Captivating A Cowboy

From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall, gorgeous hunk of man.

Julie flashed him her best smile and tried to focus on what he was saying. “You could help me with what?”

She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who’d be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.

He took off his hat and ran a hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair. “Handling the sander, ma’am.”

Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?

She hoped not….

Dear Reader,

We’ve been busy here at Silhouette Romance cooking up the next batch of tender, emotion-filled romances to add extra sizzle to your day.

First on the menu is Laurey Bright’s modern-day Sleeping Beauty story, With His Kiss (#1660). Next, Melissa McClone whips up a sensuous, Survivor-like tale when total opposites must survive two weeks on an island, in The Wedding Adventure (#1661). Then bite into the next juicy SOULMATES series addition, The Knight’s Kiss (#1663) by Nicole Burnham, about a cursed knight and the modern-day princess who has the power to unlock his hardened heart.

We hope you have room for more, because we have three other treats in store for you. First, popular Silhouette Romance author Susan Meier turns on the heat in The Nanny Solution (#1662), the third in her DAYCARE DADS miniseries about single fathers who learn the ABCs of love. Then, in Jill Limber’s Captivating a Cowboy (#1664), are a city girl and a dyed-in-the-wool cowboy a recipe for disaster…or romance? Finally, Lissa Manley dishes out the laughs with The Bachelor Chronicles (#1665), in which a sassy journalist is assigned to get the city’s most eligible—and stubborn—bachelor to go on a blind date!

I guarantee these heartwarming stories will keep you satisfied until next month when we serve up our list of great summer reads.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Captivating a Cowboy

Jill Limber

To Kathy—best buddy and cosmic sister. This one’s for you!

Acknowledgments:

Many thanks to James Weippert—for letting me pick his brain and for his service to his country as a Navy SEAL. Thanks to Dr. Dick O’Connor and Dr. Ernie Tucker for all things medical, along with friendship. Special thanks to Bryn Willson for her wonderful poetry.

Books by Jill Limber

Silhouette Romance

The 15 lb. Matchmaker #1593

Captivating a Cowboy #1664

JILL LIMBER

lives in San Diego with her husband. Now that her children are grown, their two dogs keep her company while she sits at her computer writing stories. A native Californian, she enjoys the beach, loves to swim in the ocean, and for relaxation she daydreams and reads romances. You can learn more about Jill by visiting her Web site at http://www.JillLimber.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

Tony saw her the instant she walked into the hardware store. He paused in the aisle and studied the fine piece of eye candy that had sauntered in off the street, putting every fiber of his male being on alert. Her long ponytail twitched over bared shoulders. Snug shorts dipped below a slim waist, showing a band of firm brown flesh where her cropped top didn’t quite meet up with denim. Long slender legs completed the sexy little female package he judged to be about twenty-five years old.

Conversations dropped off one by one until every man in the store, including old Mr. Dunn, turned his head. Cliff, working behind the counter, looked like a deer caught in headlights as she approached him.

Tony was too far away to hear what she asked, but he could see the tips of Cliff’s ears turn a bright red. He pointed to the back of the store. She turned, and Tony felt like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the place. She had a face like an angel, with big blue-green eyes and a generous upper lip over a full lower lip. A mouth made for kissing and a body built straight out of every man’s fantasy.

Suddenly the fact that every guy in the store was probably thinking the same thing annoyed the hell out of him. He had a sudden irrational and possessively childish urge to tell them he had seen her first.

He shook his head at his own foolishness. He had better things to do with his time than stand in Nilsen’s Hardware and have fantasies that could get him arrested in half the states in the country. If he was going to get his house finished on his land before the cold weather set in so he could move out of his tiny unheated trailer, he needed to get going.

Yeah, right, he thought, rooted to the spot as he watched the utterly female way she walked.

She made her way to the power tools and bent over the boxes that contained sanders. Tony bit back a groan and headed for the counter to pay for his supplies.

A man could only take so much.

Cliff rang up the sack of nails and caulking. He made change, his attention not on what he was doing. Tony had to grab the coins before they dropped on the counter.

“Who is she?” Tony asked, resisting the urge to turn around and take another long look.

Cliff shrugged and leaned to the side so he could see around Tony. “Don’t know. This is the first she’s been in here.”

She had to be new in town, Tony thought. In Ferndale strangers never went unnoticed. Especially women who looked as good as this one.

He lingered until Cliff straightened up and smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt, alerting Tony to the fact she was on her way to the counter. He moved a few feet away to look at a display of saw blades.

She walked by him carrying a box and trailing the fragrance of summer flowers, sweet and fresh.

“Does this sander come with instructions?” She laid a credit card beside the box.

