by Brenda Gayle
“Callum says I can run his family’s ranch while he runs the development business. It’s not as big as Tres Hermanos, but at least I’ll be the one in charge. And maybe, in time, the old…” She stopped suddenly, looked anxiously at Hunter, and then turned away, biting her lip.
He knew what she had been about to say and it pierced him like a stake through his heart. Maybe in time the old men would allow her to run Tres Hermanos. For that to happen, though, Hunter would have to tell them that he had no intention of taking over the ranch.
Anna had known for years he didn’t want to run Tres Hermanos. But until he made his intentions clear, she couldn’t even broach the subject of the ranch’s succession with the old men. And yet, she had never pushed him to tell his father and Uncle Ike, the two surviving brothers. That just worsened his guilt.
He didn’t want to pursue the conversation any more. He’d gotten the information he’d come for—incomplete as it was.
“I promised Nora I’d take her horseback riding. She never got to go when she was a kid.” He stood, intending to go to the kitchen to get Nora, but he could tell by the concern in Anna’s eyes that he looked awful.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his distress from his aunts, and certainly not from Nora. He needed some time to pull himself together. He didn’t want his mood to spoil this day for Nora. “I’m going to go saddle the horses. Can you bring her to the south paddock after you’ve finished here?”
****
“I’m sorry my calls took longer than I expected. I hope my mother and aunt didn’t talk your ear off,” Anna said.
“Oh no, they’re lovely.” Nora followed Anna along a dirt path that led from the houses to the stable.
The unseasonably warm weather had moved out overnight, bringing with it menacing clouds and a frosty chill. It was colder here than in the city, and Nora shivered. She stopped, placed the picnic basket Betty had given her on the ground, and pulled on the riding gloves Anna had lent her.
Nora had watched Betty pack the basket with a thermos of coffee, sandwiches, and some of the delicious Dundee cake. She wasn’t sure how they were supposed to carry the basket on horseback, but she didn’t comment on it.
Anna seemed less animated than earlier, and Nora wondered if it was the result of her phone calls or her conversation with Hunter. He hadn’t said he was going to talk to Anna, but he’d left the kitchen so quickly after his cousin that Nora was certain he had. She wondered if Anna was the reason for this sudden visit home.
“Is this where the ranch hands live?” she asked pointing to the two-story apartment-like complex they passed.
“Some of the single guys and the temporary ones we hire during our busy season,” Anna said. “Most of our hands have families and live in their own houses not too far from the ranch. The lead hand lives in my grandparent’s house, a few miles away, near the cattle operation.”
“That explains why there’s no cattle here,” Nora said, looking around at the empty vista that extended toward the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. She tried to imagine what it would be like growing up here, the freedom a child would have to roam and explore. But then, maybe not. It was a working ranch. How much free time would a child have? “It must have been tough growing up on the ranch. A lot of chores to do.”
Anna stopped and turned to her. The shape of her face and her eyes were so similar to Hunter’s, even the way she cocked her head to one side and quirked her mouth into a half-smile. “Did Hunter tell you that?”
“No, but he did kind of hint that his father and uncles were strict.”
“Oh yeah, that’s true, but they were never around.” Anna laughed, her mood lightening. “Growing up here was paradise. There’s a stream that runs parallel to the road you drove in on, and it has the most marvelous swimming hole—even a rope swing across it. We had horses, and lots of room to ride them. And there was always someone around so our mothers didn’t get all panicky about where we were.”
“It sounds like heaven,” Nora said.
“It was,” Anna agreed. “Our mothers believed that children should have the opportunity to be children, and so we had a lot of freedom. And we also had a lot of love. It was like we had three mothers—each one gave us something different.”
“Three?” Nora thought of her own childhood. One mother had been more than enough.
