felt lost. Unsettled. Essentially, he was the most uncomfortable with the grain of truth in Mrs. Miller's words.

She was right. He didn't want friendship. He wanted more. He wanted Lacey. The very thought aroused old fears and uncertainties, but he considered the woman's words very carefully.

Pushing his chair away from the table, Jared strode out to the porch. Lacey's suitcase sat next to his guitar case, the pine cone in a plastic grocery sack on the floor.

Look out, Lacey, here I come.

Chapter Fifteen

Jared parked his truck at the curb in front of Lacey's apartment building.

What would he say to her? Suddenly he wasn't precisely sure what he wanted to accomplish, his will to resolve the conflict between them melting away with every minute that passed. His self-confidence had dwindled to next to nothing.