How To Train A Cowboy

“No bullet is going to come over that rise and get me.” She unfastened her seat belt.

“You’ll freeze.”

“No, I won’t. I’m just going to stretch my legs.” She opened the door.

“Emily—”

She dropped down the foot to the gravel shoulder of the road and shut her door. The emergency lights flashed on the horizon. The air temperature hadn’t fallen any further. This was as cold as it was going to get tonight. Not too bad—if she’d had her jacket. She started walking and swung her arms, too. It did feel good to shake off some of the tension.

She avoided the bright headlights and walked around the back of the vehicle to the other side. Graham’s door opened and the interior lights came on, highlighting the rounded bulk of his shoulder muscles under that navy shirt. He stepped out and slammed the door shut. In the sudden shadows, he handed her a coat.

Oh, Tarzan. He was still taking care of her when he’d rather be free of her.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She held the coat in one hand.

He leaned his back against the door and crossed his ankles, apparently prepared to relax out in the cold air. “You might as well put it on, if you’re going to walk around while we wait.”

“But now you’ll be the one freezing without it.” Although the headlights were pointed away from them, they still illuminated her little piece of the night enough that she could see her breath as a mist in the cold.

He shrugged in the shadows. “I’ll get back in the SUV if I can’t take it. If you feel the need to walk, you wear it.”

She swirled his coat around her shoulders like a cape, feeling a little bit sheepish. She didn’t want to admit that she didn’t need to walk anywhere, for any reason. “I thought—I thought you might want some privacy to make a call.”

“There’s no cell reception out here.”

“Oh. Right.” That must have been why he’d tossed his cell phone, not because he couldn’t make a call in her presence. To walk or not walk—which would make her look less dumb?

He tucked his hands into his front pockets. “Are you scared of me?”

With his face in shadows, she paid more attention to his tone of voice. He sounded concerned, actually concerned about her, Emily, the girl that the boys didn’t always like because they couldn’t beat her in a roping contest. A man who was concerned about her—it tugged at her heart. It made her weak in the knees. She was scared by how hard she wanted something she hadn’t thought she needed in her life. She didn’t need it; she just liked it. Loved it.

“When the police drew their weapons, I pushed you into my SUV pretty abruptly,” he said. “Maybe I scared you. I didn’t mean to. If the police needed to take cover, then we did, too.”

“I’m not scared of you.” That was sort of a lie, but she wasn’t scared of him the way he meant. She kept her chin up and pretended her heart wasn’t pounding just because he was talking to her with concern in his voice.

“I can imagine a woman might feel uneasy being out in the middle of nowhere with a stranger. I promise you, you’re safe.”

His hands were still tucked in his front pockets as he leaned against the door. He was being as physically non-threatening as he could be, she realized, putting himself in her shoes and trying to imagine what she might be afraid of. Just—jeez. What a good man. Who knew a man like that could swoop in to her local bar from out of nowhere?

He was watching her. “I’d never push anything farther than a woman wanted to take it.”

“Even though you were a handsy prom date?”

A beat of silence. “Even then, I could take no for an answer.”

“Because your mama taught you better.”

“Some things you don’t have to be taught. Of course I wouldn’t hurt a woman I wanted to...touch.” The slightest smile softened his features, but then he slayed her with a casual wink. “I just can’t imagine it would be any fun if she wasn’t having any fun.”

Well.

She couldn’t say anything to that. It was amazing she could even stand, because her bones had just turned to mush and she wanted to drop like a ribbon at his feet.

His voice was a gentle rumble in the night. “I’m trying to figure out why you got out of a warm car to stand in the cold air. Twice, not that I’m counting.”

“I was trying to give you some space. You didn’t plan on being stuck with me all night.” Her voice sounded sad. She tried to put a little spunk into it. “In my defense, this wasn’t my idea. I can take a hint. I did take the hint, in fact.”

“What hint was that?”

“In the parking lot. You were starting the whole ‘I’m sorry’ speech. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to get going now. Nice knowin’ you.’ I understand. You were never obliged to stay with me as long as you did. You could have jumped over that fence anytime you wanted to and left.”

His hands stayed in his pockets, but the muscles in his arms were taut, the muscles in his neck showing his tension. He looked away from her. “That wasn’t it.”

She waited, but he said nothing else. After a moment, she took a step closer to him. “Then what were you saying sorry for?”

He looked back at her with a suddenly fierce expression. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you out of there sooner.”

“Oh.” The look of disgust on his face, she realized, was directed toward himself, not toward her.

“I knew that crowd was going to turn bad. I failed to get you out of there. I was too slow to act on my own intuition, and I put you in danger because of it. Your truck is out of commission now, when it would have been fine if I’d gotten you out of there at the start. You would have been gone before the police arrived. I’m sorry.”

“We were only standing at the bar for a minute or two.”

“Long enough. I saw the argument starting when we were working our way through the crowd. I should have gotten you out that door instead of following you to the bar in the first place.”

Poor Tarzan, always obliged to help the people who wandered into the jungle. She felt a little guilty for soaking up all his protection. She’d done nothing except admire his body, his voice and his profile, while he’d been trying to keep her safe from fists and bullets, literally trying to save her life.

She turned to lean her back against the door, too, shoulder to shoulder with him, so he’d know she wasn’t afraid that he was going to physically attack her or anything like that. “It wasn’t your job to predict a fight or even to get me out of the bar. It’s my turn to apologize. I know I’ve given you the wrong impression all night, and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not actually the helpless type of female.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t think you do.” She glanced up to find him looking down at her.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “The first words I heard you say were ‘go to hell.’”

Her laugh of surprise was a single puff of white that floated away in the night air.

“You damn near made it over that fence before I could get a hand on you to help. This has nothing to do with whether or not I think you’re helpless. You’re clearly not.”

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