“Betty, my mother, is the oldest. She’s also the nurturing one—the stereotypical mom. She’s the one we went to when we needed a hug or a last minute item for the bake sale.” Anna laughed. “Hunter used to tell her there was a school bake sale about once a month so she’d whip up a batch of brownies or something, which he and I ate ourselves. I’m pretty sure Mom knew, but she always baked them for him.”
Anna stopped walking and leaned against a tree. They were close to the stable, and Nora could see Hunter leading a horse into the paddock.
“Aunt Ginny is the fun one,” Anna continued. “If you want a party or to pull a practical joke, she’s the one to go to. Mom used to say it was difficult to distinguish Ginny from the kids, she’d often come back from some adventure just as filthy as the rest of us.”
Nora watched Hunter disappear back into the stable. Across the field, a horse and rider were racing toward the paddock at breakneck speed.
“And Hunter’s mom?” Nora tried to sound casual. She didn’t want Anna to get the impression she was interested in Hunter with all her questions, but she was very, very curious about his life.
“Aunt Elizabeth.” Anna sighed and turned back to Nora. “She was our conscience. She taught us to look beyond Rancho Tres Hermanos—to recognize just how privileged we were and that we had a responsibility to use what we have to help others who are less fortunate. Not surprising, I guess. You know who her parents were?”
“Yes.”
“She was the one who set up the Graham Foundation.”
“I know,” Nora said. “We—I mean my association received some money for one of our child poverty programs. You should be really proud of it. It’s helped so many people over the years.”
Anna nodded. “Yes, I know. It does very good work. Unfortunately, it’s been drifting since my aunt died. It’s my fault, I know. I’m supposed to be the head of it, but I just don’t have the passion it needs. We have an executive director who’s very good at the day-to-day business, but it lacks the vision that it had under Aunt Elizabeth.”
“You’d rather run the ranch,” Nora said. It wasn’t a question.
Anna shrugged. “I think Hunter’s ready for you.” She pushed away from the tree and led the way down the slight decline to the stable. “You’re the first girl he’s ever brought here, you know.”
The statement startled Nora and she tugged on Anna’s arm to stop her before they got close enough for Hunter to overhear them. “You shouldn’t read anything into that. He’s been very kind—I’ve had some, ah, problems lately and he’s been helping me out. There’s nothing going on between us. We’re just…friends.”
Anna’s face broke into a smile similar to the one Nora had become accustomed to seeing on Hunter’s face when he thought she’d said or done something ridiculous. She felt weakened by the familiar sense of irritation.
“You’re surprised?” Nora tried not to sound defensive.
“No, I’m not surprised at all. But I’ll bet Hunter is.”
Chapter 13
What are they talking about?
Hunter surreptitiously watched Nora and Anna approach. Their conversation seemed pretty intense. That shouldn’t surprise him. Nora was incapable of inconsequential chitchat, as evidenced by the debate she’d gotten into with Aunt Ginny. Still, they were taking a long time to reach him, stopping and starting. They had started walking again.
“You didn’t call.”
He stiffened at the voice. He’d been so distracted by Nora and Anna that he hadn’t noticed the arrival of another person in the paddock.
He turned slowly and looked up. Taylor.
She
looked magnificent on the large bay. Her blue jeans clung to her, revealing the powerful thighs of a horsewoman. His gaze traveled up them to the perfect ass, past the waist-length shearling jacket, and rested on her face. Despite the note of displeasure in her voice she was smiling down at him, fully aware of the effect she had on men—him included.
“Hello Taylor,” he said. “Little far from home, aren’t you?”
“I heard you’d decided to honor us with your presence, and thought I’d be part of the welcoming committee.”
“Very funny.” He bristled. Nora and Anna were almost at the paddock, and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to avoid introducing Nora to Taylor this time.
“Is that who I think it is?” Taylor sounded incredulous. “That oddball from your grandmother’s party the other night? Oh Hunter, you can’t be serious. Is this some sort of community service work you’re doing?”
“Knock it off, Taylor.”
“Please don’t tell me she’s the reason you haven’t called.”
