The Cowboy’s Mixed-Up Matchmaker
Page 8
James stood in the archway to the dinette, blocking the view of the stables across the driveway behind him. She’d rather look at James, anyway, but not when he was focused on Denae.
“May I peek?” Denae pointed upward with a grin of glee right up there with a kid adopting a new puppy.
“Sure. Nothing much up there, mind you.” James shrugged.
Denae didn’t seem to care. She scurried up the ladder and out of sight. “Oh, great space, James! Such an amazing view. Imagine lying in bed and gazing out at the mountains like this.” Her shoes clipped the wooden floor overhead.
Who said things like that about a single guy’s bedroom? Who even invited themselves into it? Lauren had helped clean the guest cabins a time or two in years gone by, so she had a fair idea of the layout of the loft in this one, but she’d never be this forward.
“Yeah, I like it.” James didn’t move.
Tori edged past him with a tray of drinks. “I’m after Mom and Dad to let me move in here when Jamie moves into his own house.”
Garret looked up from poking at his phone where he sprawled in the one easy chair. “Is that a done deal then? What’s the timeline?”
Was it Lauren’s imagination, or did James’s gaze skitter over hers?
“Looks like it. Dad signed a contract with Brent from Timber Framing Plus. They’ll get started over the summer and fall when they’re waiting on things at Kade and Cheri’s. Hopefully they can get to lockup before snow flies and do the finishing work over the winter.”
Denae scrambled down the ladder. “Their place will be amazing. Cheri showed me some of their choices. She has such an artistic eye, that girl.”
Of course, Denae had her fingers in everyone’s pies. Why was Lauren irritated at the thought? She was the one who’d kept in touch with Denae, the one who’d invited her to move back to Saddle Springs. Tried to turn James’s attention to her.
“Did you see the mural Cheri painted this winter at the public library?” James asked Denae. “She’s all self-taught, too.”
Well, Lauren had succeeded, it looked like. Wasn’t this what she wanted? To find someone for James? Denae might be annoyingly bubbly, but that might be a little jealousy poking through. She wasn’t air-headed. She had a strong work ethic and had built up a solid editing business so that both traditional and independent publishers sought her out, willing to pay her fees.
Tori set out bowls of popcorn and passed out glasses of iced tea. “Dad also contracted Timber Framing Plus to build four more guest cabins. Those won’t be ready until next season yet, though.”
“I told him the guest cabins should come first, but he insisted.” James lowered himself to the floor by the glass doors and snagged a popcorn bowl.
“He probably thinks there isn’t a woman alive who’d want to live in a tourist cabin this size.” Tori giggled. “He just wants to marry you off.”
Denae sat cross-legged beside James and shook her head as he proffered his popcorn. How could anyone look that good in leggings and a tunic? Lauren tugged self-consciously at her sweatshirt. Maybe putting in more of an effort wouldn’t be a bad idea, but she sure didn’t have a pencil-thin supermodel body like Denae. That girl could wear anything and look like a million bucks.
Tori settled in beside Lauren, pen and notebook in hand. “Okay, so we’ve got about seven hours on the trail Friday. I hope everyone has been riding enough to be in shape for that.”
Uh. About that. Lauren really did need to buy her own horse and get out more. She was going to be saddle sore even after her bravado.
“Garret, are you trailering Trudy over that morning or the night before? I think the rest of us are riding Flying Horseshoe mounts.”
“The night before, if you’ve got a vacant stall for her.”
“Trudy?” Denae giggled.
Garret grinned at her. “Yep, Trudy. That’s the name she came with.”
“There’s an empty box beside Luna’s. That way she’ll be fresh and ready in the morning.”
“Sounds good.” Garret nodded.
Tori consulted her notes. “We’re taking two packhorses for all the gear. I have a tent big enough for us three girls, but you’ll each need a sleeping pad and bag.”
“Taking a tent, Carmichael?” Garret looked at James.
“Nah. There are lots of trees up there. I figured on hanging my hammock and sleeping under the stars. It’s too early for mosquitoes.”
