River from the City: A Small Town Contemporary Romance (Rydell River Ranch Series Book 6)

by Leanne Davis

  She sucked in a sharp breath at his last statement. His tone had a husky timbre in it. Her throat went dry. No, damn it. She had to conceal her adolescent crush on him.

  “You can’t be serious about ranch work if you come to one, a real one, not a resort or a pretty one like the Rydell River Ranch, in that suit.” Her tone verged on being downright rude in reaction to the strange vibe she had.

  Her effort to combat her blushing and girlie-crush feelings of pleasure at seeing him, was clearly overkill with so much sarcasm, and too thick and harsh.

  He smiled. Softly. Knowingly. “You are a rancher. Doing your work. Quit being embarrassed about it. I get it.” His gaze lifted to her, then he looked away. Contemplative? She wasn’t sure, but his appearance was almost haunted. “And I’m a big pansy who was going to drive home and see about my job. I got to the top of Stevens Pass and just pulled over. I stopped. I turned around and started back this way. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t even make the drive. The dividing line between the west and east side of the state was as far as I got. I could not go to the west side. Stupid, huh? Talk about being embarrassed. I can’t even drive towards the part of the state my wife is in. My house and my money and my job are all there. Hell, even my damn underwear is there. But I can’t make myself go back. I began sweating, breathing hard, and a blinding headache started behind my eyes. Panic attack? Guess so. I couldn’t force myself to go any further. So, I turned the car around. Feeling dejected, I was too depressed to go back to Reed Ranch. So while you’re busy at your job, being strong and capable, I stand before you weak and sad, without a stitch to call my own but this suit. I’d just be happy to have my own underwear. I’m a failure and I can’t figure out what to do about that. I have nowhere to go. No one, no one at all I want to see. Not like this. Not with my pathetic tale of woe.”

  His gaze dropped back to her and sharpened. “But there was one person that I wanted to see. Only one. The one that motivated me to go home and face my fear in the first place. The only one I wanted to discuss it with when I failed. Which seems kind of backwards. You were the motivation and I should have followed your advice. But you were my first choice to seek for consultation. So I came here.”

  Her gaze jumped to him and back. Shivers broke out all over her body. She never expected him to say that. Or to react to his answer by having her stomach churn and her heart flutter. He came to her. Hurt. Embarrassed. Defeated. He was at the lowest spot in his life and he sought her as the only one who understood? The one he wanted to be with? Should she be offended? Or…? Oh, damn. Or completely enchanted because he needed her? Only her. It was intoxicating stuff to hear.

  She, the trusty, go-to friend. Everyone’s buddy. Honest and direct. But not usually considered someone special. Heady stuff to be noticed all of a sudden.

  “I—I was so mean. I’m sorry. I should not have said that. Or acted so rudely. I was—no, I’m embarrassed. To be caught like this. By you. This place isn’t like your family’s, let alone, the life you have now.”

  “No. It isn’t. But neither of those places have a woman like you.”

  Her gaze jerked back to his face. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, and she re-evaluated his entire demeanor. He was dejected. Broken. His gaze was fastened on her. There was no smirk. No smile. Only pleading. A deep, lost expression. He stood before her, his pride gone, his ego stripped bare. Yes, he wore the suit, but suddenly, it made so much sense now, she had to fist her hands to keep from rushing to him. The urge to comfort him and hold him and just inhale the essence of his beautiful form were hard to resist.

  She was focused on the words he said to her. Her heart lurched. He said them in a deep, serious tone with a soft quality that spoke of unmitigated honesty. There was no charm. There was no flirtation. It was Hunter, being fully present and without pretense. Without defenses. Without city-chic armor. Without sarcasm or humor.

  She licked her lips, almost dizzy at the incredulity of this interaction. Brief as it was, it felt like the most potent communication she ever experienced.

  “Do you see me as a hang-out buddy that is so unthreatening and innocuous that you can fully unveil all your shortcomings and phobias? Like, you so don’t care what I might think of you or your life that you can let it all hang out? I’m so far removed from what is real and usual to you that my opinion doesn’t matter to you?”

