Cattleman's Choice

His smile faded. He sighed and lifted the cracked mug to his lips. “I was drunk last night.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Things got on top of me. I started thinking about how alone I was….” His eyes shot up, pinning hers. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you’d never speak to me again.”

She fidgeted uncomfortably. “We all get depressed sometimes, even me. It’s all right, no harm done.” She touched her lower lip with her tongue. “Well, no permanent harm, anyway,” she added dryly.

“What you told Patty was true,” he said.

“I didn’t really mean that, or what I called you last night,” she said, watching him. “You’re not an unattractive man, Carson.”

“Pull the other one,” he said curtly and put his cup down to light another cigarette. “I’ve finally got a little money, and I’m working on some investments that will pay a good dividend. But there’s nothing about me that would attract a woman, physically or intellectually, and you know it.”

She caught her breath. Did he really believe that? Her eyes wandered slowly over the lean, tough length of him, the powerful muscles of his arms and chest, the narrow flat stomach and long legs. He was devastating physically. Even his craggy face was appealing, if it were shaved and his hair trimmed. She remembered suddenly what Patty had said about how he’d be in bed, and she turned crimson.

He looked up in time to catch that blush and he frowned. “What brought that on?”

She wondered what he’d say if she admitted that she and Patty had been wondering how he was in bed. “Nothing,” she said, “just a stray thought.”

“Twenty-six, and you still blush like a virgin,” he murmured, watching her. “Are you one?” he asked, smiling faintly.

“Carson Joseph Wayne!” she exclaimed.

His blue eyes searched her gray ones. “I didn’t realize you knew my middle name.”

She toyed with her coffee cup. “It was on the deed, when I sold you that ten-acre parcel that used to be part of Uncle’s land.”

“Was it?” He sipped some more of his coffee. “You still haven’t answered me. Will you teach me?”

She went hot all over at the way he said it. “Carson, any woman who wanted you wouldn’t mind the way you are…” she began diplomatically.

“This one would,” he said harshly.

She was suddenly jealous and didn’t know why. How ridiculous! She touched her temple with a long finger. “Well…”

“I’m not stupid,” he said shortly. “I can learn.”

“Oh, all right,” she said with equal curtness.

He seemed to relax a little. “Great. Where do we start?”

Her eyes wandered over him. God help her, it would take a miracle. “You’ll need some new clothes,” she said. “A haircut, a shave…”

“What kind of clothes?”

“Shirts and slacks and jeans, and a suit or two.”

“What kind? What color?”

She grimaced. “Well, I don’t know!”

“You’ll have to come with me to Phoenix,” he said. “There are some big department stores there.”

“Why not Carter’s Men’s Shop in Sweetwater?” she protested.

His jaw tightened. “No way am I going in there with you, while old man Carter laughs in his whiskers watching us.”

She almost laughed at the fierce way he said it. “Okay. Phoenix it is.”

“Tomorrow,” he added firmly. “It’s Saturday,” he reminded her when she started to protest. “You can’t have any business that won’t wait until Monday.”

“That sounds as if I’d better not,” she laughed.

“You work too hard as it is,” he said. “Tomorrow you’ll have a holiday. I’ll even buy you lunch. You can teach me some table manners at the same time.”

It looked like this was going to be a fulltime job, but suddenly she didn’t mind. The project might be fun at that. After all, Carson did have distinct possibilities. His physique was superb. Why hadn’t she ever noticed that? She lifted her cup and sipped her coffee while Carson slurped his.

“That’s the first thing,” she said, indicating the cup. “Sip, don’t slurp.”

And when he tried it, unoffended, and succeeded, she grinned at him. He grinned back and a wild flare of sensation tingled up her spine. She’d have to be careful, she told herself. After all, she was revamping him for another woman, not herself. And then she wondered why that was such a depressing thought.

Chapter Three

If it had sounded like a simple thing, helping Carson buy clothes, Mandelyn soon lost her illusions.

“You can’t be serious,” he told her, glaring as she tried to convince him that a pale blue pinstriped shirt with a white collar was very trendy and chic. “The boys would laugh me out of the yard.”

She sighed. “Carson, it’s a whole new world. Nobody has to go around in white shirts anymore unless they want to.”

“What kind of tie would I wear with that…thing,” he asked shortly, while the small salesman hovered nearby chewing on his lower lip.

“A solid one, or something with a small print.”

“God save us,” Carson burst out.

“And with a solid colored shirt—say, pink—you’d wear a striped tie.”

“I’m not wearing pink shirts,” he retorted. “I’m a man!”

“A caveman,” she agreed. “If you don’t want my advice, I’ll go buy a tube of lipstick.”

“Hold it,” he called as she started to walk away. He stared down at the packaged shirt. “All right, I’ll get it.”

She didn’t smile, but it took an effort. Her eyes went over him. He was wearing a beige corduroy jacket and a worn white turtleneck shirt and tan polyester slacks. He’d had a haircut and a shave, though, and already he looked different. In the right clothes, he’d be an absolute knockout, she realized.

After a few minutes, she convinced him that striped shirts weren’t at all effeminate, and he bought several more in different colors and ties to match. Then she coaxed him toward the suits.

The salesman took him to the changing rooms, and when he came back minutes later in a vested blue pinstriped suit wearing a blue shirt and burgundy tie, she almost fell off her chair. He didn’t look like Carson anymore, except for the rigid features and glittering blue eyes.