Her Forever Cowboy (3 page)

Now Applegate looked from him to his truck. “We kin follow you ta Susan's and brang you back if ya need us to.”

Cole shook his head and packed up his last few things. “Thanks, but no need. I've got it covered.” He figured if Susan wasn't making any calls out this direction, he'd have Seth drive to Ranger and pick him up.

After only a bit of cajoling, the tires found grip and he drove out of the ditch. App and Stanley waved him on as he headed toward Ranger—looking in his rearview, he saw them hop in their trucks and head toward town. They were driving at a fast clip; no doubt about it, everyone was about to know about last night….

Susan didn't like to show weakness, it was obvious. Was that what was driving her crazy attitude last night?

Not that he thought some determination in a woman wasn't a good thing. Before he could pull back, his thoughts went to Lori. She'd been full of determination, too; if it hadn't been for that grit she wouldn't have made it as long as she had…Six years and he still couldn't think about that sweet girl without his gut twisting up like a bull had stomped him. And just like he always did, he shoved the thoughts of her back into the dark shadows and forced all the trapped emotions down with them.

He focused instead on Susan Worth.

The woman had been careless last night and almost killed herself. It bothered him that she was so obsessed with her job that she'd take her life for granted…when others fought so hard for one more breath.

Stop it.
It usually took at least a couple of weeks in one spot before restless memories drove him to move on. He'd been home less than five hours and already he was fighting with the past. Home was always the worst. It was easier to pretend things like home and hearth didn't matter when you didn't have them staring you in the face.

Wyatt better show up soon or Cole was out of here. His brothers knew he'd fallen in love with a terminally ill barrel racer.

But they'd never met Lori. She'd been more ill than he'd realized when he first met her and that had prevented any travel. She had tried hard not to fall for him—to prevent the hurt something like that could cause. She'd tried hard to ignore what he'd known from the moment he'd laid eyes on her sweet face…love didn't have a perfect timetable. It happened even while a person was dying…love was brutal that way. And special.

As long as he was on the road, working to help folks, he did all right and actually enjoyed his life. When the restless memories threatened, he finished up what he was doing and headed out to find a new job—a new project.

And the recent turn of bad luck on the Gulf of Mexico had given him plenty of choices. Helping rebuild something a hurricane or a tornado had taken away from a family gave him a good feeling. It also helped the anger at God that plagued him…he tried not to dwell on it, and he wasn't going to now. Only, coming back to Mule Hollow was coming home…the place he'd longed to bring Lori. Home reminded him too much of how bad God's timing was and how He seemed
to pick and choose who He deemed good enough to get a miracle. Or who didn't.

Who got their prayers answered…and who didn't.

Home was where you brought the one you loved…unless you weren't one of the special ones who God shined His light on and listened to.

S
usan was standing out front with a tiny, blue-haired woman and a large dog that resembled a chocolate Lab but was shaped more like a big, brown, chocolate kiss…or a gigantic tick.

Susan was far more attention-worthy than the dog, with the morning sun glinting off her corn-silk hair. But even her beautiful hair didn't compare to the smile on her face—that smile startled him so bad he ran over a curb while pulling into the parking lot.

Yup, he was the one who needed rest now. It would help him get his head back on straight—a few hours of shut-eye had sure helped the prickly vet. No doubt about that…no doubt at all.

It wasn't just the softening of the dark circles, but she was smiling—he hadn't even got a hint of one of those last night. Though he didn't figure that was totally due to lack of sleep.

“Good morning.” He got out of the truck and moved
toward the women, who had been staring at him ever since he'd jumped the curb.

Susan crossed her arms and nodded—the smile gone in a flash.

But the little old lady had one big enough for the both of them. “Well, one thing's the truth, my mornin' just got better thanks to you, young man.” She gave him the once-over. “My goodness, but you are a handsome fellow. Just in the nick of time, too. Bein' timely is important. Don't you think?”

“Yes, ma'am, real important—”

“Good. Good.” She broke him off with a wave of her cane. “I like you—I like this one, Susan.” She shot Susan a sharp eye then gave him a soft smile. “Would you mind terribly, helping Catherine Elizabeth into her car seat? Arthur, the scamp, is acting up today—been giving me and my Catherine Elizabeth both a run for our money. But
you
—” she smiled up at him, her cloudy blue eyes shining as she grabbed hold of his bicep and squeezed like she might check the ripeness of a grapefruit “—you look like you're in plenty good shape, so the old bully won't bother you. No
sirree,
he won't.”

Cole looked around for Arthur with every intention of setting the so-called bully straight. He wouldn't stand by and let a man mistreat the little lady. But there wasn't anyone else around. He glanced at Susan for some kind of hint and saw that she was biting back a smile. And amazing enough her eyes were twinkling—he lost his train of thought.

