Loving That Cowboy Read online

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Why not give it a go now?” Her father dropped a kiss on her cheek. She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “You obviously have a horse in mind. Which one is it?”

  Before her father could tell her, her mother hollered at her from the house.

  “Patti, phone. It’s that guy from Calgary. Come quick.”

  * * *

  Cameron wasn’t sure what he’d expected his first sight of England to be, but so much greenery wasn’t it.

  He peered out of the cabin window at hedgerows and trees that separated one field from another. Urban sprawl encroached into the countryside making the whole look like a patchwork quilt. A network of narrow roads crowded with ribbons of traffic tied this small country together and in no time at all he became part of that parcel.

  Cab drivers at the airport had looked at the address he’d showed them on his phone’s contact list and shook their heads. It was either unknown to them or too far for them to go. Then he found a cab willing to take him, at a price.

  “’Course I take Visa,” the driver assured him. “Just ‘ave to let my dispatcher know where I’m off to. Doncha worry, Sunshine, I’ll get ya there.”

  Once his driver had radioed the dispatcher with his destination, Cameron settled himself in the soft leather seat and stretched his legs. Not used to being driven and being on the other side of the road at that, all took its toll on him. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but determined to give a visitor to his country the benefit of his knowledge, the driver kept up a running commentary advising him to look at this or watch out for that.

  The look of the countryside through which they passed changed. At first only a subtle shift, it then became more definite with open green spaces dotted with farms and cottages and much more tree cover than he’d expected. They skirted a small town, the houses stone-built and huddled together, dominated by a square church tower.

  “Cirencester parish church,” his ever watchful guide announced. “The Romans settled here first and called it Corinium.”

  “You seem to know a lot,” Cameron commented.

  “Used to drive buses,” the driver explained. “Been a few years since I last run this route, but I ‘aven’t forgotten my stops.” He checked his GPS. “Not long now, mate.”

  Cameron rubbed a hand along his jaw, feeling the scrub of overnight stubble. He wished now he’d at least stopped for a shave. His stomach knotted and all the thoughts he’d been trying to keep out of his head crowded back in. He desperately hoped Trisha would be at home. If she was already off on another assignment, his trip would have been wasted.

  “We’re here, guv,” the driver announced. “Somerville Court.”

  Pulling himself out of his dark thoughts, Cameron’s eyes widened at the sight of the tall, wrought iron gates through which they passed, the gravelled forecourt beyond it and the graceful outline of the house overlooking it.

  “Is this a mansion?” he asked, trying to take in the sweeping elegance of it.

  “Close enough.” The driver pulled up beneath a covered entrance way and Cameron unfolded himself from the back seat.

  The supreme confidence that bolstered him while he waited for his steer to break out of the chute at the Stampede now fled, leaving him disoriented and jittery. Having arrived on Trisha’s doorstep he felt all kinds of a fool. He turned to the cabby.

  “I’m not sure how long I’m going to be,” he said hesitantly. “Could you wait up somewhere?”

  “Passed a pub a bit back, call me when you’re ready.” Cameron took the business card the driver handed him, and in return offered a couple of folded bills. The driver took them, looked at them and handed one back. “Thanks, guv, but I’m not out to fleece ‘ya.”

  With a wink and a wave, he drove away leaving Cameron staring at a solid, iron studded oak door. Before he could step up and lift the ornate knocker, the door opened and there stood Trisha.

  The dark crescents under her eyes told him she hadn’t been sleeping well. Their bluish tinge made her face seem paler than he remembered it, but he hadn’t forgotten the depth in her lovely green eyes. It wasn’t the expression of surprise he saw in them that stunned him, but the toddler slung across her hip. His jaw tightened and he jerked his head in the child’s direction.

  “Was that something you ever intended telling me about?”

  He watched her throat work as she swallowed and although she opened her mouth a couple of times it was several moments before any sound emerged.

  “He’s not—”

  “Hers, he’s mine,” chirped in another girl as she emerged from behind the door. She plucked the little boy from Trisha’s hip while she looked Cameron up and down. “His name is Sam, I’m Camille Langdon and you’re gorgeous. God, Patti, if you don’t snap him up I will.”

  “You can’t, you’re already married,” Trisha mumbled. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off Cameron.

  A brown and white spaniel bolted from the interior of the house and squirmed in front him, shining dark eyes pleading for attention.

