Stella Bagwell - The Cowboy And The Debutante

By seven-thirty breakfast was over, and Anna accompanied her mother to the stables. Much to her chagrin, the first thing she saw when she entered the huge building was Miguel Chavez. He was dressed much the same as yesterday only a pair of batwing chaps had replaced the shorter chinks and rather than the straw, a brown felt hat was riding low on his forehead.

In spite of Anna’s vow to ignore the male gender, she couldn’t help but be struck by the man’s looks. He had something more than just pleasant features. There was a sensuousness about him, a blatant masculinity that made her very aware of his dark hair and skin, his broad shoulders, lean hips and long strong legs. And as she and her mother drew closer, Anna’s heart raced with foolish anticipation. Of what, she didn’t know. She only knew this man struck some sort of chord in her that she hadn’t even known she possessed.

“Good morning, Miguel,” Chloe greeted him warmly.

He turned from the horse he was saddling and nodded in greeting. “Good morning, Chloe, Anna.”

“I see you’re taking Rimrock out today,” Chloe remarked. “How’s his ankle?”

“The swelling is down and he’s had a rest for the past couple of days, so I thought I would use him today and see what happens.”

“Are you starting roundup this morning or later this week?” Chloe asked him. “I know you wanted to have everything else caught up before you began.”

Miguel inclined his head. “This morning is the beginning,” he answered. “I expect the job will take at least a week.”

Chloe glanced suggestively at Anna. “Darling, why don’t you saddle Ginger and ride along with Miguel? I’m sure he’d be glad for the extra help, and I know how much you always enjoyed roundup.”

Anna’s mouth popped open. Ride along with Miguel?

“Mother! Miguel doesn’t want to be bothered. The man has work to do.”

Chloe grimaced at her, then turned back to her foreman. “Miguel, I assure you Anna is a first-rate cowgirl. Since she started her music career, she hasn’t done much of it, but she can probably outrope and outride half the cowboys you’ll be using today.”

Miguel’s brows arched ever so slightly as his hazel eyes skittered up and down Anna’s slender figure. She was wearing black jeans and matching jacket. Beneath its opening he could see a pale pink knit shirt that clung to her breasts like an eager hand. She looked anything but a cowgirl. “Is that true, Anna?”

The way he said her name with just the faintest bit of accent made a tiny shiver race down her spine. Her gaze drifting to a pearl snap in the middle of his chest, she said, “I’m sure you know mothers are biased.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and tapped the toe of her boot. “Miguel knows I don’t exaggerate. But if you’d rather not go, you can stay here and help me groom a few of the yearlings.”

Groom the yearlings? Anna could already picture herself being pawed and bitten and rope-burned. Yearlings didn’t take to being spruced up, especially when it came to using clippers around their ears and nose and feet.

She was already wearing a heavy, lined jean jacket to protect her against the early-morning coolness, and she could find a pair of chaps in the tack room. Anything else she might need would be on the chuck wagon.

“No. I think I’ll saddle Ginger and head out to the roundup.” She glanced at Miguel who was still studying her with faint skepticism. “But you don’t have to wait for me, Miguel. Just tell me the area where you’ll be and I’ll catch up.”

“There’s no hurry. I have a few things to take care of here at the ranch yard before I leave. I’ll find you when I’m ready.”

To keep insisting he go on without her would be rude, Anna decided. And it was obvious he was going out of his way to please her mother. Oh, Lord, what was she letting herself in for? she wondered.

“Fine. It won’t take me long to saddle Ginger,” she told him.

Chloe chuckled softly as the two women headed on down the alleyway between the two endless rows of horse stalls. “I figured once I said ‘groom the yearlings’ you’d decide pretty quick you wanted to head out on the roundup.”

“Mother!” Anna hissed under her breath, even though they were clearly out of Miguel’s earshot. “Why did you do that to me?”

Chloe shot her daughter an innocent look. “Do what, honey?”

Anna groaned. “You know what! You practically threw me at that man! Mother, he isn’t Lester!”

“No. He certainly isn’t. He’s far younger and a lot better looking, don’t you think?”

Sighing, Anna shook her head with disbelief. “If you’re trying to do a bit of matchmaking here, Mother, you need to open your eyes and see Miguel Chavez is at least ten years older than me. Probably more.”

Chloe’s green eyes twinkled mischievously. “So what does age have to do with anything? Besides, I’m not doing any sort of matchmaking. Why would I be, when you keep insisting you’re off men forever?”

The two of them had reached Ginger’s stall. Anna reached for the nylon lead rope hanging on the outside of the door.

“Mother, you’re being deliberately obtuse and you know it.”

“Oh, Lord, Anna, you’re being overly sensitive, aren’t you? I merely thought you’d enjoy going on roundup today. It’s your first week back home. I want you to loosen up and quit all this fretting about trivial things.”

Trivial! Her reaction to Miguel Chavez was anything but trivial, Anna thought as she watched her mother’s swinging stride carry her on to the tack room. But she would deal with it, she told herself fiercely. She wasn’t about to let the man ruin her much-needed vacation.

