by Loraine, Kim
“That sounds like a lot more involvement than you’d planned on.”
I took a drink and sighed. “I guess so.”
“You know, you looked real good on Skye until he threw you.”
Grinning, I sat back into the deep cushions of the couch. “It felt good until he threw me. But you know what felt better?”
He gave me a questioning glance.
“Getting back on.”
A smile spread his lips. “Look at you.”
“Looks like there’s some cowboy in me already.”
The words hung between us, unspoken but tempting.
Not yet.
8
Ever
I woke up unaware of my surroundings. My glasses were still on my face, smashed against a…man’s chest? He groaned and shifted, wrapping his arms around me and hauling me closer. He smelled good. Like Clint.
Alarm shot through me. Clint. Oh, God. It came back in a rush of memory. The two of us killing a bottle of wine, taking turns sharing stories. His of growing up on the ranch, mine of horror stories from set and auditions gone wrong. Before I was a behind-the-scenes person, I was an audition-to-be-in-the-scenes person.
I felt it the instant he woke up. Clint’s whole body stiffened. “Ever?” he grumbled. I loved the way my name sounded with my ear against his chest. A deep, sleepy rumble. Warm and satisfying.
Pulling away, I stared at him. Even rumpled from a night of sleep on my couch, the man was hot as sin. “I think we fell asleep.”
“I guess so. Shit, what time is it?”
I stretched but shivered almost immediately. The fire was nothing but ashes now, and the house was chilly. My nipples pressed against my shirt in protest of the cold. Clint definitely noticed. His gaze had fallen to my breasts, and I caught him before he could correct himself.
“Almost seven.”
“Seven?” He jumped to his feet. “Get dressed. We have to go.”
“Calm down. It’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m surprised my brothers haven’t come knocking down your door already.”
The prospect of a bunch of ranchers showing up while I was braless and in my pajamas wasn’t something I wanted to entertain. “Give me two minutes.”
I stood and rushed to the bathroom, making quick work of brushing my teeth, washing my face, and putting in my contacts. On my way to the bedroom, I caught sight of him, standing and adjusting his jeans. Was that a bulge? There was a definite bulge. Flutters built in my stomach, and I averted my gaze as I passed by and went inside my bedroom.
When I emerged, dressed in jeans and a high-performance long-sleeved work out top, he assessed me. “Better than yesterday.”
I grinned, cheeks burning. “I learned my lesson.” I grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it over my head before walking to the door, where my new boots were still in their box. “Time to break out these bad boys.”
Pulling the top off the box, I stared down at the brand-new boots. Square toed brown leather with a low heel and turquoise detailed upper. “Oh, they’re so pretty,” I said, mostly to myself.
Clint chuckled. “They won’t be for long.”
“You’re right.” I slid my foot into one boot and cursed under my breath when I couldn’t get the arch of my foot into the base of the shoe.
“Need some help?” Clint knelt at my feet and grabbed the heel with one hand and the top with the other. Then he pushed up while I pushed down. My foot slipped in, and his hand slid along my calf. It was a light touch, but it lingered.
He cleared his throat and locked gazes with me. “Sometimes they stick a little until you break ‘em in.”
I put my other foot into the empty boot, and this one slid right in with no problem. Something inside me took hold that I didn’t really want to admit. Disappointment. I wanted to give him another reason to touch me. “Thank you. I think I’m ready.” I stood and grabbed my coat, hat, and gloves. “I’ve got a date with your brother from eight until five.”
Was I crazy, or had jealousy flickered in his eyes?
“Don’t get used to it. Once you’re ready, you’re all mine.”
* * *
Clint
“You ready to talk about what you and Ever were up to last week?” Buck asked from beside me as we rode out to check the cattle in the lower pasture. The wind was bitter cold, and the clear skies only added to the chill. I pulled the collar of my coat up higher on my neck and ignored him. “Come on, Clint. You’ve been avoiding the subject all week. You were wearing the same clothes as the day before, and both of you were late for morning chores.”
“I didn’t fuck her if that’s what you’re getting at.”
He laughed. “Of course you didn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you’d fucked her, you’d be with her right now. Not out here with me and letting our handsome baby brother show her how to work a crop.”
My chest tightened with unease. Tristan was a flirt; there was no way around that. But something in me said she wasn’t interested in him. She wasn’t interested in any of us. Ever Wilson was here for one reason, to get her show off the ground.
“You think she’s gonna make it through?” he asked.
“Yeah. After she got thrown and climbed back on Skye, I’m sure of it.”
I thought back to Jess and the pure anger on her face when she’d fallen out of the saddle while attempting a posting trot. She’d refused to get on a horse again after that. Ever was different. She had fire and determination, but I could see her respect for her horse.
“When do you want to get her out here with us?”
“Soon. Maybe tomorrow.”
“And what else is on the docket for approval? Mucking stalls? Loading hay? Feeding and care of the livestock?”
I nodded. “Exactly. Tomorrow, if she’s ready, I’ll take her to check fences along the south side.”
He cocked a brow. “That’s a long ride.”
