Kara Lennox - The Forgotten Cowboy

He unlocked the French doors that led from the balcony into the living room. Before he could switch the lights on, a familiar black-and-white blur met them, tail thumping, pink tongue lolling.

“Oh, a dog!” Willow stooped down to pet the border collie. “Hi there, fella.”

“It’s a girl.”

“Oh, sorry. What’s her name?”

“Clementine. Clem for short.”

“She certainly is well-behaved.”

“She likes to please. Clem, go outside.” The dog reluctantly but obediently slipped out the door and down the stairs.

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll run off?” Willow asked. “You don’t have a fence.”

“No, she won’t go anywhere. She’s trained. Besides, she knows she’s got a good deal here. Have a seat.” He switched on a couple of lights. He didn’t want Willow to think he had seduction in mind.

And he didn’t. Okay, it was in his mind, but he had no intentions of following through. His raging hormones had driven Willow away from him once. He had to prove that he was attracted to more than just her delectable body. Not that he had any complaints about the package.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked, playing the polite host. Coffee would keep their hands and their mouths busy. They could listen to music. Watch a DVD. Play checkers.

“That sounds good.”

He was a patient man, he thought as he left her for the kitchen. He’d waited five years to make Willow his again. He could wait a little longer.

He’d just turned on the coffee maker when an ear-piercing scream split the evening calm. Cal raced back to the living room, visions of mayhem and blood making his pulse pound. He found Willow standing on the sofa, her eyes huge, her face pale as vanilla ice cream. She pointed down to the rug near a chair.

“I just saw the biggest rat in the entire world. It went under that chair.” She pointed more emphatically.

Cal groaned. “Oh, no. Willow, it’s okay. It’s just Rudy.”

“You name your rats?” She didn’t budge from her position on the couch.

“Rudy is a ferret.” Cal got down on his hands and knees and peered under the recliner. Two red eyes glowed at him. “You probably scared him more than he scared you.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Cal reached under the chair and withdrew the cream-colored ferret. Rudy was trembling, but with a few strokes and some reassuring words from Cal, he soon calmed down.

The same couldn’t be said for Willow.

“I’m sorry he scared you,” Cal said. “He’s supposed to be in his cage, but he’s figured out how to escape. He squeezes under the door, I think.” Turning to his ferret, he scratched it under its chin. “Aren’t you a smart fellow?”

Willow looked at him dubiously from where she still perched on top of the sofa.

“Come down from there. Rudy is completely harmless, I promise.”

She stepped down to the floor using his hand for support, then sank onto the sofa. “Sorry about that. Guess I just proved the stereotype. I screamed like a girlie-girl, didn’t I?”

Cal laughed. “You did.”

She cast a cautious look toward the ferret, which had climbed onto Cal’s shoulder and was staring back just as hard at Willow. “Okay, let’s have a look at Rudy.”

Cal scooped Rudy off his shoulder and held him out to Willow. She lightly stroked his head. And when he seemed to enjoy her attention, she took him into her lap.

“Well, I guess you’re pretty cute. Not really that much like a rat.”

This was the Willow he remembered. Cal had always maintained a menagerie at the little farm just outside town where he’d grown up, and Willow had always loved the animals. She only objected a little when he tried to make a pet out of a giant king snake he’d found in the garage.

Clem yipped once to be let in. And right after that, two more members of his household darted into the living room, probably curious about the screaming. The two cats hopped up on the sofa, eager to make the newcomer’s acquaintance.

“Goodness, are there more?” Willow asked.

“The orange one is October. The black-and-white one is Tyson.” Time enough later to tell her about the other members of his family, not all of which were cute and cuddly.

Willow scratched each of the cats, showing a bit of extra attention to Tyson’s left ear. Half of it was missing. “These guys look pretty battle-scarred.”

“They’re shelter cats. Wild as March hares when I got them.”

“They’re tame enough now.” Both cats were vying for Willow’s attention, trying to climb into her lap with the ferret. “Wait a minute. How come they don’t try to eat the ferret?”

Cal shrugged. “They know it’s not allowed. You have to have rules.” Unfortunately. he wanted to throw away the rules when it came to Willow. “October, Tyson, that’s enough.”

Both cats froze and looked at Cal.

“You heard me. Scat.”

They left Willow’s lap and sauntered away. Willow stared after them in amazement. “I never saw cats mind like that before.”

Again, Cal shrugged. “You can teach them things if you’re patient. You just have to learn how to think like a cat.” He picked up Rudy from Willow’s lap. The ferret squeaked in protest. He’d taken an instant liking to Willow, once he’d recovered from the fright of her screaming. “I’ll put him up. The coffee should be ready in a minute.”

WILLOW WATCHED as he exited the living room, the ferret slung casually over his shoulder. Her still-nameless date had the cutest butt she’d ever seen, even in a pair of oatmeal-colored dress trousers. She wondered what he would look like in snug, faded Levi’s, and the thought made her light-headed.

She hadn’t pegged him for an animal lover. Most of the cowboys she’d known over the years—and there were plenty in Cottonwood—thought of animals as commodities. Oh, they might have a slight thing for their horses. But cats and dogs and ferrets? It was like Wild Kingdom around here.

Cal had loved animals, too, she recalled. He’d taken in as many strays of all stripes as his mother would tolerate. That was why she always thought he would be such an excellent vet, like his father and grandfather before him. That was why she’d been so shocked and disappointed when she’d heard he dropped out of vet school.

It was an odd coincidence that Hank was an animal lover, too. She just must be attracted to that type of man, she reasoned. If there was an animal-lover gene, maybe she subconsciously recognized it and was attracted to the kindness that went along with it. She liked a strong, macho man as well as any girl, but she wouldn’t tolerate strength without a dash of kindness, too.

A man who was gentle and patient with animals would probably be a good father.

She sat up straighter as her skin prickled with awareness. Where had that thought come from? She wasn’t shopping for the future father of her children. Marriage and parenthood weren’t compatible with med school. They would be years down the line for her. It was especially inappropriate for her to be thinking those thoughts in connection with a man whose name she didn’t know.

This situation had gotten totally ridiculous. Maybe there was a clue here in his apartment….

She stood up and looked around for some stray mail, a magazine, maybe. But the only magazine she saw was TV Guide, and there was no address label.

She sighed. He was going to get suspicious if she called him “Hey, you.”

Hank returned a few moments later. “You want cream in your coffee?”

“No, black is fine.” She’d learned to drink it like that in college, pulling all-nighters when she literally didn’t have enough money for cream. Truthfully, she didn’t really want coffee right now.