Cowboy Under Fire. Carla Cassidy
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on an inward dare to himself, he stood and held out his hand to her. “A barn dance really isn’t complete unless you actually dance.”
“Oh, I don’t know how to dance,” she replied and shrank back against the chair.
“It’s easy, just follow my lead.”
“I’m not used to following anyone’s lead,” she said with a tiny edge to her voice.
“Jeez, Patience, it’s just a simple dance, not a lifetime commitment,” he replied.
She hesitated a moment and then set her beer bottle down on the ground. She stood, her body straight and rigid, as if she were being forced to walk a plank to her death.
He took her in his arms, keeping a healthy couple of inches between their bodies. Her hands automatically landed on his upper arms, reminding him of how tiny she was and that reaching up to his shoulders would be a real stretch for her.
“Just relax,” he murmured.
She looked up at him. “Easy for you to say.”
He laughed and moved his feet in an easy two-step and was pleased to discover that she was a quick study. Within moments she did begin to relax.
The floral scent was more prevalent as he fought the desire to pull her even closer. He knew that if he did, she’d make a hasty retreat back into her room and he wasn’t ready for the time with her to end.
It didn’t matter what he wanted. The minute the song stopped, she stepped away from him and her body displayed the posture of a deer about to bolt. “I’ve got to get to bed,” she said as she backed up to her door. “This has been pleasant, but it’s not something we’re going to repeat. I’m here to work and that’s all I really care about.”
Before Forest could say anything, she disappeared into her room and shut the door after her. Disappointed, he returned to his chair and sank back down, replaying each and every moment of their time together.
He’d half hoped that he’d find her to be as disagreeable as everyone else had deemed her. He’d almost wanted to believe her to be the dragon lady to stanch the inexplicable draw he had to her.
But that hadn’t happened. Instead he was more interested in her than he’d been before. His attraction to her was visceral. Perhaps it was just a matter of him suffering a burst of too much testosterone. Maybe he needed to go lift a tree trunk or carry a cow over his shoulders for a couple of miles, he thought wryly.
He unscrewed a fresh beer and looked up at the cloudless starlit sky. No amount of physical activity would relieve the touch of lust that coupled with his desire to get beneath what he suspected was a shell she presented to the world to keep people away.
Forest knew why most of the cowboys working the ranch had trust issues and he had a feeling Dr. Patience Forbes might suffer some trust issues of her own.
Time would tell if she’d be here long enough, if he could get close enough to discover what had made her into the woman she’d become.
All he knew was that as they’d danced and she’d relaxed into him just a bit, she’d touched him in a way nobody but Cass Holiday had when she’d taken him in as a sixteen-year-old runaway who had lost everything. Something about Patience stroked his heart.
Cass was gone now, but Patience was here, and tonight had just whetted his appetite to get closer to her. Although she wasn’t a horse, he wondered if he had the magic it might take to allow her to trust him enough to let him get closer to her.
Patience woke up in a foul mood, and the name of it was Forest Stevens. He’d drawn her out of her comfort zone the night before, enticed her to spend time with him and get to know him a little better.
He’d invaded her dreams with his soft smile and the whole thoughtful setup of a pretend barn dance right outside her door. She’d dreamed of dancing with him closer, more intimately. His strong arms wrapped tight around her, his size making her feel like a tiny dancer in a music box...protected and cherished.
“Foolishness,” she said aloud as she dressed for the day. She’d allowed herself to be pulled into his world for a brief moment, a place where she didn’t belong, a place she didn’t want to belong.
At least the hot dogs had been wonderful, and if she looked deep inside herself she’d admit that the company had been pleasant enough. Forest Stevens was definitely eye candy with substance.
But acknowledging that didn’t change her mood or the fact that she needed to keep her distance from Forest...from everyone and everything except the bones that still awaited her particular expertise.
She left her room, not worried about running into Forest or any of the other cowboys. They would already be up and out, riding the range or doing whatever cowboys did to pass the long days.
Her back stiffened as she drew near the corral and saw Forest inside the wooden enclosure with the horse. He saw her and waved, but she ducked her head and hurried on to the sanctuary of her tent.
She sneaked out only to knock on the trailer door to let Devon know it was time to get to work. He never entered the tent until he knew she was on site. She didn’t permit anyone inside unless she was present. She quickly returned to the tent without another glance at the corral.
She didn’t even get completely inside the tent when shock stopped her in her tracks. The skeleton they’d completed putting together was gone from the stainless-steel table, as was the second skeleton that had nearly been completed.
For a moment her brain couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. Somebody had been inside the tent overnight, somebody who had removed the bones she and Devon had worked so hard to connect into a human form.
Shock turned to outrage. Sensing Devon standing just behind her, she whirled around to face him. “What happened to the skeletons?”
He looked at her blankly. “What are you talking about?”
“The bones, the skeletons we had on the tables are gone.” She was aware of her voice rising not only an octave, but also in volume. “They didn’t just get up and walk out of here on their own. Somebody came in here and took them.”
Devon backed up several steps and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Dillon.”
Devon called Chief Bowie, and Patience paced outside the tent entrance, still stunned by her discovery. She knew better than to enter what now might be a fresh crime scene.
“Dillon said he’ll be right here,” Devon said as he repocketed his phone. Devon appeared as bewildered and shocked as she felt.
“Who would have done such a thing?” she exclaimed. “And where was the officer who was supposed to be on duty?” Devon shrugged.
She frowned as Forest approached, apparently either seeing her agitated state or hearing her outraged voice. The last thing she needed right now was for the originator of her initial foul mood to interact with her. She already felt as if she was going crazy.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he drew closer. He brought with him the scents of leather and sunshine and a faint tinge of soap and fresh-scented cologne.
“My skeletons are missing and it’s all your fault,” she said angrily.
“My fault?” He raised a dark brow in apparent confusion.
“You distracted me last night with your barn dance. You...you made me not think about the bones and my work here.” In the back of her head she knew she was being completely irrational, but she was angry and confused and he was the nearest target.
She couldn’t very well yell at Devon. She had to work closely with him for who knew how long. Besides, he got the sharp end of her tongue on most days.
“And if I hadn’t