The Cowboy Takes A Wife

Devon continued to stare at Barbara, confused.

Barbara chuckled. “That look on your face says I was right to bring this one along tonight.” She patted Cole’s upper arm. “We need to get the word out about his sculptures.”

Sculptures? Devon was sure her confusion had left furrows on her forehead so deep you could plant crops in them.

“Turns out he has a real talent for making these beautiful metal sculptures,” Barbara said.

“Mom,” Cole said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Devon barely suppressed another grin.

“I don’t know that beautiful is the right word,” Cole said as he shifted his gaze to Devon. “I just weld together old scrap pieces that nobody wants.”

“Pfftt,” Barbara said with a dismissive wave. “Don’t listen to him. I stick by my assertion that his work is beautiful. You should come out to see it sometime.”

Devon caught her mouth before it fell open. The last thing she needed to do was spend more time with Cole. At least not until she managed to purge her brain of those long-ago memories of him and got used to seeing him around town again. She knew he’d been back living on his family’s ranch with his mom for a few months, but she’d probably seen only him twice.

You know it was twice—once at the Primrose Café and once when he’d been talking with Liam Parrish outside the hardware store.

She’d heard he’d retired from the rodeo circuit, but that was about it. And she hadn’t been about to start asking questions about him. That would draw too much unwanted attention and questions directed back at her.

“Mom, I’m sure Devon is busy.”

Once again, Devon pulled herself back to the present, hoping she hadn’t offended Cole by being so obviously surprised by the fact that he was an artist, one who was going to take part in the Arts and Crafts Trail.

“Maybe after the trail’s opening weekend, I’ll leave the shop in Mandy’s hands and drive it myself. It’d be good to be familiar with all the stops in case anyone asks about specifics.”

What would Cole look like working on a sculpture? Every time she’d thought of him in the years since high school, his image was always attached to rodeo and bulls. She imagined him with a welding iron, shaping pieces of metal to his will, sweat drenching his body to the point that he had to remove his shirt.

Ahhh, she couldn’t think like that. She had to get out of there before she said or did something monumentally stupid and embarrassing. A glance at the smile on Barbara’s face made Devon wonder if the older woman had some idea the route Devon’s thoughts had been traveling. Forget about embarrassing. More like mortifying.

When Ryan Teague stopped to speak to Cole and Barbara, Devon made for the exit as if the back of her pants were on fire.

She was already a few steps out the front door when she stopped. Because she’d evidently ticked off fate today, her mother was walking straight toward her and it was too late to make an escape. When Devon spotted the nice-looking man in an impeccable suit accompanying her mother, a sinking feeling appeared and immediately dropped to the bottom of Devon’s stomach.

“Devon, there you are, dear,” her mother said, too bright and cheery. Devon wondered if anyone besides her could tell that it was a facade. “I think something’s wrong with your phone. I tried to call you earlier. I thought you’d want to know so you can check on it.”

Her mother knew good and well Devon had most likely ignored the call, but this was all a show for the man beside her. He might be a perfectly nice guy, but the mere fact that Devon knew what was coming soured her on him. Not to mention he didn’t look at all like the kind of man she found attractive. His blond, perfect, high-end-magazine-ad appearance didn’t fit in here in Blue Falls, and he certainly wasn’t a good fit for Devon.

Not like Cole.

Stop thinking about him, especially in front of your mother.

Devon wasn’t entirely sure her mother didn’t have the ability to read minds. Angela Newberry just chose to ignore what she found there.

Her mother gave Devon’s outfit—white drawstring cotton pants with pale orange pinstripes and a billowy orange peasant blouse—a disdainful look that her companion couldn’t see.

“Sweetheart,” Angela said, pouring on the mother-daughter closeness act a little thick, “I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to meet Steven Jackson. He’s an attorney for one of your father’s important customers, in town only for today. I told him he simply couldn’t leave Blue Falls without exploring the charm of our fair town.”

Devon resisted the urge to strangle her mother, instead deciding to beat her at her own game.

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you that opportunity, Mom. After all, you know more about the town than I do since you’ve lived here longer.”

The slight narrowing of her mother’s eyes told Devon she was going to pay for that comment later when Steven Jackson was nowhere near to hear it. Still, her mother didn’t listen to reason. She simply refused to believe that Devon didn’t like any of the men her mother deemed appropriate for the only daughter of one of the county’s wealthiest families.

“I can’t, dear,” her mother said. “I have a meeting that was planned before I knew Steven would be here.”

Yeah, right.

“If it’s an inconvenience, please don’t worry about it,” Steven said.

Before Devon could respond, her mother said, “Oh, nonsense. I’m sure Devon is free and would love to be your tour guide. I just heard that they have a new chef at the Wildflower Inn, too. You’ll have to try it out and let me know how the food is.”

Devon wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if poor in-the-middle Steven could see the steam coming out of her ears.

“There you are, sweetie. Sorry we got held up in there.”

Devon turned to Barbara, who’d stepped up beside her. Cole had to be close by, but Devon didn’t look for him. She wasn’t willing to risk that certain rush of heat up her neck and into her face in front of her mother.

“You ready to go?” Barbara asked Devon.

She was about to ask Barbara what in the world she was talking about when she realized the older woman was throwing her a lifeline. It didn’t matter why, Devon decided to look at it as a gift from the universe and roll with it.

“Yes.”

She could almost feel the anger radiating off her mother.

“Excuse us, Barbara, but Devon was making plans with Steven.”

Devon barely kept herself from telling her mother she was being rude. How could anyone be rude to Barbara Davis? She was as sweet as pie.

“Devon already has plans to have dinner with us,” Barbara responded. Was that a little edge to her voice? What was going on here?

Her mother’s expression revealed a moment of shock, over in less than a blink when she pasted on her fake smile. “Perhaps you can reschedule. Steven is only in town from Dallas for this evening.”

Steven looked like he wanted to be snatched up by a giant eagle and carried right out of this really uncomfortable situation. Devon didn’t blame him.

Devon sensed movement on her left a moment before someone wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Not someone. Cole.

She stiffened, afraid that if she moved he would disappear, taking his delicious warmth and fresh, clean, honest scent with him.

“You ready for dinner?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

She was starving, all right. Starving for air. Starving for a regular heartbeat. Starving for the ability to be able to look up into his eyes without revealing just how much his simple gesture was rocking her world.

Chapter Two (#ulink_f03c391d-76c9-59ff-b4ee-474a8a1bcd2f)