- -
- 100%
- +
You need to forget the cowboy, Marcella. He probably has a girlfriend. And even if he doesn’t, he’d hardly be interested in a mother with two kids. Wake up! A hunky man like Denver can have his pick of women. You can bet he’s already put you and your sons in the very back of his mind.
Doing her best to shove the miserable voice out of her head, she finished the last few minutes of her shift, exchanging patient information with the fresh group of nurses. By the time she’d changed clothes and headed out to the parking lot to her car, seven o’clock had turned into seven forty-five.
She was climbing into her car when she heard the cell phone inside her purse ringing. The caller was most likely her mother, she thought wearily, wondering why she hadn’t yet been by to pick up the boys. After twelve years of Marcella working long, erratic shifts as a nurse, her mother still didn’t understand her schedule would never be predictable.
After starting the car, she pulled out the phone and was surprised to see it had been Lilly Calhoun ringing, rather than her mother. Since her friend never called just to chat, Marcella decided to take a minute to return the call. If something had happened on the ranch, she wanted to know about it.
“Hi, Marcella,” Lilly answered cheerfully. “Sorry to bother you at this hour. Are you home from work yet?”
“No. I’m still in the parking lot. Is anything wrong?”
“No. Everything is great. I’ll just keep you a minute. I wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow night. I’d like for you to come to a little dinner party I’m having.”
Marcella frowned. “Dinner party? Lilly, I was just out to the ranch last week at your Halloween party.”
“So? That was mainly for the kids. This is just for us adults.”
So that meant she’d have to tell Harry and Peter she was going to the Silver Horn without them. That would definitely cause a fuss. But on the other hand, Marcella was entitled to an evening out on her own once in a while.
“Is this some sort of special event? Someone’s birthday?” Marcella asked.
“Nothing special. There will only be a few of us. The men are getting together to talk business and Ava and I don’t want to be bored to death. You can at least entertain us with hospital news.”
“I am off tomorrow,” Marcella said thoughtfully. “And it would be nice to have some adult conversation. I’m not sure what Mom will say about watching the boys. If she’s planning on a bingo night, forget it.”
“Don’t worry. If Saundra can’t watch the boys, then bring them with you. Tessa will be keeping all the kids upstairs in the playroom. She won’t mind watching Harry and Peter, too.”
Rafe and Lilly had a young daughter and son, while Ava and Bowie’s baby boy was only a few months old. Tessa would have her hands full without adding Harry and Peter to the mix.
“I’m not sure—”
“I won’t let you refuse,” Lilly interrupted. “This is important.”
Marcella countered, “Lilly, you just said this wasn’t anything special. Are you—”
“I only meant it was important to me that you come,” she quickly explained.
Marcella absently massaged her forehead while watching a group of nurses exit the back of the building. She let out a weary sigh. “Okay, I’m too tired to argue. I’ll be there. What time?”
“Great! Make it about six thirty so we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy a cocktail before dinner. And in case you need more persuasion, Greta is cooking prime rib,” she added. “And coconut cream cake.”
Marcella chuckled. “Pure blackmail. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Right now I have to get home. Uh, who’s doing all that crying in the background?”
“Austin. He’s crying for me to take him over to the barn to see his daddy.”
“Then you’d better pull on your boots and take him and big sister, Colleen, to the barn.”
Lilly let out a good-natured groan. “Sure. Give the little man everything he wants. If Austin grows up to be a spoiled brat, I’m going to tell everyone Nurse Grayson ruined him.”
Laughing, Marcella told her friend goodbye, then ended the call.
* * *
The next evening, Denver quit work at an early hour, and after checking in with Doc Simmons about a pair of sick cows, he headed home to shower and change for the dinner party at the big ranch house.
Managing the cow/calf operation made it necessary from time to time for him to attend business meetings with the Calhouns. Especially with Orin, the father of the five Calhoun brothers, and Clancy, the eldest son and general manager of the Silver Horn. There were also occasions when issues cropped up with local ranchers and Denver needed to make an appearance at a town gathering. But parties were a different matter, and for the most part, he avoided them as much as possible. Yet for some mysterious reason, tonight Rafe had been adamant that he attend Lilly’s small dinner party.
