Make Mine a Cowboy Read online

  Right. Friends. He was really good at reminding her of what she was beginning to forget.

  Her stomach tightened. This wasn’t the carefree cowboy she met when she first came to town—before Gran got hurt. He was someone else entirely, someone she was starting to care about as a friend. Or more. She didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it because either way she could feel herself getting attached, and this was a really sweet date that he didn’t have to take her on and ugh. Why couldn’t she just enjoy it?

  Charlotte sighed. “I never made it to a football game or basketball game or school play or Model UN or any big event because I was too busy with my club, Future Medical Professionals of America,” she said.

  His brows drew together. “I didn’t know there was such a club, but then again, I went to a pretty small high school. We just had the basics.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “We didn’t exactly have such a club either. I founded it, convinced my biology teacher to sponsor it, and it was basically six of us who got together and did medical research.”

  “For…fun?” Ben asked. While there was no judgment in his tone, she could tell he was holding something back. A laugh? A pitiful grin for her missing out on what he thought was the crux of the high school experience?

  She nodded, desperately wanting to drain her Solo cup before she continued, but she kept herself from doing it. Maybe she had missed out—on connecting with people, on sharing her hopes and her fears—but the trade-off had been worth it, hadn’t it? She was good at what she did—really good—and her patients were better for it. And even though she technically wasn’t practicing medicine in Meadow Valley, who better to take care of Gran during her recovery than Charlotte?

  “Kind of?” she admitted. “My grandfather had one other heart attack before the one that…you know.”

  Ben nodded but let her continue.

  “I love my parents. Don’t get me wrong. But he and Gran were different. They were nurturing in a way my parents weren’t, a way I needed. Life always felt safer with them. More stable. Anyway, when we first found out about Gramps’s heart condition, I learned all I could about it to make sure he was doing everything possible to stay healthy.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I know he had doctors looking out for him, but they didn’t care about him like I did. They didn’t love him.” Her throat grew tight, and she stopped to collect herself.

  “Doc,” Ben said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say any more.”

  But she shook her head. “I like talking about him. It’s just hard sometimes.” She paused. “Okay. All the time.”

  “Can’t say I know loss like that,” Ben said. He knocked his shoulder softly against hers. “So keep going if you want, but stop if it’s too much, okay?”

  She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat that was only partly for Gramps. The other part had a cowboy’s name written all over it, a cowboy she wasn’t expecting when she came back to Meadow Valley—at least, not this version of him.

  “There’s not much more to say. The first heart attack was a shock because Gramps was pretty fit. The second one happened when he overdid it on a hike, trying to be even healthier. By the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital, he was gone. I started my little medical club at school two weeks later.”

  Ben set his hand gently on Charlotte’s knee.

  She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, blinking a few times to will the tears away.

  “I knew then that medicine was the only choice of career for me. I thought I’d go into cardiology, but when I did my peds rotation, I realized that working with kids would be like hitting the ground running, you know? Teach them healthy habits when they’re young and give them the best shot at growing old.”

  And because she didn’t know what else to say after that, she let the rosé ease the ache of the memory—and the mild panic about having just shared all of that with Ben.

  She stared straight ahead, afraid that if she made eye contact she might actually come undone. And Charlotte didn’t know how to do undone, nor did she want to scare off her new friend who’d taken her on such a lovely date—that wasn’t a date.

  She nibbled on the rim of the Solo cup once it was empty.

  Ben’s hand hadn’t moved from her knee.

  “My father’s been living with early-onset Alzheimer’s for several years now. I’m sure you remember when we briefly lost him during the fall festival. When he first got sick, none of us knew what was happening and it messed everything up. His job. His marriage. And eventually his ability to care for himself. Sam and I made a deal that we were just going to live our lives and not get tested to see if we had the gene. I convinced myself that I was going to enjoy the ride until it was my turn to get off, but a little over six months ago, I went to visit our father, and he had no idea who I was. Things got heated, and he had me thrown out of the facility, claiming I was there to steal his identity. Never told my brother about it, but it scared me enough that I went and got tested for the gene. The results were positive.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I thought his future was my future. So naturally I turned into even more of a prick than I already was. But the joke was on me.”

  He laughed again, but there was a bitterness to it, and Charlotte finally turned to face him, absently placing her hand over his.

  His eyes were dark and his jaw tight, which was more emotion—more real emotion—than she’d seen since she’d met him. She wasn’t prepared for this, not tonight and maybe not ever. Charlotte could deal with facts and figures without missing a beat, but feelings? Feelings were messy, and they were supposed to keep this neat and tidy, weren’t they?

  So she did her best to mask her expression, to remain professional like she would when talking to any patient—or in her case, often the parents of patients. This was why she was good at her job. She learned to distance herself from the emotion of it. Gran had caught her by surprise. Even after spending the entire cross-country plane ride talking herself out of reacting emotionally, Charlotte wasn’t prepared for seeing Pearl in that hospital bed, bruised and bandaged and connected to an IV.

