Her Rugged Rancher. Stella Bagwell
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Bella couldn’t go on to explain that being around Curtis had never filled her head with erotic images. She’d never pictured herself making wild, passionate love to the man, the way she had with Noah. But those secret fantasies were far too intimate to share with this man.
Shaking his head, he glanced toward Casper, and Bella followed the direction of his attention. Thankfully the horse had been trained not to run away. At the moment he was happily tearing at the tufts of grass growing in scattered patches over the rocky ground.
“Forget I mentioned anything about the man,” Noah muttered gruffly. “Who you have your eye set on is none of my business. Unless you try to make me your target. So before you make your play, you need to know that I’m not about to let anything develop between us. Not now. Not ever.”
Bella proudly lifted her chin. “Then why did you kiss me?”
“That was my way of explaining the situation.”
She refrained from rolling her eyes toward the treetops. “It sure didn’t feel like a demonstration, explanation, or anything of the sort. It felt like an old-fashioned kiss—the kind two people with mutual attraction share. And if you could be totally honest with me, you’d admit that you want to do it again. I do.”
His jaws clamped so tight Bella figured his back teeth were probably in danger of crumbling beneath the pressure.
Turning his gaze back to her, he said, “Bella, I’m sorry, but I don’t have the luxury of playing games with the opposite sex. Especially when the games could become dangerous.”
“I would’ve never guessed you could be such an ass, Noah Crawford,” she said in a low, angry voice. “But I should’ve known. It’s no wonder you live such a solitary life. There’s no one around here worthy of your presence!”
With tears threatening to fall, she hurried over to Casper and swung herself into the saddle. Yet before she could kick the horse into a gallop, Noah was there, reaching up and dragging her out of the saddle.
Bella practically fell into his arms and she was forced to grab hold of his shoulders to keep from sliding down the front of his body.
She gasped with shock. “Noah! What—are you—doing?”
“I’m doing what both of us want!”
The words came out on a fierce growl and then he was kissing her again. Only this time the meeting of their mouths instantly turned into a frenetic search that lasted so long Bella was certain she was going to faint.
The rushing noise in her ears grew so loud she couldn’t hear the wind or the birds or even the moans in her own throat. Then, just as her knees were about to buckle, he lifted his head, allowing her to suck in a reviving breath of oxygen. Yet before she could gather herself completely, he stepped back, removing the anchoring support of his shoulders.
Forced to grab on to the fender of Casper’s saddle to keep from falling, she stared in shocked wonder at him.
“Noah, I—”
“Don’t say anything else, Bella,” he said in a husky growl. “Just go home. Before I say to hell with everything and carry you inside the cabin.”
Shaking almost violently now, she followed his order and quickly swung herself onto Casper’s back. The horse instantly sensed her turmoil and began to dance and shake his head against the bit. Without sparing a glance at Noah, she urged the animal into a gallop and didn’t ease the pace until she was long gone from the cowboy’s view.
Three days later on a late Wednesday evening, Noah was in the barn, taking an inventory of the ranch’s saddles and tack when a footstep behind him had him glancing over his shoulder.
The instant he spotted Jett striding toward him, he inwardly winced. This was the first time this week that he’d seen his boss. Any information they’d needed to share about ranch work had been done over the phone and Noah had been hoping by the time he faced Jett again, he would’ve forgotten all about his afternoon with Bella.
But so far Noah had found it impossible to get Bella, or the kisses they’d shared, out of his mind. From the moment she’d galloped Casper away from the cabin, his thoughts had been obsessed with the woman. Now he didn’t know what to do to shake the misery he was carrying around inside him.
“Hey, Noah. I saw your truck and wondered what you were still doing here. It’s getting late.”
The tall, dark-haired man dressed in worn jeans, cowboy boots and a gray battered hat looked nothing like a lawyer, but Jett Sundell was a damned good one and an equally good rancher. Along with those attributes, he was a devoted husband and father and one of the best friends Noah had.
“Hello, Jett.” He gestured toward a group of saddles the men used on a daily basis. “I was just going over our saddles. I’m afraid Reggie broke the tree in his today. He roped a bull and it jerked him and his horse over. The horn was literally buried in the ground. Now the whole damned thing is wiggling.”
A look of concern crossed Jett’s face. “Don’t worry about replacing the saddle. I want to know about Reggie and the horse.”
“They were lucky. I don’t know how, but both came out of the spill unscathed. Reg got a lot of ribbing from the men, but he took it all with a laugh. I called Denver over at the Silver Horn to see if they had any used saddles for sale. He tells me they have a few. Most are pretty worn, but at least it would be a hell of a lot better than spending a couple of thousand for a new one.”
Jett nodded. “I’ll be working the Horn tomorrow. While I’m there I’ll have a look at them. Rafe has all the using saddles for his men handmade, so whatever they have for sale will be good ones.” He walked over and took a seat on an overturned feed bucket. “Sassy’s been trying to locate some hay. I realize it’s only the first part of May and we should have grass for a while, but what with the drought, she’s concerned that by the time winter rolls around hay will be as scarce as hen’s teeth. The alfalfa crops over in Churchill County are already sold and they’re not even ready to cut yet.”
“She’s probably right. I figure the sooner we fill the barns, the better,” Noah agreed.
Bending forward, Jett rested his forearms against his knees and looked over at Noah. “She found some timothy for sale, but the stuff is way up in Idaho and baled from last year’s crop. I told her to keep searching. I don’t want the cost of shipping that far. Especially when it’s not fresh-cut.”
“Don’t worry,” Noah told him. “It’s early yet. Has she talked to Finn? The last I heard, her brother had his hay meadows producing. If he has surplus, he might sell what he doesn’t need.”
“You’re right. I’ll talk to Sassy about it tonight.” Chuckling, he added, “That is, we’ll talk after bath time, story reading and rocking Mason to sleep.”
Of Jett and Sassy’s three children, Mason was the baby of the bunch, born just before Thanksgiving last year. Noah was very fond of all three kids, but he couldn’t deny he was particularly attached to little Mason. The dark-haired baby rarely uttered a cry and whenever he saw Noah, he always reached for him.
Mason would probably be the closest thing he ever had to having a son. The hollow thought had Noah moving restlessly over to a wall where a slew of bridles neatly hung on rows of nails. Automatically, he picked up a shiny pair of bits and worked the moving parts back and forth.
“You didn’t see Bella around this afternoon, did you?” Jett asked.
Just hearing her name was like a punch in the gut and for a moment he gripped the bit so hard he very nearly bent the silver shank. “No. Why?”
“Just wondering,” Jett replied. “She wrapped up her work early this afternoon and said she was coming