Proud Mary by Bette McNicholas

Author:Bette McNicholas [McNicholas, Bette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, rodeo, identity, forgiveness, family
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2019-01-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

When they arrived back to the fairgrounds, Chance said he was going to bunk down because he had to get up in the middle of the night and it was near eleven o’clock already.

Jenny and Manny headed for their motor home and Carolina began to follow, but was held back by Stede. Jenny whispered, “I’ll leave the door open for ya’,” laughing over her shoulder.

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Stede unlocked the tack room to his trailer and pulled out a heavy quilt, took her by the hand and led her away from all the trailers, corrals and noisy cowboys.

On the other side of the grandstand, over a little hill, was a lake surrounded by grassland and trees and a few small spotlights under some trees. The view of the city from there and the moon sparkling on the water was a beautiful sight.

There were other couples scattered here and there around the lake and Stede found a spot for them that appeared isolated. She decided all cowboys thought alike—a steak dinner and a lady.

“Is this what people mean when they say, out behind the barn?”

Stede laughed. “Yes, but this has pleasant scenery and doesn’t smell like cow.”

He spread the quilt and they sat down, tossing their hats aside in order to better see the spill of stars that hung low in the sky, like diamonds scattered over black velvet. In an attempt to inform him she wasn’t totally delusional, she said, “I have a feeling I’m not the first girl you brought here.”

“Oh! And what makes you say that?”

“No specific reason, except you came equipped with this heavy cushiony quilt.”

“I don’t know where your mind is, Carolina,” he said grinning. “But you obviously don’t have a very high opinion of cowboys. We carry this quilt in case we ever get stuck in a snowstorm. It snows a lot in Amarillo and in northern New Mexico and Arizona for that matter.”

She gave him a little shove and said, “Thanks for the weather report, Willard!”

He fell backward on the quilt and pulled her with him. He didn’t give her a chance to speak, but rolled her over on her back and pinned her between his arms.

“Kiss me…”

Carolina turned sideways until he was on his side facing her. She framed his handsome face with her hands, lightly resting her thumbs on his sideburns. With her fingers buried in the thick, springy softness of his hair worn slightly longer in the back, she kissed the tip of his nose, the outer corner of each eye, and his smooth-shaven cheeks.

She took her time deliberately trailing little teasing kisses along his jaw line, aware of his mounting impatience. Building on it, she thoroughly explored his elusive and endearing dimples and ended by gently kissing his chin.

Her lips hovered centimeters from his mouth, and on the return pass she captured his lower lip between her teeth and softly tugged until it slipped from her hold. She spoke against his upper lip, barely kissing him,

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