Rafe had said he and Orin wanted to use the evening to discuss some new feed ideas. Denver didn’t believe a word of it. In the twelve years he’d been working on the Silver Horn, the feed program had remained consistently the same. The whole idea had him wondering if Lilly was giving someone a surprise party and Rafe was wanting to keep the celebration a secret. Whatever reason, Denver would have preferred to stay home and catch up on a bit of rest.
Frowning at his image in the bathroom mirror, he smeared a handful of shaving cream over his jaw and chin. Who was he trying to kid? He’d gotten home early for the past several nights. At least, seven o’clock was early for him. But he hadn’t rested or enjoyed the solitude. He’d spent most of the time cleaning the kitchen and thinking about Marcella Grayson and her two sons. And damn it all, he was still thinking about them.
You’re a fool, Denver. The world is full of pretty nurses and single mothers. It’s also full of gamin-faced boys with a penchant for asking questions. There is nothing special about the little family.
Maybe not, Denver argued with the nasty voice in his head, but there’d been something very special about the way they’d affected him. Being near Marcella, holding her hand, even for those brief moments, had reminded him what it was like to hold a woman in his arms and make love to her. And the boys—well, they’d made him remember all that he’d lost back in Wyoming.
* * *
When Marcella arrived, Tessa, the Calhouns’ young housekeeper, nanny and maid all rolled into one, met her at the door.
“Good evening, Marcella,” she greeted warmly. “It’s so nice to see you again so soon. Let me take your coat and bag. Everyone is out back on the patio having drinks.”
Marcella shrugged out of her coat and handed it and her clutch bag to the slender young woman with light brown hair and a gentle face. “Outside? Maybe I should keep my coat. It’s rather cold to be having drinks outside.”
“Orin has built a fire in the fire pit, so I imagine it feels nice and cozy.” She glanced at Marcella. “Wow! You look so pretty tonight. That emerald green dress looks gorgeous with your red hair.”
Feeling more than self-conscious, Marcella glanced down at the simple sheath dress she was wearing. Since her wardrobe was limited to mostly work or casual clothes, she didn’t own much in the way of party wear.
“Lilly didn’t say whether this was going to be a fancy dinner. But knowing her, I decided I should at least wear a dress.”
Tessa laughed as she went to hang Marcella’s coat in a nearby closet. “You know Lilly and Ava, they like to find any reason to dress up. Come along,” she invited, “and I’ll walk with you back to the patio.”
Even though Marcella wasn’t a frequent visitor to the ranch, she’d been there often enough to know her way around the massive three-story house. Yet each time she walked through the opulent rooms, it amazed her that two of her best friends had married into such a wealthy family.
As soon as the two women reached the family room and the sliding glass doors that opened onto the patio, Tessa quickly excused herself.
“I’ll leave you to join the others,” she said. “The kiddos are upstairs with their great-grandfather Bart. He’s watching them until I can take over. Uh—I thought you might be bringing Harry and Peter with you tonight. Didn’t they want to come, too?”
If there’d been a chance of them seeing Denver again, the boys would’ve jumped at the chance to make the trip out here. Otherwise, they’d been content enough to spend the night with their grandmother. “My mother is making them a special treat for dinner tonight.”
“Well, maybe next time,” she said.
The housekeeper hurried away and Marcella let herself through the glass door and onto a large rock patio partially covered by a low hanging roof. As she carefully fastened the door behind her, she heard Lilly’s voice calling to her.
“Marcella! You’re finally here!”
Turning, she found the willowy blonde standing right behind her, and Marcella quickly gave her friend a tight hug.
“Finally here,” Marcella repeated with a light laugh. “You say that like I’m the party honoree or something.”
“Well, you are important to us around here,” she said with an impish smile, then after another quick hug, she curled her arm around Marcella’s waist and urged her across the patio. “Come on and have a seat. It’ll be a while before Greta serves dinner. Want something to drink? Orin has made a pitcher of margaritas if you’d like one.”
“No. I’ll be driving home later. I’ll just have a ginger ale.”
“I’ll get it,” Lilly said. “You go on over and say hello. I’m pretty sure you know everyone here tonight.”
