by Skylar Hill
That she wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her.
He said her name, it almost sprouted unbidden from his lips, like he had to say something. Her pink tongue darted out, licking her lower lip nervously.
He wanted to grab her and haul her onto Remus’s back with him and gallop away like a knight of old. He wanted to lean forward and cup the back of her head and bring her lips to his. He wanted her, all of her.
But he knew better. God, he knew better. He steeled himself.
He may want all of her, but he couldn’t. Because making that move, crossing that line meant risking the pieces of her he had in his life now. And maybe it was cowardly and maybe it was selfish, but he wasn’t sure he could bear his life without any of Nat in his life and crossing their line, ruining their friendship… it wasn’t worth it.
Not when he knew it was doomed from the start.
You aren’t compatible, he told himself, forcing himself to look away from her. Remus took that moment to nudge at her knee with his nose, and it made her laugh, thankfully breaking the heated moment.
“He likes you,” he said.
“You’ve got new horses,” she said, gesturing out at the pasture at the new group.
“Yeah,” he said. “Most of them are from a slaughterhouse in Colorado.”
“They adjusting well?” she asked.
“Mostly,” he said. “They’re mingling with my old guard already. Goliath’s keeping them in line mostly. But that one,” he pointed at the white stallion with spots on his flank in the corner of the pasture. “Is giving me some trouble. He’s really skittish.”
She looked over to the horse, her eyes sparking with interest.
“Nat,” he said warningly, knowing that look all too well. “He’s unpredictable.”
Of course, that made her look even more interested. He should’ve known better. He knew she used to ride broncs as a teen. Fucking daredevil. Even he hadn’t been allowed to do that, his overprotective father trying to guide him toward more citified pursuits, like running the family business. “I’m just gonna say hi,” she said, hopping off the fence and plucking the bag of carrots from his saddle horn before he could stop her.
Five
Rhett
“If you get bitten, don’t blame me,” he called, and then immediately dismounted, because if she did get hurt, he’d lose his mind. He tied Remus to the fence and followed her at a bit of distance, not wanting to spook the horse any more.
“Does he have a name yet?” she asked.
“Ghost,” Rhett said. “Don’t look at me,” he said when she raised an eyebrow at him. “I let the juvie kids name them.”
“They’re still coming out here to work with the horses?”
He nodded as they slowed, having reached the far corner of the pasture. Ghost whickered softly at their approach, his eyes widening.
“It’s okay, boy,” Nat said. Ghost danced backwards, unsure that he liked this human coming toward him. Instead of approaching him directly, Nat strolled in a wide circle, coming up to the fence with her back to the horse.
Ghost’s ears twitched as she took a carrot out of the bag and snapped it in half. She clicked her tongue, and the horse trotted forward, nosing at her shoulders and then her hand, searching for the carrot.
Rhett watched as Ghost smeared Nat with horsey kisses as she fed him the carrots, and by the time the sun had started to rise in the sky, Ghost wasn’t dancing away at every sound. He still darted backward when Nat tried to lay her hand on his neck, but came back for more carrots after a few minutes.
“Poor thing,” she said, gesturing to the big scars that were crisscrossing Ghost’s flank. “What do you think happened?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I kind of don’t want to think about it. Or I might try to find whoever did it to him and teach them a lesson.”
“A tempting thought,” Nat said.
“It’s disgusting, hurting a creature like this,” Rhett said, looking at Ghost, who was nudging Nat’s now-empty pockets in interest. “Hurting any creature… Look at him,” he added. “He was just hours away from slaughter. You should’ve seen how skinny he was when we got him.”
“But now you have him,” she said reassuringly, reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing it. “He’s safe.”
He smiled and said, “Come on,” tugging at her hand. “Have you had breakfast yet? Henry’s doing these crepe breakfasts lately that are getting raves.”
