The Last Single Maverick

by Christine Rimmer

  Joss let out a strangled shriek and grabbed onto the saddle horn for dear life. She caught one last look at Jace’s stunned face and then she and Cupcake were off, heading straight down the mountain, kicking up a cloud of dust in a high-speed, utterly terrifying slide.

  Chapter Six

  With both hands, Joss clutched the saddle horn for all she was worth. There was a rushing sound in her ears and her heart beat so hard it hurt. She closed her eyes. She closed them really tight.

  Why look? She knew she was done for, that poor Cupcake would lose his precarious balance as they skidded down the mountainside. He would topple and roll and she would roll with him—under him. Oh, it was definitely not going to be pretty.

  The brave horse stumbled. She lost her seat and felt herself starting to go airborne. But somehow, even though her arms felt wrenched from their sockets, she managed to hold on. Her butt hit the saddle again, knocking the wind out of her, sending a sharp crack of pure pain zipping up her tailbone, jangling her spine.

  She might have screamed. She wasn’t sure. It was all happening way too fast and she was so far from knowing what she ought to do next to try and maybe improve her odds of surviving the next, oh, say, twenty seconds.

  At least Cupcake remained upright and she was still in the saddle. So far. She dared to open her eyelids to slits, saw the blur of trees as they flew by, heard the sharp retort of hooves beneath her that told her the brave spotted horse was actually running now instead of sliding, that by some miracle, he had gotten his legs under him and started galloping in a zigzag pattern, sideways and downward, switching back and forth, one way and then the other, weaving between the trunks of the tall trees.

  And…was it possible? Were they slowing down a little?

  She felt dizzy and realized she’d forgotten to breathe. So she sucked in a quick breath and forced her eyes open wider and wished she hadn’t dropped the reins when she first grabbed for the saddle horn. Right now, she didn’t dare let go long enough to try to get hold of them again.

  Knees. She was supposed to use her knees, wasn’t she? Kind of press them together to let Cupcake know that stopping would be really, really good—no. Wait. That was to go faster. She really didn’t want to go faster.

  She needed the reins, but she didn’t have them.

  All she had was her voice. She used it. “Whoa,” she said, “Whoa, Cupcake.” It came out in a croak, but the horse actually seemed to hear her.

  Triumph exploded through her as he slowed even more with a low snorting sound. She had her eyes open all the way by then and she could see a sort of flat space up ahead, between two fir trees.

  She went for it, letting go of the saddle horn, groping frantically for the reins. And she got them! She tugged on them, saying “Whoa, whoa…”

  It worked. It totally worked. Cupcake came to a dead stop right there between those two trees.

  Actually, it was a really fast stop. Maybe too fast. And maybe she’d been a little rough with those reins. Cupcake rose on his hind legs and let out one of those angry neighs like the wild, mean horse always makes in the movies.

  She really should have grabbed for the saddle horn again.

  But before she remembered to do that, she was already sliding—right off the backside of Cupcake.

  She landed hard on the same place she’d hit when she bounced high in the saddle that one time Cupcake stumbled. Her poor backside. It would never be the same. She let out a “Whoof!” of surprise as she hit the ground, followed by a low groan of pain.

  And then she just flopped all the way down onto her back and stared up at the blue sky between the branches of the two big trees as she waited for the agony to finish singing up and down her spine.

  Cupcake, making soft chuffing, snuffling sounds, turned around and stood over her. He nuzzled her temple, snuffling some more.

  She groaned again and reached up and patted the side of his spotted head. “Good job,” she told him, and then qualified, “basically.” Reassured, he backed off a little and started nibbling at the skimpy grass between the trees.

  “Joss! My God, Joss!” It was Jason. Judging by the sound of swift hooves approaching, he must have taken off down the mountain after her.

  She really ought to sit up and show him that she was okay.

  And she would. Very soon. Right now, though, well, her butt really hurt and she didn’t have the heart to sit on it yet.

