His Firecracker (A Her Choice Story)

by Megan McCoy

  “Oh, that sounds gorgeous,” Rayne said. “The cake can be white buttercream with gray piping and pink rosebuds, sort of like this one, only in your colors. How many layers do you want?” They talked cake while they ate. Rayne was surprised how good the seafood filling inside her croissant tasted. The roll itself flaked and tasted buttery and light. She needed to add this to her lunch sandwich menu, if the cost was feasible.

  “When is your family coming to town?” she asked Liz.

  “A few days before the wedding,” she said. “I only have my two brothers and their wives. Our folks passed away a while back.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Rayne said. “But at least they will be here for you.”

  “How about you?” Liz asked. “Any brothers or sisters or?”

  Rayne shook her head. “Just little ol’ me. It's why I like the kitchen so much. After a while, everyone in there seems like family.”

  Liz nodded. “I could see that. A lot of pressure in a kitchen and that means team time when everyone tries to get it done.”

  “Yeah, and while it is, sometimes I don’t handle it as well as I should,” referring to her blow up at Liz she still felt badly about.

  “Try planning a wedding,” Liz said, dryly. They both giggled and Rayne felt as if she’d made a new friend. She just hoped she could keep her. Keeping friends was much harder than making them.

  A few minutes later, she headed back to her car. She’d seen a clothing store around the corner and wanted to go see if there was anything new and fresh she could get for tonight.

  A wave of sadness swept over her. Why? Why should she bother and spend money she needed for other things?

  She had clothes.

  He wasn’t going to want to go out with her again, if he even wanted to go out tonight. He probably just was following up to see if she was behaving. It probably wasn’t a real date anyway. Why would he want to date someone like her? She couldn’t think of a reason. This was probably more of a check in with the new chef meeting than a date.

  She felt grateful she hadn’t mentioned anything to Liz about a date. It would be so mortifying to say date and find out business meeting.

  Driving home, she decided to dress down. Business casual. Not dressy date. That would work. It wasn’t like she was going to sleep with him or anything tonight anyway. First date, no. Second date, no. Hell, she’d never slept with any man. No reason to. Why did she think he could be her first? Because he kissed her and made her knees weak and panties damp? Well. that. But still.

  Instead of going to the clothing store, she headed home. Back to the ranch. She’d order the blackboard on line, then take a shower and wear her good jeans, boots, and that emerald jewel toned blouse she liked so much. It looked good with her hair, and was comfortable. She had the feeling that comfortable was going to be needed tonight.

  Cole checked the big wall clock hanging in the barn. The latest trail riders would be heading in soon, and they were the last group of the day. He’d get the horses unsaddled, brushed down and let back out in the pasture for the night. It was odd how they all seemed to know it was the last ride and they all walked a little bit faster, heading to the barn.

  Walking outside, he found Matt waiting by the mounting station ready to help the clients off when they arrived. Funny how getting on and of the horses were such a big deal to tenderfoots. “Who’s leading?” he asked. “Thought it was you.”

  “Gabe wanted to lead, so I let him. Bunch of women in the group and figured they’d enjoy the eye candy,” Matt grinned. “So how are you settling in? Any issues?”

  “Glad to be out of the kitchen for the most part,” Cole said.

  “Except for wanting to hang out with the chef,” Matt teased. “Liz told me how you were looking at her the other day.”

  “Looking at her, like what?” Cole asked astonished.

  “Hell, I don’t know. Women. She thought there might be something going on there,” Matt said, shading his eyes and looking down the trail where the riders should be coming from.

  “I haven’t even known her a week,” Cole said. “She’s a pretty thing though, and I don’t mind she’s a firecracker. Doesn’t make her much fun to work with, but a lot of fun to play with. At least I hope so,” he added hastily.

  Matt laughed. “Well, good luck with that. There is something fun about breaking and taming a filly.”

  Cole couldn’t help grinning back. “It’s a true fact, brother,” he said.

  “Dad wants to talk to you sometime in the next day or two,” Matt said, casually.

