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The Cowboy's Second Chance. Christyne ButlerЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Cowboy's Second Chance - Christyne Butler


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offered a breathless token of gratitude. The lady at the fairgrounds. The same lady who’d interrupted him getting his ass kicked and then refused to go away.

      Was it a dream? Had he really kissed her?

      Landon ignored her question and the pain shooting through his body. “What are—where am I?” He straightened, tunneling his fingers through his hair.

      They sat in his parked, idling truck. He peered into the darkness. Thanks to the glow of a porch light, he could make out the outline of a house.

      “My place.”

      He swung around to face her, and the throbbing intensified. Landon cradled his forehead in his hand. “What the hell am I doing here?”

      “You needed a place to sleep.”

      “Lady, are you crazy? You don’t know me.”

      She withdrew to the steering wheel, her face now hidden in the shadows. “Was I supposed to leave you in the parking lot for the sheriff? I guarantee I can provide a more comfortable bed than the local jail.”

      The image of a barren room with bars flashed before his eyes. It was quickly pushed aside by another image, springing fully formed in his head before he could stop it.

      The two of them, in a bed this time, tangled in crisp, clean sheets. Him flat on his back, her hands spread across his shoulders as he cradled her hips. She leaned forward and her curtain of blond hair hid them from the outside—

      Landon squeezed his eyes closed to erase the fantasy. Another sharp ache pounded in his head—as demanding as the one pressed against his fly.

      “I know I keep asking, but are you—”

      “I’m fine.” It was a lie, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her what was in his mind.

      The truck started to move. Landon opened his eyes, and watched her back toward a large barn that loomed out of the darkness.

      She slowed to a stop. “Willie’s opening the barn doors—”

      “Who’s Willie?”

      “He works here for—”

      “I’ll help him.”

      Landon tugged on the door handle and nearly fell out the cab. He grabbed his hat before it hit the ground and slammed the door closed.

      The last thing he needed was this angel of mercy asking him again if he was okay. He wasn’t. Wasn’t close to being okay after the vision he had of the two of them together.

      Where in the hell had that come from?

      He’d had plenty of chances to be with a woman since his release. Every town he’d worked in had bars and honky-tonks filled with ladies who didn’t care where you came from or where you were going. Women who wanted the attention they weren’t getting at home. He’d never been attracted to any of them. Hell, long before his conviction he’d lost any desire to be physically close to the opposite sex.

      Amazing what deception could do to a man.

      Burying the memory, Landon reached for the barn doors. He shoved, and they opened easily, thanks to the elderly cowboy on the other side. Had this old timer seen what’d happened in the truck? Did he care?

      The man offered a curt nod. “Nice to see you on your feet.”

      Landon nodded in return. “Thanks. You must be Willie.”

      They moved aside when the trailer crossed the threshold.

      G.W. Damn!

      He’d started for the barn’s interior when another wave of dizziness hit him. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he fought off the unsteadiness and noticed the square piece of blue cloth in his grasp. A deep breath pulled in the smell of fresh linen and a hint of something spicy. It made him feel…peaceful.

      He shoved the handkerchief into his jeans, next to the locket, and entered the barn at the same time as his lady rescuer. She flicked a switch and a circle of light sprang to life overhead. The occupants responded with low neighs.

      “Hush, now,” she said, then turned to him. “Okay, let’s get your horse out of this trailer.”

      Landon watched the woman, still not understanding how he’d ended up with her and this antique cowboy in the first place. He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away the pain behind his eyes. “Ah, I’m a bit confused—”

      “Not surprising considering the blow you’ve taken to the ol’ noggin,” Willie said with a hint of mockery. “You look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet.”

      “You told me no sheriff,” the woman said, opening the trailer’s gate. “But someone had to look you over, and both you and your horse needed a place to sleep. Willie took care of the first, and the second will be done as soon as we get this animal into a clean stall.”

      Landon dropped his hand and watched as she lowered the ramp to the floor. She put a foot on the edge, but Willie stopped her.

      “Some cowboys think of their horses like they do their women.” He pulled the lady a few steps back. “Don’t want nobody else touching ’em. The first couple of stalls are empty. Take your pick.”

      Landon stared hard at the old man then nodded and walked inside the trailer. He ran his hand along G.W.’s coat and dropped his head to rest against his warm mane. He drew in the familiar comfort of his friend before backing him out of the trailer and into a stall.

      Grabbing his duffel bags and ice chest, he dropped his stuff on a low bench outside the stall. Another bout of dizziness hit him, but he pushed it away.

      “She does this a lot.”

      Landon looked up, surprised to see it was only him and Willie in the barn.

      “Can’t resist helping someone who’s downtrodden,” Willie continued. “Been that way since she was a little bit. Doesn’t matter if it’s a rangy dog or a broke-down cowboy, she’s always there to offer a hot meal and a warm bed.”

      Landon didn’t know which the old man considered him to be. “Is that so?”

      “She doesn’t expect anything in return and that’s usually what she gets, but I’ve been here since God was a boy, and part of my job is looking out for my boss. I don’t want her hurt.”

      Wait a minute.

      Landon blinked. Did he say boss?

      Chapter Three

      “Yeah, you heard me right. She’s the one in charge around here. We haven’t been properly introduced. Willie Perkins.” He stuck out his hand.

      Landon took it, not surprised at the strong grip. “Landon Cartwright.”

      “At least you know who ya are. Come on, I’ll fix ya up in the bunk—”

      “No, thanks. I’ll stay here.”

      Willie’s bushy white brows arched high. “In the barn?”

      Landon pulled his hand free. “Yeah, I’ve slept in worse places. Believe it or not, I’ve been in fights before, too.”

      “Now, why don’t that surprise me? We got enough trouble around here, you hear?”

      “Look, old man. I didn’t ask for her help. Or yours. And trouble is the last thing I’m looking for.”

      Willie stared back at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll park your truck by the house. You get the doors.”

      He didn’t wait for a reply. Minutes later, Willie walked by and tossed him the keys before disappearing into the bunkhouse. Pocketing them, Landon closed one barn door, then stopped. His eyes drifted across the yard to the light spilling from a window in the main house.

      Who was this lady? Did


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