A Maverick to [Re] Marry

by Christine Rimmer

  She was vaguely aware of the door closing as Ned left, but mostly she was blown away by the saddle in front of her. “Wow.” She reached out and touched the supple, intricately tooled fender. “This is from Alarica, right?” She named the wildly popular video game in which robots had taken over the world and gone to war with each other.

  “You guessed it.”

  “Wow,” she said again for lack of a word good enough.

  “A long way from a leather vest and a fringed skirt, huh?” He slanted her one his almost-smiles.

  “I loved that vest and skirt,” she informed him and tried to decide whether to admit she still had them, that she never could bear to let them go. But no. To confess that seemed unbearably intimate, somehow. And they were not getting intimate. They were keeping it friendly, easy and light. “This is perfection, Derek.” She stroked the barrel of a futuristic weapon, ran her finger down the perfectly pin-hinged hip of the robot temptress, Dellarue, who seduced her challengers before killing them.

  “Collin does the classic Western stuff,” he explained. “I’m getting known for the weird projects and I like it that way. I did a whole series of saddles for an El Baharian sheikh, scenes from famous battles in the history of El Bahar. This one, though, was commissioned by Lincoln Copes, the creator of Alarica. He’s got a ranch in Idaho not far from Sundance where he breeds Arabians.”

  He also showed her saddlebags tooled with exotic twining flowers—orchids, anthuriums, jasmine, hibiscus—and another saddle decorated with stars and moons.

  “They’re all so gorgeous.”

  He took her arm and turned her around to face him. “You sound impressed.”

  “I am. All this is, well, I think I may be running out of adjectives. I knew you had talent for working with leather. I just didn’t realize how far you would take it.”

  “All the way.” He touched her hair again, wrapping a curl of it around his finger. The moment felt just next-door to the intimacy they weren’t supposed to be sharing and she enjoyed it way too much.

  Taking his sweet time over it, he unwrapped that curl and let his hand drop away, after which they shared a long, lovely moment where all they did was stare at each other and grin.

  “Tell me about Ned,” she suggested after what felt like forever. “What did he mean that working here keeps him out of trouble?”

  “His mom died a few years ago.”

  “That’s hard.”

  “Yeah. He was an only kid, close to his mom. And he didn’t get along that well with his dad. He started acting out.”

  “After she died, you mean?”

  “Right.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Sixteen now. Last year, when he was fifteen, he kind of lost it. Broke into his dad’s liquor cabinet and got drunk, wandered over to Crawford’s General Store—at night, when the store was closed—and threw rocks in the windows.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He backed up a little and sat on an empty saddle stand. Shaking his head, he went on, “Then he came here, broke another window and climbed in it. Didn’t do much damage, really, other than the busted window. But he did trigger the alarm. After it rang for a minute or two, he realized he would probably get caught if he tried to hide out in the saddlery, so he jumped back out the window and took off down North Broomtail Road—right past the sheriff’s office. Gage Christensen, who’s the sheriff now, caught him and locked him up in the jail to put the fear of the law in him.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “Yeah. Once he sobered up a little, Ned was scared to death he was going straight to the state pen. Kind of woke up Ned’s dad, too. He agreed to get family counseling with Ned. We—me and Collin and the Crawfords—offered Ned the chance to work part-time at the general store and here at the saddlery to pay for the damage he’d done. Long story short, Ned and his dad are getting along better after counseling and Ned found out he likes making things from leather. The kid’s got talent for it, too. Once he worked off his debt, he asked if maybe we would keep him on. He works a few hours on the weekends during the school year and twenty hours a week now that it’s summer vacation.”

  “A happy ending, then.”

  “You could say that.” He watched her so closely, his hot gaze tracking from her mouth to her eyes and back again. It sent a happy little thrill rushing through her, the way he looked at her, even if happy little thrills weren’t the kind of thing she should be letting him inspire in her.

  She gave herself a mental shake. “I love it when bad stuff turns good—and it’s so great, what you and Collin and the Crawfords did, giving Ned a way to turn things around for himself.”

