The Christmas Cowboy. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.
her legs.
He led her to the gate, his arm still around her and holding her against the long, lean length of him. In spite of his going very slowly, she almost felt like asking him to carry her, but she wouldn’t give in to that urge.
When he got her out of the corral, he asked, “Can you make it from here?”
She wanted to say yes, but her legs were still wobbly. “I—I think I can make it.”
He shook his head and scooped her off her feet. “Never mind. I’ll take you into the kitchen.”
She didn’t say anything. She was afraid he’d put her down.
When he got to the kitchen, he lowered her onto a chair.
Andrea could barely get words past her dry throat, but she pulled herself together enough to say, “Thank you, Hank.”
“No problem.” But he continued to lean over her, his face entirely too close.
She noticed for the first time how great he smelled. The outdoors, the crispness of the weather, the scent of leather. All infused her senses.
Hank looked her right in the eye and she could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a smile on his mouth.
But he pulled back quickly and made for the door. “Tell Jess not to count on me for dinner.” He threw the words over his shoulder. “I’m going into town.”
Andrea was surprised by how disappointed she felt.
AMAZING. HER MUSCLES felt so much looser after she’d soaked in the Epsom-salts bath. She didn’t want to get out of the tub, but hunger pains drove her. She stood and reached for a fluffy towel. Sighing, she ran the towel over her body. She was tempted to crawl into bed, but she needed that steak Jessica was making.
Besides, if she didn’t show for dinner, Hank might hear about it and think he’d managed to win the contest.
She pulled up short. Contest? Why did she seem to want to best him all the time, as if she needed to prove herself? She had every right to be the student, to be sore, to be a “dude.” There was no harm in that. After all, she was out here to learn.
But there was something about Hank…
Somehow she felt she always needed to be on guard around him, to put up a strong facade—or else he’d see the weak, vulnerable woman underneath.
The woman who kept a secret.
The woman who could fall for him.
She stopped herself right there. That line of thinking could do no good, so she quickly dressed and went downstairs, limping only slightly.
She found Jessica already putting dinner on the table.
“I’m not late, am I?” she asked with a hesitant smile.
Jessica turned around. “I was just about to see how you were doing. I’m glad you made it down.”
“Those special bath salts you gave me are miraculous. Thanks. I thought I’d never walk again when I first got off Moonbeam.”
Jessica laughed. “Well, I think you did very well.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, this is easy. Wait until you see the kitchen function when we have a full house.”
“I’m sure it’s a lot of work, but I bet it’s fun, too.”
“Actually, it has been fun—ever since Jim got here.”
“I guess so, since you married him,” Andrea said with a laugh.
“Oh, yes, that made it fun, but more importantly, he took care of my problems with my brothers. After our parents died and I got the idea of opening a dude ranch, Hank and Pete thought they could overrule me. Anything I wanted to do, they said no. It was a mess!”
“That must’ve been difficult.”
“Aw, she’s just teasing. They wanted to do everything she said,” a deep voice said behind the two women.
Jim smiled at them when they faced him. “Well, maybe there was a little friction,” he said as his wife stepped into his ready arms.
Jim stole a quick kiss and as Andrea watched the two of them, so obviously in love, she felt lonesome for the first time in her life.
When Jim let go of his wife, he said to Andrea, “Glad to see you’re still able to walk.”
“Yes, thanks to the Epsom salts.”
“Hank worked you hard, I guess.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Hank said he was going into town,” Andrea explained, remembering that moment with him earlier in the kitchen.
Jim frowned. “I wanted to talk to him.”
Andrea knew what he meant. Once again she felt a rush of disappointment.
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