“Ooh, that sounds great,” Nat said. “I wanted to say hi to Molly while I’m here, too. I barely got to talk to her at the wedding, there were so many young men swarming around her.”
“According to Molly, she doesn’t want anything to do with them,” Rhett said and when she chuckled, he frowned. “What?”
“Well, of course, that’s what she tells you,” she said as she climbed back over the fence and landed on the other side. Rhett tried not to notice how everything kind of just bounced in the most amazing way as she did so, but who was he kidding, he totally noticed. “You’re her big, bad, mountain-man Uncle. I would say out of all her uncles and male relatives, you are the scariest.”
“Me?” he asked, batting his eyes, making her shoot him a withering look.
“No way a smart young woman like Molly is going to tell you who she’s actually crushing on,” Nat said smugly. “Not unless she wants you to show up, cleaning your shotgun on her porch when he comes to pick her up.”
“Considering Heath had her enrolled in Krav Maga classes from age ten on, I think Molly doesn’t need much protecting from me,” he said, and for some reason, that made her smile at him. “What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “You just…” she half-sighed, half-chuckled. “You’re a caveman until you’re not. It’s a good trait.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. He nodded to Remus, still tied to the fence. “You want a ride back to the lodge?” he asked, even though it would be a special kind of hell to have her all snug up behind him on a horse.
“I’m gonna actually take a hike near the river before I eat breakfast,” Nat said. “I’ve got a massage with Marie booked this afternoon, and I want to soak in the hot springs after. Want to do dinner? This is my last night before I head back to the city.”
“Sounds good. Just come and get me in my lodge office when you’re ready to eat,” he said, swinging back up onto Remus, trying hard not to think of Nat reclining in one of their special, extra-large, extra-deep clawfoot tubs that were filled with the healing mineral springs that ran beneath the mountain.
He waited until she had wandered off, out of sight, into the forest and all its secret paths. He knew not to be worried about her; she’d wandered around River Run enough to know her way. It filled him with a pleasure and satisfaction that he didn’t quite understand that she knew this place and its secret paths, that she understood why he loved it, why he put all of himself into it.
Once she was out of sight, he rode back to the stables and rubbed Remus down before letting him loose in the pasture with his friends. Charming was lying in the field with the horses, watching them, along with their Australian shepherd, Zara, who was much smaller, but had a fiercer attitude than Charming’s laid-back Great Pyrenees style.
There were four working dogs on the property on total: Charming stuck to the horses, sleeping in the barn with them, but Zara was all about her goats except when she visited her dog friends. Stark and Lanny, the other two Great Pyrs on the property, liked to stick close to the clinic and the animals that were kept in the smaller wildlife area. They’d wander out to the horse pasture to visit with Charming and Zara, but they were older and lazy, content to wallow with the pigs and make sure the chickens and possums were keeping out of trouble.
Rhett was starving by the time he hung up Remus’s saddle and made his way back to the lodge. Guests were starting to arrive, check-in was at ten, and the lodge had been shut for three days while they threw Carter and Maddy’s wedding. He hel
ped an older woman with her suitcase up the porch stairs, waving her off with a smile and an explanation that he was the owner when she tried to tip him.
“This the first of the check-ins?” he asked Jessica, the lodge manager.
She nodded. “I have about a dozen wedding guests who are staying one extra night, but almost everyone else will be checking out today at noon. I’ve got staff ready to turn over those rooms ASAP, and by Thursday, we’ll be fully booked again.”
“Good,” he said. “You and the staff did a great job this weekend with the wedding, Jess. I really appreciate all your hard work.”
She smiled. “It was beautiful. And Ms. Munroe is so amazing, I honestly was kind of star struck, working with her. She’s kind of a legend.”
“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said. “I’m gonna head into my office to catch up on some email if anyone’s looking for me.”
“Sure, your nine o’clock is already waiting for you,” Jess said.
He frowned. “I don’t have a nine o’clock,” he said.
