Colton: Rodeo Cowboy, page 2
They passed by a table with some people Colt knew, a mixture of guys and women about their age. Leah didn’t recognize any faces, but they sure knew Colt.
“Hey, buddy, come and join us,” said a dark-haired cowboy, with a nose that had once been very badly broken. “Bring your pretty new friend, too.”
Colt waved him off. “Another night, Darcy. Leah and me—we’ve got business to attend to.”
Everyone at the table hooted at that and Leah could feel herself blushing as a result. What was up with that? She was not the sort of woman who blushed—was she? But then, it had been a long time since she’d been the focus of this sort of attention. When you normally had a toddler and a preschooler in tow, men tended to keep a polite distance.
The dartboard was at the back of the bar. A throwing line had been etched onto the wooden floor a little less than eight feet away from the board. Colt placed the darts on a nearby table, and they were soon joined by the beer and shooters that they’d ordered.
He took a long drink of the ale then handed her a dart. “Ladies first. Want to play down from 501?”
“Make it 301.” Leah removed her light sweater and hung it carefully on the back of her stool. Then she studied the board, trying to decide what strategy to use. In her younger, rodeoing years, she’d spent so much time in bars that she’d been damn near perfect at this game. But now she figured she’d be lucky to hit the bull’s-eye. So she took aim, threw…and missed her target by a fraction of an inch. Just enough for the dart to hit a wire and bounce, uselessly, to the floor.
“Out of practice?” Colt asked, his voice all innocent concern.
At a lot of things, Leah thought. Not the least of which was hanging out with an attractive man who was focusing all his attention on her. Not that Colt was hitting on her, or anything. They’d been friends too long for that. But there was a light in his eyes that told her he found her desirable. And that was more than a little distracting for a woman who had spent the past five years mashing baby food and changing diapers.
The kids were past that stage now, thankfully. But looking after them still took the majority of her time.
“So what brings you back to Roundup? Visiting your mom?” Colt took the next dart and went to line up.
He couldn’t know how good he looked, standing there. No man wore a pair of Wranglers quite like Colt. How was she supposed to concentrate on their conversation?
Focus, Leah.
“I’m, uh, not visiting. I’ve moved here. Planning to start my own business.”
He’d raised his arm to throw the dart, but went still at her news. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been staying at Mom’s for the past few weeks, but tomorrow I move into a house I rented on Timberline Drive.”
“Timberline Drive…” A slight frown appeared on his brow. “Is that off Mine Road, near the river?”
“That’s it. I got a great deal on the rent. Thankfully it’s a lot cheaper to live here than it was in Calgary.” She took a drink as Colt turned to the board and threw his dart. Damn thing landed in the outer bull. Clearly Colt wasn’t out of practice.
“Nice shot.” She tried not to sound grudging.
“By the way, I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to tell you I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”
“Thank you.” She appreciated Colt’s condolences even though more than five years had gone by. The heart attack had been unexpected, but according to the family doctor, at least her father’s death had been quick, without time for suffering. After, Leah’s mother hadn’t had the grit—or the family support—to carry on ranching the way Colt’s mother, Sarah Hart, had done after Colt’s father’s death ten years ago. Prue Stockton had sold their small property within six months, along with the cattle and the few horses they still had around the place—which included Country Girl, Leah’s old barrel racing horse.
Leah picked up her second dart. Focusing on the task at hand was what won her prize money when she competed at rodeos. Now she stared at the dartboard with the same intensity, blanking out the bar, the noise, Colt’s presence…
To hell with the bull’s-eye. She aimed for the sweet spot in the twentieth section, and let out a whoop when her dart landed perfectly in the thin inner portion between the red and green circles.
Colt raised his glass, toasting her success. She joined him at the table, touching her bottle to his, basking in the warmth of his smile. He seemed genuinely glad that she’d done well. Colt wasn’t one of those guys who hated losing to a woman. He wasn’t a bad loser, period. She’d never seen him so much as throw his hat into the dirt after a bad ride on a bunking bronc.
“Maybe I should concede, after all,” he said.
Not at all sure how she would follow up that last, lucky throw, she was quick to agree. “Let’s just talk for a while.” She took a swallow of beer. “What have you been up to in the last six years?”
“It’s been sort of a blur,” he admitted. “A lot of time on the road, traveling from rodeo to rodeo.”
“Had much success?”
“A little.”
She knew what a talented athlete he was in the rodeo arena, yet he wasn’t bragging. “Come on. You’ve finalled in the NFR about eight years straight, haven’t you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I still don’t have a world championship. Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t want it bad enough.”
His answer surprised her. The Colt she remembered from high school and the rodeo arena didn’t spend a lot of time on introspection. “Rodeo life isn’t easy. Maybe you’re tired.”
He forced a smile. “I can’t afford to be. Those purses pay my bills.”
“But you work on Thunder Ranch as well, don’t you?” And surely his mother paid him a salary for that.
“Not as much as my family would like. But enough about me.” He touched the sleeve of her shirt. “I see you still favor purple.”
