Read One Stubborn Cowboy for Free Online

his slow way to her house. Her heart went out to him as he moved carefully along the uneven walkway. Afraid one or the other crutch would not find a secure place, afraid he'd fall, she hovered alongside, watching the path and Kit, hoping her reflexes would be fast enough.
    He stopped abruptly and looked down at her.
    "I can manage fine if you'll stop dithering around me. What do you think you're going to do if I fall? Cushion the blow? You certainly couldn't hold me up."
    "I was trying to help," she snapped, stalking ahead. "Don't call me if you fall on your face and don't yell and bother the neighbors." She flounced up the three steps to her porch and opened the door. Glancing back briefly she added, "And I'm very strong."
    She went down her hall to the kitchen, switching on lights so Kit could find his way. Her temper boiled again. Dithering! She had not been dithering. Was it so wrong to want to help?
    Flinging her sketch pad on the table, Kelly filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. Kit came in slowly and sank onto one of her chairs, his crutches clattering loudly to the floor.
    Kelly jumped and turned to glare at him, knowing he'd done it deliberately. She was as nervous around him as a girl being asked to a prom. Then she smiled. If she were pleasant, it would throw him off guard, make him mad. "I have some cake. Would you care for some?"
    "No, just coffee'll be fine." Taking off his hat, Kit put it on the chair beside him, running his fingers through his thick hair. He fingered the sketch pad, pulling it over and ruffling through it. Closing it, he tossed it carelessly aside. Kelly was piqued when he made no comment on the drawings, but refused to show it.
    The silence stretched out awkwardly.
    "How did you hurt yourself?" Kelly asked at last.
    He looked up, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't hurt myself. I became paralyzed from a bull," he stated clearly.
    She poured the hot water over the coffee grounds and waited while it dripped. She wondered what the bull had been doing and why Kit hadn't gotten out of the way.
    "Both legs?" she asked, her eyes on the coffee slowly filling the carafe.
    "Partially. That's the only reason I can maneuver with the crutches. Otherwise I'd be confined to that damned wheelchair all the time."
    "Frustrating, I bet." She was careful to keep all signs of sympathy from her voice.
    "Are you Mrs. Freud?"
    "No, but you look like an active, physical man. The limitation must be frustrating."
    Kelly looked down at her hands, wondering at the desire she had to smooth the lines of pain from his face, thread her fingers through his thick, springy hair and hold him close for comfort. He was the last man in the world to want comfort. Especially from her. Yet she wanted to give it.
    She swirled around and saw the coffee was ready. Her hands shook slightly as she poured it, and she hoped he didn't notice.
    "Do you raise cattle on your ranch?" She strove for a neutral topic, something they could discuss without the tension and strain they forged at each meeting. She didn't want to be angry anymore. She wanted to learn more about him.
    "Yeah, Herefords. We have a large herd. I do the paperwork now, Clint ramrods the cowboys."
    "How many?"
    "We've got a half dozen fellows that work for us all year long, and hire on extra when mustering for market. You interested in ranching?"
    "Just trying to learn what I can about the places around here. It's all different and new to me. I've always lived in San Francisco before."
    Kit seemed to relax in the pleasant kitchen and began talking briefly about his ranch. His short, descriptive phrases painted a practical picture of cattle ranching. Kelly was an avid listener. She wasn't shy about asking questions if he lost her, or when she wanted more information. It was a fascinating way of life, especially to one born and raised in the city.
    He drained his cup and set it down. Reaching for his hat, he looked at her.
    "Thanks for the coffee."
    "Thanks for seeing me home,"