Blazing Hot Cowboy Part 4

He personally knew better than to get sucked into a hot gal's planetary orbit. He'd been there once with his former fiancee. She'd kept him whirling around her till she'd found somebody who'd inflated her ego like a helium balloon, and then she'd kicked Kent right out of her closed system like he was nothing but cosmic trash.

Still, he figured he was lucky she'd cut him loose before kids had been added to her erratic orbit and they'd all gotten hurt. But her actions still rankled like a c.o.c.klebur under a saddle blanket. He'd been left gun-shy, but hopefully a whole lot smarter about the fairer s.e.x.

He clenched the wheel harder. He should've seen Charlene's rejection coming, but maybe he'd been too dazzled by her stacked, toned body that'd seen more time in the gym than in his king-size bed. He'd tried to make her happy. He'd bought her little blue boxes of pretty jewelry and he'd taken her to Paris-France, not Texas. Now he knew he'd sooner travel by his lonesome down the road a ways to see the miniature Eiffel Tower sporting a big, red cowboy hat than go halfway across the country and the big pond to take photos of Charlene posing in front of the original edifice.

"You okay?" Lauren asked with a note of concern in her voice.

"Sure." He guessed she'd noticed his grip on the steering wheel. He eased up before he broke the thing in frustration.

Once he got the booster to the station, he'd get back in his own truck that had caused Charlene to turn up her nose. But he knew a good vehicle when he had one. The F-150 was just getting broken in proper, the way a serviceable pickup ought to be. Quality, not flash.

He slanted another quick glance at Lauren. Could a guy lose a gal over a five-year-old truck? Maybe he ought to get a new one or a big SUV. No, he'd just wash his pickup and maybe add a little wax for s.h.i.+ne. He might even take a vacuum to the inside, but that seemed like a lot of trouble for something that wouldn't last long. On the other hand, gals liked clean and pretty.

He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. Pretty was never high on his agenda of what needed to get done. First order of business had to be fire-rescue calls for immediate help, then ranch ch.o.r.es like feeding cattle and bison, riding horses, maintaining equipment, brush-hogging pasture, or bailing hay. The list was endless. Now that he thought about all he had to do, maybe he wouldn't wash his truck after all. It'd just get dirty again.

Anyway, if a woman was worth her salt, she'd appreciate something long-lasting and dependable instead of new and flashy. But that could be his own self he was thinking about instead of his favorite vehicle. Lauren had lived back East and down in Houston. Like Charlene, she most likely preferred spike heels with red soles instead of well-worn, re-soled cowgirl boots.

Somehow or other, his PhD didn't appear to translate to an understanding of the female brain. He wanted a practical, no-nonsense gal who'd like him for who he was and not try to change him into who she wanted him to be. Seemed simple enough. But he felt like he was in grade school where women were concerned nowadays. He hadn't always felt that way. But Charlene had made him question his own good sense.

Lately he'd been as edgy as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs where the fairer s.e.x was concerned, but Lauren had reminded him of what it'd once been like before he'd gotten burned by a hungry gal. Maybe his teenage sweetheart made him feel young again, as if anything was still possible, or maybe his hot response was simply a reaction to Lauren herself. Either way, he might as well enjoy the ride as far as it'd take him, but he'd keep a lock on his heart.

When he hit Wildcat Road heading north, he felt as if he was coming home in a lot of ways, not the least of which was due to Lauren by his side. Soon he started the climb up the bluff, pa.s.sing gnarled trees, dense shrubs, and sandstone outcrops on either side. Puffy white clouds in a deep blue sky provided the perfect canopy over the vast land.

"No matter how many times I come up to Wildcat Bluff on this stretch of road," Lauren said as she broke the silence, "I feel as if I'm going back in time."

He chuckled, nodding. "I know what you mean."

"Imagine all the cowboys and Indians, outlaws and lawmen, ladies and ladies of the evening who made this trek back in the day." She gestured out the front window at the landscape around them.

"Plenty of times. Only we're getting to town a whole lot faster and easier than in a buckboard or on horseback."

"I'm glad for modern travel conveniences." She lapsed into silence again as she gazed right and left.