Marcella started toward the group of people gathered around the huge brick fire pit. Ava and Bowie were standing with their backs to the warm flames, while Clancy and his wife, Olivia, were snuggled together on a cushioned wicker love seat. Nearby Rafe, his dad, Orin, and Colley Holbrook, the manager of the horse division, were talking with a man seated with his back to Marcella.
The moment Ava spotted her approach, the tall brunette hurried over to greet her with a swift kiss on the cheek.
“Come over by the fire,” she invited with a happy smile. “Gosh, you’re looking lovely tonight. Where did you get those heels? They’re very sexy.”
Marcella chuckled. “They’re hand-me-downs from Mom. She bought them, then decided they were too risqué for her.”
“Lucky you.”
“Here’s your ginger ale,” Lilly announced as she joined the two women. She handed Marcella the glass of ginger ale. “Let’s go find a seat where it’s warm.”
As the women approached, the men all politely rose to their feet to greet Marcella.
“I think you know everyone here tonight,” Lilly said, then added teasingly, “Although it’s been so long since Clancy and Olivia have shown their faces around here, you might not recognize them. Once they built their house up on the mountain, we can hardly get them down here for dinner.”
Marcella shook hands with the ranch manager and his pretty wife, who worked in the land management division for the BLM.
“Yes, it has been a while,” she said as she shook hands with each of them. “Nice to see you again. How’s your little boy, Shane?”
“More like his grandpa Orin every day,” Clancy teased. “Growing into a real rascal.”
While Orin chuckled loudly, Olivia added, “He’s nearly three years old now and we can’t turn our backs on him, or he’ll be in the barn trying to climb on the back of a horse.”
“He and Austin are two peas in a pod,” Lilly spoke up jokingly. “When those two cousins get a little older, we’re going to have hell to pay.”
Ava put her hand on Marcella’s shoulder and turned her slightly to the left. “You have met Denver, haven’t you? He’s a lot like Clancy—you have to twist his arm to get him here for dinner.”
Denver! The man who’d been occupying her thoughts for the past week was standing right in front of her. The surprise of seeing him very nearly caused her jaw to drop, but she caught herself before that could happen and forced a cheery smile on her face.
“Uh—yes. We have met,” she said.
He extended his hand to her. “Hello, Marcella. It’s nice to see you again.”
Lilly had said this was going to be a simple gathering. What was he doing here?
Hoping she didn’t appear as caught off guard as she felt, Marcella placed her hand in Denver’s. And just like the last time, something in the bottom of her stomach flipped over. Then over again.
“Hello, Denver. How are you?”
A faint smile touched his lips, and as Marcella’s gaze zeroed in on his face, everything around her suddenly faded, except him and the feel of his big rough hand wrapped around hers.
“Fine. Thanks for asking.”
The feel of his gaze slowly meandering over her face was causing heat to pool in her cheeks. And just as she was telling herself it was time to extricate her hand from his and put an end to the strange buzzing in her head, she heard Lilly speak behind her.
“There’s Greta at the door. Let’s go in, everyone. Dinner is served.”
Denver dropped her hand and they both began to gravitate toward the back of the house with the rest of the group.
“Sounds like it’s time to enjoy Greta’s cooking,” he said. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
She’d been as hungry as a horse until she’d turned and saw him. Now her nerves were so scattered she could scarcely think about eating.
Stop it, Marcella! You’re not a teenager with a sudden crush on the cool rebel in senior class. You’re a thirty-three-year-old mother. Far too old to be getting the vapors over a sexy man.
She said, “I haven’t eaten anything since early this morning. So I’m ready to eat.”
“Did Peter and Harry come with you this evening?”
“No. They’re with their grandmother tonight. I didn’t want to overload Tessa with kids. They’ll be disappointed they missed seeing you.”
“I’m disappointed they’re not here,” he said.
His simple statement sounded so sincere, yet she told herself not to take it to heart. There were plenty of guys who pretended they liked kids. Until they were asked if they wanted to be a father, and then they stumbled backward, as if they’d just faced a rattlesnake.
