by Cindi Madsen
“Hey,” Eli said as she brought Bud back inside the barn. “I was looking for you. Wanted to show you something.”
As for the youth camp side of things, Addison still disliked her and didn’t bother hiding it, but the rest of the kids were easy to get along with, and she was always glad on the days when she got to work with Eli.
He took the sketch pad out from under his arm and extended it to her. Sadie flipped through images of trees, horses, the river, and several of the other teens. There was one of Addison sitting on a tree stump, frowning at the moss-covered hook on the end of her fishing pole.
“Did that one yesterday, while everyone was fishing. She was so mad she didn’t catch anything but moss,” he said with a laugh.
Sadie had rolled her eyes at the girl’s pouting, but Eli’s drawing showed the humor in the situation, and guessing from the detail, he was still a bit intrigued with Addison’s beauty. “They’re amazing, Eli. You’re a great artist.”
He shot her a shy, crooked grin. “Thanks.” He set his pad off to the side, took Bud from her, and started to undo the saddle. “I used to spend hours in my room with just my music, sketch pad, and pencils. Then my parents decided I wasn’t ‘engaged enough.’”
Eli slid the saddle off Bud and Sadie took off the bridle. Once in a while he’d make a comment about home, but they were usually around too many other people for him to divulge much about it. “We had fights over stupid stuff, too. Just normal crap like cleaning my room, and when I did want to go out, they wouldn’t let me because my friends were”—Eli made air quotes—“‘bad influences.’”
The kids’ counseling sessions were private, but Caroline had given Sadie the basic rundown of the teens, so she’d know how to better handle situations as they arose. So she knew Eli’s parents were concerned that he had anger issues and possibly a drug problem because of his mood swings. Caroline thought it was typical teenage stuff, surges of hormones and frustrations over no one understanding him.
“So they told me I had to go out for sports.” Eli turned to face her and leaned back against one of the posts. “I’d played baseball in junior high and they wanted me to try out for the team. I did to get them off my back, suffered through practices I hated, and figured at least I could draw on the bus to away games. While the JV team was playing one night, I found a teammate picking on a guy from my art class. So I punched him.”
Part of her wanted to give Eli a high five for standing up for his friend—she hated bullies. But she assumed encouraging physical violence wasn’t the way to go.
“Anyway, I got suspended, and then my parents told me they were sending me here for the first part of summer. All because I joined the team like they wanted.”
“And maybe a little tiny bit because of the punching?” Sadie asked, raising her eyebrows.
Eli rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing across his lips. “I’m just saying that I never would’ve been there if they hadn’t insisted I go out for baseball in the first place.”
Sadie bumped her shoulder into his. “And then you wouldn’t be here, and who would I talk to?”
“True. So if you think about it, I really punched the guy for you.”
Sadie laughed. “Sure, just throw me under the bus. Way to take responsibility, dude.” Seeing how he’d bonded with the horses and how easily smiles came these days made her appreciate even more what this place did for teens like Eli.
He grinned and picked up his sketch pad. “I gotta get back. I have to meet with Mrs. Dixon in five, and if I’m even a minute late, I’ll get more chores.”
“See you later.” Sadie put Bud in his stall and made sure the gate was latched. While she liked working with the teens, she also enjoyed when she got a few peaceful moments alone with the horses.
She moved over to Chevy’s stall. “It’s been a hot day, and it’s a bit dusty in here. I think you could use a bath. What do you think?”
Chevy neighed and nudged Sadie with her nose.
“That’s what I think, too,” Sadie replied, used to chatting and translating for the animals now. Just call her Dr. Doolittle. She unlatched the stall and led Chevy outside. Within a few minutes, she had the hose hooked up and the water turned on, the nozzle on the end allowing her to spray farther with a simple pull of the trigger. As she ran the water over Chevy, she started to hum “Before He Cheats.”