  A moment later, she heard him draw to a stop a few feet away. He was off that black horse and kneeling at her side in about half a second flat.

  His worried face loomed above her. “Joss…Joss are you…”

  “I’m okay,” she groaned.

  He didn’t look convinced. “Can you…move your arms and legs?”

  She reached up and touched the side of his face, the same way she had done with Cupcake. “Honestly, I’m fine—well, except for my backside. That could be better.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He looked positively stricken. “I made you come today. I never should have—”

  “Shh.” She put her fingers against his soft mouth. She really did love his mouth. She almost wished she’d kissed him last night after all, even if it was a bad idea. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m fine. Cupcake is fine.” She laughed a little. “And I have to tell you, that was exciting.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, too exciting.”

  She gave him her hand and he pulled her to a sitting position as she heard more horses approaching.

  “She okay?” Ethan asked. Joss glanced over her shoulder and saw Jace’s older brother, with Lizzie right behind him.

  “Everything works,” Joss told them, gathering her legs under her, only moaning a little, as Jace helped her to her feet. “But I’m guessing there will be bruises.” She leaned on Jace. He put his arm around her. That was nice. She felt safe and protected, all tucked up close against him.

  He said, “There’s a doctor available back at the resort. Can you ride back? He can take a look at you.”

  She put a hand to her head. “My hat…”

  “It’s halfway between here and the trail,” Lizzie said. “We can grab it on the way back up.”

  Joss stared from Jace to Lizzie and then to Ethan. “I can’t believe you guys rode down here on purpose—even to come to my rescue.”

  Ethan chuckled. “It’s really not that bad.”

  “It only seems that way when the trail breaks out from under you,” Lizzie added. “Lucky they gave you a steady-natured mount.”

  Joss cast an appreciative glance at Cupcake who continued happily munching the sparse grass. “He’s a champion, all right.”

  “Can we cut the chitchat?” Jace insisted, “We’ve got to get you to the doctor.”

  She reached back and felt all the places that ached. “Really, it’s just not that bad.”

  “Joss, you could have been—”

  “Don’t even say it. What matters is I wasn’t. Cupcake saved the day and I might end up with a bruise or two and there is no way I’m missing the picnic now I’ve come this far.”

  “But you—”

  She stuck her index finger in the air. “Wait. Watch.”

  “Joss—”

  “I mean it. Wait.”

  He looked at her like he wanted to strangle her, or at least try to shake a little sense into her. But he did shut up.

  She peeled his hand off her shoulder and stepped away from him. “See? Upright and A-okay.” She took a step, then another. It hurt a little. And she bet she was going to be sore the next morning. But she was absolutely certain the damage was only superficial. “Really, I’m okay. See?” She held her arms out to the side. “Ta-da!”

  “I don’t like it,” he grumbled.

  “Well, too bad. It’s my butt and I say it’s going to be fine.”

  Ethan laughed and shared a knowing glance with his wife. “Give it up, Jace. That woman has made up her mind.”

  * * *

  The trip back up to the trail was nowhere nea
r as thrilling as the ride down. In fact, going upward, it seemed steep, but not scarily so. And they found her hat about midway, as Lizzie had promised.

  Jace jumped down and retrieved it for her, scowling up at her as he handed it over. “You sure you don’t want to see the resort doctor?”

  She gave him her widest, most confident smile as she settled her hat back in place on her head. “I am absolutely certain. And tell you what, you don’t have to ask again. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

  “What if you have internal injuries?”

  “Thank you for getting my hat. And will you please stop worrying?”

  “It’s only that…” He pressed those fine lips together. “If you end up in a coma, I’ll hate myself forever and I’ll never forgive you.”

  “A coma? Maybe you didn’t notice. It wasn’t my head I landed on.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Hey, you two! Get a move on,” Ethan called from several yards ahead.

