by Jane Porter
And then his hands were under her blouse, his palms so warm against her skin, sending streaks of dizzying sensation throughout her body. It had been months since she’d been touched, months since she’d felt attractive or desirable. As his hands caressed over her stomach and up toward her ribs, his knuckles brushed the underside of her breasts and that light, fleeting touch made the air catch in her throat, and her pulse drum in her veins.
When he stroked her through her bra, she whimpered at the pleasure.
Suddenly a bright white light shone through the back window of the truck, and focused on them, blinding Sophie. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes.
Joe swore beneath his breath. “It’s either a ranger or a sheriff,” he muttered, lifting her back onto her seat and tugging her top down before adjusting himself.
Sure enough, a uniformed deputy approached the truck, his flashlight swinging, checking out the interior of the truck cab.
Joe rolled the truck window down. “Logan,” he said, greeting the deputy sheriff. “How’s it going?”
“Good. How are you, Joe?” the deputy said, trying to look severe but failing. “Everything okay, here?”
“Everything’s fine,” Joe answered.
“Truck didn’t break down?” Logan asked.
“No. We’re just trying to get a little alone time.” Joe gestured to Sophie. “Have you met my fiancée yet, Sophie Correia?”
“I haven’t.” The deputy extended his hand through the window to Sophie. “Logan Tate.”
“Nice to meet you, Logan.”
“Same,” Logan said, before glancing at Joe. “When’s the wedding?”
“A couple weeks,” Joe said gruffly. “It’ll be at Emerson’s Barn. You should come.”
“Send me an invite and I will.”
Chapter Nine
Sophie giggled as Joe started the truck and they headed back onto the highway heading for Marietta. “That was embarrassing,” she said, “but also funny. I don’t think I’ve been caught making out in a car since I was a junior in high school.”
“I just found it embarrassing,” Joe answered. “I’ve known Logan Tate forever, and I don’t need him playing sheriff with me.”
“He seemed to think it was funny, too.”
“Because he’s a deputy sheriff.”
“Do you have an issue with authority figures, Joe Wyatt?”
“No. Just Logan.” He smiled reluctantly. “He and I used to go at it.”
“Fight?”
“All the time.”
“Why?”
“Don’t know why. I guess it’s what boys do.”
“To establish dominance,” Sophie said. “I know how this works. I have brothers. But there had to be a reason you and Logan would get into it that frequently.”
“I actually don’t remember. I know I used to be more of a hothead. I was angry about a lot of things. Dad dying. Mom falling apart. Granddad being Granddad.”
“What does that mean?”
“Granddad used to be a lot harder. He’s mellowed over the years, especially when we all left to compete on the PRCA circuit. But when we were kids, he was strict, and he didn’t put up with any backtalk. Heaven help you if he caught you rolling your eyes.”
“Would he hit you?”
“No, but he’d give you chores from dawn to dusk. The worst chores. Usually involving, mud, muck, and manure. When we arrived here after my dad died, we didn’t know what hit us. We were pretty torn up, at least I know I was, and I didn’t want to be in Montana. I didn’t want to be stuck on that ranch. And I didn’t want my mom crying all the time. I was angry, and I took my frustration out on the playground. I’d look for trouble. I loved to fight. But then, we all did. Sam, Billy, Tommy, me—we were our own wild pack. Scrappy. A lot of the other ranching families in the valley weren’t fans of ours. They complained about us to the school, they complained about us to Granddad, they complained about us to anyone who’d listen. I guess we were hoodlums.” His lips twisted and he shook his head. “That’s when Granddad got us involved in the junior rodeo. It’s hard to have the energy to fight if you’re always sore and nursing broken bones from riding, roping, and wrestling steers.”
It was the longest Sophie had ever heard him talk about anything, and the most words she’d ever heard him say at one time, and it crossed her mind again that he kept so much inside. He must have a whole world of hurt and grief locked down within him. And for the first time, she understood that him getting over Charity probably had less to do with Charity herself and more to do with loss in general. His not dating wasn’t because he couldn’t find another woman as wonderful as Charity, but that his heart couldn’t handle more pain.
“Sounds like you Wyatt boys took to the junior rodeo pretty well,” she said, putting her hand on his leg, just above his knee. “I saw some of your impressive buckles in your room. Your mom said there’s a lot more that you just dumped in a box and put away.”
“I had a good run there.”
“You couldn’t compete still? Not even at some pro-am type events?”
“Maybe. But unless the event was close to home, it wouldn’t make sense to do it. It’s just hard to leave the ranch. I can do it for a day, but a whole weekend? Not fair to Granddad.”
“You couldn’t hire more ranch hands? You’ve got a couple.”
“I actually meant I couldn’t leave my mom’s care to Granddad. It’s not fair to him.” He hesitated. “I’ve thought a lot about hiring Mom some help. It will probably be necessary down the road—”
“I can help her, Joe.”
“You’re not here to be a nurse, and I appreciate you offering, but that’s a definite no. It’s hard being a caretaker, and we’re going to have kids, and they’ll have activities, and you’re going to need a life, too.”