Hunter turned away, afraid any response would provoke her and cause a scene in front of Nora. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much—Nora meeting Taylor. Taylor was a neighbor, the kid sister of an old friend. No one knew they’d been intimate. And even if, somehow, Nora found out, what difference would that make? There was nothing between Nora and him, and she knew his reputation.
“Hey Taylor,” Anna called out.
Hunter found himself watching Nora’s face as Anna and Taylor exchanged greetings. She didn’t seem to be upset about anything, so whatever she and Anna had been discussing couldn’t have been all that serious.
He glanced at Anna as she introduced Nora to Taylor. He wondered if Taylor knew about Anna and Cal. Probably not. He never had the impression she and her brother were very close. In addition to the age difference, Cal was very serious and business-minded, whereas Taylor loved the role of carefree heiress.
“Yes, I think I saw you at Libby Hunter’s party last week. We weren’t introduced, though,” Taylor said. “Why was that, Hunter?”
He shrugged. “There were a lot of people there.”
He reached over the rails to take the picnic basket from Nora and began distributing its contents between the saddlebags on the two horses.
Taylor was asking Nora a lot of questions—about her background and how she knew Hunter. He glared at Anna, willing her to intervene. She just raised her eyebrows in response, apparently prepared to let him stew—probably in retaliation for their earlier conversation. Damn her.
“Okay, we’re ready,” Hunter said louder than was necessary.
“Are you going on a picnic? How lovely. Maybe I’ll join you,” Taylor said.
“Of course,” Nora said. “The more the merrier. Anna, are you coming?”
“Oh, no thanks,” Anna said, grinning at Hunter.
“Not this time, Taylor,” Hunter said. “Only enough food for two.”
“Then I’ll just come for the ride,” Taylor said, her voice deceptively sweet.
“No.”
All three women seemed taken aback by the vehemence of his response. Taylor looked furious; Nora surprised; and Anna just continued smirking, taking far too much enjoyment in his discomfort.
“Fine,” Taylor said. “I’ll look forward to your call, Hunter.” She turned the bay and cantered across the paddock. Ignoring the gate, she executed a perfect jump over the rails.
“Subtle,” Anna said.
“Don’t you have something to do—paperwork or...something?” Hunter glared at her.
She sighed. “Yeah, I do.” She reached out and grasped Nora’s hands. “Have fun.” Then she turned and headed back up the path to the house.
Hunter held out a hand to help Nora crawl through the rails into the paddock. “Let me introduce you to Miss Haversham,” he said, leading her to the dapple-gray mare.
“Miss Haversham?”
“Yes. My grandmother Graham had two favorite authors—God and Charles Dickens. Her children got biblical names and the animals are all named after Dickens’ characters. Fortunately, for me, the old men discontinued the practice of Biblical names for their kids, but the Dickens tradition has stuck for the horses.”
“If mine is Miss Haversham, what’s yours?” Nora pointed to the large black stallion Hunter always chose when he was home.
“That is Nicholas Nickleby,” he said. “But you can call him Nick.”
“Does mine have a nickname? Miss Haversham is a bit of a mouthful.”
“Missy.”
Nora walked over to the gray, and began stroking her muzzle and murmuring to her. “She’s big,” she said turning to look at Hunter.
Hunter smiled to himself. Missy was a quarter horse, only fourteen hands—about four-and-a-half feet. His own mount was a good foot taller at seventeen hands. “She’s used to inexperienced riders. You’ll be fine.”
He allowed Nora a few more moments to get used to the horse and then joined them, taking the reins and leading her to a mounting block. “This will make it easier for you to get on,” he said.
Nora followed and without any hesitation climbed the block, swung her leg over Missy’s back and slipped her feet into the stirrups, whose length Hunter was pleased to see he had estimated perfectly. He handed her the reins.
“Okay, we’ll walk around the paddock a few times and then head off.” He took hold of the halter and began to walk slowly.
