More Than Words (Wyoming Kisses 1) Read online

  It was the challenge he loved, though, and when he and a horse had a disagreement, he found it much easier to settle than a fight with another person. And a relationship built between a horse and a human never failed. It lasted a lifetime. He was far more appreciative of the potential there than anything he could possibly build with a woman.

  Although, something inside him made him at least curious if he could ever expect someone with the passion and fire that Zoe Hartman had to stick around and not break his heart. It was stupid thought—there were no women like that. Even Zoe had her flaws, and while she was a sincere and exuberant personality, that didn’t mean she was any different than other women when it came to love and companionship.

  “Come on, Pontiac. Maybe you can kick me in the face and get my head on straight for me,” he said as he led the animal out to the training corral. He was only half joking.

  Chapter 6 – A Clear Picture

  Zoe was growing anxious as she waited for the model to show up. Class started in less than an hour, and she hadn’t even gotten a call confirming one would be coming. She sat at her desk in the studio with her head in her hands, trying to think of an alternative should a model not arrive in time for class. She didn’t like having students start portrait work with photographs, but she might not have a choice.

  She heard the door open and looked up, hoping it would be her model. Instead, her jaw dropped as Noah Thomas strode through her door, wearing a pair of jeans that showed off his strong, narrow hips and waist and a black traditional cowboy shirt with silver snaps that set off the odd violet shade of his eyes. His hair was freshly styled, something she doubted he did often since she could picture him in a Stetson at least six days a week. He was the picture of perfection, better than any Marlboro Man could ever look.

  She stood as he nodded and smiled in greeting, and if she didn’t know any better, Zoe would have taken his expression for nervousness. “Noah Thomas,” she said, smiling back and trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered just looking at this specimen. “I wasn’t sure I’d even see you again next week.”

  He reached up to his hairline, as if expecting to find a brim he could tip to her, and then he ran his hand over his hair like he wanted to cover up the faux pas. “I hate to disappoint you, but I told my mother I’d take the class, so you’re stuck with me for eleven more weeks.”

  “I don’t find that disappointing at all,” she argued and realized she was flirting again. Trying to rein it in a bit, she added, “I’m always pleased to have a student who doesn’t need as much guidance and actually shows promise. Between you and your mother, I’m pretty excited for the still life class this time around. So, have you signed up for the portrait class as well? I don’t have an updated list yet, if you have.”

  “No, ma’am, I haven’t,” he said politely, and Zoe felt strange at being called “ma’am”. She couldn’t remember ever having heard the title referencing her, but she liked it coming from him. “Although I thought about it. Actually, I had a couple of questions to ask you, something I was considering but don’t know if it’s even feasible.”

  Now, she was more intrigued than ever. This man had literally shown zero interest in art from the start of class, and even when he’d been a genius right out of the box, he didn’t seem to enjoy it the way people who chose to take her classes usually did. But here he stood, asking the opinion of an art teacher on something, which meant it must involve some form or fashion of art. “Very well, Noah. My interest is piqued. Go ahead. Why don’t you have a seat?”

  She grabbed an extra folding chair from a small stack against the wall and set it beside the desk. She swallowed past a lump in her throat as the man gracefully folded himself into it, looking as relaxed in it as he would have in a luxury recliner, though he still wore that hesitant expression.

  With a slight scowl, he began, “You said something about portraits to me toward the end of class, and it made me start thinking about something. I don’t know if I could even pull it off, but I’d like to try.”

  Zoe watched him expectantly, and he just reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular object. He stared at it, and she realized it was a Polaroid. “My mother lost my father when I was little, and she loved him like no man ever deserves to be loved. And I’ve never really given her anything special. I do whatever I can to make her happy. You know, she worked hard and raised me alone.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t really remember my father, so I don’t have a picture of him in my memory, but I’ve got this.”

  He held the photo out, and Zoe took it gingerly, realizing the photo had to be at least twenty years old. She turned it around and nearly gasped out loud at the resemblance between the man in the picture and the one before her. Sure, Noah got his nose and the color of his hair from his mother, but everything else was the spitting image of his father. She looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you talking about commissioning a portrait of your father? I know a lot of people, and I’m sure we could set something up.”

  He surprised her again, shaking his head. “I want to do it myself.” She didn’t say anything, dumbfounded, and he blushed slightly. “I’m no expert at art, Zoe, and I don’t expect what I do to come out perfect. But I want to make the effort, and I want to finish it for my mother by her birthday, which is three months away. I was hoping you could help me out a little, give me some advice or critique or whatever. I came today so I wouldn’t have to slip past my mama’s attention to ask.”

  Zoe’s heart melted. She didn’t particularly like most mama’s boys. They tended to be needy and clingy and didn’t let anything come before pleasing their mothers. But there was something about Noah that was different. He didn’t necessarily prioritize his mother. He had a career, and from what she’d heard as she’d walked around town so far, he was good at it and made a good living. Everyone knew who he was. He didn’t live with Arlene Thomas, and he wasn’t with her every day. But he did everything in his power to make her happy. It was a good balance.