He didn't disturb her, knowing she was getting a feel for the area again. She'd been gone a long time. She might've changed a lot, but not much around here had succ.u.mbed to the world's faster pace. He was glad. They might update their farm and ranch practices, get their businesses set up on computers, and communicate via email and cell phone, but at heart they lived small-town and country lifestyles that depended on family and neighbors.

As the road continued to wind upward, he relaxed into the comfort of the booster. Fortunately, the fire in Sure-Shot had been fairly contained from the get-go, but the bigger issue of a firebug plaguing that area would continue to be a concern for Wildcat Bluff Fire-Rescue. He needed to alert the other volunteers about the issue, but Hedy might be ahead of him on that one. He'd check later to make sure everybody was on the same page regarding Sure-Shot.

He heard the booster's engine growl a little louder and work a little harder on the upward climb through the rugged, untamed land. A variety of bushes and ancient trees with spreading limbs sheltered tall, golden stalks of dry gra.s.s. The plains that stretched north to Canada had once been a sea of buffalo gra.s.s as tall as a horse's belly that provided food for millions of buffalo that kept the ground broken up with their sharp hooves so the gra.s.s grew wild and plentiful. Most of that gra.s.s was long gone due to sodbusters and town planners.

Several black-and-white buzzards with long necks and rotund bodies suddenly launched into the air from the side of the road, flapping long wings in their struggle to gain alt.i.tude ahead of the booster. He slowed down to give the birds a chance to get into the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the white tail of a rabbit scampering to safety in the underbrush. As the birds gradually disappeared into the distance, he continued his slow pace so Lauren could look at the scenery.

"I'd almost forgotten all the varied wildlife that lives up here." She pointed out her side window. "Did you see that cute rabbit?"

"Yep. Check out the low limb on that pecan tree. A squirrel is shaking his tail at us for disturbing him. Pesky critters." Kent pointed toward the tree, and then refocused on the road. If they got a chance, the squirrels would strip green pecans from the trees in August so the delicious nuts never had a chance to ripen. There was no keeping squirrels from their goals once they'd set their minds on a particular pecan tree. He sighed at that ongoing nuisance.

Lauren laughed a tinkling peal of happiness that resounded in the cab. "They're so cute."

"Bet you fed them in Houston."

"Guilty. If you feed the birds, you feed the squirrels." She laughed harder.

He joined her with a chuckle of his own, feeling more lighthearted than he had in a long time despite thinking about thieving squirrels. "Animals never pa.s.s up an easy meal."

"Smart critters."

"True enough." He picked up speed again, feeling as if he kept moving back in time-not just to the Old West but to those hot, steamy summer days with luscious Lauren.

Near the summit of the bluff, he slowed until he almost brought them to a complete stop in the middle of the highway. Up ahead, the road dead-ended in front of a wild, natural growth of twisted trees, dense shrubs, and entwined vines. The living wall was green, brown, and th.o.r.n.y just like the original, impenetrable Cross Timbers.

"Independent cusses settled Wildcat Bluff," he said, reminding her of their shared past.

She nodded at him, eyes bright with happiness. "I know. They wanted safety from all the frontier dangers. And they got it."

"Wildcat Bluff still has its special, hidden entrance."

She grinned, flas.h.i.+ng white teeth. "I was relieved to see it on my way into town earlier."

"Not likely we'd tear it out."

"Good. Heritage is important."

"And tourists love it."

He turned the steering wheel sharply to the right, and then maneuvered the booster back left. Now he could see a gap wide enough for trucks or campers, two or three abreast. If he hadn't known about the entrance, or seen it on a map, he'd never have guessed its existence. Back in the day, there'd been plenty of s.p.a.ce to drive horses and wagons through the hidden entry into town.

He followed the wide road upward. When he reached the summit, sunlight bathed Wildcat Bluff in a golden glow. An Old West town with a long row of one- and two-story buildings built of rock and brick nestled behind a white portico covering a long boardwalk. Sunlight glinted off the shop windows. Everything appeared as fresh as if it'd been constructed yesterday.

"I didn't have time to stop and look at Old Town when I arrived earlier," Lauren said. "I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it is."

"We can thank the Italians our founders hired to build Wildcat Bluff. I still wonder how they knew master masons were working as coal miners for the Choctaw Nation in Indian Territory."

"Maybe everybody knew back then." She gestured at the town that spread out ahead of them. "Aren't we the lucky ones with this fine legacy?"

