by A. J. Pine
“As long as you let me ride the trails, consider me paid,” Carter said.
Sam grabbed a straw cowboy hat off a bale of hay and tossed it on his head. “Have a nice ride, you two. Ace and Barbara Ann are all ready to go. You’re welcome to stop by the dining hall when you get back, but I’m guessing by the saddle pack that you might have things under control.”
Carter nodded. “Thanks for the offer all the same.”
Sam turned back to Ivy. “It was nice to officially meet you. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again sooner or later.” And with that he strode out of the stable.
Ivy stared after him as he left. And then she stared some more. If Carter were the jealous type, he’d be—well—jealous. But how could he envy a man who caught her attention when she was nothing more than a friend? Pretty easily, it turned out.
Carter cleared his throat. “Not that it matters, but if I were trying to properly court you, would I have just introduced you to my competition?”
She spun to face him, cheeks aflame. “What? No. I mean—competition for what?”
He laughed. “I’m just wondering—and this is only a hypothetical, because this is in no way a courting situation—if I’d have shot myself in the foot by introducing you to someone who not only doesn’t fight fires for a living but also must be pretty easy on the eyes for someone such as yourself.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and her blush deepened.
“I’ll admit that if anyone ever needed a visual display of what tall, dark, and handsome was supposed to be, it’s the cowboy who just strode out those stable doors. And he has a brother? My oh my,” she said, fanning herself.
He’d been teasing her initially, but now his confidence began to waiver.
“But,” she added, “there’s one big problem with all of that.”
Her tone encouraged him, so he took a step closer, even had the audacity to skim his fingers across her temple. “What’s the problem, darlin’?”
She blew out a breath. “It’s this other cowboy. One who, after barely knowing me, helped sober me up after a bad day and even made sure I got home safely. He also donates his free time to lead trail rides at a new ranch in town. And truth be told, I prefer something closer to a redhead than a brunette. In fact, if this particular cowboy didn’t risk his life for a living, I might very well be developing a little crush on him, which would make this a courting situation. But it’s not, correct?”
It wasn’t, as much as he wanted it to be. He’d thought about her the whole walk home last night, about what it would have been like to kiss her if she could only see him differently. Maybe that was what he hoped to accomplish by taking her out on the trail. All he knew was that sharing the view with ranch patrons earlier that day had been fun, but sharing it with Ivy would be something else. He hoped by the time they made it to the trail’s end he’d figure out what that something else was.
He dipped his head, his lips a breath away from her ear. She smelled like the lavender fields from the farm that bordered his granddaddy’s ranch, and he breathed her in, this intoxicating scent of home.
“No,” he whispered. “It’s not.” Because a new job in a new town was tough enough. He was being tested by the chief, his captain, and everyone in his company. If he lost focus and slipped up, then where would he go? But the real issue was her. If he lost focus while falling for someone who, in the end, couldn’t handle what he did for a living, then he wasn’t simply putting his career on the line but his heart, too. He understood that Ivy’s fear was based in reality, that she’d experienced a heartbreaking loss. And while he’d never push her into something she didn’t want, it was impossible to deny this thing between them.
“Courting you, Ivy, would eventually mean kissing you. And I’m not sure you could handle my kissin’.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“Because,” he said softly, “I’d leave your lips swollen and your brain so foggy you won’t remember your own name.” Yet he wouldn’t push her too far too fast. She had to choose him. Because despite bad timing and he being the type of guy she swore she’d avoid, a part of him had already chosen her.
She sucked in a breath, and it took every ounce of his resolve to straighten and take a step back when all he wanted to do was exactly what he’d said.
“Then I guess we’re on the same page,” she said, but he could hear the slight tremble in her voice. It matched his quickened pulse and the irregular beat of his heart.
He nodded. “I’ll just throw my pack on Ace’s saddle, and we’ll be good to go.” He glanced down at her boots. They weren’t riding boots, but they looked sturdy enough for a motorcycle, which meant they were sturdy enough for a horse.
His gaze trailed up her toned legs. He could see every curve of muscle, her round and perfect backside, in those form-fitting pants.
“See something you like?” she teased, having regained her composure.
Good lord did he ever.
How the heck was he supposed to read that? He wanted something other than friendship from her but only under the right circumstances. But after all her protesting—was Ivy flirting back?
“Just making sure you had proper boots for riding. Those will do,” he said coolly, doing his best to maintain control.
He got Ace ready to go, then introduced Ivy to Barbara Ann and helped her into the saddle. At least, he tried to help her, offering to give her a boost, but she stuck one foot in the mare’s stirrup and hoisted herself into the saddle like she’d done it every day of her life.
She shrugged and stroked the horse’s mane. “Guess it’s like riding a bike. You never really forget.” She pulled her sunglasses from the collar of her shirt, batted her big brown eyes at him, and then covered them up. “I’m just waiting on you, cowboy.”
He crossed his arms and stared up at her. “You want to take her for a lap or two in the arena before we hit the trail to make sure you’ve got the hang of it?”
“Sure,” she said. “Meet you out there.”
He stepped aside, and Ivy led Barbara Ann out of her stall and into the arena with ease.
