Meant to Be

by Maggie McGinnis

  Shelby laughed. “How old are these contacts?”

  “Ten.”

  She laughed harder. “I never would have guessed.”

  “They’ll be very disappointed if they don’t get worn, so I think it’d be best if you come with me to the barn so we can take the horses out for some exercise.” He sobered. “All of the guests are out on trail rides again, so if it does matter, there’s nobody around except Kyla and Ma right now.”

  She looked at him standing there, and for a pained moment, wished he were asking because he wanted to—instead of because it apparently was his job to keep her busy.

  “I don’t even know if I remember how to ride.”

  “No worries. You can’t forget.” He tipped his head toward the stables. “Come on, Shelby. For the rest of your life, you’ll look back on this month at Whisper Creek. You’ll have the calendar hanging in your kitchen. You’ll see pictures of Montana on the Web, or a brochure, or some TV show, and you’ll think about this ranch. And will you be content knowing you stayed in a damn cabin all month? Or will you wish you’d actually gone out and experienced this place?”

  “Have you seen the inside of my cabin? It’s designed for staying in.”

  “Not my point.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes. “Is it, like, a cowboy crime to stay inside on a sunny day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if you’re really a cop?”

  She saw a flash of—was it pain? Anger?—cross his face before he composed his features into a cheeky smile.

  “Not a cop right now. Just a cowboy. And you just play a celebrity on TV, so you can totally go cowgirl out here. And that means we ride.”

  “Nice try. No, I don’t. And ride where?”

  He smiled, like he had her. “There’s a great waterfall two miles north. Guests went south.”

  Shelby crossed her arms, wanting to capitulate, but not wanting to let him know that. “How long will it take to get there?”

  “You on a schedule now, princess?”

  “Just wondering how long it would take someone to come rescue me if you fell off a cliff or something.”

  He paused, studying her face. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who needs a lot of rescuing, Shelby. But we can take a radio. If you shove me off a cliff, you can use that to call back to the ranch for a rescue.”

  “Comforting. Thank you.”

  “So, we leave in fifteen minutes? That give you enough time?”

  Shelby took a deep breath, then stepped out the door and put out her hands. He smiled as he handed her the glasses, then set the hat gently on her head.

  She looked down at the hot-pink shades. “These aren’t terribly subtle.”

  “Nope. But they’ll hide your eyes, and I imagine your eyes are what get you recognized more than anything else.”

  Shelby swallowed hard as she slid on the glasses.

  Oh, if he only knew.

  Chapter 9

  Two hours later, Cooper sighed in contentment as he tipped his hat down and lay back on the grass, stomach full of Ma’s raspberry pie. Shelby sat beside him—but a safe distance away, he noticed—and the horses grazed quietly on the hillside behind them.

  “You were right,” she said. “This is better than sitting in my cabin.”

  “Told ya.”

  “And you, I’m guessing, are one of those men who thinks you’re always right?”

  “About some things, yeah.” Cooper closed his eyes under the brim of his hat.

  “But not others?”

  “Definitely not others.” Like, say, narcissistic girlfriends and a brotherhood-that-wasn’t.

  He suppressed a sigh, determined to keep the conversation light. “For instance, I’m pretty much always wrong about the weather.”

  Shelby looked at the sky. “How can you be wrong about it out here? You can see it coming for miles.”

  “Sometimes.” He pointed toward the northern Rockies in the distance, known out here as the Crazies. “But those mountains? They have their own opinion about how things should work. Decker and Cole have been teaching me the signs, but I still get caught out on horseback sometimes when I should be back at the bunkhouse.”

  “But not, say, this time, right?” She looked at the sky again, which was an iridescent blue, without a cloud in sight.

  “Nope. You’re safe. Rogue storms are at least fifteen minutes out. It’s the bears we need to worry about.”

  Her head jerked toward him. “Not funny.”

  “Not lying. Just don’t go berry-picking alone, all right?”

  She looked around, and he almost felt guilty for scaring her, but he supposed one of his jobs was to make sure she didn’t get dragged off to a bear cave and served up for dinner.

  “Have you ever seen one?” she asked.

  “Just from a distance. Which is exactly how I prefer to keep it.”

  “How big are they?”

  “Depends how old they are. If they’re not big enough to scare you, then there’s probably a momma bear right behind them who will.”

  Shelby sat still for a long moment, her long fingers tearing a blade of grass into oblivion as she scanned the woods beyond the meadow.

  “I think I might ask Kyla for a new tour guide. No offense.”

  “None taken.” He laughed. “But your other choices are all of those girlie calendar guys. You don’t want to deal with all of that ego.”

  She snorted, then covered her mouth. “Actually, supersized egos are totally in my wheelhouse. It’s the quiet guys that scare me.”

  “Good thing I’m a talker, then.”

  “Guys that threaten me with bears also scare me. Just saying.”

  “Not threatening you. Just speaking truth. And we haven’t even talked about the resident moose population yet. You want to talk scary…”

  “An-nd that’ll be enough out of you.” Shelby shook her head, standing up. “Should we head back before the wildlife attacks and we’re never heard from again?”

