Cowboy for Keeps

The location was a good one. It allowed them an unobstructed view of the trail, the wagon, the horses and the city.

“What are the chances someone will come riding by?” Dallas asked.

“Not much. This isn’t the most popular route.”

“I should get my camera.” Dallas’s gaze wandered. “Could be worse. At least the scenery’s beautiful.”

Conner studied her profile. “It sure is.”

“I know that’s South Mountain, and over there’s Camelback.” She pointed to a craggy range in the far distance. “Which mountains are those?”

“The White Tanks,” he answered, without taking his eyes off her face.

“Incredible,” she breathed. “We can see the entire valley from here.”

She must have become aware of his scrutiny because she turned to face him. “Do you even know where I was pointing?”

“Yes.”

Laughter bubbled out of her, lively and enchanting.

If not for his mouth having gone completely dry, he’d have joined her.

Was she the least bit aware of her effect on him?

“I had dinner at my parents’ last night.”

She was distracting him with small talk.

“How are they?”

“Good.

“I bet your mom’s happy about the baby.”

“Are you kidding? She’s ecstatic. Already making plans. Has a furniture maker friend building a cradle and an artist friend designing a mural for the nursery wall. She said to tell you hello, by the way.”

“Give her my regards.” The wagon seat creaked in protest as Conner shifted. There wasn’t much room, and their thighs inadvertently brushed, then their elbows.

Dallas didn’t seem to mind. Conner sure didn’t.

“Hank mentioned he may have some clients who are hiring. He’s going to make some calls tomorrow.”

Conner’s defenses rose. He hated the idea of Dallas and her family discussing his lack of employment. “I don’t want to impose on him.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Conner didn’t need help. Not from Dallas or her family. He was more than capable of finding a job on his own. “Since when did I become dinner conversation?”

“I was telling them about our trip today, and they asked how you were.”

“I see.” He leaned forward and struck a closed fist on his knee.

Dallas must have realized all was not well. “Did I do something wrong?” She placed a hand on his arm.

Her tenderness and compassion could be his undoing if he let it.

“I’m not one to take handouts from people.” He had enough trouble with Gavin and Clay. At least he could repay their generosity with hard work.

“Hank calling some of his clients isn’t a handout. He’s being nice.”

She was right. Conner was letting that damnable pride of his get in the way. Instead, he should be exploring every opportunity regardless of the source.

“Thanks.” He covered her hand, which still rested on his arm. “I like that you’re thinking of me.”

“It’s only fair, after all the help you’re giving me.”

“You really think the book can boost your career?”

“I hope so.” A wistfulness came over her. “Someday, my photos are going to be hanging right there alongside Dorothea Lange’s.”

“Who’s that?”

Dallas gawked at him in disbelief. “Only the most influential documentary photographer of the twentieth century.”

“Oh, her.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I thought your commercial business was doing well.”

“It is. Pays the bills. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.”

“But you want more.”

“What can I say? I crave fame and success. You understand.”

He did. The success part, anyway. He also understood how reaching for the stars could result in a spectacular fall.

“Mostly, I want people to look at my pictures and do more than say isn’t that nice.” The wistfulness from earlier returned. “I want them to get goose bumps. Be inspired. Moved to tears. Have their perspectives changed. Heck, maybe even their lives.”

“Wow.”

“I know it’s a lot.” Her cheeks reddened. “And I sound like an egomaniac.”

“No, I’m just...impressed. And jealous.”

“Of what?”