A Love to Call Her Own by Marilyn Pappano Read Free Book Online Page A

immediately realized, with them crossed. “I didn’t want it to get dusty.”
    â€œYou like taking pictures of scrub and weeds?”
    â€œNo, I was photographing the wildflowers—” Realizing they probably were weeds to a rancher, she broke off. “Actually, I stopped to take pictures of the cows over there. The one in front is a pretty girl. She liked posing for the camera.”
    He glanced to the right, and this time it was obvious he was controlling a smile. She hadn’t yet seen him smile, but she would bet it was worth preserving with a close-up glossy. “Don’t tell his owners. They paid good money for the calves they’re going to get from him.”
    She was coming off lame and dumb. Heat crept up her neck and into her face, but she managed a careless shrug. “What do I know? Once you put them in little foam containers, they all look alike.”
    â€œSupermarket beef.” He gave a shake of his head. “I haven’t eaten beef from a grocery store in…well, ever that I can recall.”
    â€œYeah, well, I haven’t butchered something I’ve raised since birth and served it up for dinner.”
    â€œThat’s the way of the world. Sometimes you eat. Sometimes you get eaten.”
    Halfheartedly she looked for another vehicle so he would have to move on, but it wasn’t likely. She’d driven the country roads around Tallgrass for hours and learned that two cars constituted heavy traffic. Anyway, somewhere inside, a small traitorous part of her was sort of enjoying the conversation, though she wasn’t sure how that could be. How many times had she hoped never to see him again? How many times had she thought it would be best if they could treat each other as complete strangers? How often had she desperately wished they’d never met?
    Not as often as she should have. Yeah, she’d been shameless. Yeah, he’d seen her obnoxious, drunk, and naked. Yeah, he’d had obvious regrets, and she did, too.
    But there was something about Dalton Smith…
    * * *
    â€œYou like Herefords?”
    It wasn’t the smoothest question a man could ask a woman, Dalton acknowledged, but it wasn’t just his people skills that had grown rusty over the years. Hell, when the only creatures he talked to five out of seven days a week had four legs, it was easy to get out of practice with the art of conversation.
    Jessy blinked those emerald green eyes once before glancing at the “pretty cow” in the pasture. “Is that what the red-and-white ones are?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThey’re pretty.”
    Pretty tasty, too. He kept that to himself. “You ever seen a Belted Galloway?”
    She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Since I don’t have a clue what it is, I’m gonna say no.”
    Maybe cows weren’t the best topic of conversation, but it was a subject he could discuss, apparently, with anyone. Even a delicate little city girl who couldn’t tell a bull from a heifer. “It’s a breed of cattle. Mostly black with a white band around the middle, though I know a guy who has a few red-and-white ones. That’s what I raise, them and palominos.”
    He’d swear her ears literally perked up. “You raise horses?”
    â€œYeah. The girls are very pretty. You can—” Realizing what he’d been about to say, he clamped his jaw shut. Invite her to his house? Just because he’d had that thought last night about getting back to a normal life? Because she’d gotten under his skin in that one afternoon and made him remember what it felt like to be alive?
    Because she was the only woman he’d thought twice about since Sandra. And yeah, because she’d gotten under his skin that afternoon.
    She was watching him warily, her eyes shadowed, reminding him that he hadn’t treated her the way he’d been taught to treat women. He’d walked out on her