Her Cowboy Dilemma. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ up her two-month-old daughter from the playpen. “Look who’s here, Steph. It’s your auntie Cassidy.”

      Cassidy was already holding out her arms for the bundle. “I hope she isn’t making shy yet.”

      “Oh, she’s still too young for that. Besides, she’s getting used to new faces. We just got back to work last week and I swear our business has tripled. It seems everyone in the area is finding an excuse to drop in for a coffee and to say hello to the newest Lambert.”

      Cassidy listened to all of this with a smile, at the same time noticing how happy her sister-in-law appeared. Pretty, too. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but it seemed thicker and glossier than ever. And her fair skin was literally glowing.

      Laurel deposited a kiss on Cassidy’s cheek as she handed over her daughter, who had gained several pounds since Cassidy had seen her last.

      “Oh, you’re so cute! Look—she has Corb’s dimple.”

      “I know. Isn’t it adorable? And only on the left cheek, just like her dad.”

      Cassidy sighed as Stephanie cuddled in, soaking up the smooches that her aunt couldn’t resist planting on her downy soft head. Her wispy hair was coming in orange. And curly.

      “How are you doing, precious? Do you like working with your mommy in the café?”

      The baby looked up at the sound of Cassidy’s voice, and Cassidy was amused to see that she had the Lambert green eyes, as well. Stephanie was staring at her intently, and only when she raised her little hand, awkwardly reaching up, did Cassidy realize she was entranced by the sunglasses that were still resting on her head.

      “She’s just started noticing her hands a few weeks ago,” Laurel commented. “Sometimes she stares at them for minutes at a time. It’s so cute. But here I am, talking endlessly about my wonderful baby, again.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “What’s new with you? How were your final exams?”

      “They went well, I think. I won’t have my marks for a few weeks.”

      “Can I get you a coffee and a cinnamon bun for the road?”

      Hearing the door open behind her, Cassidy moved out of the way so the newcomer could enter. “You read my mind, thanks.”

      “Make that a double order, Winnie,” said a deep voice behind her. “And leave some space for cream in the coffee.”

      Cassidy knew that voice. Slowly she turned, holding Stephanie like a shield between her and the tall, broad-shouldered man who’d just entered the café.

      Sure enough, there stood Dan Farley. The local vet had some Native American blood, which accounted for his high cheekbones, jet-black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes. Though he’d spoken to Winnie, it was Cassidy he was looking at, with cool dislike.

      “Hey, Farley.” Darn her voice for coming out so soft and weak. She lifted her chin. “How are things?”

      “Busy.”

      He knew she’d been going to college in Bozeman, and must have noticed the suitcases and boxes in the back of her truck, but he didn’t ask about her studies or show any interest in whether or not she was moving back to Coffee Creek. Stepping past her as if she were nothing more than an inanimate obstacle, he made his way to the counter, where he pulled out his wallet.

      Heck and darn, but the man had a way about him. Cassidy glanced at the two women at the back to see if they felt it, too. Sure enough they both had their eyes on Coffee Creek’s sexy vet. One of them pretended to fan her face with her hand. The other laughed and winked at Cassidy.

      Cassidy didn’t wink back.

      He wasn’t that good-looking.

      She gave him another glance, seeing only his profile and long, muscular build.

      Okay, maybe he was that good-looking.

      Still, he probably hated her and she had only herself to blame.

      Winnie set two coffees in to-go cups on the counter, then bagged them each one of the homemade cinnamon buns baked fresh every day by ex-bronc rider Vince Butterfield. A veteran of the rodeo circuit and a member of the Cowboy Hall of Fame, Vince had licked a lifelong dependence on alcohol and in his sixties had begun a new career as a baker. His mother’s old recipe for melt-in-your-mouth sticky buns, thickly topped with frosting, was his new claim to fame.

      Five minutes ago, Cassidy had been craving one of them desperately. Now her stomach churned at the thought. What were the chances that she and Farley would happen into the café at the same time? Pretty darn slim. So slim, in fact, that she hadn’t run across him here once in the past four years.

      Other than at the church last July, she hadn’t seen him anywhere else, either.

      If he was called out to the ranch when she happened to be home, she always made herself scarce. She’d avoided him at the funeral. If his name came up in conversation with her brothers, she tried not to listen.

      And now here he stood, just a few feet away. Making it very hard not to remember... But no. She would not think back to that night. She couldn’t bear it.

      “So where are you off to now, Farley?” Laurel asked, her tone friendly. Everyone in the Coffee Creek area called the vet by his last name. Probably to avoid confusion with his father, also named Dan, whom he’d worked with before the elder Farley and his wife had retired to Arizona.

      Farley glanced briefly at Cassidy again, before answering. “Coffee Creek Ranch.”

      Though there were plenty of reasons why the vet might have been called out to her family’s ranch, Cassidy’s first thought was for Sky. At fourteen years of age, every day was a blessing. “What’s wrong?”

      “Your mother’s young palomino is sick. Sounds serious.”

      “Lucky Lucy? Oh, no.” She was glad Sky was okay, but this news was almost as bad. Her mother had bought the beautiful three-year-old palomino just this year and Cassidy loved her. Lucy had a wild heart but a gentle soul. Though she was her mother’s horse, Cassidy had felt a special connection with the mare from the first time she’d ridden her.

      “Any idea what the problem is?”

      “From the symptoms Jackson described, sounds like strangles.”

      “Really?” In all of her twenty-five years they’d never had a case of strangles on the ranch. She didn’t even know that much about it, other than it was a highly contagious, serious infection of the nose and lymph nodes.

      “I’ll have to examine the horse and run some tests to be sure.” He added a generous amount of cream to his coffee, fitted the cup with a lid, then grabbed one of the bagged cinnamon buns. “See you later, Laurel. And thanks.”

      No word to Cassidy, whose ranch he was heading for. She might as well be an empty bar stool for all the attention he’d paid to her. Wordless herself, she watched as a half-dozen long strides took him out the door.

      The café fell silent then, and Cassidy realized that Laurel was looking at her, eyebrows raised.

      “What’s СКАЧАТЬ