by Tess Oliver
He reached down and took the pail from my hand, making sure to first run his fingers over the skin on my arm. “I’ll carry this in to Libby and meet you in the barn.”
Libby had kindly washed the mud from my riding clothes. I pulled on the pants, and they felt no less foreign than the first day I’d worn them. I’d decided the best solution for my absurd mass of hair was a stout ribbon to hold it all back in one place. I pulled on my boots and headed down to say good-bye to Libby. She had sworn she wouldn’t need me to help in the kitchen this morning and insisted that I should go and have a good time. She seemed more than anxious for me to go.
“It is quite nippy out today. Here’s my coat,” Libby handed me a thick, heavy coat with a texture that reminded me a bit of a boat’s sail.
“You’ll be swimming in it, but it will keep you warm. It’s oilskin and I use it for rainy days, but it hasn’t gotten much use lately.”
I put my arms in the coat. The huge garment probably fell just below Libby’s hips, but on me, it hung nearly to my knees. The shoulder seams fell somewhere around mid arm, and the sleeves hung way past my hands. But practical Libby had a solution for everything. She picked up the edge of the sleeve and rolled it back until my hand popped out and then repeated it on the other side. Immediately after she’d freed my fingers, she covered them with leather gloves. They were at least a closer match to my own fingers. I felt rather like a small child as she tugged me around in the massive coat adjusting the fit.
She pulled the front of the coat shut and leaned back. Her head tilted from side to side as she admired her handiwork, and I was not completely certain that I’d be able to carry myself and my burdensome protective wear down the porch steps, let alone up onto a horse.
“Now, hold on a minute, and I’ll make you a couple of ham sandwiches to take along. The ride around the ranch is almost two hours.”
“Cade will be waiting,” I said.
She waved off my comment and reached into the wooden cabinet, she referred to as the icebox, where she stored eggs and cream. She pulled out a small plate with ham slices. The back door opened and Cade walked in.
It was obvious that he was forcing back a smile when he saw me being swallowed up by Libby’s coat.
“Libby, you get the strangest notions sometimes. How is she gonna ride a horse with that coat on?”
Libby didn’t look up from her task of preparing sandwiches. “She needed something to protect her from the cold.”
“Are you sure that’s all your trying to protect her from?” he asked.
Libby’s eyes widened with innocence as she pulled her attention away from slicing bread. “What on earth are you insinuating, Cade?”
Cade walked over and picked up a piece of ham. “I think you know exactly what I mean.” He pushed the meat into his mouth.
I found the whole exchange rather confusing. Libby seemed to have no more to say on the matter. She quickly returned her focus to the lunch. “Here are a couple of sandwiches to slide into your saddle bag. You’ll both be hungry later.”
Cade’s expression was one of annoyance fringed with humor as he took the sandwiches from Libby’s hand.
He nodded toward the door. “Come on, Lil’ Wrangler, let’s see if we can lift you and that ridiculous coat up into the saddle.”
My skills at mounting a horse were already less than graceful, but wearing the unwieldy coat, I must have been nothing short of comical. But with a bit of perseverance on my part, patience on the horse’s part, and physical pushing on Cade’s part, I was up and ready to ride around the ranch. . . on a horse. . . with my knight. When I’d stepped out under the rosy skies on that fateful day, never in a thousand centuries could I have pictured the sequence of events that had followed. And while I longed for home and for my family, I could not deny the excitement of this adventure I’d fallen into.
Not one hundred yards into our ride, I was thankful that Libby had draped me in her heavy coat. There were just enough smoky colored clouds lurking above to mask any warmth from the sun, and the breeze swirling up off the fields had a bitter snap to it.
Cade held a rope that held the horse that held me as we trotted out to the first pasture. The exhilaration of bumping along on the horse in the brisk air made me laugh once again.
Cade’s green eyes smiled as he twisted around in his saddle. “Every time I look back, you seem to be disappearing more and more into that coat.” He slowed River to a walk and Red slowed too.
