Designs on the Cowboy Read online

  Erin shrugged. “No reason. But sometimes Dylan can be stubborn.” Shifting to face Glory, she smiled. “Like me. But don’t tell him I said so.”

  Glory wasn’t sure how much or what she should say, but Erin had been especially nice to her. “He has his moments,” she admitted. “And it’s hard to get him to talk.”

  “It has been since— Well, for quite a while. Not that he was chatty before that,” Erin rushed to say. “He has the personality of the firstborn, even though he isn’t, but maybe because he’s the oldest boy. He took on responsibilities that a grown-up would have run from, and he never complained. Not once.”

  Glory studied her. Erin’s face showed how much she cared about both of her brothers. “But he wasn’t the only one,” she pointed out. “If I remember, you were on the verge of taking off for a serious rodeo career, but you stayed until Luke turned eighteen.”

  Color flooded Erin’s face. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “It was to them. Sure, I’ve heard them complain, but it’s plain to see they really care about you. I envy you.”

  “Thanks.” Erin was clearly uncomfortable and immediately changed the subject. “There isn’t much left to do, is there?”

  Shaking her head, Glory hoped Erin couldn’t see how much she dreaded finishing the job. She’d enjoyed the time she’d spent in the Walker home. There was something special about being in a house that was over one hundred years old and had seen generations of a family live their lives in it. In fact, she’d been thinking about a special project she wanted to do as a gift.

  But Erin had asked a question, and she deserved a better answer. “The office is finished. I’ll show it to Dylan later.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Glory laughed, but shook her head. “Sorry, no. I haven’t let him go into it, so it really wouldn’t be fair.”

  Erin’s frown was obviously an exaggeration she couldn’t hold for long, because she laughed, too. “Oh, all right. So what else is left?”

  “There’s one room upstairs that I’m close to finishing, the dining room needs some fresh paint and a fantastic accent rug, and there are a few other odds and ends, but then that’s it.”

  “You’ll be leaving soon.”

  Glory tried to smile. “I guess I will.”

  Erin’s expression was pensive, too. “But you’ll still be in Desperation, right?”

  “Of course!” Glory grinned, still excited to be living in her hometown again. “I know there are people who wish they could get away, but I’m happy to be back again. What about you? You left a long time ago, the same as I did. Do you plan to come back permanently?”

  For a moment, Erin didn’t speak. “I haven’t decided. It’s possible.”

  Glory’s interest was piqued. She liked Erin and hoped they could be friends. There were so few of them left in town who weren’t married and involved with their families. “Very possible?”

  Erin smiled, but gave a half shrug. “That remains to be seen.”

  “Oh!” Glory cried when she suddenly remembered she’d brought something for Erin.

  “What is it?”

  “I have something for you. It’s in my car.” Scrambling from the sofa, she hurried outside and grabbed the box that Dylan had said belonged to his sister.

  When she returned, she put the box on the sofa between her and Erin. “I found this in the closet upstairs in the room I guess used to be yours. I was afraid Dylan might get nosy if I left it here, so I took it home.”

  “Yeah?” Erin opened the cardboard flaps and looked inside. “Oh, good grief,” she cried and instantly laughed.

  Glory noticed misty tears in her eyes when Erin picked up the photo of the horse. “I didn’t go through it. But as soon as I realized those were journals, well, I knew they needed to be guarded from prying eyes.”

  “I’d forgotten I left these here,” Erin said with a sentimental sniff. Looking up with a watery smile, she said, “Thank you for looking out for them.”

  “Do you think there might be more pictures of your horse in there?”

  Erin’s smile widened. “Could be. Let’s look.” She began pulling out the journals and handed them to Glory, but the shift in contents sent the box tipping onto the floor.

  “Oh, dear,” Glory said. “I’m sorry. Looks like there are some papers—”

  “I’ll take a look at them later,” Erin said, scrambling to gather the spilled papers together and stuffing them back in the box.

  The sound of boot heels could be heard in the kitchen, and Glory turned to see whom it was, her heart beating with the anticipation of showing Dylan his new office. She wasn’t disappointed.

  He stood in the doorway and greeted his sister first. “Hey, Erin.” But his attention was on Glory. “I have a few minutes, if it’s a good time to take a look at the office.”

  Erin jumped to her feet. “I’d better get going. I promised to visit some friends in town.” Grabbing the box, she hurried to the door where Dylan stood, poked him with a finger and looked back at Glory. “I’ll talk to you again before I leave,” she said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Neither Dylan nor Glory spoke until the sound of the screen door closing echoed through the house. Although earlier, Glory had had complete faith in what she’d done with Dylan’s office, she was suddenly nervous that he would hate it. Panic gripped her as she thought of all the things he might dislike.

  “Uh, Glory?”

  She hadn’t yet made it to the wallpaper she’d used when she realized he’d spoken. “Maybe another day or two would—”

  “I’d like to see it now.”

