Trusting the Cowboy (13 page)

A small thrill shivered down Lauren’s spine. “I think I agree with you.”

A few minutes later they were walking out of the restaurant across the darkened parking lot. The sun had set and the overhead lights cast captivating shadows.

They got to his truck, but before he opened the door, Vic pulled her into his arms, his hand cradling the back of her head. “You’re a special person, Lauren McCauley,” he said, his voice all husky.

Lauren slipped her hands around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. Then they drew closer, their lips meeting in a warm, tender kiss.

They pulled back after a few moments, looking into each other’s eyes.

“I’m glad we did this,” Vic said. “Took some time for just the two of us.”

“I think we’ll have to do it again.”

“Are you going to church tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes.” She smiled at the thought. “It’s been a while since I’ve attended regularly, but I liked going last week.”

“You mean you didn’t always enjoy it?”

Lauren gave him a look of regret. “We went with my father because it was expected, which created some resentment.”

“But you’ll be coming tomorrow?”

“Yes. I will.”

“Would you like to go out on a picnic? After church?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Lauren smiled at him and contentedly laid her head on his shoulder, her arm slipping around him as she held him close. This felt so right, she thought, her head resting on the warmth of his chest, possibilities dancing through her mind. Tentative plans. Hopeful dreams.

You thought the same about Harvey. And you were engaged to him for four years. Can you trust this guy?

The insidious voice was like a serpent, wriggling into the moment. Lauren tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t get rid of it completely. And as she drew back, looking into Vic’s face, she felt torn. Confused.

Emotions she didn’t want in her life.

Certainty and solidity. That’s what she was looking for.

Could Vic give that to her?

She wished she could be sure.

Chapter Eleven

“T
hat was delicious,” Lauren said, wiping her mouth with her napkin, then folding it up and setting it on the paper plate.

“You do realize that’ll get thrown away,” Vic teased her, leaning back on one elbow beside her. He twirled a blade of grass between his fingers, a feeling of utter contentment washing over him.

They had come back to his place after church and he had packed up the truck and driven to a spot where he, his father, Dean and Finn used to go.

Few people knew about it, even though it was on Bureau of Land Management land. He wanted Lauren to see it. To fall in love with the land.

To change her mind about leaving?

He realized that if he were honest with himself, that was part of his reason. The other was he simply wanted to share with her something he enjoyed so much. To give her a small gift of peace.

“Force of habit,” she said, brushing her hair back from her face as she continued tidying up.

Vic let her work, watching her, enjoying this small taste of domesticity. She had taken off the gray blazer she had worn to church; the scarf she had around her neck lay in a silky puddle on top of it. The simple blue T-shirt she wore enhanced the blue of her eyes, and her jeans were a surprisingly casual touch.

“Oldest-child syndrome,” he teased, reaching over and running the blade of grass down her arm.

“Something you’re not suffering from right now.”

“I never had to do the dishes. Woman’s work.”

She grabbed the napkin package and bopped him on the head with it. He sat up, caught her arm and pulled him to her, dropping a kiss on her lips.

“You’re not playing fair,” she said.

“I didn’t know we were playing a game,” he returned, slipping his fingers through her hair.

“All of life is a game,” she intoned in a mock-serious voice.

“And it doesn’t matter if you win or lose—”

“It’s how you play the game,” she finished for him. “I wish more people played by the rules.”

Her comment came from nowhere and he wanted to challenge her on it. But she pulled away and put the garbage into a bag, then set it in the cooler they had packed the lunch in.

“Now that you’re done,” he said, getting to his feet, “I have something I want to show you.”

Lauren sat on her haunches, her head tilted to one side. “That sounds intriguing.”

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and she gave him a coy smile.

“Can I trust you?” she teased him.

He thought of what Jodie had told him. About her ex-fiancé.

And he grew suddenly serious.

“Always,” he said.

Her expression softened and her eyes were intent.

“You know, I believe I can.” She put her hand out and he pulled her up.

Vic led her out of the clearing over a narrow, worn path. Tree branches slapped at them and he pushed them aside best he could. A few bugs followed, buzzing around their head. That, the faint rushing of water and their footfalls on the packed dirt were the only sounds in the stillness surrounding them.

“I can’t get over how quiet it is up here,” Lauren said, her voice lowered as if in reverence.

“I don’t imagine you have much quiet living in the city.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Do you miss it yet? City living?”

