Kissed by a Rancher

Thinking of his own travels, Josh smiled. “You’re a homebody.”

“Very much of one,” she said. “I suspect you’re not, and you sound as if you’re a busy man. Are you married, Josh?”

“No, I’m single, not into commitment at this point in my life. I travel a lot, and this is a job I like,” he said. “Or have liked. At heart I’m a rancher, which is why I came to Beckett to see about a horse.”

Big blue eyes studied him, and he thought again how easy it was to look at her.

“You have two vastly different interests—I guess, vocations—ranching and the corporate world,” she said. “Does your family live close?”

My siblings are here in Texas, but our parents retired in California. Are both your parents next door?”

“Mom is. She’s divorced. She’s Nell Donovan, a hairdresser who has a shop in her house. Her story is well-known in town, so it’s no secret—my dad ran off with a younger woman he met on his business travels. That was when I was fourteen. He traveled a lot.”

“Sorry that he left your mother and your family.”

“We hardly saw him anyway because of his job.”

“So besides this inn and family, what do you like to do?”

“Gardening, swimming. I’d like to have a pool here, but so far, that hasn’t worked out. I like little kids. Once a week I have a story hour at the library and read to preschool kids. I also like movies and tennis.”

The thought flitted to mind again to ask her to dinner when the storm was over and the snow melted. Instantly, he vetoed his own thought. She was the earnest type who would take everything seriously. With a sigh, he turned back to look at the fire, trying to forget her sitting so close. It was even more difficult to ignore the tingly awareness of her that he couldn’t shake.

“Is there a guy in your life?”

“Sort of,” she said, smiling. “There’s someone local. We’ve grown up knowing each other, and we like the same things, so we occasionally go out together. I always figure someday we’ll marry, but we seldom talk about it. Neither of us is in a hurry.”

“That doesn’t sound too serious,” Josh said, wondering what kind of man the guy was to have that type of relationship.

She shrugged. “We’re after the same things. He wants never to move from Beckett, and I don’t either. Our lives are tied up here. He’s an accountant, and we’re both busy. It’s pretty simple.”

They lapsed into silence. Josh wondered if in a few months he would even remember her.

“I hope no one else appears on your doorstep and wants shelter,” he remarked after a time. “I have two blankets, and I’d feel compelled to give him a blanket and let him sleep on the floor in the room I have.”

“I’ve turned off the porch light, and I can’t take anyone else. In the morning I’ll have to cook for thirty-five people. We barely have enough of certain food items, and my brother and sister are both out of town, so I’m without help. I can’t handle another person.”

“I’ll help you cook breakfast,” Josh volunteered, the words coming without thought.

She laughed softly. “Thanks. You don’t look like the type to have done much kitchen work.”

He grinned. “I’m a man of many talents,” he joked. “I’ve cooked. I’ve camped and cooked, cooked as a kid. Occasionally I cook at home, but rarely, I’ll admit. I can help. I can serve and that sort of thing.”

“Watch out, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“I mean it. I’ll help you,” he said, still wondering why he was so drawn to her. He should have gone to bed an hour ago or when he arrived. “What time will you begin cooking?”

“About six. You don’t have to get up that early.”

“I’m usually up that early. I’ll set the alarm on my phone,” he said, getting his phone from his pocket. “I haven’t had a call since I arrived,” he added, realizing that was a switch in his life, as different as so many other things about this night.

“You surely don’t get many calls at night.”

“Sometimes. Not getting any is a unique change in my life, and I can live with it tonight easily.” He put away his phone. “It’s like a holiday. Tell me more about your family.”

He settled back in the chair, listening and talking to her as the fire died into gray ashes. It was after one in the morning when she stood. “I should go to bed. Six a.m. will come soon.”

He stood to walk with her, stopping at the door to his room for the night. “I’ll see you at six. Thanks again for this room.”

“Thanks for offering to help in the morning. Good night, Josh.”

“Good night,” he replied in a husky voice, gazing into her eyes and as riveted as he had been the first moment he had seen her. Still puzzled by his reaction to her, he turned to his door.

