His Tomboy Bride

A wintry chill whipped through him. His face stiffened. He needed that reminder. He needed to get a firm handle on his feelings, his responsibilities. “What’s the mare’s name?”

Billie’s eyes narrowed, then she looked at her horse. She nuzzled the side of the mare’s neck. “Calamity.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is she a klutz? Or always causing trouble?”

Billie grinned, her white teeth flashing against her honey-colored tan. “If there’s a root snaking over the ground, she’ll find it and trip. If there’s a gopher hole, she’s bound to step in it. She’s been lucky not to hurt herself too badly. But she’s great with rounding up calves. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

He watched Billie’s hands move over the horse in a loving, confident manner. He remembered how she’d cared for her father’s animals, staying up late to help a colt enter the world, handling vaccinations deftly, crying when a sick kitten couldn’t be saved. She had a tender heart. And he wouldn’t let Doug Schaeffer trample it.

Billie flung a saddle over Calamity’s back. Nick stepped to the side, bent and handed her the leather girth beneath. Their fingers brushed. His smile disappeared. With supreme effort, he clamped down on the desire to find out what it would feel like to hold her for real this time.

“You still remember which side to mount on?” she asked, humor lacing her words.

“Just give me a running start,” he said, wondering if her mind swam with the same memories. Focusing on the past helped him picture the future. Billie was getting married—to someone else.

She glanced at him, a question lighting her eyes, then laughter burst out of her, the full, throaty sound stirring his interest again. “Oh, God, you remember that?”

“How could I forget you trying to ambush Jake and me like a Comanche on the warpath?”

Shaking her head, she grabbed the reins and headed out of the barn. “Come on, I’ll saddle your mount.”

“Which one am I riding?” he asked, stepping into the warm sunlight. The rays caught the gold shimmering highlights in Billie’s blond hair and the intensity of her blue eyes.

“Diablo. You remember him, don’t you?”

How could he forget Jake’s surly black gelding that liked to kick and bite more than Billie the Kid? He nodded, wishing he’d brought his old rusted spurs. “Meanest bronc this side of the Red River.”

Her mouth twitched as if she couldn’t decide if she should smile. He figured she’d hold her laughter till he got thrown and busted his butt. She looped Calamity’s reins loosely over a post, grabbed a rope and walked down the fence line. “Come on, we’ve got to catch him first. He’s not very sociable these days.”

When had Diablo ever been? Nick stuck his hands into his pockets. He was in for a long afternoon.

Billie whistled, and the shrill sound pierced the quiet barnyard. Birds fluttered toward their perches in the barn loft In a nearby corral, a smattering of black cows and calves flinched. Diablo stood in the middle of a patch of green and chomped on sweet clover. Nick blinked. The once solid-black gelding was now gray, almost white in places.

Billie climbed the fence and jumped down into the corral. “He’s hard of hearing, too.”

“You sure it’s safe to ride him?” Nick asked. “He looks...fragile.”

“Don’t let him fool you. He’s stronger than he looks,” she said, giving Nick a pointed stare. He caught her meaning. Billie was stronger than she looked, too, always had been. “Besides, Diablo likes the challenge.”

Great, Nick thought. Wasn’t Billie enough of a challenge for one day? He opened the gate for her to lead the gelding out of the corral. The horse acted as docile as an old hound. “You think you can race and win, with me riding this poor, pathetic excuse for a horse, huh?”

“No such thing.” But she flashed him a devilish smile.

A few minutes later, mounted, they rode through a copse of live oaks and toward the green pastures. The horses’ hooves crunched acorns as they walked. Nick’s gaze trained on Billie, riding just ahead of him, as he rolled with Diablo’s slower gait. The saddle cupped Billie’s backside, framing her bottom, accenting the shifting motion of the horse. Nick groaned and concentrated on the thick green grass, the cornflower blue sky, the stark white fence surrounding the north stretch of the ranch.

“That a new fence?” he asked, noticing the rails where there used to be barbed wire.

She nodded. “Jake and I put that in right before...” Her voice faded, then she resumed. “It was expensive but in the long run it’ll require less maintenance. And I don’t have to worry about a cow breaking through and getting out onto the highway.”

“Unless an eighteen-wheeler plows through it.” He grinned, agreeing with her decision.

