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  “Oh lord.”

  Wyatt chuckled. “You don’t want a husband and family?”

  She uttered a sharp bark of laughter, the sound bitter to her ears. “Wyatt, I wouldn’t even begin to know how such a thing works. I got this place and my animals. Figure I can make do with that.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his casual shrug but couldn’t help the little stab of disappointment in her gut.

  “Speaking of animals, where’s Snoop?”

  Haley snorted. “Wiry-haired mongrel deserted me for the Dooley kids.”

  He turned that sinful grin on her. “And the bird?”

  “I’m seriously considering frying him up for supper the next time you’re over.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if I see poultry on the table.”

  As they broke through a grove of live oaks, Snoop barked and loped toward them.

  “At least he remembers who I am.”

  “No worries, darlin’, he’ll come home soon as those kids wear him out. But I reckon we could stop at the pound when we’re in Austin, see if they have any likely prospects—just in case.”

  * * * * *

  Saturday arrived sooner than Haley would have wanted and she sat on the front porch, waiting for Tracie to arrive, praying she wouldn’t. Haley had never willingly set foot in a bar, other than to drag her brother out before he got himself beaten senseless for messing with another man’s woman. She didn’t particularly want to go to the Horsin’ Around Saloon but she’d told Tracie she’d go with her and go she would. Besides, she’d never had a girlfriend before and it was an experience she was looking forward to. A horn sounded and she looked up, following the progress of the dust trail as a bright yellow Ford Ranger sped up the lane.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Tracie called as she got out of the truck. She grabbed small duffel from the back of the truck and bounded up the stairs. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Haley held the door open and Tracie swooped inside. “What’s in the bag?”

  Tracie laughed. “Don’t look so scared,” she teased. Clearly, Haley hadn’t been able to hide her trepidation. “It’s just some makeup and stuff. Is that what you’re wearing? Where’s your bedroom?”

  “Upstairs, end of the hallway.” Haley looked down at her sleeveless shirt made of pink, plaid cotton. “What’s wrong with it?” She figured she must have done something wrong because Tracie laughed gaily.

  “It’s fine, for going to Petrie’s or the grocery store but it’ll never do for a night on the town.” Tracie hurried up the stairs and Haley followed, listening to the girl’s chatter. “You’ll never catch yourself a cowboy dressed like that.”

  “I don’t wanna catch a cowboy.” And she didn’t. She’d spent enough time around the rodeo to know she wasn’t interested in some good-time man, here one minute and gone the next. Fact was she wasn’t sure she wanted a man. She’d experienced firsthand just how shiftless they could be.

  Tracie opened Haley’s closet. “What have you got against cowboys?”

  Haley plopped down on the bed and watched her new friend rummage through her clothes. “How much time do you have?”

  Tracie sighed and turned to look at Haley. “You have nothing to wear,” she complained. “Lucky for you we’re about the same size and I’ve brought a few things for you to try on. So start talking while you’re trying on these tops.”

  Haley unbuttoned her shirt and draped it across her pillow. “I don’t hate cowboys,” she explained. “It’s just that I’ve been around them all my life. Pa had me on the rodeo circuit soon as he figured out I could sit a horse and not fall off.” She pulled on a skimpy purple tank top and looked at herself in the mirror. “Uh-uh, no way I’m wearing this. Too low cut.”

  “But you’ve got great boobs,” Tracie insisted. “If you got it, you should flaunt it.”

  Haley chuckled. “I’ll admit it looks good but they’ll arrest me for indecent exposure.” She pulled off the offending garment and tried on a cute peasant top that hung off her shoulders. “I’m not going around braless in a room full of men.”

  Tracie rolled her eyes and rummaged some more, coming up with a gray sleeveless turtleneck made from some kind of clingy material. When Haley put it on, she clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s the one. It’s perfect for you. No cleavage but it shows off those gorgeous curves and it will look great with those low rise jeans.” She went back to rummaging in the closet. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many pairs of boots outside the Boot Barn. How did you ever afford them all?”

