Whitewater Wooing (River's End Ranch Book 4)

by Caroline Lee

Oh boy, she was starting to cry again, but when she saw his expression, she smiled through her tears and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. We’re both very happy. And I know you’ll be the best uncle ever, Uncle Willy.”

  He didn’t even mind the stupid name. “Just like I’m the best big brother?”

  “The best.” She leaned into a hug, and he tried to be gentle. “Now, sit yourself down and let’s finish this haircut.”

  He reluctantly let himself be pushed back into the chair. “Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t be standing—”

  “I’m pregnant, not an invalid! I plan on working in the café for the next eight months, so why shouldn’t I cut your hair?”

  “Well,” Will grinned. “Eventually you won’t be able to reach me over your belly.”

  She swatted his head again. “Tell me about your next date.”

  “What?” The change in subject caught him by surprise.

  “You said you’re getting spiffed up for your next date. What is it? Are you taking Ellie to Post Falls to a fancy restaurant?”

  “I thought I’d take her canoeing.”

  “Well, that’s certainly romantic.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, but he chuckled anyhow. “The way I’ve got it planned, it is.” He was going to show her the Lake at sunset, if everything went perfectly. She’d already agreed to it. “We’re going on Wednesday, after the last rafting run of the day.”

  “Good. That’ll give you a good week and a half to talk her into staying in Idaho.”

  Talk her into staying in Idaho? It sounded so simple when Kelsi said it, but it would mean a commitment. A marriage. And not just him being able to commit, either. It would mean her being interested enough to marry him. And after her reaction to that kiss, he just wasn’t sure. Heck, he was going to have to kiss her quite a few more times before he could be sure. Before he was sure she was sure. And how could he be sure if she was sure if he wasn’t even sure that he liked her enough to call this “love”?

  Will groaned. He was getting one of those headaches again.

  Kelsi pushed his head to one side as she worked around his ear, but Will’s thoughts were on a different woman. One he wanted to love but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Wasn’t sure if she could love him back. Wasn’t sure about a lot of things.

  “You’re thinking too hard about it, big brother.” Kelsi’s steady snipping worked around to the nape of his neck. “Just go canoeing. Kiss her again. And when you’re with her, think long and hard about your future.” Snip snip. “Would being with her—like, spending time with her—be a pleasant way to spend the rest of your life? Would letting her go back to South Carolina and then California leave you feeling like a giant, empty hole had just opened up in your chest? Well then, if that’s the case, it sounds like you should seriously consider asking her to stay. And marrying you.”

  “Maybe…”

  “No maybe about it.” Snip snip. “I love you, and I want you to be happy. And as far as I’m concerned, finding a person to love for the rest of your life is the way to being happy. That, and spicy food.”

  Ellie didn’t like spicy food, but she did love root beer. He figured he could be happy drinking root beer with her for the rest of their lives.

  “Now, stop thinking so hard, because I know you hate it. Start feeling. Does she make you feel the same way rafting makes you feel?”

  “Yeah.” Trust Kelsi to understand.

  “Then, there you go. You love her.”

  He loved her? He’d known her for such a short amount of time, but he couldn’t deny he liked her company, and her kisses. Kelsi flicked him in the ear again. “Ow!”

  “You’re thinking. I know it gives you a headache, so I’m helping by making you quit.” Will grinned, even when she shoved his chin into his chest to work on the back of his head. “I’m almost done here. Then you can sweep up all this mess while I sit on my tush on that swing, and you can tell me all about this romantic date you’ve got planned for Ellie.”

  “Only if you tell me all about the baby, and when I can expect my nephew to be ready to play with me.”

  A few more snips. “Your niece will wrap you around her little finger, I’ll bet.”

  “A girl?”

  “You’ll have to wait ‘til the ultrasound in October to find out, the same as us.”

  Will pretended to groan, but his heart was too happy to put much effort into it. He was going to be an uncle! He was surrounded by family he loved and could depend on, even when they didn’t see eye-to-eye, and he had a place here in this gorgeous land. Thanks to Ellie, he wasn’t in any more danger of losing his share of the ranch, and he had an intriguing new relationship to consider.

