Karen Smith - The Texan's Happily-Ever-After

“That’s not an easy question.”

“Tell me,” he said, surprising himself. Usually when conversations with women got into sticky waters, he swam in the opposite direction. But he wanted to know more about Raina, wanted to uncover everything she kept hidden deep in her soul.

“Is it a long way to the creek?” she asked with a wry smile.

“Long enough that if you haven’t ridden for a while you’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

“I guess I’d better soak in a hot tub tonight.”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He suddenly had visions of her sinking into a tub full of bubbles. But before she slid into those bubbles—

He had to quit imagining her in something less than a blouse and jeans.

When she canvassed his face, he wondered what she saw. He could hide quite a bit with his Stetson. Every cowboy knew how. But they were riding in the sun, and the shadows from his brim didn’t hide everything. Could she see his interest in her was physically motivated? Since Belinda’s rejection of a future he held dear, all he’d looked for from a woman was physical satisfaction.

He and Raina were so blasted different. The ways were too numerous to count. So why was he here? And why was she here?

Curiosity, pure and simple.

She was still studying him when he said, “You changed the subject.”

“You helped it along.”

“I did. And if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

She was silent as they rode through pockets of wild sage, scrub brush and tall grass. As her horse rocked her, she turned the kerchief around her neck, the frayed edges brushing her skin. “This was my dad’s. He wore it whenever he went riding. He liked to tease that it would come in handy if a dust storm came up. His stories about his father serving in World War II, as well as his own experiences in Vietnam, were written down in a diary he kept. My mother gave it to me on my twelfth birthday.”

“Why your twelfth?”

“I was having trouble fitting in at school. I didn’t know how to handle being Cheyenne, and at times growing up, it made me feel like an outsider. Ryder faced the same problem, but a guy can be a loner and that can be attractive by itself. He knew who he was when he hit his teens. He also knew he wanted to be a cop. I just felt…different from everyone else.”

“When did you stop feeling different?”

“I never did. But I learned to like being different. Remembering the myths and fables my father told me helped me see how life fit together, how the past becomes the present, how being Cheyenne is something to be proud of. But it wasn’t always so, and I feel guilty about that.”

“You were a kid.”

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