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The Trouble with Josh
Marilyn Pappano
Heck, the whole town knew that the impossibly charming cowboy was so irresistible to females, he would never settle down. Until a sweet, petite city gal visiting Hickory Bluff suddenly proved irresistible to him.Problem was, Candace Thompson's past offenses were unforgivable to Josh's big, beloved clan. So what to do with the hunger he felt for the one woman who should never be his?Once an ambitious reporter, Candace had sacrificed love and friendship on the altar of her career. Until a life crisis guided her to change her ways, to visit Oklahoma long enough to right her past wrongs. But would falling for Josh ruin her well-made plan, or could this sexy cowboy be her very own dream come true?
Hell, Josh thought, it was wrong to feel—he didn’t even know what—about Candace.
Unsettled was as good a word as any, he decided as he sat in his truck, engine idling, pondering which way to turn.
He wasn’t used to a beautiful woman being off-limits for any reason other than marriage. And Candace Thompson was definitely beautiful. If not for her history with his family, he would already have done things with her that would make a grown man blush.
Instead, he wasn’t supposed to see her, talk to her…even think about wanting her.
He damn sure wasn’t supposed to help her change a flat tire, then go home with her, bandage her scrapes and touch her in a way that brought those soft, erotic whimpers from her, as he had tonight.
Clutching the steering wheel tightly, he turned away from Candace, toward Tulsa. A night on the town, too much to drink—and, if he did it right, come tomorrow morning, he wouldn’t remember a damn thing about tonight.
Right?
The Trouble with Josh
Marilyn Pappano
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
MARILYN PAPPANO
brings impeccable credentials to her career—a lifelong habit of gazing out windows, not paying attention in class, daydreaming and spinning tales for her own entertainment. The sale of her first book brought great relief to her family, proving that she wasn’t crazy but was, instead, creative. Since then she’s sold more than forty books to various publishers and even a film production company.
She writes in an office nestled among the oaks that surround her country home. In winter she stays inside with her husband and their four dogs, and in summer she spends her free time mowing the yard that never stops growing and daydreams about grass that never gets taller than two inches. You can write to her at P.O. Box 643, Sapulpa, OK, 74067-0643.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Chapter One
Visit all fifty states:
Mississippi
Arkansas
Oklahoma
In the months since she’d almost died, Candace Thompson had made a list of all the things she wanted to do while she still had a chance. It filled six pages on a dog-eared legal pad and wasn’t in any particular order, except in her mind. She had crossed off plenty of them—things like Spend a week on the beach and Apologize to Craig, whom she’d dumped her senior year in high school, for the manner in which she’d done it.
There were still plenty to be crossed off—another thirty or forty years’ worth, by her reckoning—but the time had come to take care of the number-one priority on the list: Make amends with Natalie.
Nothing like setting her goals too high. It would be easier, she suspected, to sprout wings and fly to the moon, but she had to try. She’d made promises—to God, to the doctors, to herself. She had to do her best to keep them.
It had taken some effort, but she’d finally located her former best friend, living on a ranch outside Hickory Bluff, Oklahoma. She’d had the address and phone number for five months now and had done nothing with them. Forgiveness of this magnitude wasn’t something that could be asked for over the phone, and doing it by mail struck her as cowardly—too easy, too impersonal.
Hey, no one had said all the things on the list would be pleasant or fun. Some were supposed to hurt, to require guts and courage and looking people in the eye.
This was definitely one of those.
She’d arrived in Hickory Bluff nearly twenty-four hours earlier, after taking the scenic route from Atlanta, and had spent the time getting settled. In planning the trip, she’d discovered there wasn’t a motel in town, but there was an RV park at a lake two miles north. Since she’d recently come into possession of a fairly comfortable motor home, she’d reserved a space, much to the amusement of the campground owner—obviously October wasn’t a busy period for them. Once she’d settled in at the park, she sweet-talked a friendly guy named Rick at the nearest car rental agency into delivering a car to her.
And she’d found out exactly where this ranch of Natalie’s was. She was all set.
Except that she’d been sitting at this intersection of two dirt roads for more than ten minutes and couldn’t bring herself to go on.
Natalie wasn’t going to be happy to see her, and Candace couldn’t blame her. If the situation were reversed, she would wish Natalie off the face of the earth. It would be a cold day in hell before she would give even scant consideration to forgiving her. Since Natalie was sure to feel the same way, and Candace had come all the way here, maybe she could give herself credit for trying, scratch it off her list and go on to the next goal.
