by Stacy Finz
But if he had, he probably wouldn’t be going out of his way to pass by her place, would he? When he’d decided on Nugget for his cowboy camp, he’d known it was a possibility that they’d run into each other. Actually, more than a possibility, since even with the weekender population, the town had fewer than six thousand people. With only one grocery store, one gas station, and one sit-down restaurant, they were bound to bump. This time, though, it would be different. He was no longer the housekeeper’s ragamuffin son.
Nope, Lucky Rodriguez had more money and silver buckles than any cowboy in the PBR. This time it would be Raylene who was down on her luck. Again, he tried, but still couldn’t drudge up any satisfaction at her misfortune.
He drove along an irrigation ditch until the road zigzagged under the highway and along the Feather River. When the Rock and River’s big wrought-iron gate came into view, Lucky pulled over in a turnout on the other side of the road and turned off the ignition. He didn’t know what he hoped to see. The ranch house was too far back to catch a glimpse of Raylene, unless she happened to be riding along the fence line or getting the mail.
Lucky felt like a stalker sitting there, yet he couldn’t seem to make himself pull away. Ten years was a long time to hold a torch for a woman. Especially a woman who hadn’t wanted what he’d had to offer. Since then, there had been plenty of others—buckle bunnies, even a few non-rodeo types. But Raylene had never been far from his mind.
He started his truck and nosed out onto the road. Work at the camp wasn’t going to get done by itself. To open by summer, he needed to bust a move. The meeting with Nate Breyer and Sam Dunsbury had gone well, he thought. Now, there were two people who had the hots for each other. For all Lucky knew they were an official couple. But that wasn’t the vibe he got at the meeting. He detected something his mama would’ve called “a lot of pussyfooting around.” One thing he knew, every time he looked at Sam, he got a death glare from Nate. Lucky laughed. Poor, lovesick fools.
When he got back to the old Roland property, Clay McCreedy was waiting, leaning against his truck. Clay had been six years ahead of him in school, but everyone in Nugget knew and liked the McCreedys. Tip McCreedy used to hire Lucky to wrangle during branding season. Best boss Lucky ever had. Tough as nails, but generous to a fault.
“Howdy, stranger.” Clay shielded his eyes from the sun.
Lucky joined him at his Ford and both men sat on the tailgate. “Long time, no see.”
“Too long,” Clay said. “So what’s this I hear about you opening a dude ranch?”
Lucky let out a puff of air. The dude ranch rumor had gotten way out of control. “It’s a cowboy camp.”
Clay tried to stifle a grin. “Yeah, that’s what I said, a dude ranch.”
“Nah, man, it’s totally different.”
“Oh?” Clay’s brows hitched. “How’s that?”
Lucky launched into his rigmarole and damned if Clay didn’t laugh.
“You can call it whatever you want,” Clay said. “But it sounds like a good idea to me.”
“Yeah?” He was sort of surprised at Clay’s endorsement. The cattleman was the real deal and one of the largest beef producers in the state, not to mention a decorated navy pilot who’d fought in Afghanistan and Iraq.
“The town could use the business,” Clay said. “The Lumber Baron and the Ponderosa have certainly helped, but the Roland camp was going to waste sitting empty like that. It’s nice what you’re doing—teaching people about our way of life and preserving the cowboy traditions.”
Lucky hadn’t thought about the cowboy camp that way. At twenty-nine, his bull riding days were nearly past him and he’d needed to come up with a new game plan. He might’ve been able to become an announcer, like Ty Murray. But the plan had always been to come home. Back to Nugget. At first, he’d just wanted to raise rodeo stock. But he’d always loved the camp, which had been used by churches, schools, and other large groups for retreats, and it seemed a shame not to take advantage of the infrastructure, including the big lodge.
“I’m talking with the folks from the Lumber Baron about working a crossover deal,” Lucky said. “If you’ve got any pull with them, I’d appreciate a good word. That Nate fellow seems a mite cautious.”
