Her Cowboy Boss Read online

  “Really? Better and better. Tell me, is he seeing anyone?”

  “Uh...”

  “Too personal. My apologies. Maybe you could just tell me who his friends are. Or if he has friends. We can’t help worrying that he spends all his off time alone.”

  “Of course he has friends,” Meredith said, hoping to allay as much of his parents’ worry as possible. “My brother and father think very highly of S—your son. Everyone around here does.”

  “I see. That’s good to hear. Would you happen to know where he’s been spending his holidays? Because he hasn’t been home, really been home, in years. He hasn’t spent a total of eight hours here in over three years.”

  In other words, Stark had barely seen his parents since coming to War Bonnet.

  Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose to keep tears at bay. Knowing Stark, he’d spent every holiday right here in that Spartan little room of his, all alone, but his parents didn’t need to know that.

  “I really couldn’t say for sure, Mr. Burns. I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve no idea how much his mother and I would love to see him for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year,” the older man said. “It would mean the world to us, Meredith.”

  “I understand. I’ve only recently come home myself because my father’s been ill.”

  “I am sorry. I hope it’s not serious.”

  “It has been, but he’s much improved. The last report was a very good one. Stark came to church to pray for him before his tests.” She didn’t bother about using Stark’s given name this time. Marvin Burns needed to know that his son had people around him who cared about him.

  “Now that,” said his father, “does my heart a great deal of good. Thank you for telling me.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets this message,” she promised, “and I’ll do all I can to make sure that he’s not alone for the holidays this year, at the very least.”

  “Bless you, my dear. Bless you. Do you mind if I ask your last name?”

  “It’s Billings. Meredith Billings.”

  “I’ll be praying for your father’s continued good health.”

  “Thank you so much, and goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Meredith hung up the phone and sat staring at it for several long seconds. So much for daydreams.

  How could Stark have failed to spend even a few days with his parents in the past three years and more? They weren’t at fault in the deaths of his wife and daughter. The only person who could have been assigned any fault had died in the same accident. Why couldn’t Stark see that? Shutting everyone out of his life had to stop. Otherwise, Stark had no life, not really. He just couldn’t go on ignoring his parents, refusing to take their phone calls, ignoring their messages.

  Of course, when she delivered that message, he was likely to shut her out of his life, but she had to at least try. For his sake.

  She decided that this was too important to put off until Monday morning. This needed to be handled as soon as possible. After calling home to say that she didn’t know what time she’d be in, she took the whole thing to God. Once she’d prayed herself out, she got up to pace.

  Eventually, she sat down on one of the padded chairs in the waiting area to read, but she soon worked her way through all the available material. Stark really needed to get in some fresh magazines. She thought she’d catnap for a bit, think what to say to Stark when he came in, rest her eyes...

  “Meri? Babe?” The voice in her head seemed to come to her down a long tunnel, but the hand on her shoulder felt very real. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

  Stirred to wakefulness, she sat up, sucking in a deep breath. “I guess I fell asleep. Talking to your dad.”

  “You fell asleep. Talking to my dad?”

  Blinking, she focused her eyes. Stark crouched in front of her, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He was wet, from his head to his bare feet.

  “You showered in your clothes again.”

  “Had to. I was filthy. What’s this about my father?”

  “He telephoned. They miss you, Stark. Your mom and dad miss you.”

  “Oh, is that all,” he said, sighing and hanging his head. “Scared me half to death seeing you there like that.”

  “What do you mean is that all?” she scolded, frowning.

  “I thought something was wrong with you,” he explained, glaring at her. “I didn’t mean that it’s nothing. I just meant...” He stroked a hand through her hair. “I’m glad there’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “There is something wrong with me,” she said, trying not to be swayed by the thrill of his touch. “You are hurting your parents. They need to talk to you, to see you. You won’t always have them, Stark. I know. My mom’s already gone, and my dad could have died at any time this past year.”

  “You don’t have to tell me about death, Meredith.” He folded his arms in a gesture very reminiscent of the old Stark, and that brought out the old Meri.

  “The point is, you didn’t bury the whole world when you buried your wife and daughter,” she snapped. She thought for a moment that he would blow up at her, and that she could have put that more gently. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was an ugly thing to say. It’s just that you still have family who love you, and I don’t want you to waste that.”

  After a few seconds he nodded. “You’re right. Can you let me get into some dry clothes before we talk more about it?”

  “Of course,” she answered softly.

  He went into the bedroom, then came out again seconds later, carrying a stack of clean clothing. He walked to the far back corner of the building, and she heard the door to the utility room close. After a minute or two the very faint sound of water running could be heard. She assumed that he’d changed and put his wet, soiled clothing into the washer. He returned a few moments later wearing clean dry jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and heavy socks, combing his hair as he walked. He slipped the comb into his back pocket and sat down across from her.