  He shrugged off her praise. “Hey, it’s Rust Creek Falls. Everything always ends happily here.”

  “So they say.” Tenderness welled in her. Yeah, he had that sexy edge of the hot guy all the girls sighed over. But he was also a good guy, always had been. “And you never could take a compliment.” When he made a scoffing sound, she insisted, “I mean it, Derek. You did reach out and help Ned when he needed it. Don’t brush me off when I say I admire what you did.”

  He stood and stepped closer. “All right, then.” He smelled so good, of leather and man. Another sweet, endless glance passed between them. “Thank you.”

  “That’s better.”

  He took her hand. His touch felt so right, stirring old memories, making her wish he might never let go. “Now how ’bout that fancy burger?”

  “Sounds great.” And much less dangerous than being here alone with him where who knew what kind of mischief she might be tempted to get up to. “I’ll follow you.”

  He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. Such a simple caress, yet it stirred her. Too much. “You might as well just ride with me.”

  Was she tempted? Oh, yes. But somehow, she managed to shake her head. “Then you’d just have to bring me all the way back here to get my car.”

  “I wouldn’t mind. Not one bit.” He dipped his dark head a fraction closer, that unruly hair of his flopping on his forehead, just begging her to reach up and smooth it back.

  “Derek?” Her voice sounded downright husky.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m taking my own car.”

  Now he was the one shaking his head. “Have it your way.”

  “I believe I will.” She couldn’t stifle a slow grin.

  “You’re acting kind of naughty, Miss Wainwright.”

  She let her grin get even wider. “Maybe. A little.” It was only flirting, after all. And it felt wonderful.

  Still holding her hand, he turned for the door.

  * * *

  At Maverick Manor, they parked side by side in the lot by the main entrance.

  “Wait a minute,” she said, when he stepped up and opened her car door for her. “Isn’t this...?”

  “Bledsoe’s Folly?” He took her hand and she let him. “The one and only.” The imposing log home had been built way back in the ’80s by an eccentric multimillionaire who later lost it all when the market crashed. “Bledsoe’s original log mansion is the center of Maverick Manor.”

  “It looks great. And even bigger.”

  “They added on, of course, but kept the log cabin–style throughout.”

  Inside, he gave her a quick tour—from the giant central lobby with its impressive mural honoring the founding families of Rust Creek Falls to the meeting rooms they would be using for the party. They went outside and strolled the grounds, lush and green in high summer, and then checked out the dining room. Finally, they took seats in the bar and enjoyed giant, juicy burgers with hot, crispy fries. She got out her phone and they went over the few things she’d yet to find for the party.

  “Text the list to me,” he said. “I’ll see how many I can get and then, if we have to, we’ll figure out something else to do for the rest.”

  “You’re sure? Because I don’t mind—”

  He put his hand over hers, tucking his thumb all cozy in the cove of her p
alm. Little flares of pleasure spiked along her nerve endings. “I’ve got this. Give me tomorrow to work on it. I’ll come by Sunshine Farm tomorrow after dinner. Say, seven?”

  “Seven works.” She picked up the check. He tried to snatch it from her. “Uh-uh. You brought me a picnic. I’m good for the burgers.”

  He walked her out to her car. It was almost nine by then, dusk painting the sky in layers of vivid color.

  He asked her about her job. “Luke said you track down the bad guys online.”

  “More or less.” She launched into an explanation of the growing prevalence of digital fraud and how her work entailed staying one step ahead of embezzlers, hackers and other internet criminals. “I work mostly at home.”

  “Doesn’t that get lonely?”

  “Not really. I make my own hours. Sometimes they’re very long hours when the situation is urgent and I need to produce a report in a short time frame. On the other hand, nobody complains if I’m not at my desk nine to five. It’s a great job that holds my interest. Never boring, you know?”

  “Kind of like fixing fences,” he joked.