“That Nate fellow owns nine other big hotels in San Francisco.” Clay smiled. “I suspect his being a mite cautious made him successful. But, yeah, I’ll put in a good word for you. The co-owner, Maddy, is married to Rhys Shepard.”
“No kiddin’.” Lucky had a faint memory of Rhys, but like Clay, he was older. And a troublemaker, if Lucky recalled right. “He’s the police chief, huh?”
“Yep. Best one we’ve ever had. Very protective of that wife of his, so don’t rub him the wrong way.” How Lucky had earned the reputation as a womanizer, he’d never know. “When’s your stock coming?”
“As soon as I get corrals built and fences mended. Hopefully next month.”
“How’s your ma doing?”
Lucky grinned. Maybe he was a cowboy cliché, but he loved his mama. The woman had raised him right—and on her own. “She’s real good. Thanks for asking.”
“She sure is proud of that big house you bought her.”
Lucky would’ve bought her a castle if she’d wanted one, but Cecilia had been content with a rambling one-story in a nice part of town. She’d never have to work another day in her life. “She wants to help out with the cowboy camp. Nothing too rigorous, but it will be a hoot to have her around.”
“I’ll tell you what, if you need two extra ranch hands, I’ll send my boys over. They’re not doing summer camp this year and I don’t like them sitting on the couch playing video games.”
“Hey, I’ll take ’em whenever you don’t need them.”
“Good catching up with you.” Clay slapped him on the back. “But I better get back.”
The two of them hopped off the tailgate and Clay slammed it shut. Lucky’s crew looked like they were packing up for the day. Maybe he’d head into town later and try out the new Ponderosa. Well, new to him. Before he’d left Nugget, the place had been a dive. Bad food and bowling lanes that never worked. From what he’d heard, the latest owners had fixed it up real good.
Clay climbed into his truck and rolled down his window. “I forgot the reason why I came. I wanted to invite you to my wedding.” He grinned, and Lucky saw a man in love. “Your ma’s coming, get the details from her.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks for the invite.”
Lucky watched Clay motor down the driveway, kicking up dust with his big tires. A wedding, huh? He scratched his chin and wondered if Raylene would be there.
Nate spent an hour at Sophie and Mariah’s getting face time with Lilly. Now she could roll over, and Nate liked watching her tirelessly kick her chubby legs. She also seemed to know him; perhaps she recognized his smell or could decipher the shape of his face or maybe she just innately felt the paternal connection.
Nate felt so filled with the bond that it often clogged his throat and expanded his chest so wide that he thought his heart would burst.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Sophie watched her daughter swat at the figures on the mobile that hung above her crib. He’d never seen Sophie’s face so filled with awe and love.
“She is,” Nate said.
“Thank you, Nate. Thank you for enabling Mariah and me to have this precious gift.”
He nodded, not knowing what to say. You’re welcome seemed feeble. “I’ve got to go.”
“You just got here,” Sophie said.
“Maddy invited me for dinner. You want to come?” Mariah had Ponderosa duty. “We’ll pack up the kid and head out.”
“Thanks, but I’m looking forward to a quiet evening in. Maybe this one”—she nudged her head at Lilly—“will sleep.”
“Good luck with that.” He chuckled.
“I heard you met with our resident celebrity bull rider. How did that go?”
“All right. I don’t know the guy, but if he
pulls off this cowboy camp operation, it could be good for business. All our businesses.”
“That’s what I’m thinking too. He’s got a big name, and I suppose that will attract people.”
“Could be. I just don’t know what kind of businessman he is. Time will tell.”
“I suppose it will,” she said. “Anything going on in the Sam department?”
“Like what?” Nate wondered if she’d heard about the kiss. All it would’ve taken is for Sam to tell one person for it to be telegraphed throughout the entire town.
“I don’t know, like maybe you asked her out on a date.”
“Good night, Soph.” He kissed her on the cheek, grabbed his jacket off Lilly’s rocking chair, and headed for the door.
When Nate pulled up in front of Maddy and Rhys’s white Victorian, a mini replica of the Lumber Baron, Samuel and Clay’s youngest were playing basketball in the yard. A dog Nate didn’t recognize chased the two up and down the court, nipping at their Warriors jerseys. Nate had given the shirts to the boys for Christmas.