Then he glanced down the hall to see her ponytail swing with each step as she walked away. There was nothing about her that should set his heart racing, but it did. He still wanted her in his arms, wanted to kiss her at least, before he left Beckett forever. What made his heart beat even faster were the slight reactions she’d had—her blue eyes widening, a sudden breathless moment in which neither of them spoke—that told him she had felt something, too. He didn’t intend to let that go by without doing something to satisfy his curiosity.

Two

Certain Josh stood watching her, Abby felt her back tingle as she walked to her door. What was it about him that made her heartbeat race and took her breath away? She hadn’t had that kind of reaction to anyone since she was a teenager. She occasionally dated Lamont Nealey, who lived close by. She had grown up friends with him, closer friends than with any other man, but he never stirred a quicker heartbeat. A slight physical contact with Lamont never made her tingle all over.

As she changed into flannel pajamas, she kept glancing at the door that separated her from Josh. She couldn’t shake her awareness of him so close at hand.

She smiled as she thought about his offer of help with breakfast because he had to be wealthy and influential. He probably had a lot of people working for him and keeping him from everyday tasks. She didn’t really expect him to pitch in and help.

* * *

The first thing Abby did on waking was slip into her robe and shove her feet into fuzzy slippers to walk to the window. While the wind continued to howl, she opened the drapes and stared at the falling snow. It meant more business, but she never lacked long for business. It was the third weekend in March. A snowstorm rarely occurred so late, but this had been a cold winter in Beckett. With more snow, no one would be leaving the inn, and her brother and sister couldn’t get home, so she had a day of work ahead of her.

She glanced at the closed door to the sitting room and wondered how Josh had fared on her short sofa. Her gaze went to the clock, and she hurried to shower.

She spent too long deciding what to wear, finally giving up and pulling on faded jeans, a green sweater and her suede boots. She had told Josh 6:00 a.m. but went to the kitchen half an hour earlier so she could get started alone.

At six on the dot she heard his boots against the wood floor, and her pulse speeded—something she wished wouldn’t happen.

“Good morning,” Josh said, bringing a dynamic charge into the air as he smiled at her. He had on a navy sweater, jeans and boots and looked like a cowboy in an ad in one of the Western magazines. “Or at least it’s a good snowy morning. I see more of the white stuff coming down.”

“Sorry. I think you’re stuck for a time. Did you get any sleep on the short sofa?”

“Yes, I did. I’m enormously grateful that I didn’t have to sleep in the lobby of your town’s only hotel.”

“I’m sure they would have let you sit in a chair all night.”

“They had some employees who couldn’t get home, so they were as booked up and as overcrowded as you. I think I was in the town’s only available taxi.”

“I know you were. We have only one taxi, with people taking different shifts to drive.”

He smiled. “What can I do to help? It looks as if you’ve been up awhile and working. How about I get the pots and pans washed?”

“Wonderful,” she said, surprised he would pick such a job. “I’m getting the breakfast casseroles made. The biscuit dough is rising. I’ll get the fruit and coffee soon. The table is ready. We’re moving along.”

“What you mean is, you’re moving along. Pretty good for working without any help. You will make someone a good wife,” he said, smiling at her as he crossed the kitchen.

“Are you interested?” she teased, certain there was no way he would have any designs on her—or anyone right now—as a wife. He had been about to pass her, but he stopped and turned to look at her. He stood close, and she wished she could take back her flirty remark.

“If I were looking for a wife, I would want to find out what other qualities you have along with capable, kindhearted and fun. Without looking for a wife, it might be interesting to find out,” he teased back, his eyes twinkling and making her insides flutter.

“I should have stuck to talking about what work needs to be done,” she whispered, wishing she weren’t breathless. “I don’t usually joke like that with the guests.”

“You mean flirt like that with the guests,” he said with amusement, and she could feel the blush that swept across her cheeks. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, and his smile vanished as he looked more intently at her. “Now I really do want to find out,” he said in a deeper tone of voice.

“No, you don’t. It wouldn’t possibly interest you. In every way,” she whispered, “I lead a quiet life without excitement, without the outside world intruding, without—” She stopped to stare at him.

