Free One Stubborn Cowboy by Barbara McMahon Page A

He started the truck and backed out to the street. The ride home was as silent as the ride to Stanton had been. Kelly wondered why he'd invited her along. He hadn't said much to her and he could have told her about the pony while they were in front of Beth's store.
    Kelly didn't understand the silence. But even more she didn't understand the rising tension in the cab. She was aware of him as she'd never been aware of a man before—his long legs not far from her on the bench seat, his broad shoulders and strong arms and hands. What would it be like to have those hands on her? He'd never touched her, except to hold her hand so tightly last Saturday it had ached for two days. And kiss her. The memory of his kiss in her hallway flashed through her, the way his body had leaned against hers, the heat of his muscles, the hard ridge of his arousal. Had he wanted more than a kiss? How could she let him know she might want more herself?
    Her face flamed and she stuck her hand out the window to divert some of the rushing air into the cab, to cool her down. If possible. The air was as hot as she was. Would he kiss her again? Or was that only for show, to prove something to Althea Kendricks?
    "Did Althea leave yet?" she asked as they drew near Taylorville. She was glad she was almost home. What if she did something stupid? Like run her hand down his thigh, brush her fingers through the small openings between the buttons of his shirt, knock his hat off to feel his thick hair?
    "No." The word was short, harsh.
    "Oh." Had he seen her again since the dance? She clenched her hands into fists.
    "She called Sally to talk. Don't ask me why, she's years older than Sally and they were never friends. But she's staying in town for a while, at her folks'."
    She studied him as he drove. His lips were drawn into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. Was it from the glare of the sun, or in anger at Althea? He must know she'd called Sally to let him know she was staying. What was Althea doing? Had Althea decided Kit was the man for her after all and come back to get him?
    "So we continue pretending?" Kelly asked hesitantly. Or had Saturday night been enough to salvage his pride?
    He flicked her a quick glance and nodded. "We continue."
    She smiled and settled back on the seat, quietly satisfied. The situation was dangerous. She was already far more interested in this cowboy than she should be. She felt protective toward him and he didn't need it. She felt indignant on his behalf at the way Althea had behaved. And she ached for the freedom and way of life he'd lost with the accident.
    But there was nothing to pity in the man. There was excitement, enchantment and exhilaration being with him. And danger. Danger to her heart and her own peace of mind. Kelly tried never to kid herself. It hadn't worked as a child, it wouldn't work as an adult. She could help Kit out. But that was as far as it would go. No matter how much she might wish for more.
    "Why did you agree to help me, Kelly?" he asked softly.
    She stared at him, not wanting to confess the real reason. She carefully thought out her words. "Well, I guess as a lark." She would never have considered herself a femme fatale, someone to score off another woman. That held immense appeal. "And I guess because I don't like to be beholden to anyone. You're going to take me to see the black pony. If I can help you out, we'll be sort of even."
    He nodded at her words but didn't respond. Devastation seared him. As a lark. Damn, Althea had been right. Women wouldn't want anything to do with a scarred cripple. Kelly was helping him out as a lark, just for fun. When Althea left, Kelly would forget him as fast as they'd met.
    He pulled in to her driveway and stopped.
    "Thanks for the ride and the ice cream," she said, putting her hand on his arm.
    "Any time," he said, feeling her touch pierce straight through to his heart. He wanted to pull her into his arms, make the day's heat fade in contrast to the fire roiling