When she got to the chorus, she went ahead and threw in a few dance moves as she belted out the lyrics—there was really no other way to sing Carrie. Water droplets rained down on her as she twirled, and Chevy pranced around like she wanted to get in on the singing and dancing, too.
“Hey.”
The deep voice startled her so much that she dropped the hose. When she spun around, Royce was standing behind her, sunlight glowing around him and casting his features in shadow. As he stepped closer, though, she could clearly make out his amused grin.
She’d nearly forgotten the impact of his full smile. The way it lit up his eyes, showed off his strong jawline, and made attraction thrum through her veins. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Hey. I was just…” She picked up the hose and gestured to Chevy, who shook out her mane, sending water all over Sadie.
She shrieked, and Royce’s low chuckle drifted toward her. He came over, and Chevy whinnied, moving her head toward him. Even though there was still lots of space between her and Royce, Sadie’s pulse skittered. It should be getting easier to be around him, but her body hadn’t seemed to figure that out yet.
He ran his hand down the horse’s damp neck. “So, how’s she doing?”
“Seems good,” Sadie said. “She’s eating and her energy’s up—I walked her around the corral a couple of times this morning. She’s getting pretty big, though.”
One corner of Royce’s mouth kicked up. “I was actually asking her about you.”
“Well, clearly she thinks I’m awesome.”
He was fighting it, but the other side of his mouth was trying to take the half smile to a full one—two in one day. A record! “And she likes the singing, too, I’d bet.”
“She doesn’t complain, anyway. As you saw, sometimes she even joins in.”
Royce looked down at her, the brim of his hat making it hard to get a good read on his expression. He opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll leave you to it.” He patted Chevy’s neck and then started away, same as he’d been doing for the past two weeks. That was the most they’d talked about anything not job related, and since his horse was involved, Sadie wasn’t even sure she could say that.
She’d missed him for six years, but in a distant, once-in-a-while way. But being next to him, remembering how much they used to talk and laugh, in addition to all the kisses and intimate moments, and still having so much distance between them?
It made her heart feel like someone had turned it inside out.
Defeated, she lifted the nozzle, circling around the front of Chevy to finish giving her a bath. She glanced at Royce’s retreating figure, and she wasn’t sure what exactly got into her, but suddenly she found herself turning the nozzle toward him. She aimed right at his back and pulled the trigger.
His spine went stick straight, and then he slowly spun around. Her heart sped and she gripped the nozzle tighter, not sure whether to break into laughter or run. “Sadie…” he said, his voice dangerously low.
“Yes?” she replied in her most innocent tone. Then she went ahead and pulled the trigger again, hitting him square in the chest.
He charged, and she squealed, nearly tripping backward over her feet as he rushed toward her. He ate up the distance in a couple of long strides, and as she fought for control of the hose, she was thinking that running would’ve been the right move. Trying to curl herself around the nozzle to keep it out of his hands was no use—Royce was too strong. He pried it from her fingers, pointed it at her, and pulled the trigger. Water pelted her in the chest, and she ga
sped as it ran down her shirt.
“Not so smug now, are we?” Royce said with a chuckle, his finger curling around the trigger again. She held up her hands and took a step back, but instead of taking it as a surrender move, he apparently took it as a sign to let loose the spray again.
“Royce!”
“Yes?” he said, mimicking her from earlier, while flicking his wrist to make sure the water got her from head to toe. She laughed and swatted the stream back at him, which was mostly ineffective, but at least got him a little wet. Through the sparkling droplets, she saw a victorious grin curve his lips— Oh, he thought he’d won, did he?
She dove for the nozzle, grasping it in a death grip. Water continued to spray everywhere as she tried to twist it back to face him. Chevy circled them, nudging them with her nose, until all three of them were dripping wet.
That was when Sadie noticed that they’d gathered quite the audience. The teens and Caroline were all staring, jaws slack. Royce’s grip on her and the hose loosened, and he was starting to get that stern, too-serious expression. Worried this was about to turn into a big deal and ruin the happy vibe she’d finally managed to get with him, she grabbed the nozzle from Royce and sprayed Eli.