  “What about, do you know?”

  Matt shrugged. “Pretty sure he wants to see how long you’re staying. If you’re going to want a cabin or stay in the bunkhouse or what. Whatever you do, don’t move into our old room back in the den. Dad and Candy can’t seem to behave at all. Hope that settles down soon, but right now, man, they’re obnoxious.”

  Cole laughed. He hadn’t thought of moving into the main house, or the Lyon’s Den as everyone called it. He and Matt had shared a room for over five years growing up in that house. When he thought of home, he thought of this ranch and that room, but that was his old life. He’d never thought of going back to specifically there.

  His dad, Jeb’s brother, had died in a car accident. His mom had been driving, and was sent to jail for being way over the limit and a few other things he never understood. He’d come to live with Rose and Jeb, and Matt, when he was ten. When his mom got out of jail, six years later, she showed up one day with papers saying he had to go with her, and took him away. They’d gone to live in West Virginia, where she said no one knew her or what she had done. He’d heard from his mom that Rose had passed, but they didn’t go back for the funeral. She’d said they wouldn’t be welcome. She passed away from cancer three years after that, and he’d gone off to the Navy. Being young and self-absorbed, it didn’t even occur to him to contact Jeb and Matt.

  Once he got a little bit of maturity, he realized that probably wasn’t true they’d be unwelcome at the funeral, at least on his part, but there was nothing he could do about it now. After he grew up some, he’d realized they were home. He had been overwhelmed to know he was right.

  “I’m taking Rayne out to dinner tonight, then I’ll go see the old man and we can have a board meeting on the boat,” Cole told Matt.

  “Sure you won’t be spending the night elsewhere,” Matt teased.

  “Yeah, pretty darn sure,” Cole said. “Aren’t the riders overdue?”

  Matt pointed down the trail. “I see some dust. They’re on their way now. Should be here in a couple minutes.”

  Glad for a distraction, Cole put on his hat and his cowboy smile, and a few minutes later, started helping women off the horses and then leading the horses to the stable while the women chattered about how great their ride was and their plans for the night. What was it with women and horses? They just went nuts over them. Power between their legs was the reigning theory but he had no clue.

  Did Rayne like horses?

  Maybe they’d go riding tonight. In fact, he hadn’t decided what they were doing. “Grab something to eat and talk” was pretty generic. He’d just play it by ear and see what happened. By the time he, Matt and couple of the hands finished with the horses, he still hadn’t figured it out. Maybe he’d take her back to that bar where he spent his first night in town. Or they could grab something and go out for a walk. Maybe she wanted to ride a horse. Or go for a swim.

  Oh, hell, he knew what he was doing.

  After cleaning up, he went back to the barn, where Clint, one of the hands, had hooked up a horse to the buggy Candy had gotten a while back for romantic rides.

  He’d never driven a buggy, but how hard could it be? Clint gave him a few pointers and seemed grateful when Cole reassured him that he’d take care of the horse, and Clint didn’t have to wait up for him.

  He headed the horse down the path to the mess hall where Rayne lived. Maybe he should have texted her and told her he was on
the way.

  Since he knew Rayne was off, he’d called Mariah and asked for a few things. She’d been pleased to help out.

  Pulling up in front of her house, he tied the horse quickly to the tree and went in the kitchen door. “Mariah, so glad to see you again,” he said. He was. Some of his best memories were helping her, and Rose, in the gardens and kitchens. It was where his love of cooking came from. Of course, the Navy tried real hard to kill that love, but they didn’t quite succeed.

  Mariah hugged him hard. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she said. “Welcome home.”

  “Good to be home. I’ll come chat more tomorrow, but,” he smiled, sheepishly at her.

  “But now you want your picnic food. Here you go, and don’t forget you promised to come by tomorrow.”

  “I won’t. Then you can tell me how the granddaughter is, okay?” Mariah had been gone two weeks to help her daughter with her granddaughter, but he’d never heard specifically why.

