darts on a nearby table, and they were soon joined by the beer and shooters that they’d ordered.
He took a long drink of the ale then handed her a dart. “Ladies first. Want to play down from 501?”
“Make it 301.” Leah removed her light sweater and hung it carefully on the back of her stool. Then she studied the board, trying to decide what strategy to use. In her younger, rodeoing years, she’d spent so much time in bars that she’d been damn near perfect at this game. But now she figured she’d be lucky to hit the bull’s-eye. So she took aim, threw…and missed her target by a fraction of an inch. Just enough for the dart to hit a wire and bounce, uselessly, to the floor.
“Out of practice?” Colt asked, his voice all innocent concern.
At a lot of things, Leah thought. Not the least of which was hanging out with an attractive man who was focusing all his attention on her. Not that Colt was hitting on her, or anything. They’d been friends too long for that. But there was a light in his eyes that told her he found her desirable. And that was more than a little distracting for a woman who had spent the past five years mashing baby food and changing diapers.
The kids were past that stage now, thankfully. But looking after them still took the majority of her time.
“So what brings you back to Roundup? Visiting your mom?” Colt took the next dart and went to line up.
He couldn’t know how good he looked, standing there. No man wore a pair of Wranglers quite like Colt. How was she supposed to concentrate on their conversation?
Focus, Leah.
“I’m, uh, not visiting. I’ve moved here. Planning to start my own business.”
He’d raised his arm to throw the dart, but went still at her news. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve been staying at Mom’s for the past few weeks, but tomorrow I move into a house I rented on Timberline Drive.”
“Timberline Drive…” A slight frown appeared on his brow. “Is that off Mine Road, near the river?”
“That’s it. I got a great deal on the rent. Thankfully it’s a lot cheaper to live here than it was in Calgary.” She took a drink as Colt turned to the board and threw his dart. Damn thing landed in the outer bull. Clearly Colt wasn’t out of practice.
“Nice shot.” She tried not to sound grudging.
“By the way, I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to tell you I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”
“Thank you.” She appreciated Colt’s condolences even though more than five years had gone by. The heart attack had been unexpected, but according to the family doctor, at least her father’s death had been quick, without time for suffering. After, Leah’s mother hadn’t had the grit—or the family support—to carry on ranching the way Colt’s mother, Sarah Hart, had done after Colt’s father’s death ten years ago. Prue Stockton had sold their small property within six months, along with the cattle and the few horses they still had around the place—which included Country Girl, Leah’s old barrel racing horse.
Leah picked up her second dart. Focusing on the task at hand was what won her prize money when she competed at rodeos. Now she stared at the dartboard with the same intensity, blanking out the bar, the noise, Colt’s presence…
To hell with the bull’s-eye. She aimed for the sweet spot in the twentieth section, and let out a whoop when her dart landed perfectly in the thin inner portion between the red and green circles.
Colt raised his glass, toasting her success. She joined him at the table, touching her bottle to his, basking in the warmth of his smile. He seemed genuinely glad that she’d done well. Colt wasn’t one of those guys who hated losing to a woman. He wasn’t a bad loser, period. She’d never seen him so much as throw his hat into the dirt after a bad ride on a bunking bronc.
“Maybe I should concede, after all,” he said.
Not at all sure how she would follow up that last, lucky throw, she was quick to agree. “Let’s just talk for a while.” She took a swallow of beer. “What have you been up to in the last six years?”
“It’s been sort of a blur,” he admitted. “A lot of time on the road, traveling from rodeo to rodeo.”
“Had much success?”
“A little.”
She knew what a talented athlete he was in the rodeo arena, yet he wasn’t bragging. “Come on. You’ve finalled in the NFR about eight years straight, haven’t you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but I still don’t have a world championship. Sometimes I wonder if I just don’t want it bad enough.”
His answer surprised her. The Colt she remembered from high school and the rodeo arena didn’t spend a lot of time on introspection. “Rodeo life isn’t easy. Maybe you’re tired.”
He forced a smile. “I can’t afford to be. Those purses pay my bills.”
“But you work on Thunder Ranch as well, don’t you?” And surely his mother paid him a salary for that.
“Not as much as my family would like. But enough about me.” He touched the sleeve of her shirt. “I see you still favor purple.”
“Lavender,” she corrected, pleased that he’d remembered her rodeo colors. She’d packed away the purple cowboy boots and hat, but she still liked to wear her Western shirts.
“It’s a good shade for you. Not quite the same color as your eyes. But it makes them stand out, all the same.”
Leah had been fed glib lines about her eyes before. Lots of times. But Colt’s comment didn’t sound superficial. And there was nothing trite about the way he was smiling at her, in a soft and wondering way.
Possibly there were depths to this cowboy that she hadn’t appreciated in the past. “And you still favor red.” She touched his arm this time, under the guise of checking out the soft, chambray fabric. But really it was the rock-hard muscles of the male who was wearing the shirt that impressed her.
Colt sandwiched her hand with his. “That feels nice. Your hand on my arm.”
She had to admit it did. More than just nice. Colt was different than she remembered and not just in appearance. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had gone through some hard times and matured these past few years.
“Leah—I just want to be real clear on one point. You’re not married anymore, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Good. I’ve never kissed a married woman before and I was hoping this wasn’t going to be the exception.”
Chapter Two
Colt didn’t make a habit of kissing women in public places, either. Generally, he was pretty circumspect when it came to matters of the libido. But this was different. Leah Stockton was different. How could you fall in love at first sight with someone you’d known all your life?
But