With everyone in the house, the group quickly migrated to a dining room that was beautifully furnished with a carved oak table and chairs, along with a matching sideboard and massive china cabinet. Down the middle of the vast table, vases of orange and gold marigolds mixed with burgundy-colored mums alternated with flickering fat brown candles. Across the room, a row of arched windows revealed a starry night sky competing with the glow of lights illuminating a portion of the ranch yard.
The beauty of the Silver Horn never failed to impress Marcella, but tonight she wasn’t absorbing her surroundings as much as usual. Instead, every cell in her brain was focused on the tall, muscular rancher standing a few steps away.
“Ava and I didn’t bother assigning seats. So everyone just grab a chair,” Lilly announced. “Except for the end seat. That’s for Granddad Bart, of course.”
“You’re wasting your breath, Lilly girl,” Bart boomed out as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Everyone already knows this is my seat. When I’m dead and gone, my son gets it. After that, you grandsons can fight over it.”
Dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks with his thick gray hair brushed neatly back from his rugged features, at eighty-eight, Bart looked as though he was still fit enough to wrestle a bear and ornery enough to try it.
Orin pulled out a chair to his father’s right. “Dad, we’re not going to discuss your passing tonight or any night for that matter. These beautiful women don’t want to hear such morbid talk.”
“Son, I’m eighty-eight years old. What the hell do you think is going to happen? That I’m going to live forever?”
“You’re mean enough to live forever, Granddad,” Bowie spoke up teasingly. “So I say you better not mess around and get nice on us. We might lose you.”
“Bowie! That’s awful,” Ava scolded her young husband.
With a wry shake of his head, Orin looked down the table. “Denver, would you help Marcella into her seat? I’m sure you won’t mind sitting next to our pretty guest tonight.”
“My pleasure,” Denver said.
He stepped over to the table and pulled out the chair nearest to Marcella. As she sank into the padded seat, she felt as though everyone in the room was watching the two of them. And suddenly she wondered if this whole evening had been a setup to throw her and Denver together.
But that was crazy thinking. She hadn’t voiced any interest to Lilly or Ava about the cowboy. Had Denver mentioned something about her to some of the Calhouns? She couldn’t imagine that. He didn’t seem the type to discuss private issues. Even with his friends.
Glancing up at him, she smiled faintly and murmured her thanks. “Sorry. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a dining companion tonight.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage to survive,” he said in a voice only she could hear.
Near the head of the table, Orin said, “Sorry, Colley. You just happened to be on the wrong side of the table tonight.”
“It’s okay, sir,” the horse trainer said. “I don’t think I’ll be getting lonely anytime soon.”
Marcella glanced over at the young man who’d taken a chair next to Bowie. From what Lilly told her a couple months ago, Colley’s wife had divorced him and left town with a man she’d worked with at a financial firm in Carson City. No doubt he was still seeing red whenever he looked at a female.
While the remainder of the group took their seats at the table, Denver had made himself comfortable in the chair next to Marcella, and she found it impossible to keep her attention away from him.
“Lilly told me this was going to be a small group tonight,” she said to him. “I was surprised to see you here—I mean, I’ve never seen you here for dinner before.”
He shrugged, and Marcella’s gaze was drawn to his broad shoulders and the faint movement of muscle beneath the finely woven fabric of his dark gray shirt. A leather bolo tie fashioned with a silver accent set with coral stones was pushed tight against his throat, while matching cuff links fastened the cuffs at his wrist. He looked dark and dangerous and oh so handsome.
“That’s because I don’t visit the big house that often. Rafe twisted my arm to get me here tonight.”
Marcella’s mind began to spin. No way would Lilly and Ava go to this much trouble to throw her and Denver together at the same dinner table. Or would they? For the Calhouns, this gathering was little more than a regular family dinner.
“Oh. Well, Lilly twisted mine. So looks like we’re in the same boat tonight.”
“I’m here to discuss a new feed program with Orin and Rafe. So far that hasn’t happened,” he said. “Why were you invited?”
“To catch Lilly and Ava up on hospital news. So far that hasn’t happened, either,” she added with an impish smile. “But no matter. Getting to eat Greta’s cooking is worth the drive out here.”
“As long as your battery doesn’t die again,” he added jokingly.