“Trial by fire. We only have a little under two weeks left. She needs to understand what she’s signing these people up for.”
“And we need to learn how to handle them. I’ve been doing some research on dude ranches over the last few weeks. It’s profitable.”
My heart lurched. “You mean…you want to make this permanent?”
He shrugged. “I think we gotta change rather than put a bandage on it. We were struggling more than Dad let on. That’s why we were vulnerable to Jess. We had a cushion, but her cleaning us out proved we had weak spots in our foundation.”
I let that sit for a while, thinking it through. Maybe he was right. We’d do this reality show, have everything ready for guests, and a bunch of free publicity. Why not capitalize?
“We’ll have to have a meeting, and you can present your case for converting permanently.”
He tipped his hat at me. “Name the time. I’ll be there.”
It made me happy to know my brother was just as invested in the future of the ranch as I was. My radio crackled on my shoulder, and Tristan’s voice came over the line.
“Clint, we’ve got a situation at the stables.”
“Shit,” I grumbled. I didn’t need to hear any more; I just needed to get to her.
“What happened?” Buck asked.
I turned my horse and dug my heels in without answering, pushing him on at full speed. Buck was right behind me, but it was still a long ride home. If something had happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
When I arrived at the stables, I practically leapt from Max’s back, handing him off to the nearest stable hand. He looked at me with wide eyes. “They’re at the arena.”
My chest tightened and ached as fear unfurled in my gut. “What happened?”
“Wildfire started kicking.”
That was all I needed to hear. I ran, bolting for the arena with my heart in my throat. A few cowboys were crowding around a downed horse. Skye lay on his side, clearly sedated as our local veterinarian, Clara Barnes palpated a
gash on his shoulder. My gaze immediately swept the arena as I searched for my brother and Ever.
Relief flooded me at the sight of her, standing near the gate, worry on her face. I ran to her, opening the gate the moment I reached it.
“You okay? What happened?”
She shook her head. “I don’t…I was done riding, breaking for lunch. I got off, and Tristan took him from me. I wanted to take him around a bit more before we switched to a trail ride.”
“And Wildfire?”
“Someone brought Wildfire in to work with him. He reared and got out of the rider’s hands. Then he just started kicking out at Skye.”
“That horse doesn’t belong in the arena with other horses yet. He’s too unpredictable. Tristan knows that.”
“He said that and told me to get back the moment they came in.”
“Is Tristan okay?”
She nodded. “He got out of the way. He jumped free, and eventually subdued Wildfire.”
“Where is that fucking horse?”
“I don’t know. Is Skye going to be okay?”
I took off my hat and ran my hand through my hair. I wasn’t sure. “I need to go talk to Clara first. It looks like most of the damage is up on his shoulder, so it might just be some stitches and antibiotics. Unless there’s a break.”
“Then what?”
“Depends.” I took her elbow and tugged her along with me, needing the contact and assurance she was safe. “Let’s go see what Clara thinks.”
I could feel Ever’s tension and worry. It radiated off her in waves. She glanced up at me with tears in her eyes. “I know it’s only been a few days, but I kind of love that damn horse. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
My grip on her loosened and turned into something else. She hooked her arm through mine, and the two of us walked together. We were equals here. Both invested in the situation.
Clara’s eyes met mine as soon as we reached the place where Skye was being treated. “How’s it look, Doc?”
“So far, I think it’s only superficial. Stitches and antibiotics.”
Ever squeezed my arm with hers.
“Good.”
“I need to do an x-ray.”
I nodded. “Whatever you have to do.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Ever asked from my side.
“I think so.” Clara’s expression was calm and soothing. “The x-ray is just a precaution at this point. He’s all stitched up, and with some rest and rehab, I think he’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks, Doc. The guys will get him to his stall and make sure he’s safe.”
Clara smiled at both of us and went back to work on Skye. I pulled Ever a little closer. “We’d better find Tristan. I’ll bet he’s rattled.”
With a slight shake of her head, she freed her hold on me. “I think I need a minute. Maybe a break for something to eat. I didn’t have breakfast. And you weren’t even there to make me late this time.”
God, had it really been a week since the two of us woke on her couch? “Sure. Head into the main lodge. Mama will have something in the kitchen you can eat. She’s always got the fixings for sandwiches.”
“Okay.” She started away from me, hips swinging in a tantalizing sway I couldn’t ignore. Then she glanced back at me, a frown furrowing her brow. “You came to me first.”
“What?”
“You didn’t go to Skye, or look for Tristan. You came for me.”
My neck and cheeks heated, and I hoped my collar hid the color I knew was creeping up my skin. “You’re new. You were the first I thought might get hurt.”
A little of the light left her eyes, and she pursed her lips. “Right. That’s what I thought.”
Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the arena, carefully shutting the gate behind her. She didn’t look back this time, but damn did I want her to.
9
Ever
Mama Ryker grinned at me over her steaming mug of something that smelled a lot like apple cider. I’d expected to go in, slap together a sandwich, and eat before anyone was the wiser to my presence. That wasn’t how it had worked. Mama had been sitting at the kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle and two slow cookers simmered on the counter.