“Do you need to do that?” Nora said.
“Do what?”
“Hold on like that. Can’t I do it on my own?”
Figures. He released the halter and watched her make a circle of the paddock.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she called.
He shook his head, amazed. He didn’t know if she was fearless or confident or what. In any event, she seemed to have the hang of it, so he mounted Nick and led them out the gate.
They were able to ride side-by-side as they crossed the field and headed to the mountain trail. Nora hadn’t said anything since they’d left the paddock and he turned to look at her, to make certain she was all right.
The look of sheer joy on her face took his breath away. She was like a little kid on Christmas morning, her eyes were wide in delight and she wore an enormous smile.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“This is so much better than I imagined.” Her voice was throaty from excitement.
The wind had picked up, loosening her hair from its ponytail. Hunter watched, mesmerized, as it whipped around her face. He wanted to release the rest of her hair and let it dance in the wind as she bounced up and down on the dapple-gray mare. Only it wasn’t the horse he wanted her bouncing up and down on. He wanted to be the one bringing that look of bliss to her face. He wanted her breathless for him.
“Can we go faster?”
What? Oh man, get a grip.
Nora was pushing Missy to go faster, digging her heels into the mare’s sides and whipping on the reins.
“Nora, no. Wait!”
It happened so quickly he didn’t have time to react. Missy stopped suddenly, lowered her head and kicked up her back feet, throwing her rider forward. Nora somersaulted over Missy’s head and landed hard on her back. She lay motionless with her eyes closed.
Hunter leapt off Nick and raced to Nora. He knelt beside her and brushed the loose strands of hair off her face. His heart was pounding so loudly he barely heard himself speak. “Nora, are you okay? Speak to me, sweetheart.”
Slowly she opened one eye, then the other. His sense of relief was overwhelming. He closed his eyes and uttered a brief prayer of gratitude.
“I guess she didn’t want to go faster,” Nora said, starting to sit up.
Hunter pinned her shoulders to the ground, forcing her to remain lying down. “No, wait a minute. I need to make sure you’re okay, that you haven’t got a concussion or broken any bones.”
Nora struggled to free her arms and then swatted at his hands, giving him a look of disdain
. “I’m fine.” She sat up, flexed her arms, fingers and feet. “See, nothing broken. What happened? Why did she throw me?”
He sat back and shook his head. “It’s the damnedest thing. She usually has the sweetest disposition. I guess if anyone could piss her off, though, it would be you.”
“Hey, that’s not fair.” Nora didn’t seem upset by his assessment—in fact, she looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Besides, I thought you said Miss Haversham was used to inexperienced riders?”
“She is. The problem is you don’t ride like a typical beginner. You’re too confident. She doesn’t know what to do with you. Not an uncommon dilemma, I might add.”
Nora leaned back on her elbows and gazed at him with her dark coffee brown eyes. Damn, a man could get lost in those eyes if he wasn’t careful. Then she licked her lips and it was all he could do not to pin her to the ground and take her right there.
“I think my fall really scared you,” she said.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’ve reverted to your safe position—you’re flirting with me.”
“What do you mean my ‘safe position’?”
“You see it with children all the time. When they’re confronted with something that frightens them, or something they don’t understand, they adopt behaviors that are familiar to them, even if they’re inappropriate for the situation. You aren’t used to dealing with women in a non-sexual way, so—”
“You think this is a conversation about sex?”
“Are you denying it?”
He knew she was perceptive, but was she a mind reader, too? How could she know what he’d been thinking? “Maybe I’m flirting with you because I find you attractive.”
“Unlikely,” Nora said.
“Oh? And why not?”
“Because I’m not your type.”
She said it matter-of-factly, as if it didn’t bother her. Why doesn’t it bother her? He wanted it to bother her.
He was finding it difficult to breathe. He didn’t want to analyze why he was feeling as though his whole body was a roaring blue flambé. He just knew that he wanted to extinguish his flame in her.
