by Jen Peters
She sat, dejected, until the cement sidewalk made her whole backside as numb as her thoughts. She had six dogs to care for now, a car on its last legs, and a parent losing patience. Well, her mother would never say so, but Robin could tell.
So where did that leave her? Keep on keeping on was a fine saying, but just keeping on wasn’t going to cut it. What about when the going gets tough, the tough get going? She didn’t feel very tough. Tough meant being a fighter, going after what you want, and not giving up. And she was a keep-your-head-down-and-try-to-survive type person.
But just surviving didn’t mean she couldn’t also look for ways to make something work. It didn’t mean she couldn’t try to be just a little bit tough.
She stood up and shook her legs, trying to get some feeling back in her rear end. She paced in front of the building, marshaling one thought after another.
“Okay, then,” she murmured aloud. Just like a marketing presentation, the first thing she needed to do was decide the specific outcome she was after, not just the general idea of finding a building. She needed to break things down into smaller pieces.
She needed to get home and get to work.
Chapter 11
Cliff spent the next few days practically living on the tractor. Irrigation pipe needed to be moved every day, the cattle needed to be shifted to new grazing twice a week, and Uncle Phil had him digging post holes to split the front paddock in half.
He shifted the lever to pull the tractor’s auger back up, and the rich smell of earth warmed his soul. There wasn’t a job in the world he’d rather be doing. He gazed down the valley at the weedy field next to their west border—it was a good bit of acreage, and he still thought his uncle should consider expanding. Money seemed tighter than he’d expected, but more land would let them run more cattle.
The last post hole was finally done, and Cliff ran the tractor back to the barn.
“Hold up a minute, bud,” his uncle called from under the baler. He wormed his way out, his coveralls sporting fresh grease patches. He got to his feet slowly, and Cliff realized that age and a lifetime of ranching were taking their toll on him.
“Jess wants you to go to town and pick up a prescription for her, and visit your grandma while you’re there. She’s only halfway through the pears she’s putting up and she doesn’t want to stop.”
Cliff’s heart took a couple extra beats—going to town meant he might see Robin. For all his determination, she just wouldn’t stay out of his head. And maybe he was tired of fighting with himself.
“Sure, just let me get cleaned up first.”
A shower and a splash of aftershave later, he was on his way. The drive-through at the pharmacy was fast, and then he was walking through the halls of the rehab hospital. His eyes searched every long corridor, every seating area on the way to Grandma’s room, but there was no sign of Robin and no sounds of a dog being cooed over.
Grandma was looking good though—someone had done her hair and put pink polish on her nails. She squeezed his hand with a lopsided grin.
“How you?” she said.
“I’m just fine, Grandma. And it looks like you’re doing pretty well, too.” He told her about the ranch, Aunt Jess’s pears, and his rides out on Zeus.
She nodded, then pursed her lips with concentration. “Gur?”
“Girl? You mean Robin?”
She nodded again.
Cliff gave a rueful smile. “I haven’t seen her in a few days—busy on the ranch.”
Grandma gave him a hard stare and Cliff held up his hands. “I really have been busy, Grams. But I’m…” He sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend, don’t have room in my life right now, and certainly not one who… But Grandma, there’s something about her, and I guess I have to admit I was hoping I’d see her today.”
Grandma smiled and her eyes brightened. She worked her mouth again. “You do. Geeber.”
“Geeber? Oh, keeper! Yeah, I think she might be, too. We’ll see what—”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Jackson,” an aide said cheerfully. “It’s time for physical therapy again.”
Cliff leaned over to kiss Grandma’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, Grams. Work hard so you can come home!”
Back in his truck, Cliff took a deep breath and headed for the ranch. He’d see Robin when he saw her, if it was meant to be. Although he wasn’t sure he believed in fate or soulmates or anything.
But as he turned left around the park, there she was. She had the three-legged dog with her and was talking to an old guy at a table.
Maybe someone was setting things up for him.
He parked and walked over. “Hey, Robin.”
Robin turned. Was it his imagination or did her face light up when she saw him? “Cliff, hi! Oh, this is Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown, this is Cliff Jackson, Phil Jackson’s nephew.”
Mr. Brown shook his hand. “I know your uncle. He’s a good man.”
“Yes, sir, thank you,” Cliff said.
Mr. Brown looked back at Robin. “You’ve spent enough time with this old man, Robin. You two go off and do whatever young folk do these days.”
Robin blushed and kissed his grizzled cheek while Cliff tried to keep from puffing up inside. They walked along the edge of the park. Was she a friend, or almost a girlfriend?
“I really ought to be getting home. The dogs will complain about dinnertime.”
“Want a lift?” He’d like more than five minutes in the truck, but he’d take what he could get.
“Sure, if you’ve got room for Soldier, too.”
He lifted the dog onto the bench seat before Robin climbed in. They drove around the park, but before they got to the main road, Cliff asked, “Where does that go?”
Robin looked down the street where he pointed. “Oh, back through an older part of town and then it comes out the other side of our house.”
“I haven’t explored much. Mind if we go that way?” He’d take whatever extra few minutes he could have. Which, he guessed, put her in almost-girlfriend range. At least for him. He didn’t know what she felt.
