Cathleen Galitz - The Cowboy Who Broke The Mold

Was it that perfume she wore, a subtle blend of flow- ers and musk, that tempted him to disregard the mis- takes of the past and recklessly indulge in the possibil- ities of the moment? Angrily, Judson reminded himself that no fragrance was powerful enough to cover the stench of prejudice. He was no longer a schoolboy to be won over by the batting of long eyelashes and the promise of happily-ever-afters that ultimately disinte- grated beneath public scrutiny. That lesson was per- manently etched upon his back.

The problem, Judson told himself, was simply that he was a warm-blooded man who had been a long time without a woman’s touch. Apparently far too long. Maybe it was time to reconsider sexy Estelle Hanway’s unconditional standing invitation into her bed. If that were the case, he wondered why the thought held even less appeal than usual today.

Deliberately he inserted a cool tone of indifference in his voice. “After I show you to your winter transportation, you’ll need to go into town to buy some supplies. Other than a few conveniences at the gas station, Atlantic City doesn’t have anything in the way of groceries so Lander’s your best choice. And I’d suggest you stock up on canned goods. You won’t get many chances to run to town, and there’s always the possi- bility of an early September snow. I’d hate for you to starve to death during a blizzard.”

Carrie doubted it. For some inexplicable reason the man seemed to despise her. That way he had of looking right through her made her feel as insignificant as a gnat, and she had the feeling that he would, in fact, be elated by the thought of her frozen demise.

Mutely, she followed him outside to a spot behind the trailer.

Pointing at a dusty heap, Judson calmly disclosed, “That’s how you get out in the winter.”

Covered with a tarp and a layer of dust sat a massive snowmobile.

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

Carrie could no more envision herself astride this monstrosity than she could see herself climbing atop a raging bull. She was as stunned by the fact that she was going to have to somehow learn how to drive this for- midable contraption as she was by the tremendous amount of wood stacked against the backside of the schoolhouse. Surely it was excessive. The winters couldn’t possibly be as severe as this infuriating man would lead her to believe.

Judson didn’t have to say a word. That I-told-you-so look of his said it all loud and clear.

Pushing his hat back on his head, he regarded her as a little lamb lost. When he informed her that it was time for him to get going, Carrie merely looked at him blankly in response. He felt compelled to add in expla- nation as he turned to go, “Look, I’ve got a date, but if you want to, you can follow me into Lander. It’s the nearest town from here.”

Judson deliberately withheld the fact that his “date” was nothing more than picking up his children. He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t want Carrie knowing just how unattached he was—that he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been on a real date. But he decided if the way his libido was presently holding his brain hostage was any indication, it was definitely time to remedy that Preferably with a woman who had zero expectations of any commitment. There were only two things in this world that Judson Horn was truly committed to. And right now he was half an hour late picking them up from the baby-sitter’s.

Carrie felt as if she had been sucker-punched. She blamed her reaction less on the fact that this handsome cowboy was involved in a relationship than on the re- alization that he was heading right toward that beautiful red-and-black pickup. The instant she had seen it parked in front of the school, she had assumed that the brand- new vehicle was the transportation provided in her con- tract. That it, in fact, belonged to Judson could only mean that the old bomber in which she had been driven here was to be hers.

Swallowing her disappointment, Carrie stammered, “Th-that’s all right. I want to get settled in. You go on, and don’t worry about me…But before you go…could you possibly…”

It pained her to have to ask Judson for help, but al- though she was initially skeptical about the horned menace, her introduction to myriad new fauna had Carrie worried that the area was indeed teeming with exotic perils.

“There’s, uh, that little matter of those jackalopes…”

At the reminder, Judson’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” he said, snapping his fin- gers. “Wait here just a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Just what was it about that crooked smile that made her heart thump so frantically? Conscious of the quiver in her stomach, Carrie watched him saunter over to the pickup. Unable to tear her eyes away from his snug jeans, she told herself that it was ridiculous for her to be feeling this way. Aside from the fact that the last thing she needed right now in her life was any romantic attachment, this particular man had made it quite clear that he not only didn’t like her much, he was dating someone else. Judging by those drop-dead good looks, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had an entire harem at his disposal.

Plainly, Judson Horn was off limits, and that was all there was to that. Thank God and good riddance to any future heartache.

Returning momentarily with rope in hand, he began fastidiously fashioning a snare. Fascinated by the sight of rough hemp manipulated by his strong, masculine hands, Carrie felt her mouth grow dry.

Realizing that this would be something she herself would be expected to master, she asked with a shaky sigh, “Would you mind teaching me how to do that?”

“Not at all.”

That lazy, irresistible grin instantly disarmed her, spreading warmth throughout her body and leaving a hot blush upon her cheeks. Surely that trademark smile had won him many a skirmish! As Judson reached around her and began guiding the rope through her fingers, Carrie swallowed a sharp intake of air. Trapped in his arms and surrounded by his woodsy scent, she could feel the shivers tripping up and down her spine. Though her mind urged her to run away, her body seemed pow- erless to obey.

“Think you can manage that?” he asked, pulling the rope into a small noose.

Was he crazy? How could he expect her to pay at- tention when her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and her thoughts were concentrated on the mus- cles corded along his forearms? Such strong arms, she thought absently, were made to make a woman feel pro- tected and cherished.

Say something, her mind urged. But she was unable to fill her lungs with enough air to expel a single syl- lable. What was it about this man’s touch that instantly turned her brains to pudding?

Staring down at their joined hands, she asked at last, “Would you mind showing me one more time?” Try as she might, Carrie was unable to make her voice reg- ister louder than a whisper.

“Not at all.”

Giving in to the urge, Judson bent so that his mouth was next to her ear. Whether he personally liked her or not, there was no denying that Carrie Raben felt damned good in his arms. Her waist was so incredibly small he wondered if it were possible to span its circumference with his two hands. He had little doubt that if the severe winter and isolation of the outback didn’t get lovely Ms. Raben, some rich, lonely rancher would. Just off the top of his head, he could think of at least a dozen eligible fellows who would give their left arm for the chance of snapping up such a sweet, cultured morsel. Knowing how fast word traveled in Harmony, he figured there would be a line of beaus outside her trailer door before his dust had had a chance to settle.

For some reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Judson found the thought strangely unsettling. He told himself it was just because that could leave his children without a teacher right in the middle of the year when it would be next to impossible to find a replace- ment. Still, when Carrie raised her lowered eyelashes to meet his searching look, Judson knew for certain that it was he, not the children of Harmony, who was in trou- ble.