  “Won most of them as part of the winning purse at one rodeo or another. Got a few saddles that way, too.” Haley turned sideways, admiring the way the slinky gray shirt showed off her figure. Clothes had never played a big part in her life. Oh, she had some Western show clothes but the rest of her closest was filled with cotton shirts, mostly plaid or pinstripe, sleeveless, short sleeved, or long sleeved. Nothing dressy, nothing girly.

  “Well, these are perfect for what you’re wearing.” Tracie held up a pair of Ferrini boots made of distressed cowhide in a marbled brown. They were one of the fancier pair she owned, with turquoise and bone stitching and a twelve-inch shaft. “Now, for the right belt and hat and we’ll start on your hair and makeup.”

  Haley stood in front of the mirror, barely able to recognize the woman looking back at her. The boots added a couple extra inches of height and the bronze leather belt with sapphire rhinestones accentuated a roundness to her hips she’d never known existed. Tracie had used a very light touch with the makeup, giving her what she told Haley was a smoky eye, then accenting her lips with a translucent pink lip stain. A tiny bit of peachy blush brought out her cheekbones. “I can’t believe it’s me,” she marveled.

  “You look awesome,” Tracie agreed. “Now, don’t forget your jean jacket. They’ll have the air conditioner cranked up.” Tracie gave her a hug. “You are gonna knock those boys off their feet.”

  For the first time in her life, Haley thought, she might just turn a head or two. This having a girlfriend thing might turn out to be as much fun as she’d always imagined it would.

  * * * * *

  The Horsin’ Around Saloon was located on a two-lane stretch of blacktop off 290 near Harper, almost exactly halfway between Junction and Kerrville. The parking lot was dirt and gravel, filled with pickups and cars, some having seen better days, other shiny and new. The building was massive, built to resemble a red clapboard barn, the paint faded from the Texas sun.

  Tracie gave her a little nudge when they got out of the truck. “Come on. Nobody’s gonna bite you.”

  “Tracie, I don’t know how to dance.” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “What if somebody asks me to dance? I’ll look like a dang rodeo clown.”

  Tracie wrapped an arm around her shoulder and eased her toward the door. “Honey, I can guarantee you somebody’s gonna ask you to dance. Nobody says you have to. Just sit and enjoy the music, have a couple of beers. Once you relax a little, it’ll come natural to you.”

  Haley snorted. “Says you.” But she let Tracie angle her through the door and paid her cover charge like a good little chickenshit.

  The inside was typical roadhouse. A bar as long as a stretch of Texas highway filled one wall, manned by four bartenders. It was separated from the rest of the bar by wrought iron fencing to keep people from falling on the step down. Pub tables lined the walls two deep, leaving a wide isle for people to pass without knocking them over on the way to the restrooms in the back. The rest of the saloon was given over to a huge, hardwood dance floor and more tables than Haley had seen in one place in her whole life. The band perched on a raised stage surrounded by a chicken wire cage. That didn’t bode well for the evening’s festivities.

  Tracie hustled Haley to a table close to the dance floor and sauntered off to get a pitcher of Coors. She returned with the beer, three mugs, and a tall, good-looking man with hair the color of ripe wheat and the greenest eyes Haley had ever seen.


  “Ben Bell, meet Haley Kilpatrick.” She smiled at Haley as the two sat down. “Ben’s the best vet in Junction.”

  Oh my, but wasn’t he something to look at, decked out in a cream-colored Western shirt with brown leather piping?

  “Pleased to meet you, Haley. I was your aunt’s vet. I hear you might be setting up a breeding program out at the One-Eyed Jack. You’ve got a pregnant mare?”

  “I do and I’ve been meaning to call you and have you check her out.”

  He nodded. “Be happy to.” He pulled out his wallet and fished out a business card. “Give me a call and we’ll schedule a day for me to come out.” He poured beers for everyone and settled comfortably into his seat. “I’ve seen you race in Austin a couple of times. You’re good, and that stud of yours is quite the athlete.”