“Lavender,” she corrected, pleased that he’d remembered her rodeo colors. She’d packed away the purple cowboy boots and hat, but she still liked to wear her Western shirts.
“It’s a good shade for you. Not quite the same color as your eyes. But it makes them stand out, all the same.”
Leah had been fed glib lines about her eyes before. Lots of times. But Colt’s comment didn’t sound superficial. And there was nothing trite about the way he was smiling at her, in a soft and wondering way.
Possibly there were depths to this cowboy that she hadn’t appreciated in the past. “And you still favor red.” She touched his arm this time, under the guise of checking out the soft, chambray fabric. But really it was the rock-hard muscles of the male who was wearing the shirt that impressed her.
Colt sandwiched her hand with his. “That feels nice. Your hand on my arm.”
She had to admit it did. More than just nice. Colt was different than she remembered and not just in appearance. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had gone through some hard times and matured these past few years.
“Leah—I just want to be real clear on one point. You’re not married anymore, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Good. I’ve never kissed a married woman before and I was hoping this wasn’t going to be the exception.”
Chapter Two
Colt didn’t make a habit of kissing women in public places, either. Generally, he was pretty circumspect when it came to matters of the libido. But this was different. Leah Stockton was different. How could you fall in love at first sight with someone you’d known all your life?
But the pretty woman sitting at the bar had caught his eye as soon as he walked into the Open Range Saloon. Her long dark hair and tall, slim body were part of the appeal, but even more was the way she sat on her stool, with saddle-perfect posture, her body relaxed and yet confident and poised for action.
He’d headed straight for her. And then he’d heard her voice as she spoke to the bartender and he’d stopped to listen.
He knew her.
A few seconds later, he had the darts in his hand, ready to issue his challenge. But it wasn’t until she looked him in the eyes that it really hit him.
Holy shit, she was a stunner. He’d known Leah since they were kids and yet, somehow, this truth had never sunk in before. Or maybe the passing years had changed her in some subtle, yet earth-shattering way.
Just five minutes into their conversation, it occurred to him that Leah might be the answer to a question he hadn’t been smart enough to ask yet. Being unfocused and aimless in your twenties wasn’t such a bad thing. Once you hit thirty, though, your sense of time shifted.
Years went by faster.
You understood that opportunities were either seized, or rarely encountered again.
He wanted to seize. And Leah’s eyes told him she was willing. As he leaned toward her, she met him halfway, and when their mouths connected, he stopped thinking, because everything felt so natural and right. This woman made him melt and burn at the same time, and his body felt stirred with a primal, yet mind-
blowing intensity.
“We have to leave,” he told her.
“Yes.”
He left money on the table, next to the drinks they hadn’t quite finished. If any of his friends were watching, no one was foolish enough to say anything to him. He felt as if he would have to punch anyone who caused them even a second’s delay in getting out of there.
The night air was cool and refreshing after the rain, but it didn’t dampen in the slightest his desire to take this woman someplace quiet and private. Leah stumbled slightly as they crossed the street, and he pulled her up closer beside him. Thank God this was Roundup, and there was no traffic, because he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, right there, in the middle of the street.
Her slender body formed perfectly against his bigger, harder one. He felt her fingers in his hair, her breath on his mouth. He filled his own hands with the curves of her butt, pulling her closer, nuzzling her neck, her collarbone, the silky lobe of her ear.
“Where?” Even his whisper came out sounding hoarse.
“I don’t know.”
“Can I take you back to my trailer?”
Her lips were against his ear now and he could hear her sigh. “I wish—but no. That won’t work.”
“Then…?” His mind raced as he tried to think of a suitable place to make love with this beautiful woman. But before he could come up with a solution, she was sighing again.
“You’d better walk me home, Colt. To my mother’s place.”
Not the answer he’d been hoping for. But maybe, if they were quiet, they could sneak into Leah’s bedroom without waking Prue Stockton. Leah was an adult, after all, and he was someone she’d known most of her life.
Leah slipped out of his arms, turned, then stumbled again. “Oops!”
Her giggle was infectious and he had to smile, too, even as he wondered just how much she’d had to drink before he’d shown up at the bar. “Careful, darlin’. Here, let me help you.”
He asked for her mother’s address, then hand-in-hand they walked the four blocks. He savored each moment with her, his heart full-to-bursting with an emotion he’d never experienced before. He could feel the smile on his face getting bigger each time he looked at her. Even tipsy, Leah had a confident, athletic gait. At the same time she was undeniably female….
“Here we are.” Leah stopped at a Victorian-styled two-story several blocks south of the high school. The house was dark, except for a small exterior lantern to the side of the front door. Two vehicles were parked under the carport to the left of the house—a modest sedan and a Ford truck. The back of the truck was loaded with furniture and boxes.
“The truck yours?”
“You bet.”
“Nice.” He’d never dated a woman who drove a truck before. Seemed like another good sign to him. He held Leah’s hand as they climbed the steps up the porch, then waited as she opened the unlocked front door.
She gave him a smile. “Good night, Colt.”
