The boy stepped up to the half door of the stall and the mare eagerly took the carrot from his hands. Standing beside him, Bree then offered the mare an apple.
“Whoa! Cody, get away from there before you get bit!” Ryan hissed from the open door at the other end of the stable.
“It’s okay,” Bree assured him. “The mare doesn’t consider him a threat.”
“But I am?” Ryan walked toward them and the mare pinned back her ears and began to toss her head.
Bree laughed. “Yes, you are.”
“She likes me,” Cody told his dad.
“Many horses have a different reaction to children than they do to adults,” Bree added. As if on cue, the next song on the CD player crooned, “Nothing like a young’un to soften the likes of this old heart.”
“What’s with the music?” Ryan asked, stepping into a nearby stall out of the mare’s sight but still within Bree’s.
“I thought it would help them relax.”
Ryan grinned. “Great idea. Creates the perfect mood.”
The filly sidled up against her mother, and when Bree reached for her, the filly pulled away. So much for a truce.
“Cody, you better run, or you’ll be late for school,” Ryan told him.
“Bye, Bree! Thanks for the treats.” Cody hurried toward the door and waved to his dad. “Bye, Dad.”
Ryan returned the wave and then motioned for Bree to join him as he opened the stall door of a black quarter horse with a white strip across his nose. “Bree, I want you to meet the Blue-Eyed Bandit.”
“Your horse?”
He nodded and she glanced at the muscular horse, but was more aware of Ryan than the animal before them. Broad shoulders. Strong arms. He waited for her reaction, so she smiled and said, “Nice.”
Ryan circled around, touched the small of her back, and she jumped forward, which . . . placed Bree between him and the horse. Too late, she recalled her brother’s instructions, “Don’t get caught behind enemy lines.” She took a step forward to give the animal a pat on the neck, without letting Ryan know she was really trying to distance herself from him.
“I thought maybe we’d brush Bandit together before you give the filly another shot.”
Bree frowned. “You think I need a confidence boost?”
Ryan took another step toward her, and grinned. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry about the other day, but this time I have a plan,” Bree informed him.
He gave her a direct look. “So do I.”
She glanced away and spotted a bucket of brushes already set in the corner of the stall. She took one and handed Ryan another. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’ve got this side.”
Bree expected Ryan to brush the other side of the horse, but he stepped up beside her and set out to work on the same side of the horse as she. What was he doing?
She slid him a sideways glance and he smiled, took her hand in his, and pulled her fingers up to the horse’s mane. “Feel how soft his hair is,” Ryan murmured, his voice close to her ear. “How sleek.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. All she could feel was the warmth of his arm pressed against hers, the firm grasp of his hand over her own.
“Breathe in his scent,” he continued.
She’d forgotten to breathe altogether until he mentioned it. She took a deep breath and drew in Ryan’s fresh, manly scent instead. “He’s . . . he’s . . .”
She spun around and found Ryan’s face just inches from her own. She couldn’t help it; her gaze drifted to his mouth. His lips parted, he bent his head, and—she gasped, recalling how she’d been in a similar position when he’d helped her escape from the wobbly bookcase in the general store.
“He’s what?” Ryan whispered.
“He’s . . . good.”
“Good?” Ryan asked and chuckled, a rich, glorious sound. He pulled his head back and gave the horse a pat on the rump. “I’d say he’s great. Top of the line.”
So are you. My, oh, my, but he was a charmer. No wonder the ladies clung to him wherever he went. All he had to do was give them one look with those big brown eyes, flash them that award-winning smile, and—poof! He got whatever he wanted.
But was this what she wanted? After her charming ex-boyfriend dumped her in New York? Her brother’s words shot through her thoughts. “In case plans go awry, always have an exit strategy.”
“Ryan Tanner,” she exclaimed, pushing him away. “Are you trying to charm me?”
He grinned. “What if I am? Is it helping you to relax?”
“Just the opposite,” she said truthfully.
His smile waned. “I thought if I charmed you, then you could work your charm with the horses . . . like you used to.”
So he had been manipulating her the whole time for his own benefit. Of course. She should have known better than to allow herself to think any different. Then she considered his words and realized he’d actually paid her a compliment.
“W-wait a minute,” she stammered. “You think I’m a charmer?”
“One of the best. I’ve seen you train.”
“Where?” She couldn’t remember seeing him at any of her past training sessions.
“At the fairgrounds, summer before senior year. You helped your competitor with the black and white colt?”
“Oh—I remember.” She stepped forward and poked a finger into his chest. “You came up to me and my friend with a girl on each arm and asked if I’d like to join you.”
He nodded, his expression innocent. “I was fascinated by what I saw that day and wanted to talk to you about the methods you used to bring the colt around.”
“Really?” She felt herself blush. “I thought . . . you wanted something else. And I said . . .” She hesitated as more heat rose into her cheeks. “I said, ‘Get lost, Tanner. Looks like you already have more women than limbs unless you grow a tail.’ ”
He grinned. “Yes, you did.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then said, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the mood to join your doting fan club.”