“Mrs. Abernathy, may I introduce Cole Turner,” she
said rather loudly. “He's the one who came to my rescue last night. Cole, this is Mrs. Abernathy and
this
is the one and only Catherine Elizabeth.”

Mrs. Abernathy was still holding on to his bicep with her tiny hand and gazing up at him sweetly. Catherine Elizabeth had managed to lift to her feet and lumbered over to him. She sank onto his boot like a melting blob of ice cream.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, ma'am,” Cole said. “And Catherine Elizabeth, too.” He glanced around again for Arthur but no man had come out of the building. They all were looking at him expectantly—waiting. “Oh, sorry, you want me to load the dog into the car?”

“Thank you. She's just too much for me. But not you.” She rubbed his arm. “You remind me of my Herman—God rest his soul. He was tall and strong, too. I'm glad Susan's found a young man like you.”

“Mrs. Abernathy,” Susan interjected, “he's not my, um, young man.”

Mrs. Abernathy patted his arm. “Well, he should be, dear. You need a strong man, since you're such a darling, strong woman yourself. I, too, was a strong woman.”

It was Cole's turn to bite back a smile. The woman wasn't even five foot and probably had never weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet in her entire life.

She gave him a knowing look. “There's more to being strong than size, young man. Arthur's just beat me down a bit through the years and I have to admit it weighs on me…makes even my strong spirit weak at times.”

Cole shot Susan an inquiring glance. “Who is that?” he mouthed over the little lady's head.

“Ohh,”
Susan gasped. “Sorry. Mrs. A., as we affectionately call her, and Catherine Elizabeth both suffer from Arthur-itis.”

Mrs. A. shook her head. “He's a mean one, that Arthur. But the good Lord puts such nice men in my path to help out in times such as these.” She let go of his arm and, leaning on her cane, she walked carefully to her car.

Watching her slow progress, Cole agreed that Arthur was a real bummer. “Will it hurt when I pick her up?” he asked Susan, staring down at the dog.

“Just be careful and she'll be okay. But don't throw your back out or anything.” The last part was soft so that Mrs. Abernathy couldn't hear.

He almost laughed as he leaned down for the dog. Who did she think he was? Some kind of wimp?

“I mean it—lift from the knees,” Susan said, bending over to whisper the words close to his ear.

The warmth of her breath tickled his skin and sent a shiver of awareness rippling over him. He chuckled, both from the humor in the warning and the shock of her warm breath on his skin, then he lifted—
whhoa!
The dog was deadweight.

Susan slapped him on the back. “Told you lift with the knees.”

“No kiddin'.” Sending her a good-natured scowl, he then gave it a fortified effort. It felt as if he was hauling a bag of lard into his arms. “
What
does she feed this
horse?” he muttered for Susan's ears only. She chuckled and Catherine Elizabeth promptly gave him a big ole lick across the jaw, as if telling him not to worry.

“Oh, look, my baby likes you,” Mrs. Abernathy called as she swung the door open wide.

“Seems that way,” he grunted. Reaching the car, he leaned in and placed the dog gently into the backseat. She immediately settled into a spot worn into the imprint of her body.

“Can I help you?” He held out one hand to Mrs. Abernathy after gently closing the door on that…dog.

Mrs. Abernathy batted her eyes at him and blushed. “You are such a catch, young man.” She slipped her hand into his. She looked at Susan. “If you were smart you'd snatch this one up before someone else puts a ring on that blank finger of his.”

Susan surprised him by not looking insulted at the notion. Instead she smiled patiently at her client. “You take care now. And call me if Catherine Elizabeth gets uncomfortable. That extra dose of meds should help her.”

“Thank you, dear,” the tiny lady said and eased behind the steering wheel. “You,” she said, squeezing his hand before releasing it, “have made my old heart's day!”

“And you have made mine,” he said. “You be careful.”

She gave him a mischievous smirk. “What fun would that be? Bye now.”

He laughed and moved out of her way to stand beside Susan. They watched as the big Crown Victoria eased out of the drive. Mrs. Aberathy's little blue head could barely be seen over the dash and was totally hidden from behind.

“How does she drive a car that big?”

Susan laughed. “Carefully.”

“Thank goodness. I half expected her to blast out of here on two wheels.”

Susan beamed. “There was probably a day when she did exactly that. Arthur's put a damper on that, I'm afraid.”

“Not on her spirit, though, I can see,” he said, suddenly feeling rascally himself. “So, you gonna take her advice and marry me before someone else does?”

 

He was kidding. Susan knew he was, but the question took her completely by surprise. “Of course,” she said, turning to face him. “I've been waiting on you my whole life,” she teased back, momentarily letting her guard down.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his no-way-should-he-be-so-handsome face and his eyes lit with mischief. “You did a joke. Sleep agrees with you, Miss Worth.”