  He nodded, his gaze holding hers. “That’s fair. I deserve that.”

  “You do but I was asking for real. Which one? I help you feel better. I understand that. Anyone would. You’ve been through a terrible betrayal. Your entire life exploded in your face, metaphorically speaking. I’m usually available even if no one else was.”

  “I meant, I might not have fully understood your depth of character, integrity, care and goodness when I first met you. But it didn’t take me long to sense it was there. I’m not even mad at myself for overlooking how incredible you are initially, but only because it took me a matter of days before I could fully see you and—”

  “The great personality that I conceal under this humble surface.” She whipped her hand in a circle around her face and torso.

  He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, dropping his chin down as if he could not endure another moment of speaking to her. “Can we not slip into that almost every time I get serious with you? Accusing me of being shallow and only seeing what’s on the surface? I just wish you would not associate that with me. Or put that on me. Or act like your self-confidence is actually tied into that. It’s not. I know it’s not, except for some reason, it is with me. Please stop it. You need me to itemize my honest impression of you? Is that what you want me to do? Are you asking me if I see a plain a girl with a great personality?”

  She winced with shock that he was calling her out on her biggest insecurity. That he was right had only popped up with him. It wasn’t his fault. However, it was completely obnoxious of her, although she didn’t even see it until this moment. The answer to his hypothetical question was yes, that’s what he saw.

  “I do have a kickass personality,” she finally answered.

  He stared with a stony face until finally, a tiny, small crack in the mean wall of his mouth tugged to one side. “You do. Most of the time. Except when you get self-conscious with me.”

  “I didn’t realize you noticed.”

  “It’s not very subtle.”

  “It’s maybe a little disconcerting from a man as—”

  “Don’t you dare say pretty.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” Turning her gaze upwards, she stopped talking and smiled brightly. Staring up at the sky, she bit her lip to contain the little laugh that was gurgling up her throat.

  He play-punched the side of her arm. “Actually, you were. What is so pretty about me? Why would it affect you? You don’t seem the type to be swayed by outward appearances.”

  “You mean, considering what we’re both wearing right now.”

  “Well, yes. Not a bad thing. No judgment either way, simply an accepted fact. True facts.”

  “I’m not. I find you overly handsome. Fine. I admit that. Maybe even distracting, which makes me extra aware of my… lack of primping. Being unpolished doesn’t usually bother me. I’ve never had any issues with self-confidence. So it frustrates me that I let it bother me with you.”

  “But that isn’t my fault. None of it. I’ve grown comfortable with you. Not an easy thing for me. It says so much about the warm, caring, and most of all, real person you are. I love the authentic way you interact with me. It might sound like a line or manipulation, but you seem like the only true person I know. And yes, that’s probably overinflated considering the ordeal with my wife when I met you. But it’s held true. How you interact with me, with Asher and what Asher says about you only prove my point. So when I chickened out of my life’s plan today, I ran to you. Because of all the reasons that make you kickass,” he said with his eyebrows raised and his arms loose at his sides. Then a smirk filled his f
ace. “Except for right now, when you’re scowling at me to leave.”

  She flushed brighter and the heat flooded her neck and cheeks. “I realize I overreacted just now. It’s just… yeah, it’s my insecurity. Feeling silly. Here I am working the fire at a place that could never compare to your family’s spread. Let alone, the life you led for the past five years with Francine. I’m sweaty and hot, and I stink, not only of the fire. I have so much more to do still. And you suddenly appear, strolling across my barren, snowy field, looking fresh as a new flower. And it’s hard for me to understand why you’d be here.”

  “Friendship? I hope we could agree on that. Or is that just my pathetic read on the situation and I’m sadly wrong? You detest me. You find me tragically pitiful. You laugh behind my back. You think I’m a dandy… yes, I know what Asher says about me. Whatever, fine. I dare to show a little style and class and I’m suddenly the main target for mocking. But I hope that you find my company at least interesting. Enough so that I indulged the thought that you perhaps, showed up to Asher’s house, not in spite of my being there, but maybe because of it?”