“Then I’d have more problems than an ornery cow on the loose.”

“What are you going to do with the ranch once you get married?” he asked, prodding Diablo alongside the chestnut mare. Out of the corner of his eye, he detected the abrupt stiffening of Billie’s spine.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t see Schaeffer letting his wife herd a bunch of smelly cows,” he confessed, slanting his gaze to her face.

Her jaw squared, and her eyes flashed. “No man lets me do anything. It’s my choice...whatever I do. With the Rocking G or anything else.”

Her crisp tone signaled that the discussion was closed. He ignored the warning. “Are you selling out?”

“No.” Her answer came quick. Too fast, almost defensive, in his opinion.

His eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t read her expression. She shuttered her emotions behind a determined mask. “You’ve put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this place. It’s your heritage.”

“I know that Better than anyone.” Her shoulders slumped as if beneath a great weight. “But...”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. We’re keeping the ranch in the family. Doug can p-p—” She clamped her mouth closed and looked out over the north range.

He studied her for a long moment. “I didn’t know you were unhappy here.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Nick.” She cut her eyes toward him. “How’s the construction business these days?”

“Growing,” he said, making a mental note that she hadn’t denied she was unhappy.

“Do you like living in Houston?” Reining Calamity near a patch of clover, she draped her wrist over the saddle horn.

He shrugged as Diablo stopped to graze beside the mare, and turned in his saddle to look at her. “It offers a lot of opportunities.”

“I would imagine so. For a single man.” A faint tinge of pink brightened her cheeks. Her gaze softened. “We heard about the divorce, Nick. I’m sorry.”

He tightened his grip on the reins. “So am I.”

“Is marriage as hard as everyone says?” she asked.

“For me it was.” Shifting on the hard saddle, he said, “Your mom would be a better one to ask. She made a marriage work for twenty some-odd years.”

“But you know what it’s like starting out in the nineties.”

He set his mouth in a stern frown. “Yeah, it’s hard.” He took the opportunity to drive home his point. “That’s why it shouldn’t be entered into lightly.” He leaned toward her, until he was close enough to smell the musky scent that fogged his brain. “Level with me, Billie. You don’t really love Doug Schaeffer, do you?”

She closed her fist over Calamity’s reins and heeled her mount into a faster pace. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t act like a blushing bride.”

“Well, maybe because of the way you behaved earlier, I didn’t think you wanted to hear me gush about my groom.”

“That’s probably true,” he admitted, matching her stride.

A sudden need gripped him. A need to know she really didn’t love Doug. For a split second he wondered if he was jealous, then dismissed it as concern—a feeling any big brother would have. “Tell. me you’re not going to marry him.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We’re engaged. The wedding date is set for one month from tomorrow.”

“It’s never too late. Not until you’ve said ‘I do.”’ Sadness softened his tone. He shook his head. “After all Doug’s teasing. The way he used to pick on you. Why would you marry him? He’s a jerk, Billie.”

She squared her shoulders. “We were all jerky when we were young.” She raised one brow. “Some of us outgrew junior high.” She gave him a pointed stare. “Besides, Doug wasn’t the only one who teased me.”

He chuckled. “I see you haven’t lost your backbone. That’s a good sign. I teased you like a li’l sister. I wasn’t mean. Not like Schaeffer.”

“No,” she admitted, her gaze softening. “You weren’t mean.”

“Now what can I say for you to break your engagement?” he asked, his voice low.

She jutted out her chin. “Doug and I are getting married.”

“What can I do, then?” His voice dropped to a provocative tone as he remembered the kiss they’d once shared. His gaze shifted to her sensuous mouth. He stared at her full bottom lip, which looked ripe and plump as a summer strawberry. He remembered the softness of her lips, the warmth. His body tightened with renewed awareness. He jerked his thoughts upright. What had gotten into him? Had he lost his mind?

She turned in her saddle to face him. “You can’t do a damn thing, Nick Latham. Go back to Houston... where you belong. And let me get married in peace.”

Billie heeled her mount into a cantor, anger straightening her spine like a steel rod. What was Nick trying to do? Stop her wedding? Why was it so important to him?