My chin and mouth had dropped below the collar, and I had not wanted to lift my face from the warmth of the coat. I peered at him over the stiff edge. “Somehow the cold is different out here,” my voice was muffled by the heavy fabric. “In Salem there are many trees and buildings and even a continual blanket of fog from the sea. So even when it is cold outside, we’re shielded somewhat from freezing temperatures.” Not wanting to seem too much of a weakling or have Cade regret bringing me along, I bravely stretched up my neck, exposing the bottom half of my face to the cold air. “Out here, it seems, there is nothing to absorb the cold. It just dances freely across the land with nothing to impede its movement or strength. And with the clouds blocking out the sun. . . . Will those clouds help with the drought?”
His hat brim turned up as he squinted at the sky. “Nah, those are just drifters. They aren’t holding enough moisture for rain, and they’ll blow through before noon. The Farmer’s Almanac has predicted a rainy spring though, so hopefully, we’ll see an end to the drought soon.”
“What is the Farmer’s Almanac?”
He grinned back at me. “I guess you city folk don’t pay the Almanac much attention, but it is sort of a bible out here to us ranchers.”
My horse seemed stiff when we’d first left the barn, but he seemed to move freely now and caught up with Cade’s horse. “Well, I hope you get your rain this year. I can’t imagine the damage a shortage of water would bring.”
“Yeah, it’s not an easy life out here in Montana, but it’s the only life I know. I don’t think I’d ever leave.” He pressed his hat down and the long ends of his hair turned up on the collar of his coat. “I guess it’s a good thing Libby wrapped you up in that oilskin today. It’s colder than I’d expected.” He pulled River to a halt, and Red stopped as well. “We can turn back. I can take you in if it’s too cold.” His fingers pushed down the collar of my coat. “Although those lips aren’t blue yet.” His gaze lingered on my mouth longer than necessary for the color assessment.
“I’m fine. Once we get moving, I’m sure I’ll warm up more.” Admittedly, it was uncomfortably cold out, but I definitely wanted to continue.
River walked forward and on cue Red picked up his big feet and followed.
“If you never had a horse in Salem, how did you get around?”
“We walked. Everything was close, not like here where land seems to stretch on endlessly like the ocean.”
“Well, I know you didn’t walk to Montana.” He fell silent apparently expecting me to fill in the gap with exactly how I landed so far from home at the feet of a bear.
“No, I didn’t walk.” I pulled the coat tighter around me, not so much due to cold this time but rather to nerves. The train, had I known they existed, would have been a perfect explanation, but my burst of cowardice no longer made that a plausible option. “It’s a long story, Cade. I’ll tell you one day.”
He seemed to sense the distress his question had caused me and didn’t continue. “You ready to pick up the pace?”
My gloved fingers tightened around the leather reins. “I thought you’d never ask.”
My already tender bottom bounced from side to side landing each time with a thud on the saddle as the horses trotted to the first line of fencing. I couldn’t contain my laughter. My uncontrolled mirth seemed to make the horses go even faster until Cade slowed them down with the slightest movement of his hand. We reached a scraggly looking fence that, on first sight, seemed impossibly frail to keep in a cow or keep out a wolf, but then I
noticed the narrow coils of silver were dotted with menacingly sharp protrusions, sharp enough to tear the flesh off any animal silly enough to cross it.
“I’ve never seen a fence like that. It looks terrifying.”
“The barbed wire? I guess you don’t have any need for it in Salem. It’s as important as water out here. Once free range ranching ended, ranchers needed a cheap way to keep the cattle from wandering. Best invention of the century, in my opinion. But you never want to get too close to it. I can tell you that from experience.”
“I would expect a great deal of pain and blood and some stitching. I guess it would be rather like getting slapped by a bear.”
“No, your bear attack has my barbed wire accident beat, but my left thigh has a pretty nice little line of train tracks. Wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d managed to free the calf that had wandered into it, but the little guy had lost too much blood.”
“That’s a shame.” A crackling noise from within some thorny shrubs caused Red to skip ahead a few steps, and I slipped sideways. I pushed my foot against the stirrup and straightened. “I suppose this giant coat would break my fall if I were to slide off the saddle.”