  “Look,” he said, “I want to see my parents. The problem, frankly, is my sisters. They’re both married with kids, and it’s really tough for me to be around that. I’m happy for them, and I want them to be happy, but when I’m around them, all I feel is...like I don’t belong anymore.” He shook his head. “It’s too painful.”

  Meredith sighed. “I can understand that. Now that my brother and sister are both married, I feel like a fifth wheel. Everyone else is paired up, all billing and cooing, and there I am, pretending not to notice.”

  Stark nodded. “Your dad must be feeling some of that, too, then.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. He and Rex and Ann were always pretty close, though, while I was closer to Mom. Now, I kind of feel like Dad and I are closer than before, so maybe it’s something we have in common.”

  “He brags on you,” Stark told her, and she couldn’t help smiling about that.

  “He does?”

  “Oh, yeah. He loves all his children. That’s easy to see, and I think he’s pretty pleased about Rex’s and Ann’s situations. But he’s really glad you’ve come home, Meri. Given what you’ve told me, I wonder if he expected it.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m glad if he’s happy about it.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “Your dad would be pleased if you just went home to visit.”

  “I know, and I’ll try to do that as soon as I can.”

  “Maybe for Thanksgiving?”

  Stark grimaced. “I just don’t know if I can handle that, with all the rest of the family there. But I’ll call him and arrange something.”

  “Don’t put it off, Stark. Call tonight.”

  “I will. About Thanksgiving, though.” He drummed his thumbs against his thighs. “Maybe you and I could, you know, sort
of support each other through the holidays.”

  She smiled. “That’s a thought. Maybe you could spend Thanksgiving with me and my family. Of course, there will still be married couples and children there.”

  “But they won’t be people who knew my late wife and daughter,” he said softly, “people I saw them with and remember them with.”

  “That’s true.”

  “It might be a good way to...reintegrate.”

  “Okay. So you can tell your dad that you’re spending Thanksgiving with the Billings family,” she said. “You might be more comfortable with the whole idea if you sort of ease into it. Say, by joining the family for church tomorrow?”

  Tilting his head, he flattened his lip as if trying not to smile. “Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you’re going to keep right on pushing and pushing and pushing, aren’t you?”

  “Until you stop me.”

  He pulled in a very deep breath through his nostrils. Then he got up, spread his hands and said, “See you tomorrow.”

  All but bursting with delight, Meredith bounced up out of her chair and went for her coat. “Ten thirty, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t forget to call your dad.”

  “Uh, yes, ma’am.”

  “And eat a good dinner.”

  “Yes. Ma’am. Anything else? Ma’am.”

  Grinning, she waggled her fingers at him in farewell. “Sleep well.”

  “Maybe,” he muttered.

  She didn’t want to know what or who he feared might disturb his sleep. If it was his conversation with his dad, he might blame her. If it was thoughts of his late wife or her, both felt equally dangerous.

  She was in the car headed home before she realized, happily, that he had called her babe.

  * * *

  To Meri’s surprise, Sunday felt a little awkward. Maybe it was because she couldn’t forget that Stark had kissed her and later called her babe. Or maybe it was that Stark had never looked so handsome to her. He wore a black suit coat with his dark jeans and a navy string tie with his white shirt. She realized he’d put on a little weight, mostly in the upper chest and shoulders, and he suddenly looked like a powerhouse, standing there under that high-crowned black beaver cowboy hat, all clean shaven and finely turned out. Altogether, he was more than enough to make a girl’s heart go pitter-patter, and she figured hers couldn’t be the only one tripping at double time. She was the only one his warm brown eyes targeted, though, when he stepped into the foyer of the church building that blustery Sunday of Thanksgiving week.

  She’d tried not to be too conspicuous, hanging around and chatting with friends while she’d waited for him to show up. Like him, she’d taken care with her appearance, choosing a long, slim black knit sleeveless dress and a cropped, coral-pink sweater with long sleeves to wear with her best black heels. She’d rolled her hair into a simple but classy bun low on the back of her head, leaving strands to waft about her face, then donned a pair of heavy turquoise earrings and a matching bracelet that she’d inherited from her mom. She’d applied lipstick and even a little mascara.

  Stark made his way through the crowded vestibule straight to her side. He bent and spoke softly into her ear.

  “I think you’re more beautiful every time I see you.”

  She almost kissed him then and there. If someone hadn’t jostled her, murmuring apologies, she might have. Blushing so hotly her face hurt, she said, half-teasingly, “You certainly pick your moments!”

  Glancing around them, he muttered, “A man has to, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  “Do you?” she asked warily, sensing his sudden unease.

  “What?”

  “Know what’s good for you?”

  “I doubt it,” he answered drily. “Frankly, I’ve been trusting you for that.”

  She lifted an eyebrow, hoping no one else was listening to their conversation. “I’m not sure I understand.” Or maybe she did. Maybe he’d counted on her to be the one with good sense. After all, he’d been a married man and now had been alone for a long time, and she’d let him kiss her with apparent eagerness. Her blush deepened.

