Sweet Talking Cowboy Read online

  Sweet Talking Cowboy

  by M.B. Buckner

  Text copyright © 2013 M.B. Buckner

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author and publisher, nor may it be stored in the form of a phonographic recording; or in any other way copied for public or private use except in the case of brief quotations not to exceed 250 words embodied in book reviews.

  The names of people and places appearing in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed to represent any person living or dead in any way. This book is a work of fiction and is intended to be used only for the purpose of entertainment and is not to be exchanged, traded, shared, or used by anyone other than the person who purchased the right to download it to an electronic reading device.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful family for their patience, support and love. To my husband, Sonny, my best friend, my lover, my husband, the father of my children and the one person I know I can count on for encouragement and understanding.

  To our children; I’m so proud of you and hope you will always have the freedom to spread your wings and fly.

  And to my sister Peggy; I love you and hope you don’t mind me borrowing the nickname I stuck you with when I was a child. Like you, Poog, in the following story is a warm, loving woman who knows that no one is perfect and loves without judgment and without conditions.

  Table of Contents

  Text copyright © 2013 M.B. Buckner

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Sweet Talking Cowboy

  by M. B. Buckner

  Chapter 1

  Briann De Angelo stood looking out the window of the hospital room, down at the paved parking lot five floors below where she stood. The neat rows of multi-colored vehicles reminded her of the rows of flowers her father planted in the field beside the highway, the spring before he died. Her mother had been sick the entire winter and she’d been talking about how gray everything looked. Briann knew he’d planted them to brighten her mother’s days, but neither of them lived to see the flowers bloom. They’d died when a drunk driver swerved into their lane of traffic coming home from a trip to the doctor’s office. That had been almost fifteen years ago and it had been in this same hospital she’d learned they hadn’t survived. Now, here she was again waiting to have a doctor confirm information just as devastating.

  The sun had been shining when she arrived here two hours ago, but now clouds had darkened the sky and the first few drops of rain were beginning to splatter atop the vibrant field of automobiles parked below in the parking lot. A flash of anger and the sudden lurching of her heart were an instant reaction as she recognized the familiar figure crossing the parking lot, his long stride carrying him on starched, creased, Wrangler clad legs as he tried to beat the rain and make it under the shelter of the hospital before his grey felt Tony Lama western hat got wet. From a distance, not much had changed about him. She’d pushed the pain of his betrayal out of her heart, but all it took was a glimpse of him to resurrect that hurt. The hurt and the anger.

  Briann hadn’t thought she’d recognize him so easily, but there was no doubt in her mind it was him. Glancing around, she wished for someplace to hide, but a weak, gravelly voice behind her spoke her name. Uncle Mike was awake! Briann pasted a smile on her face and turned to walk closer to the bed where his shriveled body lay. He sounded so tired. The antiseptic smell of the room had long since permeated her nostrils and as a result, she felt the beginning of a headache. She hated the odor of hospitals, but in spite of that, she was thankful for the relief Uncle Mike would receive while he was here.

  “It’s time you woke up, sleepy head.” She jokingly scolded him as she leaned over to place a kiss on his pale forehead.

  “Where’s Poog?" he asked, his voice revealing how weak he was. Briann cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the knot threatening to close it completely.

  “Dr. Franks asked the preacher’s wife to take her home. She looked exhausted and we don’t need her sick too.” She didn’t tell him Dr. Franks had to promise Aunt Poog that Uncle Mike would be resting for the next few hours before she agreed to leave. Aunt Poog was reluctant to go, even though she’d been at his side since they’d admitted him to the hospital yesterday morning.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, lifting one hand to tug gently at a strand of the dark brown hair that had worked its way free of severe knot on the back of her head, and insisted on falling across her shoulder as she continued to lean over him. “This must be bad….to get you down here….from Atlanta.”

  Knitting her brows at him, her brown eyes sparkling with meticulously restrained tears, she managed a weak smile. “I’ve been planning to come home for a while, Uncle Mike. I put my place up for sale months ago, but you coming to the hospital was just the excuse I needed to turn it over to a realtor and come on home.”

  A weak smile tilted the corners of his lips as he watched her face with loving eyes. “Liar. I’m not afraid of……facing facts. I realize better…….than Gerald Franks how fast my…….clock is ticking.” He paused to rest for a minute before he continued. “I’m not afraid and…..I don’t mind going…. I just hate leaving Poog……and you and Slade.”

  Knowing he’d always hated any form of placating, she stroked his cheek gently with one hand. “You know we’ll be fine. Listing my place in Atlanta with a realtor was the best thing I’ve done in a long time. I’m home to stay. It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

  He smiled, managing to nod his head weakly. “It’ll help Poog… to have your little girl around… to keep her busy.” Finally he asked, “Have you told Slade?”

  “Told Slade what?” A smooth baritone voice spoke from the door and Briann’s face blanched; her heart lurched and threatened to close her throat. She could hardly breathe.

