His Favorite Cowgirl. Leigh Duncan

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СКАЧАТЬ slurred word sparked an image of a teenage girl with a coltish figure. “Kelly?” Hank asked.

      The old man’s blink told Hank he was on the right track. “Don’t worry,” he said, mustering his most reassuring tone. “You just lie still. I’ll make sure someone gets in touch with her.”

      He would do it himself, but he’d long since deleted the number of the woman who had broken his heart. Twelve years later, he wondered if even her grandfather’s fall would be enough to bring Kelly Tompkins home again.

      * * *

      FUELED BY A combination of truck-stop coffee and fear, Kelly Tompkins rounded the corner by the elevators. Nurses in turquoise scrubs and doctors in white coats filled the hall with entirely too much laughter for seven in the morning. Kelly waited until the group disappeared into the hospital cafeteria. Her empty stomach growled, but she headed in the opposite direction. There would be plenty of time to eat, comb her hair or wash up...after. Following the signs for patient rooms, she plunged through a set of swinging doors and stepped into the wing where the receptionist said she’d find her grandfather.

       If he’s lasted through the night.

      The heels of her boots sent sharp echoes bouncing off the bare green walls. An aide in a uniform the color of cotton candy pushed an empty wheelchair past the nurses’ station. At the far end of the hall, cafeteria workers grabbed breakfast trays from a tall cart. A strong antiseptic odor mingled with the scent of powdered eggs and burned coffee. Kelly pinched her nose, shutting out the acrid smells.

      One hundred ten...one hundred fourteen...one hundred twenty. The door to room one twenty-two was closed, and she froze, suddenly uncertain if she dared go inside despite all it had taken to get there. What if, a dozen years after he’d thrown her out of his house, her grandfather still refused to see her? Or worse, what if she was too late? What if he’d taken his last breath while she was cutting across Louisiana? What if his heart had stopped beating when she’d pulled over for coffee outside of Gainesville?

      Her hand shook so hard it rattled the door handle, but there was nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. She squared her shoulders, eased the door open and stepped into Paul Tompkins’s hospital room.

      Crisp white linens covered the empty bed. Folds at the corners of the mattress formed razor-sharp edges. Smooth, white, untouched, a pillow sat at the head of the bed. Movement on the nightstand beside it caught her eye. An ache swelled in her chest as she watched a drip of condensation roll down the side of a water pitcher. Kelly’s breath stalled.

       Was he...gone?

      Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away the same way she had brushed aside the sudden realization of how much she’d wanted this chance to finally make peace with the man who’d raised her. The man who’d kicked her off his ranch. The man who’d accused her of betraying the family name, and all because she’d had the bad fortune of falling in love with the boy next door.

      Her grandfather hadn’t spoken to her since. She wasn’t sure if he knew or even cared that she’d broken things off with Hank Judd a month before graduation. That she’d parlayed an entry-level sales position into a desk in the corporate headquarters of Palmetto Boots, the largest family-owned boot company in America. She wondered if he’d think twice about the fact that she’d dropped everything, put her career at risk, to jump in the car and drive through the night to get to his side.

       Had she missed her chance?

      A sob lodged in her throat. She swallowed and tore her gaze away from the empty bed. Praying for some sign she was wrong, she scanned past a wide window and over the sleeping figure seated in a chair by the door. Her inspection stuttered and backtracked to a pair of worn boots. A shiver started at the nape of her neck and swept down her spine.

      She skimmed slowly upward, over denim-clad legs to thighs that maintained their muscular shape even in repose. Her breathing slowed as she scrutinized a familiar chiseled jaw, the stubbled cheeks she’d once cupped in her fingers. The brim of a sweat-stained Stetson cast shadows across his eyes, and she expelled her breath, thankful she hadn’t come face-to-face with one of her grandfather’s sworn enemies—not to mention the man who’d betrayed her trust.

      From the hall came the sound of muted voices. A cart rolled past the door, its wheels squeaking. The noise drifted into the room, where it disturbed Hank’s slumber. His hat tipped back as he yawned, stretched and opened eyes that had always reminded her of clear blue water. For half a second, a lazy smile graced the lips she’d once loved to kiss. Then, awareness swam into his focus, and his lips straightened. The warm aqua eyes turned an icy blue.

      “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

      Ignoring her question, Hank uncrossed his ankles, leaned forward. His hands found his knees and he stood. “I see you finally made it.”

      The harsh tone hurt more than she’d thought it would, given the time and distance that had stretched between them. She hid her pain behind a cold glare. “Don’t start with me, Hank. I’ve been driving all night.”

      Had the harsh brackets around his mouth softened ever so slightly? She peered up at him. Despite her own five feet, ten inches, he towered over her. There’d been a time when she thought his shoulders were wide enough to support the weight of the world. In truth, they hadn’t been strong enough to bear the burden of the secret they’d shared.

      “It didn’t seem right leaving him alone all night, so I stayed.” He mopped his face with one hand. “Must’a nodded off for a bit.”

      “You’re the one who found him, then?” Her gaze drifted down. The wiry chest she’d once laid her head against had widened considerably. So much so that she struggled to remind herself he wasn’t the only one who’d changed since the last time they’d seen each other.

      “Yeah. He must’a took a spill off his horse.” His voice softening, Hank swept his hat from his head and ran a hand through hair that no longer brushed the back of his collar the way it had when they were in high school. “No tellin’ how long he’d been lying there, or how long he would have, if I hadn’t come by when I did.”

      “Is he—” she glanced fearfully at the bed “—is he gone?”

      “Afraid so.” Hank’s voice softened. “They came for him about an hour ago.”

      She was too late. Too late to heal the breach. Too late to say goodbye. The room spun, and she swayed while eighteen long hours behind the wheel caught up with her. An inky blackness blotted her vision.

      She blinked hard.

      Hank’s arms wrapped around her, lending her his strength, his support. She laid her head against his broad chest, automatically seeking the firm plane over his heart.

      “Hey,” he whispered. “Steady now.”

      * * *

      NOT QUITE CERTAIN how he’d gone from sparring with the woman who’d stomped his heart flat as a dried out cow patty to hanging on to her lest she collapse into a puddle on the floor, Hank sank his chin into Kelly’s silky hair. He wrapped his arms around her, wondering at the narrowness of her frame, the slight indentation between her shoulder blades. She trembled, and he rubbed her back, murmured soothing words. He drank in the fragrance of lilac, which carried him back to the feel of straw and of Kelly beneath him as they made love in the Circle P’s СКАЧАТЬ