Linda Broday - Give Me A Texan

“You know, I admire directness. Indeed I do. And you deserve an answer.” He pushed back his hat with a forefinger. “It’s simple. I need to know at the end of the day that something I did made a difference, maybe eased someone’s burden in a small way or helped a pretty lady forget about the people who betrayed her for a moment.”

“That’s a lot of need for one man.” A tremble went through Amanda. She inhaled the scent of worn leather and unmistakable desire. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

“Yes, ma’am. But there’s more. I also hanker for the company of a handsome woman, I guess. One who has enough guts and spirit to fill the empty spaces of an old bachelor’s heart.”

“You think you might find that here I suppose? Could it be you suffer from delusion?”

“I’ve heard that a man who risks everything to stand up for something can never be wrong. The whole of a life is greater of the sum of its parts.”

“My heavens! You’re a philosopher in boots and denim.”

Payton grinned. “I’ve kept quite a few things secret.”

There was that word again. What secrets, pray tell?

Heat rose to Amanda’s face. Her cheeks must match the crimson of her dress. She wasn’t herself. Perhaps she had a fever and imagined McCord and his need.

A suitable reply fought for room in her mouth. “Thought you were skittish that being here will sully your name.”

“Concern was for you, not me, I reckon. A certain pretty hat-stomper shot my reputation all to hell.” The lopsided smile deepened the creases around his mouth and the cleft in his chin.

Amanda’s heart lurched. “And the sheep? You hate them.”

“A few things are worth abiding I’m told. Even rhubarb, which I share no fondness for, but that’s another story.”

Thoughts flew to the pie she’d baked that morning, wondering what he had against the delicacy. No need to worry about something he’d never know. He’d come to work, not eat.

“Indeed. We don’t have to love something to tolerate it.”

Payton’s hand grazed her cheek in a slow sweep that left warmth in his wake. He must’ve felt her turmoil. “You had a streak of dirt on your face. You’re far too comely to let a speck of anything mar the beauty. I hope you didn’t mind-”

“No, I’m indebted.”

Thank goodness he didn’t know the shambles he made inside. She could get used to a saddle-warmer if he promised to hold her close and banish ghosts of the past-and maybe assure her she wasn’t a worthless, stray mutt.

But love?

Who knew what that was? She doubted it existed.

He picked up the clippers where they’d fallen in the dirt, his smoldering gaze wrestling with hers. “Are we done getting things straight? If so, I suggest you let me get to work. Show me how to work these damn things.”

Amanda welcomed the task of explaining equipment that must be as foreign to Payton as roping and bronc busting were to her. She dare not examine his presence too closely for fear of what she might discover…or have it vanish like a desert mirage that existed solely in her mind.

Had she gone stark raving mad from living so long with nothing but animals and the howling of wind for company?

McCord certainly looked real enough. And the shoulders that brushed hers felt like no figment of anyone’s imagination. She could never design a dream like this from mere yearnings.

But had he truly said he hankered for the company of a handsome woman?

“All right, I think I have the hang of these god-blessed contraptions.” Payton’s wry nod suggested an executioner at a hanging who gave the order to spring a trap door. “I’m ready to try ’em out. Send the first bag of wool this way.”

She opened the narrow chute and nudged a ewe inside, quickly fastening the gate behind before the animal could get other ideas. Then she hurried to help Payton subdue the scared creature he’d already flipped onto its back. Just as Amanda tightened her arms around the thick neck to keep it secure, the ewe flailed the air with powerful feet, jerking and twisting.

Losing her balance, Amanda stumbled against Payton, sending them both to the dirt. When she got her bearings, she found herself pinned beneath him, staring up into a pair of devilish green eyes.

“I…You’re on top me.” The hard chest pressed into her bosom, the virile scent of the man taunting her good sense made it difficult to form lucid thoughts.

“Do tell.”

The sinful curve of his lips began a slow descent, arousing tingles of longing from places long dead.

Perhaps she hadn’t moved too far from the little girl who begged in the streets those years ago. She still held a tin cup and took whatever she could get, however she could. Except she didn’t pretend to be blind. No, her vision was quite clear.

The faint whisper of his breath feathered tendrils of hair at her temple.