  Haley beamed. “He is. Raised him from a foal. There’s no better stud. Molly’s foal will be his first. I can’t wait to see how he produces.”

  The band took the stage and got the party started. Ben Bell held out his hand. “Dance with me?” He chuckled at the panic that must have been apparent on her face. “Not a dancer, I take it.”

  “Nope. In fact, this is my first time in a place like this…other than dragging my little brother out before he got to fighting over some woman.”

  Ben winced. “Ouch. So, you’re probably not thrilled to be here.”

  “Tracie wanted to come so I figured I’d tag along. Keep her outta trouble.”

  Tracie uttered a delighted laugh. “That’s so sweet.” She accepted the hand of a cowboy asking her to dance and gave him a flirty smile. “Y’all have fun talking, I’m gonna dance.” She disappeared into the mass of people circling the dance floor. That was pretty much the way the whole night went.

  * * * * *

  Somewhere around midnight, and several beers too many, Haley looked up to see Wyatt pull up a chair beside her. Where had he come from?

  “Having fun?” he asked, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

  “I don’t know as you’d call it fun,” she admitted, voice slurring. “I believe I’ve had too much to drink, can’t feel my feet.”

  He chuckled and Haley thought it was probably the sexiest sound she’d ever heard, that deep rumble that seemed to start in the center of his chest and work its way up. She rested her elbow on the table, chin in her hand but it slid off and she lurched in her chair. “You sure are pretty,” she said with a sigh, leaning precariously on the edge of her seat.

  Wyatt gave a shout of laughter. “Come on, sweet pea, let’s get you home.”

  “Can’t. Came with Tracie. Gotta look out for her.”

  “Tracie’s fine. Ben’s gonna make sure she gets home.” He pulled her to her feet, which didn’t seem to want to work properly. One went one way, the other another.

  “Woopsie,” she crowed. “My feet’r tangled up in something.” She looked down, trying to find whatever it was.

  “Tangled up in beer, I expect. You ain’t much of drinker, are ya?” She offered up a snorty little laugh and he leaned down, pulled her over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. “Time to go, darlin’.” She whooped a laugh. “Say good night to the nice people.”

  “G’nite nice people!”

  * * * * *

  Haley was pretty sure she was dying. The most she’d ever had to drink at one sitting was two beers. The pounding in her head spoke volumes about her capacity to hold her liquor. She groaned and pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, thanking the stars that she had Dooley around to feed the stock in the morning. A shower was definitely the first order of the day. Then coffee.

  Oh god, the hot water running on the back of her neck felt better than anything, ever. She could almost feel the beer coming out of her pores. If she ever looked at another, it would be too soon. She scrubbed up, got out of the shower and toweled off, nose going in the air when the smell of coffee hit her. God bless Maria’s little heart. She dressed in jeans and a sleeveless cotton shirt, jammed her feet into her most comfortable boots, and hurried downstairs. She blinked, figuring the beer must have done something to her eyesight. Was that Wyatt Brody in her kitchen?

  He smiled up at her as she stood on the last step. “How do you take your coffee?”

  Well, shit. Had she slept with him and not even known it? She did a quick survey of her body, focusing on the area most likely to be affected by a sexual encounter. Nope, no soreness. Would have been a damn shame to miss her first time because she was drunk.

  “I slept on your couch. Didn’t wanna leave you alone in case you needed help in the night. You were pretty drunk.” White-hot heat rushed to her face and he took pity on her. “Happens to the best of us every now and again. No need to be embarrassed.”

  She took the coffee he offered her and took a seat at the island. “Never gotten drunk before,” she muttered. “Can’t say I understand the attraction. I feel like I been trampled by a herd of elephants and don’t know I’m dead yet. I…did I behave myself?”

  That sexy chuckle rumbled and he grinned at her. “Well, you told me I sure was pretty.”

  Haley groaned and banged her head on the granite countertop. “Oh god. I’m never drinking again.”

  Wyatt took a seat beside her and sipped at his coffee. “Oh, I don’t know, you’re kind of cute when you’re drunk and I kind of like that you think I’m pretty.”

