by Cindi Madsen
“So, what?” he asked. “You came here to count your chickens before they hatched?”
She crossed her arms. “Just checking the place out.”
“You realize that if you get the property, there are going to be animals and the occasional unwanted creature involved. How are you going to take care of that? How about the remodeling and the electricity and the plumbing?”
Offense pinched her gut and stepping back didn’t seem so hard anymore. “I know, and I’ll deal with problems as they arise. There are people for those kinds of things, and if the place was mine right now, I would’ve been able to call them. What? You’re planning on doing it all yourself?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ll hire help for the construction of the lodge, but I’ll also be using my own two hands to build it.”
“That doesn’t mean you want it more than I do.”
“I didn’t say it did. Just pointing out that I might be better qualified. Do you even know anything about the rest of the land?” He swung his arms wide. “It’s more than this crumbling building.”
She clenched her jaw, the anger that came out around him rising up again. How could she be so attracted to someone who also made her so furious? “Of course I do,” she said, even though she hadn’t really thought about the rest of the land. She just liked that there was so much of it between everything else.
Heath tilted his head, his skepticism clear.
“Okay, so I don’t know where all the property lines are or much about the rest of the land, but I’ll learn. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Heath glanced at his truck, and some kind of internal debate took place. Resolve replaced the back-and-forth and then he said, “Come on, then.”
“Come on? I’ve got my car. I’m going to—”
“If you’re serious about this place, you should see it, and you should see it with someone who knows it. I’ll get my bike out of the truck.” He set the shovel in the bed of the truck and then climbed up and unfastened the motorcycle.
“How do I know you won’t drag me out there and leave my body?” Quinn asked. “Weed out the competition?”
“Because I could’ve let the snake do that for me. I’d just tell Sadie I was too late.”
“So you thought about it?”
A grin spread across his face, as if that were actually a funny question. He set up a ramp, backed his motorcycle down it, and then scooted forward on the seat and gestured for her to get on.
Quinn looked at her car and considered telling him to forget it. But now she was curious, and she’d always been a sucker for motorcycle rides. Plus, the guy had killed a snake for her, and despite the jokes, she knew she’d be safer checking out the property with him than on her own.
She stepped over the headless reptile, wrinkling her nose, and then swung herself onto the bike. Her front slid against Heath’s firm back, the curved seat not allowing for any space between them. She loosely wrapped her arms around his waist.
He revved the engine and glanced over his shoulder. “Better hold on tight. I want to keep you around so I can see the look on your face when I win over the committee.”
Before she could answer that, the motorcycle shot forward, dirt spitting behind them, and she had no choice but to cling to him and hope that this whole venture wouldn’t end up biting her in the butt.
Chapter Six
Heath rode higher and higher up the trail, until the dirt slipped under the motorcycle’s tires and the rocks got big enough to bounce them a few inches off the seat. Quinn clung onto him, which tempted him to push farther up the steep hill, but in the end, he decided safer would be better than wrecked. On his own he’d done it, but another person switched up the dynamic, and they weren’t wearing helmets.
He maneuvered the bike to a relatively flat area and shut off the engine. “We’ve got to walk for a bit. You okay with that?”
“Bring it,” she said. She was too competitive for her own good. She climbed down from the bike and his gaze snagged on the tiny shorts that displayed lots of smooth skin. She pulled her dark hair into a high ponytail and secured it with the band she had around her wrist. She had a bright red stripe of hair underneath that wasn’t visible when her hair was down but practically glowed now. “You coming?”
He made sure the kickstand would hold the bike, pocketed the keys, and then started up the trail. He stopped when he spotted several deer up ahead. Keeping his movements slow and his voice quiet, he pointed them out to Quinn. “See them?”
Her eyes lit up as she looked at the group—there were five feeding in the clearing, including a tiny one that must’ve been born this spring. “It’s kind of crazy that so much wildlife is only a few minutes from home.”
“That’s why I love it here,” he said.
“So you can hunt them down?”
He frowned at her. “You really think I just go shooting anything that moves? I enjoy seeing the wildlife same as you. Have you ever gone fishing?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And I suppose you’ve had a burger.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I hunt for food and for sport, and if it wasn’t allowed, there’d be overpopulation problems. It just shows that you don’t know anything about the land.”
“How many times am I going to have to hear that today?”
“Until you open your eyes.”
She looked like she wanted to punch him—maybe this was a bad idea. Clearly they’d never agree. The wind shifted and the deer caught their scent and darted away.
“You want to go back?” he asked.
“No. I want to see the rest of the place. Regardless of having a stubborn, condescending tour guide.” She shot him a tight smile and then charged up the hill, her ponytail swinging—apparently it didn’t matter to her that she didn’t know where they were going. It gave him a good view of her backside, so he simply followed, calling out a “go left” or “veer right.”
When they reached the creek, he found a place where the water was about shin-deep with lots of rocks to cross—mostly for Quinn, because his boots would keep his feet dry as long as it didn’t go over the top of them.