She didn’t reply and he glanced back again to catch her looking at him. “No. I haven’t.” Then she gave him a smile, and the glimmer of hope that had been ignited when she sat down beside him in church this morning grew.

He wanted to ask if she would consider staying in Montana, but he was afraid to hear her answer.

They eased down the narrow trail and then, as the sound of rushing water grew louder, he led her out onto a large, flat rock. Droplets of moisture from the water tumbling down over large boulders cooled the air, the water it fell into roiling from the force. But then as it flowed away from them, it settled into a quiet, deeper pool.

“This looks like something out of a movie,” Lauren breathed, clinging to his hand.

“I spent a lot of happy times here,” he said.

She hugged her knees, looking pensive.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

“I was just remembering today’s sermon. How hard it can be to trust God and, even more, people, when trust has been broken.”

“Are you thinking of your fiancé?”

“Very much
ex
-fiancé,” she corrected, looking at him. “And not only him, but other men in my life.”

Vic felt a shiver of apprehension, but at the same time sensed they were slowly moving themselves to a place of trust. Much as he didn’t like to think of her with other guys, this had been her reality.

“I’ve heard the verse that Pastor Dykstra preached on before,” she said, resting her chin on her upraised knees. “But it seemed to hit home today.”

“‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding,’” Vic quoted from Proverbs.

“I’ve spent a lot of my life leaning on my own understanding,” Lauren said, her voice growing quiet, contemplative. “I always figured I was the one who had to be in charge.” She turned her head toward him, giving him a wry smile. “Always had a hard time accepting help, let alone asking for it.”

“I got that from the first moment we met.”

She granted him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about that. I was feeling uptight. Tend to feel that way around guys I’m attracted to.”

“That sounds encouraging.”

She grew serious again. “Harvey did a real number on me—you may as well know that. I was going to marry him. I had made a huge commitment to him. And he broke that trust.”

“Did he give you a reason for the breakup?”

Lauren released a harsh laugh. “He said he’d never really loved me. And, looking back, I believe that.”

“Did you love him?” As soon as he spoke, he wished he could take the words back. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know if she had. But more importantly, it wasn’t his business.

But it is your business. You care for her. You need to know what she’s dealing with.

“I thought I did. At first.” Her quiet words rested lightly in the air. “We were supposed to be business partners. And I think it got hard to separate the two relationships toward the end. We spent more time arguing about business than we did talking about wedding plans. I think I knew the truth, but I was too afraid to act on it. I figured he was my only chance. He was my first boyfriend. I’d never dated much before that. I didn’t think you could break up with a boyfriend, let alone a fiancé. I took the idea of being faithful very, very seriously.”

“I have a hard time believing he was your only boyfriend,” he said, brushing his fingers over her knuckles.

“It’s true. I was kind of uptight and smart and nerdy, and I took on the burden of caring for my sisters and grandmother. I was always mature for my age, and I think guys didn’t know what to do with that,” she said with a light shrug.

He leaned in and gave her a kiss. Then another. “Then I have a lot to make up for, don’t I?”

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “You’re a special guy, Vic Moore.”

Her comment was both encouraging and, if he were honest, not precisely what he hoped to hear.

Vic felt the precariousness of his own changing feelings. She was growing more and more important to him.

And he wanted her to know that.

So he kissed her again.

* * *

A shiver trickled down Lauren’s spine as Vic’s lips slowly left hers. Her lips grew cool and she wanted to kiss him again.

But she felt a warning niggling at her.

Men don’t put your needs first.

Even as she looked into Vic’s eyes, part of her sensed that this man was different.

She glanced down at her watch. She had promised Amy she would call her this afternoon. They needed to talk. Her plans for the future, which were once rock solid, had been shaken up by this man sitting next to her.

And she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Do you need to go?” Vic asked.

“Sorry. I have to make a few phone calls this afternoon.”

“Of course.” He gave her a careful smile and she wondered if he sensed what those phone calls would be about.

He got up and started walking toward the path. She hesitated, looking at the pool, how restful it was, and yet it was a result of the turbulence of the waterfall.

Please, Lord
, she prayed,
let me find my own place of rest. Help me to trust that You will watch over me and bring me where I should be.

The drive back to the ranch was silent. As if each of them was lost in their own thoughts.

But all the way there, Vic held her hand. They exchanged the occasional glance, reinforcing what was growing between them.

She couldn’t pass it off or ignore it anymore.