  “Who let the damn dog out?” yelled an unseen male. “She’s in heat, blast it.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” Another figure came out from the doorway, an older woman this time and surely Trisha’s mother from the similarity he saw between them. She had a leash in her hand and quickly captured the dog. Cameron stepped back, trying to catch his breath and sort out who was who in this chaotic pack of people.

  At last Trisha, or Patti, he wasn’t sure what to call her, took pity on him. A shy smile played over her lips and she came towards him.

  “I can explain,” he said quietly. His heart bumped painfully under his ribs.

  “I’m sure you can,” she replied. She stood in front him now, a hint of amusement glinting in her green eyes. “But first I think you should kiss me.”

  “Here?” Cameron almost choked as he cast a glance at the women standing behind her.

  “Here,” she insisted and added in a wickedly sexy whisper, “if you love me.”

  For a moment Cameron didn’t think he could have heard her correctly. Love her? Lord help him that was all he wanted to do. He placed his hands on her waist and drew her to him. His mouth dried at the thought of the soft curves beneath the ‘I Love My Thoroughbred’ logo on her stained white tee-shirt. He slipped one hand behind her back and spread his fingers across her spine. Her leg settled against his as she nestled closer to him.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this in front of your mother,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her.

  She tasted as sweet as he remembered and when her arms reached up and around his neck he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up. She broke the kiss with a smile on her lips murmuring something about introductions.

  His dreamlike state remained as he shook hands with her mother, Susan; took more teasing from Camille Langdon and exchanged a sticky high five with Sam. Finally he came face to face with her father Jeffrey. Tall and slim with tousled dark hair showing a hint of silver at the temples, he had the look of a much younger man but the calculating expression in his eyes as his glance slid over Cameron indicated a world of maturity.

  “So you’re the cause of my daughter arriving home looking like a train wreck,” he said as he held out his hand.

  Cameron felt the blush start on his neck as he shook hands. “That was not my intention, sir.”

  “Sir?” Jeffrey Somerville raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I like you already. Come on in.”

  Later, when he’d been allocated a guest room and provided with a pile of fluffy towels worthy of a five-star hotel, Cameron remembered to call his cab driver.

  “I’m staying here a few days from the look of it,” he said into the phone.

  “Okay, guv. Best of luck to you and,” a throaty chuckle filtered into Cameron’s ear, “I ‘ope the lady’s wor
th it.”

  Cameron didn’t waste time on wondering how the driver had known, but he had to say the lady certainly was worth it. He’d hardly been able to take his eyes off her all through dinner when more people appeared to take their places at the table.

  With himself, Trisha and her parents, Camille, her husband Martin and son, Sam, there were in addition five more guests. Trisha introduced them all but he immediately forgot their names. What he didn’t forget was the fact that they were all here in residence to train with Jeffrey Somerville.

  He’d been shown the barns and stabling area, the indoor and outdoor riding arenas, a media room where students studied video recordings of themselves and others. He’d seen the impressive website that Trisha had built advertising her father’s talents and the horses they had for sale. Susan Somerville had been delighted to show off her two thoroughbred stallions and Delacourt’s dam, the grey mare Delia’s Delight, reminded him of his own Rosie. As he toured the property with Trisha’s father he made mental notes on how to improve his own operation.

  When the table had been cleared and the guests dispersed, Cameron found himself at last alone with Trisha.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested as she took hold of his hand.

  “Walk?” He couldn’t keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

  “Sweetheart, you’re in England now. It’s what we do.” Trisha laughed at him but it was an easy, loving laugh that wrapped around his heart and warmed his soul.

  They left the house and grounds and Trisha took him into the fields surrounding it, pointing out parts of the cross-country course her father had designed and constructed and what difficulties each element presented. They walked along ancient cattle paths below the lip of the hill until they came to a point where he could see, between the slopes of the darkening hills, the shimmer of water in the distance.

  “That’s the River Severn,” Trisha said. “It flows out into the Bristol Channel and then the Irish Sea. That’s South Wales beyond the river and—”

  He stopped her with a kiss, claiming her mouth before she could catch her breath. She melted in to him and still kissing her, he tumbled her gently back into the grass. He pushed her hair back from her face and gently traced the line of her scar. She didn’t stop him.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” He kissed her neck.

  “Probably as much as I love you.” She shivered as his breath feathered across the sensitive skin of her throat.