Her blue eyes widened. ‘Oh crap. Um. Mr. Durbin, your new neighbor, said he had an appointment with you. I let him go back.”
His frown deepened. The O’Reilly farm to the west side of River Run was pretty small, he had thought about buying it when the O’Reillys put it on the market, but the farmland wasn’t as suited for his purposes as he had hoped, so he’d let the option go. He’d noticed the FOR SALE sign had disappeared about a month ago, but hadn’t put much thought into it.
“I’ll go talk with him,” he assured Jess. “No worries. He’s probably just coming by to introduce himself.”
She smiled, her attention turning to a guest who was arriving, and he let her go, hurrying down the hall to his office, feeling a little apprehensive.
The lodge was rustic and warm, built out and expanded from the original one his grandfather built with his own two hands in the forties. The décor was mainly blues and greens, really Rhett’s only contribution to the decorating of the place—that was definitely not his strong point. Luckily, the designer who had done his barn refurbishment had been available to do all of River Run, and as a result, every cabin and room in the lodge and every building on the property felt warm and cozy, like a home away from home.
Which is maybe why it rankled him a little to open his door and find some guy sitting in one of the leather chairs in his office, legs outstretched, his brand-new cowboy boots resting on Rhett’s desk.
Rhett closed the door a little hard, letting the click resound through the room, making the guy jump a little and look over his shoulder.
“Hi,” the man said, getting to his feet. “Timothy Durbin. Your new neighbor.”
Rhett took it, shaking it briefly and then letting go. “Rhett Oakes,” he said, walking over to sit behind his desk. “I hear you bought the O’Reilly place.”
“Now the Durbin place,” Timothy said with a slick smile that made the hairs on Rhett’s arms rise. Instantly, he didn’t like this guy.
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” Rhett said, trying to push down the unsettled feeling rising in his chest. “I know a place like River Run is a little unusual in this neck of the woods, which is mainly residences and small farms, but you won’t even know we’re here most of the time. If you’re worried about noise or anything like that, I can assure you, we get mostly nature lovers and families out here, hiking, enjoying the wilderness, interacting with the animals at our wildlife refuge. We do throw larger events, but I keep all my neighbors in the loop. There’s an email chain that my manager maintains that I’d be happy to add you to.”
“That all sounds great,” Timothy said, smiling with too much teeth. “It’s a sweet little place you’ve got here” The condescension was ripe in the air, it rankled Rhett, getting his hackles up. “It seems like you’ve got a good thing going.” He sighed. “I really hate doing this,” he said. “But business is business.”
He flipped open a folder and pushed it across the desk at Rhett, who picked it up, frowning. It was a county document about a water easement. He turned the page, scanned the document, and realized that the coordinates and the simple map was he chunk of River Run where the hot springs were.
“This is the water easement from 1930,” he said. “That’s my grandfather’s signature.” He looked up expectantly, waiting for Durbin to explain.
“Part of the hot springs is on my property,” Durbin said. “Including those old holding tanks that look like big wine barrels up on my hill.”
Rhett nodded. “The holding tanks are ancient. We haven’t used them seriously in years. Part of the easement is maintaining them, so I do. Is there a problem with them? I’m happy to go up there and take a look.”
“It’s not a problem with the tanks,” Durbin said. “It’s a problem with the water rights.”
Rhett raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand, Mr. Durbin,” he said. “You hand me a document asserting my legal claim on the water rights on my property and then tell me there’s a problem with the rights?”
“There’s a problem with the rights because you can’t legally hold them,” Durbin said.
“Excuse me?” Rhett asked, a flash of anger going through him. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? “I’m the legal owner of all thousand acres of River Run—including those hot springs and those tanks that happen to be on your property. I have legal rights to all of them.”
“You don’t,” Durbin said. “Because of Statute 3.b in Code 343 of the Oregon Water Right’s amendment regarding natural water resources, including hot springs.”