She bounced from rock to rock, having to jump when her strides weren’t long enough to follow the path he’d taken.
“Watch that last one,” he said. “It’s—”
She leaped onto it and her foot slid out from under her. She fell backward, barely getting her hands down to semi-catch herself as she hit the water with a small splash.
“Slippery,” he finished. He took a step back into the stream, sure she was about to freak about getting her clothes wet. All he could really do now was make an attempt at damage control. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Help me up?” She extended her hand, and he took hold of it. He was surprised she’d asked for help. Usually she was so—
She yanked on his arm and swept her leg under his. He landed hard on his butt and she erupted in laughter. “That’s for throwing the snake at me.”
For a moment he didn’t move, simply sat and gaped at her smug expression as cold water seeped into his jeans. Her impressive takedown move and laughter were so completely at odds with the prissy reaction he’d expected that it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. “Nice ninja skills.”
She jumped up and grinned. “It’s in the blood, you know. That, and my father forced my sister and me to train in aikido.”
He pushed to his feet and shook water off his hands. “So that makes you…”
“I’m Japanese. With or without the aikido. And no, I won’t make you Japanese food, and I especially won’t make you Chinese food—just putting it out there now, because guys tend to ask, like, first date. Not that this is a date. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he said, not bothering to mention it was the closest thing to a date he’d been on for a while. “And I wouldn’t dream of asking you to cook for me. You’d probably poison the food or sweep kick me as I was eating and then stab me with your chop
sticks.”
She laughed again, more happy than evil sounding this time, and it echoed through his chest.
“And you don’t ask me if I make good moonshine.” He heaved a sigh. “I get so sick of girls asking me that. I’m good for more than providing booze, you know.”
She laughed again, and he leaned in as if he were about to divulge a huge secret. “Actually, I’ve got a really good batch in my bathtub right now, so maybe you should ask.”
“Then I guess I’m coming over tonight.”
Suddenly he realized how close they were and the way he had to work harder for every one of his breaths. Quinn coming over tonight sounded good—guess he’d have to figure out how to make moonshine after all.
Even with their constant clashing, he felt an inexplicable draw to her that made him want to know more. “So, I hope I don’t come across as stupid asking this, but I’m guessing you speak Japanese as well?”
“Hai.”
“I’m going to assume that means yes.”
A smile curved her lips. “Yes. And it’s not a stupid question, by the way.” She walked past him, toward the bank of the stream, and he followed. He offered to go back if she didn’t want to continue the hike in wet clothes, and she declined, stating that between the heat and the hiking, the cool water had been refreshing.
As they continued up the hill, side by side, he picked up the get-to-know-you conversation again. “Were you born here or in Japan?”
“Here. Well, not Hope Springs, here, but in Cheyenne. My mom’s parents came over when she was a girl, and my dad’s parents relocated to the States when he was a teenager. He had to work really hard to learn English—he always talks about how difficult it was, and how long it took for other people to understand him clearly—so he made sure my sister and I learned early. We spoke a combination of both languages at home, and I’ll admit to being very Americanized, but my parents always wanted us to maintain our heritage, too.”
She paused, her chest heaving with labored breaths. This last climb had him feeling the exertion, too. “Most people just assume instead of ask,” she continued. “I think they’re too uncomfortable.”
“Well, I’m probably just too backward to know polite conversation.”
She placed a hand on his arm, her soft touch bringing back that stomach-tightening sensation he’d felt at the reception last weekend. “Not at all. I tend to be the person who blurts things out without thinking. Despite our differences of opinions on pretty much everything, you’re not half bad.”
“I can’t tell if you’re extending an olive branch or smacking me with it.”
She laughed again—he was quickly becoming addicted to the sound. “Right now I’d say extending. But I’ll hang onto the end so that in a few minutes when we disagree on something, I can use it for smacking.
“So what about you?” she asked, ducking under low pine tree branches that made a canopy over their path. “Were you born here in Hope Springs?”
“Yep. Lived here until I graduated high school, then I wanted to get away for a while. I traveled all over and did a dozen different jobs, everything from construction to mechanic work. Played the guitar whenever I could and built motorcycles in my spare time. I never thought I’d miss Hope Springs, but then I started to, and when I found out about Mountain Ridge, I knew it was time to come home. Meeting Sadie and forming the band made it feel a bit like fate—if I believed in that kind of thing.”
“But you don’t?”
“No. I believe in making your own destiny, not waiting for the universe to line up for you. If I’d waited for that, I’d be my dad.” It’d come out before he’d thought it through, and now he wanted to pluck it out of the air and take it back. Instead of waiting for her to ask about his dad, he charged on. “Anyway, just wait till you see this view.”