Robin related childhood escapades, most involving her brother’s pranks, as they passed particular places. Cliff would rather she were sitting next to him, but Soldier made a solid divider. At least she was sitting half-sideways so she could look at him. And he liked the idea of her wanting to look at him. Definitely almost-girlfriend.
She was telling how Justin fell out of an old lady’s apple tree when she broke off suddenly. “Stop, Cliff!”
He slammed on the brakes and turned the way she was pointing, but didn’t see much. Just an empty lot filled with weeds.
“Down there—go around and back down the alley.”
Cliff obediently took the next left, then left again into a small alley. “What did you see?”
“Something worth checking out. I hope.”
Chapter 12
Cliff parked the truck where she motioned, and they got out in front of an old cinder block building, leaving Soldier dozing on the seat. It looked like the building might once have been blue, but there wasn’t much paint left. Grimy windows blocked their view of the inside.
Robin paced the length of it, counting by threes. “About 60 feet long, and maybe a little longer going back. Do you think it would be big enough?”
“For what?”
She looked down at her feet. “Well, you said I was already running an animal shelter, so I’ve been thinking about setting up a real one.”
He picked her up and swung her around. “That’s fantastic! You’re really going to do it!”
She blushed as he set her down, and took a step back. “I’m going to try, anyway.”
His arms felt empty. Focus. “How many dogs you fixing to have again? At one time?”
“Maybe six or eight to start,” she said, peering in vain through the windows. “But we’d grow, I’m sure. Come on, lets go around back.”
Cliff frowned when he looked at the back d
oor. The window next to it was broken out. He didn’t think they had much vandalism around town, and he wondered why this hadn’t been boarded up.
“Cliff, help me up?”
He gave her a puzzled glance.
“You gave me a leg up onto a horse—now I need a leg up here.”
“You want to go through that?”
Robin nodded. “How else am I going to check it out?”
Cliff shook his head. No way was he letting her crawl through those jagged shards. Instead, he whipped off his shirt and wrapped it around his arm. He heard her catch her breath. “What?”
She didn’t say anything, just looked away. He shrugged. She must have seen a ton of guys without their shirts, especially working in the summer. He tucked one end of the shirt into the bundle he made, gave a sigh at ruining one of his favorites, and began brushing off the glass that remained in the window. “If you’re determined to crawl through, we might as well cut down on how much sewing up you’ll need.”
“I appreciate that,” she said dryly. But she was lifting her heel for a boost, and she was slender enough to fit without too much problem. There wasn’t much he could say to stop her.
He lifted her lightly into the air and steadied her as she maneuvered through the window. The pressure of her leg against his chest had his heart beating rapidly. He talked himself down—it was no different than anyone else he had boosted up to do anything. He tried to focus but couldn’t help the feel of her slender leg. She leaned sideways, and he had his cheek against her hip. He caught his breath. She was soft and strong at the same time.
He got to enjoy one more wriggle of her hips before she dropped to the floor inside, and he didn’t know if he was happy or sad that she got through. In a moment, he heard the deadbolt unlock, and she opened the door to him.
When Cliff entered, she was picking small pieces of glass and plaster from her scraped hand. “Are you okay? Let me see,” he said.
“No, I’m fine. Just look at this place.” She swept her arm around, turning her body as she did. “Isn’t it incredible?”
Cliff wasn’t sure. It was dim and chilly and dusty, which was to be expected, but it was hard to look beyond that. There were several rooms down one side, doors hanging open. A few old office chairs remained, along with a lone file drawer on its side, and dirt covered everything.
“It’s wonderful!” Robin exclaimed. “Can’t you just see it all?”
Cliff made a wry face. “Not really. It doesn’t seem big enough.”
She glanced at him, then averted her eyes. What was with that?
Oh.
“Sorry, my bare chest is the price you have to pay for getting in here. I’m sorry if it embarrasses you.”
“It doesn’t. I just… It doesn’t matter.” She turned away again, but not before he caught a blush rising up her face. “Now look,” she said, striding quickly over the area. “The greeting area could be here, and the office there, and a couple of dog kennels back here.”
“Robin, you know ‘a couple of dog kennels’ won’t be enough. And don’t you need a place for people to spend time with the dogs?”
Her shoulders sagged. “And a place for their food. And a bathing station, with a place for Dr. Jan to do an exam.”
She looked so dejected that all Cliff wanted to do was put his arms around her, but evidently, that wouldn’t sit well as long as he was shirtless. The next best thing was encouragement. “You could do a small addition if you got funding. Put your specialty rooms along here and the kennels out behind. You’d have room for a couple of runs, too.”
“A grant. Right. Like that’s going to happen.”
“Well, why not? Isn’t Mitchell Blake doing grants for small businesses? I’d think he would jump at the chance to help with this.”
Robin gasped and turned to him, visibly brighter. “Of course! If Mitch will give me a grant, even for part of the costs, I could make this place perfect.”
“You mean we could make it perfect.” He crossed the room to her now, standing so close he could smell the shampoo in her hair. “You know I’ll be here for it all.”