But she wasn’t ready to face it head-on, either. The thought of putting her life into any man’s hands... It made her tremble inside.

Lean not on your own understanding.

Could she trust God and believe, as the passage said, that He would direct her paths?

The thought of changing everything created a mixture of fear. But behind that lay an excitement and expectation she couldn’t deny.

But which one would win out? She was taking charge of her own life with this new business venture.

Was it worth it?

The question seemed to rock her crumbling certainty.

Help me, Lord
, she prayed.
I truly don’t know what to do.

“You okay?” Vic asked as he parked the truck beside her car. “You seem...pensive.”

“That’s a sensitive word for such a manly cowboy like you,” she teased, taking refuge in humor. Deflecting and retrenching.

“I know how to use the thesaurus app on my phone,” he said, his own tone light. Breezy.

She was comfortable with him in a way she’d never been with Harvey. And it was that, combined with her changing feelings for him, that was creating so much confusion in her life.

They got out of the truck. Lauren grabbed the blanket and Vic took the cooler. As they carried them up the walk to the house, Lauren looked past it to the corrals beyond.

“Is that Dean?” she asked.

Vic turned in the direction she was pointing, then abruptly stopped.

“That idiot is trying to get on that horse,” he said, dropping the cooler on the sidewalk. “He hasn’t tried to mount one on his own yet.”

Lauren set the blanket down on the cooler and followed Vic as he jogged around the house. He skirted the edge of his mother’s garden at the back of the house and headed to the corrals.

Just as Vic thought, Dean stood beside a horse that had already been saddled. His crutches leaned against the fence.

“Dean. Stop. Don’t,” Vic called out as he came closer.

Dean ignored him and, hobbling alongside the horse, led him to a box that stood by the fence.

“Let me help you,” Vic said, climbing over the fence.

“Leave me alone,” Dean called out. “I have to do this.”

Vic walked over to Dean just as Dean struggled to get on top of the box. The horse shifted away from Dean, turning his head as if to see what was happening.

“You’re distracting the horse,” Dean called out.

Lauren heard the anger in his voice. And something else she couldn’t identify. She was tempted to tell Vic to leave Dean alone, but she could also see from the way the horse was shifting around that Dean would need Vic’s help.

Vic caught the halter rope and, moving closer to the horse, managed to get it to move sideways.

“You can probably get on now,” Vic was saying.

But Dean didn’t move.

“Dean?” Vic said, frowning at his brother.

“Why do you always think you have to take care of me? Why are you always fixing everything?”

Dean carefully stepped off the box and tossed Vic the reins. “I don’t feel like riding now.”

“But it would be so good for you,” Vic said. “I think it’s great that you want to go riding. I can help you make it happen.”

Dean grabbed his crutches and fitted them under his arms. “I’m sure you can. But I need to do this on my own.” He shot Vic an angry look. “There are some things in life you just can’t fix.”

He limped through the gate, then past Lauren. He gave her a cursory look, added a tight nod and headed toward the house.

Vic patted the horse on the side and, without another word, turned it around and tied it back up. With quick, sure movements he undid the cinches, slipping the saddle and blanket off the horse in one movement.

A few moments later the horse was unbridled and released. It shook its head, then moved to the middle of the pen, lowered itself to the ground and then, with awkward and ungainly movements, began to roll.

In spite of the tension that still shivered through the air, Lauren had to smile at the undignified sight.

And, thankfully, so did Vic when he came back from the tack shed.

“You goof,” Vic said to the horse as he walked past it to open the gate. “You didn’t even get sweated up.”

“I’ve always wondered why they do that,” Lauren said as Vic returned to her and climbed over the fence. It seemed easier to discuss the horse than to address what had happened between him and his brother.

“It’s like scratching your back,” Vic said. “Feels good.”

The horse stood, shook off the dust, tossed its head at them and trotted off through the open gate to join the other horses.

Vic watched it a moment, his hands resting on the fence, then he looked over at Lauren. “Sorry about that. About Dean. I think he’s just...frustrated.”

Lauren nodded, acknowledging his comment but wondering if maybe Dean was right. She recognized the need to help. To jump in and try to fix. She had done it many times with her own sisters.

“You look like you’d like to say something more,” he said.

He was too astute.

“It’s okay,” he prompted. “I’ve got thick skin.”

“I’m an older sister and I know what you’re trying to do,” she said, choosing her words with care. “And it’s wonderful that you want to help him, but I think Dean was right. He needed to do this on his own.”