  Jace just waved a hand at him and kept looking up at Joss, a focused, intense, almost angry kind of look. “If anything happened to you, I couldn’t stand it….”

  His words warmed her. They…touched her, because he really meant them. He really did care. About her safety, her well-being.

  Maybe her life was a mess, but at least she’d found Jason. And he truly was her friend.

  “Shh.” She bent down to him and she kissed him, softly, quickly, on those perfect lips of his. They felt good, his lips. Even better than she had imagined they might. “Stop worrying,” she whispered. “That’s an order.”

  He stared up at her for a moment. He didn’t look so angry now. Was that a flash of heat she saw in his dark eyes? But then he frowned. “You’re fine? You mean that?”

  “I am. Yes.”

  Shaking his head, he turned and mounted the black horse and they continued upward.

  At the trail, the rest of the Traubs were waiting. They congratulated Joss on her excellent handling of a dangerous situation. She laughed and told them that her current good health was all due to Cupcake.

  They started moving again, following the narrow, winding trail up the side of Thunder Mountain. It was a gorgeous ride. And Joss appreciated it more fully for having survived the headlong tumble down the cliff. She felt a lot easier on Cupcake, too, a lot more confident that even if she was a complete greenhorn, her horse could handle just about anything that fate might throw his way.

  Eventually, they emerged from the trees at a higher elevation, where the wind blew brisk and cool and you could look down and see the lower hills and valleys spread out for miles and miles. From up there, the town of Thunder Canyon looked picture-postcard perfect. She could even see the little white church she and Jace had attended two days before. It really was a beautiful little town.

  The Traub women had packed a light meal in their saddlebags. They spread blankets in the sun and enjoyed a leisurely lunch. Joss ate heartily. The headlong race down the side of the mountain had given her an appetite.

  Jace stayed close. He seemed to be watching for a sign that she might need a doctor after all. She would glance over and catch him looking at her in that same concerned, attentive way. Every time he did that, she felt all warm and good inside. Protected.

  Cared for.

  She was starting to see that she really would be okay in the long run. Funny how a near-death experience can snap the world into sharper focus. She was young and smart and strong and she had enough money in her bank account to get by until she found another job.

  And hey, after knowing Jace, she had to admit that there were still a few good men left in the world. Not every guy was a cheating jerk.

  At three, they were back at the resort stables. Lizzie turned Cupcake over to the groom and felt a little sad to watch him amble away.

  Jace said, “I think you like that horse.”

  “He’s the best.”

  He put his arm around her and she leaned close to him with a sigh. He said, “We can ride again, you know, before the week is out.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, and looked up to meet those velvety brown eyes. “Let’s make a point to do that.”

  * * *

  That evening Ethan and Lizzie had the big family cookout at their place. Melba Landry was there. She told both Joss and Jason that she was expecting them at the Historical Society Museum.

  “Tomorrow, in fact,” Lizzie’s great-aunt instructed.

  Joss had a great time that evening. She helped Lizzie and Rose Traub Anderson in the kitchen. Lizzie was not only a baker but also an excellent all-around cook.

  Joss told her about the restaurant she’d managed in Sacramento. “I loved that job,” she said. “I hated to leave it. There was something new happening every night. A little bit glamorous, you know? All the customers dressed for a night out, the snowy tablecloths and the good china, floating candles and an orchid in a cut-crystal bud vase at every table. It was a really nice dinner place, with an excellent wine list and to-die-for desserts. I loved the camaraderie between the front and back of the house. And the chef, Marilyn, was a wonder. Not only super creative with a great reputation, but also the calmest, most even-tempered person I’ve ever met. People say chefs are temperamental. Not Marilyn Standall. I never once heard her even raise her voice, no matter how crazy things got in the kitchen.”

  Lizzie asked the next logical question. “Why did you quit?”

  Joss almost told her. Lizzie would be easy to confide in, but it would have been a downer to get into all that. So she only shrugged. “Time for a change, I guess. I like running a restaurant, though. Most likely I’ll find something similar when I get back to Sacramento.”