  And this heartfelt gift idea was probably the most sincere, honest, and loving present she’d ever heard of. It couldn’t be easy for Noah, since it probably stung that he’d lost his father without ever really knowing him. The fact that he was willing to go to such lengths—and willing to set aside his pride to ask for help—to make Arlene happy spoke volumes about what a teddy bear he was beneath the raw, rough exterior.

  “I could pay you for your time,” he added when she’d obviously sat there quiet for too long. “I wouldn’t expect you to volunteer, especially since I’m probably a hopeless case and we aren’t even friends. I just need a professional to help guide me through this. The truth is, I respect the way you seem to love art, and I don’t even know anyone else to ask.”

  Zoe held up her hand to stop him. “You don’t have to convince me, Noah. This is…amazing. I think it’s a beautiful sentiment, and I also think that, because of your lack of experience, you don’t give yourself enough credit. I think you have the potential to create a beautiful portrait of your father, and I would be more than willing to help. I don’t need you to pay me. This is the sort of thing I live for. You are a wonderful son to your mother, obviously, and Arlene is a beautiful, talented person that I’m going to enjoy teaching.”

  He stared at her with a stunned expression. “You’d do it for free?”

  She laughed softly. Maybe she’d misjudged small towns. She’d expected that neighbors in a place like this always did favors for each other. But it didn’t sound like there was a lot of generosity going around if Noah Thomas was shocked at the offer of assistance without compensation. Then again, he might have thought of it as charity, which would wound his pride. To try and ease that, she told him, “Look at it from my perspective. Raw talent is hard to find, and for me, discovering it and nurturing it is a privilege. And on top of that, to be part of such a sweet gesture, however small my role, would give me great pleasure.”

  She could have added that getting to sniff him and stare at h
im from behind more often would be payment enough, but she’d already been far more flirtatious than she wanted. So, she waited for his reaction, which still seemed to be complete disbelief. Slowly, a smile twisted his mouth, and to Zoe, he was suddenly a movie star. He would look great on screen.

  “Thank you, Zoe. I’m not so good with words, so I can’t explain how important this is to me or how happy I am you agreed to do this. I don’t want to impose on your schedule, so you tell me when we could start.”

  She shrugged. “I’m sure you work seven days a week with your horses, so tell me when you’re available, and we’ll work it around my classes. I’m sure we can meet at least once a week, if not twice. And if it makes it easier, I can give you access to the studio even when I’m not here.” Zoe had no words for why she was going over the top to make this work, especially since she couldn’t seem to define it herself. But despite her better judgment, she wanted to get to know Noah Thomas better, and this was an incredible opportunity to do so while also giving her time to pursue a particular talent and express herself artistically. She would likely paint right alongside him.

  “I can do that.” He took something else out of his shirt pocket and set it on her desk. This time, it was a business card with his name, address, and phone number. “Give me a call when you’re free tomorrow, and we’ll work things out.” He glanced at the door as it opened, and Zoe realized it was almost time for class.

  To her relief, it was her model. She quirked a brow at Noah as he stood to leave. “You’re lucky. If she hadn’t just walked in, I might have asked a favor in return.”

  He smirked at her. “Really? What?”

  “I needed a model for class. I would have had you sit still in the middle of the room for the next three hours,” she teased.

  Noah blushed fiercely, and for some reason, it made Zoe giddy that she could get under his skin. But with a sly grin, he told her, “I would have hated every minute of it, but it would have been worth it.” With that, he walked out the door, and Zoe fought not to sit down and turn to gel in her chair. She had to get over this reaction to him, and she would start by getting set up for class.

  She gave the model the rundown and her instructions so they would sync easily when the students arrived. But no matter how busy she got, she couldn’t help but think about the card on her desk with all of Noah’s contact information. Tomorrow suddenly seemed very far away.

  Chapter 7 – A Mother’s Son

  Noah couldn’t get the smile off his face as he strode out of the studio and down the street where he’d parked the truck. If a trained professional had confidence that he could create a reasonably good portrait of his father from a photograph that had been taken thirty years ago right after his parents got married, he felt certain he could do it. The Polaroid was faded, but he knew from his mother that he shared his father’s complexion. And with Zoe’s reassurance that he had an eye for color, Noah knew he wouldn’t struggle with that aspect of the project.

  But painting a bunch of lines and circles that turned into a bowl of fruit was a far cry from creating a likeness of a living person. That idea was a bit daunting, especially within the time frame he wanted to finish it. And the sooner the better, since he wanted it framed and everything before he gave it to his mother.

  His phone rang as he turned over the engine in his old beast of a truck, and Noah frowned when he saw his mother’s number. Were her ears burning or something? “Hey, Mama,” he answered brightly.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How was your day? You get any of those horses broke today?”

