Grant Me The Moon

by Caroline Clemmons

  Grant Me The Moon

  By Caroline Clemmons

  Contemporary Western Romance

  Copyright © 2016 by Caroline Clemmons

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Front Cover art by Skye Moncrief

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Monday afternoon in May near Post, Texas

  Tory Fraser straightened her navy skirt and took a deep breath. She was surprised at the size of Grayson Ranch’s rambling homestead. From the rockers on the broad front porch and the old quilt on the porch swing, she imagined the owners were elderly. Bracing herself, she reached for the bell only to notice an index card taped beneath.

  Bell broken. Knock hard or holler loud.

  With a mental eye roll, she opened the screen door, banged on the wood, and yelled, “Hello. Is anyone home?” The windows were open and she heard movement from within.

  A honeyed baritone mumbled, “I’ll swear, Elvis, you’re gonna trip me yet.”

  Not elderly then.

  The door opened and the equivalent of GQ-goes-western greeted her. Her breath caught in her throat. He wore no shirt and dark chest hair made a vee into jeans that rode low on his hips. His biceps and washboard left no doubt he was in prime shape.

  Sky-blue eyes surveyed her from top to bottom and back up again. In spite of the tailored business suit she wore, she felt undressed.

  “Ma’am, something I can do for you?” His hand stroked the head of a border collie she supposed to be named Elvis.

  She coughed lightly to regain her voice. “I’m looking for Grant Grayson. Is he here?”

  “Reckon so. I’m Grant. Would you like to come in?” He stood back so she could enter.

  She almost said never mind, but she’d come here for a purpose and wasn’t going to back down because a half-dressed cowboy greeted her.

  As she entered, she said, “I won’t take much of your time but I’d appreciate you sparing me a few moments.”

  His eyes held a hint of amusement. “For you, I could spare a lot of ‘em.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I was up all night with a sick cow. Have a seat and I’ll get my shirt.”

  She exhaled. At least she wouldn’t have to fight staring at that broad, bare chest while she spoke. There would still a lot of man to see. He must be close to six feet four with tousled dark hair.

  Tory chose a leather armchair. The dog laid his head on her knee, spreading fur on her navy skirt. Oh well, a few dog hairs wouldn’t kill her, especially if she accomplished her mission. She scratched between the dog’s ears as she scanned the room.

  What appeared to be rodeo trophies sat on one shelf of a wide bookcase. Sports trophies lined another. The room was homey and comfortable, but hadn’t been updated in a generation or two.

  Grant entered the room tucking in a blue plaid shirt that emphasized the blue in his eyes. His hair was slicked down, a shame really, but he still had dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. “Elvis appears to have made your acquaintance.”

  “I believe I’ve made a friend.” She rubbed the dog’s head with both hands and was rewarded by wet dog kisses. Laughing, she leaned back to avoid more but continued petting the friendly dog.

  Grant dropped onto the sofa and spread his arms across the back. “What brings you to Grayson Ranch, Miss…?”

  “Dr. Victoria Fraser, but I go by Tory. I teach high school and sponsor the History Explorers’ Club. When I read about the archaeological dig on your ranch, I thought it would make a perfect trip for the students. Seeing ancient history unfold right in our county would be memorable.”

  “Tory, I’m afraid that’s out of my control. Once I let the university set up, I pretty much lost all say so.”

  “I checked with the professor in charge. He indicated that if we were well supervised and had your permission, we were welcome.”

  Grant scratched the stubble on his attractive jaw. “When would this visit take place?”

  “We meet after school on Wednesdays, so we’d come as soon as school ended. We could be at your place by four.”

  He frowned. “Wednesday? Saturday would be better for me.”

  She leaned forward to explain, “Most of the students work on weekends or are in the band or sports. Since Wednesday is traditionally a church night, there are no evening activities that day. Wednesday is one of their only free evenings, which is why we meet then and our meetings are ended in time for the kids to attend church if they wish.” My stars, she was babbling as if she’d never before talked to a handsome man.

  He appeared to think over the matter then sat up straight. “All right, Wednesday it is. Would you like a trip out there to see the place so you can find it?”

  His offer surprised her but she wouldn’t turn him down. “I’d love one.” She rose, wishing she’d worn slacks and walking shoes.

  After reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys. “Let’s go in my truck.” They walked out of the house and he closed the door behind them.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t you lower the windows and lock the door when you leave?”

  “You must be from the city. Since our house is a half mile back from the road, we don’t get many strangers wandering in here.”

  “Only takes one if he has trouble on his mind.” She shot him a pointed look as they walked to a gray four-door Dodge truck. The muddy vehicle had an assortment of tools and a square bale of hay in back. A rifle or shotgun—she didn’t know which—was anchored on the gun rack. This was a serious cowboy pickup.

  He chuckled as he opened the front passenger-side door. “If it makes you feel better, my brother is due home any time now.”

  She stood staring up into the cab. How the devil could she climb into that truck without flashing him? “You ranch together?”

  “That we do.” He smiled, apparently at her discomfort. “I can lift you or you can put your left foot on the lip of the door. Reach inside and there’s a handle. Pull up, sit, and swivel.”

