Her Cowboy Boss Page 10

  He was perfectly aware that she was safe and...beautiful, but all the same, he asked, “You okay?”

  She smiled at him. “Uh-huh. I wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t caught me, though.”

  “You should’ve come down another step,” he said absently, unable to look anywhere except at her lips.

  “From now on I will,” she promised breathlessly, her lips seeming to come closer with every syllable.

  He nodded dumbly, standing there like a lump, with her in his arms, until her smile widened and it occurred to him that he really ought to put her down. When he looked around, though, he saw that the floor was littered with boxes and supplies. He didn’t think anything dangerous, like glass, was broken, but just to be safe, he turned and carried her out of there, feeling ten feet tall and as strong as Samson. When he let her feet swing down to the floor, she didn’t immediately move away, and that was dangerous. Very dangerous. Reaching behind him, he hung his thumbs in his back pockets to keep from reaching for her again.

  “Thank you,” she said. “That was quick thinking. I’ll be more careful, you can be sure.”

  He nodded. “Close call.”

  “Yes. Very.” She turned away, but then she abruptly swung back again, mimicking his stance. “Can I ask you something?”

  Since the goats, she’d taken to wearing jeans with her scrub tops, a lethal combination to his mind. He managed not to clear his throat and still speak nonchalantly. “Sure.”

  “You remember that Dad’s testing to determine the state of his cancer starts tomorrow morning.”

  “I remember. You’ll be off tomorrow and Friday to take him to the hospital in Oklahoma City.”

  “Yes, and because so much is riding on this, our whole family and a lot of our friends are meeting at our church tonight for a special prayer meeting for Dad. He’ll be there, too. I’d like it, and I know he’d like it, if you could join us. Do you think you might?”

  Stark couldn’t think of a single reason he could not. He knew such reasons existed and that they were good ones. He’d been using them for four years, after all. At the moment, however, not a single one came to mind, so he just smiled tightly and said, “I can do that.”

  Meri beamed, bouncing up on her toes. “That’s wonderful! Oh, I’m so glad.” She told him the time. “You know where Countryside Church is, don’t you?”

  “I know where it is.”

  She beamed at him some more. Then she half turned and said, “Well, I’d better clean up the mess I made.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “No, no,” she protested. “You have appointments. I’ll be very careful. Besides, it’s my mess. I’ll take care of it.”

  He really had no business putting himself into close proximity with her again, anyway, so he nodded. “I’ll go out the front.”

  “That might be best.” She slipped into the back hall, but then she stuck her head out again. “Don’t forget your lunch.”

  “Right.” She’d shown up with the new lunch kit and a toaster oven that morning. The electric burner was on order and would arrive soon, along with a few pots and pans.

  “See you tonight.”

  He nodded, shouldered his medical pack, picked up the lunch she’d packed for him and went out.

  What was it about that woman? First she had him praying, and now she had him going to a prayer meeting. Add to that the fact that she’d practically set up housekeeping for him in what had previously been a clinic with a bed, and his life was beginning to approach something that could be considered normal.

  What was worse was how close he’d come to kissing her just now. And how much he still wanted to do that.

  * * *

  Well aware that Stark hadn’t been attending services at any church, Meredith hovered anxiously in the foyer of the small, neat, unpretentious building. She hadn’t told her family that he had promised to come, just in case he found an excuse not to. No doubt, he’d intended to come as he’d promised, but after what had happened—or almost happened—that morning, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d changed his mind. On the other hand, she’d had the feeling lately that he was somehow testing her, trying to figure out if she was interested in him romantically. Unfortunately, she didn’t know if he might be developing feelings for her, too, or if he would summarily fire her if he suspected how greatly she was attracted to him. At times, she thought for certain that the attraction was mutual. This morning seemed to prove that it was, but that might be all the reason he needed to let her go. That being the case, she felt great relief when his truck pulled into the graveled parking lot.

  She walked out to meet him, pulling her duster-length sweater tighter over the simple black knit top that she wore with jeans and tall black boots. She’d splurged on the boots ages ago and hardly ever wore them. The long lines made her look taller. Besides, she really didn’t have a lot from which to choose. Work and fear had curtailed her social life so much that she had neglected her wardrobe shamefully. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn lipstick. She hoped the shade that she’d chosen tonight was subtle enough to go without comment.

  Stark came around the front of his truck, fitting his good black hat to his head. Freshly shaved, he wore a dark blue tweed sport coat over a white shirt and clean dark jeans, with square-toed black boots.

  Sweeping his gaze over her, he said, “You’re looking good.”

  She smiled, fresh relief mixed with delight flowing through her. “Thank you. Nice jacket.”

  He tugged on his cuffs. “Thanks.”

  They turned and walked to the building side by side.

  “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said. “I imagine you ride, growing up on a ranch, but I thought I ought to make sure. It could come in handy.”

  “Of course I ride,” Meri answered. “I’m not as comfortable on horseback as Ann and Rex, but I’ve logged plenty of hours in the saddle. It’s been a while, though.”