“Without what?” he prompted, stepping closer, his gaze searching hers.

“If you wait a lifetime, you won’t get an answer from me on that one. It’s my fault we’re on a subject we don’t need to discuss. Let’s go back to talking about breakfast.”

“That makes what you said all the more interesting,” he remarked, placing his hands on both sides of her and hemming her in against the counter, leaning even closer. His eyes were a dark brown, his brown hair straight and neatly combed. His jaw was clean-shaven and she could detect the fresh smell of his aftershave. Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t get her breath.

“Josh, maybe I should take care of breakfast alone,” she said.

“I disturb you?”

“You’ve disturbed me since you rang the bell last night at ten,” she said bluntly. “I need to get back to breakfast before I burn something.”

A faint smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “My morning has started out better than I ever dreamed possible,” he said quietly and dropped his hands, moving back.

She passed him, going to the dining room even though she had the table set and ready. She opened a drawer in a buffet and got two serving spoons, moving without thinking about what she was doing, trying to give her pounding heart a chance to slow to normal.

For a moment she had thought he was going to kiss her. With the kind of reaction she had to him, she shouldn’t be alone with him. She didn’t need distraction from her routine life, or a charmer like Josh, a man who’d merely stopped in Beckett because of a storm. He was another man like her father. The charmer, the traveler, the businessman who could not settle or be faithful. Josh had the same knack for making friends with people he met, and any man with a private jet did a lot of traveling, constantly reminding her of her father. She shivered and turned back to work.

When the weather permitted, Josh would leave, and he would not return. Her heart did not need to get caught up with someone who would go on his way without a thought for Beckett or anyone who lived here.

Returning to the kitchen, she glanced at Josh as he stood at the sink filled with soapy water with his sleeves pushed up, his watch on the windowsill while he scrubbed pans. Amazed that he would work on a tedious, routine job he didn’t have to do, she went on to get breakfast, trying to forget Josh or her response when he had stood close or when he flirted.

They worked quietly together, but even as she concentrated on breakfast as the morning progressed, she was aware of Josh working nearby.

Though it was still early for breakfast, she heard shuffling in the hall. As she expected, her tenant Mr. Hickman entered the kitchen, smiling at her. “Good morning, Abby. You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Good morning, Mr. Hickman. Thank you. What can I do for you?”

He pulled his brown cardigan closer over his white shirt. “The snow has made me hungry. Can I get a poached egg and a piece of French toast? I don’t suppose that’s on the menu for this morning.”

“I’ll fix it for you and you can sit in here to eat. You remember our agreement?”

“Certainly. If I ask for something special, I’ll eat it in the kitchen so the others do not expect special favors,” he said, chuckling. “I brought yesterday’s paper because I don’t think we’ll get one today.”

“I don’t think we will, either. Josh, our latest guest, is helping. He can eat in here with you and keep you company,” she said, and Josh turned around, drying his hands. “Josh, meet Mr. Hickman. Mr. Hickman, this is Josh Calhoun from Verity and Dallas. He came late last night.”

“How do you do, Mr. Hickman,” Josh said, shaking the elderly man’s hand gently.

“Come join me for breakfast,” Mr. Hickman said.

“Mr. Hickman’s having a poached egg and French toast,” Abby told Josh. “Would you like that, too?”

“I’ve seen the breakfast casserole and the biscuits—I’d like them if you have enough.”

“We have plenty,” she said. “I’ll get coffee and juice for both of you.”

“Go on with what you have to do,” Josh said, “and I’ll take care of us. If you need help with serving out there, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” she replied, surprised again that he was willing to work.

It was after eight and she expected people to begin showing for breakfast, so she hurried to get things ready, poaching the egg and making French toast for Mr. Hickman. She wondered whether Josh minded sitting with him, but in minutes she heard them in conversation and realized Josh seemed happy talking to the elderly man and vice versa. She knew Mr. Hickman was happy, because he spent many long hours without anyone to talk to.

When the first guests came downstairs to be seated for breakfast, she picked up a large serving dish holding the casserole. Josh stepped in front of her, his fingers brushing hers as he took the dish from her. “Let me. You just fill the plates or whatever you do. I’ll take things to the dining room. I waited tables in college. I told Mr. Hickman I’d be right back, and he’s reading his paper.”