  She followed his instructions but her hem still slid upward only inches below the top of her thighs. Good thing she hadn’t worn one of her shorter skirts. While she fastened her seat belt, he opened the back door and Elvis hopped in.

  Grant climbed behind the wheel and started the truck. As they drove around the house and down a dirt road, she heard a horn honk. Grant honked back. “My brother Brad. You can relax, the house is safe now.”

  She held on as he sped down the dusty road as if it were an interstate. “Be as sarcastic as you want, rural areas also have crime.”

  He glanced her way. “You’re right, but out here it’s more likely to be cattle rustlers. We’re taking a short cut, but I’ll come back the way you need to travel on Wednesday.”

  “I appreciate you taking this time, especially since you said you were up all night. I hope the cow is all right now.”

  As if he hadn’t heard her, he lifted one finger from the steering wheel to point ahead. “You see that low mesa? That’s the beginning of the portion of Caprock that’s on my land and where we’re headed.”

  “Are the archaeologists working today?”

  “No idea. We’ll soon find out.” He slowed and turned onto a smaller track. “Those shoes aren’t what you need out here. You’ll have to be especially careful or you’ll take a tumble.”

  She looked at her
best skirt, now covered in dog hair and at her coordinating new four-inch heels that matched her designer purse. “Frankly, I dressed to impress you rather than for practicality. I see I should have worn jeans and walking shoes.”

  He sent her a heated appraisal as they drove down into a sandy ravine. “Yep, but we won’t be there long. Just use caution.”

  She wondered if the truck would get stuck in the sand, but he didn’t appear worried. After the length of a couple of football fields, he stopped. Ahead she saw a roped off area above what appeared to have been a talus slope. Several vehicles were parked in the ravine.

  Her heart rate increased with anticipation. She’d visited ruins all over the Southwest and mounds in Arkansas and East Texas. This was the first time she’d see a recent discovery still in the process of excavation.

  Grant opened the door for her and she slid out only slightly more gracefully than she’d climbed in. He left her standing while he let Elvis out. The dog took off to sniff at the bushes dotting the ravine’s sides.

  Her heels immediately sank into the sand. Great. With a sigh, she held the truck’s door handle with one hand while she removed her shoes. The sand was hot, but appeared soft and without hazards. Doubtless her new pair of Spanx would be toast with a dozen runners laddering up the sides.

  Grant offered her his left arm. “Grab my arm to steady yourself.”

  She hooked the shoes with one hand and held on to his arm with the other. Tingles shot through her and she scolded herself. She wasn’t a schoolgirl to swoon at the touch of a handsome man. “I’ll carry these until we get on solid ground. Will we? If not, I might as well leave them in the truck.”

  He nodded toward a cave opening about thirty feet above them. “You’ll need them unless you’re used to going barefoot outdoors.”

  She smiled at him in spite of his cocky grin. “Not since I was twelve. My grandmother has fixed ideas about what young ladies do and do not do.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, my granddad had pretty well-defined ideas of how young boys should act. Brad and I are terrible disappointments to him.”

  “I seriously doubt that. Is he still living?”

  “Yep, he’s in town for bingo today.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I think he has a lady friend or friends because he spiffs up for game days.”

  “Aww, that’s nice. I wonder if my grandmother would enjoy bingo.” She would have asked him more but they’d reached what appeared to be crudely constructed steps to the cave opening with only a rope for a hand rail.

  He stopped and turned toward her. “You sure you want to go further? When you bring your students you’ll probably be wearing more practical shoes?”

  She put on each of her shoes. “Yes, I guarantee you I will be. But, I wouldn’t pass up this chance because of inappropriate footwear.” All the same, she sensed he thought she was being foolish.

  He shrugged and indicated she should precede him up the steps. “Okay, but please be careful. I don’t want to have to call Care-Flight to get you out of here.”

  She didn’t fancy having him stare at her behind up those steep steps. “You go first.”

  He formally bowed but his tone was sarcastic. “My grandfather said a man always lets a lady go first up the stairs and he goes first down the stairs. That’s so he can cushion her should she fall.”

  She grimaced. “That’s what my grandmother says.”

  Reconciled to the inevitable, she stepped onto the first tread. Thank goodness it was sturdier than it appeared. By the time she reached the cave, she was afraid to look back the way they’d come. She dreaded going down that ladder-like stairway with only that loose rope to steady her.

  Barely inside the cave, five grad students knelt or sat on the hard packed ground. Small stakes and string separated most of the floor into a grid. The interior was maybe fifteen feet wide and no more than twenty feet deep.

  A small pool was at the back left. The walls were the chalky rock of the area layered with red sandstone. The ceiling was not high, maybe only seven feet at the opening tapering to ten or twelve feet at the back.

  Once they were inside the cave, Grant removed his Stetson.

  An older man dressed in khaki looked up from a table and came toward them. He was of medium height and had gray hair. “Ah, Mr. Grayson. How nice to see you.” In spite of his smile, his voice contradicted his speech.

  A man of about thirty who’d also been standing at the table strolled to greet them.

