The Cowboy Who Broke The Mold. Cathleen Galitz

lamb lost. When he informed her that it was time for him to get going, Carrie merely looked at him blankly in response. He felt compelled to add in expla- nation as he turned to go, “Look, I’ve got a date, but if you want to, you can follow me into Lander. It’s the nearest town from here.”

      Judson deliberately withheld the fact that his “date” was nothing more than picking up his children. He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t want Carrie knowing just how unattached he was—that he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been on a real date. But he decided if the way his libido was presently holding his brain hostage was any indication, it was definitely time to remedy that Preferably with a woman who had zero expectations of any commitment. There were only two things in this world that Judson Horn was truly committed to. And right now he was half an hour late picking them up from the baby-sitter’s.

      

      Carrie felt as if she had been sucker-punched. She blamed her reaction less on the fact that this handsome cowboy was involved in a relationship than on the re- alization that he was heading right toward that beautiful red-and-black pickup. The instant she had seen it parked in front of the school, she had assumed that the brand- new vehicle was the transportation provided in her con- tract. That it, in fact, belonged to Judson could only mean that the old bomber in which she had been driven here was to be hers.

      Swallowing her disappointment, Carrie stammered, “Th-that’s all right. I want to get settled in. You go on, and don’t worry about me…But before you go…could you possibly…”

      It pained her to have to ask Judson for help, but al- though she was initially skeptical about the horned menace, her introduction to myriad new fauna had Carrie worried that the area was indeed teeming with exotic perils.

      “There’s, uh, that little matter of those jackalopes…”

      At the reminder, Judson’s face broke into a wide grin. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” he said, snapping his fin- gers. “Wait here just a minute. I’ll be right back.”

      Just what was it about that crooked smile that made her heart thump so frantically? Conscious of the quiver in her stomach, Carrie watched him saunter over to the pickup. Unable to tear her eyes away from his snug jeans, she told herself that it was ridiculous for her to be feeling this way. Aside from the fact that the last thing she needed right now in her life was any romantic attachment, this particular man had made it quite clear that he not only didn’t like her much, he was dating someone else. Judging by those drop-dead good looks, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had an entire harem at his disposal.

      Plainly, Judson Horn was off limits, and that was all there was to that. Thank God and good riddance to any future heartache.

      Returning momentarily with rope in hand, he began fastidiously fashioning a snare. Fascinated by the sight of rough hemp manipulated by his strong, masculine hands, Carrie felt her mouth grow dry.

      Realizing that this would be something she herself would be expected to master, she asked with a shaky sigh, “Would you mind teaching me how to do that?”

      “Not at all.”

      That lazy, irresistible grin instantly disarmed her, spreading warmth throughout her body and leaving a hot blush upon her cheeks. Surely that trademark smile had won him many a skirmish! As Judson reached around her and began guiding the rope through her fingers, Carrie swallowed a sharp intake of air. Trapped in his arms and surrounded by his woodsy scent, she could feel the shivers tripping up and down her spine. Though her mind urged her to run away, her body seemed pow- erless to obey.

      “Think you can manage that?” he asked, pulling the rope into a small noose.

      Was he crazy? How could he expect her to pay at- tention when her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and her thoughts were concentrated on the mus- cles corded along his forearms? Such strong arms, she thought absently, were made to make a woman feel pro- tected and cherished.

      Say something, her mind urged. But she was unable to fill her lungs with enough air to expel a single syl- lable. What was it about this man’s touch that instantly turned her brains to pudding?

      Staring down at their joined hands, she asked at last, “Would you mind showing me one more time?” Try as she might, Carrie was unable to make her voice reg- ister louder than a whisper.

      “Not at all.”

      Giving in to the urge, Judson bent so that his mouth was next to her ear. Whether he personally liked her or not, there was no denying that Carrie Raben felt damned good in his arms. Her waist was so incredibly small he wondered if it were possible to span its circumference with his two hands. He had little doubt that if the severe winter and isolation of the outback didn’t get lovely Ms. Raben, some rich, lonely rancher would. Just off the top of his head, he could think of at least a dozen eligible fellows who would give their left arm for the chance of snapping up such a sweet, cultured morsel. Knowing how fast word traveled in Harmony, he figured there would be a line of beaus outside her trailer door before his dust had had a chance to settle.

      For some reason that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Judson found the thought strangely unsettling. He told himself it was just because that could leave his children without a teacher right in the middle of the year when it would be next to impossible to find a replace- ment. Still, when Carrie raised her lowered eyelashes to meet his searching look, Judson knew for certain that it was he, not the children of Harmony, who was in trou- ble.

      Suddenly he couldn’t remember what had prompted him to even consider pulling this sweet, young thing’s leg. The naiveté shimmering in those wide green, eyes resurrected in him a streak of chivalry that he thought had died long ago at the end of a whip.

      Carrie’s hair felt soft against his cheek, her subtle fragrance bewitched him, and a perfectly graphic sen- sual image flitted across his mind as he trailed the rope across her pale, slim wrists. Repeating his instructions, he couldn’t help but wonder just exactly what kind of a trap it was that he was setting.

      

      Carrie suspected that her heartbeat galloping at break- neck speed was a dead giveaway to the fact that she was a woman without a man in her life. Glad that he was unable to witness the crimson flush of her face, she tried her damnedest to block out the effect that Judson’s closeness was having upon her. When at last she was able to master the process of setting a snare herself, she stepped and surveyed her handiwork.

      “Simple task for an ex-Girl Scout!” she quipped, self-consciously making light of her racing pulse.

      Leaning against the side of the old schoolhouse, Judson decreed with a definite sparkle in his eye, “Who’da thought a greenhorn could set such a fine jackalope snare?”

      Confused by a sudden rush of pleasure at the com- pliment, Carrie was startled by how warmly his words filled the hollow inside her. Perhaps she had been wrong about this man after all. Perhaps her first impression of him had been too hastily formed. Perhaps it was only the rigors of hard living that made him seem so distant and solitary. Perhaps she needed to have her head ex- amined.

      Feeling the need to put some distance between them, Carrie said with newfound assurance, “I’ll set a couple out a ways.”

      Picking up a length of rope, she stepped off into the high grass surrounding the playground. She had gone less than ten paces when a pair of brawny arms grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground. A red haze of panic descended over her as her mind filled with dreadful possibilities.

      “Let me go!” Carrie yelled, resisting him for all she was worth. Her high heels connected with a shinbone, and an oath echoed against mountain walls.

      Judson stumbled backward, dropping her upon the hard dirt. Carrie scrambled to her feet, but Judson was already loping toward his vehicle. Helplessly she watched as he pulled something out from under the seat. When he turned to face her, a pistol dangled from his hand.

      It seemed incongruous to her that this man would want to hurt her, but having dealt with violence on a daily basis in her previous school,