Of course, she wouldn’t let him. His pointed questions about the ranch stabbed at the raw guilt she already felt for failing to make it profitable. Nick was right; it was her heritage. But not her chosen path. She wanted to work with animals, but not breeding to sell them for somebody’s juicy steak or cheeseburger. Each time she sold a truckload of cattle, her heart ached. She’d had to sell more recently to make ends meet. How much longer could she hold out? Her plan would keep the land in the family, provide a place for her mother to live, and give her the freedom to move on with her life. With Doug’s money, she could hire someone to handle the ranch, and she’d oversee it as she went to school.

For some reason, though, she couldn’t explain her feelings to Nick. He wouldn’t understand. He’d made his father’s business a success. And she didn’t want his pity...or his contempt.

She wouldn’t let him affect her, either. Although he already had. Far more than she cared to acknowledge. Her senses swirling, her mind spinning, she rode hard and fast until she noticed Calamity laboring for each breath. She reined in her mount and slowed to a trot then a walk. As her heart calmed to a steadier beat, she heard the rumbling sound of a horse approaching from behind. Knowing it was Nick, she kept her gaze straight ahead. She heard Diablo wheeze as Nick pulled alongside her.

“We better let Diablo rest,” she said, swinging a leg behind her and dismounting. Once again, she’d overreacted, putting the gelding at risk. Guilt hung around her neck like a heavy yoke. She patted the old horse in a quiet apology.

Nick met her in front of the horses and looped the reins over Diablo’s head. He watched Billie., but she ignored him. Her cheeks stung with an internal heat. Too aware of Nick, his stare, his smile, his broad shoulders that looked strong enough for a girl to rest her weary head upon, she broke off a sliver of knee-high grass and stuck the end between her teeth.

“Boy, I’ve missed this place. It feels like home.” He led the horse through the field. “But it’s changed.”

Unsure of his tactics, she furrowed her brow. At least he’d chosen a safe topic. “A few months ago I built a new corral over near the swamp. Remember when Dad had us drag a feed trough over there to entice those wild heifers out of that pasture?”

“Yeah.” He placed a hand on his lower back as if an old injury still pained him. “That she-devil kicked the slats out of me when I tried to herd her toward the truck.”

“Well, now we have a feed lot with two troughs and a chute. I can bring the cattle in, worm them, spray for flies or weed out any I plan to sell. I can herd one or two into the chute, then load them straight into the trailer from there.”

“Pretty smart,” he said.

Relaxing a smidgen, she shrugged. “Well, I didn’t come up with it all on my own. I saw Harold Jacobson with a similar operation. Do you remember ol’ Mr. Jacobson? He used to teach the Ag courses at the high school. Dad and he were friends. And he’s been generous with more agriculture advice since Jake and I started running things. He comes around about once a week to see how things are going.” She smiled suddenly as if remembering something. “You had the hots for his daughter.”

Nick rubbed his jaw with his thumb as his mouth quirked with a fleeting smile. “I’d forgotten about her.”

Billie snorted and pursed her lips. “You always were the love-‘em-and-leave-’em type. It was like a parade, watching the girls march in and out of your life. How many wore your letter jacket? Your class ring?”

“Ah, hell, Billie, I can’t remember every girl I’ve ever dated. Can you remember every boy you ever went out with?”

Her jaws locked. Tension coiled around her like a snake. Of course, she could remember. There had only been one boy she’d ever wanted. And only one she’d ever dated. The first was standing beside her, staring at her as smug as any Neanderthal. The second was her fiancé.

“Can you?” he prompted, not letting her off the hook.

She kept her gaze trained straight ahead. “Yes, I can. Maybe I took dating a little more seriously than you did.”

“Why?” he asked.

She glanced at him, then wished she hadn’t. He looked too damn sexy. Natural as any cowboy, he handled Diablo like a wrangler, not like her fiancé who looked like he’d rather be air-conditioned and sipping a Scotch. Squeezing off that thought, she walked faster.

“Because dating is...serious business. It has a purpose. To find the one you’re going to marry. And I did.” She reiterated her engaged state for her own sake as much as Nick’s. When she looked at him, at the crinkles surrounding his hazel eyes, the tempting curve of his lower lip, she needed a clear reminder of why she’d chosen Doug instead of waiting for love.

“It’s also to have fun. Didn’t you ever date for fun?” His brow crunched into a frown.

