The Cowboy Meets His Match. Roxann Delaney
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They’d grown up together.
He’d spent summers at his uncle’s ranch, and she and her brothers had become friends with him. He’d been tall and thin, a bit gangly and a little on the quiet side. She’d found a hundred ways to make his life hell because of it, and he’d done the same to her.
But the Jake Canfield standing by her now was far from a thin, quiet boy. The image of him in the pond had been burned into her memory as permanently as another memory of him. If she’d realized it was him she was watching from the tall grass— She shook her head. She should have known, instead of convincing herself she’d dreamed that he’d spoken to her.
“Right, Erin?”
Lost in thought, she glanced up at him. “Hmm?”
“We were just talking about what a scrawny, ornery tomboy you were when we were growing up.”
“No more scrawny than you,” she said, but it lacked the bite it needed. She had to be careful. If she let him, he’d tear her heart out. Again.
The Cowboy
Meets His Match
Roxann Delaney
ROXANN DELANEY doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t reading or writing, and she always loved that touch of romance in both. A native Kansan, she’s lived on a farm, in a small town and has returned to live in the city where she was born. Her four daughters and grandchildren keep her busy when she isn’t writing or designing websites. The 1999 Maggie Award winner is excited to be a part of the Mills & Boon® Cherish™ line and loves to hear from readers. Contact her at [email protected] or visit her website, www.roxanndelaney.com.
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Contents
Stretching out her legs in the tall grass, with her eyes closed and her back against the rough bark of a tree, Erin Walker smiled at the sound of a fish breaking the surface of the water. Content, she pulled in a breath of warm, June afternoon air and started to toe off her boots. But the sound of a second, a third and then a fourth splash followed, all louder and each sounding closer than the one before.
That was no fish.
She sat up straight, her heart rate increasing as she looked out onto Lake Walker, the large pond on the ranch near Desperation, Oklahoma, where she’d grown up. That was when she spotted the naked man, standing not twenty yards away in the pond.
Erin felt an eerie flash of déjà vu but blamed it on the shock of the moment. Surely he hadn’t seen her. If he had, he would have left immediately. Instead, he stood hip deep in the water, his back to her, his arms stretched above his head, flexing muscles that would have caused a half-blind ninety-year-old spinster to suffer a case of the vapors.
If only he’d turn around.
Just as she finished the thought, he started to do exactly that. She quickly but carefully scooted down to lie on the ground, while praying he was too busy enjoying his skinny-dip to notice her. From her prone position, all she could see was the very top of his head—and that was only if she stretched her neck uncomfortably. She was also aware that if she moved, he might notice her. With a silent sigh, she lowered her head, settling in to wait him out.
Closing her eyes so she could concentrate on any sounds, she yawned, her previous late night catching up with her early morning. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of movement in the water. He was leaving. Or maybe coming closer. She couldn’t be certain, but the sound seemed to be getting farther and farther away, until it stopped. Straining to listen for confirmation, she thought she heard the soft whinny of a horse, but she couldn’t be certain.
More time passed, as she waited for some kind of indication that he was no longer in the area. When she heard nothing else, she finally felt relatively safe.
“Did