  “Hanged if I can figure it out,” he muttered, shifting uneasily.

  She resisted the urge to rush away and leave him standing there. “We’d best find our seats.”

  “Lead the way,” he agreed, bending his head and palming the crown of his hat. When he straightened, the hat remained in his hand.

  This time, being forewarned, the family had left adequate space, so Meri couldn’t very well take Stark to a different pew. They sat with everyone else, Wes on one end, Stark on the other. They made a full row of Billings family. And Stark. Greetings rippled down the row, beginning with Dean on Meri’s right.

  “Hey, man.”

  “Hello.”

  “Glad you could come.”

  “Man, you clean up real good.” That was Rex, and Stark rolled his eyes at him.

  Wes said, “Well, we’re all here. That makes it a red-letter day.” As if Stark were a part of the family who had been missing.

  Stark smiled stiffly, nodded, cleared his throat and seemed to have a little trouble settling in. He crossed his legs, uncrossed them, laid his arm along the back of the pew behind Meredith, then abruptly took it down again. He shifted his hat from one hand to the other and finally hung it on the corner of the pew in front of him. She wanted to take his hand or slip her arm through his to reassure him, but that suddenly seemed like a terribly personal display in a very public place, and she didn’t want him to think that she was inviting intimacies he didn’t want or deemed unwise.

  After a moment, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, “I feel like a rooster in a room full of cats.”

  That made Meredith smile. She had to cover her mouth with a hand to curtail the urge to giggle before she could say, “How do you know how a rooster in a room full of cats feels?”

  “I’m an experienced veterinarian,” he said in a soft, droning, deadpan voice. “I know these things in-stinc-tively.”

  The way he said “in-stinc-tively” cracked her up. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, tears filling her eyes, shoulders shaking. Who knew Stark could be so funny? She glanced at him, saw the satisfied little curve of his lips and knew that he’d done it on purpose.

  Dean elbowed her. “What are you two laughing about?”

  Swallowing the mirth, she mastered her other emotions well enough to get out, “Veterinarian joke.”

  “Yeah? Tell.”

  She shook her head but then began to explain. “There’s this rooster named Supper, and when his owner first brought him in, and Stark said his name, I thought—” Stark snickered, and that set her off in sputters so she couldn’t say more. Thankfully, the music started so she had no time to try again.

  Later, she noticed that Stark wasn’t singing. He just stood there with his hands folded, nodding along in time to the music. She went up on tiptoe and said into his ear, “How come you’re not singing? Don’t you know these songs?”

  He bent down and answered, “I know them, but you don’t want me even trying to sing. Trust me. Singing is not my talent.”

  “Can’t be that bad,” she said, looking up at him.

  He bent down again. “Babe, if singing was the only requirement for getting into Heaven, those pearly gates would close right in my face.”

  Babe again. Why did that one little word make her go weak in the knees? This time she curled her arm around his. “When you get there, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

  He said nothing to that, but when they sat down again, he wrapped his hand around the bracelet on her arm and kept it there. She noticed that he paid particular attention
to the sermon, but his hand didn’t leave her arm until they rose again.

  At the end of the service, he took his hat and stepped out into the aisle, seeming quietly thoughtful. People moved past and around him, but he paid no attention. His mind was obviously elsewhere. When Meri laid her hand in the bend of his elbow, he looked around as if he’d forgotten where he was for a moment.

  “You’re welcome to join us for Sunday dinner,” she said.

  “Please do, Stark,” Callie said, appearing at his shoulder. “There’s always plenty.”

  He was already shaking his head, though. “Y’all feed me enough already,” he said, “and I thank you.”

  “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Wes asked, but Stark was firm.

  “No, sir, not this time. Thanks all the same. I’m going to want to talk to you about buying some horses, though, sometime in the next couple weeks, maybe.”

  “Oh? You buying or selling?”

  “Buying. Thinking on it, anyway. Been a long time since I had my own riding stock. No one around here has better horses than Straight Arrow, so I thought you might know where I should start looking.”

  “I’ve got some ideas,” Wes said, obviously pleased.

  “Knew you would.” He looked at Meredith then. “Meri, a word?”

  “Of course.”

  He waved his hat in farewell to the others, and they walked up the aisle side by side, speaking briefly to everyone who spoke to them. In the foyer, he ushered her into a quiet corner.

  “I wanted to tell you that there’s no need for you to come in tomorrow until after your dad’s appointment with Dr. Shorter. I know it’s early, and I know it’s important. I also know that he depends on you to interpret the medical lingo for him.”

  She smiled at his thoughtfulness but said, “I can come in as usual and just meet Dad at Dr. Shorter’s.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “But your breakfast—”

  “I can feed myself,” he interrupted, looking down at the hat in his hands. “You’ve made sure of that. There’s nothing pressing in the morning. I’ve already called and moved everything to the afternoon. So you go with your dad and come in after. That’s an order.”