“Not sure I’m up for that.”
“So, bring a tent.” James shrugged.
Guys. Seriously.
“I was thinking we’d try to get away around eight, so we have time for a couple of breaks,” Tori went on. “And we’d be to the hot springs with enough time to set up camp before dark, cook and clean up supper, plus have a soak before bed.”
“I’m going to need that soak.” Lauren could already feel her aching muscles.
“Me, too.” Denae sighed dramatically. “You said I could ride Pippi, right?”
Tori nodded. “We have the camp kitchen, but you all have been assigned your two meals to prep for.” She pointed her pen at Garret. “That includes you.”
He groaned. “I’m a terrible cook.”
“There’s no time like the present to learn.”
“You’ll all die.”
Denae snickered. “What meals do you have? You can have my first lunch on our ride up the mountain. Bring something portable.”
His face brightened. “Really? Thank you. You can have my Saturday breakfast instead. I burn fried eggs every single time, and that’s on an electric stove, not over a campfire.”
“Wait. We’re cooking over a fire?” Denae’s wide eyes scanned everyone in the room.
“Sure are. I know I told you that.”
“I take back my offer. I’ll do lunch.”
“Too late.” Garret drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm, grinning smugly.
“Okay, Garret is supplying Friday lunch. I’m on Friday supper.” Tori scribbled in her notebook. “Denae has Saturday breakfast. Lauren’s got lunch, and James has supper.” She rattled off the remaining two days. “We’ll have a grill for over the fire, frying pans, and a cast iron Dutch oven. Plus, a kettle for heating water and a campfire percolator, since none of us can survive without our morning coffee. The camp kitchen includes plates, bowls, utensils, all that sort of thing. Bring your own thermal mug and water bottle. Any questions?”
“I’m on Sunday lunch,” Garret said. “How long will ice packs last to keep stuff cold?”
“Double zip lock anything that needs to keep chilled. We’ll hang a mesh bag in the creek.”
“But it’s a hot spring.”
“Only the one. The others are glacier-fed.”
Lauren couldn’t help watching James as the conversation danced around them. He leaned back, braced on both arms, with his jeans-clad legs crossed at the ankles in front of him. If he were aware of Denae’s knee brushing his thigh, he showed no sign of it.
Denae said something — Lauren missed the question — and James turned toward her to reply.
Jealousy stabbed Lauren like a maddened criminal making sure his victim was truly dead. She hadn’t thought it would hurt this much, getting James interested in someone. How was she going to manage four days watching them? By the end of it, they’d be holding hands and kissing in the bushes. She knew it.
* * *
James shifted on the floor, just enough to allow airflow between his leg and Denae’s. If she was coming on to him, it was subtle. Maybe this was just her way, being loud and excitable and not paying attention to personal space. Her voice seemed rather high-pitched, and she giggled far too much. There was no way on earth he could envision a life with her by his side.
Finally, Lauren turned toward Tori in conversation, and he could watch her without feeling weird. Something about oats for the horses in case there wasn’t enough grazing near the hot springs. His sister could handle it. He didn’t have to pay attention.
&nb
sp; He envisioned Lauren in the dress she’d worn as Cheri’s bridesmaid two months back. Did she know how stunning she looked in it? He longed to tell her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her short springy curls and gorgeous smile. He longed to tell her he loved her and let the chips fall where they may. If he could gather her in his arms and kiss her the way he dreamed of, she’d believe him. Would she push him away? Laugh in his face?
At some point, he needed to take that risk. Maybe sometime on the camping trip, even though it was still two months until their birthday. He probably didn’t need to wait, right? What was the worst that could happen? Doc Torrington would take over as the Flying Horseshoe’s veterinarian. Lauren had already stopped singing on their worship team, so nothing would change there.