  He was happy, alright. But he’d be happier if he knew how Ellie felt about him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The muscles in her upper arms and lower back ached from the repetitive paddling motion, and from sitting upright in the canoe for the last two hours, but Ellie didn’t mind one bit. It had been years since she’d last sat in a canoe, but it’d all come back to her. She kneeled in the bow and concentrated on the right side, knowing that the stronger paddler in the stern would handle course corrections. The only difference—besides the view—between this evening and the years she’d spent paddling on the creek behind the house back home was that the man who sat behind her now wasn’t her father. No, the man behind her smelled far better, and made her laugh in an entirely different way.

  Probably thanks to the strangely compelling memory of his kisses.

  “See that hemlock that’s fallen into the water?”

  It would be useless to twist to see if Will was pointing, so instead she just scanned the shoreline until her eyes lit on the tree she assumed he meant. “Yes?”

  “Me and Jace used to go there for fishing when we were kids. Wes sometimes joined us.”

  “Not anymore, though?” The sun was low in the western sky, reflecting beautiful reds and oranges against the lake, and the time seemed perfect for easy paddle strokes and discussion of memories.

  “Nah. Jace is too busy in Moscow to be able to come back up here too often. I met him here when his foster parents sent him for one of the summer camps we used to run for kids.”

  “You don’t run them these days?” She hadn’t seen any groups of campers in the almost-three weeks she’d been at River’s End Ranch.

  “No, but I don’t know why. Never asked, I guess. They were nice. Sorta like Boy Scouting, except for anyone.”

  “And Wes doesn’t fish with you anymore?”

  “Wes has his own programs to run.” Was it her imagination, or had his voice gone a little harder? “I guess we’re all grown up now.”

  Well, she couldn’t ignore the bitterness she’d heard there. Ellie laid the paddle across the gunwales in front of her and twisted in her seat, careful not to drip water on her knees. Will flashed her a tight smile before turning his gaze back to the tree, his paddle dipping automatically in and out of the water. She could see—and hear—that this was a delicate topic, but she didn’t want to let it go. Not after what he’d told her about himself.

  “Being too grown up to go fishing doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun, Will.”

  He snorted, but didn’t look at her. “Don’t I know it? I still go sometimes.”

  “Alone?”

  “Nah.” He finally flashed her a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Indy goes too.”

  Hearing her name, the Border Collie lifted her head from her crossed paws, and gave a little inquisitive huff. Ellie smiled, because she knew that Will was trying to brush off whatever he was feeling, and didn’t want him to be hurt more.

  So she stretched her muscles, and settled back into her place, her paddle dipping gently once more. They’d put in at the boathouse, and Will had given her a tour of the mouth of Roiling Rapids River, and was now taking her across River’s End Lake. Not all the way across, because he said that it took a full day to get across and back
by canoe, but they were a ways out from the shoreline. He’d spent the last hour pointing out landmarks, or telling amusing stories about his adventures on the ranch, and the trouble the guests had gotten themselves into over the years. In return, she’d told him stories about growing up on a creek in the Lowcountry, and he’d teased her about calling the parts of the canoe by their nautical terms.

  In between, they’d lapse into companionable silence. Ellie remembered, years ago, learning that it was difficult to go canoeing with just anyone. Your canoeing partner had to be a partner in every sense; had to be able to anticipate your reactions, and had to compensate for your weaknesses.

  It really shouldn’t come as a surprise to her that she and Will were perfect partners. They’d worked well together on every other task; it was no wonder that they could canoe so well together, too.

  Which made it surprising when she got hit in the back of the head with a few water droplets. Ellie ignored it, until it happened a third time. She narrowed her eyes. It was almost as if…

  “Are you changing sides and flicking me with water?” She didn’t turn around when she asked.

  “Me?” Even though he couldn’t see her, she still hid her smile at his falsely innocent tone. “Flick water on you? On purpose? Never. Must be Indy.”