  “I did,” she admitted quietly. Staring down at her booted toe that shoveled the crusty snow below her, she kicked off the slushy mess.

  “Okay, well then, friends? I don’t have any friend right now who is closer or understands me more. I should remedy that, but can’t seem to find the strength or wherewithal, or whatever the word is, to do so. I hope that you get something from our interactions and it’s not only me benefiting from the support but also you. Is it? Judging by your reaction to me showing up, perhaps I misread the situation. Maybe I’m a giant joke and you need more fodder to amuse yourself.”

  She shook her head. “No. You didn’t misread the situation. I showed up at Asher’s since you arrived because you were there. I’ve enjoyed our dinners, our drinking and our games of cards. I hate your wife. In defense of you. I don’t mind listening to your stories because honestly, you don’t talk about her much. Unless I go there. I acted weird just now because of my self-consciousness. It’s because I live there.” She shot a hand out to indicate her dad’s brown, collapsing, ramshackle property, outbuildings, and house. The home was practically buried behind all the fencing, sheds, shacks, barns, and other unwanted stuff.

  “I don’t care where you live. What you wear. Or what you do. What kind of friend would I be if those things did matter? How could you not understand that? Asher Reed is my best friend on the planet. He always was and has continued to be no matter how far into the corporate world I might venture. No matter where I live or how much money I earn. He lives in a desolate, old house that he fixed up, literally in the middle of nowhere, and where did I go when I needed help? My rich family’s ranch? My so-called friends and co-workers in the city? No. Not at all. They never even crossed my mind. The first person I came to is Asher. Country or urban, dirty boots or Italian loafers, I knew he’d support me, take care of me and simply be there for me. As I would for him. There was no question. Never. Not for a second. Of course, I’d go to him. I’d never trust anyone as much as I do Asher. So honestly, how can you not know what kind of friend I am?”

  Stunned, her mouth dropped open and a slow breath exhaled. She’d been so short-sighted and downright wrong. Swallowing, she held his gaze. “You’re right. I’m honestly embarrassed for my prejudicial behavior. I’m not sure why I didn’t know that. Listening to you just now, it all clicks. But I let all my personal issues cloud my judgment. The things that I once found so glaring about you, are you saying they really are just trappings?”

  He tilted his head, his mouth twitching in annoyance. “Do I really have to say that out loud?”

  “Yes.” She shrugged, and regret colored her tone. “You dress like no one I can think of or imagine. Not even Quinn Larkin. You outdo them all. I’m the antithesis of that, I feel like the raggedy little sister you’d be too embarrassed to introduce to anyone.”

  “I would be proud to introduce you to everyone. I don’t care about the house or job or clothes. I care about you. Who we are to each other and I hope we, at least, can agree to be friends.”

  Her heart skipped when he said “at least.” He didn’t mean—no, he was simply making a point and being dramatic.

  “I thought you were just somehow going to turn it around to mock me.”

  “Well, I will eventually. But it’s all in fun. Like I do with Asher, and he does with me. Like you and I did and were doing until you started thinking way too hard about it.”

  At that point, her attraction to him flared from a small spark to a six-foot flame that nearly ballooned beyond the fire ring. She sighed. “I became more aware of how different we were. Instead of it being a fun source of ribbing, I let it become a sore point, as if I were being mocked.”

  “No, not mocking.” He repeatedly shook his head. “Ribbing you. Bonding with you. It’s what I do. What I do with Asher and you. But I’ll stop. I’d never want you to think I’m mocking you. Or being a bully. I’m simply not.”

  Kyomi smiled, relieved. “Then don’t stop. I like being that way together. It’s what made me tolerate you and want to keep coming back. I think I just got strange and stupid. I’ll stop. I’ll see who is right in front of me instead of assigning you to a stereotype.”

  “In all honestly, it’s worrying me that all I want to do is drink. That’s why I walked across your field without any invitation or announcement,” he said with a quick shrug.

  “It shouldn’t scare you. You’re aware of doing it, why you want to do it and the extreme circumstances that led to it. It’s a short-term coping mechanism.”