Tony stifled a groan. He was all for equal opportunity, but unskilled women and power tools were generally a bad combination.

Cliff slid her plastic credit card across the counter, swiped it through his machine and handed it back before Tony could read the name on it.

Cliff mumbled and reached to open the box. He waved a piece of paper. “Sorry, miss, no operating instructions. Just the usual safety warnings.” He handed her the credit slip to sign.

Unable to help himself, Tony stepped closer, hoping his carnal thoughts didn’t show on his face. “Excuse me, miss. Maybe I could help.”

Julie turned to glance at the great-looking man she had noticed lurking by a display of big metal wheels with wicked teeth. Boy, they sure didn’t grow them like this in Los Angeles. From the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his leather boots, he was one tall gorgeous hunk of man.

She flashed him her best smile. “Could help me with what?” she asked, wondering exactly what he meant.

She liked the way he squirmed just a little as she studied him. Shy, perhaps. Handsome as he was, he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who would be bashful around women. She also liked the muscles that showed through the close fit of his white T-shirt. Brawn like his was the result of hard outdoor work and not a gym.

He took off his hat and ran a big square hand through his cropped dark chocolate-brown hair, then gestured to the box the middle-aged clerk struggled to repackage. “The sander, ma’am.”

The cowboy was blushing. She swallowed a smile. Was it possible he was just being neighborly and not flirting?

She hoped not.

She was going to be in Ferndale all summer, and had no friends here. No one she knew from Los Angeles was likely to come for a visit. She’d been dreading being stuck in this small town for three long months.

Quaint Victorian Ferndale hadn’t changed any since she’d left almost ten years ago to go to college. Now that she’d used her credit card, within hours everyone in town would know she was back in Northern California. Give her a big city any day. There was no such thing as privacy in a small town.

She winked at him. “Thanks, cowboy, but I think I can manage.”

At least she could learn. With her budget and time limit, she had to become adept quickly to finish all the things that needed doing to her grandmother’s house.

Her house now.

She wanted get the place fixed up and put it on the market. She had to get back to L.A. before the school year started.

He tapped his forefinger on the box. “Do you have any experience with power tools?”

The cowboy had a polite earnestness about him she found appealing. The men she knew were so into their own image and being cool they would never show the kind of interest she saw on his handsome face.

She shrugged, amused that he would assume she couldn’t manage by herself because she was a woman. She was smart and could figure out how to do what needed to be done.

Julie glanced around at the men who had gathered to listen openly to their conversation, then gave them a smile.

“How hard can it be? You all know how to use them, don’t you?” she asked sweetly, then picked up the box and sauntered out onto Main Street.

Every pair of eyes watched her leave. As she disappeared from sight, Tony swore he heard a collective male sigh from inside the store.

Tony turned to Cliff. “Who is she?”

Cliff scratched his bald head, still staring at the now empty door. “Dunno.”

Tony reached over and pulled the credit slip out of Cliff’s fingers.

“Julie Kerns.” He read aloud.

“That was little Julie Kerns?” Mr. Dunn peered around Tony trying to see the slip of paper.

Tony turned to stare at the old man. “You know her?”

Mr. Dunn nodded. “She used to live here. Moved in with her grandma when she was a little girl after her folks died.”

“Where does her grandmother live?”

“Doesn’t. Her grandma was Bessie Morgan. Died about two months ago.”

Tony thought for a minute. The name was vaguely familiar. “The blue-and-white Queen Anne style house with the vines over by the church?”

Mr. Dunn nodded. “Yup. Heard Julie got the house. Must be moving in.”

Tony stored that bit of information away and left the store whistling.

He’d find a reason to go and pay the little lady a call and remind her how neighborly Ferndale could be.

Tony stood on the sidewalk in the hot noon sun and shifted the ladder on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. He contemplated the cottage belonging to the very enticing Julie Kerns.

Two things came to mind.

First, the house was a marvel of workmanship, with all the trim and special touches that went into a Queen Anne. Not as fussy as most Victorians, he’d always liked the design.

Second, the place needed a heck of a lot of work.

For starters, the top two wooden steps to the porch were rotten. He glanced up and noted the rain gutter had rusted through in several places. That explained the rot.

He leaned the new ladder she’d ordered against the side of his truck and hefted the five gallon cans of plastering compound and primer.

Skirting the rotten wood, he climbed the stairs and set the cans beside the front door. The doorbell, a round crank set in the wall, rang loud enough to be heard in the next block.

Within moments, he saw her through the beveled glass window set in the middle of the door. She wore baggy old jeans and a big shirt. He missed yesterday’s outfit.