  The dog let lose a plaintive “ooowwww-wooooo,” probably irritated at being blamed, and Ellie managed to bite down on her laugh. Instead, she reached a little bit farther on the next stroke, turned her paddle blade the way she remembered from summer canoe rides with her father, and skimmed the water just right. The droplets splashed up and back, and she was rewarded with a sharp bark from Indy and spluttering from Will.

  “Did you just—?” And then he was laughing too hard to finish his question. She joined in, and it was a few minutes before she felt the canoe begin to move again. “Okay Miss-Obviously-Knows-How-To-Fight-Dirty, you hungry yet?”

  “Yes!” It had to be almost eight, and since he’d promised her dinner she’d just had a late lunch. “Starving!”

  “Well, we’re heading for that little cove about thirty degrees off your zero.”

  Ellie found it, but couldn’t help teasing him a bit more. “You mean, off the starboard bow?”

  “No, I mean off your zero. I don’t speak ‘Salty Old Sailor’, you know.”

  Ellie’s paddle bit deeply into the water, and she welcomed the strain on her shoulder. “Well then,” she sighed dramatically. “I guess that makes you a scurvy landlubber instead.”

  When he flicked more water at the back of her head, she laughed and ignored it, figuring she deserved it.

  When they nosed up to shore, Ellie scrambled out of the canoe, pulling the bow up onto the bank. Indy jumped overboard, not caring that she missed dry land completely, and the two humans chuckled to see her splashing around. Will pulled off his shoes and climbed into the shallows too, to push the craft ashore, and then led her towards a little clearing in the woods that ringed the rest of the lake.

  She was delighted to see a little fire ring, complete with a cooler and a fire already laid. “You’ve been busy, I take it?”

  Will squatted down to start the fire, and Ellie rubbed at her upper arms. Now that the sun was setting and the exercise was over, she’d be glad for the warmth.

  Nodding towards the cooler, Will said, “Dinner’s in there, if you don’t mind pulling it all out. We’re cooking over a campfire tonight, so I hope you remember how, city girl.”

  “I don’t know…” she teased in response. “Why do you think California’s so prone to wild fires?” He chuckled.

  Dinner was brats, speared on two metal skewers and grilled over the fire, and served on fresh rolls with a variety of mustards. “Like grown-up hot dogs,” Ellie couldn’t help quipping. “But way more mustard than I remember.”

  “Hey, you can’t do brats without mustard!”

  “But four different kinds?”

  “I had to guess at your preference. Are you a sweet-mustard type of gal? Or horseradish-cheddar? Or vinegar? Or stone-ground?”

  “I had no idea there were so many!”

  Will took a bite of brat, and said around a full mouth, “I’ve got three more back home!”

  Ellie gave in and, laughing, tried a little of all four. She declared the horseradish mustard her favorite, of course.

  There were frosty bottles of root beer in the cooler too, and after their second brat each—plus one for Indy—they roasted marshmallows. Ellie hadn’t done it in years, but was excited to taste burnt, crispy sugar again.

  Sure enough, as soon as Will had speared her marshmallows on the skewer, she shoved the end directly into the flickering flames. He laughed as the sugar caught fire, and she pulled out the treat to let it crisp. “What?”

  “Pull ‘em off, and I’ll give you two more.”

  “No way!” She moved the skewer out of his reach. “I like them burned.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe it!” He watched her pull off the sticky black outer shell and pop it into her mouth. Because she liked the way his eyes followed her movements, she made a point of licking her fingers clean with a smile, and didn’t miss the way his own tongue flicked over his lips in response.

  He had to clear his throat and look away. “No one actually likes burned marshmallow. You just eat it because you’re too impatient.” He was piercing the fluffy treats with his own skewer.

  “That sounds like a challenge, Will Weston.”

  “It is.” His cocky grin was back as he held his skewer well above the flames. “Watch and wait.”

