Free Have Cowboy, Need Cupid by Rita Herron Page A

Harold Landon.
    Rafe finished stacking the supplies, then loaded the extras in the back of that gaudy purple pickup truck and headed back to the farmhouse for dinner. His stomach growled, a reminder he’d skipped lunch. He only hoped Maria’s cooking was better than her laundry skills.
    Surely Suzanne Hartwell was gone by now.
    But as he drove up, he saw her walking toward her convertible, a smile on her face as she waved to his mother. His mother looked refreshed and pleased as punch.
    Why was Suzanne Hartwell getting all chummy with his mother?
    “Hi, Rafe.”
    “Hey.” He glanced at his mother who was overflowing with good spirits, then glared at Suzanne. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”
    “I guess the day got away from me.”
    “I invited her to stay for supper, but she said she’s meeting her sister,” his mother called. “We had the nicest visit, Rafe. Did you know Suzanne can cook? She told me about this chocolate layer cake, and I just have to try it.”
    Oh, great, he was in big trouble now. According to his mother, anyone who had half a brain in the kitchen was wife material. Although he was surprised Suzanne could cook; he’d pegged her as more of the eat-out type.
    “And I showed her how to crochet. She’s never done it before.”
    Suzanne Hartwell crocheting? “Glad you two had a nice visit.” He strode past Suzanne, ignoring the way his body hardened at the mere sight of those dark eyes raking over him. She’d probably never seen a man come home filthy and sweaty and covered in dust from a hard day’s work.
    “Thanks for the tea and cookies, and for showing me those basic crochet stitches,” Suzanne said.
    “It was my pleasure, dear. Come back to see us,” his mother chirped. “You’re welcome anytime.”
    “Actually, I have another riding lesson tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you then.”
    Oh, Lord. He’d forgotten about that.
    She offered him a smile, and he tipped his head down toward her, his Stetson riding low on his head. “Yeah, tomorrow we’ll finish what we started today.”
    She arched a brow, and he realized she might have mistaken his words.
    “By the end of the week, you’ll see things my way,” he said to clarify his meaning. “Then you’ll jump on the bandwagon in town and help us get rid of that developer.”
    A small frown twitched at her forehead, but she smiled and climbed into her sports car. “We’ll see,” she said, then waved goodbye.
    He glared at the car as it barreled down the drive. Old mistrusts rose like a hawk breathing down his neck. Cecilia had seemed nice, too. She’d even played up to his mother. But she’d set him up to make her rich boyfriend jealous, and Rafe had suffered one of the worst beatings of his life when her little act had worked.
    He’d learned a very good but painful lesson that day.
    Suzanne Hartwell did not seem like the type to sit at home and entertain his mother. And he certainly couldn’t imagine her crocheting sweaters or baking cookies.
    Just what was she up to?

    T OMORROW WE’LL FINISH what we started today.
    The evening breeze caressed Suzanne’s face as she drove toward town. For a minute she had thought Rafe was implying something else. But she should have realized he hadn’t. Although she detected that spark of desire in his eyes when he’d spotted her.
    So, why had he acted so cool, so detached, as if he resented the fact that she’d stayed and befriended his mother?
    She parked in front of Rebecca’s former apartment, grateful her sister hadn’t leased it to anyone else yet, so she wouldn’t have to drive back to the city tonight. Before she met Rebecca for dinner, she desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes. She smelled like horses and hay. It reminded her of Rafe.
    What was he doing right now? Would he eat dinner with his mother, then head to the Dusty Pub? Would he meet up with another woman and spend the night in her arms?
    The thought irked her, although she knew she had