Only Hers (20 page)

“Everyone alludes to a woman in Matt’s past. What did she do to him?” she asked, unaware that her voice trembled.

“You got your feller back East,” Cleve finally said. “Why so interested in the boss’s life?”

“I-I’m just concerned.”

Bushy eyebrows rose. “You’re sure that’s all?”

“Yes.” Matt wasn’t for her.

“Probably just as well. A city lady like you wouldn’t be much good to a hard-working rancher like the boss,” Cleve said. “He needs a sturdier woman.”

“Is that how you measure a woman, by her sturdiness?” she asked sarcastically.

His crackling laughter boomed. “You give as good as you get, girlie. Does that mean you’re interested in the job?”

She jerked back. Her mouth worked several seconds before any words came out, and when they did they were filled with indignation. “Matt means nothing to me.”

“You don’t have to hurt my ears. A simple no would have gotten the job done.”

“You shouldn’t ask such personal questions.”

“I figure if you don’t ask, you won’t learn.” Cleve started down the aisle again. “Anyway, it would take a mighty special woman to get the boss to the altar, mighty special indeed.”

“Melanie, I think I’m in trouble,” Shannon said softly into the receiver.

Her best friend laughed. “That’s usually my line.”

Shannon leaned against the wooden chair in the kitchen and almost smiled. She could picture this woman who had been her best friend since college with one foot draped over the side of her hammock in her living room, her tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose, a mischievous smile on her coffee-colored face.

But that smile could turn intimidating in seconds if she was thwarted. The staff and patients in the rehabilitation center where she headed the physical therapy department quickly learned to respect both.

“I’m serious. There’s a man—”

A loud screech came through the line. “Way to go, girl. I always knew James was too stiff for you. Now, tell me every delicious and dirty detail, and don’t leave anything juicy out.”

Shannon cast a glance at the oven where Cleve’s German sweet chocolate cake was baking, as if to make sure the loud noise hadn’t made the cake fall. He was the cause of all these doubts resurfacing. Matt wasn’t for her. She couldn’t heal his heart. But Lord, how did she stop herself from wanting to do that very thing?

“Shannon?” Melanie prompted.

“Well, there’s nothing much to tell ex—”

“What! After I’ve waited all these years for some guy to knock your socks off, you’re telling me you’re still at the looking stages?”

“If you’d stop cutting me off, I’d tell you.”

“So talk.”

Impatient. Melanie had always been impatient. She rushed headlong into everything. She wasn’t afraid to take chances. Shannon marveled at her best friend as much as she envied her free-wheeling spirit. Nothing intimidated Melanie, especially not a man.

Yet, she never thought less of Shannon because she weighed everything carefully before making a decision. Melanie had always said it was because of Shannon’s single-minded determination once she made up her mind. Melanie’s friendship and loyalty were unwavering. “Thanks for sending me the money.”

“You’re welcome. Now, tell me everything before I start thinking your parents might be right about you being in trouble. Has this brother got it going on or what?”

Shannon had no difficulty answering that question. “He’s the most compelling and the most irritating man I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, girl. I wish I could see the man who finally melted your butter.”

“You’ve seen him.”

“When?”

Shannon sighed. “Four years ago. He’s Matt Taggart, the Walking Hunk, the nephew of Wade Taggart.”

“You come home right now or, better yet, I’ll fly down and we can drive back together,” Melanie told her, all playfulness gone. “That man disrupted the entire department every time he came to therapy with his uncle. Work virtually came to a standstill. There were so many tongues hanging on the floor you had to be careful where you stepped.”

“I heard it was the same way on the unit,” Shannon admitted.

“Exactly. No woman was immune to him, and although he took several of the staff women out, once his uncle was discharged they never heard from Matt Taggart again. You worked the night shift so you didn’t get to see all the pitiful weeping and moaning when he moved on to the next woman or if he chose one woman over another.” Melanie snorted delicately.

“I thought,” she continued, “they were all being foolish until his uncle introduced us. If his good looks didn’t get you, that molasses voice or those devilish eyes would. Let’s not even get into his body. Oh, Lord! That’s one man who looks as good going as he does coming.”

“I know.”

