Rachel's Cowboy by Judy Christenberry Page A

Maybe he should hold back, not press her now. He didn’t know what to do. He was having trouble thinking clearly.
    With a sigh, he pushed himself away from the counter and headed for his bedroom and a restless night.
     
    R ACHEL WOKE UP EARLY the next morning. Her muscles ached once again, but she slid out of bed and immediately began stretching. At the same time, her mind was working over the events of the day before and her sister’s phone call.
    Why hadn’t she realized she could return to Dallas and gain the weight she needed there, with her sisters? She was no longer sick and therefore had no reason to stay away from the mothers-to-be. Had Madge lied to her? Why?
    She hated even thinking such a thing about Madge. The woman had been so kind to her, praising everything she did. No, Rachel couldn’t think that of Madge. Maybe she was afraid Rachel would go back to work too soon if she was in Dallas.
    And that could be true.
    Here, so far from the rush of life in the city, it was easy to think she had plenty of time. In Dallas, she would be reminded of the passing weeks, her lack of preparation for the future.
    What should she do?
    Finally, Rachel was stretched out enough to pull on her jeans and boots, along with a plaid shirt. She braided her hair down her back and put cream on her face. Then she went to the kitchen for breakfast.
    “Good morning, Madge,” she said with a smile.
    “Morning, Rachel. How do you feel this morning?”
    “Pretty good, thanks to you.”
    “Good. Have a seat. Your breakfast is ready.”
    Rachel slid into a chair and Madge put a plateful of bacon, scrambled eggs and buttered toast before her.
    “I can’t eat this much breakfast, Madge. You must’ve thought I was J.D.,” she said with a laugh.
    “No, honey, but I didn’t want you to have any doubt about my wanting you to be fully recovered.” Madge looked at her and Rachel nodded.
    “I did think that for a minute or two until I realized that if I went back to Dallas, I might give in to the pressure to go back to work before I should.” With a sigh, Rachel added, “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right. But I truly was thinking about what was best for you.”
    “I know.” After she’d eaten all she could, Rachel pushed away the plate, still half-full. “I can’t eat anymore. Do you think J.D. will come in looking for more food?”
    “Probably. That boy is a bottomless pit.”
    There was a knock on the back door. With a frown, Madge crossed to the door. Then she opened it. “Billy? Is something wrong?”
    “No, Miz Madge. J.D. sent me to give Miz Rachel her lesson.”
    Madge led Billy into the kitchen. “Rachel, this is Billy. J.D. sent him to give you your lesson this morning.”
    “How—how nice of you, Billy. Did J.D. have an emergency?”
    “No, ma’am, I don’t think so. Are you ready?”
    “Yes, of course.” After glancing at Madge and receiving a look of concern in return, Rachel preceded Billy out the door.
    The next hour dragged by for her. The lesson lacked the excitement she’d felt when she’d been under J.D.’s eye. She missed him. Why had he sent Billy in his place? She still held hope that something important had come up, that he would be her tutor tomorrow.
    When the session was over, she gave Billy a stiffsmile and turned to go back to the house. But he didn’t accept the dismissal. “J.D. instructed me to see you back to the house no matter what you said. He said you’d pretend not to be sore.”
    “I see. That’s very nice of you, Billy.”
    She refused his assistance, but he strode along beside her, watching her carefully. Which meant that Rachel couldn’t relax and limp to the house.
    As soon as Billy left her at the door, she headed for the nearest chair. “Just kill me now, Madge, and put me out of my misery.”
    “Worse than yesterday?” she asked, sympathy in her voice.
    “Yes, much worse. Billy is nice, but…he has no sense of humor. He doesn’t tease me into believing I can