She rubbed her palm across his knee, the denim smooth, his body warm. “What about you?” she asked. “Don’t you need a life?”
His hand covered hers. His voice dropped, deepening, “Thanks to you, Sophie, I’ve now got one.”
*
It was cold when they stepped out of the truck on Main Street and walked to Grey’s Saloon, the wind an icy blast. Joe glanced up at the sky. Clouds had gathered, obscuring the moon. The weather had changed dramatically since this morning. He hadn’t paid attention to the weather report today, but he should have. He had a feeling temperatures were going to keep dropping and that wouldn’t be good with all the heifers ready to calve.
Part of him wanted to go home and check in on the pregnant cows they’d brought to the pasture nearest the house, and another part of him felt like he owed Sophie a drink and a night out. They didn’t have to stay out long, either. Just one beer, listen to a little music, and head home.
They found a table not far from the jukebox and they ordered drinks but Joe’s mind was elsewhere. Seeing Logan, talking about being a kid, remembering all the trouble he used to get in had stirred other memories, memories not as comfortable. Mom hadn’t been herself for years after they arrived in Montana. She hadn’t taken to bed, but she was numb. Shut down. She was there physically, but not emotionally, and some of Joe’s antics were to get his mom’s attention, and somehow make her love him again. He knew now that she hadn’t ever stopped loving him, or his brothers, but her grief was so big, and so consuming, she couldn’t be there for the boys. There was a stretch of time—four years, five—where she was just gone, and Granddad was doing everything for them, literally everything, and then his grandfather insisted his mother get counseling. Mom had been resistant but counseling helped, and she came back to them, little by little. Maybe that was why Joe was so glad to see her enjoying the wedding planning. He still remembered when she didn’t smile. He still remembered when she just sat at the kitchen table as if a marble statue.
“Hey,” Sophie said, extending a hand to him. “I’m Sophie Correia, and I’m new to Marietta. Who are you?”
He smiled and took her hand, giving it a shake. “Joe Wyatt. Ni
ce to meet you, Sophie. How are you liking Montana?”
“I like it. A lot.”
“Yeah?”
“Pretty state. Handsome cowboys.”
“You like cowboys?”
“Now I do,” she said.
“Anything else I should know? We’ve never discussed politics.”
“And I don’t think we need to. Politics remind me of faith. You have your views, I have mine, and we’re not going to try to convert the other.”
The corner of his mouth briefly lifted. “I have faith.”
“Good, me, too.”
“And I’m an American.”
“Me, too.”
“I love this country.”
“As do I,” Sophie answered, grinning back at him.
She was so dang cute. Big brown eyes, soft full mouth, a heart-shaped face. He could get lost in those eyes, and kiss that mouth for hours. There was a lot of things he wanted to do, and would do, when the time was ready.
He was ready.
She was the one not yet ready.
He sensed it had to do with Leo and the wedding that didn’t happen. Joe felt like there was more to the story.
He reached out and took her hand. “I know we’ve only been here a half hour, but I’m worried about the weather and some things I haven’t taken care of at the ranch. Would you mind if we finished this beer and headed back?”
“Not at all. I’ve got work tomorrow and I’m tired. I’m not used to fighting with you.”
“I hate fighting with you, but let’s face it, we’re not going to always see eye to eye, and I like that you can hold your own with me. Don’t ever feel like you can’t be yourself. I don’t expect you to be a parrot. I can be tough, and blunt, and sometimes difficult to please, but that’s not on you. That’s on me. It’s not your job to make me happy. It’s my job to make me happy. Got it?”
She leaned across the table and kissed him. “Got it. Now let’s go home.”
*
Sophie shivered as they walked quickly back to his truck, the icy whistling wind pushing them forward. “It’s freezing,” she said, teeth chattering. “And just two days ago it was really warm.”
“Montana weather for you,” Joe said, unlocking the truck.
She glanced up at the sky, squinting as if she could read something in the darkness before hopping into the truck. “Can you imagine the poor couple getting married tomorrow? You’d think it’s winter again.”
“Montanans expect bad weather. The good weather is a gift.” As he reversed out of the angled spot and then shifted into drive, he glanced at her. “And you’re a gift.”
For a moment, Sophie didn’t know what to say. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you’re happy—”
“I am, Joe, and I know it’s all still new and we’re both adjusting, but considering its only been a month since I arrived, I think we’re doing well.”
“I hope so.”
She cocked her head. “You have doubts?”
“I just know how much warmth you’ve brought to the ranch. Everything is just brighter, more hopeful. I’m more hopeful—”
“Good!” She leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. “That makes me happy.”
“We need you, Sophie.” His voice dropped. “I need you.”
“Well, you have me.”
“Not all of you,” he said, shooting her a look, his blue gaze intense. “But hopefully, soon.”
*
The house was dark when they arrived, and Mrs. Wyatt and Granddad were in bed. Even the dogs were too tired to get up and bark. Thankfully, the kitchen was still warm, and Sophie hung up her coat, and headed to the stove to put on the teakettle. “I’m going to make a cup of tea to take to bed with me. Want one?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather take you to bed with me.”