“You’re too vulnerable to tangle with a heartbreaker like that. Lord only knows if any woman could,” Melanie said flatly. “He’s the kind of man who’ll give you heaven for a few days, then drop you straight into hell for a lifetime. Come home.”

“I can’t. I can’t explain it, I just can’t leave.” Shannon might be unsure of her feelings, unsure of her control, but one thing she was sure of was that if she ran this time it would be the worst mistake of her life.

“No, you didn’t, Shannon Elaine Johnson,” Melanie riled. “Tell me you didn’t go and fall in love with this guy.”

She had never lied to Melanie and she wasn’t about to start. “I don’t know.”

“Then don’t. Get your soft-hearted behind out while you still can,” her friend advised. “Marry Mr. Conservative and be happy.”

“Melanie, you know how I feel about marriage. It’s forever. I couldn’t do that to James.”

“So you’re gonna stay and let Taggart leave his boot marks on your back as well as on your heart,” her friend said tightly.

“Matt hardly pays me any attention unless I do something wrong,” she confessed.

“What’s wrong with that man? Men fall all over themselves trying to get your attention. We had to have an unlisted phone number in college because of all the guys trying to hit on you.”

“The way I remember it, half of those calls were for you.”

“From men trying to get to you through me. And they’re still doing it,” Melanie said. “It’s a good thing my ego can take it or I might end up in therapy.”

“Men don’t ignore you, but Matt does ignore me.”

“He must have fallen off his horse one time too many. You’re the best thing that could happen to a hard man like Taggart.”

Shannon smiled at her friend’s quick defense. “He doesn’t think so.”

“His loss. Come home.”

“I can’t. I just needed to talk to someone.” It went unsaid that it had always been her grandfather whose counsel she sought.

Silence. “How’s it going?”

“Better,” she answered, and for the first time since she lost her grandfather, she actually meant the words. “I’m going to be all right. I know that now. I’ll miss him forever, but I can make it.”

“I never doubted.”

The oven timer dinged. “I better get off the phone. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. Just guard that heart of yours.”

“Good-bye, Melanie.” Slowly she hung up the phone and realized her best friend’s warning had come too late.

“Is Brazos’s fetlock worse?” Matt asked as soon as he entered the barn that evening and saw Cleve standing by the horse’s stall.

“Nope,” the cowhand answered. “Just walkin’ off two big slices of German sweet chocolate cake.”

Matt dismounted with a smile. Cleve’s sweet tooth was well known. “How did you talk Octavia into baking on her off day?”

“I don’t recall sayin’ Mrs. Ralston baked the cake.”

Strong fingers paused in the middle of tying the reins. “Who else could . . . Shannon?”

The dusty brim of a battered hat dipped. “Yes, siree. She may not know squat about ranchin’, but she shore can bake. Best tastin’ cake that ever passed these lips. The man who puts a ring on her finger is gonna be mighty lucky.”

“Or mighty miserable,” Matt said, throwing back the stirrup to unbuckle the cinch.

“I bet that successful lawyer feller in St. Louis doesn’t think so.”

Matt stilled, then turned, his eyes intent. “How do you know so much about him?” he asked, unaware of the sharpness of his voice.

“I asked while we were grocery shoppin’,” Cleve answered with satisfaction.

“You two all right now?”

“I reckon. Figured anyone who’d shed a tear for me deserved a second chance. Besides, that fancy car of hers couldn’t have brought back all the groceries Mrs. Ralston usually buys.” A crafty smile brightened his lined face. “Got me a cake out of it, too.”

Matt grunted and turned back to his horse. Looks like he was the only man in Jackson Falls who wasn’t tripping over himself trying to sing Shannon’s praises. “She seems to have a knack for making some men happy.”

“That feller in St. Louis must have a lot of competition,” Cleve said thoughtfully. “When it came time to check out, we had more sackers than a dog has fleas.”

“That must have made
her
happy.” The saddle landed with a solid thunk on the wooden rail.

Cleve shook his head. “Miss Shannon didn’t seem to notice. She was laughing at some silly front-page story in one of them tabloids. She sure has a pretty laugh.”

Matt had had enough. He faced the elderly cowhand. “You sound as if she’s your best friend.”