He grimaced. “I was hoping the other girls would get bored and leave so I could join yours. I’d have stayed all afternoon and watched you train if . . .”
“I hadn’t been so mean?” She smiled at him. “Why?”
“I’d never seen a horse respond to anyone that way before.” He looked her straight in the eye. “You’re the reason I became a horse trainer.”
She stared at him in silence for several long moments, unable to fathom how she could have thought him indifferent. He looked sincere, he sounded sincere, and she sincerely wanted to believe him with all her heart. Then she realized . . . he was trying to charm her again!
“You switched tactics,” she accused.
“Honesty does have its uses,” he admitted.
“Honesty?” She smiled and a certain calm stole over her. “I’ll have to try that.”
Especially since Luke’s advice to “lock up your emotion, block out everything except the mission at hand” didn’t seem to be working.
She went into the end stall to the tune of “a little love is all you need,” and sure enough, when she showed a genuine interest in the filly, the little horse responded by coming close and nuzzling her hand. Visions of Serenity still popped into her head, wrenching her heart, but by the end of the session, when Morning Glory playfully pulled the scarf from her neck again, she could honestly say they’d formed a bond.
And from the way Ryan’s eyes now sparkled when he looked at her? For better or for worse, she guessed she’d formed a bond with him, too.
“Yes, we’re making progress,” Ryan said, flashing her a grin as he talked to his aunt Mary on his cell phone. “Why don’t you come over here next week and see for yourself?”
Bree sucked in her breath. Next week? The filly had resp
onded, yes, but she still had a long way to go before she was trained for the upcoming halter show. Would Morning Glory know enough to make his aunt Mary happy?
THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, early on Saturday morning, Ryan swung Cody’s overnight bag into the back of the pickup.
“Do I have to go?” Cody complained. “I want to stay here and play with the new puppies.”
Ryan opened the door to the front of the cab so he could climb in. “C’mon, Cody. We’ve been over this. Your other grandparents want to spend time with you, too.”
“But why do I have to be away for the whole weekend?” he said, buckling his seat belt. “There’s nothing to do over there.”
Ryan closed his door, and walked around to the driver’s side. “The Owenses just opened their guest ranch for the new season so there will be lots of people, trail rides, campfires with marshmallows, and I’m sure they’ll have some new baby animals, too.”
Cody rolled his eyes. “I want to play with my own pups, Dad.”
Ryan gave him a sideways glance as he started the engine. “You know we aren’t going to be able to keep all six. I’ll let you keep one, but we’re going to have to find some good homes for the rest. Who knows? Maybe your grandparents would like one.”
“Oh, please can I keep two?” Cody pleaded. “One all by himself will be so lonely.”
“You still have Annabelle. The puppy can play with its mother.”
“It’s not the same as playing with a brother or sister,” Cody said with a frown. “Please can I keep two?”
Ryan took a right turn and drove onto the main road between their ranch and the Owenses’ and, for a brief moment, thought of Gail. He’d never wanted Cody to be an only child. He always imagined they’d have at least three. He studied his son’s face. Had he been talking about himself when he said just one pup would feel lonely?
“Okay,” he relented. “You can keep two.”
Cody grinned. “How about three?”
Ryan chuckled. “We’ll see.”
“Grandpa says he wants to teach me to box. Is it okay if I box?” Cody asked as the Owens ranch came into view in the distance.
“No.” Ryan clenched his jaw. “No boxing. You tell your grandpa I said so.”
“See?” Cody said, and let out a dramatic sigh. “No fun.”
“You’ve done enough fighting lately,” Ryan reminded him. “Right?”
“Yes, sir,” Cody replied, his tone sullen.
“Have you decided to give your grandma the Mother’s Day card you made in school?”
“No, I’m giving it to someone else.”
Ryan’s interest perked. “Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Bree.”
“What?” Ryan jumped up in his seat and held tight to the steering wheel so he wouldn’t swerve. “Why Bree?”
“She’s pretty.”
Ryan couldn’t argue with that. “Yes . . . she’s very pretty. But there are lots of pretty women in town. Why her?”
“Annabelle likes her. Don’t you like her?”
“Sure.” Liking Bree had never been a problem. “She’s fun and talented and likes horses. But Bree’s not here to stay.”
“She said she is.”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Cody turned to face him. “You think she’s a liar?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that I think after she’s here awhile . . . she’ll change her mind.”
Cody frowned. “Why?”
“She’s always had big plans to own her own business. Exciting plans. I don’t think she’ll find much exciting here. No matter what she says, I bet she’s gone before the end of summer.”
“What if she’s not? Will you believe her then?”
Ryan had to be honest with him—and himself. “No.”
“How long does she have to stay before you do believe her?”
His stomach tightened. “I don’t know.”
Of course, he should be happy his son wanted to interact with other women. But Bree? Anyone but her. She wasn’t family-oriented, stay-at-home mother material. So why was Cody championing her?