  Reading the truth on her panicked face, the old man stretched out one weak hand toward the man who’d entered the room but ignored his question.

  As the man approached the bed, Briann turned away and moved back to the window, trying desperately to regain control of her seditious body. After all this time, after his betrayal, she refused to allow any part of her, heart, mind or body to find anything the least bit interesting about Slade Butler!

  She couldn’t help hearing them talking softly in the background, and occasionally felt the probing look of the man who now leaned over Uncle Mike. She’d always known when Slade looked at her. It was like a physical touch. She wasn’t sure how long she could stand rooted in place, undergoing that caressing perusal. Then the gentle movement of air caught her attention as the door whooshed open and Dr. Gerald Franks spoke her name.

  She turned, a smile lifting the sides of her mouth, her white teeth sparkling between her lips and walked across the room to almost disappear in the hug of the large physician who’d known her all her life.

  “Sweet Jesus!” he gasped, squeezing her tightly, “I couldn’t imagine anyone getting any prettier than you were, but look at you! You take my breath away!” He held her away from him and looked at her again. “I can’t believe it! You look just like your mother when she was your age!”

  Briann realized how her face had pinked and then became even darker pink as Dr. Franks kept his arm around her, pulling her with him as he stepped forward to greet big the man standing beside the bed.

  “It’s good to see you too, Slade. H
ave you ever seen anybody as gorgeous as this girl?” The doctor shook the swarthy hand, completely unaware of the tension suddenly filling the room.

  “Never have,” was the soft reply, and again Briann sensed his eyes on her. She refused to look up at him, wishing she could avoid being anywhere near him, but knowing under the circumstances that was not possible.

  “Looks like…old home day,” Mike Hudson said from the bed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Glad I.. I could bring about …. this little get-together.”

  Now Gerald Franks became Dr. Franks and released Briann, stepped past Slade Butler to the bedside of his patient. Once he finished a brief examination of his patient, he turned and looked at the uncomfortable couple behind him. “Could I get you two to step outside for a few minutes? My nurse is coming in with a cart and we’re going to be busy here for a little bit.”

  As he spoke, the door opened and the nurse arrived, propelling a metal cart mounted with a large electronic medical device.

  Briann walked quickly out the door, hoping to make it safely to the ladies room down the hall, so maybe she could delay facing Slade Butler. She barely avoided another cart being pushed by an orderly and dodged a couple of people entering the hallway from another room right near Uncle Mike’s. The bathroom was only a few steps away and she was sure if she slipped inside she could stay there and avoid having to face Slade today, but she heard his booted steps drawing closer.

  Like a vise she felt a hand closing on her arm, just above her elbow and the touch alone was enough to tell her it was him. She didn’t turn her head, but tried to jerk her arm free, unsuccessfully. His steps brought him even with her and when she would have ducked into the bathroom; his body blocked her and propelled her on further down the hall. She felt helpless to rid herself of his touch, but not because she was afraid of him. Briann had never feared Slade, merely her own a response to him. Several people were seated inside the first waiting room so he guided her on until he found another one that appeared empty. He closed the door behind them, and released his grip on her arm.

  “Good to see you, Bri.” He said quietly. The words came from his heart. He couldn’t imagine anyone else ever looking so good to him.

  She ignored him and crossed the room to face the big window, her back to him and the rest of the room. As she watched the falling rain drops burst against the window pane, she heard his boots on the floor as he moved around the small waiting room. In a minute he was at her elbow, a cup of steaming black coffee extended to her. She hesitated for a minute, but the smell was so good, she accepted it, making sure her fingers didn’t touch his in the exchange.

  “Thanks.” She muttered.

  “When did you get here?” He asked, moving back to settle into one of the straight-backed chairs that are a part of every waiting room in every hospital in the country. There was so much more he wanted to ask her, but he knew she was in flight or fight mode and didn’t want to make her feel crowded.

  “A little while ago.” She didn’t turn as she spoke and kept her back to him, but with the clouds having darkened the sky as dark as night; she found it hard to ignore his reflection in the window. He looked a little older, a bit harder, but every bit as strong physically as he’d ever been and unfortunately, still as attractive. She was so afraid he’d ask questions she wasn’t prepared for, she decided to steer the conversation away from her. “How’s your dad?”

  “Hank’s still Hank. I doubt he’ll ever change. Tanya’s keepin’ him busy travelin’ and when they’re home, it’s at a condo over on Jacksonville Beach. Jeffery married a woman just like his mother and has his headquarters in downtown Jacksonville now. He’s very successful. Hank comes out to the ranch a couple of times a month to make sure I’m not lettin’ the place get run-down. And just to help me remember my place, I suppose, Tanya shows up at the house occasionally. I think she wants to make sure I don’t move in there, as if she’d ever have to worry about that.” His voice still had the distinctive, Texas drawl that had always set him apart from everyone else, even here in North Florida, where the locals had their own drawl.

  Slade sensed her nervousness and didn’t want to upset her any more than Mike’s illness already had, so he hoped to keep the conversation between them neutral.