  Later, after most of the Traubs had gone home, Joss and Jason stayed to help bring in the extra chairs from outside and stack the dishes by the sink. Lizzie had a housekeeper who would be in to take care of the rest in the morning.

  It was after eleven when they climbed into Jace’s Range Rover for the drive back up to the resort.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked.

  “The best.”

  “Mind a little detour?” He started the engine.

  She glanced over at him and felt a warm glow move through her. “I’m open. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Jace’s heart sank as he pulled into the parking lot at the corner where Main Street turned sharply north and became Thunder Canyon Road.

  The sodium vapor lamp overhead lit a whole lot of empty asphalt. And the rustic, shingled two-story building stood dark in the eastern corner of the lot.

  He turned off the engine and leaned on the wheel to stare out the windshield in disbelief. “Not possible. Nobody said a word to me…”

  “A word about what?” Joss asked.

  He gestured at the darkened building. “The Hitching Post. Looks like it’s closed.”

  “Just for the night, right? It’s after eleven.”

  He shook his head. “In the summer, it used to be open Monday through Saturday till two in the morning.”

  “Maybe they changed their hours? I see a couple of lights on upstairs.”

  He leaned closer to the windshield until he could see the glow in the second-floor windows. “There are apartments up there…”

  She flashed that gorgeous smile at him as she pushed open the passenger door. “Come on. Let’s have a look, see what’s going on.”

  They walked across the empty parking lot together, their footsteps echoing in a way that sounded sad and lonesome to his ears. At the sidewalk, they turned for the front of the building, with its wide, wood-pillared porch and the big wooden sign between the windows on the second floor. The block letters were a little faded but still legible in the streetlamp’s glow: THE HITCHING POST.

  And the long rail was still there, at the sidewalk’s edge, the rail that had given the place its name back when it first opened as a bar and grill in the 1950s. To the present day, folks still used that rail to hitch their horses.

>   Or they used to, at least last summer, when he’d come to town for Corey’s wedding.

  There was a big white sign tacked to the doors. FOR SALE, it proclaimed in red letters large enough they were visible even in the shadows of the darkened porch.

  Twin signs in the windows that flanked the door proclaimed CLOSED INDEFINITELY in letters as big and red as those on the sign offering the place for sale.

  Jace stood on the sidewalk looking at all that darkness, at the sad little glow in one of those upstairs windows. “Closed indefinitely. How is that possible? They did a bang-up business. Everybody in town loved this place. I don’t get why it would close. And I can’t believe no one even told me.”

  Joss slipped her hand into his and he felt a little better. He was glad for the contact, glad she was there. She said, “You sound like you just lost an old friend.”

  He turned his gaze to her. There was plenty of light, both from the streetlamp and from the nearly full moon. She’d tipped up her pretty face to him, her big eyes amber-colored right then, and soft with sympathy. Gruffly, he confessed, “I feel like it, too. Damn. I was looking forward to showing you around inside, seeing if that bartender I liked, Carl, was still there. I’ve been wanting to tell you all about the Shady Lady.”

  “What shady lady?”

  “She was a local legend. Her real name was Lily Divine. She lived in Thunder Canyon back when the town was first settled. They called her the Shady Lady and she owned a saloon by that name, a saloon that stood right here, where the Hitching Post is now. Come on….” He tugged on her hand and she went with him, up the steps, into the shadows of that wide, deserted porch.

  She whispered, “Tell me you’re not planning a break-in.”

  He chuckled. “It did cross my mind. But no, I promise. We’re not breaking in. I just want a closer look at the For Sale sign.” He read the smaller print at the bottom. The Realtor was Bonnie Drake at Thunder Creek Real Estate. Her name was familiar. Hadn’t Ethan mentioned her in the past? Maybe she was the Realtor Ethan had used when he bought the building on State Street for TOI Montana.