  “Can’t.” He made a show of checking his watch. “Stable area will be a hub of activity for the next couple of hours. Gunnar—you’ll meet him—is training a new horse from somewhere down south, and all the trail rides will be hoofing it in soon.”

  “So we’re stuck out here?” She crossed her arms.

  “Only if you don’t want to be seen.” He shrugged. “And I have to be honest, those pink shades are hardly invisible.”

  “You told me I had to wear them. So I wore them.”

  “And do you always do what people tell you to do?”

  Shelby’s jaw tensed, and he watched her lips turn into a thin, straight line.

  Yowza. Looked like he’d hit a big-ass nerve. Again.

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “I was just joking. I didn’t mean that.”

  She took a deep breath. “It’s okay. You can’t possibly know what might hit a nerve, especially if I’m playing the whole secret-celebrity game and not telling you anything about myself.” She rolled her eyes like she was disgusted with herself—or someone else. “Not your fault. And to answer your question…yes, I’m very good at doing what I’m told. Also good at wearing what I’m told. Sometimes, I even say what I’m told.”

  He nodded slowly, not quite sure how to respond. “That sounds completely miserable.”

  Shelby smiled. “It—actually, it is.”

  “So why do you do it?”

  “Because.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s how it works.”

  “How what works?”

  She looked at him, eyes tracing his face like she was trying to decide whether he was worthy of hearing her truth. Then she looked down. Apparently he wasn’t.

  “How my life works.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”

  “I’m a pretty good listener, if it matters. Think I mentioned that.”

  “You did. I’m sure you are. But…it’s just—I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

  “Promise
I won’t call the paparazzi, or put a tracking device under your saddle.”

  “Reassuring, thanks.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then crossed his arms over his knees. Not very long ago, he would have pulled the cop card, and his honesty would have been a silver-badged guarantee. But if even he didn’t know what to believe about himself anymore, how could he possibly expect her to?

  To his surprise, she sat back down, too. “The guests must love this spot,” she said. He glanced at her, but she kept her eyes on the waterfall. “I’m trying to turn our conversation to something inane so that we don’t have to spend the next two hours in an awkward silence.”

  “Gotcha.” He smiled, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his arms. “And no. The guests actually never get to see this spot.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there are places at Whisper Creek that are only for family and staff. I guess when you turn your property into a guest enterprise, you try to reserve at least a little bit of it for yourselves.”

  “Well, I feel very honored that I got to see this.” She sighed, matching her pose to his, and the investigator piece of his brain took in her open stance, just as the man piece of his brain noticed how the buttons on her shirt pulled just right over her chest…and noticed how her blond hair tickled her shoulders.

  “I think one of the guys proposed out here, actually.”

  She turned to look at him. “Really? Wow. Points for him. Talk about a romantic spot.”

  “Is it?” He shrugged.

  Shelby rolled her eyes again. “Yes, Cooper. It is.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Seriously?” She laughed. “Sunny meadow, rushing water, nobody around for miles? It reminds me of a creek where we used to skinny-dip back in Nashville.”

  Cooper felt his gut heat as he tried not to picture her skinny-dipping any-damn-where. But he couldn’t stop from blurting out a question he knew he probably shouldn’t ask, because he really didn’t need the vision feeding his fantasies later.

  “How long ago was this?”

  She smiled for a quick second before jagged pain crossed her features. Then she took a catchy breath. “Long time ago.”

  “So that’s where you’re from? Nashville?”

  “Mostly. I guess. Yeah.” She shrugged like she wasn’t completely sure. But he could tell just the thought of it was killing her for some reason.

  “You love it back there, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, swallowing hard. “My heart’s there. Or—it was.”

  They sat in silence for long minutes, mostly because Cooper—who could pretty much always think of something to say to lighten a moment—was mute. He hardly knew this woman, and yet…he felt like he could almost sense his chest constricting when tears clouded her green eyes.

  “Hey, Shelby?” He opened the cooler bag.

  “What?” She half-turned, her expression guarded, like she expected he was going to dig deeper into her answer.

  “You know what else I’m always wrong about?”

  “What?”

  “Cheese.”

  A surprised laugh sneaked out, and she smiled. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

  “I’m serious. It is really hard to pick a good cheese. I’ve been wrong more times than I want to count.”

  “This is—a thing for you? Choosing cheese?”

  “Life mission sort of thing, really.”

  “Shut up.”

  He smiled. “Kidding. But have you ever checked out the cheese cooler in the grocery store? There is a lot of cheese.”

  Even as he said it, he suspected she spent about as much time in a grocery store as the average superstar…which was none. She probably had her own personal shoppers, her own delivery service. He’d bet Shelby here didn’t participate in such menial tasks as buying her own groceries.

  “It’s…been a while.”

  “Right.” He nodded tightly. “Not too many grocery stores in Neverlandia, I suppose.”

