Cowboy Crush(24)

No. He wasn’t ready. “Sorry. This heat is making me punchy.”

Hunt narrowed his eyes in concern. Like maybe he didn’t want to climb into a big 4x4 with a dude who admitted to being affected by the heat.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

But the truth was he wasn’t fine. He was just a good liar. Because his shoulder was screwed and his heart teetered on Heartbreak Ridge. And Cal knew that when he left Coyote Creek, it wouldn’t be the way he’d hoped months ago when he told his mother he was coming home to heal.

* * *

MAGGIE WATCHED CAL drive off with Hunt Turner and sighed.

She had her first bite on the ranch...maybe soon to be followed by a genuine offer. So why didn’t she feel as though an enormous burden was about to be lifted from her? Good Lord, a potential buyer had dropped into her lap. Wasn’t selling the Triple J quickly what she’d wanted all along?

Her tummy trembled at the thought of handing over the keys to the place.

Maybe it was natural to feel the way she did. After all, she’d been working hard over the past weeks. Pouring sweat into a project of this scale connected a person to it. No doubt all the house flippers on those TV shows also got attached to their projects. Maybe at some point they wanted to take a broom and shoo buyers away, too.

She climbed the porch steps and eyed the paint she’d set out. She’d already put a coat of sky blue on the porch roof to fool the bugs. One more coat and she could start on the railing. She’d roll the protectant on the new porch decking the day after. It would be a gorgeous spot to hang a porch swing and a couple of Boston ferns. A perfect spot to find peace and comfort.

The Triple J was starting to look like the place Bud had loved so. When she was a child she would look at the photographs of the Texas countryside framed in Bud’s office. Her mother didn’t like her going in there, but she loved to lie on the stuffy leather couch and look at the photos of bluebonnets and old fences with sunsets in the background. Her favorite had been the one of a longhorn cow staring directly into the lens. She’d wiggled on the couch, wondering if she could do a chin-up on his horn or if the friendly looking bovine would poke her eye out if she tried. Bud had caught her in there one day staring at his photos and had begun to tell her stories about cows getting stuck in flooded creek beds, coyotes baying at moons and wide-open space to contemplate one’s place in the big world. He’d say, I’ll take you there one day, kid. You can ride a pony and I’ll show you the hanging tree.

But he’d never taken her. Business took a downturn with a product recall and she’d grown into a teenager who stopped sneaking into Bud’s home office.

Is that why he’d left the Triple J to her? Because he’d promised to take the housekeeper’s bastard child and hadn’t gotten around to it? Or because he wanted to poke a stick at his own kids who rarely visited him for anything other than a check?

No matter the reason, the Triple J was hers...for now.

Fresh start.

Those words uttered by Hunt Turner stirred something in her. What if the Triple J was where she belonged...what if it was her own fresh start?

Years ago, hundreds of people had tossed practicality out the window to chase a dream out West. They’d broken away from their past to claim a dangerous future in a wild land full of rattlesnakes and sexy cowboys. Maybe she should be as bold. Maybe...

Cal’s truck crested the slight rise that blocked the view of the highway, jarring Maggie from her thoughts.

Be sensible, Mags.

But even as she told herself those words, she recalled something Bud once told her. I found myself, this hard-nosed capitalist, this practical man, staring out at a horizon that sparked a sense of belonging. That land stirred the imagination, that land spoke to the heart. I met myself there, Maggie. I’m ten times the man when I’m riding a horse across the Triple J than when I’m nitpicking budgets here in Philadelphia. A place like that can change you. Make you believe God is real and you have a purpose.

Maggie looked out over the land Bud loved so and knew what the old man had meant. Ever since she’d come to the Triple J, she’d felt more herself.

Or maybe that was because of Cal.

Nothing is etched in stone.

Cal climbed out of his truck and set his cowboy hat back on his head. He squinted toward the paddock where Sissy gnawed at dry grass. She didn’t know whether he was trying to mind his own business or if he was worried about the horse.

Hunt headed toward Maggie. Holding out his hand, he said, “Thanks for showing me the Triple J. I’m going to sit down with my financial advisor and work out a few details. You should have an offer from me on the place by the beginning of next week. If anyone else comes to look at it or makes an offer, call me.”