The whole scene reminded him of a portrait of the American family and it gave him a sudden pang of longing. Since Kayla, he’d given up on the notion of the house, the station wagon, and the two-point-five kids. Being a bachelor, having lots of women to choose from and the freedom to do whatever he wanted, suited him fine. Perhaps Lilly had changed Nate’s perspective. But hopefully it was temporary. Just a phase. Because there was no nuclear family in his future.
“Hey.” Rhys waved to him from the porch. “Want a beer?”
His brother-in-law still had on his sidearm, which meant he’d just gotten home from work. He disappeared behind the front door. By the time Nate made it to the porch, Rhys tossed him a cold one.
“Give me a couple of minutes to change,” Rhys said, and flipped his chin at the porch. “It’s a nice evening. I’ll meet you out here. Maddy’s trying to put Emma down.”
He returned a short time later, and the two of them sat in the rockers, watching the boys play. The sun set, painting reds and blues and purples over the Sierra. The smell of fresh-cut hay from McCreedy Ranch filled the air.
“What’s going on at the inn?” Rhys moved his chair closer to the porch railing so that he could use it as a footrest.
“I met with the bull rider today about his cowboy camp. Looks like we might work out a co–business venture.”
“Sounds good,” Rhys said. “I haven’t seen him for years, but Lucky was a good kid. Hard worker. His mom was the housekeeper at the Rock and River Ranch. He used to pick up work there and at a few of the other ranches in the area to help provide for his family. Cecilia was a single mom. Good person, always nice to me and Shep.”
Shep, Rhys’s late father, had been the town’s resident asshole. Rhys had never gotten along with him, but they’d somewhat reconciled before he died of complications from Alzheimer’s disease last summer.
“You still think Sam Dunsbury is leaving?” Rhys wanted to know.
“Not yet.” Not while she tried to assert her independence from her father. But when that pissing match was over, who knew? “She may well double our revenue this summer from last, with all the events she’s booking. That’s where the money is for a small inn like the Lumber Baron.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but Maddy thinks the woman is on fire. She says the guests love her.”
Of course they did. She was poised, conscientious, and looked like a million bucks. “She’s got an aptitude for the job. I’m not saying she doesn’t. But, Rhys, she makes more in stock dividends in a day than we pay her in three months.”
“Nate, not everyone chooses a career based on money. If that were the case, I’d be back at Houston P.D., making six figures. It’s about the passion. Look at Griffin Parks. He’s rich and I’ve never seen a person work harder.”
Griffin had recently come into his money. He was part Wigluk Indian and was entitled to proceeds from the tribe’s various ventures, including the largest gaming casino in California. He’d immediately reinvested some of that money into Sierra Heights and the Nugget Gas and Go.
“Maybe,” Nate said. Still, he thought Sam would get bored. That was the thing about independently wealthy people; they could afford to get bored. “When’s Lina coming home?” He wanted to change the subject.
“She’s got an internship this summer in San Francisco.” Rhys’s sister went to USF. “So we won’t be seeing much of her, unfortunately. I was hoping you’d look out for her.”
“As much as I’m back there, you know I will. She renting an apartment or staying on campus?”
Rhys, who in Nate’s opinion was overly protective of Lina, let out a sigh. “She’s subletting with five other kids in some nasty neighborhood.”
“She’ll be fine.” Nate remembered with fondness his undergrad days when he and his buddies had rented a small home and turned it into party central.
Maddy came out the door, holding the phone, her brows creased in worry. “It’s Connie. Sam just reported a break-in at her house. Her alarm is going off and she’s afraid to go inside.”
Rhys tugged the phone out of Maddy’s hand. “Connie, you have Sam on the other line? . . . Good. Tell her to wait in her locked car. I’m on my way.”
Nate didn’t wait for an invitation, just headed straight for Rhys’s police SUV. “Come on! Let’s go.”
Rhys ignored him, went inside the house, and returned with his belt half off so he could strap on his gun holster. “It’s against department policy for you to ride with me.”