Feeling the bite of resentment, she gritted her teeth. That was one more thing she’d never had time for. In fact, much to her chagrin, she’d never dated around period. Her experience with men had mostly been proving herself in a man’s world. She’d preferred branding irons to curling irons. She hadn’t cared about makeup or twittering gossip about the cutest boy. Unless it had centered on Nick.

He stopped walking and draped his arm over Diablo’s withers. The reins dangled between his tanned fingers, drawing attention to his work-worn hands, which exuded strength, confidence and an amazing gentleness that she remembered from a long-ago caress.

“Didn’t you ever go out with a man,” he asked, “knowing you wouldn’t marry him, and yet you had a damn good time?”

“No.”

“You should before you get married,” Nick said, his tone serious. “You could go out with someone safe...a a friend...like me.”

“You? S-safe?” she sputtered.

“Sure.” He rocked back on his heels. “I’m like your big brother. You couldn’t be safer.”

His hot gaze made her feel anything but.

“Just like that?” she quipped, her heart hammering its way into her throat. “What makes you think I’d go? That Doug would agree?” She doubted her fiancé would care if she went out with a friend, but she’d never wanted to date Nick...as a friend. And she didn’t want to do so now.

“I thought you said no man let you do anything.”

He’d caught her. His teasing smile pulled one out of her.

“So, are you gonna take me up on my offer?” he asked, his smile casual, his gaze intense.

Her mouth thinned into a tight line. “This won’t work, Nick. I don’t know if you’re desperate or what, but I can’t go out with you.”

“Why?” His voice sounded smooth as silk.

She turned on him then. “Would you have let Diane date while y’all were engaged?”

He rubbed his jaw. “I wish now that I had. I might have learned a few things before the wedding.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged as if his button-down shirt had suddenly shrunk. “It might have saved both of us a lot of grief.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, which sent a shiver of pure delight down her spine. That’s why you should experience as much as you can before you get married.”

“You’re trying to get me to break my engagement.”

“Maybe. But not this way. This is important.”

“Why?” Confusion made her mind whirl. Part of her wanted to grasp his tempting offer. Part of her wanted to shove it away, the way he’d set her aside so long ago.

“Because if you don’t date for the fun of it, how will you know that you’re really marrying the right one?”

“That’s insane. Marriage isn’t supposed to be fun. Everyone, including you, says it’s hard work. Was that all Diane was? A fun date?”

Immediately she regretted that question. “Nick, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s a good point. But there’s more to it than that. Maybe we didn’t take time to have enough fun. Maybe we didn’t date long enough.

“Bottom line, if you don’t enjoy your spouse, then it’s not worth all the effort.” His gaze narrowed. “Life is too hard to go through if you’re not with someone who can make you laugh once in a while.” He shifted the reins into his other hand. “How does Doug compare to the other men you’ve dated?”

That stumped her. She rolled her lips inward and studied Calamity’s mane. A long moment of silence followed. Billie refused to look at Nick. How could she compare her dream to reality, Nick to Doug? She couldn’t lie to Nick. He’d be able to read through her. But she couldn’t face the truth, either. She didn’t want to see the shock, the slight head shake of pity.

“Why would I want to go out with you? What makes you think we’d have any fun?”

“We did growing up, didn’t we?” His jaunty grin made her head whirl.

She pursed her lips. “Yeah, I guess we did. I’m sure it would be an education. Maybe one I should do without. After all, you and Jake taught me some...well, not very sociable manners when I was a kid. Doug might not appreciate anything you have to teach me.”

Nick scowled. “What did we teach you that was socially unacceptable?”

“The finer points of spitting,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone, but laughter lurked beneath the surface as she remembered those hot summer afternoons down at Willow’s Pond.

“Hey, we taught you not to spit on others. That’s socially correct.” His broad shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “You were a natural. You could hit a fly at fifty paces.”

Her mouth twisted with the effort of containing a chuckle. “You taught me how to box, too. And that got me in trouble when Charlie Wallace and I had a fight on the playground.”

“Only because you bloodied his nose. Otherwise he probably would have been in more trouble for picking on a girl.” Nick rubbed his jaw. “You never know, though, that right hook of yours might come in handy. It’ll keep me in line. If I get fresh, then I give you permission to wallop me.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes, but her heart hammered in her chest. “You get fresh with me.”

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