Saving Cole Turner Read Free Page B

to him. When he’d first come back to town, her touch would have been all the invitation he needed. But now...
    “You want some whiskey?” Cole motioned to the barkeep without waiting for her answer. “And leave the bottle, Ted,” he advised when the burly man, who’d once funneled rotgut to his father, silently poured Polly’s drink.
    “Yes, but that wasn’t what I was hoping you were buying,” she purred, looking him up and down.
    “Not tonight, Polly.” He caught the overpowering scent of some lavender perfume she must have dumped on.
    Polly picked up the whiskey glass and touched it to her lips, tracing the rim with her tongue. Nothing. He felt nothing. Hell, if it wasn’t for the kick he got from just looking at Kate, he’d wonder if he was still a man when Polly’s blatant invitation wasn’t doing anything for him.
    “You haven’t been in my bed since you first came here. I know you liked it, Cole.” She lifted her chin before taking a sip. “You afraid of getting something? I’m clean.”
    “Business tonight.”
    Suddenly an older, gray-haired man with a day’s worth of silver stubble on his chin walked through the swinging doors. Cole nodded in his direction. “And here it comes.”
    Polly sighed as she eyed Pritchard and finished her whiskey. “Guess I’ll leave you to it. If he’s a mind, tell him to see me after you’re done.” She arched a brow. “And if you change your mind, you come find me, hear?” With a pat on his arm, Polly moved on to her next customer.
    Focusing on the sway of Polly’s hips, Cole called for another glass.
    The barkeep promptly obliged just as Charlie Pritchard ambled up.
    “Cole,” Charlie said as his gaze followed Polly.
    “Whiskey?” Cole poured, knowing the answer before the man spoke.
    “Ain’t you going to join me?” The old codger wiped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his faded plaid shirt and reached for the full shot glass. He stared at Cole as if he was trying to guess the answer to some riddle.
    Cole smiled. Charlie no doubt remembered his old man. “One’s my limit.”
    Charlie downed the liquid refreshment. “Not mine,” he said as he thumped the empty glass on the counter.
    Cole refilled Charlie’s glass as the piano player started up another tune.
    “So you thinking of taking up ranching?” Charlie wrapped his fingers around the glass but didn’t pick it up.
    “Thinking.” Cole scratched the stubble on his own face, wondering how much to trust the old man.
    “Matt Tyler’s made me a good offer.”
    “So I heard. Also heard you haven’t accepted.”
    Charlie shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like selling to a man who tried to cheat me out of my water rights when he staked claim to his land.”
    Cole knew Tyler’s reputation for honest dealing wasn’t the best, but someone was rustling the man’s cattle. Someone smart. Cole hadn’t needed much more incentive to pick up some extra money.
    “You any closer to finding those rustlers? You know I’ve lost some of my beeves.” Charlie growled, flapping his sagging jowls. “I just wish people would agree to take what’s coming to them and no more. Whole world would run smoother.”
    There was a lot of wisdom in what Charlie said.
    “I’m closing in.” Cole was more than closing in. He knew where the rustlers were. Tomorrow he expected to catch them with the cattle and then he’d be moving on. What he was doing talking to Charlie Pritchard about buying the man’s ranch was beyond him. But something was pushing him to at least explore the idea, see if his dream was even possible. Something in a pretty blue dress.
    “You got a price in mind?” Cole asked.
    “Well, I’ve got Tyler’s offer. You come in higher, I’ll sell it to you.”
    “And if Tyler matched or upped my bid?” Cole had no desire to get in a bidding war with a rancher who had a bigger bank account than his. That was a good way to overpay and sink in the process.
    “I just want a fair price. So I’ll