  When she tried to swallow and discovered she couldn’t, she knew her fear was to blame. She’d never felt afraid that her work wouldn’t measure up, so why would she now?

  Standing, she drew herself up and squared her shoulders, taking a deep, calming breath. “Then let’s take a look, shall we?”

  “Sounds good.”

  He stepped aside when she moved into the kitchen. “I had this short hallway built,” she said, “to give you more privacy. It allows visitors access to the bathroom, without having to go through the room. I felt it works better, whether you want to make this room your bedroom or your office.”

  “I don’t have a lot of visitors.”

  There was a touch of impatience in his voice, so she reached for the doorknob as she looked up and smiled. It was as much to assure herself as him. “Maybe you will someday.” She twisted the knob, but stopped. “Would you mind if I make sure everything is ready?”

  He lifted one shoulder, but didn’t look pleased. “If you need to.”

  Trying for another smile, she opened the door just wide enough to slip inside, and then she blew out a breath. A quick flip of the light switch bathed the room in a soft glow. Looking around, she was reminded once again of how much she liked the room. It was so Dylan. She only hoped he liked it, too.

  “You can come in now.” She reached to open the door, hoping for the best.

  He stepped inside and stopped, his gaze sweeping across the room quickly, then again more slowly. “I can’t believe it.”

  She held her breath. Was that good or bad?

  He turned to look at her. “You’re—” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Unbelievable.”

  She dared to let herself breathe, and then smiled, slowly at first, until her face began to hurt. “That’s good, right?”

  He grunted, while surveying the room again. “The floor looks great, all shiny and new. And the colors... Green and tan and red.” He looked at her. “How did you know?”

  “These are the colors I see you wear the most,” she answered with a shrug, although she was bursting with pride. “Then you like it?”

  His chuckle was deep and sent shivers through her. “Yeah,” h
e said. “I like it. And I really like that wallpaper.”

  The wallpaper had been the first thing she’d found. She’d chosen an outdoor scene with the colors that seemed to define him, and then built the rest of the room around it. The dark, but not too dark wainscoting, the leather wing chair with matching ottoman and the wall of bookcases all tied in with the large desk against one wall. She couldn’t have been happier.

  “I loved doing it,” she admitted.

  “It shows.”

  She looked at him, and her knees weakened. His green eyes had darkened, and it felt as if he could see everything about her, her thoughts, her dreams, her wishes...and her feelings for him.

  Quickly clearing her throat, she forced herself to look away and tried to be as professional as possible. “I’m glad you like it. Making my first client happy was a big deal.”

  “We need to celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?”

  He nodded. “I was thinking...”

  She knew she shouldn’t allow it, but her heart beat faster in anticipation. “Yes?”

  “Would you like to go riding tomorrow?”

  Images of fast cars and motorcycles flashed through her mind. “Riding?”

  “I know you used to ride a long time ago, and I thought... We have a real nice mare you might like.”

  Horses! “I’d love to go riding with you, Dylan.” She hoped she didn’t sound as though she was gushing, but the thought of riding a horse again excited her beyond words.

  “Glory?”

  Swallowing her excitement, she looked up.

  “You know, I’m going to have to thank my sister for sending you to decorate my house.”

  Unable to answer, she nodded.

  * * *

  FOR THE THIRD time since he’d saddled the horse he’d chosen for Glory, Dylan checked the cinch. The saddle was an old one that had belonged to his sister, long before she’d left for the rodeo circuit. Erin still hadn’t said if she would sell him Glory’s saddle. In fact, when he’d asked her earlier that morning, she’d said she was still considering it. He’d been angry that she wouldn’t give him an answer, but he dropped the subject, certain she’d come around soon enough.

  He suspected she would be leaving soon. Even though she’d said more times than he could count that she’d stop for a real visit, she never stayed more than a day or two. He didn’t expect this time would be any different.

  He heard a vehicle slow down and pull up front, certain it was Glory. When the sound of a car door slamming shut soon followed, he led the mare and his own horse out of the smaller barn and into the adjacent corral. Just as he’d thought, Glory was approaching the barn and waved when he looked her way.

  “Oh, she’s beautiful!” she called to him.

  Her excitement made his heart beat faster, and he waited until she was closer before he spoke. “She’s gentle, but not shy. I think the two of you will get along.”

  Glory climbed through the wood fence and approached the horses he held. “What’s her name?”

  “Cinnamon.”

  “Good choice,” she said, reaching up to run her hand down the mare’s reddish-brown nose. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I think I could have saddled her myself, but it’s probably a good thing you did it for me. It might have taken me a while to get it right. This way we’ll have more time to ride.”

  It was exactly what he’d been thinking when he made the decision to get both horses ready before she arrived, but he didn’t want her to think he doubted her experience. “You’d have done fine.”

  “Well, maybe,” she said, laughing. As she moved to the side of the mare, she lifted the reins over the horse’s head and reached for the saddle horn.

  “Do you need some help getting on?”

