Read Online Lone Star Winter by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online

talk about organic gardening. I love growing things.”
    â€œWe’ll have to lay out a big garden spot for you next spring. You can grow all sorts of stuff.”
    â€œThat would be nice. I’ve got a compost pile,” she added brightly. “It’s full of disgusting things that will produce terrific tomatoes next summer.”
    â€œI like cattle, but I’m not much of a gardener.”
    â€œIt’s a lot of work, but you get lovely things to eat, and they aren’t poisoned by pesticides, either.” She glanced out at the long, flat dark horizon. “I guess you aren’t big on people who don’t like to use chemicals.”
    â€œHaven’t you heard?” he chuckled. “I go to cattlemen’s association meetings with J. D. Langley and the Tremayne brothers.”
    â€œOh, my,” she said, because she’d heard about the uproar at some of those gatherings, where the Tremaynes had been in fistfights over pesticides and growth hormones. Their position against such things was legendary.
    â€œI enjoy a good fight,” he added. “I use bugs for pest control and organic fertilizer on my hay and corn and soybean crops.” He glanced her way. “Guess where I get the fertilizer?”
    â€œRecycled grass, huh?” she asked, and waited for him to get the point.
    He threw back his head and roared. “That’s one way of describing it.”
    â€œI have some of that, too, and I use it in my garden. I think it works even better than the chemical ones.”
    The subject of natural gardening and cattle raising supplied them with topics all the way to Houston, and Lisa thoroughly enjoyed herself. Here was a man whothought like she did. Walt had considered her organic approach akin to insanity.
    The parking lot at the arts center was full. Cy managed to find one empty space about half a city block away.
    â€œNow that’s a full house,” he remarked as he helped her down from the vehicle and repositioned her coat around her shoulders. “This thing sure is soft. Is it wool?” he asked, smoothing over it with his fingers.
    â€œIt’s a microfiber,” she told him. “It’s very soft and warm. The nights are pretty chilly lately, especially for south Texas.”
    â€œThe weather’s crazy everywhere.” He nudged a long, loose curl from her braided hair behind her ear, making her heart race with the almost sensual movement of his lean fingers. “I thought you might wear your hair loose.”
    â€œIt’s…difficult to keep in place when it’s windy,” she said, sounding and feeling breathless.
    His fingers teased the curl and slowly dropped to her soft neck, tracing imaginary lines down it to her throat. He could feel her pulse go wild under his touch, hear the soft, broken whip of her breath at his chin. It had been far too long since he’d had anything warm and feminine this close to him. Restraints that had been kept in place with sheer will were crumbling just atthe proximity. He moved a full step closer, so that her body was right up against him in the opening of her coat. His hands were both at the back of her neck now, caressing the silky skin below her nape.
    â€œI haven’t touched a woman since my wife died,” he said in a faintly thick tone, his voice unusually deep in the silence. The distant sound of cars and horns and passing radios faded into the background.
    She looked up, straight into his green eyes in the glow from a streetlight, and her heart raced. That look on his face was unfamiliar to her, despite her brief intimacy with her late husband. She had a feeling that Cy knew a lot more than her husband ever had about women.
    Cy’s thumbs edged around to tease up and down her long, strained neck. Her vulnerability made him feel taller, more masculine than ever. He wanted to protect her, care for her, watch over her. These were new feelings. Before, his