  Sure enough, his marshmallows began to brown and toast perfectly. That didn’t stop her from gobbling down another four burnt ones while waiting, though. Of course she teased him the whole time, but he only grinned. Finally, he declared his done, and removed the top one to present it to her.

  The marshmallow was firm, but not crispy, and had toasted a delightful golden-brown. Ellie bit into it, and her eyes widened.

  “Pretty good, huh?” Will didn’t sound smug, but he was smiling. “Told you so.”

  It was perfect. As soon as Ellie could swallow, she told him so. “That’s really yummy!”

  “The secret is not rushing. Sure, you can burn a marshmallow quickly, but these are worth the wait.” He was already spearing more of the treats on his skewer. “Just gotta be patient.”

  She began to giggle, and he looked up with a frown. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled innocently when he began to roast his marshmallows. “It’s just that you didn’t strike me as the patient type. With all of your talk of hating spreadsheets and loving the outdoors.”

  “Hey, now. It took patience to train Indy.” The dog had been bounding in and out of the lake since they landed, but now lay curled by the fire, her belly full of bratwurst. She glanced at them, but didn’t bother to acknowledge her name. “And rafting is more about knowing and anticipating the way the water works, but paddling on the lake is all about patience.”

  Ellie accepted another perfectly toasted marshmallow, and smiled. “I like that you’ve got so many layers, then, Will Weston.”

  “What can I say?” Now he sounded cocky. “I’m a surprising guy.”

  They settled back against one of the logs to watch the sunset. The wood was cool against her back, but not uncomfortable, and she stretched both of her bare legs out, closer to the fire.

  “Careful of cinders. The first-aid kit in the golf cart is pretty rinky,” he warned.

  “Is that Idaho-speak for small?” She saw his grin flash from the corner of her eye. “And I didn’t know you drove a golf cart.”

  “Ugh. Not on purpose. But the trail back here isn’t wide enough for the truck, and we need a way to get the canoe back.”

  “We’re loading a canoe on top of a golf cart?” Ellie didn’t even try to keep the doubt from her voice.

  “Sure. You’ll have to run beside it, though. To hold on, I mean.”

  She snorted
and drove her elbow into his side just as he was taking a drink of root beer, and he spit it everywhere. They both laughed, even as he wiped his chin with the bottom of his tee-shirt.

  Being here—being with him—felt right. He didn’t feel like her employer. He felt…like home. Not just Idaho, or this ranch, or this gorgeous lake and sunset. It was him. He was the one who made her feel so comfortable, so peaceful. So at home.

  And the thought of leaving him next week was making her sick to her stomach, which was a shame. Taking a deep, pine-scented breath of air, Ellie forced herself not to think of the future. Don’t think about next week, or what’s going to happen. Don’t think of going home to South Carolina, or going home to California, or figuring out a new home altogether. Just think of…now. She exhaled, and felt some of her tension leave as well.

  When Will draped his arm across the log behind her, it was just natural to sink against it, against him. To seek the warmth of his body, and the way touching him made her feel all tingly and alive. He sighed too, a sort of comfortable sound, and she wondered if he was as cozy as she was.

  “This is nice, Will.” It was more than nice, but she wasn’t about to put all of her feelings into words.

  “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to try it for a while, and I’m glad you agreed. I mean, to come here with me, you know?”

  She smiled. “You mean I’m the first girl you’ve made paddle her own canoe to eat a mustard-based dinner?”

  “I mean that you’re the first woman I’ve ever wanted to show the lake at sunset, and sit beside a fire with.”

  She’d been teasing him, but when he’d responded with that wonderfully romantic, entirely too-sweet line, there wasn’t anything she could say besides, “Oh.”

  After a while, she felt his fingers brush against her skin. His arm was still around her, and he was slowly rubbing the back of his thumb along her upper arm. Gently, nonchalantly. Like it wasn’t a big deal to be cuddled up beside her boss and loving the feel of him.

  Almost-desperate for another taste of him.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, though.”

  His off-hand comment, right on the heels of her thought about his kiss, made her suck down too much root beer. “What?”