“You might be right. Knowing Libby, that was already part of her plan.”
“I haven’t seen many wolves.” I wondered if I was foolish to bring it up, and yet, I hoped I could allay any fears I had about it. “At least not face to face. Are the blue eyes really that unusual?”
“I’ve never seen one before, but I’m sure it happens. You don’t need to worry about the wolf, Poppy. They don’t come out in the day, and they rarely come in close to the farmsteads. I think one wild animal attack will be enough for your visit here in Montana.”
Naturally, he thought I was worried about being attacked by a wolf. The real reasoning behind my question would have been too outlandish to explain. It was even far out of my realm of thinking. I’d obviously fallen prey to my own imagination and fears. “I definitely don’t need any more animals to take a swat at me.” I pressed my arm against my side. “It’s all healed up, but sometimes, when I’m cold like now, I can still feel the wound in my flesh.”
“That’s normal. I have a bullet hole in my shoulder that, when the winter snow comes in, feels as fresh as the day I got shot.”
“Your thigh? Your shoulder? Is there any part of you that hasn’t been hurt yet?”
He seemed to be contemplating my question for a moment and then he nodded. He tapped his chest. “Yeah, my heart.” He looked over at me. “But it’s feeling mighty vulnerable these days, so who knows.”
I didn’t respond. It was hard to know when he was serious or just being flirtatious— something he was apparently quite practiced at.
An hour into the ride, the perimeter of the ranch seemed never ending. Dark splotches of cattle stood as still as statues on the muted green hillsides, an intermittent flip of a tail the only true sign that I was not just staring at a painting.
“Whoa,” Cade said as he pulled the horses to a stop. He hopped off and dropped his reins to the ground. “The horses will stand on their own. I just need to check out this section of fence a little closer.”
“All right.” I took the opportunity to remove my feet from the stirrup and stretch my legs out. My muscles were starting to cramp painfully. I surveyed the area. Behind me several small birds with gray wings and bright yellow bellies played in the branch of a tree. They weren’t like any bird I’d seen in Salem. At home, in my small village, I’d never really given thought to the existence of anything past our quaint town and home. And yet, it seemed the new world stretched on forever with vastly different trees and vastly different creatures spread throughout.
I’d been so occupied with watching the birds, I hadn’t noticed that Cade had finished his fence inspection. My feet were still out of the stirrups.
“I’m an idiot.” He looked at my outstretched leg. “You’re tired. Let’s stop for lunch.”
“My legs just needed a little unfolding. I’m fine. Unless, of course, you’re ready to stop.” My feet searched for the stirrups, but they seemed to be purposely avoiding the toes of my boots.
Cade walked over and took hold of my ankle and stuck my foot into the stirrup. Then he walked around to the other side and did the same. “That sunny hillside across the way is perfect for a lunch stop.”
“That would be nice.” I had to tamp down the elation I felt about getting out of the saddle. My only worry was climbing back on after lunch. We seemed to be halfway around the ranch, which meant we had a long path back home in either direction.
We walked the horses to the hillside. In my quest to take in the scenery, I hadn’t realized that, as Cade had predicted, most of the clouds had vanished. Rich, warm rays of sunlight bathed the gentle slope.
Cade climbed off River and then stopped next to Red. He looked up at me expectantly.
“I’m sure I can manage to climb down alone.” I pulled the foot opposite of where he stood out of the stirrup. “I’m getting used to this cumbersome coat.”
“I know you can climb down on your own—” he said, still standing next to my horse.
I threw my free leg over and searched blindly for solid ground. Once I found it, I pulled the other foot from the stirrup and my legs collapsed beneath me like pudding.
Cade grabbed me and kept me from plunging to my knees. His hands squeezed around the excess fabric of the coat as he held my arms and dipped his face closer to mine. “—I figured it was standing once you got down that you’d have problems with.”
I looked down at my legs and stomped my feet to get some feeling back into them. “I think they’re coming back. I feel a tingling sensation.” I lifted my face and smiled. “I think I can stand on my own now.”