But that would be cheating. No surprise there. She’d been a cheat and a user and a manipulator all her life. No one who truly knew her expected honesty from her.
It was a pathetic excuse for a human being who couldn’t be honest with herself.
Drawing a deep breath, she checked the crossroad in both directions, even though not one car had passed in the minutes she’d been sitting there. It took a major effort to press the accelerator down, another major effort to not turn right or left to avoid the destination straight ahead.
She kept her speed down—because she didn’t want gravel flying up to damage the rental car, and because Rick the friendly rental agent had gone to some trouble to get her a convertible and she didn’t want to show up at Natalie’s all dusty. Not because she was trying to delay her arrival at the ranch.
The road ran straight and true with little to see on either side—open grassland and woods, an occasional cluster of buildings. She couldn’t imagine Natalie voluntarily settling down someplace like this…but a lot of her choices had been taken away from her. Her career, her reputation, her relationship with her father—none of it had survived Candace.
Up ahead something appeared in the road. She squinted behind her sunglasses to bring it into focus. Large, shaggy, brown and white—cows. A whole herd of them. Just sort of milling around on the road.
She slowed to a snail’s pace, then stopped about ten feet from the nearest bovine. Most of them appeared taller than her low-slung little sports car, and they seemed to have zero interest in her. The ones that were munching grass at the sides of the road continued to munch, and the ones that were just standing around blocking her way continued to stand and block.
She was reaching to tap the horn when a voice from someplace much too close behind her said, “I wouldn’t advise honking the horn. They tend to associate that with feed and come running.”
As she twisted in the seat to see who’d spoken, a cowboy reined in his very large horse next to the driver’s door. He wore jeans, a T-shirt and scruffy boots, along with a cowboy hat that shaded his face. He was dusty and sweaty…and cute. Very definitely cute. His hair was brown, his eyes the same color and crinkled at the corners. His smile was crooked and so was his nose, and the hands that held the reins were big and powerful.
She had a thing about hands…and power.
“Sorry about the delay,” he went on. “Neighbor’s buffalo took down a section of fence, and the dumb animals decided they’d rather eat the grass over here.”
She managed what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Well, you know what they say. The grass is always greener on the other side.”
“Not that it matters much to the cows.” He shifted in the saddle with a creak of leather. “You’re not from around here.”
“Aw, what gave me away?” The fact that she was lacking that luscious, slow-lazy-day accent of his? Or maybe that she was wearing sandals instead of Justins, a ball cap instead of a Stetson, and linen pants instead of Wranglers?
“Let’s start with the fact that I’ve lived my entire life here and never run into you,” he said with a grin. “You wander off the highway and get lost?”
“No. I’m just taking a drive.” No doubt, knowing everybody’s business was the small-town, country-folk way, but she kept hers to herself. She looked at the cows. “Do you leave them here until they’ve eaten their fill and wander back to the right side of the fence?”
“No,” he drawled, then lifted one hand in a gesture too lazy to be considered a wave.
She turned just as another very cute cowboy on another great big horse came through the trees. He tipped his head in greeting, then began herding the cows over the downed wire and into the pasture, with the help of one of the biggest dogs she’d ever seen. Damn, all the creatures around here were big enough to intimidate her—especially the men.
Understandable, since she hadn’t gotten close to one who wasn’t wearing a stethoscope around his neck in…oh, eleven months.
“Don’t you need to help?” she asked.
“Nah. The dog does most of the work.”
It looked to her as if the cowboy and the dog were sharing the job equally, but she wasn’t going to argue. “I guess a dog provides cheap labor on a ranch. He can’t ask for a raise, doesn’t get drunk and fail to show up for work, can’t talk back….”
“Give ’im a little chow, and he’s happy,” he said with a grin. “Ol’ Red there is extra cheap—he belongs to our neighbor, so we don’t even have to feed him. He just likes working cattle.”
“Red?” she echoed. “He’s black as night.”
“You noticed.” He didn’t offer an explanation as the last couple of cows crossed the road. “Well, I guess you can go on your way now.”
She glanced ahead and smiled weakly. “I guess I can.”
“Enjoy your drive.”
“I will.” She pulled forward a few feet, then stopped. “Would you happen to know if there’s anyplace around here where I could get a cold beer and a greasy burger for supper tonight?”
