Tina Leonard - The Cowboy Soldier's Sons

Tempest hugged Blanche. “It’s all right. Don’t worry about me.”

“We do.” Shinny wrapped the two of them in his big, beefy arms.

Tempest closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the closeness. “I’m fine,” she said. “Truly. Thank you for letting me stay with you.” She went out the door, seeing that the moon hadn’t changed a bit since she’d left the cowboy soldier. Only in Tempest does time never seem to move.

She got into her rental car and drove around back, parking it in the garage of the only place that had ever seemed like “home” to her, a small southwestern, Pueblo-style adobe house that was clean and spare. It felt wonderful to unpack her bag, take a quick shower and melt into the soft bed.

Recalling the hungry way Shaman had kissed her warmed Tempest, settling her into a hazy place between wakefulness and slumber. Shinny and Blanche thought he was a solid man, a good man, if a loner. Tempest herself was a recluse, had been for years. Maybe that’s what she’d responded to—the sense of isolation people sometimes chose when they didn’t feel they deserved better.

He deserved better than her.

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER, Shaman hadn’t left Dark Diablo for even a grocery run. He had too much to do. So he stayed put, even though lust prodded him to go hunt down the beautiful woman who’d seduced him with sweet kisses.

He didn’t allow himself to think about her much—just about five hundred times a day. Instead, he worked on the barn Gage was determined to have torn down, and he spent time breaking the new mare Jonas Callahan had bought. Her name was Candy, but she was anything but sweet. Jonas was determined that this ebony mustang he’d gotten from a horse rescue society might be the basis for his equine program. He said she reminded him of the black Diablo mustangs that were rumored to run through the canyons of Rancho Diablo, but Shaman wasn’t sure Candy had anything mystical or magical in her. She was bad-tempered and stubborn, maybe not even a diamond in the rough.

Only Jonas would want a wild mustang for his equine program. Not exactly a quality ride—and yet Shaman relished the chance to learn, and to shape the animal’s spirit. It had to be done just right: slowly, patiently.

One thing a man learned in the military was patience.

He ran his hand lightly over the mare’s neck, making certain the lead rope wasn’t too tight. She did have a shiny coat and beautiful brown eyes. It was the attitude that he had to work on.

“Hi.”

When Shaman heard the voice behind him, he knew at once that it belonged to the sweet angel who’d ditched him.

“Easy, Candy,” he said, taking his time turning to face his visitor. She was dressed in blue jean capris and a filmy pink top today, a sexy dream destined to keep him sleepless. “Hello, Cupertino.”

She seemed surprised by what he’d called her. He shrugged. It was her name, and he wasn’t much for anything fake. “What brings you out here?”

She held up a picnic basket. It was high noon and hot; he was sweaty and had been alone with his thoughts too long. “The rain check,” she said. “I’m sorry I had to leave the other night.”

“No, you’re not.” He ignored the basket and gently tugged Candy forward by the lead rope. The mare didn’t seem too disposed to be pliable, and Shaman moved carefully so she wouldn’t shy away. “But that’s okay. I’m not much of a guy for talking during meals.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He ignored that, too, drawing Candy in a circle. “What’s in the basket?”

“Veggie wraps, made by Shinny and Blanche. Cheese and crackers. Some white wine. White-chocolate pretzels and strawberries. They said you and your family are vegetarian.”

He kept the woman waiting for a few minutes, drawing out his surrender to her. Candy kicked up a hoof, trying to show him that she might be on a lead, but that didn’t mean she was giving up any of her sassy spirit.

“Sounds good,” he finally said. “Why don’t you take it into the kitchen, put it on the table and leave it for me?”

She stared at him. “I...know you’re not much for conversation, but I’d really hoped...”

He looked at her directly, daring her to be honest. “Hoped for what?”

After a moment, she said, “I’m not sure.”

She wasn’t being honest. And he demanded honesty. “Just leave it in the kitchen,” he told her. “Tell Shinny and Blanche thanks. And I sent your bag to Cat this morning, with Jonas.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to leave it here.”

“Yeah, you did.” He wasn’t going to give her an inch.

She didn’t say anything, and he felt her indecision. After a minute, the tall, gorgeous blonde carried the picnic basket to the farmhouse, disappearing inside. He stayed outside with Candy, never looking toward the house, yet listening for the sound of her white Land Rover to start up. After thirty minutes, when he didn’t hear it, he put Candy away with a hose-down she despised and a rub she tried to kick him for as her equine thank-you. Then he let her go, after putting out hay for her to eyeball with wild eyes. She galloped off to forage for herself—but he knew she’d remember that treats were here and always available after training.

She’d remember, and she’d have to make up her mind to cool her attitude just a bit, day by day.

He went inside the house, took off his boots. The picnic basket wasn’t on the table. Instead, the table had been set, with white wine in the glasses. Tempest was asleep on the sofa, her long, silky hair falling over her shoulder.

He could stand here all day, doing nothing more than stare at her.

But she hadn’t come here to be stared at.

“Cupertino,” he said, “wake up.”

She came awake, her big blue eyes widening when she saw him standing over her. “Thanks for the grub,” he said. “Either you go now or you stay. If you stay, know that I intend to love you like you’ve never been loved.”

She didn’t move, but kept her wide eyes locked on his, with that same angelic look she’d worn two nights before.

“Fair warning,” he said, taking her hand and drawing her from the sofa. “Get the strawberries. I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

She made a move to do as he requested, but when he started slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse, she didn’t pull away. Shaman kissed her, ravaging her mouth, not bothering to hide the fact that he wanted her like mad. She moaned, and he murmured, “Rain check later,” and carried her down the hall.

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER, Shaman waved to the demolition crew who’d come to raze the barn, his brother Gage standing nearby to help oversee it with him. Today was the day, a big day. Finally, they could begin the complete rebuilding of Dark Diablo. Tearing down the barn and bunkhouse was necessary in the vision Jonas Callahan had for his vast acreage.

It was good to tear down old and build new. Cleared out ghosts.

“What is that?” Gage demanded, his vision not on the crew’s heavy equipment, as it should have been, but on the fabulous blonde leaving the farmhouse after a very satisfying night spent in Shaman’s arms.

“Looks like a woman to me,” he said. “Focus, bro. We’ve got a job to do here.”

“I know it’s a woman. In fact, I know who it is.” Gage stared at him. “What I want to know is why she’s here.”

Shaman shrugged. “Cupertino hangs around on occasion, brings me a meal or two.”

His brother was agog. “Not you.”

He shrugged again. “Guess so.”

They watched the blonde get in her Land Rover and drive away. Shaman always hated to see her go. He never knew if she’d return. She usually came around dinnertime, and stayed through the night, letting him worship her between the sheets.