“You’re nice to sit with him,” she said.

“He reminds me of a grandfather I was close to. I like Mr. Hickman.”

She felt a pang. She realized she had been hoping Josh would disappoint her and not like eating in the kitchen or with the elderly man, which would cause her to lose some of her attraction for him. Instead, she was more drawn to him in spite of wishing she weren’t.

She handed the plates to him and went back to fill more. She wondered about his life, and if he had needed a job waiting tables to make the money to go to school. It had been late last night so she hadn’t looked him up on the web, but today she would do a little research on him.

Soon she was too busy dealing with her guests to think about Josh. Finally the dining room was empty and Mr. Hickman had gone to the living room, taking his paper with him.

“Now I’m going to have breakfast,” she told Josh, helping herself. “Can I get you something else?”

He stood to pour another cup of coffee. “I’ll get what I want. When you sit, I’ll join you.” He headed to the dining room and returned carrying dishes, which he placed in the sink. When she finally sat down at the table to eat, he picked up his cup of steaming coffee and sat facing her.

“So what did you and Mr. Hickman talk about?”

“He’s interesting. He’s a fisherman, so we talked about fishing holes and fly-fishing and the biggest trout caught around here, which of course was in a pond that had been stocked.”

“So you have time to fish on top of being a businessman and a rancher.”

“No, not as often as I’d like. I miss it.”

“Maybe this snow is good for you—chance to stop the constant work and enjoy life and that sort of thing,” she said.

“Oh, I know how to enjoy life,” he said quietly, giving her a look that made his remark personal.

“Relax, Josh. Enjoy this snow. I’d be as lost in your busy corporate world as you are in mine.”

“Do you like to dance?”

“I love to dance but do little of it. I don’t get out often. If I go out, it’s with Lamont Nealey, whom I’ve known forever—the friend I was telling you about last night. When we go out, we go to a movie or something on that order.”

“You think I’m missing out on life,” Josh said, “and I think you are. At the same time, I think we have a bit of common ground where we view life the same way. You’re a family person just as I’m a family person.”

“So tell me about your family.”

He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist with his thumb where he could feel her pulse. “Coward,” he accused her softly. “I’ll leave it alone now, but we’ll take up this subject again sometime soon.”

“You didn’t see the sign when you came in that reads ‘Guests do not flirt with the staff,’” she said, smiling at him.

“I sure as hell didn’t see any such sign, and if I had, I would pay no attention to it. Not when I get a response from the staff like the one I’m getting right now,” he said, his thumb pressing slightly on her wrist. “Your pulse is galloping.”

“That means nothing,” she said, too aware of his brown eyes that seemed alert, observant and curious.

“Not where I come from,” he retorted. “You want me to tell you what it means?”

“No. You tell me about your family or I’m going to join the guests in the living room.”

With a faint smile, Josh sat back in his chair. “I have three siblings,” he said. “Two older brothers, Mike and Jake, plus a younger sister, Lindsay.”

She listened, learning about his family but still knowing little about his background. From what he had said last night, she suspected a lot of Texans knew who he was. She had an idea he was well-known by wealthy Texas businessmen and probably by Texas socialites.

She was interrupted when a guest came for a late breakfast. As she served it, Josh poured coffee.

Through the morning he worked, doing whatever she needed, and he was a big help to her. Breakfast was over and the kitchen cleaned by a quarter past ten.

“Josh, thanks so much,” she said. “Now I’ll have a break before lunch, which I’m serving because of the weather. No one can get out for lunch.”

“I’m getting the hang of it. I can help with lunch.”

That surprised her—or maybe it shouldn’t have. “I’m taking a short break. Come back in a little while and we can get started.”

“Sure,” he said, jamming a hand in his pocket and leaving the kitchen.

As she headed out and walked past the library, Mr. Hickman lowered his paper and motioned to her to come in.

“Perhaps you should close the door,” he said, stirring her curiosity about what he wanted. “Do you know who your guest Josh Calhoun is? Or his company?”

