Chapter 1

"One night a young cowboy came in
wild as the West Texas wind
dashing and daring
a drink he was sharing
with wicked Faleena
the girl that I loved"

Somehow, the lyrics seemed to fit this quiet stranger. He was just finishing his coffee and apple pie. I had been watching him as I worked: refilling the sugar, salt and pepper containers. The glasses were spotless as I dried them over and over just to be able to peer in his direction. He was the type that drew you to him--like a magnet.

The diner had been slow tonight so when he came in he had his choice of seats. After a brief glance around, he had taken the booth in the corner. Dressed all in black, his duster was shiny from the light rain that still fell. The drops of water on the brim of his cowboy hat sparkled under the lights.

As the stranger came to the counter he pulled out an old-fashioned money pouch from his pocket. Its' intricate design caught my attention, reminding me of some of the old Western artifacts in the local museum. With nothing more than a nod, his bill paid, he left and blended in with the night. For the rest of my shift, as I went about setting up for the next day, my thoughts went back to him repeatedly.

I wondered about the Carson property outside of town. It had been vacant for a long time and could use fresh blood. Years ago it had been one of the most productive cattle ranches this side of El Paso. Now the barn was in disrepair, the fields were growing wild and most of the windows in the house were broken. Had the place been sold, and if so, could he be the new owner? By the time I closed up, I knew I wanted to learn more about this intriguing stranger.

When I locked up the rain had stopped. Most nights there was someone around to be sure I got home safely, even though it was only a block away. The last time our sheriff had any real trouble, it was just the Mason twins getting liquored up and racing each other down the old highway. The only casualty had been their trucks, which both ended up with blown motors. No, I wasn't worried around here.

It was a struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to wash off the grime of the diner and slip into bed. Pulling the sheet over me, I snuggled down and went to sleep.

My body ached and the sheets were damp and tangled when I woke up. Looking towards the window, I could see a hint of daylight through the curtain. Having no plans for the morning, I stretched and sank back into my pillows, trying to bring up some of the dream that nagged at my mind. I sensed it had something to do with the mysterious customer from the diner last night.

Giving up, I dragged myself out of bed and took a shower, then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. After a light breakfast, I went about my morning chores around the house, getting things done before my afternoon shift at the diner started. Normally work was just something I had to do, but today I was excitedI hoped he might be back. At least there would be some talk about him from the locals.

I took extra care getting ready to make sure I looked as good as possible in my uniform. One last check of my hair and I was all set to leave. The warm afternoon sun brought a touch of color to my face on the short walk to work. The bell above the diner's old door jingled as I entered. Several of the regulars turned and greeted me as I walked behind the counter.

My eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for him, though somehow I felt he wouldn't be around during the daytime. The best thing about him coming in so near closing time, was that by then the diner was almost deserted. That would make it much easier for me to steal glances in his direction.

With that thought in mind, I found my apron and went to work pouring coffee and serving up the day's special. The locals came in and out all day, but no one mentioned the Carson place, and no one commented about seeing a stranger in town. It was as if I had imagined him.

After the last of the supper hour customers left, I was able to take a break. Grabbing some change, I went to the old jukebox and punched in the buttons for my favorite songs. I sat down with a cup of coffee and relaxed with the music.

"Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina;
music would play and Faleena would whirl."

While daydreaming and listening to Marty Robbins tell his tale of "El Paso," I didn't hear the door open or shut, but a sixth sense told me I was no longer alone. Embarrassed to be caught sitting down at work by a customer, I stood and turned towards the door, ready to apologize.

He was just slipping into the same back booth as the night before, with a hint of dust lingering in the air around him. The words died in my throat as in that second I had a flashback of the dream from last night. I saw parts of it, bits and pieces that heated my body. My face burned, as if he could imagine it and see the words in my mind.

His eyes staring at my hands
Teasing his body
Fingers walking down his chest
Stopping at his now tight jeans.

My soft wet tongue on his nipple
Flicking one then the other
Finding strong warm hands on my back
Longing for them in other places as well.

Trying not to make a fool out of myself, I walked behind the counter for a menu and the coffee pot. Taking a deep breath, I pasted on a smile as I made my way over to take his order. I hadn't even heard his voice yet, but I knew it would be rich and deep, the kind that would send shivers down my spine.

"Welcome back, cowboy. Coffee's fresh, can I pour you a cup?"

He slid his coffee mug to the edge of the faded tabletop, nodding his reply, as he pushed back the menu I laid next to him.

"See anything you'd like tonight?" My soft-spoken words had a touch of flirting that added to the double meaning.

Eyes the color of steel held mine for what seemed like minutes but was only probably a few seconds. They seemed to read my every thought, bringing a hint of pink to my cheeks.

"I sure do darlin'. But for now just bring me the special."

I turned back to the kitchen, replacing the pot of coffee before giving the cook his order. Still a bit flustered from the short verbal interaction with this handsome stranger, I found myself filling the sugar containers on the counter. My eyes constantly returned to where he was calmly drinking his coffee, the fine grains scattering as I missed the openings.