“We could,” she said, reaching for a mug. “If it made you feel better.” She knew immediately that wasn’t the right thing to say. Joe’s jaw hardened and his brow furrowed. “Sorry, that didn’t come out quite the way I meant it.”
“How did you mean it? Because everything you do turns me on and yet I get the feeling that you’re not sure about me.”
Suddenly, there was a spike in tension and Sophie only had herself to blame. “Sex is just going to be weird for me the first time. Maybe I shouldn’t say it that way, but you’re going to be the first person I’ve been with since Leo—”
“Oh, how I hate Leo.”
“Joe!”
“Just saying.”
“And before Leo, there wasn’t anyone else. He was my first. I don’t really have a lot of experience beyond Leo, and therefore not a lot of confidence—”
“Let’s just hope I don’t ever meet him. I’d—”
“No,” she said, cutting him off before he could say anything incriminating. “Leo’s not worth your time or energy. You don’t have to hate him. I don’t hate Charity.”
“Totally different situation.”
“How?”
“First of all, Charity was always honest with me. I knew when we started dating that she was someone raised in town, who loved living in town. Not everyone’s cut out for the ranch life, and she wasn’t.”
“But you guys got serious.”
“Yes, and for a long time we tried to make it work, but in the end, she wouldn’t have been happy on the ranch, and we both knew it. It would have been too lonely for her, too removed from her family and friends.”
“Even with your mom here?” Sophie asked.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I hated letting her go, but it was the right thing to do.”
“Did you ever get back together?”
“Many times, but then we’d break up again, and each breakup got harder. Each goodbye hurt more. During our final breakup we agreed to never call, email, or reach out to the other again. We vowed to never see each other again. And that was the end of it. Finally.”
The heaviness in his voice made her ache for him. “That had to have been hard.”
“Beyond hard.”
“And then when you decided you needed to move on, you vowed not to fall in love again, didn’t you?”
He shot her a sharp glance. “I vowed to find someone more independent, more self-sufficient. Someone who could be happy here. And I found you.”
“Through an ad.”
“But it worked.”
“We were both trying to be practical,” she said, using a hot pad to remove the whistling teakettle from the burner. “We wanted a mature, businesslike arrangement. No emotions involved.”
“Not sure we’ve been successful there. I’m finding it next to impossible not to feel things for you.”
Sophie lifted her head, looked at him. “Is that so?”
“You know it’s so. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
She held her smile, but inwardly her heart sank a little. He wanted her body. She wanted his heart. This definitely was more complicated than she’d imagined, because sex and love weren’t the same thing, but hopefully physical need could lead to other things… like love.
Hopefully.
“It’s late,” Joe said suppressing a yawn. “I’m going to be up early tomorrow. I suppose we should call it a night.”
Sophie picked up her steaming mug and Joe turned out the kitchen light. On the second floor outside Sophie’s room, Joe said, “Sunday it’ll be two weeks until wedding number two. We will survive until then?”
“I think so.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him, careful not to slosh her tea. “Good night, Joe.”
“Good night, Sophie. Sleep tight.”
*
Sophie didn’t see Joe Saturday morning before she headed into town to work. The weather had turned in the night, temperatures plummeting even lower. It began to rain as she drove down the mountain, and halfway down, the rain turned to a slushy sleet. She turned her windshield wipers up and cranked on her heater. It had been beautifu
l two days ago and now it felt like winter.
By noon, the rain turned to snow, and Sophie watched the fat flakes fall, jaw dropping in awe. She went to the big window in the salon to watch the snow tumble from the sky. It was beyond beautiful. She’d never lived anyplace where it snowed.
Amanda joined her briefly at the window. “Let me guess. Your first snow.”
“It’s magical,” Sophie breathed.
“Yes, but it’s also May second. We’re all getting a little sick of it.”
“But look, it’s so pretty. Everything is turning white.”
Amanda smiled and returned to her station. “We’ll see how you feel next January.”
The afternoon flew by. Sophie had expected a lot of cancellations due to the snow but no one cancelled. If anything, the phone wouldn’t stop ringing with clients asking about last-minute availability. But the day was over and Sophie was in the middle of closing the salon when Joe called. “It’s finally stopped snowing here,” he said. “How is it in town?”
“A beautiful powdery white,” she said. “Joe, there’s snow everywhere.”
He laughed. “I wondered if you’d be excited or terrified.”
“I love it. It’s so beautiful.”
“Be careful driving. Make sure you’re in four-wheel drive. Take it slow. No need to hurry.”
“I will. See you in a bit.”
Sophie hummed the whole way home, feeling giddy, and buoyant. The dogs raced out to greet her and she didn’t stiffen quite as much. She even managed to pat a few big heads before disappearing into the house. She peeled off her coat and hung it on the hook by the back door but stopped when she heard Joe and his grandfather talking. Their conversation sounded serious, something about two more calves lost, and how they had to be extra vigilant tomorrow.
Sophie entered the kitchen just as Granddad walked out. Joe was still leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest. He’d recently showered, his brown hair was dark and wet, but he was wearing a heavy sweater over his shirt, and he had boots on again. He smiled when he saw her but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