“I’m just tellin’ it like it tis. She’s a mighty interesting lady even if she had the misfortune not to be born a Texan.”

“Somehow I think she would take exception to hearing that.”

“Reckon you’re right.” Cleve grasped the horse’s reins. “I’ll take care of Sundance for you. You better get inside and see if any of that cake is left. Jay and the boys were just ridin’ in when she came out to tell me to come and get mine.”

“I’ll pass.”

Cleve lifted a heavy eyebrow. “Since when didn’t you like anything chocolate?”

“I don’t want any cake. I’m not going to eat some just to please Shannon. I’m sure the rest of you have praised her cooking skills enough. She doesn’t need mine.”

“Well, I’m sure Miss Shannon won’t force any down your throat.” With that remark, the cowhand turned and led the horse away.

Matt started for the house at a ground-eating pace. He had overreacted. Cleve knew it and he knew it. He just hoped the elderly cowhand didn’t know the reason.

Shannon.

He wasn’t able to get her out of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dismiss her as easily as he had other women. It was more than the softness of her skin, the tenderness of her touch, more than her beautiful face, her shapely body.

He kept remembering her stubbornness in repairing the fence, her tears for a man she barely knew, her admonishment for him to eat his lunch. She was like no other woman he had ever met. She fascinated and confused the hell out of him. He may not have succumbed to Shannon, but he was sure teetering on the brink.

Somehow he had to keep from going over. His life wasn’t what he wanted, that was for sure, but he wasn’t
about to go through the hell his ex-wife put him through trying to get it. Having his niece and nephew, Chandler and Kane Jr., was almost as good as having his own children. Against a gut full of pain, almost wasn’t so bad.

Snatching open the door, he entered the kitchen and came to a dead halt. Shannon stood by the stove, a shy smile on her toffee-colored face, a plate of steaming, delicious-smelling food in her hand. Without asking, he knew it was for him. She was not going to get to him as she had all the other men.

“Where’s Octavia?”

The smile on her beautiful face slipped a notch. “Eating dinner at Mama Sophia’s with her church auxiliary group.”

Matt’s gaze swept the stove noting the skillet and the two pots. “You cooked.”

“Octavia wanted to stay. She didn’t have time this morning to cook something for you.” Shannon tucked her lower lip between startling white teeth. “She said you liked stuffed pork chops.”

“Sometimes.” They were one of his favorites. “You can go. I can handle things from here.”

She turned back to the stove. “That’s all right. I have to get mine.”

He glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty. “You haven’t eaten?”

“No. I got kind of busy. While you wash up, I’ll set the table,” she told him, her voice oddly breathless.

Placing his hat on the back of his chair, he went to the kitchen sink. Water gushed out of the faucet, and he stuck his hands underneath.

“You know Octavia doesn’t like for you to do that.”

Matt glanced over his shoulder to see Shannon setting two plates on the table. “So we won’t tell her.”

She smiled and brought him a towel. “Do you always get your way?”

His gaze roamed over her face. “Am I going to get my way with you?”

Her eyes rounded. Her sharp intake of breath cut across the small space separating them. She took an unsteady step back.

He had meant the ranch. At least that’s what he
thought
he had meant. But watching the tip of her tongue glide across the sensual fullness of her glistening red lower lip, the rise and fall of her full breasts beneath her sleeveless beige blouse, he wasn’t sure.

It was suddenly very important that he made sure. “Are you going to sign over the meadow?”

Disappointment. Surely that wasn’t disappointment in her brown eyes. “I—I told you I would when I leave.”

He studied her closely as she went to the refrigerator, returned to the table with a pitcher of tea and filled their glasses with a hand that trembled. Tonight, instead of her usual long pants, she wore wheat-colored shorts that clearly showed her long, shapely legs. Legs that could easily wrap around a man’s waist.

“I just thought you might have a special reason to sign now so you can leave here sooner.”

“No. No reason,” she answered, her gaze as direct as his.

Her answer shouldn’t have mattered. It did.

He shouldn’t have asked the question. He had.

There shouldn’t be a need to sit down before she noticed his jeans had gotten considerably tighter. There definitely was.

“We better eat before it gets cold,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed need.