He didn’t miss a beat. He grabbed a bucket, scooped water up from the nearby trough, and tossed it at her. Excited shouts and squeals went up as the water flew and more people jumped in. Before long, every single member of the camp was involved. Alliances formed, the ground became slick with mud, and laughter filled the air.
After everyone was beyond soaked, Caroline called the fight, telling everyone to go change and then meet at the barn in twenty for afternoon chores. Sadie reached for Chevy’s bridle to lead her back into the stalls—that was probably more than enough excitement for a pregnant horse in one day.
Royce stepped in front of her, quite the sight now that his hair was dripping wet and his clothes were plastered to his skin. “So, tonight we’re gonna build a big fire and have hot dogs and s’mores. It’s a reward for the kids, since they’ve worked so hard. Thought you might want to be there.” He wiped at the dirt that’d gotten on his hat when it’d fallen off in the scuffle. “Unless you’ve got other plans?”
“Oh. No. I mean, no other plans. I’ll just go home and change, and then come back?”
“Good.” Royce nodded. Then he was off, and she was standing there, fighting the urge to break into another song and dance.
…
Royce stared at the cloudless evening sky. It wouldn’t be long before the sun was completely gone from the day and the sky was inky black. Growing up, he used to gaze at the stars, listen to the silence, and feel like the only person in the world. Then his parents had started the Alternative Ranch Camp for Youth, the two extra cabins were built, and he’d have to drive or ride out a couple of miles to feel alone. All he’d ever wanted to be was a cowboy. Yes, there were the rodeo competitions, and he’d thought he’d do them longer, but ranching had always been his long-term goal. He wasn’t sure he was very good at running the camp, but he was trying his best, and he had his land and his horses and he was happy with just that.
Until Sadie came back, and he’d gone and started missing the way they used to talk. Her smile, the sound of her laugh. The way she challenged him and drove him crazy in every possible way—she was free in a way most people never were. Like with those dance moves and the water fight, turning work into her very own party.
Back in high school, they’d drive a few miles from the house and lie in the back of his truck to look at stars. Anyway, that was his pretense for getting her out there. Stargazing was nice and all, but really it was more a chance to be alone with her than talk constellations. And man, had they taken advantage of all that alone time, all those nights under the clear sky. When it was too cold, they’d maneuver around in the cab of his truck, taking it as a fun challenge instead of a hitch in their plans.
Desire wound through him, heating his blood. His body remembered her too well, all the ways they used to be perfect for each other. But it hadn’t been enough for her. She’d talked about pursuing a singing career, and he’d always admired her ambition, but he’d thought she could do it from here. With him. He would’ve supported her. Which just proved he’d had no idea what it really took to become a famous singer.
He probably shouldn’t have proposed that summer, but he’d loved her, and he could feel her slipping away. He’d thought it’d tie them together instead of tear them apart forever.
This is stupid. I can’t keep thinking about the past. Inviting her tonight was stupid, too, but she worked hard, and the nights around the fire were a reward for all of them. It was unfair for her to miss out because he couldn’t get his head straight.
He’d thought he’d been doing a pretty good job until this afternoon. Now all he could think about was her laughing and squealing as the water rained down on them, her wet T-shirt clinging to every curve of her skin. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get that image out of his mind.
I should’ve never let it get that far.
That’s it. Cory and I gotta get out more. I need to be around women who aren’t Sadie. Maybe he’d even remind himself how easy picking one up could be. Then he’d get this stir-crazy feeling out of his system and be able to focus again.
The fire wasn’t started yet, and Sadie was in short sleeves, standing next to the pit and rubbing her arms. Even with the fire, the temperature at night usually dropped enough to need a coat. Not to mention Sadie had always run colder than he did, and even with his long-sleeved flannel and light jacket on, he was still plenty cool.