  “Well, shit. At least I didn’t strip naked and dance the hoochey-coochey.”

  “Nope. No dancing at all from what I hear.” He patted her on the back. “It’s all right, sweet pea, your secret’s safe with me. Now, how about I pick you up in the morning and we go get the rest of your stock?”

  Haley rested her cheek on the cool granite and squinted at him. “You sure you wanna be seen in public with a drunkard?”

  “I’m sure. So long as I can trust you to keep your hands to yourself.” He gave her a wink, slid out of his seat, and strutted to the door.

  “Very funny,” she grumped, winging a woven straw trivet at his head.

  He caught it in midair and laughed. “You’re mean when you’re hung over.”

  She sat up and pointed imperiously at the door. “Out. Just…out.”

  * * * * *

  Wyatt picked Haley up at seven the next morning and they drove into town to have breakfast at Margie’s Diner. The significance of taking her to Margie’s was lost on Haley but Wyatt knew the implications beyond a shadow of a doubt. By taking her to Margie’s, where he’d had his breakfast every morning since the death of his father, the message was loud and clear. Haley Kilpatrick was his and woe to any other man who tried to put the moves on her. He figured it was just a matter of time before every round heel in the county sat up and took notice of the pretty horse trainer and he was making it known she was off the market before she was even on.

  He’d been looking forward to this day ever since he offered to help collect her stock. It was a five-hour round trip, not to mention the time it would take to load up the animals, so he’d be spending the better part of the day with Haley—a circumstance he found appealing on several levels. She wasn’t the most forthcoming woman he’d ever met, one of the few he’d come across that didn’t like to talk about herself. He didn’t know if that was because she preferred to keep her private life private, or if it was because she had secrets. Most folks had secrets and if she wanted to keep hers to herself, well, he couldn’t blame her. Still, there was a sadness about her that he felt compelled to alleviate. And wasn’t that just the damndest thing? He’d begun to wonder if he’d ever feel this way about a woman. But there it was. Before he saw it coming, Haley had come to mean something to him.

  “So, where are we going, exactly?” he asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Just this side of Austin. A little nothing dirt ranch. It ain’t exactly the middle of nowhere but you can see it from there if ya squint.” She paused, took a deep breath. “It’s my brother’s place.”

  There was a cautionary tone t
o the words. “And?”

  She halfway turned in her seat. “And he don’t have much to recommend him. He’ll likely be riled when I tell him I’m taking the stock.”

  Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Does he own an interest in them?”

  Haley snorted. “Hell no. Conner figures he’ll drown if he breaks a sweat. I bought those mares with my own money and I got the papers to prove it.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Then I guess he can blow up a blue norther’ all he wants but we’ll still take the horses.” He drove in silence for a few more minutes. “You wanna tell me about him?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “He’s three years younger than me. Spoiled to the point of thinking the world owes him a living. My daddy went to prison when I was sixteen and Conner became my responsibility. I’ve been taking care of him ever since.”

  He’d seen it before, no-account men who expected the women in their lives to support them while they lay around and did nothing. No doubt the brother was part of the pain he saw in Haley’s eyes. She was world-weary and he figured she’d be a tough nut to crack when it came to letting any man get close to her.

  “So, your pa’s doing time.”

  Haley sighed. “Hard time. Ten to fifteen for a knife fight in a bar.”

  “Do you see him much? How long’s he been in?”

  “I used to, but I haven’t visited in a while. He’s been in going on nine years now. Figured him being locked up was my ticket out from under. I’ve supported him and Conner most of my life. Not no more.”

  “Good. That’s good.” Her silence and sudden fascination with the view outside the passenger window spoke volumes about Haley’s frame of mind. Had to figure she was dreading what was coming. Probably a little sick to her stomach at the prospect of revealing too much to him. Fearful of what he might think. Anxious about her brother’s behavior. If her brother was the type of man Wyatt suspected, there were sure to be fireworks. He just hoped Haley could stick to her guns. The ride continued, mostly in silence, until they got closer and she gave him directions down miles of dusty Texas road.