The Cowboy's Second Chance. Christyne Butler

this ranch.

      Other than the outlines of a few buildings, including a one-story house with a wraparound porch, he couldn’t see much in the darkness. The quiet surprised him. The barn sounded as if it was full of horses, but except for Willie, there weren’t any other cowboys in sight, and only one other pickup besides his own.

      Unusual for a Saturday night and a holiday…

      Stop thinking so much. Landon shut the other barn door. You’ve got more important things to worry about.

      His body was wracked with sharp twinges of pain as he moved toward the stalls. After closer inspection of G.W.’s leg, he was happy to see the swelling under control.

      “Wish I had some liniment to help you out, boy.” He kept his voice soft as he rewrapped the leg with firm pressure. “We’ll have to rely on good ol’ cold and hot therapy until I can get more cash.”

      G.W. responded with a flick of his ears. A twinge of guilt twisted through Landon as he watched his horse feed. After a week of foraging on the side of the road, it was clear the palomino was enjoying the fresh hay and water.

      Landon left the stall and walked to the bench. A low groan escaped as he pulled off his boots. It took a minute for another wave of dizziness to pass before he emptied his pockets into the duffel bag. He kept the tarnished silver locket. It took all his strength not to open it and look inside.

      Rubbing his fingers over the inlaid scrollwork, he stared at it for a long moment then shoved it back into his jeans. Not now. He couldn’t deal with any more pain tonight.

      What was left of his shirt hung free and he undid the few remaining buttons before releasing the top button of his jeans. His shoulders and arms ached as he reached around to rub the scar tissue on his lower back. He could get the crap kicked out of him and the injury didn’t flare up. Then something as simple as changing a tire and—

      Injury. Yeah, right.

      Injury implied healing. Not this. This he would carry for the rest of his life. He peeled the shirt off his shoulders. A low creaking caused him to spin around.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She walked from the shadows, her arms filled with blankets, a pillow and a glass of water. “Willie called me from the bunkhouse and said you’d be staying…”

      A rush of heat spread across Landon’s skin when her gaze trailed from his face, past his open shirt to his feet, then back again. Brightness shone in her emerald eyes. The pink on her cheeks matched her full lips and the memory of their imaginary kiss came rushing back.

      He didn’t know if she was married or not, but the intensity of her stare was enough to start the pressure building behind his fly for the second time tonight.

      “I guess I should’ve knocked first.”

      Landon forced himself to relax. He tugged his shirt back onto his shoulders, thankful he still wore his hat. “It’s your barn.”

      She held out the bedding in her arms and frowned. “Why sleep out here?”

      “I already told your cowboy. The place is clean and the hay’s fresh. Better than where I’ve slept the last few days.” Landon’s heart pounded as he took the blankets, warm from her body. The now-familiar scent of fresh linen drifted around him. “Besides, most cowboys don’t welcome sharing a bunkhouse with an outsider. And I’m sure your husband isn’t too crazy about you bringing home a total stranger.”

      He placed the items on the bench then turned to find her holding out the glass in one hand, two pills in the other and a faint blush on her cheeks.

      “You might be right about the cowboys, but not the husband. I don’t have one.” She pushed the glass and pills at him. “Here, you must have one heck of a headache.”

      No husband.

      He ignored the jolt the news gave him, looked at the pills instead. He hesitated, hating how three years in prison had colored his view of people. He doubted the pills were anything other than pain medication. How could he refuse? She’d done more for him, a total stranger, than anyone else since he’d gotten out.

      “You said your ranch hand checked me out?” He took the glass. “How did he do that exactly?”

      “Willie served in the Korean War as a medic.” She dropped the medicine into his hand. “He has a bit of medical school under his belt, too. He’s helped a lot of people around here over the years.”

      Landon nodded before he tipped his head back and pretended to take the pills. Instead, he slipped them into his pocket and washed the dryness from his mouth with the cool water.

      “So, you all set?” She moved past him toward the horse stalls. “Got enough pillows, blankets…liniment?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You told me those men didn’t hurt your horse.” She stood at G.W.’s stall and grabbed the top edge of the split door. “But I saw him favoring his forelimb when you brought him out of the trailer.”

      He joined her, but stayed at arm’s length. “They didn’t hurt him. His injury happened about a week ago. Tonight’s excitement didn’t help.”

      She took the glass from his outstretched hand. “Neither did riding in your trailer.”

      G.W. shook his head and offered a nicker in response. She grinned and held her hand flat for the horse’s inspection before laying her palm on his nose and gently rubbing.

      Another stabbing pain pierced Landon’s chest. This one didn’t hurt like the others. Laced with an edge of something carnal, it curled inside his gut.

      He put more space between them and crossed his arms over his chest. The sawdust covering the concrete floor was cool against his feet. “He’s okay. I’ve got it under control.”

      “I’ve got Dermcusal, but it might be too late.” She offered the horse a final pat before moving away. “Warming liniments might help. There’s a refrigerator and warmer in the tack room.”

      “Lady, what are you—”

      “Wait right here.” She disappeared through a door in the corner of the barn. He could hear the jingling of keys, then she returned with a jumble of small boxes and tubes that she handed to him. “Here, these should help. If you want, we can call Kali Watson in the morning. She’s the local vet, well, the practice is her and her husband, but he’s gone at the moment—”

      “No.”

      Landon’s reply was stronger than he intended, evident by how she skittered backwards. He looked at the medicine he’d been hoping for a moment ago. Medicine he couldn’t afford.

      “Ah, no thanks.” His voice was softer this time. “I can care for him.”

      “How? You said you didn’t have anywhere to go tonight.”

      “I did? When?”

      “Back at the fairgrounds when we debated whether you were fit to drive.” She took another step toward the side door. “That’s how you ended up here.”

      Geez, he needed to clear the fog swirling in his head. What else had he said?

      He again looked at the tubes of ointment and swallowed hard. “I appreciate this, but I’m passing through. I can’t…I don’t have the money to pay you.”

      She waved off his words. “Don’t worry about it.”

      Pride filled him. He’d always earned everything he’d gotten in life. Long before his time in jail, charity wasn’t something he’d ever taken lightly. “And the hay—G.W. can eat like there’s no tomorrow. Your hospitality—”

      “Consider it a proper thank you for what you did for me tonight.” She reached behind her and opened the door. “You know, with all that’s happened you never did tell me your name.”