  He slipped his hand under the hem of her tee-shirt, but she caught it and held it close against her skin.

  “You were going to explain something to me,” she reminded him as she scooted up into a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  “Having met your folks and seen your home, I think you’ve some explaining of your own to do. Trisha Watts, photographer, didn’t tell me half of it.” He hauled himself up beside her and wrapped his arms round her.

  She laid her head against his shoulder with a sigh and opened her heart to him. He’d seen her interview so already knew much of what she shared with him, but when she recalled the day she crashed, he felt her shudder and tightened his arm around her shoulders.

  When she fell silent Cameron kissed her temple. “There’s only one thing I’m still curious about, sweetheart.”

  She looked up at him, a frown creasing her face. “What’s that?”

  “Who’s Tony and is he someone I should worry about?”

  “How did you know about Tony?”

  Dusk had crept up around them but there was still enough light for him to see the look of puzzlement on her face.

  “You called out his name several times in your sleep when you were at my place.”

  Trisha sighed. “He was nearly my fiancé. He’d asked me to marry him and we were going to buy the engagement ring after the European Championships. Camille had heard rumors that he’d been seen on different occasions with other girls and I didn’t believe her. But at about the time I blacked out he was discovered in the back of a horse trailer with a hot-to-trot groom. Then I couldn’t ignore the rumors anymore. When he came to see me after I’d recovered consciousness, I threw him and his flowers out. His cheating was such a betrayal after everything I’d gone through and still had to deal with so no, you don’t have to worry about him.”

  Cameron got to his feet and pulled her up with him. “You do know, don’t you, that it’s going to be agony sleeping under the same roof as you and not have you in my bed?”

  She grinned up at him. “Mack said you were like a bear with a sore head without me.”

  “You’ve talked to Mack? What’s been going on behind my back woman?”

  Trisha threw her arms around him, the laughter bubbling out of her. “When you didn’t get in touch with Samantha like we thought you might, he went instead. She phoned me to make sure I wouldn’t be mad if she gave Mack my number. Even after he explained everything to me I wasn’t sure how I could make it right with you but I never expected you’d arrive right here on my doorstep.”

  “Sweetheart, I couldn’t stay away.” Cameron stopped to kiss her. “Did he tell you he’s getting married?”

  She nodded. “Yep. To Tova. Blonde hair, long legs and pink cowboy boots.”

  “He wants for them to get married at the ranch.” Cameron swallowed. He’d hesitated long enough. He’d known how right she was for him from the moment he touched her but still he hesitated. He had a home, a business. But he needed a wife, someone beside him who would make it all worthwhile. He needed Trisha. “I’d like it to be a double wedding so will you please marry me?”

  Her kiss swept away any doubt as to her answer and when he broke away to look into her eyes he saw tears shimmering there. He swept them gently away with his forefinger.

  “Just promise me one thing,” he whispered.

  She looked up at him cautiously. “What’s that?”

  “Please never, ever, wear pink cowboy boots.”

  Her whoop of laughter floated away into the night as they walked back to her home. They stopped under the portico and Trisha reached up to pull his head down and kiss him again but the door opened and her father stepped out.

  “Patricia Somerville, put that cowboy down.” His demand was softened by the underlying bubble of amusement in his voice.

  “Sorry, Dad, I can’t do that,” Trisha said with a grin. With shining eyes she looked up at Cameron and whispered to him, “Because I’ll never stop loving that cowboy.”

  The End

  More Books We Love Ltd. by Victoria Chatham

  His Dark Enchantress, Berkeley Square Book 1

  His Ocean Vixen, Berkeley Square Book 2

  Loving That Cowboy

  Cold Gold

  On Borrowed Time

  Shell Shocked

  The Buxton Chronicles Boxed Set

  The date on Victoria Chatham’s driver’s licence says one thing but this young-at-heart grandma says another. She will read anything that catches her interest but especially historical and western romance. She loves all four-legged critters, particularly dogs but is being converted into a cat lover by Onyx, an all black mostly Manx cat who helps her write. However, it’s her passion for horses that gets her away from her computer to trail ride and volunteer at Spruce Meadows, a world class equestrian centre near Calgary, Alberta, where she currently lives.

  She loves to travel and spends as much time as she can with her family in England. Find out more about her and her books at www.victoriachatham.webs.com

 

 

 
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