“Boots off, miss,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Tell me what’s got you looking like someone spit in your coffee?”
“Skye got hurt. Kicked by Wildfire.” I sat on the low bench at the door and tugged until both my boots came off. I made my way to the sink and gave my hands a vigorous washing.
“In the arena? What was that horse doing in there? He’s not ready. Tristan should’ve known better.” She stood and crossed to where I was standing, reaching past me and grabbing a mug.
“That’s what Clint said. But Tristan didn’t bring Wildfire in. One of the ranch hands did.”
She opened the lid of one of the slow cookers, and the crisp scent of apples and cinnamon filled the air as she ladled the golden liquid into a mug for me. “One of the former ranch hands. He’ll be without a job by now.”
“Just like that?” I asked, taking the offered coffee cup.
“Exactly like that. We can’t keep a ranch running with idiots working the horses. Someone will end up hurt or killed.”
“I guess you’re right. In my industry, it’s not so dire when someone messes up. And I’ve seen assistants fired for something little like putting two Splendas in a coffee instead of one.”
She shook her head and took a sip. “Something to eat?”
“Do you mind? Clint said to come here.”
She laughed and strolled to the fridge. “The ranch hands eat in the bunkhouse dining hall.”
Alarm shot through me. “Oh, I’m sorry. Clint said—“
“You’re not a ranch hand. You’re saving us, saving Clint, so that makes you family.”
“What do you mean, I’m saving Clint?”
“He lost more than money when Jess left. She ruined him when it comes to trusting women. But I can see even in the little time you’ve been here, he’s opening up ever so slowly.”
My heart fluttered. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
“No, but you’re showing him it’s okay to trust.”
Was I? I hoped so. We sat together and ate sandwiches of thick cuts of ham on homemade sourdough while we chatted about my job and what life was like in LA. By the time we were finished, it felt like we’d been friends for years. She was easy and frankly, wonderful. I took her plate to the sink along with mine and began washing up, heart light at the comfort this house gave me.
The back door opened, and I heard them before I saw them. Clint and Tristan were arguing about Wildfire and what they should do with him.
“We have to sell him. He’s going to kill someone,” Clint said. “He’s not worth that risk. What if Ever had been on him?”
“You know as well as I do it takes time and patience to get a horse to settle in. He shouldn’t have been inside that arena.”
“What are you trying to prove with that horse? He’s been here long enough, and no one can ride him; no one can train him, not even you. He could have killed Skye today.”
I watched them from where I stood at the sink. They looked so alike when they were angry. Dark brows furrowed, eyes glinting with challenge. Clint took off his hat and hung it on one of the hooks over the bench, and Tristan followed suit. Clint’s eyes found mine and softened.
“You get enough to eat?” he asked.
I nodded. “Just cleaning up before I go muck out Skye’s stall. Then I’m on tack cleaning duty, right, Tristan?”
Tristan grinned. “Right.”
I wiped my hands on the towel hanging on the stove and strode past them. Sitting on the bench, I shoved my feet into my boots and grinned when they each went on without trouble, but part of me--a traitorous part—wanted Clint to come help me again.
“Ever, honey?” Mama Ryker called. “Come on to the house for supper tonight. Family dinner. Want you to
meet Sera.”
Clint and Tristan both stopped what they were doing and stared from me to her. Clint narrowed his eyes. “Sera’s coming home?”
She beamed. “Sera’s coming home. Can you believe it?”
Tristan bit his lower lip and fought a grin. “How long is she staying?”
“Well, she didn’t give me a firm time.”
“Ten bucks says she broke it off with her guy and needs a place to crash until she gets another job.”
“Tristan, don’t talk about her like that. She’s young. She’s still figuring it all out.”
“She’s not that much younger than me.”
“And look at how together your life is. You’re single, living in the bunkhouse, and you bring a new girl home at least three nights a week. I wouldn’t be casting stones.”
Discomfort crept along my skin. This seemed like a personal conversation I didn’t want to be part of. Standing, I buttoned my coat and slipped on my work gloves. “I’ll just get to that stall mucking,” I said.
“I’ll help,” Clint offered, opening the door for me.
Together we walked out of the kitchen and both audibly sighed as the cold air hit us. “That was awkward.” I looked at him and waited for some kind of chastisement or disparaging comment. After all, they were his family, and I was pretty much still a stranger.
“Fucking right.” He laughed as we walked. “Mama’s always been soft on her. Sera’s the only girl. That’s how it is with the baby of the family. Girl could get away with murder if she only needed Mama to cover for her.”
We walked down the cold path to the stable, the air seeping into my bones and making me shiver. Light snowflakes danced down from the clouds, falling onto my eyelashes before melting onto my cheeks.
“Are you really going to help me muck out stalls?”
He nodded and grabbed a wheelbarrow. I snagged the pitchfork off the wall, and the two of us spent the next hour picking out dirty straw and replacing it with fresh. By the time I was done, everything hurt. My back and hips and shoulders screamed at me in revolt.