He laughed and shook his head. She could make clothes, cut hair, put out her own fires, and hop onto the back of a horse like she grew up on a ranch herself. She also seemed to be able to make him forget that there was no room in his life for romance right now, especially with a woman who couldn’t support what he did for a living.
He strode to a shelf right inside the stable’s entrance and grabbed the cowboy hat he kept in there for his trail rides, then headed back to Ace’s stall and mounted his own trusty steed. When they trotted into the arena, Ivy and Barbara Ann were galloping around the track. Damn she looked good on the back of a horse. Maybe this was their common ground. Back in town she was a woman still grieving an incomparable loss, and he was the man who—by the simple nature of his profession—reminded her of it. Maybe out here on the ranch for one perfect evening they could just be Carter and Ivy.
She rounded a turn and pulled on Barbara Ann’s reins so she came to a halt beside him and Ace.
“Color me impressed, Ms. Serrano,” he said. “You’re a natural.”
She beamed. “That. Was. Amazing! I’ve never felt so—so—”
“Alive?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Free. Free of all the worry swirling around my head, you know? Will the shop do well? Will my own designs sell? And everything else that gets me all twisted up in knots.” She blew out a breath. “Thank you for bringing me here. I don’t know if you knew it was what I needed or not, but wow. This is the perfect end to a stressful opening weekend.”
“Now you know why I help Sam and the boys out for free. Ain’t nothing like being on top of a horse and leaving the rest of the world behind every now and then.” He nodded toward a gate on the other side of the arena and a path that eventually forked into three different directions. “You ready? We’re going to do the open trail to the right.”
&n
bsp; “Ready,” she said.
And they hit the trail.
* * *
How was it that Ivy had grown up in this town but had never seen these rolling green hills? It probably had something to do with there not having been a Meadow Valley Ranch or a stable full of horses until now. Maybe, though, the town wasn’t the only thing she was looking at from a different perspective.
She tugged gently on Barbara Ann’s reins and slowed to a stop a few yards behind where Carter was doing the same thing. When she’d met him yesterday, he was a walking, talking, embodiment of her biggest fear—losing someone she loved. But today he was this cowboy who gave her exactly what she’d needed at the end of a weekend that had started off on a very wrong foot.
He looked back at her over his shoulder and tipped his hat.
Her stomach flipped.
“Just a few paces ahead and we can tie off the horses. I brought snacks,” he called.
She nodded and followed him over the hill to where it leveled into a small clearing overlooking the ranch and beyond it the main street of town.
A short length of fence was set up—most likely by Sam Callahan and the other ranch owners—that seemed to be there for the sole purpose of making sure you could relax a while without your horse running off.
She hopped down into the overgrown grass and walked Barbara Ann to an open spot on the fence. Carter secured his horse while she did the same with hers. He removed the saddle pack and tossed it over his shoulder.
“Sam said the horses like this spot for grazing, and riders like it for gazing down at the town or up at the stars on a clear night, so I said we should call it Gaze ’n’ Graze Hill.”
She snorted. “That’s the corniest thing I ever heard—but at the same time also kind of cute.”
He shook his head. “There you go again with that word. Cute. Cute in my uniform. Cute the way I name a hill. I’ve heard the word so much in the past two days that I’m starting to wonder about that vocabulary of yours.”
He nodded in the direction away from the fence, then pivoted and headed that way without giving her time to come up with some sort of witty retort.
“I have a very good vocabulary, I’ll have you know,” she said when she caught up to him, then rolled her eyes at her less-than-formidable response. She’d never had to work to impress when it came to wordplay, but Carter Bowen threw her off her game. He made her tongue-tied and nervous and anxious to lob witty comebacks without a second thought. She had the undeniable urge to show him how much of her there was to like because—ugh—she was really starting to like him.
Where would that get her, though? She didn’t want to think about that, not when she was up here, able to let go of the fear, even if it was only for a short while.
He laid the pack on the ground and unzipped one of three compartments, pulling out a blue-and-white-checked picnic blanket.
“Here,” she said, motioning to take it, since he was kneeling. “I can do that.”
He relinquished the blanket, and she shook it out, spreading it over the grass.
Next he opened a plastic container filled with sliced apples and another with what looked like warm, grilled sandwiches.
“Damn,” he said. “I didn’t think to ask. You don’t have a peanut allergy, do you?”
She sat down across from him and shook her head. “Carter Bowen, did you make me peanut butter and jelly?” she asked with a grin.
“No, ma’am. Pearl did. You know Pearl at the Meadow Valley Inn?”
Ivy gasped. “Did you bring me Pearl’s grilled PB and J with brie? Because if you did, I just might have to kiss you.” Her hand flew over her mouth. “I meant because of how much I love that sandwich, not because—” She greedily grabbed one of the sandwich halves from the container and tore off a healthy bite. Anything to keep her from saying more incriminating statements about kissing. “Mmm. Delicious,” she said around her mouthful of food.
Carter laughed and dropped back onto his ass—the ass she’d had her eye on for much of the trail ride. It wasn’t like she had a choice. He led the way. And if she was searching her limited vocabulary for a way to describe the view, it was a long way from cute.