“Shame.” It took him longer than necessary to let his hands drop. He meandered over to the leather satchel hanging on his saddle and pulled out the sandwiches.
The horses were happy to stand on the grassy knoll and graze while we wandered up a bit higher. The grass looked dry, brittle, and less than inviting.
I looked down at the coat. “Do you think Libby would mind if we used this to sit on? It’s big enough, and the sun has warmed the air nicely.”
“I think it’s big enough for us and the horses too. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Before I could figure exactly how to pry myself from the cavernous depths of the coat, Cade had moved behind me. His hands reached up, and he slid the coat from my shoulders. His fingertips stroked my arms as he lowered the coat and then before I realized what was happening, he pressed his mouth against the side of my neck and kissed me. The heat of it swirled through me as his mouth lingered on my skin for several tantalizing moments. I should have been angered, or at the very least flustered by his brazen confidence, but I was neither.
“Shall we eat?” I asked unable to hide the tremble in voice. My unsteady tone was not from nerves but from the realization that I wanted more. And at the same time, I knew I was not emotionally or physically prepared for Cade Tanner. I would be leaving Montana soon enough, one way or another, and I knew that I was already in complete and utter danger of leaving with a broken heart.
Ignoring the intimate kiss for the time being, we sat shoulder to shoulder on the crisp coat and stared out at a field of cows while we ate our lunch. The purple silhouettes of a long, low mountain range provided a rough border between grass and sky. Cade finished his sandwich in several bites, and I offered him the other half of mine.
I pulled off the crust and tossed it into the grass hoping to attract some of the yellow-bellied birds I’d seen earlier. “Is Jackson out here somewhere looking after your herd?” I started a conversation to keep my mind off the reality that we were alone. There was a raw urgency surrounding Cade, which was both compelling and at the same time terrifying, but not in the sense that he frightened me. Indeed, it was my own yielding, passionate reactions to his touch that scared me witless.
“Somewhere. He’s probably on the
east side of the ranch by now.”
“It’s so vast, I don’t know how you keep from getting lost.”
“I grew up on this ranch. I could find my way around it blindfolded.”
My bird lure had worked. Several of the feathered critters were brave enough to venture toward the crusts. I pushed to my feet and walked closer. They hopped away but then seemed to notice the piece of bread in my hands and waited patiently for me to toss it to them.
“Do you have meadowlarks in Salem?” Cade pulled his hat from his head. It was rare for him to be without it, and while the symmetrical, chiseled planes of his face were always shaded by his hat brim, it was still easy to see that he was startlingly handsome. Now, with full light and no hat, he was nothing short of breathtaking. With his usual relaxed confidence, he leaned back on his elbows and watched me.
“If we do, I’ve never seen them. They are so beautiful.”
“Very beautiful,” he said quietly.
I pretended not to notice the way his hungry gaze nearly stroked me as I stood in front of him. I focused on my new little friends. I had not heard him move, but seconds later, Cade stood directly behind me.
I continued to toss bread crumbs, exceptionally aware of his nearness and unsure of how to react to it. Then my heart took control of my thoughts and I faced him. He looked down at me with enough heat to scorch the ground we stood on. But I’d started this, knowing full well that I would be just inches from him and that unavoidable draw of his.
“Remember when I told you I’d never danced with a boy before and then you danced with me?” My voice seemed to get lost in the vastness surrounding us.
“How could I forget it?” His feet moved closer, and while cool air swirled around us, the space between us heated up like a blazing hearth.
“Well, I’ve never kissed a—”
Time and space blurred, and before I could finish my words or realize what was happening, his hands grabbed my arms and his mouth came down hungrily over mine. Slowly, he released his rather rough hold on my arms and his hands drifted over my back. His mouth still covered mine as he pulled me against his chest. I found my lips instinctively parting as his kiss deepened. There was no way to measure the passage of time as we kissed, but with each stroke of his tongue, my body melted against him and I felt as vulnerable as a rag doll in his arms.