Kent drove into Old Town, turned onto Main Street, and saw the impressive Wildcat Hotel, a redbrick two-story building with a second-floor balcony enclosed with a stone bal.u.s.trade supported by fancy columns. He found an empty parking place and pulled to a stop in front of the hotel's grand entrance. Cream brick keystones and bra.s.s planters with trimmed rosemary bushes welcomed the esteemed guests of the fanciest hotel in town.

Next door rose another two-story business with "SALOON" painted in tall yellow letters near the roofline. He glanced at the plate-gla.s.s windows with the words "Lone Star Saloon" hand-painted with gold in old-fas.h.i.+oned curlicue script. A wooden cigar store Indian stood at one side of the batwing doors and held flags of the Lone Star State and the United States.

"Old Town doesn't look like it's changed much since I lived here," Lauren said as she pointed down the row of businesses.

He chuckled. "Guess not much since the 1880s. Food. Drinks. Dance hall. Live country bands on weekends."

"Sounds like fun."

"You bet. We get a lot of tourists during Wild West Days wanting to experience a bit of the Old West like they do in Tombstone, Arizona." He glanced at Lauren, realizing he wanted her to like Wildcat Bluff again. He didn't need to push the town on her. She'd stay or she wouldn't. Still, she was rekindling old feelings that made him want more of everything, including her.

"Old Town looks as good as Tombstone. Maybe better."

"We're wall-to-wall folks during Wild West Days. They like to see our reenactment of the shoot-out between the h.e.l.lions and the Ruffians for control of the town."

"Is it anything like the shoot-out at the OK Corral in Tombstone?"

"Similar. Our shoot-out takes place in front of the Lone Star, but the ladies in their white pinafores turned the tide." He pointed at the batwing doors, and then turned to her. "You'd look good dressed up as a dancehall darling."

"If I'm here in the summer, maybe you can persuade me to join in the fun." She chuckled, pus.h.i.+ng back a golden lock of hair from her face.

"Christmas in the Country is fun, too. We get lots of out-of-towners for the event. I think you'd like it."

"I'd enjoy seeing it."

He leaned toward her, thinking how much fun it'd be to squire her about two of his favorite events of the year. But like a trick pony, he had to be smart nowadays about gals. "Come on. Let's go grab some grub. I need to get the booster back to the station pretty quick."

"Suits me. I'm starving." She opened her door. "Look! Adelia's Delights hasn't changed a bit. I can't wait to go to the tearoom and shop for gifts."

Kent stepped out of the booster, but before he had a chance to walk around and open Lauren's door, she'd joined him on the boardwalk. He looked in the front window of Adelia's and saw a big, fluffy, long-haired tortoisesh.e.l.l cat lounging in the midst of blue crystal birds in the large Bluebird of Happiness display.

"Is that Rosie?" Lauren wiggled her fingers at the lounging cat.

"Sure is. She's still Queen of Adelia's, even if she's getting a little long in the tooth."

"I'm so happy to see her again. Look at those huge paws. I'd almost forgotten about Wildcat Bluff's polydactyl cats with the extra dewclaws. They're like the kitty cats at the Hemingway House in Key West."

"You've traveled some since I saw you last."

"A bit."

"You know how we prize our cats in Wildcat Bluff. They protect our businesses from unwanted vermin-"

"And provide lots of love and companions.h.i.+p." She glanced up at him, c.o.c.king her head as if remembering those long-ago days.

"Yeah." He felt his heart speed up as he looked deeper into her eyes, feeling as if he were plunging into a vat of the richest chocolate candy-G.o.diva's or See's came to mind. He broadened his gaze, taking in the smooth surface of her skin as he moved from the rich, dark chocolate of her eyes to the creamy, white chocolate of her face. She'd taste just as good as she looked. He had no doubt about that fact.

For a long moment, time spiraled outward as if no longer tethered to reality as he sensed the past slip into the present. She was setting his temperature on high, and he wanted to drag her into the boiling caldron with him. When her skin turned a pale pink, he knew a sense of satisfaction. He doubted he was the only one feeling the heat in their personal kitchen.

He cleared his throat to cover the pause that seemed to go on forever between them. He'd bet hard-earned money on the fact that neither of them was thinking about cats anymore-not while fireworks worthy of a Fourth of July celebration were exploding between them.