Rhett’s fingers clenched around the paper. “Mr. Durbin,” he said, his voice sharpening as he stared down the man from across his desk. “You don’t know me, so I’m going to be blunt with you: dragging shit out, playing games? Doesn’t work with me. So tell me the exact problem here. And then I will solve it.”
Durbin smiled, and it was that slick, slimy smile that made Rhett’s stomach tighten. This guy was a player. Someone who was used to getting his way through wheeling, dealing, and intimidation.
“It’s very simple, Oakes. Statute 3.b states that an unmarried man cannot legally hold this kind of water rights. If the easement passes to an unmarried man via inheritance, as it did in your case, then the rights will revert back to the property owner. Because about a quarter of the hot springs are technically on my property, that means the rights are mine. Which means I’m going to need you to stop all this,” he gestured around the office. “The little bath house spa you’ve got going on. Whatever other facilities are fed from the springs. Legally, Oakes, that isn’t your water anymore.”
Rhett thought about what his father would do in this instance. And then he decided to do the exact opposite.
“I see,” he said, getting to his feet. “Well, thank you for alerting me to such a large legal loophole. You must’ve been searching hard for weeks to find one.”
Durbin’s smile drooped. It was clearly not the reaction he was looking for.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Rhett went on, “I’ve got an appointment. I appreciate you stopping by.”
Durbin rose to his feet, looking baffled, his overgrown eyebrows scrunched together. “What are we going to do about this?” he demanded. “You can’t use that water!”
“So you’ve informed me,” Rhett said. “Now let me do some informing of my own.” He loomed over the man, glowering, his voice a deadly growl. “Around here, we tend to settle things three ways: fists, guns, or lawyers. Now, you clearly couldn’t take me in a fight, and you don’t look like the shootin’ type, so you’ve opted for lawyers. It makes sense. You heard the stories… right? About the mountain man veterinarian who takes in all the strays and half-dead roadkill. You thought, that’s an easy mark. I’ll confuse him with all the legalese, panic him about shutting down his place, and get a chunk of change or make him sign something damning.”
Durbin gaped at him like a fish. This close, Rhett could see how sweaty his skin was, a
sheen of oil slicking across his forehead.
“Do me a favor, Durbin,” Rhett said, a sharp smile playing across his lips. He reached over and grabbed a business card out of his desk drawer and handed it to Durbin. “Give my lawyer a call. Ask him what happened to the last person who tried to mess with my property. It’s a good story. Might make you piss your pants in fear, but fear’s good for character growth. Now get the fuck out of my office.”
Six
Nat
Fifteen minutes into her hike, Nat’s bootlace snapped, so she headed back to her room to fix it. As she hit the lodge’s inviting lobby, her stomach grumbled.
Maybe I should ditch the hike and go for those crepes Rhett mentioned.
As she turned the corner, intent on going to Rhett’s office to see if he wanted to get crepes with her before her massage, she ran smack dab into someone.
“Sorry!” she said, stumbling a little. She winced a little when she felt sweaty hands close around her arms, steadying her, and pulled away from the man, smiling politely. “Sorry about that,” she repeated. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Oh sweetie, you can bump into me any time,” said the man, and the tone made it clear it was more of an overture and less of a cheesy, good-natured joke.
Instantly, her armor went up. She kept her polite mask on, but inside her alarm bells were ringing.
“I make it a habit not to bump into people,” she said blandly. “Excuse me.”
“Where are you going so fast, beautiful?” he asked, touching her arm again.
She glanced down at his hand on her, feeling even more disgusted when she saw the wedding ring on his finger. Slimeball, she thought.
“Durbin!” She jumped a little at the deep voice cutting through the lobby like a knife. Rhett never raised his voice. He was the definition of cool, calm, and collected. But he was stalking toward them from his office, his handsome face a storm of emotion. She took the man’s distraction to shake herself free and put as much distance as she could between them without flat-out running off.
