A Cowboy's Duty. Marin Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ to visit between rodeos. Cowboys tried at everything but usually came up short—at least the ones she’d lived with all her life. Gavin was a different breed—a soldier cowboy. She had no experience with soldiers, but she didn’t need a high IQ to understand that to be successful in the military a soldier had to be dependable, courageous, loyal and unselfish. The unselfish trait worried Dixie—she didn’t want or expect Gavin to change his future plans for her or the baby.

      “Why are you shaking your head?” Porter asked.

      “I was thinking about how to convince Susie to increase her inventory of my soaps.” Another fib. They sure slid off her tongue easily these days.

      “Don’t know why you’re gung ho on selling soap.” Porter pointed to her stomach. “When you marry the father, you won’t have time to make soap.”

      Not if Dixie could help it. She tried to summon a smidgeon of anger toward Gavin. For what—being handsome? Charming? Behaving like a gentleman? Shoot, he hadn’t forced her to get into his truck and drive off with him. No one had put a gun to her head and insisted she shuck her clothes at the Shady Rest Motel. She was the sole proprietor of the mess she was in.

      Regardless, she wanted nothing to do with marrying a martyr. The fact that Gavin had apologized profusely after they’d made love was proof he’d regretted the act. Why suffer through the pomp and circumstance of a wedding ceremony when a few months down the road they’d end up divorced—a divorce she’d have to file for because Gavin was too principled to initiate the split.

      “Look out!”

      Dixie slammed on the brakes. If not for Porter’s warning she’d have blown through the four-way stop on the outskirts of Yuma.

      “Didn’t realize being pregnant impaired a woman’s driving.”

      “Ha. Ha.” Dixie drove six more miles, then swung into the Desert Lanes Bowling Alley. “I’ll text you when I leave Susie’s,” she said.

      “Take your time.” Porter nodded to a bright yellow Mustang parked near the entrance. “Hailey’s working. She lets me bowl for free.”

      If only Dixie had her brother’s charisma she might have talked the online marketing company into setting up her business website for free. When she reached Yuma’s historic Main Street, she parked in the lot behind Susie’s Souvenirs.

      “Susie? It’s Dixie,” she hollered, stepping into the shop.

      “Be right down!” Sandals clacked against the stairs that led to an apartment above the store. Susie greeted Dixie with a smile. “You look good.”

      “I do?”

      The older woman moved closer and studied Dixie’s face. “Your skin is glowing.” Susie dropped her gaze to the wicker basket in Dixie’s hand. “Which one made your complexion so radiant?”

      She’d used the same olive soap this morning that she’d washed with the past three years and until today no one had ever used the word radiant to describe her.

      It’s because you’re pregnant.

      Dixie set the basket on the counter and selected the organic peppermint soap. “This is what I’m using.” She held the bar beneath Susie’s nose.

      “That smells amazing. What’s in it?”

      “Sunflower, palm, coconut and peppermint oils.” Along with wheat and barley grass, alfalfa, parsley and grapefruit-seed extract. “I also brought along a Christmas soap I’m experimenting with.” Dixie handed Susie a star-shaped bar.

      “How pretty. I love the threads of red and green that run through the soap.” She sniffed. “Pine boughs, fresh fruit and spices. Very nice.”

      “I was hoping you’d consider using a display instead of leaving the soaps next to the register.”

      “I won’t know if I have room for a stand until I finish stocking the Christmas merchandise,” Susie hedged.

      Dixie’s soaps were available in other stores along Main Street, but Susie’s Souvenirs was the most popular tourist shop in Yuma and Dixie made more money here than the other places combined. “Can you find room if I pay you a fifteen-percent commission instead of the usual ten?”

      “What else did you bring?” Susie peered inside the basket.

      “Eucalyptus and spearmint.” Dixie lined up the soaps on the counter. “Lemongrass. Desert Sage. Oats and Spices.” Each bar was a unique shape wrapped in colored tissue paper and a frilly ribbon with a hand-stamped label—Dixie’s Desert Delights, Inc. $6.99.

      “I’ll find room for a display.”

      “Thanks, Susie. I put extra business cards at the bottom of the basket.”

      “I’ll give you a jingle when inventory gets low.”

      Dixie could only hope she’d sell all forty bars before Christmas.

      * * *

      WHERE THE HELL WAS HE?

      Gavin stood in the dark shivering. He knew he was in the desert, because coarse grains of sand pricked his feet. But where in the desert? And what had happened to his weapons? He wore nothing but his sweat-soaked fatigues. The booming sound of a rocket-propelled grenade sent him running, his lungs burning with each gasp of air.

      The target exploded in the distance and streaks of bright light lit up the night sky.

      Nate! Nate, where are you?

      Gavin glanced over his shoulder and a second explosion illuminated the darkness. In that instant of clarity Gavin spotted Nate a hundred yards behind him.

      Run, Nate! Catch up!

      Something wasn’t right—Nate wasn’t moving. Gavin turned back, determined to reach his friend, but with each step, his feet sank deeper into the ground as if the desert had turned into an ocean of quicksand.

      Nate reached out his hand for help and time passed at a crawl as Gavin pressed forward, muscles burning, sweat stinging his eyes. Fifty yards from Nate another explosion rent the air and suddenly half of Nate disappeared. Gavin stared in horror. Where were Nate’s legs?

      A thud hit the ground by Gavin’s combat boot. He looked down. Half buried in the sand was Nate’s leg.

      Gavin woke with a start and bolted from the motel bed. He stumbled into the bathroom, ran the cold tap and splashed his face, choking on the water that hit the back of his throat.

      Damn it.

      He lowered the toilet cover and sat with his head in his hands. He hadn’t had a nightmare like this in weeks. Why now?

      Maybe he was pushing himself too hard.

      Or maybe you’re not pushing yourself hard enough.

      Whatever the reasons behind his recurring nightmares, as long as Gavin ignored them they’d eventually go away.

      * * *

      “ANOTHER СКАЧАТЬ