“You can have one or the other, but not at the same time. For a greasy burger, try the Dairy Delight in town. For a cold beer…” He removed his hat with one hand, shoved the other through his hair, then reseated the hat. Damned cute, indeed. “I tend to do my drinking at Frenchy’s. It’s about a mile north of town. You can’t miss it.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and the horse started around the car and toward the broken fence. About halfway there, he looked back at her with a grin and a wink. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Maybe you will.” Candace was smiling as she drove away. A handsome cowboy who was either single or didn’t care that he wasn’t…what more could a woman on a quest ask for?
But her smile faded. Although there actually was a mention of a cowboy on her list—Pick up a handsome cowboy/soldier/cop/jock—that wasn’t her priority right now.
Natalie was.
According to her calculations, the ranch should be just a short distance ahead…and sure enough, long before she was ready to reach it, there it was—a large house, a barn and some other stuff out back, Natalie’s classic old Mustang parked in the drive.
Candace stopped at the end of the driveway and tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t. Her chest hurt. Her stomach hurt. Even her fingers hurt from clenching the steering wheel so tightly.
She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t. She didn’t care if she’d driven all this way, didn’t care if she was letting herself down. The only thing that mattered was that she could not face Natalie. Not now.
Maybe not ever.
“Have you ever met a pretty woman you didn’t flirt with?”
Josh Rawlins glanced up as his half brother, Tate, swung to the ground beside him. They would do a temporary fix on the fence for now, then come back out later to do it right. He would rather do damn near anything than fix barbed wire. It was his least favorite job on the ranch.
No, that wasn’t quite true. The job he hated most was digging post holes for barbed-wire fences. It was a general rule in Oklahoma that wherever you dug, you were bound to hit rock. Sometimes it seemed as if the entire ranch was nothing but a foot of dirt on top of one huge slab of sandstone.
“I didn’t flirt with your wife,” he pointed out at last, then grinned. “I like women, and they like me.”
“She didn’t look like your type.”
Josh scoffed. Pretty, blond, blue eyes and a nice body. What could possibly be not his type? “All women are my type, Pop.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“J.T. does.”
“He calls me Papa, and he’s allowed. You’re not.”
As they got to work, Josh laughed at the scowl accompanying the last words. “What’re you going to do? Give me a whippin’?”
“I’ve done it before. I’ve also saved you from more than a few of them. Don’t antagonize me or I won’t do it again.”
“Well, hell, big brother, you haven’t been to a bar with me since you got married. If somebody decides to kick my ass, you’re not gonna be there to stop ’em anyway.”
Tate shook his head. “You know, Mom and I keep hoping that at some point, you’ll outgrow this habit of fighting in bars and getting thrown in jail.”
“Hey, I haven’t been arrested in a year, and that last time wasn’t my fault. She told me she didn’t want to leave with that guy.”
Tate gave him a dry look as he spliced two strands of wire together. “She was underage, and that ‘guy’ was her father. You’re lucky all they did was lock you up until you were sober.”
“She looked a lot older. Even the sheriff thought so.” Josh faked a sorrowful look. “It’s a sad day when a man has to ask a woman in a bar for ID to find out how old she is.”
“Then again, a man could try meeting a woman someplace other than a bar.”
Josh cheerfully shook his head. “Sorry, but we’re fresh out of pesky reporters wanting to write about the old man.” That was how Tate had met his wife. Retired senator Boyd Chaney had hired Natalie to write his biography, and had required that she gain the cooperation of his six ex-wives and nine children, including the illegitimate son he’d never recognized—Josh himself. There had been a little passing around of identities, a quick trip out of town for Josh and his mother, plenty of lies and deception and, ultimately, a happy ending. Tate and Natalie had been married four years now and had a little boy, J.T.
But how many times was something like that likely to happen? Maybe once in a blue moon? Which meant Josh was out of luck. He had to settle for meeting women the old-fashioned way…not that he was looking to settle down just yet. He figured one of these days the carousing would stop being fun, and then he would know it was time to give it up. To pick one woman, get married and start acting respectable, like Tate.
Of course, Tate had been acting respectable ever since he was eighteen, when his girlfriend had handed their newborn son, Jordan, to him, then walked out of their lives.
And Josh hadn’t behaved respectably in…well, ever. He liked being the disreputable Rawlins, the one with plenty of wild oats to sow, the impulsive one, the fun one. He wasn’t in any rush to give that up.