Julie opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Hello, cowboy.”

He grinned at her and tipped his hat. “Afternoon, Miss Kerns.” He’d forgotten how pretty she was.

“Please, it’s Julie.” She didn’t seem surprised that he knew her name.

“I’m Tony. Tony Graham.”

She gave him that great smile of hers, then glanced down and spotted the cans. “Do you work at the hardware store?”

“No, ma’am. Just doing Cliff a favor. His wife took the truck to Redding to do some shopping.”

Tony hoisted the cans and she stood aside so he could enter. “Where do you want these?”

“Upstairs. But you can leave them right there.”

“I’ll take them up for you. Lead the way.”

He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.

She turned into one of the front bedrooms. He set the cans inside the door. She’d been busy. All the furniture had been pushed into the middle of the room and covered with a tarp.

Tony gave a low whistle when he looked up and saw the water damage to the ceiling and walls. Big chunks of plaster were missing. “Roof?”

She nodded. “Yes. Bessie hated to spend money and waited until the leak got really bad before she had it repaired.”

He nodded. Lots of people put off work, then ended up paying more. He didn’t understand their logic.

Dubious that a novice had a chance of doing a decent plaster job, Tony wandered over to a damaged wall and turned to eye the book she held. “You ever do any plaster repair?”

“Not yet.” She slapped the book she was holding closed and set it on top of the tarp, then put her hands on her hips.

She sure did look determined.

She studied him for so long he wanted to squirm. Then she squared her shoulder as if she had made a decision and asked, “Have you had lunch?”

It took him a moment to react. He didn’t expect the question. “No. I was just about to take a break.” His lunch was in his truck.

“Good. Have lunch with me.”

Tony was both surprised and pleased at her invitation. He had been trying to decide how to ask her out. Now they could get acquainted over a sandwich at the kitchen table.

“Sure. That would be great.”

“I have to warn you, I have an ulterior motive.”

Tony raised an eyebrow as a quick fantasy shot through his mind.

She tapped her book with a slender forefinger. “I want to pick your brain about plastering techniques.”

Oh, well, he thought, feeling a little deflated, at least she wanted to have lunch with him.

He followed her downstairs and instead of turning toward the back of the house where he assumed the kitchen would be, she went out the front door.

“We’re going out?”

Julie looked back at him over her shoulder with a smile. “My treat. I don’t cook.”

He wanted to ask her why not. Cooking was basic for existing as far as he was concerned. Did she eat all her meals out? It seemed a little too soon to ask. Some women got so prickly when a guy asked questions like that.

“Okay.” He wasn’t comfortable with her picking up the tab even if it was her idea, but they could discuss that when the time came.

Tony closed the front door behind him and walked with her a half block until they hit Main Street. They chatted about how the town had not changed at all in the years since she had left.

“Village Bakery okay with you?”

“Sure.” He’d eat the lunch in his truck for supper.

They found a table and gave the waitress their order.

Julie smiled at him and he went warm all over. What a beauty, with her streaked brown hair and blue-green eyes. He smiled back and noticed she had flecks of gold in her eyes that matched the streaks in her hair.

“Now, about plastering.”

He didn’t care why she had invited him to lunch. If she smiled at him like that she could have anything she wanted. “What do you need to know?”

She shrugged. “Everything.”

Tony laughed loudly enough that everyone in the bakery turned to look at the two of them.

“You sure you want to do this yourself? I’d be glad to help.” He could take some time off from building his house.

She hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the table, then back up at him. “No, thanks. I’m going to do it myself, but I’m not above wangling a few tips. How did you learn to do plastering?”

“My dad and I built the house my folks live in now when I was a teenager. He was in construction before he started ranching.”

“Do your parents live around here?”

“No. Wyoming.”

“How did you come to live in Ferndale?”

He felt a quick stab of the familiar pain associated with the accident, Jimmy’s death, and how he had come to be where he was. “I inherited a piece of property just outside of town. I’m building my own place there now.”

The waitress set their sandwiches in front of them. He thanked her and between bites, steered the conversation back to plastering. He told Julie everything he could think of that would help her do the job.

She asked a few questions, then mentioned her grandmother again, commenting on all the stuff she still needed to clean out.

He eyed her curiously. “You called your grandmother by her first name?”

Her expressive blue-green eyes became shuttered for a moment, then she gave him a rueful smile. “Bessie never liked being called Grandma.”

Tony tucked that bit of information away to ponder later.

“You have a lot of work to do on the place before you move in.” He hadn’t missed the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint.

She laughed. “I’m moved in, but it’s temporary. As soon as I can get the placed fixed up, it goes on the market and I go home.”