  She wanted to tell Ben that everything would be okay—something she never did—even though she knew it wouldn’t. These were her emotions talking, and they made no sense. Charlotte liked sense. She needed sense. Which meant she had to remind herself about the safety of distance even when a person was close enough to touch. And kiss.

  “But it’s not your future?” she asked, confused.

  He shook his head. “For six months I was convinced it was—until I went with Sam to get his results and found out there was another Benjamin Callahan in Plumas County being tested for the same thing.”

  Her jaw fell open. So much for keeping her cool. “They gave you the wrong results?”

  He raised his brows and then nodded.

  “Okay. That’s it.” She scooted herself to better face him and pulled her skirt over her legs so she could cross them. “This is no longer a date. It’s a celebration.” She peered into his empty cup, then tapped hers against his. “Bartender—another round for me and my friend.” Then, heeding her own request, grabbed the bottle of bubbly and emptied the rest of it into their cups.

  He laughed, and she let out a relieved breath. She could handle a smiling Ben, especially when it was directed at her.

  “To Ben Callahan,” she said, holding her cup high. “May he get all that he wants out of this amazing second chance now that he’s healthy as a horse.”

  He raised his glass as well. “And to Charlotte Doc North.” He winked, and something fluttered in her belly. “May her time here be well spent and in the company of good friends, and may her grandmother refrain from any and all matchmaking from here on out.”

  She snorted, then gasped, but Ben just kept on grinning. Good Lord that grin.

  “Cheers to that!” she said, tapping plastic against plastic, wondering if in another time and place, she might have already met her match.

  She
tilted her head toward the star-speckled sky and downed the effervescent liquid, willing it to go straight to her head, to cloud thoughts she certainly shouldn’t be thinking.

  They slammed their empty cups down in unison.

  Charlotte hiccupped.

  Ben gave her a pointed look. “Why do we say that, anyway? Healthy as a horse.”

  The night air was cool and crisp against her cheeks, but inside Charlotte bubbled over with warmth.

  “Horses are remarkably healthy animals,” she said. “They eat well, exercise often, and are sociable creatures, which is great for mental health. And a healthy mind helps promote a healthy body.” Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Sorry. That was Dr. Charlotte talking to one of her six-year-old patients. Sometimes it’s hard to turn it off.”

  Ben grinned, and his shoulders relaxed. “I’d love to see you at work. I bet you’re great with those mini humans.”

  She snorted again and silently cursed the rosé for working too well, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. She shook her head and laughed. He’d already seen her at her worst two mornings in a row this week. What was a little snort after that?

  “I’m great with kids,” she admitted. “Way better with them than grown-ups.”

  He shrugged. “You seem to be doing okay with me, and I’m almost a grown-up.”

  She smiled at him. “You should give yourself more credit than you do.”

  “And I should really give you some food,” he teased, knocking his knee against hers.

  Her pulse quickened.

  A flash of heat rushed through her. Why was this man—this night—making her so nervous? It was like she’d lost control of her body’s reaction to his touch, his teasing, and just the close proximity of him.

  “I’m famished,” she admitted, then lifted one of the picnic basket flaps, and he gave her hand a playful smack.

  “Hey. I worked hard letting Ivy help me put this together.” He gave her a mischievous grin. “At least let me surprise you with what’s in there before you go grabbing at everything like a toddler in a candy store.”

  He opened the basket to reveal two foil-wrapped sandwiches, a container of what looked like potato salad, and another that definitely looked like dark-chocolate-covered strawberries.

  Charlotte’s mouth watered, and it took everything in her not to inhale the entire contents of that basket—and maybe the basket itself.

  “Ivy said these were her favorite. She snuck them out of the inn’s café thanks to Val. She snuck everything out, actually. I can’t take credit for much more than getting the food here unharmed.”

  He handed Charlotte one of the sandwiches, and she unwrapped it like it was the first present from under the tree on Christmas morning.

  “PB and J and Brie?” she exclaimed, and then the crispy corner of the grilled sourdough bread was already in her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said as her teeth sank into the sandwich, her favorite of her grandmother’s recipes. She swallowed her first bite and licked a warm glob of peanut butter from the corner of her mouth. “It doesn’t matter how many times I try to make this back in New York. It never tastes the same as when it comes from the Meadow Valley Inn kitchen.”

  Ben hadn’t even taken a bite of his yet. He’d unwrapped it but was just staring at it, brow furrowed.

  “Looking at it is fun,” Charlotte said. “But you’re not going to mouthgasm without tasting it.”

  Ben met her gaze, his expression still wary. “But it’s peanut butter, jam…and cheese.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’s nacho cheese. It’s Brie. And Brie goes amazingly well with something sweet.” She broke off a gooey piece of her own sandwich and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you trust me?” she asked. And when he opened his mouth to reply, she popped her shared piece of heaven between his lips, a shiver running through her as her thumb swiped the tip of his tongue.

  Charlotte snatched her hand back as Ben’s eyes widened and then fell shut. He let out a deep moan—which sent another shiver from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes.