His handshake was firm and dry. Intentional. “I haven’t listed with an agent yet, so I don’t anticipate another offer yet.”

“Good,” Hunt said, giving her a smile. He was insanely attractive in a rough around the edges way. If she weren’t so much in lo—

She clamped down once again on that thought. Because she wasn’t in love with Cal. She couldn’t be. Because they’d set rules and made plans to the contrary. She had to stop allowing that thought to slip into her subconscious. To think that way, to claim that emotion, was dangerous. Because love would lead to heartbreak. Despite her fanciful what-ifs, she knew what they’d set in place made sense. It protected both of them. Cal would return to his world and she’d...well, it was safe to bet she’d return to hers. There was no room for her to entertain anything different. Better to stick to the original plan—all the fun, none of the guilt. Like that yogurt commercial.

“It was a pleasure meeting you. If things don’t work out with the Triple J, I wish you luck finding another place for your fresh start,” Maggie said.

Hunt dropped her hand. “I think I’ve found it here. Sara will love it.”

Cal made his way over and in his eyes she saw her doubt reflected. Or maybe it wasn’t doubt as much as it was jealousy. She shouldn’t feel so thrilled at Cal’s response to Hunt, but she’d rarely experienced a man scratching a line in the dirt over her. Something about Cal scowling at Hunt made her feel secure. It was a rarity, nothing more. But still, some part of her liked it too much.

Hunt extended his hand to Cal, gave it a brief, hard shake and then turned back toward his rental SUV. “I’ll be in touch.”

And then her potential buyer climbed into his vehicle and drove away.

“You’re not going to let that asshole buy this place, are you?” Cal asked.

“Asshole?” Maggie repeated turning to Cal. “Come on, Cal, that man was perfectly nice. He has a daughter. He wants a fresh start.”

Cal shook his head. “Naw, he’s weird. I can tell he has secrets.”

“Cal,” she chided with a laugh.

“Seriously. Who picks up and moves to some place they’ve never been before? Unless they’re a drug dealer...or an illegal arms dealer. He’s trouble. I can smell it. There’s something off about him. He could be a serial killer.”

“You sound like a nut,” Maggie said. His words made her earlier thoughts about staying in Coyote Creek seem ridiculous, too. Who, indeed, picks up and moves to a place she’d never been before? No one. Okay, some people but not ones who had common sense. There had to be a good reason to do something like that. Maggie had no good reason. She hadn’t even broken in her new cowboy boots yet much less done any research on how to run a ranch. Better to ditch the itch, the idea, the inclination.

Maybe the heat was making her punchy, too.

“I am a nut,” Cal said, grabbing hold of her and pulling her into his arms. “Over you.”

Maggie let the decision drama slip away in favor of lightness. She didn’t want to spend the time she had left with Cal overanalyzing every aspect of her future. No, she wanted to grab the pleasure she could. She’d think about bad decisions and potential heartache after she walked away from the Triple J and Cal.

That thought bumped against her bubble of happiness, but she flicked it away by kissing Cal. “I like nuts.”

“I could make a dirty joke,” he said, grinning down at her.

“As expected,” she said, looping her arms around his waist and leaning back so she could stare up at him in the early afternoon sun. “I’d love to practice bull riding on you, but we have too much daylight left.”

“You’re a slave driver, woman. Can’t take a single day for some fun.”

“And if we were going to take the afternoon off, what kind of fun do you have in mind?” she said, suggestively bumping her hips against his.

“Skinny-dipping?”

“In the pond?” She wrinkled her nose.

“It is kind of stagnant,” he conceded.

“Where’s Wyatt?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t seen the teen in a while.

“He’s helping Charlie repair the fences out in the far pasture,” Cal said, raising his brows in expectation.

“So no one is around?” she asked.

He shook his head. “What do you have up your sleeve, madam?”

“I’ve been thinking of power washing the house. I could grab the bikini I bought at the Penny Mart. Doesn’t cover much but we could get wet.” Maggie lowered her voice when she made the suggestion. No way was she shucking her clothes and jumping into a lukewarm pond filled with bacteria and algae, but she could be talked into some slippery fun. “We’ll call it killing two birds with one stone. Work and play.”