Wyoming Wildflowers: The Beginning Read Online Free Page A

buttons, I do this —” She overlapped the front edges and wrapped her arms around herself.
    “You need a warm coat. You’re in Denver, not Atlanta.” That was one of the stops she’d mentioned. Of course they’d been
there
during a heat wave.
    “Only for — ” She didn’t know exactly. “- a few days.”
    “Days? You can freeze to death in hours.”
    “I’m not going to freeze to death. Look at how nice it is now.” The errant gust was gone, the night still and crisp. There were enough people on the streets to not feel isolated. Holiday decorations enlivened windows of stores and businesses.
    “It can turn not-nice real fast. It’s nearly December, and —” He gestured to the poster of a familiar red-clad figure in a nearby window. “— there’s a reason Santa wears fur.”
    She chuckled. “He doesn’t care about style, and I do. So, what brings you to Denver?”
    He raised his eyebrows. “You know, even a cowpuncher recognizes a change of subject.”
    “I’m glad he does, though I have no idea why someone would punch a cow.”
    “To get the cow to move. Though
cowpoke
’s more accurate. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone punch a cow, even if Alex Karras supposedly did it to a horse in ‘Blazing Saddles.’ ”
    “You’ve seen that movie?”
    “Yes’m. Them there talkin’ picture shows came to Wyoming a
leetle
while back now.”
    “I didn’t —” She started to apologize if he thought she’d implied his state was backward. Then she spotted mischief in his eyes. “Okay, I deserved that. Now, back to what brings you to Denver.”
    “That wasn’t to change the subject from your not having a warm coat?”
    “At first,” she admitted, and he chuckled, “but now I want to know. What brought you here?”
    “Stock.”
    “
Really
? But it’s winter.”
    He smiled. “Not your kind of stock. My kind — livestock.”
    She laughed. And found him looking at her with warmth, approval, appreciation, and something more. He struck her as someone more inclined to smile than laugh, yet he enjoyed her laughing as much as she enjoyed it herself.
    “How egocentric, thinking stock meant summer stock theater and how snobby, being surprised there’d be any here. Especially since I grew up in Indiana, not exactly a hot bed of theater.”
    “Well, what I’m here for
is
a stock show. But nothing like what you do.”
    “You know about summer stock theater?”
    “I’ve seen a black and white movie or two on TV.”
    “Ah, Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney,” she said wisely.
    “My primary resource for information on the theater.”
    “Then you can’t blame me for basing my ranch knowledge on ‘Bonanza’ and ‘The Big Valley.’ ”
    “Wrong century, but we don’t take much to new-fangled ways, so you’re fine.” She giggled. He smiled. “So, you’re from Indiana? Farm girl?”
    She shook her head. “Not unless you count driving past them. But tell me about this stock show. Is it a big deal?”
    “The big one’s in January, but folks I wanted to talk to were coming to this, so I arranged to get away.”
    “December? January? I can think of better times to come to Denver — unless you’re a skier.”
    He grinned. “Less of a skier than a roper.”
    “Around the ranch,” she said with a nod. “Like ‘Bonanza.’ ”
    “That and rodeo.”
    “Rodeo? So you
are
a cowboy?”
    He slanted her a look. “You got a special fondness for cowboys?”
    There was meaning in the question, and there would be meaning in her answer. No matter what answer she gave.
    She met his gaze, and said, “I don’t know. Yet.”
    She was caught by a flare in his eyes. Still, his words and tone were mild. “Fair enough.”
    This undercurrent could tug her right out to sea . . . where their ships would be passing each other, heading opposite directions, just like Lydia always said.
    “So, rodeo . . . You’re one of those who gets thrown from a horse?”
    “Not if I can help it.” A grin accompanied