Taming a Dark Horse. Stella Bagwell

but none of them are husband material.”

      His frown was tinged with disgust. “If they’re not husband material, then what are they?”

      “Well, I’m sure you have girlfriends. It’s the same thing. They’re just companions, guys that I enjoy doing things with.”

      Linc wanted to kick himself for suddenly feeling so disillusioned. Just what was he expecting from this woman? he asked himself. She was young and beautiful. No doubt she had plenty of men friends she enjoyed herself with. To her they were probably nothing more than toys.

      Ignoring the part about the girlfriends, he said, “If that’s the case, then what do you call husband material?”

      Pursing her lips with displeasure she shook her head. “I’m not really thinking about that now. I’m only twenty-five. I’m not ready to settle down. In fact, I’m not sure that I ever want to get married.”

      “You just said you wanted a family,” he reminded her.

      Her expression went stone-sober as she walked past him and picked up one of the cases she’d left in the doorway.

      “I do. I just can’t figure out how to have one without having a man in the house with me. Unfortunately you need one to produce children.” Sighing, she placed the duffel bag upon the bed and began to pull out a stack of blue jeans. “But I keep hoping that someday I’ll meet a man who will change my mind about love.”

      Love. Now that was a word he never spoke, didn’t believe in, or want it discussed in his presence. It made him feel very squeamish.

      Realizing it was long past time he left the room, Linc turned toward the door only to have her call after him.

      “Where are you going?”

      Without looking at her, he said, “To call down to the ranch to see if they can round you up a television from the big house. You’re going to need something to keep you busy.”

      Her tinkling laugh filled the bedroom. “I don’t need a television. I’ve got you to keep me busy.”

      Like hell, Linc thought.

       Chapter Three

      More than an hour passed before Nevada finished unpacking her things and arranging them just as she wanted in the big bedroom. The dresser and chest were massive, along with the walk-in closet. She could have brought every piece of clothing and toiletries she owned and they wouldn’t have filled half the available space.

      Nevada couldn’t believe the house had been built just for the sole purpose of extra housing for ranch workers. It was too beautiful and, in spite of its old age, had been kept in perfect condition. Someone had taken great pains to copy the big ranch house and rich details could be seen in the dark oak casings around the windows and doors, the expensive tiling on the floor, not to mention the nice furnishings.

      The first moment she’d walked into the house, she’d felt some sort of strange connection, a feeling that made her wonder if she was experiencing what it felt like to go home. Which had been an odd reaction for Nevada. Since she’d been a very young child, she hadn’t ever felt like she had a home. At least, not like regular folks.

      Even though she’d grown up in a house with two parents, it had been far from a normal home. Her mother and father had quarreled incessantly until their arguments had become out-and-out fights that included throwing fists and objects. Nevada had often hidden in the closet praying for the noise to stop and praying, too, that she would someday be able to escape the house that seemed to be filled with nothing but hate.

      No. Nevada wasn’t exactly sure what a real home would feel like, but she was certain this old house might hold the answers.

      Giving one last look over her shoulder, she left the room. Her medical bag was still in the car and she wanted to get Linc’s bandages changed before it was time for dinner. Something she was to cook, she supposed, since the closest restaurants or delis were at least twenty miles away. Nevada wasn’t exactly brilliant in the kitchen, but if necessary she could put something edible on the table.

      Humming to herself, she stepped onto the porch and immediately spotted Linc sitting a few steps away in a wooden rocker. His felt hat was pulled down over his eyes, but the moment he heard her footsteps and the creaking of the screen door closing behind her, he pushed it back on his forehead and cocked an eye at her.

      “What are you doing?”

      The question seemed comical to her and she laughed softly. “Does it matter?”

      He scooted up from his slumped position in the chair. “No. Since you’re going to be here for a while, I can’t start worrying whether you can take care of yourself or not.”

      She walked over to him. “What do you mean, take care of myself?”

      He shrugged one thick shoulder. “I just meant you surely have enough sense not to do silly things. Like walk out in the woods by yourself.”

      Nevada frowned. “Why shouldn’t I walk in the woods?”

      He let out a long sigh. “Bears for one thing. Another, you’d turn around once and be lost. The mountains and the basins begin to all look the same. You’d probably be to the Colorado border before you realized you were going north.”

      Nevada had to admit she wasn’t necessarily good with directions and as for bears, one of those hairy creatures was the last thing she wanted to meet up with.

      Smiling at him, she said, “You’re probably right about that. I have to take a map with me just to find my way around Santa Fe. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get out in the woods. You’ll be along to help me find the way.”

      Linc’s mouth fell open. “Bullsh—”

      He stopped abruptly before he released the last of the curse word and Nevada only smiled wider.

      “What’s the matter now? You don’t like to take walks?” she asked.

      Linc rolled his eyes. “I use my legs for a purpose. I walk all over the ranch yard. I don’t walk for a woman’s entertainment.”

      “But you’re not working down at the ranch yard now,” she sweetly pointed out. “And if it’s safe to ask, just what do you do to entertain a woman? Can you sing or play the guitar?”

      He scowled. “No and no.”

      “Oh,” she said with feigned disappointment. “I thought all cowboys could do those two things.”

      “Only on television,” he grumbled.

      “Well, I’m sure you have some talents. And I’m bound to discover what they are before I leave here.”

      “Don’t bet on that.”

      Laughing softly, Nevada stepped off the porch and walked to her car. Once she had the medical bag out of the trunk, she carried it to the porch and motioned for Linc to follow her inside.

      “What do you have there?” he asked suspiciously without making a move to do her bidding.

      “My medical bag. And there’s not a thing in here that will hurt you. So get to your feet and come along.”

      “I don’t need any medicine. I’ve already taken it for today,” he said as he managed to rise to his feet without the help of his arms or hands.

      The man must have rock-hard abs, Nevada thought, to raise himself up with no help from his upper limbs. But she didn’t need to be thinking about Linc Ketchum’s abs or the whipcord strength of his body. She was here to nurse, not daydream.

      “I’m not going to give you any medicine,” she assured him, then shot him a little smile that was a bit wicked. “I have other things I need to do to you.”

      Eying her through narrowed lashes, Linc stopped in his tracks. “Whoa now,” he said firmly. “If you think I’m going to