What he’d lose was hope. He’d lose his fantasies of Lauren looking at him — really looking, for once in her life — with love shining from her eyes. He’d lose all his dreams. Men had survived that before, hadn’t they? Somehow managed to put one boot in front of the other and carry on as though their hearts weren’t smashed into powder. Maybe someday when he was forty or fifty he’d meet someone else and discover a shadow of the love he harbored for Lauren.
“Right, Jamie?”
He blinked at his sister. “Pardon me?”
Tori rolled her eyes. “You fixed the straps on the pack saddle last fall, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, I did.”
“If you could focus for just half an hour, we’d be done here, and we could play a round or two of cards.”
“No, I’ve got a super early morning tomorrow.” Lauren covered her mouth in a yawn.
Was it fake? Was she trying to get away?
“Me, too,” put in Denae. “A rush job just came in this morning, so I need to finish it plus the novel I’m already half done before Friday.”
“A rush job?” Garret laughed. “What’s so urgent about editing?”
“Goes to show what you know.” Denae grinned at him. “For the authors, it’s life or death. Seriously, the drama. I’ve got my regular clients organized enough to book me ahead and get their manuscripts in on time, but this newbie is willing to pay extra for a quick turnaround on a novella, and her sample is well-written and intriguing. I couldn’t turn her down.”
“Who knew?” Garret shook his head.
“Do you read?”
“I read music,” he deadpanned.
That annoying giggle again. “That’s not quite the same thing. What kinds of stories do you like? Westerns? Thrillers? Fantasy? Action adventure? I can make some recommendations.”
“Who’s got time for that?”
James stuck his hand in the air and laughed when Lauren, Tori, and Denae did the same.
Garret scowled as he looked at James. “Always thought reading was a girl thing.”
“Nope. A bit of escape is fun from time to time.”
“Huh. You edit all those kinds of books?”
Denae shook her head. “No. I edit romance and some of its sub-genres, but I read other genres for fun.”
“Romance?” Garret’s eyebrows hiked up. “Like, smut?”
“Um, no. Like feelings. Emotions. The books I edit are from a Christian worldview so, while the couple is definitely physically attracted to each other, they’re generally saving sex for marriage.” Denae’s finger made a circle around the room. “Like probably all of us are.”
James swallowed a laugh at the red creeping up Garret’s face. Poor guy didn’t know where to look.
Tori cleared her throat. “Okay then. On that cheery note, shall we get back to business?”
“Please,” mumbled Garret.
Across the small room, Lauren stared down at her fingers fidgeting in her lap.
James reached into his popcorn bowl, only then realizing it was empty. He definitely didn’t need to be thinking about sex, whether it was fictional or real. Not when he was already struggling with how to treat Lauren and when and how to reveal his love for her.
What was the scripture about taking every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ? He needed to look that up and meditate on it. Maybe it was one of those ‘God’s will’ verses he could add to the ever-lengthening list in the church’s Facebook group. Had anyone made note of Philippians 4:8? He hadn’t checked for a few days. That one definitely qualified. Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.
Dad’s reminder to pray about the situation filtered into James’s subconscious. To really ask for God’s will and His direction rather than begging like a kid at the candy counter.
Every thought captive. Please, Lord.
Chapter Eleven
Lauren had never been so glad to see a waterfall in her life. It wasn’t only because it was stunningly beautiful, though it was, but because her butt and thigh muscles screamed with mind-numbing pain after three hours in the saddle. It wasn’t Luna’s fault. The mare had picked her way up the trail, surefooted and steady.
It was Lauren’s fault. She’d like to blame James for the fact that he stood as a barrier between her and riding, but that was stupid. She could ride at Canyon Crossing Stables. Or she could saddle up at the Flying Horseshoe and simply ignore James.
Ignoring James was difficult, though. He led the group, so she’d stared at his back all morning. She’d memorized the tilt of his black hat, the collar of his denim shirt above the maroon University of Montana sweatshirt, the jeans stretching down to the worn heels of his brown cowboy boots. He sat the saddle easily, like he’d been born to it, like he’d ridden every day of his life, which was probably true.
