ONE NIGHT TOGETHER

After she'd placed her order and had a tray piled high with lunch, she saw him again.

He was waiting for her. He'd snagged a table and two chairs, one of which was obviously for her. So Rose ate lunch with the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her twenty-nine years.

"Thank you again for helping out with those men back there," she said.

"I couldn't let a lovely lady like yourself get hit by a backpack, could i?"

She ignored the compliment. And the flirtation. "Do you do that kind of thing often?"

"When it's necessary," he said, tearing the wrapper off a taco. "I'm a Texan, born and bred. We don't believe in backing down from a fight."

"I can believe it." She held out her hand. "I'm Roro."

He took it, sending a jolt of awareness through her. "Andrew."

"Nice to meet you," she said, knowing she sounded ridiculous as they smiled at each other. There was something about all the testosterone that was oddly appealing, Rose realized. And something about being stranded in a snowstorm that made her want to sit in the food court with the cowboy for the next few hours. He was safe....or else she felt safe when she was with him.

And she was so darn tired of being lonely. She couldn't remember what they talked about over lunch, but he told her Texas stories and she listened and laughed. She bought them large cups of coffee from a concession. They shared his newspaper; she left her luggage with him while she went to the ladies' rest room.

The storm worsened. People began to stake out chairs and benches on which to nap. The restaurant began to run out of food, since trucks hadn't been able to make deliveries. More flights were cancelled, more unintelligible announcements made on the loudspeakers.

"Look," he said, leaning toward her so she could hear him. A group of teenagers had landed at the table next to them, CD player blasting the latest pop hit. "This is crazy. I've got a hotel room," he said. "You are welcome to share it."

"I can't."

"It's right here, next to the airport," he said. "You'd be more comfortable in the hotel, I think. I can sleep in the lobby."

"I can't take your room."

"You are not taking it, I'm giving it to you. Nobody's going to get out of here until tomorrow." He motioned around him at the crowds of people. "Tell me you don't want to spend the night here."

"I don't, but..…"

"Then come on," he said, picking up both their bags.

"You can buy me a drink after we get rid of these bags."

"You could have been in your hotel hours ago."

~--------------------~

"I FIGURED were going to be alone all day,"

Bobby grumbled, following Francisca toward the ranch house. Gus, who was trying desperately to sniff Pookie, trailed behind them.

"Me, too," Francisca said, cradling her little dog in her arms. She'd wondered what it would be like to make love to Bobby more times than she wanted to admit. And kissing in the hay barn had sounded like a great beginning to a romantic Western weekend.

"Shorty should have looked harder before telling Marty the darn dog got lost." He stopped in front of the corral that held six prancing mares.

"I should have told him that Pookie likes to get under the covers." Francisca sighed, thinking of getting under the covers with Bobby. She'd never been promiscuous, but Bobby Calhoun's wicked kisses could tempt a nun.

Bobby frowned at the dog. "You want to take the little guy back to the house?"

"Not yet. I don't think Mrs Martin likes dogs."

"Not in her kitchen," he agreed, leaning on the fence. He smiled at her. "You want to watch me act like a cowboy?"

"Sure." She swore her heart beat faster.

"Stay here, honey, and I will show you what we do around here." He gave her a quick kiss before climbing over the fence. She watched as he collected leather and rope paraphernalia hanging from a nearby post and then prepared herself to be fascinated by Bobby's skill with horses.

Marty sauntered up to join her. "The boss putting on a show?"

"I hope so."

"You gonna marry him?"

Francisca shook her head. "That's none of your business," she said, just like she hadn't thought about marrying Bobby every five minutes.

"Marty!" Bobby waved at him. "Come get this bay out of here!"

"Coming!" But Marty didn't move. "Truth is ma'am, that there's some betting going on about this wedding and I could sure use the extra money." He winked at her.

"Do cowboys bet on everything?"

"Pretty much." He took off his hat, scratched his head, then replaced the hat, the brim lower across his brow. "I think folks are bettin' on twin I will end up with. It's nothing to take offense at."

"Okay." She turned to the corral and her almost fiancé. Aunt Roro liked him, despite what she said about how different lives were. Who couldn't love Bobby?

"Ma'am?"

"Hmm?" She thought Bobby looked wonderful as he led the snorting horse her way. It looked wild, but Bobby didn't seem to be afraid at all.

"The bet?"

"You will be the first to know," Francisca assured him. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight she and Bobby would be alone together, no matter what Aunt Roro said or did about it.