  “Looking forward to it. You still a half tea half lemonade boy?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, picking up the box she’d left out for him. “See you tomorrow,” he called, “And thank you.”

  “Have fun, be safe,” she called back and he grinned. She’d said that to them every time he and Matt headed out. Sometimes the nostalgia overwhelmed him.

  But he was home now. No need to feel homesick.

  Taking the ten steps over to Rayne’s door, he knocked loudly. Then again, and then heard steps to the door.

  Looking her over, he tried to say something. Her curvy figure filled out her jeans and that green shirt made her skin glow and her eyes sparkle. She looked great, and she smelled good too. Today seemed to be Shy Rayne, but he hoped he could sooth her out of that soon. He rather liked the firecracker side of her.

  “Hello, Rayne,” smiling down at her, he grabbed her hand. “Ready to go?”

  Nodding, she stepped back inside to grab a small bag. Why did women always have to carry half their life around with them? He should be used to it by now.

  “I am,” she said, and dropped her eyes, not looking at him.

  Chapter 8

  Rayne couldn’t believe that she was sitting in an actual horse and buggy with an actual cute hot male. She wanted to sing. Truthfully, she wanted Cole to sing to her like the men did in romantic musicals. He probably didn’t sing and probably didn’t like musicals, which were one of her secret passions.

  She looked over at Cole “This is amazing,” she breathed. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “It is fun, isn’t it?” He said, and pushed his hat back on his head. “Don’t you feel like a heroine in an old historical western?”

  “Nah, none of them wore jeans or had strawberry blonde hair,” she flipped her back and shot him a smile.

  “Here I thought it was red,” he said.

  “Oh heck no. Red is so... common,” she giggled. “I became a strawberry blonde when I got my culinary school degree. It seemed to suit my new station.”

  “Whatever gets you through the day,” he said, and slapped the reins against the horse to put him in a trot once they got on paved road.

  “Well, since my hair’s usually up in a knot, it really doesn’t affect my day,” she said and leaned against him, hoping he didn’t mind. The buggy was small and made closeness easy. This was lovely. The air was warm and smelled heavily like piney forest. People paid money for their houses to smell like this.

  They were headed down a path she’d not been on before. She hadn’t explored very much of the ranch at all, in fact and looked forward to seeing what all there was to see.

  “Where are we headed?” She asked him, making conversation. The silence was nice, but she wanted to hear his voice.

  “You in a hurry to get somewhere?” he teased.

  “No, just curious if we had a destination or just got to hang out in the buggy, which I love,” she said, and sighed as he put his arm around her. Yes, she liked being close to him. Loved the thrill of nerves and the way he made her heart pound. She felt like a teenager again. Not that she’d dated much as a teenager, but still. She remembered the feeling.

  “I thought we’d drive down by the lake and then have a little picnic. Mariah made us some food. No clue what she made, but, should be good,” he smiled down at her.

  Frowning, she said, “I could have made us food. You didn’t have to bother Mariah.”

  “I didn’t bother her, I asked her,” he said. “And it's your day off. Next time you can cook for us, okay? Matt said the dinner you made for them the other night was wonderful.”

  That made her relax a little. She didn’t know why she got so defensive all of a sudden, but it was probably just an offshoot of the nerves that were still zinging through her.

  “How did you get into cooking?” Matt asked her.

  Cooking. She could talk about cooking.

  “My dad was a truck driver and was always coming home with something, things stores were throwing out, and had overstock that he got for a good price. My mom was a nurse who worked all the time, and I was home alone a lot. I started experimenting with the different things he brought home, brought cookbooks home from the library and tried recipes. When I got older, I got online and started watching videos and learned how to do things. Instead of going to regular college, I went straight to culinary school. Cooking is all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  “You worked a lot of places?” He asked.

  “Too many,” she gave a short laugh. “How about you? How did you learn how to cook?”

  “Right here. When I came to live here, my world had been turned upside down. My dad had died, and my mom... well, my mom was in jail. Jeb and Rose took me in, and I started hanging out in the kitchen with Rose and Mariah.” He paused.

