Gentling the Cowboy by Ruth Cardello Page B

night with a cowboy. I’m an author researching my first novel.
    She stopped at the mirror at the bottom of the stairs and blushed at the burning desire evident in her eyes. I should try to look cool and unattainable, but all I can think is . . .
    Bring on the research.
     
     
    Sarah straightened her shoulders and headed into the living room to call Charlie. She picked up the phone and dialed quickly. I’m an adult. He’s my brother, not my keeper. He’ll understand.
    “Charles Dery, please.”
    “I’ll put you right through,” his secretary said, so cheerfully Sarah wanted to smack her.
    “Hello?” The male voice was crisp and impatient.
    This trip was all about finding her voice—in her writing and in her life. She cleared her throat and said, “Charlie, it’s Sarah.”
    “It’s about time you called.” His voice boomed through the line. “Mom and Dad are worried sick. You were supposed to call when you got in. What happened yesterday? We called Lucy and she said you’re not staying with her.”
    “It turned out that I couldn’t stay there.”
    “She said you’re at someone else’s ranch? I didn’t know you knew anyone else down there.”
    “You don’t know everything about me,” Sarah said defiantly. Thank God. Sarah covered her mouth with a shaky hand. A nervous laugh escaped. I can barely justify this to myself; Charlie would never understand.
    The hiss of his angrily indrawn breath was merely more evidence that she was correct to keep some of this trip to herself.
    “Who the hell is Anthony Carlton?” he demanded.
    “Who?” Sarah asked lamely. How does he know about Tony?
    “You must know him since you’re calling from his phone.”
    Shit. Why didn’t I block caller ID?
    “I’m fine, Charlie. You can tell Mom and Dad to relax. This trip is the best thing I’ve done in a long time. I’m actually writing again.”
    He made some noncommittal sound that spoke volumes about his disapproval. “Where is this ranch?”
    Please, please do not come here. Sarah reluctantly gave him the information. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let her go without it.
    She wanted to tell him more about what she was doing there and how it was healing her, but talking about that would mean mentioning the past—and that had always been taboo.
    Does he still blame me? Is that why he doesn’t believe I’m capable of making the simplest decisions on my own?
    Maybe I don’t deserve this second chance, but I’m going for it anyway. In Texas, I don’t have to be who I’ve always been. I don’t have to apologize for what I failed to be. Here, I’m just me. Just a woman on a journey.
    How do I make my brother see that?
    “Charlie, I need this. I know you don’t understand it, but can you give me time?”
    If you do, I may even find the courage to tell you the truth.
    “I should fly down there . . .”
    Sarah held her breath.
    “But I won’t.”
    “Thank you.”
    A flash of movement behind Sarah made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
    “I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Charlie said.
    Me, too, Sarah thought as she hung up and looked around. The living room and the hallway were empty. For a moment there she’d been convinced that someone had been watching her.
    First sex-starved, now paranoid.
    Just remember, Texas, I’m writing a romance novel, not a thriller.
    I’ll be fine with just a few weeks of memorable sex.
    No need to scare the shit out of me.
     
    This was a mistake.
    When he’d chosen Fort Mavis, he’d done so for the acreage of the ranch he’d found and not much else. He’d considered the small population of Fort Mavis, even in the town’s center, a perk. The fewer people around, the less there are to avoid. In his years of traveling to train horses all over the world, he’d forgotten the problem with small communities: Everyone knows everything. Instantly.
    Bad enough that the afternoon’s madness had been witnessed, but the amused