Must Love Cowboys by Cheryl Brooks Page A

to you, I’d rather not have to listen to any teasing from the rest of the gang. Not yet, anyway.”
    He glanced toward the door. “I’m guessing it’ll be a while before anyone decides to join us.”
    Once again, I was far more adventurous in theory than in practice. On the other hand, unless he sneaked into my room late at night, this was probably our best opportunity. I couldn’t see meeting him in the barn. For one thing, it was much too cold. “Okay, but make it quick.”
    â€œDon’t believe anyone’s ever said that to me before.” Smiling, he shoved the boxes aside and pulled me into his arms. “But I’ll do my best.”
    The kiss was better this time. Soft. Sensuous. Heady. We were even on a bed. Never having come that close to having sex in my life, I wouldn’t have been too surprised if his kisses had triggered an orgasm.
    They didn’t, of course, although his lips did make me forget the possibility of being observed.
    Until the image of Wyatt’s scowl popped into my head.
    I broke off the kiss. “Better not press our luck.”
    â€œDamn. I was just getting started.” To my surprise, he seemed a bit breathless. Had kissing me really done that to him?
    Amazing…
    Breathing quite heavily myself, I scooted sideways and slid the boxes between us. Heat flooded my cheeks as my erogenous zones screamed in protest. Swollen lips, tingling nipples, and that sexy moisture between my legs.
    He lifted the lids on the boxes and then handed one set to me. “These look like the oldest of the bunch.”
    â€œIf I know my grandfather, they’re probably in order.” Doing my best to steady my nerves without making a big show of it, I chose a letter from one end of the box and studied the envelope. “This one’s postmarked Saigon. Doubt if it would help us much.”
    Suddenly, I had no desire to read any of those letters, especially after noting the address on that first one—a missive Grandpa must’ve received while recovering from the wounds that earned him a Purple Heart. Those boxes had been in my possession for months, but beyond a quick check to verify their contents, I’d kept their lids firmly shut. Even now, when I had a valid reason to go through them, I was reluctant to do so, knowing full well how painful the task would be.
    â€œYou okay?” Dean asked. “You’ve been staring at that for a long time.”
    I glanced up. “I’m not sure I should be the one to do this.”
    He nodded as though he understood. “Too close to the recipient?”
    â€œYeah.” I turned the letter over in my hand. “I wasn’t even born when this letter was mailed. Calvin was still serving in Vietnam. The war hadn’t been lost yet. Saigon hadn’t been renamed Ho Chi Minh City. And Grandpa was in an Army field hospital in Da Nang.”
    Goose bumps prickled my skin as I spoke those last words. Grandpa had come very close to dying in that hospital. Mom had told me that much. I didn’t want to know any more.
    Dean took the letter gently from my hand. “Maybe all we need to look at are the return addresses.”
    I nodded slowly. “I can do an online search once we know where Calvin lived during a census year. The 1980 census would be best.”
    â€œThen we’ll just look for a letter with a 1980 postmark.”
    â€œOkay.” That much, I could do.
    In the end, Dean was the one who found the letter we needed. Calvin might not have been born there, but in 1980, he’d been living in Liberty, Texas. Apparently Wyatt’s ear for accents was spot-on.
    If Calvin and Grandpa were indeed the same age, Calvin would’ve been thirty-three years old then. Had his wife and kids already been killed in that accident? I caught myself staring at yet another envelope without daring to examine the contents. I knew finding Calvin’s next of kin was important, but a