The sharp ringing of a bell startled me. A steaming plate loaded with meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans stood ready. Plain fare, but hearty and filling for a working man, and it was tonight's special. Slipping it onto my arm, I reached for the coffee pot on the way to his table.

"Here you go, cowboy. Best meatloaf this side of Santa Fe. Need a refill on the coffee?" I slid the plate in front of him.

His empty mug appeared almost before I finished asking the question. My eyes went to the strong hand that brought it closer. His long fingers had a few dark hairs along the knuckles.

"Darlin? You gonna stand there with that coffee, or pour me some of it?"

Caught staring, I blushed as I poured the strong, black brew and fled to the safety of the counter once again. Washing up a few dishes, I found my eyes drawn back to him, not able to stop watching. His body was relaxed looking, yet there was an aura around him that said he would protect what was his.

The sound of his plate sliding across the tabletop broke the silence in the room.

"Any more of that apple pie left, darlin'?"

"Sure thing, cowboy. More coffee to go with it?" I remembered how he had seemed to enjoy it with his pie last night, and I wanted him to see I had noticed.

"You know it."

Dishing up a large slice of the pie and grabbing a fresh pot of coffee on the way past, I headed to his booth once again. I exchanged his empty plate for the one with the pie and I started to turn back so he could enjoy his dessert in peace.

"This pie is even better than my grandma used to make. My compliments to the cook back there."

He looked at the sweet concoction on the fork that was half way to his mouth.

"Well now, since the cook isn't the one that made that pie, I think I'll hold off on that, cowboy."

With his head down, I could see the silkiness of his jet-black hair. A bit unruly and needing a trim, I imagined how it might feel to run my fingers through it. He looked at me out of the corner of those gorgeous grey eyes as he tilted his head to the side. I just stood there, grinning, as it occurred to him what my words implied.

"Darlin', if this pie is any indication of how you cook I just might have to marry you."

If I wasn't halfway smitten before, the combination of his teasing words and the wink he added would have done it. Giving him a smug grin in return, I walked back to the counter, unaware he was watching me the entire way. A few things still needed to be readied for the morning shift, so I continued with those chores, as my mind went over everything that had happened tonight.

Sounds from the corner alerted me he was finished and getting ready to leave. Hat in hand, he walked towards the old cash register at the end of the counter. I tossed the towel over my shoulder then leaned against the sink where I could admire his casual stride.

Meeting his eyes, I tried to read something in their unusual coloring. A glint of humor reflected back at me, showing his awareness of my perusal. My glance stopped at the money pouch in his hands. I could see five mounted cowboys coming over a hill etched into the worn leather.

"That's a pretty unique design there. Makes me wonder what the other side has."

I gasped at the scene shown as he turned it with great care. A dozen or more riders chased a lone cowboy headed towards a cantina, where a girl stood waiting in the doorway. You could almost feel the urgency of the cowboy to reach her before being gunned down.

"It belonged to my granddaddy. When I was a little boy he would tell me the story of this girl standing here. He said her name was Faleena."

"Out in New Mexico, many long years ago
there in a shack in the desert, one night in a storm
amid streaks of lightin' and loud desert thunder
to a young Mexican couple, a baby was born
just as the baby cried, thunder and lightin died
moon gave its light to the world and the stars did the same
mother and father, both proud of the daughter
that heaven had sent them, Faleena was this baby's name."

My head jerked up. I sensed in his words the closeness he had shared with his Grandfather. It was an insight to the type of man this stranger was; a characteristic I respected. Though I didn't have children of my own family was important to me. My husband and I hadn't been fortunate enough to have any before he was killed in a freak accident on the ranch.

The stranger's eyes were still looking at the design, but he seemed to be lost in thought, probably sitting at his grandfather's side, listening to more stories. After a couple minutes, he blinked and looked at me, as if he only then remembered where he was.

With a sexy grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders, he pulled out enough money to cover his bill, added a generous tip, and slipped the pouch back into his pocket.

"You take care now, darlin'. Be sure to save a piece of that pie for me tomorrow night."

He was almost at the door before the words were out of his mouth.

"You like peach pie, cowboy?"

My question stopped him in his tracks. One hand was on the doorknob while the other was holding his hat. He looked rugged; all male; his image was stamped in my brain, taking it places I hadn't let it go for a long time now.

"If that's what you're making tomorrow, then I've changed my mind. Save two pieces for me. The two biggest pieces of the pie."

"Anything you want, cowboy."

I winked and grinned to let him know the dual meaning was intended.

"Darlin', I knew what I wanted last night already. You don't think I came back just for the meatloaf do you?"

With that, he was out the door, vanishing into the darkness, leaving me stunned. I didn't even think he had noticed me when he was in here before, yet if I understood him right, I was the reason he came back. Those thoughts sent chills throughout my body. His words repeated themselves in my head as I just stood there.

Somehow, I finished up for the night and made it home. For once, I was glad there had been no one stopping in the diner for a late night cup of coffee. I only wanted to think of my cowboy. Yes, after he left, I had started to call him mine in my head. Yet, I knew nothing about him, not even his name.