  “Exactly.” She smiled like she was grateful for the out. “But if there were, I wouldn’t have any idea which cheese to pick out, either.”

  “Go with American slices, individually wrapped. Always a safe choice.”

  She made a disgusted face. “Is that even real cheese?”

  He laughed. “See if I cook you a cheeseburger again. Which reminds me—do you know how to cook anything?”

  “He says, like it would be the crime of the century if I didn’t.”

  “Not a crime. Just a little unusual, since you’re single. I imagine you do eat, at least occasionally.”

  She shrugged. “Well, there’s the whole princess angle. I’ve got a team that feeds and clothes me.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “Yeah.” Her face grew serious again. “You’d think.”

  “Overrated?”

  “Seriously overrated.”

  He was silent for a long moment, then figured she wasn’t saying anything more. “Want to hike behind the falls?”

  “Seriously?” She looked dubious. “You can go behind them?”

  “Only if you’re a princess. Or a princess’s tour guide.”

  She looked at the water cascading over the ridge high above them, and he watched her try to chase fear with confidence.

  “Is it safe?”

  “If you do it right.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Don’t worry.” He held out a hand, wishing he wasn’t hoping so hard that she’d take it. “I’ve never lost a princess yet.”

  —

  “Oh. My. God.” Shelby felt her whole face smile as she followed Cooper around a couple of glacier-leftover boulders and found herself face-to-face with the back side of the waterfall. She’d never seen anything like it, and it reminded her of the pics she’d bookmarked on some tropical resort site long ago.

  The water fell with such a churning crash that she could barely hear herself speak, and mist rose around her, settling in tiny droplets on her face. The rocks under her feet were slick with moss, and when she lost her balance briefly, Cooper grabbed her hand to steady her.

  “Watch yourself. Slippery.” He spoke close to her ear, and she knew it was because he assumed she wouldn’t hear him otherwise, but it still sent shivery vibrations down her spine. He let go as soon as she was firmly planted on both feet, and she was surprised to feel a glimmer of disappointment that he had.

  He led her along a rocky path behind the waterfall, stopping periodically so they could reach out and catch the water on their fingers. With tall cliffs on one side and the curtain of water on the other, Shelby felt like she was in a cocoon.

  Daddy would have loved this, she thought. He would have loved to sit right down on these rocks and let the water cascade around him…would have loved to raise his chin and close his eyes and hear music in the water as it fell…would have loved to jump right off the edge and plunge into the pool below, laughing the entire time.

  She looked down, leaning farther than was probably wise, and she felt Cooper position himself closer to her, ready to catch her, maybe. But he didn’t touch her, and for that, she was grateful. Weird that he seemed to have this innate understanding that as much as she was confused by her reaction to his touch, she also needed space, and a whole lot of it.

  She turned to him. “Do you ever swim here?”

  “Haven’t in a while.”

  “Ever jump?”

  “No. It’s a long way down. I don’t recommend it.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. There’s a better way.”

  She followed him for another twenty feet, then felt her eyes widen as he took off his boots, then headed down a huge rock, walking like a crab. When he got to the bottom, he turned around and motioned her down. But no way was she crab-walking in front of him. She had some pride, thank you very much.

  Twenty seconds later, after wobbling so dangerously on her bare feet that she almost slid down the rock headfirst, s
he lowered herself into a crab position and inched her way toward him. She could tell he was biting back a smile as she landed at his feet, but he didn’t say anything—just put out his hand to help her stand back up.

  Then he pointed to a chute-shaped indentation in the rock to his right. Water poured into it from above, but when she leaned over, she couldn’t tell where it went.

  “Is this some sort of natural water slide?”

  “Exactly.”

  She smiled tentatively. They’d climbed a long way up here. The chute had to be at least fifty feet long—maybe more. And it was rock, for goodness’ sake. And they had their clothes on.

  “We’re not—you’re not thinking—we’re not going to actually go down it, are we?”

  “Why not? It’ll be epic.”

  “Have you done it before?”

  “Once.” He nodded. “And look. Still here to tell the tale.”

  “But…if it was so epic, wouldn’t you have done it more than once?”

  “Haven’t had time.”

  “How long is the chute?”

  He smiled. “Long enough.”

  “I won’t die?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Probably?”

  He shrugged. “Depends how you do. Just make sure you go feet first.” He grabbed hold of the rock above their heads, launching himself into the chute. “I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

  “But Cooper! How do I get down if I don’t want to do this?”

  “You turn around and walk back down. Your decision, but I’m going this way. I highly recommend it.” He waved as he shoved off, then whooped his way down—a really, really long way down—until she lost sight of him and couldn’t hear his voice over the waterfall’s noise.

  Well, hell.

  She looked down the chute again, looked up at the handhold he’d used, looked at the water falling hard over the edge. Dammit. She didn’t want to chicken out and hike all the way back down. It was hot, and the water would feel fantastic.

  She wanted to. She really did. It would be her, taking a risk, without anybody’s permission. Nic would kill her if she knew. She was surprised at how heady that made her feel.