He handed her a thermos of Pearl’s equally delicious raspberry iced tea, then picked up his own half a sandwich from the container and took a bite. He unscrewed the lid from his own tea and took a couple of long swigs.
“You know,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, “you don’t have to be embarrassed about wanting to kiss me. Hell, you don’t even have to use my great-aunt’s cooking as an excuse for wanting to do it.”
Her eyes widened, and she stopped herself in the middle of taking another bite. “Pearl? Pearl Sweeney is your great-aunt?”
He held his index finger to his lips.
“She is, though I’d appreciate you keeping that between us for right now. When she heard the chief might be looking to hire from the outside, she passed him my name. That was it. Her only involvement. I got the job on my own merits. I know I’m good at what I do. But I’m an uninvited guest right now, so until I prove myself to the company—which I know I will—I don’t want to give anyone reason to doubt my abilities.”
She lowered her sandwich onto the lid of the container. “But Jessie, Wyatt, and Shane seemed to respect you just fine when you answered my nonemergency alarm.”
He laughed, but the smile looked forced. “That’s because I’d just written them up for insubordination before we left the station.”
“What? Why?” That didn’t sound like either of them.
He shrugged. “Because when they saw where the call was coming from, they argued with me about suiting up and taking the truck. ‘It’s Ivy’s place. That girl knows more about fire than we do. By the time we get there, there’ll be nothing left to do but paperwork.’”
Ivy winced because they were right about her. But Carter was in the right as their superior. “You did everything by the book like you were supposed to. I get it. No one should take shortcuts in a possible life-or-death situation.”
He set his sandwich down and leaned back on his elbows, his long legs stretching out in front of him. His cowboy hat cast a shadow over his eyes. “Anyway,” he said. “You can see why I don’t want anyone claiming favoritism.”
She moved the food out of the way and stretched out next to him on her side. The sun was low enough that she didn’t need her sunglasses anymore, so she took them off and tossed them toward her feet. “Why’d you tell me all that, then? Aren’t you afraid I’ll spill the beans? For all you know, I’m the town gossip.”
“Nah,” he said. “I know the type, and you’re not it. Besides, I needed to tell someone. Figured I couldn’t do much worse than you.”
She scoffed and backhanded him on the shoulder. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult. But judging from the sound of your voice, I’m guessing it’s the latter.”
He rolled onto his side to face her, but the hat was still obscuring his eyes. So she grabbed it and tossed it the same way she did her sunglasses.
“There,” she said. “Now I can see those baby blues.”
“Are they cute?” he asked.
Something in the pit of her belly tightened, and she shook her head.
“Then what?” he asked, his eyes darkening with the same mischief to match his tone.
“Okay,” she said. “Before then what? I need to ask you something, Mr. Bowen.”
“Go ahead, darlin’.”
She blew out a breath. “There’s something about being up here with you, away from everything at the bottom of the hill. It’s like I can forget what happens down there, you know? Like nothing matters except for what’s up here.”
“The Gazin’ and Grazin’ Hill,” he said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes but laughed. “There’s something between us, right? I mean, you brought me here with Pearl’s best sandwich and—and I’m not imagining any of it, am I?”
“No,” he said sim
ply. “I can’t be with a woman who doesn’t support what I do. So I know my wooing is going to waste, even if I keep saying that’s not what this is. But I can’t seem to help myself. Guess I was hoping I’d be able to change your perspective.”
“I support what you do,” she said. “But I just can’t put my heart out there like that. You have to understand.” She paused and took a steadying breath. “Wait. No, this isn’t where this was supposed to be going. What I meant to say is that maybe up here, for today, I can forget what’s down there. We both can.” She propped herself up and squinted over the top of the hill.
“If I say yes, that I’d like the same thing,” he said, “then I get to hear what else is in that vocabulary of yours?”
She lowered herself so she was facing him again and nodded. “You’d get to hear me say how sexy your butt looks in those jeans.”
He laughed. “And here I thought we were talking about my eyes.”
“Those are pretty sexy, too.” She grinned. “I might even find you a little bit charming.”
He trailed his fingers down the bare skin of her arm. “Darlin’, I find you to be too many things to list.”
She batted her lashes, and he laughed again. “Why don’t you try,” she said.
“Hmm, I should get comfortable. This’ll take a minute or two.” He rolled onto his back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Smart. Beautiful. A competent rider—”
“I like where this is headed,” she interrupted. “Feel free to continue.”
“A passion for what you do. Oh, can’t forget terrible taste in liquor.”
“Hey,” she said. “I thought you were supposed to be complimenting me.”
He raised his brows. “I said there was too much to list to describe you. Never said it was all complimentary.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “And…headstrong.” He held up his hands like he was waiting for some sort of physical retribution, but she simply sat up, crossed her arms, and glared.
It was easier to find a reason to be indignant than to admit to herself how much she liked hearing what he was saying—complimentary or not. Because even his ribbing meant he’d noticed her. He’d paid attention to her. And he’d thought about her as much as she’d thought about him since their walk last night.