Twenty minutes later Anna was ready and waiting with her paint mare outside the horse barn. She’d found a pair of fringed chaps she used to wear during her teenaged days when she’d helped her mother gallop the racehorses. Anna had added on a bit of weight since that time, but she managed to zip the tan leather around her legs. Hopefully once she had them on for a while, the leather would stretch. In any case, she wouldn’t ride in the brush without chaps. She knew from experience what a patch of prickly pear or choya cactus could do to a person’s unprotected legs.

She was doing a few squats, trying to gain her legs a bit of breathing space when a male voice suddenly sounded behind her.

“Are you doing your morning aerobics or trying to teach Ginger a new trick?”

Gasping with surprise, Anna whirled around to see Miguel standing a few feet away, a sorrel quietly waiting beside his shoulder

“Oh!” Lifting her chin, she tugged at the hem of her jacket but it was far too short to hide anything. “I...uh, these are my old chaps and I’ve grown a little since I last had them on.”

The grin on his face deepened, and Anna could feel her cheeks getting redder. This wasn’t the way she wanted to start her day. She’d left one lecherous man behind. Yet here she was looking at another one as though he was the grandest thing to come along since sliced bread. She wished she could kick herself.

“You must have been a skinny little thing,” he observed.

His eyes slid pointedly up and down the length of her, and Anna had never felt so stripped and naked in all her life. Which was crazy. She was covered with several layers of clothing!

Desperate to put a halt to the whole ridiculous encounter, Anna tossed the reins over Ginger’s head and swung herself up and into the saddle.

“Don’t worry. The wind won’t blow me off if I gallop.”

A nylon lariat was coiled around her saddle horn, and a slicker and saddle bags were tied to the skirt of the saddle. If she was a greenhorn she was doing a good job of faking it. Still, Miguel found it hard to believe the soft slender woman sitting astride the paint was little more than a flighty musician, a pampered debutante.

Whether Miss Anna Sanders was capable of being a cowgirl or not, Miguel would grit his teeth and put up with her today. For Chloe’s sake. But tomorrow she’d be on her own. He was a ranch foreman, not a baby-sitter or social director.

“That’s good to know, Anna. Hopefully we won’t have to gallop.”

Bemused, Anna watched him swing up into the sorrel’s saddle. Was the man insulting her, teasing her, or was he actually serious? His smooth expression left her without a clue.

The two of them eased their mounts out of the ranch yard, past the last of the cattle pens, then east toward the river.

Anna said nothing as she rode stirrup to stirrup with Miguel Chavez. But her lack of conversation wasn’t a personal affront to the man. When she was riding the range, she was always entranced by the sights and sounds around her. And it had been so long since she’d been out of doors, away from the pressures of her job.

“Your sister, Ivy, rarely rides whenever she’s home. I don’t believe she feels very safe around horses.”

She glanced at him. “You’ve met Ivy?”

He nodded. “She’s more like her father, I think.”

Anna smiled briefly. “I expect so. Daddy never had an affinity for horseflesh.”

“Your father is a very good man.”

It pleased her to know this man appreciated her family. “Yes. Very.”

The two of them crossed the stirrup-deep river, then headed toward the base of the mountain. As they rode, Anna stole glimpses of Miguel Chavez from the corner of her eye. He rose with the ease of a man long accustomed to the saddle, and as she covertly studied him, she couldn’t help but think of all her mother had said about him yesterday.

He’d been married once. A long time ago. And he didn’t date. Why? Anna wondered. It couldn’t be for a lack of willing females. She suspected the man could crook his finger at most any woman, and she’d come running. Except herself, of course.

“Do you have a family, Miguel?”

“Not around here. My mother lives in Mexico. My father passed away several years ago.”

He looked at her as though he found her questions intrusive, and Anna decided she would bite off her tongue before she asked him anything more.

“And I’m not married,” he added. “Nor do I want to be. Surely your mother has already told you that.”

Anna very nearly gasped at his remark. Did he actually think she was so desperately interested in him she’d resort to discussing him with her mother? She’d never encountered such arrogance.

Still, the bitter look on his face bothered her. She hadn’t meant to pry into his private life. Nor was it a good idea to know all that much about the man. But she wanted to know, and that was the most disturbing part of it all.

Several long minutes passed without so much as a glance from her. Miguel’s gaze fell to her left hand resting against her thigh. There was no ring of engagement or marriage. Though he didn’t know exactly how old she was. He thought he’d remembered someone saying the twins were twenty-four or -five. Not that old as far as age goes, but certainly old enough to be married.

The idea put a dour look on Miguel’s face. Women of Anna’s status rarely needed or wanted a man around their neck. And when they did make the mistake of marrying, it always ended disastrously. When he’d first met Charlene, she’d been young and rich, just like Anna. And he’d been a hopeless fool to think he could keep her happy.

“You haven’t gotten the urge to marry?”

She turned a shocked glare on him. “Who’s been talking about me?”

Her odd reaction caused Miguel to study her for long moments. “I don’t repeat or listen to gossip, Anna. I know nothing about your marital status. I was merely making conversation.”