  Her laugh was shaky. “You don’t have a lot of faith in me, do you?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t,” she said, looking back at him. “What you can do is let me give it a try. If I can’t do it, I’ll bow to your expertise and ask for your help.”

  He considered it, and finally stepped back. “Okay,” he relented. But if her foot slipped or anything else happened, he’d be ready.

  Her first attempt to boost herself up in the stirrup and swing the other leg over the saddle failed, but he gritted his teeth and didn’t rush forward to help. For that, she graced him with an appreciative smile.

  “You’ll get it this time,” he told her.

  “I will.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and then she swung her right leg over, settling gracefully into the saddle. “I did it!”

  The first thing he noticed, after admiring how great she looked on the horse, was that he’d guessed wrong at the length of the stirrups. It was going to be practically impossible to fix them without getting close to her. But he didn’t have a choice.

  “Those stirrups need adjusting,” he said, without looking at her. “I’ll fix them.”

  He felt her lean down to watch him. As he changed the length, he heard her say, “My legs are a little longer than you thought.”

  He looked up at her, and their gazes caught. He could only imagine what those long legs could do. Suddenly realizing where his thoughts were going, he looked down and forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing. “A little.”

  It didn’t take him long to adjust both stirrups. “Perfect,” she announced when he was done, and urged her horse forward. “So where are we riding?”

  He quickly mounted his own horse. “I was thinking we could ride down to Lake Walker.”

  She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Lake Walker? I don’t think I’m familiar with that.”

  “Erin named it,” he explained, catching up with her. “Most people would call it a farm pond, but it’s a lot bigger than that. When we were old enough to get away with it, we put a trolling motor on a rowboat and took it out on the water. Sometimes we’d spend a whole day out there just fishing.”

  “Did you catch anything?”

  Suddenly hit with a clear memory of those times, he hesitated before answering. “Sometimes. When Pop would remember to stock it.”

  “What about the rowboat? Is it still there?”

  He’d pulled it out of the water the summer after the accident, stowed the motor in the barn and never thought about it again. Until now.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, not wanting to admit what he’d done. “I haven’t been down there for a long time.”

  “Could we look for it? Would you mind? Maybe it’s still there and seaworthy.” A sheepish grin replaced her excitement. “Or pondworthy, at least.”

  “Sure, we can look.” He didn’t want her to get her hopes up. Fifteen years had probably taken a toll on the wooden boat. “But don’t be disappointed if we don’t find it or it’s in bad shape.”

  They rode out of the yard and started across the wide pasture at a leisurely pace. “I’d forgotten how beautiful the wildflowers are,” she said when they’d ridden for several minutes. “I never had a chance to see them when I was living in Texas with my mom.”

  Something in her voice caused him to look over at her, but her expression didn’t give away anything. “What did you do in Texas?”

  “I got an education. I’d never had the opportunity before.”

  “You went to college there?”

  “Yes.” She turned her head to look at him, her smile lighting her face. “And I have the diploma to prove it.”

  “Good for you.”

  There were times when he wished he could say the same, but he’d made the choice to turn down a college scholarship and focus instead on the ranch. Both would have made his parents proud, had they been there, but they weren’t and he’d needed to make amends.

  With his though
ts still on the past, it took him a second to realize he could see Lake Walker up ahead. He’d forgotten how peaceful it had always made him feel. It hadn’t changed much, except that the trees around it had grown to reach higher in the sky.

  “Dylan?”

  “Yeah?” he answered, his attention still on the view ahead.

  “That’s it, right? The pond, I mean.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Seeing it nearly took his breath away, and he was suddenly glad that he hadn’t visited again until now.

  When he turned to see her reaction, she was looking at him. “No wonder Erin named it Lake Walker,” she said. “It’s huge.”

  At the sound of a splash, Dylan gazed out at the water. “Must be a fish in there.”

  “Look,” she said, pointing out to the middle of the pond. “I can see the ripples. It has to be a fish. Or several fish.” She looked back at him. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  He vaguely remembered that his dad had restocked the pond early that last spring, long before the weather turned warm and storms had begun rumbling. Those fish must have kept the pond populated.

  “Luke is going to love this,” he said.

  “He likes to fish?”

  “He loves it. More than I do.”

  “Did your dad fish?”

  Bits and pieces that he hadn’t thought of for years started coming back to him. “No, not much. He spent most of his time working, keeping the ranch going.” He turned back to look behind them. “He and Mom used to watch us from the house. Or at least that’s what they said. I suppose they could see us from one of the upstairs windows.”

  “What wonderful memories you must have.”

  As he turned back, all he could do was nod. He wasn’t sure he wanted those memories to resurface. They were often painful when they did.

  “What about the boat?” she asked. “Where do you think it might be?”

  He surveyed the area, trying to remember where he’d pulled it ashore. Getting his bearings in an area changed by fifteen years of growth, he pointed to his left. “Over there, maybe.”

  “Let’s go look.” Swinging her leg over Cinnamon’s side, she dismounted.