Her Perfect Cowboy. Trish Milburn

It was well past bluebonnet season, but this area of Texas still looked like a different world entirely from the urban environment of Fort Worth or the starkness of his West Texas hometown. Instead of vast expanses of flat, flat, flat, the Hill Country was home to more landscape variety—rugged limestone and granite hills, groupings of prickly pear cactus, caves and spring-fed rivers. One minute you might be passing a winery, the next a local watering hole that looked as if it’d been in business since Texas became a state.

      When he reached Main Street in Blue Falls, he started looking for his destination. He spotted a restaurant called the Primrose Café, an antique store, the Frothy Stein bar, a bakery and an old-time hardware store. His eyes caught the name of Yesterwear Boutique, the clothing store where he was supposed to meet India Pike.

      All the parking spaces along Main seemed to be full, a good sign that the town wasn’t dying and thus unable to support a rodeo. He found a spot to park his truck on a side street then walked back to the shop. The moment he stepped inside the cool interior, his nose twitched at the smell of some flowery scent. And then he took in his surroundings, which looked like a sea of feminine froufrou. Dresses, hats, shoes, jewelry. Was that a petticoat on the headless mannequin in the corner?

      It was official. He’d never felt more out of place in his life.

      He shifted from one foot to the other and tipped back his hat just in time to see a woman come through the doorway that led to another room full of clothes. A beautiful woman with wavy black hair that rested lightly on her shoulders. When she saw him, her eyes widened enough that he thought they were a grayish-blue. She recovered quickly and stepped fully into the entry area that held the cash register, a display counter full of jewelry and little beaded purses, and a few items of clothing.

      “Mr. Parrish?”

      “Yes, ma’am. Sorry I’m a bit late. There was an accident about an hour north of here.”

      “No problem.” After what seemed like a moment of hesitation, she took a couple of steps toward him and extended her hand. “India Pike. I appreciate you driving all the way to Blue Falls.”

      The moment his hand wrapped around hers to shake, he realized how tiny her hand was, completely disappearing in his. The handshake was brief, but it was long enough for him to label her as delicate.

      “It was a nice day to get out of the city and go for a drive.” He laughed. “You’d think as much time as I spend on the road that the driving would get old, but there’s something about the open road that’s relaxing.”

      Well, wasn’t he chatty all of a sudden?

      He mentally shook himself and gestured over his shoulder. “I saw the café down the street looked busy. Must mean they have good food. Have you eaten?”

      “Yes, actually. But if you’d like to go have lunch, we can meet sometime this afternoon.”

      Was it his imagination or did she seem less than excited about this meeting? Was she preoccupied? In a bad mood? Or maybe she just didn’t have a clue what she was doing. He was used to meeting with fellow cowboys or middle-aged businessmen, not a dark-haired beauty wearing a dark blue dress and blue-and-white shoes.

      “Nah, I can wait.” Time to stop stealing glances at her legs and get down to business. “Best thing to do first is look at your facilities to see if they’re suitable for a good-size rodeo, and what adjustments may need to be made.”

      She nodded. “Let me just lock up.”

      He stepped out onto the sidewalk, able to breathe deeper once he was out of the shop and farther from the woman who ran it. While he waited for her to flip over her sign saying she’d be back in thirty minutes and lock the door, he ran his hand over his face.

      When was the last time he’d gotten an immediate jolt when he first laid eyes on a woman? Oh, yeah, Charlotte. That certainly cooled his interest. He glanced at India Pike in her stylish getup that had a hint of some other era and realized she was a fancy woman, concerned with appearances just like Charlotte had been. A woman didn’t dress and apply her makeup with such care if she wasn’t concerned with what other people thought about her.

      “Mr. Parrish?”

      Damn it, he’d been staring and somehow managed to miss the obvious fact that India had turned toward him.

      “Yeah. My truck is just around the corner.”

      “I’m parked out back. I’ll get my car, and you can follow me.”

      “Okay.” But when they reached the end of the alley that ran behind the line of shops, it was blocked by a delivery truck. “You can ride with me. I’m parked right here.” He pointed toward his pickup, two spaces down from where they stood.

      India looked back at the delivery truck again before agreeing.

      When they reached his vehicle, he opened the door for her. She hesitated again before placing her hand in his so he could help her up. Her fingers felt so small and soft in his, and he caught a whiff of the same flowery scent he had in the store. He didn’t know why, but it made him think of pale pink rose petals, the kind that were silky when you ran your fingers across them.

      “Thank you,” she said when she was seated.

      He reluctantly let go of her hand, shut the door then spent the time it took him to walk around to the driver’s side telling himself to snap out of it. Instant infatuations never led to anything good. Best to let them pass without acting on them. When he slid into his seat, he sensed more than saw how tense she was. Maybe she was just anxious about getting into a vehicle with someone she didn’t know.

      “We can wait until the alley is clear if you want,” he said, waving a hand toward where two guys were unloading a grandfather clock behind the antique store.

      “No, it’s okay. The fairgrounds aren’t far.” She pointed out the windshield. “Go down a block and turn left.”

      He followed her directions for all of three minutes before they arrived at the fairgrounds, where he could see an arena, a grandstand, stables and a couple of smaller outbuildings. Small, but workable. He hurried out of the truck and went around to open her door. Just before he touched her dainty hand, he started reciting state capitals in his head. Once India was on solid ground, he released her and started walking toward the arena.

      “You said on the phone that this would be a benefit rodeo,” he said.

      “Yes, for a little girl who is undergoing cancer treatments.”

      His heart squeezed. “How old is she?”

      “Eight.”

      “Same age as my daughter.” He couldn’t imagine Ginny having to fight for her life like that, not when she should be playing and enjoying each new experience to the fullest. He looked toward India in time to notice her eyeing his hand, searching for a ring. He lifted his left hand and wiggled his bare fingers. “Ginny’s mother and I aren’t together.” Now why had he felt the need to offer up that nugget of information?

      “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding embarrassed.

      “I’m not.” Shifting focus, he pointed toward the arena. “You’ve got a good basic setup here, but we’ll have to make some adjustments.”

      “Whatever you think we need, as long as it’s not too expensive.”

      He glanced toward India again, noticing she was shading her eyes against the sun. “You need a hat.” He thumped the front edge of his.

      “I’m not much of a cowgirl,” she said. “Like at all. I can’t even ride a horse.”

      “You’re not from here?”

      “I grew up here. Just...didn’t have much opportunity to learn. And animals and I don’t get along too well.”

      Just as he thought, one-hundred-percent girly female. How could you live in Texas your entire life and not learn how to ride a horse? He tried to picture her on