She looked down, but he could feel the pull. He fingered a lock of her soft brown hair and felt her quiver under his touch. “Robin,” he whispered.
She shook her head, but leaned a fraction of an inch toward him.
He bent closer and stroked her hair, all the way down to the ends that lay down her back. “This isn’t quite the setting I would have picked for our first kiss, but…”
She looked up slowly and met his lips with hers, a feather light touch that sent tingles through his spine. He pulled back slowly and met her eyes, soft brown and questioning. He lowered his head again and kept his kiss soft, but let it linger.
Eyes still closed, he felt Robin’s fingertips in his hair. She clasped his neck as her mouth mingled with his, tasting like strawberries and chocolate. He cupped her face and kissed her more deeply as her hands stroked down his neck and across his shoulders, then quickly escaped back to his head.
He could kiss her all day, her mouth warm and inviting, her sweet, soft scent filling his soul. His body ached and he pulled back—neither of them was ready for more, not for a long time. Her eyes were shining as he kissed her lightly once more and tried to pull himself back to the present.
He looked through the dust motes hanging in the air. “So who do you think owns this place?”
Robin took a moment to find her voice. “I have no idea. I didn’t even know it was here. We could go to the town offices and find out.”
He kissed her neck, right at the lovely curve where it met her collar bone. “Good idea. In a minute.” He indulged himself with one more delicious kiss, then grabbed her hand and led her back out the door, leaving it unlocked. There wasn’t much for anyone to steal anyway.
Robin greeted Soldier while Cliff found a rumpled t-shirt stuck behind his seat and pulled it over his head. At her house, they let Soldier out with the other dogs and bandaged her hand. Intermingled with another kiss or two, of course. He just couldn’t seem to stop.
They reached the town hall just before closing. A clerk was happy to look up the tax records for the place and came back looking puzzled.
“It looks like the town is the owner,” she said. “I didn’t know we owned that building.”
“The town? So who would we talk to about it?”
“Probably the town council,” the clerk said. “They don’t meet for another two weeks, but I can give you a list of their contact information.”
Robin’s face fell, and Cliff gave her unhurt hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry,” he said. “So you just send an email instead of talking to them in the office. They’ll be happy to help—they didn’t even realize they owned it.”
“You don’t get it,” Robin said. “This town likes its history, and they never let anything into anybody else’s hands for fear it will get changed some way they don’t like. Like when they gave approval for a family-style pub and it ended up being a regular bar with bologna sandwiches.”
She leaned against the wall, her gaze fixed on her shoes while they waited for the clerk to print the contact list for them.
By the time they reached his truck, Cliff had sorted his thoughts out. He opened the door for her and held out a hand to help her in. Once he climbed in the other side, he said, “You’ll just need to create a presentation for them, convince them that this is a good thing for the town. And you’ve got all the skills you need to do that.”
She was silent as he drove. Finally, she murmured, “Will you help me?”
His heart melted. “Of course I’ll help you. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She smiled finally, a wan smile, but a smile nonetheless. All the warm, protective feelings he’d ever had came out. Whatever she needed, he’d do. Despite his earlier caution.
Boy, was he getting in deep.
Chapter 13
Robin paced the floor, waiting for Cliff to pick her up. She’d spent t
he last few days drawing up plans for the abandoned building, getting estimates from Justin, calculating operating expenses—including a thousand or fifteen hundred for rent.
And reliving that kiss.
She’d had to come up with a few excuses when someone asked what she was smiling about. And Ree—Ree demanded a play-by-play and Robin wouldn’t give it to her, just smiled and sighed until Ree smacked her with a pillow. But it was a kiss she could swoon over every time she thought about it, and she couldn’t quite make herself believe there wouldn’t be another one. Cliff had called her once, but they didn’t really know what to talk about besides her shelter proposal and how the sick horse was doing.
Would he kiss her again? Was she falling in love, or was she just acting like a silly adolescent? And if it was turning to love, did he feel anything close to the same?
So she paced. And paced some more, until Cliff finally arrived—right on time.
She met his eyes, then looked down, embarrassed at what he might see in her face. Inside the truck, she ran her fingers along the edge of her folder, over and over, but she couldn’t say if it was because she was so close to Cliff again or if it was nerves about asking Mitchell Blake for a grant.
In too short a time, they pulled up at the McCormick Inn, the white trim offsetting the sky blue exterior as it gleamed brilliantly in the sun. She opened the truck door, but Cliff put a hand on her arm.
“Wait a minute,” he murmured. He leaned over, almost in slow motion, giving her a chance to back away. But the pull inside her was strong and she met his lips softly. He touched her face and kissed her gently again. “I believe in you. You can do this.”
Robin nodded, then kissed him firmly, suddenly confident about all sorts of things. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
She trotted up the stairs and into the inn, the elegance of the restored mansion taking her breath away almost as much as Cliff’s kiss. She hadn’t been there since celebrating the grand opening with Justin and Cat, and it wowed her nearly as much now. The sweeping staircase, the beautifully carved woodwork, polished floors, and now an attendant on duty at the desk all combined for an exquisite place to stay. “I’m here to see Mr. Blake,” she said.