She laughed. “I guess it does. But don't go rubbing it in or I'll have to hurt you,” she said, before she thought about what a bad idea it was. And it was. She glanced away, toward her truck, taking a breath to settle the strumming of her heart. “Thanks for bringing my truck back.” She headed inside the clinic before she got herself into trouble. The scrape of his boots on the wooden porch said he was following her. “I'm assuming you aren't still holding it hostage and you're actually going to hand the keys over to me.”

His low rumble of laughter had her moving faster to get inside and behind the counter. She needed a barrier
between them—she'd enjoyed watching him with Mrs. Abernathy and Catherine Elizabeth a little too much. The man was a charmer.

And
bossy
, she reminded herself.

And
a rover with no concept of responsibility…
not a man for her
.

“Truck's all yours,” he said, leaning a hip against the counter. “It checked out good. No undercarriage damage at all. Just a whole herd of dirt clods. The only bad working part it had last night was a worn-out driver who needs to take better care of herself.”

And here we go again! “I was tired,” she snapped, letting the pencil she'd picked up fall to the desk. “It happens. Can we drop that?” Of course her anger was welcome because it helped put that much-needed barrier back up.

He cocked a brow and his gaze dropped to the pencil she'd just dropped. He picked it up, then as he studied her, balanced it on his upper lip as a schoolboy might do.
Sigh.
The man looked entirely too cute…and was probably well aware of it. She tapped her boot.

“Well,” she snapped again, “are you going to drop it?”

“Nope,” he said, causing the pencil to fall. He caught it without looking. “Not unless you admit that you should have taken your safety into consideration. That sleep you got last night did you a world of good, didn't it?”

She'd slept like a rock for four hours, but boy, she hated admitting it to him. “If you must know,” she huffed, “Mrs. A. had to knock on my door and wake me up this morning.”

“All right! Hit me with five,” he whooped and held up his palm. “That's good.”

She ignored the invitation. “I don't like oversleeping.”

He wiggled his fingers. “C'mon. Hit me with some love.”

Huh?
“No! Would you stop?”

He shook his head, reached across the counter and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. His touch was gentle and as the slightly rough pads of his fingers slid across her skin she shivered. Startled by his actions and her reaction she started to pull away, but he held firm and laid her palm against his.

“There, that wasn't so hard,” he said. “You need to loosen up, Susan Worth.”

Tugging free of his grasp, she hoped she wasn't pink and that she didn't look as shaken as she felt. “You need to mind your own business,” she ordered.

He slapped his hand to his chest. “Wow, what a blow. And after all I've done for you.”

“Look,” she offered, needing to get him gone. The sooner he was out of her hair the better off she'd be. “I've got a couple more patients to see this morning and then I'm heading out to Clint Matlock's ranch for the rest of the afternoon. I could give you a ride back, but not before then. Unless, of course, you've already arranged a ride.” Something told her she wouldn't be so lucky.

“Thanks. I'll wait for you. Unless you need me to hoist more obese dogs into cars—I hope all your clients aren't that large.”

Despite herself, a smile tugged at her lips. “I've given
up trying to get Catherine Elizabeth on a diet. Mrs. A. has no one else to cook for, and from what I understand, Herman loved to eat. So she can't help but spoil poor Catherine Elizabeth.”

Cole did a biceps curl, flexing his muscle for her. “She liked my guns. How about you? I mean, since you have agreed to marry me, what do you think?”

She grunted. “I think you need to go sit down and read a magazine.”

“Yup. Just as I thought. You are sidestepping the question because you agree with Mrs. A.”

Oh, she agreed—the man had some muscles. Probably from all that construction work he did. But she wasn't about to tell him.

She was relieved when the sound of a motor drew her to glance out the window at the truck pulling up outside. She sent up a silent word of thanks that she could get to work and hopefully get her head straightened out…because it was playing in dangerous waters at the moment. She was moving to Mule Hollow for more reasons than her work. She was moving there with the intention of making room in her life for a husband. That meant flirting with inappropriate men, like Cole, was out of the question.

Now, she thought as she met Cole's watchful stare, if only God would suddenly zap the handsome rover back to wherever it was he'd been before he'd ridden into town last night, she'd be one happy gal.

A man like Cole was not hard to read. He had no plans to settle down; it was all about his job—a job he
loved. The ranch he owned with his two brothers had started out as a stagecoach stop—Cole's roots ran six generations deep and yet of the Turner men, including a first cousin who had also been a groomsman in Seth's wedding, Seth was the only one who'd actually stayed true to those roots by keeping the ranch going.