“Where’s home?” He didn’t like the thought of her leaving Ferndale. He had plans to get to know her better.

A lot better.

“Los Angeles.”

He couldn’t think of a worse place to live. “Why?”

She raised a finely arched eyebrow. “Why what?”

“Why do you live there?” It must be for her job.

She laughed. “Because I like it. Why do you live in Ferndale?”

He grinned at her. “Because I like it.” Or at least he would when he could move into his own home.

“What do you do in L.A.?” He wondered what kind of job would keep her there.

“I teach high school. English.”

The waitress brought the bill and they both reached for it. “I invited you.” Julie jerked the slip of paper out of his hand.

“Half?” He didn’t let women buy him meals. It might be old-fashioned, but it didn’t set right.

“No. Then I’ll feel guilty for picking your brain the whole time we ate.”

Tony shrugged, then thought of a plan. “Okay. But only if you agree to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Julie watched him for a minute. He sensed her hesitation, then she gave him another of her great smiles. “Deal.”

He watched her walk up to the counter to pay.

He’d never had a teacher who looked like Ms. Kerns. The boys in her classes probably had a hard time keeping their minds on the subject matter when she was standing in front of the class.

He stood up and pulled two bills out of his pocket for the tip. She saw him leave the money on the table and rolled her eyes.

They walked back to her house in companionable silence.

He glanced over at her. She could teach anywhere. Why would she choose to live in a big smelly city like Los Angeles? Maybe a guy kept her there. He didn’t like the thought.

“So you teach English. Fond of the classics?” He liked her hair. So many different shades of brown.

She shrugged. “I’m fond of all kinds of books.”

He had been, too, once. He had devoured books, losing himself for hours in them. Since the accident he had to struggle to read, and the frustration ruined the pleasure.

When they got to her place Tony unloaded the rest of her order and carried a ladder and bag of small hand tools upstairs. The banister was loose and needed bracing.

He found Julie leaning against a piece of covered furniture, holding her how-to book and frowning.

“You need me to stay?” He glanced over at the book she studied. Doing plaster work took some skill. Even with everything he’d told her he was skeptical that she could manage alone.

“Nope.” She glanced up from the page she studied and smiled. “Remember? I’m going to do it myself.”

He wondered why she was so stubborn about not having help. He’d be willing to take time off from working on his own house. He didn’t say anything. From the set of her shoulders and the jut of her chin it was obvious she was intent on tackling the job herself.

He’d give her the rest of the day to see how hard the job was, then come back and see if she’d changed her mind about his help.

He reached into the bag and pulled out the goggles and dust mask he had purchased and added to her order.

“Come over here.” Tony motioned to her.

When she hesitated, he said, “Just more friendly advice.”

She shrugged and moved to his side. Her hair smelled like lemons, and he fought the urge to lean closer and inhale.

He positioned her under the worst of the damage, liking the feel of her warm skin under her cotton shirt.

Reluctantly he let go of her and pointed to the ceiling. “Always wear these.” He held up the mask and goggles. “They’ll get in your way, but you’ll get used to them. Be sure to chip off all the stained plaster. Otherwise, the stain will bleed through your new paint.”

“Okay.” She glanced up to the ceiling and back to his face.

Tony handed over the safety equipment and wanted to reach for her, the urge to kiss her strong.

He pulled back. Whoa, way too soon for a move like that, he thought. Instead he stepped away and opened the ladder, positioning it under a gaping hole in the ceiling. “Good luck.”

As he turned to leave, she said, “’Bye, Tony. And thanks.”

“Anytime. Thanks for lunch.” He gave her a smile before he started down the stairs.

Julie watched him go, then glanced down at the goggles and mask dangling from her fingers. His concern about her safety touched her.

She ran a finger over the ridges in the blue mask. The handsome man had some kind of problem with speech comprehension and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She’d noticed how he’d watched her face intently as she spoke, and then there would be a bit of lag time before he replied. She didn’t think he was deaf, but perhaps she was wrong and he was reading lips.

Curiosity got the better of her and she went out to the upstairs landing and leaned over the rail just as he opened the front door.

“Tony?” She kept her voice very quiet.

He turned immediately. “Yes?”

Well, his hearing was fine. She groped for something to say. “Ah, if you see Cliff, tell him thanks for the delivery.”

He tipped his hat. “Sure thing. Be careful not to lean on that banister. It’s loose.” He closed the door behind him.

She knew the railing was loose. She just hadn’t gotten to that chapter in her fix-it book yet.

She glanced around the upstairs landing. How hard could it be? She had the tools and the how-to book. If she sold the place as a fixer-upper she would get a lot less for it, and she needed the money.