  Grant asked, “Dr. Lawson, how are things going?”

  The older man gestured to the students. “Excellent, excellent.”

  Grant placed his hand at her waist. “Dr. Fraser, this is Dr. Fred Lawson from the university. He’s in charge of the dig.” He indicated the second person. “And this is Dr. Carl Bedford, assistant professor.”

  Bedford smiled and said, “Please call me Carl.”

  Lawson frowned. “Dr. Fraser? Are you an archaeologist?”

  “Only in my dreams. I teach history at the local high school. When I learned there was a site so close, I was compelled to visit.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “Ah, I believe you contacted my office at the university. Something about students, wasn’t it?” He made clear he found her far less than his equal.

  In spite of his rude attitude, she kept her tone businesslike. “Yes, a group of interested teens from the high school History Explorers Club. Mr. Grayson has given permission for them to visit on Wednesday.”

  Tory noticed grad students pretended they couldn’t hear the discussion even though the area was too small for them to do otherwise. No doubt Dr. Lawson was a strict taskmaster. Dr. Bedford hung back as if he dared not speak unless Dr. Lawson gave him permission.

  Grad students wore shorts and tank tops or large tee-shirts. Tory felt terribly overdressed. Although the cave interior was shaded, the early May air was quite warm.

  Lawson gestured to the table at one side. “You see today’s finds are mostly flakes which will be taken to the university when I leave today. In our dig here we’ve unearthed scrapers, hammer stones, bone tools, bi-facially trimmed spears, basket fragments, and two perfect Clovis points.”

  “Oh, so this is a Clovis site?” she asked.

  He peered at her as if she were a bug under a microscope. “Yes, although I hope to find an earlier site beneath this.”

  She studied the table’s contents. “Such as Dr. Waters found in Salado?”

  His bushy gray eyebrows shot up. “Ah, you know about that, eh? Yes, like the Buttermilk Creek Complex. Well, you’ll excuse me, but we’ve a great deal of work to accomplish.” He turned and walked to the other side of the small cave.

  Much more tactfully, Carl said, “Nice to have met you, Dr. Fraser, and nice to see you again, Grant. Let me introduce you to the grad students who are working on this dig.”

  He indicated a cute woman with brown hair. “This is Heidi Jensen. Next to her in the blue shirt is Darrell Wilson. The guy in the baseball cap is Hunter Kellog. Nearby is Abby Oswald. In back is Jeff Anson.”

  The students glanced up as their name was called but continued working.

  Grant said, “Nice to meet each of you.”

  Carl nodded. “I guess we’ll see you both soon.” He turned and walked to where Dr. Lawson stood.

  Tory faced Grant. “I believe we’ve been dismissed. As much as I dread the experience, I might as well try going down those steps.”

  The nearest young woman, Heidi, looked up with a smile but quickly returned to brushing at her spot.

  When Tory looked down at the steps her acrophobia kicked in big time. Dizziness attacked her and she feared falling. “I should have listened to you and stayed in the truck.”

  Grant gestured to her feet. “I suggest you take off your shoes again. You can hold my hand on the stairs. I’ll go in front and guide you.”

  She took off her shoes and tossed them to the sand below. “I forgot to tell you I’m afraid of heights. I get dizzy and try to fall for
ward.”

  He offered his hand. “Aw, this isn’t high. Take your time and look at me or your feet, not at the ravine.”

  She tried not to look at the sand below. If she fell, would the sand cushion her enough that she lived? She pictured her broken body lying in the sand, skirt around her hips.

  Stop it, Tory. You’re a modern woman and not afraid of a few stupid steps.

  But, she was. She held on to Grant’s hand with a death grip and with the other grasped the sagging rope intended as a guide. He walked sideways to help her with each step. Her hosiery-covered feet slid on the wood.

  When at last they reached the ravine’s warm sand, she exhaled in relief. She didn’t even blink when a lizard ran over her foot. Grant retrieved her shoes and handed them to her.

  She accepted the spiked heels. “Thank you for your help. I’d have broken my neck without your guidance.”

  “You still plan to bring a group of students here?”

  She nodded, wondering how to insure the kids didn’t get hurt. “The club members are more or less the crème de la crème of my students. I’ll give them a no-horseplay-or-you’re-suspended talk, hoping I can prevent injuries.”

  His expression was solemn as he opened the truck door for her. “I’ll insist the school take responsibility for any injuries so my insurance won’t be facing claims.”

  She repeated the instructions he’d given her to climb onto the seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a permission slip from each student’s parents accepting responsibility for their child’s actions. Technically, the school is responsible, but we want the kids to behave.”

  “Sounds okay. No matter how well-behaved these kids are, they’re still teens.” His grin was boyish under sparkling deep blue eyes. “I remember what that’s like.” He put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle.

  “Oh, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Were you a troublemaker?”

  He opened the door for Elvis, who was running towards them. “Not intentionally, but that’s my point. Things happen when you’re that age. Your judgment is not completely developed. What may seem like a great idea can result in disaster.” When he’d secured his dog, he walked around and climbed behind the wheel.