  “No, just some basic training and a couple of new shoes for a regular. How are you?” He pulled out of the parking space and pointed toward the ranch just south of town.

  “I’m alright. I wanted to give you a call because you always say you need advance notice for these things so you can arrange your schedule,” she said, and Noah groaned inwardly. What was she up to now? “I’ve been invited to lunch at the Crosbys’ place on Sunday afternoon, when they get home from church, and they want you to come, too. They want us there at two o’clock and not a minute later. Can you make it?”

  Noah usually stopped training around one, the heat getting to be too much by then, but he’d have to cut it off early to make that deadline. He could afford to take an extra hour, if it meant making the lunch date. His mother didn’t get that sort of invitation as often as she used to, and Arlene thrived on that sort of companionship over a meal. He didn’t mind going with her every once in a while for something like this. And even if it wore him out socially, it kept him from becoming some sort of reclusive weirdo.

  “I’ll make it. I’ll pick you up at 1:30, okay?” He always made sure to escort her when they attended events or dinners at other people’s houses. It looked good for both of them, and his mother appreciated it.

  “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re too good to me. You sound like you’re in a good mood today. What’s got you glowing?” she asked.

  Noah scowled as he turned onto the county road that led out of town to his ranch. He hated when she could read his mood so easily, especially when he couldn’t tell her what affected it. “Nothing much. I got some good rest last night and made good progress today. And I might have a big project coming up that’s pretty promising.” She’d equate that to the ranch, and he was okay with that. He wasn’t lying, and he didn’t feel the need to specify that it was a project that would lead to something beautiful that she would love.

  “Well, that makes me happy. I like it when you’re not all sorts of irritated or grumpy. Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mama. Have a good night.” He hung up before she could ask any more questions he had to dodge. He would much rather think about the time he was going to spend on her birthday present and the fact that he’d get to do it while spending time with someone who actually brightened his day rather than making him see the worst in people like so many of the residents who called Five Forks home tended to do.

  He couldn’t imagine what had possessed Zoe to move from Cheyenne to the small town. He liked living there just fine because he wasn’t in the center of it and he didn’t like the fast-paced lifestyle expected in an urban area. And it would be harder to find a usable plot of land he could afford within the Cheyenne area. His ranch was his life. But someone choosing to leave the city for Five Forks had motive or reason to run.

  What was in Zoe’s past or future that made this place preferable for her to build a life?

  She’d sounded like she didn’t plan to stick around forever, hesitant about starting a second round of classes. He could see her having a hard time finding enough people to take the classes to justify sticking around. The question was, when she left Five Forks, would it be to go back to Cheyenne, or did she have something else in mind?

  Noah didn’t know why he thought so much about it. Apparently, it would be better for him if she left town in three months without a backward glance, since he needed to put some distance between them so he could get rid of these thoughts and inclinations. He had no use for her, and that was final. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look forward to spending time getting to know her in the interim. She was going to help him do something special for his mother, and he was grateful for that. But there was something about Zoe that he expected might also improve his disposition toward people in general.

  She seemed to see the best in everyone, as if each person was a work of art that just needed to be interpreted and understood. At least, that was the impression Noah got. He couldn’t be sure of that, but then, he was his mother’s son and tended to have a sense for people. He could usually read them quickly, and Zoe had put herself out there like an open book. She was definitely a strong heroine in her own tale and didn’t rely on some hero to save her like a damsel in distress.

  It was refreshing, considering that most of the women in Five Forks expected exactly the opposite. They all seemed to believe Noah or some other eligible bachelor would rid
e in on a white horse in shining armor and save them from the misery of small-town life. Since he had no intention of saving anyone and didn’t want to get close enough to any woman to feel obligated to rescue her, he just got irritated by it and tried to ignore them all.

  But Zoe definitely took care of herself and didn’t think he was some savior. That made it easier to respect her, and it made her more intriguing. And Noah realized as he turned onto the long dirt drive that led to his ranch house that it also made her safe. She wouldn’t be looking for anything from him except the dedication he needed to get the project done. In turn, he didn’t have to offer anything but a bit of a friendship that would hold steady until he finished the painting and Zoe decided there was nothing for her in Five Forks.

  There was no chance of getting involved, and that suited him perfectly. He had all the relationships he needed. He had his mother whom he loved dearly, his dogs that were as good as or better than children with fewer and simpler demands, and he had his love affairs with the horses in his stables. He was independent and didn’t have to worry that the person he’d chosen to bring into his life as family, the person he loved wholeheartedly, would leave him or hurt him.

  And that was the most important thing. It was why it was good to be alone. Noah didn’t depend on anyone else to be as dependable and loyal as he was. It just didn’t fall into the category of human nature. And even if Zoe seemed different on the surface, Noah wasn’t going to kid himself. No one was worth the heartache he’d watched his mother suffer. He wouldn’t do it to himself.