He slid off Jigsaw, the pinto’s dark tail swishing against her splotchy flanks as her ears twitched toward the sound of running water. Beside Lauren, Tori dismounted from Coaldust, looking as fresh as she had hours ago. Obviously, Garret rode often as well. He gathered Coaldust’s reins along with Trudy’s and led them toward water. Denae groaned dramatically as she dismounted Pippi.
Lauren had yet to swing her leg over. She wasn’t sure she could move those muscles, but she also couldn’t stay on Luna through their break — to say nothing of another three or four hours. She edged Luna around so the horse’s bulk shielded her from everyone’s view, braced herself in the left stirrup, and tried to lift her right leg.
Oh, man. How had Denae managed? A glance showed Denae bent over with Tori patting her back. But James’s eyes were on Lauren as he looped Jigsaw’s reins over a bush. He took a step toward her.
No. She needed to get this done by herself. Lauren closed her eyes, braced herself, and forced her body to flex in all the required joints. She stumbled against Luna’s side when she hit the ground, but strong hands caught her. “You okay?”
James. Of course, James. He let her go immediately, and she missed the fleeting warmth and strength. “Haven’t ridden much over the winter.”
“This is a brutal way to get back in the saddle.”
She could hear the grin in his voice. “I’m holding on for the hot springs. Gonna need that tonight.” And a few painkillers.
“Yeah, me, too. Let me take Luna for a drink, and you find a place to sit down for a few minutes. Or walk and stretch.”
“Okay.”
He took the reins, and she forced herself to turn to the other girls rather than watch him walk away. “Gonna live, Denae?”
“It’s debatable.” Her friend looked back down into the valley with longing in her eyes. “Seriously thinking of making a run for it, but even that doesn’t sound possible.”
Tori giggled. “You’ll be fine. We’re over halfway, and there are hot pools at the other end. Think of immersing in soothing hot water up to your chin. You’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”
“On the hard ground.”
“You have a sleeping pad to cushion you. Don’t tell me you’ve never camped before.”
“Dad and Michelle have a for
ty-foot RV.”
“That’s not camping.”
“I never said it was. I might have slept in a tent a couple of times when I was a kid, in the vague and distant past.”
Lauren turned as Garret came up beside them and tethered the two horses. “Anyone hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat a horse.” Tori groaned then patted Coaldust. “No offense.”
Garret chuckled and dug into the packhorse’s saddlebag. “Sub sandwiches all around. Picked them up just before The Munching Moose closed yesterday.”
Lauren shook her head. “Cheater.”
“What?” He gave her a wide-eyed look. “No one will get poisoned this way. I put an ice pack in there.” He handed a plastic-wrapped bun to Denae. “Hope everyone likes ham and cheese.”
Denae held the package in front of her like it was a bomb with a ticking timer. “I don’t really eat white bread.”
“Uh... didn’t I say sandwiches at our meeting last week?” He tipped his eyebrows up.
“Don’t worry. The calories won’t stick to your hips.” Tori unwrapped her sandwich as James returned with the other horses. “You’ve burned off more than this already today.”
Lauren peeled the plastic off her sub. No wonder Denae looked like a stick with a few minor bumps along it. Bread was a totally valid food group, right? Didn’t matter what color. The bun had gotten a bit squished, but it still tasted like heaven.
Garret pulled a warehouse-sized bag of potato chips out of his backpack, tore open the top, and held it out to Denae. She blinked.
Tori’s hands clamped on her hips. “Garret. Have you ever heard of nutrition?”
“Uh...” He looked at her, down at the bag, then up. “Yeah?”
“This isn’t it.”
James reached past his sister and came back with a handful of chips. “Turn a bachelor loose with the instructions bring lunch and this is what you get.”
Denae opened her sandwich and picked out a bit of meat.
Oh, good grief. Lauren inhaled the last of her sub, wishing Garret would offer another... or that Denae would share hers if she wasn’t going to eat the thing properly. She snagged a handful of chips. “I don’t remember anyone assigning a specific menu.”