She looked at her boss in surprise. "That's the very last thing I intend to do. I'm not interested in that kind of a relationship with him or anyone else, and besides, it's obvious he's still in mourning for his wife. It was just a piece of pie, Mary."
Mary nodded. "And really none of my business," she said. "I just know he's already had enough hurt to last an entire lifetime."
"And the last thing I want to do is inflict any more in his life," Lizzy replied. Besides, Daniel wasn't in a place to want anything from her romantically, and she didn't intend to be in town long enough for anything like that to happen.
All she was looking for was a little time on a horse and some pleasant conversation. No man, no matter how sexy, no matter how nice, was going to detour her from the path she'd chosen to follow.
Chapter 3
Daniel had no idea what had possessed him to offer Lizzy riding lessons. Monday morning as he led several of his most gentle saddle horses into the small corral next to the barn, he decided it was simply because she had managed to do what no other person in the entire town had been able to do: she'd penetrated through the veil of darkness he'd cloaked around himself enough to intrigue him.
And she did intrigue him more than a little bit with her bucket list and her eyes that promised something warm and wonderful.
Hell, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he'd admit that something about Lizzy Wiles made him think about sex. Not just regular sex, but the kind of hot, unbridled, mind-blowing sex he'd never experienced in his life. And he hadn't thought about any kind of sex since long before he'd buried his wife.
And he didn't want to think about it now.
He'd go get Lizzy, let her ride one of his most docile horses, and then he'd take her back to her cabin and be done with it … with her. Then he'd go back to being what he'd been before she'd eaten that piece of pie, a miserable man who was responsible for not one, but two beautiful, vibrant women's deaths.
He frowned. For just today he didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to be that man. Today he simply wanted to be the person helping Lizzy to accomplish something on her bucket list.
He shook his head as he thought about the promise she told him she'd made to her dying mother. It made a strange kind of sense, he supposed, to try to accomplish all the things you wanted to in the area of fun and adventure before you settled down or got too old to enjoy them.
Daniel had never wanted anything more in his old age than this ranch, his family surrounding him and a quiet peace of simple goals achieved warming him deep in his heart.
Now he wouldn't have even that. He'd have no wife, no children to fill the empty spaces around him. He'd live the rest of his life alone and with the regrets of a man who had made too many mistakes.
A half an hour later as he drove toward the Cowboy Café, he thought again about Lizzy's bucket list. Maybe part of the reason he'd responded to her, why he'd decided to spend a little time with her, was because he knew she wasn't any kind of a threat to him on an emotional level.
She was in town for only a little while and had made it very clear that she had things she wanted to accomplish. Once her list was complete, she'd probably drift back to her hometown of Chicago.
It wasn't the same as spending time with any of the single women in Grady Gulch, who might think any interest he showed them was evidence that he was available for a new commitment with one of them.
Never again, he thought as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He'd never marry again. He'd never try love again. Emotionally he wanted to stay dead. It was not only what he desired, it was what he deserved.
Still, he couldn't control the slight burst of anticipation that shot through him as he drove around the back of the café and saw Lizzy standing in front of one of the four small cabins.
Clad in a pair of jeans that hugged her long slender legs and wearing a bright yellow T-shirt that made her light brown hair look darker and richer, the sight of her wrestled up a spark of life that had been absent inside him for a very long time.
The minute she saw him, a wide smile curved her mouth, and for a brief moment he wondered what those full lips might feel like against his own.
Don't even think about it, he commanded himself as he pulled his truck to a halt. He didn't even want to go there. She opened the passenger door and jumped into the seat with that bright smile that warmed some of the Arctic air that had been inside him for so long.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "I thought maybe you wouldn't show up." She reached for the seat belt.
"Why would you think that?" He waited until she was buckled in and then put the truck into gear.
"I don't know, I just thought you might have changed your mind between Friday night and this morning."
"If I'd have changed my mind, I would have called you and let you know. I wouldn't have just not shown up this morning and left you hanging." He pulled away from the cabins, acutely conscious of the scent of her, the fragrance clean yet with a slightly spicy kick.
"I'm so glad you did show up. I've been looking forward to this all weekend. I can't wait to see your horses." Her exuberant energy shimmered in the cab of the truck. "Have you always lived here in Grady Gulch?"
"All my life," he replied. "I live on the ranch where I grew up."
"And I'll bet you learned to ride a horse by the time you started first grade."
He flashed her a quick smile, the rarely used expression feeling slightly alien on his lips. "Actually, I learned to ride when I was three, but I got my first horse on my second birthday. My dad bought her for me. I named her Cat. Apparently my verbal skills were limited at that time."
She smiled. "And your parents? Are they still here in town?"
"No, they're both gone. My mom passed first. She had a heart attack and died five years ago. My dad had a stroke six months later. I think he just missed her too much to keep living."
He'd much rather talk about her than about his own life. "What about you? You mentioned that your mother had passed away. What about your father?"
"My parents divorced when I was six," she replied.
"So, your father wasn't in your life?"
"Sometimes he was, sometimes he wasn't. He was in and out throughout my childhood. I learned fairly early on not to depend on him, not to expect him to show up when he said he would. In the last seven years, after I turned twenty-one, he's pretty much been out of my life."
"And you're okay with that?" He flashed her a quick glance, noting how the morning sun pulled faint blond shiny highlights from her hair.
"To be honest, I don't spend a lot of time or energy thinking about things and people I can't control, and my father was definitely one of those people. Oh, what a beautiful place," she exclaimed as Daniel turned onto the long driveway that led to his house.
It had been a long time since Daniel had seen his home through a stranger's eyes, but now he found himself filled with an unexpected surge of pride as he gazed at the large two-story house that rose up out of the lush lawn and surrounding green pastures.
The white house with the dark green shutters was old, but Daniel had been vigilant over the years at maintenance and repairs. The paint was fresh and clean, and the house radiated a sturdiness that spoke of endurance.
The outbuildings were also white with green trim. He realized the whole place breathed with a pastoral peacefulness he used to feel deep in his soul but hadn't felt in a long time.
"It must have been wonderful growing up in a place like this," Lizzy said as he parked the truck in front of the house.
"I had a great childhood here," he said. "Come on and I'll show you around."
As he got out of the truck, he was surprised by the fact that he felt somewhat at ease. She was easy to talk to, open and friendly and, best of all, very temporary, he reminded himself.
She joined him in front of the truck and drew in a big drink of the air. "Smells good enough out here to bottle and wear on your skin."
Although Daniel agreed that the air smelled wonderful, it didn't compete with the slightly exotic scent that emanated from her. "I imagine it's definitely different than the smell of Chicago."
"Since leaving Chicago, I've smelled a lot of cities and small towns, and every place has a distinctive smell." She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with good humor. "And some are definitely better than others. Grady Gulch will go on my list of good scents."