The hill turned even steeper, and the gravel under their feet slid. Every foot placement became important, every branch a lifeline to hold onto. Quinn was doing fine, but once he crested the hill, he extended a hand anyway. She took it, and he pulled her the rest of the way up, their bodies bumping together for a brief moment before she turned to look at the grassy valley spread out before them. On the far end, jagged blue-gray mountains with white tips touched fluffy white clouds, the pine trees scattered across the lower two-thirds reduced to specks of green that blurred into each other.
“Wow,” she said, her voice filled with reverence and awe. “You can see Second Chance Ranch from here. And Hope Springs Reservoir—I got stuck in a boat there once. Word to the wise, keep a tight hold of your oars, because those things are important.”
He smiled at her, fascinated by how different she was from who he’d expected. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m out there.”
She plunked down on a patch of grass, leaned back on her palms, and tipped her face to the sun. Serenity showed on her features, along with genuine happiness that made her skin practically glow.
What were you thinking bringing her up here so she could get even more attached to the land? Now you’ll feel extra horrible when you get it instead.
Too late to undo it now, so he sat next to her.
“So, where exactly are the property lines?” she asked, looking at him. “You know, so my eyes can be more open.”
There was a hint of sarcasm in there, but he could tell she wanted to know. He pointed east. “Right along the ridge there, across the base of the mountain to the river, all the way to up here. Second Chance Ranch borders to the west, but to the north it’s national forest land—that’s where I’d take the hunters. They’d have to draw licenses through the Wyoming Game and Fish Department, and they limit how many go out in an area—I’d double-check that they had them before I took anyone out, too. I already talked to Royce about renting his horses, so we’d be able to ride far and cover both big game units—”
“Big game units?” Quinn asked, wrinkling her forehead.
“That’s where you can hunt. Like I said, the Wyoming Game and Fish Department limits licenses, and they also tell you where you can hunt—you draw for which type of game in a certain area. Since Mountain Ridge is central and easily accessible to both areas, it makes it the perfect location for a lodge, and with the different game and seasons, we could be busy most of the fall.”
“We?”
Again he wondered how wise it was to give up all this information. But the town committee knew, so it wasn’t anything she couldn’t find out by asking a couple of questions. “My brother Cam and me. We’re going to run it together—that’s how I’m going to run the lodge and stay in the band. He’s been in the army for ten years—he enlisted as soon as he was eighteen—but he’s only got two more months left of his tour and then he’ll be getting out. We’ve talked about doing this together for years.”
Quinn’s shoulders slumped and her chin dropped.
“If we get it,” he quietly added.
“When I was a little girl, I stayed at the B and B with my grandmother and the rest of my family. Some of my best memories are there, and they mean even more now that she’s passed on. I want other people to be able to find this magical place where their parents actually take a vacation and spend time with their kids. Where they can have space to run and play and discover the beauty and welcoming people of Hope Springs. Ever since the place shut down, I swore I’d find a way to make it mine. After my grandmother passed away, I only became more determined. It’s a piece of her, and I don’t want to let it go.”
Here they were, back to their impossible situation. “So I’m competing with a dead grandma.”
“And I’m competing with someone who’s given ten years of his life for his country,” Quinn said. She turned to him and sighed. “I figure this can go two ways. Either we try to undermine and backstab each other…” Her eyebrows arched. “Which I don’t want to do, because it feels icky and politician-like, and, well, you’re a decent guy who killed a snake for me…”
He couldn’t help leaning in, propping his han
d in the grass so that his face and hers were lined up—man, she was pretty, the sun highlighting her unique features and shining off her dark hair. “What’s behind door number two? I think I’m already voting for it.”
One corner of her mouth twisted up. “Or we can understand that we both have good reasons for wanting the property. We can play the town committee’s game and give our all to get it—on the up and up—and at the end, we shake the other person’s hand and wish them good luck.”
“Maybe we should throw in a congratulatory kiss, too,” he said. “For good measure.”
A shaky breath escaped her, and he was glad he hadn’t held that thought inside like he probably should’ve. “Well, if it’s in the name of good sportsmanship…”
His gaze moved to her lips. Maybe they should seal the agreement with a kiss, too.
“So it’s a deal?” she asked. “We agree to make the best of the situation and not turn this into a smear campaign?”
“It’s a deal. Although now I’m wondering what skeletons you have in your closet.”
“Good thing we already have a deal, then,” she said, grabbing his hand and shaking it. Instead of letting go, he held on for a moment longer and dragged his thumb across her knuckles.
Then both of their phones went crazy.
“Wow, I’m surprised we get service up here,” Quinn said, pulling her phone out of her bra, which made him jealous of a phone for the first time in his life. “And I’m glad I didn’t have my phone in my pocket when I fell into the water or it would’ve been toast.”
“It’s hit-or-miss. Cross over the ridge and nothing gets through, but this spot’s high enough to get pretty good reception.” Heath lifted his phone, thinking he was glad he’d shelled out money for the LifeProof case. Years of working on vehicles and traipsing through the mountains had caused several broken phones.
He’d expected the text to be from the town committee and include more hoops to jump through. Instead it was a group text to him and Quinn from Sadie.
