Nodding, Shiloh kept her hand on the elder’s arm. “Yes. This is Mrs. Ellie Sanders. She has a bag, Mr. Taggart. Could you possibly get it and carry it out for her? She’s meeting her brother who hasn’t shown up yet.”
Tipping his hat to the elder, Roan said, “Ma’am? Why not show me which bag is yours? I’ll be happy to carry it out for you.”
Ellie gave him a look of relief. “Oh, thank you, son. My brother will be here shortly. If you can just carry it outside to the benches, I’ll wait for him there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured.
Shiloh kept her arm on the woman because she limped badly and didn’t seem all that sturdy.
Grateful that Roan would do this for her, Shiloh wondered if the hardness of his facial features was only skin-deep. She’d watched his eyes turn kind, his deep voice grow gentle as he chatted respectfully with unsteady Ellie. As a writer, she gleaned information from small things, such as voice, body language, and watching a person’s eyes. Humorously, Shiloh thought Taggart would make a great romance hero. He wasn’t pretty and he wasn’t exactly charming, rather rough-hewn. But he had courtly manners and he was kind to the flustered Ellie, so he got a gold star from her because of that.
As Shiloh stood at the carousel waiting for her luggage to appear, she watched Roan with the elder who was half his size. He didn’t try to hurry her or force her to walk faster than she could. She watched Ellie fall under his spell. Who wouldn’t? Shiloh almost swore she saw the woman become more plucky, more active, smiling all the time with rugged Roan Taggart at her side. Yeah, this cowboy could make a woman feel really good about herself.
Frowning, she turned and saw her first bag arrive, so she hauled it off the carousel and set it nearby. She had six bags in total since she was going to stay with Maud for two months. She knew Roan would be back in a few minutes after settling Ellie outside to wait for her brother.
It was utter pleasure watching Roan walk casually back into the airport and head in her direction. The man moved with a masculine grace Shiloh had rarely seen. And on him, it was a perfect fit with his rugged quality, his work-worn jeans, those ropy lower arms and large hands. There was such a blatant sensuality about him. His masculinity was squarely in her face. She noticed how many women’s heads swiveled as he strode by them. Tucking away her smile, Shiloh picked up her last suitcase and set it down next to the others.
“Got them all?” Roan asked, halting.
“Every last one of them.”
“It’ll take me two trips. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll take you to the truck?”
She snorted. “If you take three, I can get the other three.”
Roan gave her a steady look. “Code of the West, Ms. Gallagher. Men do the heavy hauling.”
She was about to protest but he wrapped his hand around her upper arm. The instant his fingers brushed her skin, wild, fiery tingles radiated in every direction. With a quick breath, Shiloh opened her mouth to protest.
“No excuses,” Roan growled, marching her in front of him.
She had the good grace not to put up a fight with the cowboy. Twisting a look across her shoulder, she said, “You wouldn’t last a day in New York City. Women are on their own there, believe me.” He probably opened doors for women too.
“I made the mistake of going there only once,” he said, taking the first three suitcases in hand. He saw the amusement deep in her green eyes, that wide, lush mouth of hers pulling tentatively into a smile. There was nothing to dislike about Shiloh. He especially liked her name. It rolled off his tongue like melted honey. And he’d like to taste that mouth of hers but, he darkly reminded himself, she was Maud’s guest.
After leading her to the white Chevy pickup truck with WIND RIVER RANCH painted on the door, he opened it for her. “Climb in,” Roan said, putting the suitcases in the rear bed. The sun was warm and bright in a cloudy blue sky. Roan walked back and retrieved the rest of her luggage. As he slid into the truck, he asked, “Did Maud tell you that you’ll be staying over at one of the employee houses? That there’s a room waiting for you?”
“Yes.” Roan filled the cab of the truck. Somehow, and she didn’t know how, Shiloh felt a very protective feeling extending invisibly from him to her. She felt embraced by it and it was wonderful, de-stressing her. Maybe it was the warm look he gave her as their eyes briefly met? As if he was trying to reassure her?
“Then you know you’ll be doing your own cooking?” Roan saw her nod. “Do you feel like going over to the local grocery store to buy your food? Things you like to eat?”
“Sure. It will feel good to be able to walk around for a while. My legs are cramped up from that darned economy seat in the plane.”
Driving slowly out to the asphalt road that would take them into Jackson Hole, Roan said, “I thought you were a best-selling author.”
“I am. Why?”
Shrugging, Roan murmured, “Just thought all you authors were rich.”