“To hell with that.” He pulled her in for another kiss, savoring the softness of her lips, the sweet scent of her hair. Cupping the sides of her face, he pressed the tip of her nose to his. “How about inviting me in, darlin’? I’ll make pancakes for your mama in the morning. Win her over with my charm.”
This didn’t elicit the smile he expected. Instead, Leah frowned. “Those would have to be mighty special pancakes, Colt. My mom doesn’t impress easily. Besides, it would be too confusing for Jill and Davey. I haven’t dated anyone since I divorced their father.”
Suddenly dizzy, Colt put a hand to the wooden railing by the door. “Jill and Davey?”
“My children.” Leah looked at him as if he had a screw loose. “You knew about them, right?”
Bloody hell didn’t. Colt opened his mouth, not sure what to say. “How old are they?”
“Davey is two, Jill five.”
Leah crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. Colt knew his reaction was upsetting her, yet he couldn’t seem to get his breathing under control or his mind to work properly. He was just so blown away by all of this. How was it that no one—not a family member, or a friend—had mentioned that Leah Stockton had children?
“You’re doing the math, aren’t you?” Leah finally said. “But I’m not ashamed of the fact that I married Jackson because I was pregnant. It was the right thing to do. As it turned out, we couldn’t make the relationship work, but at least I tried.”
Oh, God. Stop talking, Leah. He didn’t want to hear this. Not any of it.
“You’re right. Pancakes were a very bad idea.” He took a step away from the door, away from her.
“Colt?”
“I should get going.” The chill in the air cut through his shirt and the night sky seemed very bleak all of a sudden.
“You’re leaving? Just like that?”
He took another step away. Dinah had said something similar to him, only that afternoon. Badly timed exits were becoming something of a pattern in his life. Colt raised his hat to Leah. In the cold light of day she would be grateful the evening had ended this way.
* * *
“I WISH YOU WEREN’T so set on moving out.” Prue Stockton, in a pressed housedress with her hair neatly combed, stood at the kitchen counter, dipping homemade bread into her own special egg concoction for French toast.
The sight reminded Leah of Colt’s pancake offer of the previous night. An offer he’d backed away from promptly, when he heard about her kids.
Leah took a mug from the counter, filled it with water, which she forced herself to drink, then refilled it with coffee from the carafe on the counter. She didn’t begrudge the pain pulsing in her skull—it seemed fair retribution for the mistakes she’d made last night.
Getting tipsy at the Open Range Saloon and picking up a cowboy was not acceptable behavior for the mother of two small children. She was just thankful that her mother knew none of this.
“I’m thirty-two years old. Don’t you think that’s too old to be living with my mother?”
“Living with your husband is where you ought to be.” Her mom shot her a hard look, then returned her focus to her cooking. “But let’s not get into that argument again.”
“Let’s not,” Leah agreed. They had other things to fight about today. Starting with the house she’d rented.
“It won’t be easy raising two children on your own. And I have lots of room here.”
“I’ve already signed a one-year lease, Mom, so I’m committed.” Leah opened the dishwasher, intending to unload the dinner dishes from yesterday, but her mother had beaten her to it. She decided to set the breakfast table instead.
“Think of the money you could have saved.”
Her mother was nothing if not persistent.
“I’m okay for money, Mom. Jackson and I had quite a bit of equity in the house we sold in Calgary.” Leah set out the blue-and-white dishes that had been in her family for as long as she could remember. “He’s making monthly support payments for the kids, and once I get a few bookkeeping clients, I’ll be fine.”
“What are you going to do for furniture?”
Leah had brought the kids’ beds and all their toys from Calgary. Added to that their clothing and other personal effects, she hadn’t had room in the back of her truck for anything else.
She knew her mother had some of the furniture from the old guesthouse on the farm stored in her basement. At one time her grandmother had lived in the small cottage. After she passed on, her mother used the extra room for putting up guests and the occasional farmhand her dad hired during seeding and harvest times.
“I was wondering if I could borrow the bed and sofa from our old guesthouse?”
She half expected her mother to say no. But Prue Stockton wasn’t a mean woman. “You may have them, Leah, if you’re truly set on moving out. There’s a rattan table and four chairs that you’re welcome to as well.”
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.”
Prue sighed. “Better wake the children. Breakfast is just about ready.”
Leah headed for the stairs to do as told. Her mother was right about one thing. She did have lots of room in this house. There were four bedrooms and a large bathroom on the upper story. Leah thought it was strange that her mother had moved into such a large place. But maybe a smaller bungalow had been too much of a shock after the sprawling farmhouse Prue had managed for almost thirty years.
Upstairs, Leah peered into the first door on the left, and wasn’t surprised to find Jill’s bed empty. She found the little girl in her brother’s room. She and Davey were sleeping side by side in the single bed, snuggly enclosed by the safety bars that Leah had brought from home.
Leah could never wake her children without first taking a moment to appreciate their sweet little faces in repose. They both had her dark hair and long, thick eyelashes. After a long, cold winter in Calgary, their skin was pale and she looked forward to getting them out for lots of sun and play in their new home. She stroked the side of Jill’s face, and her daughter’s eyes immediately sprang open.