She felt her cheeks turning pink. If only he knew how much she’d been thinking of him since that night he’d welcomed her into his home. He’d probably want to have Colley trade chairs with him, she thought.
“I’m happy to say I haven’t had any more car trouble,” she told him.
Before he could make any sort of reply, Bowie caught Denver’s attention, and then Greta appeared with a loaded trolley and began to serve the first course. Marcella glanced down the table to Lilly, and the cunning little smile on her friend’s face left no doubts as to what this dinner party was all about.
The only thing that could save her from this embarrassing situation now, Marcella thought, was if Denver never discovered how the two of them had been pushed at each other.
Chapter Four
As usual, the food was mouthwatering, but Denver could have been eating hay and not noticed the difference. Having Marcella, looking like a dream and smelling like a meadow of wildflowers, sitting next to him throughout the long dinner had jangled his senses.
When she’d first appeared on the patio earlier this evening, he’d been shocked. Although on second thought, he shouldn’t have been all that surprised. She was good friends with Lilly and Ava. For all he knew, she might be a regular dinner guest.
However, during the past week, he’d been telling himself he’d never see the beautiful nurse again. Then she’d suddenly been standing in front of him. It was like his daydreams had suddenly come to life.
A few minutes ago he’d watched Marcella leave the room and so far she hadn’t returned. Damn it, why was he noticing her comings and goings, anyway? She was just a pretty friend of the Calhouns and certainly nothing to him.
“Denver, would you like more cake?”
He glanced up to see that Lilly had paused in front of the chair where he was sitting in the family room.
Smiling, he shook his head. “Thanks, Lilly. It was delicious, but I couldn’t hold another bite.”
She gestured toward the opposite end of the room, where a long bar stretched across one corner. At the moment Bowie was playing bartender to Clancy and Rafe. The brothers were joking and laughing and obviously enjoying the evening. Denver was glad to see the men so relaxed. To an outsider, it probably appeared that the Calhouns had an easy life. But Denver knew firsthand how tirelessly Orin and his sons worked to keep the ranch thriving.
“Bowie has been spiking his brothers’ coffee with apricot brandy,” Lilly said with an impish grin. “You might want to join them.”
His senses were already whirling enough, Denver thought. He didn’t need to make them worse. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stretch my legs a bit and walk out by the fire.”
“Great idea,” she said, then added, “If the fire needs more wood, there’s plenty stacked on the end of the patio.”
Denver thanked her, then left the chair and slipped through the glass doors and onto the dark patio.
The night air had turned very chilly, but the fire was still burning, warming the area around the fire pit to a comfortable temperature. Grabbing a chair from the shadows, he started to drag it closer to the fire when he heard a female voice off to his left.
“You must have needed some fresh air.”
He glanced around to see Marcella walking out of the shadows. Where had she come from, he wondered—another part of the house?
“I thought I’d come out and enjoy the fire.” He gestured to the chair. “Have a seat. I’ll drag up another.”
She smiled and thanked him, and while she made herself comfortable, Denver went after another chair. By the time he’d rejoined her in the orange glow of the firelight, he was wondering if he was the luckiest man alive or the most ill-fated. Sitting out here in the dark with a beautiful redhead could be detrimental to his health, mainly his ability to think.
As he took a seat a short distance away from her, she said, “I’ve been upstairs visiting the kids. So I thought I’d come out here and enjoy the fire a bit before I rejoined everybody in the family room.”
“Do you have a fireplace in your home?” he asked.
She grunted with amusement. “Even if I did, I couldn’t afford to buy wood to burn.” She looked over at him. “I noticed you had a fireplace in your living room. Do you use it very often?”
“No. Although there’s plenty of dead wood up in the mountains here on the Horn that I could gather and burn. By the time I get home in the evenings, it’s easier just to let the heating system do its job.” Maybe if he had someone to sit with him and share the warmth of the flames, he’d feel differently, Denver thought. Maybe someone with soft curves, long red hair and lush pink lips that tilted at the corners would make building a fire all worthwhile.
“My grandparents live in Northern California in the countryside out from Redding,” she told him. “When my brother and I were just youngsters, Grandfather would build a campfire for us. We thought it was wonderful.”