“I don’t know much about him. He said his business is Calhoun Hotels, and he’s a rancher occasionally,” she said. “He’s just staying until the roads open, and then I’m sure he’ll be gone forever.”

“Oh, no. I think he’ll come back to fish with me.”

“I hope so, if that’s what you want, but he sounds as if he’s wrapped up in his work,” she said.

Mr. Hickman’s brow furrowed, and his watery blue eyes gazed into the distance. “Perhaps at the moment.” His attention returned to her, and he stared at her a moment before he smiled. “He asked a few questions about you. He’s a very nice young man. A knowledgeable fisherman, from his conversation. I liked him.”

“Well, that’s good, because he’s here for a few days.”

Mr. Hickman whispered, “If I were Josh Calhoun, I would ask you out to dinner.”

“I think Josh has a girlfriend,” she whispered back, not knowing whether he did or not, but wanting to stop Mr. Hickman from pursuing that topic with Josh or anyone else.

Mr. Hickman nodded. “Nice fella. Too bad.”

“Mr. Hickman, you like Lamont. That’s who I go out with sometimes.”

“If I were Lamont, I would not wait two or three months between dates. I would never have won my Barbara if I had done that.”

She smiled and patted his hand. “Lamont is nice, and we’re very much alike. That’s what counts.”

“Lamont is my accountant, and you’re my landlady. Frankly, I don’t think you’re as much alike as you seem to think.”

“Do not be a matchmaker, Mr. Hickman. I’m very happy with Lamont. Now I’m going to my room. Are you going upstairs?”

“No, I’ll sit and read the rest of yesterday’s paper,” he said. “You may leave the door open when you go.”

Smiling, she left to go to her room, but her smile faded when she glanced at the closed door between her bedroom and her sitting room, where Josh had slept. He was in his room now, just on the other side of the door. What was he doing? She thought about her reassurances to Mr. Hickman regarding how alike she and Lamont were and how happy she was going out with him. She gazed at the door as if looking at Josh instead and thought about how he had flirted and what fun she had had with him this morning—something that was totally lacking in her relationship with Lamont. Lamont was an old friend. There was none of the electricity that sparked between Josh and her, no flirting, no fun in that way.

She hadn’t stopped to think about it before. Was she really that happy with Lamont? Would they ever marry or just go through life as friends? What did she really want? She had never questioned her relationship with him.

Always, her thoughts turned to her parents—she never wanted to be hurt the way her mother had been when her father had walked out on them. Shaking her head as if she could get rid of thoughts about Josh, she knew Lamont was the type of man she needed in her life: steady, reliable, dependable. Those qualities were what counted and meant a satisfying life.

For an instant, a memory flashed of her father, who could coax a laugh from her and make the whole world seem magical. She focused on the inn, trying to avoid remembering how much she had loved her father. The hurt still came after all these years any time she recalled the shock when he’d suddenly left them.

She went to her computer and pulled up Calhoun Hotels and read about Josh’s business, but she found little actual information about him.

When she returned to the kitchen to start on lunch, she was surprised to discover Josh already had the table set and was preparing a pitcher of ice water.

“You’re a help. You don’t have to keep working. You’re a paying guest, so go do something enjoyable,” she said.

As he shook his head, he grinned. “I don’t mind, and it keeps me busy. It’s a change of pace for me and keeps my thoughts off what is piling up in my office while I’m gone.” He glanced out the window. “The snow has finally stopped.”

“I checked the weather report before coming down—we might get more before morning.”

“As soon as the roads open, I’ll rent a car and drive home. I can rent a car in Beckett, can’t I?”

“Oh, yes. We have car rental at the airport. But I don’t think you’ll get out tomorrow or the day after.”

“I don’t think so, either.”

She glanced at him. “You were nice to Mr. Hickman this morning. He enjoyed talking to you.” Why had she brought up Mr. Hickman when the elderly man was clearly trying to matchmake?

“Edwin Hickman is an interesting fellow, and I enjoyed talking to him, too. He told me more about Lamont Nealey.”

“Pay no attention to whatever Mr. Hickman said about Lamont.”