  “We’ll work on it,” he said, “assuming the Straight Arrow can loan us a couple mounts.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  “Great.”

  That felt promising. Obviously, he wasn’t ready to toss her out on her ear just yet.

  They had come to the door, so he reached around her and pulled it open. She stepped through in front of him, then paused to wait for him to catch up to her, feeling his hand on the small of her back, urging her forward. That hand stayed in place as they walked across the foyer and through the double doors into the sanctuary, where Stark swept off his hat. People turned, nodded, gestured. Stark nodded back.

  Feeling many eyes on them, Meri did her best not to smile like the cat that ate the canary as they progressed down the aisle, him matching his steps to hers. When they came to the pew where her family sat, she started to gesture for them to make an extra space, but Stark caught her by the elbow and looked pointedly at the pew just behind. A long stretch of space beckoned. She could have sat beside her family with him on his own behind, but she slipped into the empty space with him and lowered herself onto the pew.

  Stark sat next to her on the end, his hat in his hands, glancing around as much as he could without turning his head. She knew that he felt uncomfortable, so she patted his knee, thrilled when his big hand covered hers. His eyes mere slits, he gave her the barest smile, and that’s all it took to make her heart start pounding.

  What was it about him that moved her so? How did he make her feel safe and at the same time excited? She hadn’t even liked him a few weeks ago. The man could be positively exasperating and utterly endearing. She was starting to read him, to know what he was feeling and thinking. It scared her a little.

  Everything she knew about him told her that he was a bad risk. One wrong step and she could find herself cut out of his
life completely, and yet they’d come such a long way already.

  He’d allowed her to make changes around the clinic. Even better, he let her take care of him in some ways, and that brought her more pleasure than it probably should. If only he could let go of the guilt and anger surrounding the deaths of his wife and daughter, they might have a chance at something special, something beyond boss and employee, more than mere friendship. Did she dare hope for that, though? Was she even ready for more than friendship?

  When she was with him, she thought so. When she wasn’t with him, she wondered if she imagined how comfortable she felt with him. How was it even possible to be comfortable and excited with the same man?

  Her faith told her that if she really cared for him, she’d be more concerned for him than herself. That being the case, she focused her prayers almost as much on Stark that evening as on her father. Oh, she prayed mightily for her father’s healing, silently joining her prayers to those of her family and friends, but she also prayed that Stark would be able to put his guilt and anger behind him and find true healing, spiritually and emotionally.

  During the prayer time, Stark sat forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his hat in his hands, his head bowed. Meri sat beside him, her hands folded and eyes closed, wishing she had the courage—and the right—to link her arm with his as Rex and Callie did, while Rex kept his other arm around their dad. Dean sat with his arm wrapped around Ann, their heads together. At one point, Meri leaned forward and touched Ann’s shoulder. Ann reached up and grasped her hand, then took Callie’s hand on the other side, so all the family were linked to Wes through Rex. To Meri’s absolute delight, Stark silently took her other hand.

  After the meeting, when everyone rose to leave, several people came to shake Stark’s hand. Some of those said, “Glad y’all were here,” as if she and Stark were a couple.

  Meri couldn’t be upset about that. She just smiled and pretended not to notice.

  Wes worked his way over to them and clapped Stark on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming, Stark. I appreciate it.”

  “I want you to have a good report,” Stark said.

  “Don’t see how it can be anything else,” Wes told him, smiling. He looked more and more fit. His hair had grown in thicker and snow-white, which made his sky-blue eyes look all the brighter. His color was good, if somewhat paler than in years past, and he was gaining weight almost daily, it seemed. “Thanks for giving Meredith the time off to drive me up to the City.”

  “No problem.”

  “There’s cereal and milk for your breakfast,” she reminded Stark, “and fruit if you want it. And there’s lunch meat and bread for sandwiches, and several kinds of snacks.”

  He chuckled. “I saw the groceries you brought in.”

  “And don’t forget to check your calendar. All your appointments are on it. You’ll have to take the calls yourself while I’m gone, of course.” She’d considered trying to handle them from the City, but that didn’t make sense.

  Stark sent Wes a dry look that he then switched to her, his lips twitching. “I did this for a long time without you, Meredith.”

  She grimaced, feeling foolish. “I know.”

  “But it’s a lot easier with you,” he admitted softly.

  Ridiculously pleased, she went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, only realizing when he cleared his throat that she might have chosen a more circumspect moment for that.

  “Don’t worry,” he told her, patting her shoulder. “I’ll be fine until you get back.”

  “I’m sure you will,” she said, looking at her toes so he wouldn’t see the color in her face.

  “Well, you have to leave early in the morning.” He nodded a farewell and started up the aisle. “Drive safe.”

  “See you Saturday,” she called.

  “Saturday,” he echoed, glancing over his shoulder.

  She watched him stride toward the door and disappear through it, donning his hat once more, and it occurred to her that she had no reason to worry about her feelings for Stark Burns. It was too late for that.

  She was half in love with him already, and she didn’t see any way to stop it. Chances were very good that he would break her heart, but maybe she’d leave him better than she’d found him. That was something, wasn’t it?