  “I don’t want to drink today.”

  “But you don’t know what else to do?” she supplied immediately, knowing she nailed it.

  He looked over her head. She doubted if he really took in any details about all that she tried so valiantly to hide, being so unhappy with himself as he was just then. “I don’t. But clearly interrupting your work isn’t fair.”

  He stepped back. She shook her head. “It is. Friends can do that once in a while. You definitely don’t make a habit of it. I—” She shoved her shoulders back. “I live here. This is my dad’s home and mine for the foreseeable forever. I’m slowly working through the derelict, crumbling buildings. So when weather conditions allow, I burn the rubbish I collect all year long. I also work the cattle, supply their feed and water, and care for their physical needs. I keep their fencing intact, and the fields safe from most hazards. My dad is all there in his head, but his body is failing now. He has gout. Along with a bad back and hip. He’s miserable most of the time, which makes his mood difficult and he’s tough to live with. I spend as much time away from the house as I can.”

  He smacked his face. “Aha. So that’s why you all but live at Reed Ranch, even when Asher isn’t around. Night after night. Weekends too. You cope with your dad by being here as infrequently as you can.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you work so hard for someone who doesn’t appreciate it.”

  “Yes.”

  “You need to start telling someone that stuff. You don’t have to shoulder it all alone. I mean… tell Asher. Vent on him once or twice. Find some relief.” He shook his head and then added, “Tell me.”

  “It’s never been easy for me to talk about my dad. I have lots of reasons, but mostly something he engrained in me since I was little: don’t tell others family business. Keep it private. Never become the source of gossip for the valley and beyond. We keep the good, bad and indifferent to ourselves. It’s a life-long lesson, hammered into me for so long that I can’t let go of it.”

  “Asher should offer his help. But he’s so caught up in proving the ranch is his destiny, he doesn’t come up to breathe.”

  “Who does?” she snorted.

  “I do. I notice. You could tell me.”

  She glanced away and smiled as she said, “And how long do you think you’re going to be here? Reed Ranch isn’t Hunter Rydell’s final
stop.” She fake-punched his arm. “City-boy.”

  He fully grinned. Her heart jerked in her chest. Damn it. No friend vibe now. He was so beautiful, shining in that moment. In that field. She could not prevent the attraction that all but flooded her. But she could not let it make her act foolishly anymore. Or act reprehensible to the point of losing his valued friendship. Her yin that was so caustic to his yang. But in a way, they clicked. Hard. Like a key in a lock. Or the sun’s reflection on the moon. It just worked. Not a thing about their demeanors said it should, but here they were.

  “Is it like this for Daisy and Asher? You were there, you saw it. Did the city girl/country-boy magnet between them connect like this?”

  “Yes.” He tilted his head. “They connected.”

  She lowered her face, burning even brighter. She feared giving him the idea she wanted to connect on a sexual level like those two, instead of just a friendship. To cover the gaffe, she slapped her hands together, but the gloves muffled them. “So… let me stoke the fire and then we’ll find something to do.”

  He sighed. “I interrupted your day, and I shouldn’t have. I’ll go back to Asher’s. See you tonight?”

  “No.” She grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. She instantly decided to abandon her work and responsibilities. Something she rarely did. But her friend needed her and knowing that felt surprisingly pleasant. She didn’t allow others to need her and kept herself from needing them. Even Asher. But somehow this city-boy, ginger-haired, beautiful man pierced through her usual defenses. “No, really. I want to do this. I want to be with you. I just have to make sure the fire is banked and find someone to attend it. And that suit is really too nice for out here. So go back to your car. Wait for me? I’ll run in and shower. I’ll be… maybe a half hour? Can you wait that long?”

  Relief shone in his eyes and that tell shored up her confidence. His friendship towards her was real and valued by him so she needed to let it be for her too. If nothing else, she had to allow him that without criticism and harsh words. Doing a nice, decent gesture, she actually needed a little help. Her being so bitchy was becoming a bad habit. She let her crush turn him into a mean bully in her story when he was not. “Take your time. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.” He shook his head, adding, “Literally.”