“Give me a break,” Nate said.
Rhys shook his head and unlocked the passenger side of the vehicle. “When we get there, stay in the truck. You hear?”
Nate didn’t answer. Rhys got behind the wheel and turned on the siren. It was probably just kids, Nate told himself. Before Griff bought the development, bored teenagers, including Clay’s oldest son, had vandalized one of the houses. Nate’s biggest fear was that Sam hadn’t listened to Connie and had gone in, alone. Even teenagers could turn mean to keep from getting caught. The thought of her getting hurt . . .
But when they arrived in her driveway, Sam was sitting safe in her car. Good girl. Jake Stryker, Rhys’s most experienced officer, was already there. Rhys reiterated his original order, adding a commanding glare for good measure, as he got out of the SUV. Nate waited just until Rhys had rounded the back of the house, gun drawn, before jumping out.
Sam’s house alarm screamed like an air-raid siren. All the houses in Sierra Heights had them. Nate never turned his on.
Sam opened the door of her car and got out. “Were you with Rhys when the call came in?”
“Yeah. You okay?” He looked her over. She still wore her work clothes and he wondered where she’d been, since it was well after Lumber Baron hours.
“I’m fine. You think whoever broke in is still in there?”
“Probably not.” Nate figured the alarm would’ve sent them running. The question was, how much did the intruders make off with before they’d left? Sam had expensive things. “How long has the alarm been going off?”
“The company called me just as I pulled up. We both called the police.”
“You didn’t see anyone run out?” Obviously she hadn’t or she would’ve said.
“No. But they could’ve gone out the back way.” It wasn’t quite dark yet, but someone could’ve gone undetected by running through the trees and across the golf course.
“I’ll go see what’s going on,” Nate said, but Sam grabbed his arm.
“Let the police take care of it, Nate.” She continued to grip him firmly, digging her nails into his biceps. “Stay with me, please.”
He couldn’t very well leave her after she’d said that. It would be ungentlemanlike. Eventually, Rhys and Jake came out, Jake grabbing something from the back of his truck.
Rhys approached Nate and Sam, shaking his head. “I told y’all to wait in the car.”
“Did I have a break-in?
” Sam asked.
“Yup,” Rhys answered. “They’re still in there, cut through your screen door.”
“Oh my God.” Sam leaned back against Nate’s chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. Rhys pretended not to notice, but Nate knew he had.
“How many are there? And why are you leaving them in there?” Just as Nate thought, it had to be teenagers. Knowing his brother-in-law, Rhys had tied the kids up to scare the hell out of them. At least they hadn’t gotten away with any of Sam’s valuables.
“That’s what the trap is for.” Jake held up the contraption he’d retrieved from his truck.
Sam and Nate looked at Rhys.
Rhys laughed. “It’s raccoons. Two of ’em. And I won’t lie to you. They’ve made a big mess. As soon as we came in, they took cover in your pantry. We thought we’d try to catch them before calling animal control. Those folks have got their hands full with bears getting into people’s garbage.”
“Raccoons?” Sam said, and made a face like humans might’ve been more preferable. Nate, though, was relieved.
“Sam, you can’t leave windows open, especially ones that wildlife can get through,” Rhys admonished. “Luckily, these two critters were big enough to trigger your alarm, because they’re mean cusses.” Rhys left them to join Jake back inside the house.
“I better give them a hand,” Nate said, but Sam continued to hold on to his arm. “Hey, they’re just raccoons.”
“I know. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. You can go over to my place and hang out on my . . . nonexistent couch.” He’d almost said bed.
Given that they’d shared that mind-blowing kiss, bed might’ve sounded suggestive. What the hell was he thinking? Of course it would’ve sounded suggestive. But when he got around her, he started thinking of beds. And the backseats of cars, her kitchen countertop, and the front desk at the inn. Show a little freaking willpower, would ya? And some maturity, while you’re at it. It wasn’t like Nate was a teenager.
“I want to assess the damage,” Sam said, and walked past him to get to the door.