  Oh, Lord, let it be. If that’s all it can be, I’ll settle for that and be glad of it.

  She would try, anyway. For Stark’s sake.

  Chapter Nine

  Meri hadn’t been part of Stark’s daily routine long enough for him to wake up missing her. Still, he woke to the unhappy realization that she wouldn’t be in that morning, and the place felt especially empty. To make matters worse, he didn’t have a field appointment until late morning, so he had plenty of time to sit around eating the cold cereal she’d bought and speculating about what she was doing. That made Thursday one of the longest days in recorded history.

  Stark couldn’t help wondering if she was thinking of him. Did she worry that he wouldn’t eat properly? Had he imagined that her reaction—or lack of reaction—to his touch was anything other than simple, innocent friendship?

  He’d gone over that kiss on the cheek a thousand times, but he couldn’t make it anything more than a kiss on the cheek. In public. In church! In front of her father, no less.

  The days after Cathy and Bel had died had melded together into cloudy weeks of agonized grief. He’d hardly been able to tell one day from another. They’d all passed with unbearable sadness. Then suddenly months had disappeared, and he’d had to do something or go insane. He’d been at his parents’ home in Tulsa all that time, unable to go back to the place where he and Cathy had built a life together, but he’d had to start somewhere, so he’d bought a new truck with part of the insurance settlement and driven back to Ponca City.

  He hadn’t been able to even turn into the place he and Cathy had built. Instead, he’d gone to the clinic where he hadn’t shown up for months and arranged for his partner to buy him out. By that time, the proposition had come as no surprise. After that, friends had packed up his personal things for him. He’d sent Cathy’s and Bel’s to her mom. She had dispersed them among the family. He’d sold the ranch—the land, house, furnishings, equipment, livestock and all—without ever setting foot on the property again. Then he’d wandered around the state until he’d found this clinic here in War Bonnet, paid cash for it and halfheartedly settled in.

  Moneywise, he’d probably never have to work another day in his life if he didn’t want to. But then what would he do? Grieve himself to death? At times in the past, the idea had held a certain appeal, felt almost right. Yet, something in him had continued to strive to survive.

  All day, Stark kept thinking about something the pastor at Countryside had said in his short message before the prayers had begun on Wednesday evening. The pastor had said that every Christian’s ultimate home was Heaven but that God had created this earth for His children, so we all had a natural affinity for it. The pastor contended that God had intended humankind to live here happily, without the taint of sin, but that the gift of free will had allowed sin to enter the picture, so God had always been ready with an alternate plan in the form of Christ. God was always ready with alternate plans, the pastor had said, because this world required them. According to him, we could not always see the wisdom of God’s decisions or how they affected everyone involved, but we could always trust that God had everyone’s best interests at heart.

  Stark had some difficulty with that last statement. In whose best interest was the death of his daughter? He could accept the idea that she and Cathy had passed into Heaven and were happy there now, but how did that benefit anyone else? The very idea angered him.

  On the other hand, he couldn’t quite find it in him to resent the idea of an alternate plan now that they were gone, though he knew that not long ago he wo
uld have. That troubled him, almost as much as how he missed Meredith. Disgusted with himself, he determined to put her out of his mind.

  Friday was twice as busy as Thursday, and that should’ve helped, but somehow it didn’t. Despite not having time to take more than two bites out of the sandwich he’d packed for lunch, he couldn’t help thinking of Meri. The sandwich didn’t taste right, anyway. He’d put everything on it that Meredith had, right down to the salt and pepper, but it just didn’t taste the same, which probably meant that he had finally crossed over into certifiably wacko, as did the growing conviction that he’d return to the clinic that evening and find her there, waiting for him.

  All that awaited him at the clinic that evening, however, was the electric burner she’d ordered, and a small box of pots and pans to use with it.

  He had to fight not to call her. Surely she’d want to know that the burner and pans had arrived, but he knew that if he spoke to her, he’d give himself away. He sat on the edge of his bed with his phone in his hand for a good hour, trying to think how he might word his call and pitch his voice so as not to betray himself for the lonely, heartsick fool he’d become.

  It made no sense. He’d avoided as much human contact as he possibly could for four long years, and now he was crushing like mad on his pretty little assistant, who probably didn’t even really like him. He’d given her no reason to be interested in him. He no longer even knew how to attract a woman. He was scared to death by even the thought of it.

  Tossing the phone onto the bed, he closed his eyes and put his hands to his head. “Oh, God,” he prayed aloud, “I don’t know how to do this anymore. I think I’ve forgotten how to live. I know I’ve forgotten how to trust. Or hope. I’m a mess. Why would any woman want me?”

  He sighed, just sitting there in the silence that was his life, and in the back of his mind, he heard a little girl giggle. For the first time in so long he almost couldn’t remember how long, he smiled at the memory. Suddenly, memories came at him so fast that he couldn’t process them, some happy, some irritating, some just...life. So many hurled themselves at him that he didn’t know what to do with them. Desperate to turn them off, he got up and went to his computer, clicking on a television program he’d downloaded and never taken the time to watch.