  She blew out a shaky breath. “See?” she said, fighting to maintain composure while Gran’s tried-and-true favorite suddenly felt a little less wholesome. Maybe she shouldn’t have used the word—

  “Mouthgasm,” Ben said after swallowing his bite. “You weren’t kidding, Doc.”

  She stuffed a big hunk of said mouthgasm past her lips and nodded, figuring she’d better refrain from speaking until she wasn’t thinking about a certain cowboy’s tongue touching her thumb or the countless places that tongue had been weeks before but wouldn’t be going any longer because friends didn’t do those sorts of things and…and…Why did he have to take her on such a sweet date and be such a sweet and vulnerable guy behind that playful exterior? He made it too easy for her to open up too. Everything about being with him was easy. And that was terrifying.

  It looked like he’d taken the hint because they ate in silence after that, polishing off every last crumb of their sandwiches along with the container of potato salad until Charlotte was sure she was going to give birth to a food baby at any second.

  “Save the strawberries?” Ben asked.

  She nodded. “You read my mind. Funny how quickly hangry turns into food coma.”

  He laughed. “How about we pack up and I walk you home? It’s not too cold, stars are out, and the inn’s practically across the street.”

  “That sounds nice,” she said. “And an awful lot like something a couple would do on a real date.”

  He shrugged. “This kind of has been a real date, hasn’t it? I picked you up, bought you a free dinner, made you a picnic under the stars. Even if we’re only doing this for Pearl, there’s no reason not to end it with a quiet walk home. Hell, I might even let you hold my hand if you play your cards right.”

  Only doing this for Pearl.

  Had her flashes of heat and chills been one-sided all night? Maybe she needed to take her temperature when she got back to the inn. She could be coming down with a bug and confusing that for feelings that were highly inconvenient.

  “Or we could take the truck,” he said when she still hadn’t responded. “I didn’t mean to step over any invisible boundaries, Doc.”

  She brushed crumbs off her skirt and rose to her knees. If he could play it cool, then so could she. “No. Sorry. I spaced out there for a minute. Let’s walk back. That’ll be nice. Not sure about the hand-holding thing though,” she teased. At least she hoped it sounded like teasing. She couldn’t tell anymore.

  She climbed down the engine’s ladder first, getting down a bit easier than she got up. When they made it out to First Street, it was quiet and dark save for the few streetlamps.

  “Wait until you see this place come Christmas,” Ben said as they crossed the street and headed toward the inn.

  “The holiday light parade?” Charlotte asked, remembering when she was a kid and her parents still came with her on trips to see her grandparents. On Christmas Eve, every storefront on First Street would turn on their holiday decorations in quick succession, sending a ripple of light up from the bookshop all the way to the town hall in the village square. “Wow. I haven’t seen that since I was maybe ten years old.”

  Ben shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “That’s right,” he said. “I keep forgetting that you probably know this place better than I do.”

  “It’s fun,” she admitted. “Seeing it through your eyes.”

  He placed a hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street to the inn. It was nothing more than a light touch, a small gesture from one friend to another, yet she still held her breath until they reached the curb on the other side of the street.

  He threaded his fingers through hers as they approached the steps that led to the inn’s front porch.

  “In case we have an audience,” he whispered when she stared down at their interlaced hands.

  “Right,” she said, heat coursing through her veins
. “Good move.”

  But what would his next move be? Would there be a next move? How should she react if there was? Then she spotted Pearl through the window in the door and decided someone had to make a move soon or risk blowing their cover.

  “Gran!” she whisper-shouted, nodding her head in the same direction. “She’s right inside. We should play this whole good-bye part up, you know? For her sake.” And maybe for mine.

  Ben raised a brow. “Are you suggesting a kiss good night, Doc?”

  She smiled nervously. “Would…you…be open to such a thing?”

  “For Pearl,” he said.

  She nodded. “Of course. For Pearl.” She wasn’t sure what frightened her more—if he went for it or if he rejected her.

  “Actually,” he said, “if this had been a real date, I’d have had the good night kiss all planned out. Would you like to hear how it would have gone?”

  She nodded, feeling light-headed.

  He stepped past her and over to the porch swing, where he sat down and patted the spot next to him.

  She peeked back inside the inn and saw Gran still sitting in her wheelchair, talking to Tyler at the front desk. She was definitely checking up on them, and Charlotte wasn’t ready to walk in there and tell a bold-faced lie to her beloved grandmother, not when she’d already lied through her teeth about the date in the first place.

  Charlotte took no pleasure in deceiving the woman but also didn’t want to spend the next seven weeks dodging her grandmother’s attempts at securing her betrothal to the next available Meadow Valley suitor she could find. So she followed Ben to the swing and sat beside him, heart thumping in her chest.

  “We were going to sit here, laugh at the drunk folks stumbling out of Midtown, and then I’d come up with something really romantic to say…”

  “Like what?” Charlotte blurted.

  He turned toward her and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear, his blue eyes intent on hers.

  “I’d say something like…Doc, I thought you were beautiful the moment I met you over at the stable, but I didn’t know then what I know now.”