  But she didn’t laugh. “Well, you need to keep those cattle where you put them and I need to keep the money in the hands of the people it actually belongs to, so yeah. Kind of like fixing fences.”

  She could have stood there in that parking lot with him, talking about nothing in particular, all night long.

  But when she reluctantly turned to open her door, he reached around and did it for her. She got in. He waved as she drove away.

  * * *

  He knocked on the farmhouse door at seven sharp the next night. She ushered him and he said hi to Eva and Luke.

  Eva asked, “Did you eat?” When he said he had, she offered, “How about a fat slice of loganberry pie, then?”

  “Eva.” He gave her his killer grin. “If you baked it, I’m in.”

  Derek and Luke sat at the table, eating pie and drinking coffee, discussing alfalfa crop yields and beef prices as Amy helped Eva load the dishwasher with the dinner dishes and wipe down the counters.

  It was nice, Amy thought. Homey. The four of them in the kitchen, the good smells of coffee and the banana bread Eva had baking in the oven, the deep, easy sounds of the men’s voices as they talked about everyday things.

  Like a fantasy, really. A faint, sweet echo of the life she’d once imagined for herself. This was how it would have been if she and Derek had stayed together and she’d become a ranch wife—while somehow also managing to get her degree and a great job that challenged her.

  “What?” asked Eva softly.

  Amy realized she was just standing at the counter, staring off into space with a dish towel in one hand and the cut crystal relish plate in the other. “Um, nothing. Not a thing.”

  Eva’s bright blue eyes actually seemed to twinkle. “Yeah, right.”

  Amy insisted, “Really. Nothing. I was thinking about nothing.”

  Eva laughed, but said no more.

  A few minutes later, out on the porch again, Derek and Amy went over the dwindling list of party supplies they still needed and agreed on substitutes for what they hadn’t found. She insisted that he let her look for those.

  Then they climbed in his pickup and drove to the yellow barn, where they added the things he’d rounded up that day to the growing pile of goodies Luke had let them store in the tack room.

  By the time they finished that small chore it was half past eight—and she just didn’t want him to go.

  She perched on a hay bale and willed him to sit down next to her. “We should talk about setup, don’t you think? I know it’s eleven days until the party, but it can’t hurt to get everything planned out in advance.”

  “Fair enough.” He hooked his hat on a tack hanger and dropped to her side, right where she wanted him.

  Yes, she was being thoroughly bad, to keep urging him closer when she should let him go. But somehow, she couldn’t help herself. She never could resist being bad when it came to him. Some things, apparently, never changed.

  She’d been the shiest girl at Rust Creek Falls High—until she and Derek had gotten together. After that New Year’s Eve when they’d declared their young love to each other, she’d become totally shameless in her need to be near him as often as possible.

  “I talked to the manager over at the Manor,” he said. “We can get in there to start setting up at 6:00 a.m.”

  “And the party starts at seven that night...” She tipped her head to the side as though considering what he’d just told her. In reality, her senses were on overload. He was so close, his warm, hard thigh touching hers. “It should be totally doable,” she said, biting her lower lip, pretending to be deep in thought.

  “Yeah,” he replied, drawing out the word, his head turned her way, his gaze on her mouth. “Doable.”

  It was delicious, this shivery excitement spreading all through her. “Delphine and Calla and their families are driving in the day before, on Friday.” Her own voice surprised her, sounding so calm and unaffected. “They’ll pitch in, along with their husbands and kids.” Eva’s sisters, along with Luke’s sisters, Bella and Dana, Jamie’s wife, Fallon, and Danny’s wife, Annie, were all to be bridesmaids. “Dana will be coming Friday, as well.” Last born of the seven Stockton siblings, Dana lived in Oregon. She would be staying with Bella and Hudson until after the wedding.

  “And you know we’ll get Bailey, Danny and Jamie to help,” he added. Luke’s brothers were the other groomsmen. “Plus, whoever else we can get to volunteer.”

  “It’ll work. Thirteen hours or so should be plenty of time to set it all up.”