Chapter 7.

Lauren felt as if she and Kent were wrapped in their own star-studded universe even though they stood in the middle of Old Town. Somehow, their personal world seemed to have been transported from when she was sweet sixteen to the present time and place.

She could easily lose herself in the depths of his hazel eyes that were still so changeable with the s.h.i.+ft in his moods and thoughts. Right now the concentric circles of brown, green, and gold reminded her of a lush forest that lured her ever deeper to a crackling campfire.

She caught Kent's heat, as if his campfire had turned into a wildfire that had jumped boundaries to ignite her dry timber brought on by years of drought. She flushed with a needy ache. In a bid for control, she inhaled sharply, but that only caused her to drag his scent deeper into her lungs and make her even hotter. She wanted his lips, his hands, his body all over her as he brought her to completion with a pa.s.sion that she now realized she hadn't experienced since those heady nights on the old, tattered quilts in the back of his pickup when they'd gazed up at a dark night sky and wished upon falling stars to love each other forever.

She traced the contours of his face with her gaze, wanting to touch him with her fingertips as if to make sure he was actually real. His skin was bronzed from the sun and stretched tightly across the strong planes of his face. She knew from past experience how a kiss from his full, sensual lips would ignite a raging fire inside her.

Now she couldn't help but compare her late husband Jeffrey to Kent, which she'd tried really hard not to do during her marriage. Maybe she'd been on the rebound from the moment she'd left Kent, or maybe she'd always been trying to find him in another guy, or maybe Kent's specter had always stood between her and any other man.

Yet she couldn't help but wonder how they'd lost each other so long ago. She knew and still she didn't know. Yes, she'd gone back East with her parents. Yes, she'd finished high school and gone to college. Yes, she'd married and had a child. But Kent had always been in her heart. Maybe she'd needed or thought she'd needed to prove to herself that she could make it on her own without the support of Kent Duval or Wildcat Bluff. Maybe time had simply spiraled outward, luring her away with glimpses of excitement that had never quite lived up to expectations. Except for Hannah. Everything she'd done and experienced was worth it for her darling daughter.

"You still hungry?" Kent asked, nodding toward the cafe without breaking eye contact.

"Are you?"

"I'm starved...parched...desperate for-"

"I know." She cut off his next words because she didn't want him to give voice to what she was feeling inside or what he was communicating with the heat of his body.

"Food isn't what I want," he continued, eyes turning dark with meaning, "but it's what we need."

"Yes. Absolutely. Right." She knew she was talking to cover up the emotions that were cascading through her and the feelings she was picking up from him.

She abruptly looked away, breaking the power of his gaze, and walked to the front of Adelia's Delights. She stopped to look at the play of light across the clear blue gla.s.s of the Bluebird of Happiness display. Rosie opened her eyes, gave Lauren a considering stare, and went back to sleep.

"Kent, look here." She leaned closer to the big display window and felt concern run through her. She tapped on the gla.s.s with the tip of her peach-tinted fingernail.

He stepped up beside her. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure, but didn't Aunt Hedy always keep her store full of unusual gifts?"

"I remember you and the other girls loved to go there and spend time."

"Look now." Lauren tapped the gla.s.s again. "There are sections of empty s.p.a.ce in the display. She hasn't restocked the bluebirds that were sold. And look at the other shelves. There are gaps without merchandise."

"You're right."

"That means she hasn't been going to the gift market in Dallas or ordering from catalogs."

"Maybe she has more in the back and hasn't unpacked yet."

"That's possible. But why not get the merchandise out as quickly as possible? Like Aunt Hedy always said, You can't sell what's not on the shelf.' She never left empty s.p.a.ce on her shelves." Lauren felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"What can I say? She's just not herself."

"And this is another upsetting example." Lauren walked the few steps to Morning's Glory next door. She peered in the display windows, but all the shelves appeared fully stocked with apothecary, beauty, health, and gift items.

"Everything looks okay here." Kent shaded his eyes with his right hand as he leaned in close to the window.

"Morning Glory is Hedy's good friend. Has she said anything about my aunt?"

"No. But I've been busy on the ranch and in the fire-rescue station. I haven't seen much of Morning Glory. I doubt if she'd tell me personal stuff anyway."