  The silence stretched across the room, growing until it threatened the tension sharing the same space.

  “Where’s Poog?" he finally asked.

  “Home. Gerald had to make her go. He’s worried about her.”

  In the window, she saw him lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes focused on the coffee cup in one hand. “Poog’ll be alright. It hurts her, seeing Mike this sick, because she knows how much he hates the weakness,” he said.

  “She said, Gerald told her not to expect him to go home again. He can’t last over a few days.” Briann was speakingto herself as much as to Slade. Knowing Uncle Mike wouldn’t be coming home from the hospital again was something she hadn’t come to terms with herself and her restraint showed in the tight control she exercised in her flat voice and shackled emotions.

  “I was sorry for what you were going through when I heard you lost your husband. I’m sure that was a bad time,” he hesitantly offered what condolences he could. He hoped his resentment of the man wasn’t obvious. When he’d heard she was married he’d stayed drunk for almost a month, but it was during that time that he’d finally learned she was living in Atlanta. He’d been tempted to go up there and find her, even if she was married to another man, but Mike helped him understand that they both had to live with the choices they made. Nothing he could do would make things any better. Briann had made a choice for her life and Slade just had to let it be.

  She nodded. “Thank you.” It came out stiff and chilled, but she couldn’t help it.

  You leavin’ after the funeral?” He sensed she was observing his reflection in the window and looked into her reflection to meet her eyes. She looked away swiftly.

  Hoping to avoid the question, she glanced at her watch and sighed deeply. “What is taking so long?”

  “It’s only been a few minutes, Bri. Relax.”

  “Don’t call me that!” Briann snapped. Slade was the only one who had ever called her Bri and hearing him say it again after all the years that had passed evoked memories she didn’t want to remember. He’d only used in in moments of passion and she couldn’t let herself think about those moments.

  “I’ve kinda gotten used to thinkin’ of you as Bri. It’d be hard to start callin’ you anything else. I guess you’ll just have to endure it.” Slade sat back in the chair again, crossing one booted foot over his other knee, one finger scraping absently at a blemish in the stiffly starched denim of his pants leg. He didn’t care if she was uncomfortable. In fact, he found it interesting to know his presence still had that power. His eyes took in every detail of her back and her long hair pinned up into that blasted knot on the back of her head made his fingers itch. He wanted nothing more than to pull the pins out and see if those rich brown, silken strands would still make the long, thick braid that used to hang between her shoulders. “I’ve got a colt you’d like. He’s by that stud your daddy had when…before the accident.”

  For the first time, she turned to face him, her brown eyes meeting his pale ones steadily. “You’ve got a colt by Flash?”

  He nodded. “Mike had a few straws of semen frozen before the old horse died and I had my best mare artificially bred with one of them. My colt’s a two-year old now. I think he’s got the old horse’s temperament. Got his color too. Deepest red I’ve ever seen. When the sun hits him, he looks like he’s on fire.” When he spoke of his horse, pride sparked in his pale eyes. “He’s gonna make a hell of a reining horse.”

  Realizing she was lowering her guard, Briann turned back to face the window. “That’s nice. You always liked Flash.” Horses were one subject they needed to avoid, she decided. Horses had been the base of every memory of Slade. They’d both spent their lives involved with horses and
that shared interest might lead to open conversations and unguarded moments. Moments she couldn’t afford.

  He stood up and walked over to stand behind her, his eyes catching hers in the window. Fingers twitching to pull out those damned pins holding her hair back, Slade’s nostrils flared, eagerly pulling in the smell of her. He struggled to keep from pulling her into his arms. He ached to hold her again. “How’re you doin’, Bri?” His voice was low, its coarseness caressing her ears gently, producing memories of his warm breath feathering against her flesh.

  “I’m fine.” Briann didn’t care if her voice sounded snippy. This was much too close! She slipped to the side and walked over to settle in a chair setting alone against one wall, next to a table. Now he couldn’t invade her space, but his scent had already invaded her senses. Her blood was heating up and her heart was racing like crazy. How, after all this time, could he have this effect on her?

  Slade turned as she moved away, his pale eyes following her graceful stride with interest, a smile tipping his lips, causing the grooves at the corners of his mouth to deepen. The easy movement of her dress pants shifting across her buttocks as Briann walked caused an uncomfortable stirring deep inside him. “You should come see my colt. I’ve been on him a couple of times and he’s real athletic.” He looked out the window quickly hoping to distract his own wayward thoughts, but his eyes were drawn to her reflection.

  She tried to look bored, her eyes scanning the tips of her fingernails, but she didn’t manage to pull it off. “I seriously doubt that will happen.”

  Slade considered her image as she crossed one leg over the other, the leg of the brown slacks, pulling tight across the knee, the ankle at the end of her crossed leg jerking nervously. He walked back to the chair he’d been setting in before and looked at it for a measured second, before turning and settling his big frame into it again. He had contemplated pulling the chair over next to her chair, if only to find out what she’d do, but decided against the idea.