He groaned. This would make for all kinds of awkward the next time they met.
“You know, Bree’s birthday is coming up. Maybe you could leave the words ‘Mother’s Day’ off and give it to her as a birthday card.”
“That’s a great idea, Dad,” Cody said, and grinned. “Thanks.”
Ryan pulled into the Owenses’ driveway, and his gaze drifted to Bree’s guest ranch a half mile farther down the road. Collins Country Cabins was twice the size of Owens Hideaway, better equipped, and usually drew in twice the guests . . . and money. The Owens guest ranch was newer, but the property didn’t have room for expansion, and Merle and Olivia Owens lacked the ingenuity to make efficient use of the land they did have.
As he and Cody got out of the truck, Ryan could see a handful of guests in the corral preparing to go on a trail ride. Another couple, with expensive cameras dangling from their necks, looked at a map and pointed toward the mountain range forming a wall to the east. The hum of a motor grew louder, and after a couple of ranch hands drove by in a Gator loaded with hay, Ryan ushered his son toward the house.
“C’mon in, Cody,” Mrs. Owens called from the porch, holding the door open for him. “Wipe your feet. I have enough work to do without having to sweep up more dirt.”
“I’ll be back for him at four on Sunday,” Ryan informed her. “Is Merle around?”
“No, a few of our guests needed a ride from the airport and he volunteered to go pick them up. I don’t reckon he’ll be home for another hour.”
Ryan heaved a sigh. “He said he was done borrowing the attachment for the John Deere and I had hoped to use it on my own tractor this afternoon to replow one of our fields.”
“You can look in the barn,” she said, and then took Cody in and closed the door.
So much for a warm goodbye, Ryan thought. But the woman had never been known for pleasantries such as hello and goodbye. Maybe the lack of traditional Montana hospitality was another reason the Owens guest ranch had never succeeded as well as the Collins ranch.
Walking across the driveway, he headed into the barn and looked around. He knew Merle kept most of his larger tools close to the door on the right. Yep. There was the tiller attachment. Except Merle had left a shiny new wrench lying on top of it. Ryan picked up the wrench and was on his way to return it to the cubby where the smaller tools were kept in the back when a flash of white caught his eye. He turned his head to get a better look and saw several large white bags stacked in the corner.
Rock salt.
Chapter Six
“BREE! THE FIRST guests should be here any minute,” her mother called into the office. “Is the registration desk ready?”
“Yes, Ma.” She pulled the first week’s guest list up on the computer as her mother walked in and smoothed a crease out of one of the red-checked window curtains.
“Did you have time to try Grandma’s apple cobbler?”
Bree patted her stomach. “Sure did. I helped her dice up all the apples. The guests are going to love the cinnamon crumb topping and homemade whipped cream.”
“How about the keys to the cabins?” her mother persisted. “Did you attach them to the leather cowboy boot key chains we ordered?”
“Ma,” she said, giving her an even look. “Relax. I got this.”
“Of course you do, honey. You know it’s not that your father and I don’t trust you, but—” Her mom pointed out the window to the first cars rumbling up the driveway. “Ooh, here they come.”
Check-in time on Friday was two o’clock, and as the vehicles continued to pour into the parking lot, it seemed the majority of guests had decided to all arrive at once.
“My credit card was charged
twice,” one man informed her. “I received the statement from my bank right before we came.”
Bree checked the records. “No, that can’t be right. A month ago you gave a deposit for . . .” She glanced from her computer to the man’s bank statement and pressed her lips together. Those conniving ranch managers. She looked up at the man and smiled. “Sorry for the mistake. We can write the extra charge off your bill at the end of your stay.”
As soon as that problem was resolved, Nora bounced into the office with another. “I went to show the redheaded married couple their cabin, but there are three other women already in there.”
Bree’s stomach tightened. “Not Chelsea, Katelyn, and Rebecca, the three CEOs from Iridescent Beauty Cosmetics?”
“Yes!” Nora cried. “Those women. And they’ve already decorated.”
Bree frowned. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve hung up posters of hot, sexy cowboys on all the inside walls.”
What? Not the type of thing she’d expect from corporate execs, which made her question their ages . . . and their professionalism. Would these women prove to be the ranch-saving solution she hoped they’d be?
Bree scanned the register and checked the cabin numbers of each guest. They had four couples, three groups of hikers, two large families, one writer and—oh, no. One cabin had been double-booked by their previous ranch managers.
“What do we do?” Nora wailed. “The married couple started yelling and the three women started yelling back and—”
Bree shot out of her chair and headed toward the door. “Let me go down there and see what I can do.”
AS SHE HURRIED down the path to Cabin 12, her breath came so quick she hoped she wouldn’t hyperventilate. She’d promised her parents she could take on the duties of ranch manager. Even though she wasn’t responsible for the double booking, she was responsible for sorting out this mess. But they had only twenty-four available cabins and all of them were full, which reminded her they really needed to finish building the others and maybe even start building a few more.
Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler Page 9