Amanda’s heart skipped. She had no inclination or will to stop this delicious fantasy. To feel his lips, taste the musky desire, was a power that nothing on this earth could stop.

Payton’s hand, calloused from years of hard work, trembled as he caressed her cheek. A feathery brush of her eyelids, then the curve of his mouth gently touched hers with the barest of pressure and she knew she’d surely die a happy woman. She wouldn’t ask for more than what she got. It was enough. It’d have to be. She’d learned the value of necessities and how to make do.

His mustache tickled her lip exactly as she’d suspected it would. Her mouth parted slightly and she savored the hunger that Payton had evidently denied himself for a long time.

The kiss that began with a mere brushing of lips grew into one of heated urgency. Amanda felt as though Payton had awakened her from a deep slumber and brought life seeping back into the crevices.

This was the first time she could recall feeling totally safe and protected…and loved. For a moment she didn’t have to fight anyone and that in itself was pretty amazing. She relaxed into his arms and rode the wave of warmth.

Just as she gave herself fully to the idea of blessed happiness, Payton pulled away and scrambled off her.

“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Unshed tears formed, creating a lump in her throat. He hadn’t truly wanted to kiss her. It had been an accident. He’d only dropped a nickel in her cup because he felt sorry for a blind girl. “Please…don’t.”

“Damn, did I hurt you?”

Amanda bit her lip to stop the quivering. “I’m fine.”

Payton jerked off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and jammed it back on. “From the very first second you came through the door of the hotel I knew I wanted to kiss you. I just didn’t intend to do it today.” He gave her that lopsided grin that stole her breath. “I meant to let you gradually get used to the idea beforehand. I’ve never been…I’m used to wrestling longhorn, not females who require a gentle hand.”

Confusion muddled her brain. She thought he just confessed to kissing her on purpose.

Accepting his hand, she got to her feet. “Damn, McCord, I’m no piece of fragile china. I have no regrets.”

A rush of air left Payton’s mouth. “I’m glad. I sure thought I’d messed up. Thought you were going to hand me my hat and run me off. Or reach for your trusty rifle. You don’t have it hidden somewhere do you?”

She wouldn’t let him know how deeply he’d shaken her. It paid to be cautious in any case. Maybe it was a ruse, some new tactic. She’d not give anyone leverage to use against her if she could prevent it.

“Run you off before you shear my sheep? Are you serious?”

“And afterward?” Payton arched an eyebrow. “When you have little need of me you’ll tell me to climb on my horse and not look back?”

The gaze that saw things in shades of green twinkled, giving birth to a new set of problems-like how to keep the clusters of tingles from reaching her heart, because once they did they’d release the hope she’d imprisoned so long.

“Perhaps. I haven’t decided yet.”

“An unscrupulous man would drag this out.”

“What would an honest man do?”

“Work like hell and count his blessings.” The grin flashed, revealing even teeth.

Good heavens, he could sure charm a lady. How could she ever have thought him befuddled? Seemed outlandish now. The teasing, assured cowboy who stood braced to the wind had kissed her and acted like he enjoyed it. A flush rose. She turned away, casting a gaze to the far distance.

“Looks like Fraser rounded up the escapee.” She pointed toward a ravine. The dog was herding the ewe toward them. “Ready to have another go at this business?”

“A range rider never cries uncle. Always figure I have no choice but get back on the horse that threw me.”

Under Amanda’s tutelage, Payton learned the ins and outs of sheep shearing in record time. She watched the compassion he showed her animals. And when he took a break for a cool dipper of water, she caught him watching her.

Memory of the kiss created waves of heat that threatened to scorch her. She could spend the rest of her life wrapped in his arms with no stretch of the imagination.

Except, she didn’t dare allow herself to bank on a flash in the pan. Her cowboy was a tender of rawhide, not wool. He would help her now, but when it was over he’d be gone like a breeze full of lavender, leaving nothing behind but the scent of his passing.

As dusk approached she could see Payton’s weariness. Muscles that had been taut and firm in the beginning began to give out with the last ram they’d shear this day. He struggled to contain the weight and the shears at the same time.

Despite Amanda’s help, the ram gave them a tussle. She recognized the grinding sound coming from Payton’s mouth. That would be the gnashing of teeth. She’d heard that noise a lot through the day. That he did something he truly abhorred elevated his character to near sainthood.