  Rayne felt shocked. In jail? Had she killed his dad or what? Drugs? Well, she could find that out later. Probably a sore subject. “Did I hear you were in the Navy?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Over ten years. Cooked a bunch of then, too, and did some other things.”

  He was the vaguest man she’d ever met. So many things she didn’t feel comfortable asking him about.

  Yet?

  “Okay, here we are.” Matt stopped at a Y in the road. “Right or left, your choice, they both get us somewhere.”

  “Left,” she said decisively. “Is left the road less traveled?”

  “Don’t know,” he said. “Been a while since I’ve been down this way. I do know Jeb laid out all the trails so eventually they lead back to the ranch. Don’t want any clients getting lost and wandering the woods. We aren’t a corn maze.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that,” she said, watching him turn the horse down the left. Apparently, the horse thought right was the proper way to go, and had a bit of a tantrum, turning the other way. It was probably the way he went on the trail rides daily, she realized.

  “It's okay, we can go right,” she said, a bit anxiously, watching the big brown horse trying to turn the other way.

  “Nope, he’s not the boss. I am, and I decide what’s happening when,” Cole said firmly in a voice that made her shiver. Not with fear or nerves, but with something close to anticipation. Why did she want his reins on her? It was ridiculous. Of course, she didn’t. Within a minute, he had the horse trotting down the left lane and she was squirming in her seat. Without raising his voice or being mean, he’d gotten the horse to think it was just fine to go the ‘wrong’ way down the trail.

  They went along in silence for another half mile, when they came out by the lake. She’d caught glimpses of the lake from her dining room window. The beach seemed lovely and very popular. There were paddleboats, powerboats, rowboats, and a small swimming area with a dock that seemed to attract bikinis. This spot though, seemed secluded, with a few picnic tables scattered around a small glade. A tiny gazebo sat close to the water’s edge. She hoped they could eat there.

  “It's gorgeous,” she said, looking around at all the serene beauty. “I
think this is going to be one of my favorite places to get away from it all.”

  He jumped out of the buggy and held out his hand to help her down. Blushing, she cursed her fair skin, because it was easy to tell, accepting his hand and letting him guide her. Nice. This must have been the old-fashioned equivalent of opening the car door. Hastily, she pulled her hand away from his. Embarrassed she started talking about the lake, just to focus on something else beside his utter maleness.

  “What’s the name of the lake?” She asked him. Why didn’t she know that?

  “Placid Lake,” he said, looking over it.

  “Isn’t that a movie with people-eating alligators?”

  “I don’t know, is it? I do know there aren’t alligators in here, but lots of bass and bluegill. Couple catfish. You like to fish?” He grabbed her hand firmly again, and headed down toward the lake.

  “Never been,” she said. “Will the horse be okay?”

  “Worried about getting stuck out here with me or having to walk back?” he teased.

  “Yeah,” she said, vaguely.

  “I’ll take care of you,” he promised. “Try not to worry, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” she said. She wasn’t really worried, though. Nervous. Anticipatory. Anxious. Why did she feel like a giddy teenager around this guy? It was ridiculous.

  “Want to take a short hike?” He looked down at her feet.

  “I have walking shoes on,” she said, lifting up one to show him.

  “Good thinking,” he said, and she felt ridiculously happy to have worn good walking shoes, thus pleasing him. Shaking her head, she felt a niggle of irritation with herself. She didn’t need to want to please him so badly. It was nonsense. What was he to her? Nothing but a nice afternoon, off.

  That eased her nerves a little and they headed down the path, toward the lake. He grabbed her hand companionably and she smiled at him.

  “This ranch is so pretty,” she said. “So well taken care of, and every place is so inviting.”

  “Takes a lot of work to keep it this way,” he said. “People look at pictures and say, that looks so serene, and what they don’t see is all the mowing and weeding and path maintenance and all the sweat equity that goes into making it that way.