What’s she doing running around without a jacket?
She shivered, hugging her arms tighter around her. Maybe if she had an ounce of body fat, she wouldn’t be on the verge of hypothermia.
“Mark, Eli, and Brady, go get some wood. Addison, grab the matches from Mrs. Dixon, will you?” Royce shook off his jacket and tossed it at Sadie. It hit her in the face before she caught it in her arms. Oops.
Her mouth dropped open, and he was sure he was about to get it, but then she just slipped into the too-big jacket. Her big green eyes were on him, and he was starting to feel that desire again, twisting at his gut, making him want to reach out and wrap his arms around her so she’d be even warmer.
He clenched his jaw, hating that she cut so easily through the defenses he’d worked to build. “Did you forget how to make a fire? You could’ve gotten to work on that instead of jumping around to keep yourself warm.”
“I thought maybe it was part of your teaching experience and I didn’t want to mess it up. But here, take your damn coat back and I’ll build the stupid-ass fire,” she said, starting to undo the zipper she’d just finished closing.
“You owe money to the swear jar,” Addison said as she approached.
Royce took a large step forward and put his hands on Sadie’s shoulders to keep her from pulling her arms out of the sleeves. “I’m sorry, okay? Just keep the jacket on.” He didn’t know why he got so irritated every time he started feeling soft toward her. Maybe it was his defense mechanism kicking in, but he was struggling to find the right balance, too far to the friendly side one minute, and then way too far the other the next. He needed to get it better under control before he ruined the progress they’d made.
He tilted his head toward Addison. “She is right about the swear jar, though—two in one sentence, even. That’s a pretty heavy fine. Why don’t you help me get the branches for roasting and we’ll consider you paid up.”
Sadie narrowed her eyes at him, then she tugged the jacket closed and marched toward the bushes where it was easiest to find good hot-dog-roasting sticks.
He scratched the back of his neck, trying to come up with something to smooth it over. “So, what do you think about the program now that you’ve been around it for a couple weeks?”
“I don’t know what I expected, but I’m surprised. I mean, there’s only one of them who gets under my skin, and you guys give them more wo
rk than I expected, yet more freedom, too, if that makes sense.”
“It’s a work/reward system that my mom and dad perfected over the years. Like tonight we’ll give them all knives so they can carve their own sticks. We could easily buy those fancy metal ones—my mom has some, in fact. But this way, it keeps them busy and shows them they’ve earned our trust. Over all the years, we’ve only had a handful of kids who were on a weapons ban, where they couldn’t be trusted with anything like a pitchfork, shovel, or tiny pocketknife.” He stepped over a large rock. “Which one gets under your skin? Eli?” She sure hid it well, and he was a little disappointed. He thought they’d sort of bonded.
“No, Eli’s awesome! That kid’s going to be a famous artist someday, mark my words. That Addison chick hates me, and I”—she lowered her voice—“I find it hard to like her. Guess that means I fail at working the camp side of things.”
“Are you kidding me? All of us have had kids we can’t stand, even my mom, although she’s the best at hiding it. I was having so much trouble with Eli, but he’s changed since you started working here.” Royce noticed that she expected him to be famous—that was the only way success was achieved with her, apparently. “Addison’s got a big attitude, but she’s funny, and she really pulls the rest of them together.”
“I guess that’s why it’s good to have several people working with them. Everyone connects to someone different and even to different aspects of the work. I love that it’s part of my job description to take the time to talk with and listen to someone who needs it, by the way—every other job I’ve had, my chattiness has gotten me into trouble. I hate rules for when people are allowed to talk and for how long.”
Oh, he remembered, and he couldn’t help smiling. Chattiness was an understatement—it was more like she was compelled to talk. Back in high school, she and Quinn were constantly assigned to sit far apart in classes because they couldn’t be quiet when they were together, and long road trips to rodeos had been filled with discussions about whatever topic popped into her head.
