One Tall, Dusty Cowboy. Stella Bagwell

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she could allow that to happen. One night with this man was going to be hard enough to get through and still keep her resistance intact.

      Outside, the evening air had already begun to cool and before they stepped off the small porch, Lilly took a moment to wrap a white shawl around her bare shoulders.

      “Have you lived here long?” Rafe asked as he took her by the elbow and started to his waiting truck.

      “Yes. I bought the place a few years ago. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s not far from work and my neighbors are very nice.” The modest, two-bedroom house sat on two lots surrounded by chain-link fence. Except for a large cottonwood and a tall patch of prickly pear near the porch, the yard was mostly bare of landscape. “I’ve been planning to do more with the yard, but being a nurse always seems to get in the way of planting shrubs and flowers.”

      “I like it this way,” he said. “Nice and neat.”

      Compared to the Silver Horn ranch house, this place must look like a miniature dollhouse to him, but then compared to his home, most every house in Carson City was lacking.

      His vehicle, a sleek, black, four-door pickup truck was parked along the street and as he helped her into the passenger seat, he said, “I hope you don’t mind riding in a truck. We’ve not had a car on the ranch since—not in a long time.”

      Lilly wondered if he was going to say since his mother had passed away. But she wasn’t going to ask. Not when he’d clearly skirted the issue.

      “I don’t mind,” she assured him.

      And why would she? The interior of Rafe’s truck was far more luxurious than her little economy car or, for that matter, anything she’d ever ridden in. The seats were buttery-soft leather and the dashboard was equipped with all sorts of gadgets that she would need a manual to operate.

      Rafe and his four brothers had been born into wealth and she wondered if he took all the luxury for granted, or if that aspect of his life was even important to him.

      The questions made her realize how very little she knew about this man. But then she didn’t want to get to know him that well. She wanted to keep this evening light and simple. And once it was over she could put it and him behind her.

      “So how was your day?” he asked as they traveled down a residential street that would connect them to a main thoroughfare.

      “Restful. After working eighty hours this past week in E.R. a day off is special. The only nursing I did today was with your grandfather.”

      “You drove out to the Horn on your day off just to give Gramps his therapy? You must be damned dedicated.”

      “Bart is making such good progress that I don’t want to miss a day. At least, not until he reaches another level.”

      “He showed me how he can work his fingers now. I was impressed. You’ve only been treating him for a week.”

      “Two weeks,” she corrected. “I had already been working with Bart a week before that day you and I met on the stairs.”

      With a rueful shake of his head, he said, “What a shame. All that wasted time that we could have had together.”

      Ignoring his outrageous comment, she said, “Apparently, you don’t spend much time around the house.”

      “I sleep and eat there, but not much more. I have too many responsibilities outside,” he explained. “There’s always something to be done on the range—with the cattle and horses.”

      She glanced over at him and was instantly struck by his long, lean body and the dark, proud profile of his face. The only cowboys she’d ever been around were the ones who passed through the E.R. and the common denominator she’d noticed in them was their gritty toughness. She expected Rafe Calhoun was the epitome of that.

      “And what exactly are your responsibilities on the ranch?”

      “I’m the foreman over the cow/calf operation. I oversee the health and nutrition of all the cattle and that includes every aspect of their feeding routine, conditions of the grazing land, calving operations, breeding, identification and vaccination. There’s more, but I don’t want to bore you.”

      “It doesn’t bore me at all. Since I know very little about ranching, it’s all fascinating to me.”

      He slanted her a wry look. “It’s hard to imagine that you aren’t familiar with ranching. You live in the West, my dear. Where do you hang out?”

      “There are several hospitals in Carson City. Are you familiar with nursing and medical treatment?” she tossed back at him.

      He chuckled. “You are good, Lilly. Real good. I have the feeling you’re going to keep me on my toes tonight.”

      And she had a feeling she was already in trouble, Lilly decided. Not only was the man a delight to her eyes, he made her want to smile. Something that Lilly had almost forgotten how to do.

      “I’ll try not to be a dull girl,” she promised, then glanced around as she noticed the bulk of the city slipping behind them. “I thought we were going to eat. What do you have planned? Parking out on the desert and eating off the tailgate?”

      He snapped his fingers. “Say, that’s a nice idea. Especially with the moon almost being full. But unfortunately, I didn’t think of it before I made reservations at a place over on the north rim of the lake.”

      She’d not expected him to drive all the way to Lake Tahoe just for dinner. But she supposed it didn’t really matter. Whether they were in a fast-food joint or a cozy café, she was going to be in his close company and she could already feel that each moment she spent with this man was going to take a heavy toll on her common sense.

      * * *

      A half hour later, when he pulled the truck to a stop in front of the Sierra Chateau and handed the keys to a waiting valet, Lilly was beginning to understand just what it meant to be a Calhoun. The closest that she, or any of her friends, had gotten to this place was only in their imagination.

      The three-story rock structure resembled a small castle nestled within giant pines and pungent spruce trees. A rock bridge formed a walkway over a rushing stream while every space of lawn was filled with blooming shrubs and flowers. It was truly a fairy-tale scene.

      “Rafe, I’m very angry with you,” she said as he tucked her hand into the curve of his arm.

      He escorted her over the bridge toward a canopied entrance where a doorman waited to open a pair of opulent glass doors. “Why? I haven’t done anything—yet.”

      “I am not dressed for anything like this! And I don’t think I’ll be comfortable. Why couldn’t we have gone out for burgers and fries?”

      He thumped the heel of his palm against his forehead in a clueless gesture. “Why in heck didn’t you tell me beforehand?”

      “Because you didn’t give me a chance to tell you anything. You simply took the bull by the horns.”

      His eyes sparkling, he grinned down at her. “I am a cowboy,” he reminded her. “I’m an expert at taking the bull by the horns.”

      Lilly

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