  “Okay, then.” He rose.

  No! cried the romantic fool within her. Not yet. Don’t go yet.

  But he was already standing above her. “Unless you need me for anything in the meantime,” he said, “we’re all set until 6:00 a.m. a week from Saturday. If I don’t hear from you before then, I’ll call you and touch base next Tuesday, just to be sure we’re up to speed.”

  She had the insane urge to grab his hand and yank him back down onto the hay bale with her. Really, this was so weak and wrong of her. They’d agreed that the past was the past and they’d grown beyond it. They were friends by necessity until Eva and Luke walked down the aisle.

  “When did you and Luke get to be friends?” The question just burst out of her, sounding slightly squeaky with a weird, desperate edge. And she was desperate. Because she wanted to keep him there and all her good sense had flown out the tack room door.

  He didn’t answer right away, just gazed down at her with a musing expression. Really, it wasn’t fair in the least. He had those beautiful green eyes and that hair she wanted to run her fingers through. And what about that mouth of his? She simply could not stop longing to kiss him again. And then there were those broad, muscled shoulders, those calloused, talented hands.

  The man was pure temptation, up close and in person.

  “It was just a natural thing,” Derek said, and she had no idea what he was talking about. She’d forgotten the question she had just asked him.

  Not that it mattered, as long as she could continue to stare up at him, continue to feel this beautiful longing that she would never do anything about.

  Uh-uh. No way. Not a chance. Forget about it.

  “Neighbors helping neighbors,” he said. “When he and Eva moved into the farmhouse, I dropped by to help them get settled in.” Right. Luke. She’d asked him about Luke. “There were a lot of fences down on this place. I helped with that. And over at the Circle D, when some of our calves wandered off in a freak spring blizzard, Luke brought Bailey and helped me and my brother Eli and a couple of our cousins track them through the storm.” He stared down at her, right into her eyes now.

  She wished he would go on like that, just standing there looking at her, for a lifetime. Or two.

  “Luke and me,” he went on thoughtfully, “we just get along. He had a rough time, back when his parents died, bu
t he came through it strong, you know? He’s a man you can count on.” Derek chuckled, a warm, rueful sound. “And besides, if I’m his best man, he doesn’t have to choose between his brothers.”

  She laughed, too. “Well, yeah. There’s that. Same thing with Eva. She chose me. So, her sisters and sisters-in-law can all be bridesmaids equally. Plus, she’s been trying to get me back to town for thirteen years now. She kind of pulled out all the stops when she started in on me to be her maid of honor. Calla and Delphine put the pressure on, too. They were relentless, those three.”

  “Worked, didn’t it?” His voice was low and rough, like they were sharing a secret, just the two of them. “Eva’s a woman who knows what she wants and never quits until she gets it.”

  “I think she’s matchmaking us,” Amy said, the words just kind of popping out without permission from her brain.

  One corner of that impossibly sexy mouth of his quirked up. “You think so, huh?”

  Her cheeks felt so hot, burning red. “I...don’t know why I said that.”

  “Yeah, you do.” It was there in his eyes now, clear as day. He knew what she was up to, that she was trying to keep him there though it was past time for him to go.

  And still, she longed simply to ask him to sit back down beside her, to talk to her, soft and low, about any old subject that wandered into his mind. She didn’t care what they said.

  She just wanted him near.

  Good gravy, what was wrong with her? Enough of this reckless foolishness.

  She rose.

  He didn’t back up, though.

  They ended up mere inches apart. If she took a deep breath, her breasts would just about brush his hard chest.

  And oh, the warmth of him, the strength and height of him.

  The scent of him, of pine and leather.

  Everything about him seemed to reach for her, to wrap around her, to reel her in.

  And then he did reach for her. He hooked an arm around her waist. She let out a sharp gasp of mingled alarm and delight as he hauled her up tight against him, her breasts to his chest, her thighs pressed to his thighs—and oh, she could feel him, feel the evidence of his desire for her pressed to her belly.