by Taylor Hart
“Yeah.” Cam stood next to her, following her gaze.
Slowly, she took a few steps into the living room.
“You can look around if you want. I don’t have the same rules about the big house.”
He looked weird. Something didn’t feel right. “They let you use the whole house?”
Looking away from her, he gestured to the outside. “Yep. Just treat it like my own.”
This was incredible. Most owners wanted the caretakers to stay out of the house as much as possible, except to have it cleaned and to check on it. “Do they have another little house?” She took a couple of more steps into the living room to look out at the property.
“Nope.” Cam’s hand was gently on her back. “C’mon, let me show you the song.”
Kat let him guide her down the hall, ignoring the way his touch affected her. The air was cool and fresh; the AC must have been on recently. The hallway wrapped around into the center of the house, leading to a large door painted reddish brown.
Cam pushed open the door, and Kat couldn’t help but admire the light in here too. This room took up one whole side of the house, and Kat could see the north-facing side of the property. There was a pool, hot tub, and corrals. The room itself, painted teal blue, was decorated with drawings of horses and guitars. It took her breath away. Putting her hand against her chest, she moved toward the windows like a moth drawn to a flame. This wasn’t just someone’s house. This room felt personal.
“Do you like it?” His voice was husky and quiet. He’d followed her to the windows, but stood a bit back from her.
For some strange reason, tears welled up in her eyes, and she shook her head and sniffed. “It’s incredible.”
Cam moved next to her, lightly touching her shoulder and gazing with her over the property. “When I first saw the house, I …” He broke off.
Turning to him, she was confused at why he stopped talking. “What?” she pressed.
Surprising her, he blinked and then turned back to the main room. “I’ve always wanted a home like this. That’s all.”
She scoffed. “But you grew up living on a ranch, right?”
Grabbing a guitar, he sat on a piano bench. “Yeah, but my home is nothing like this. My sister’s done well with it, but it’s an old ranch house. This is a home …” He trailed off, looking past her to the windows. “This is a home you could just sit in and never leave, ya know? Sit in and enjoy the beauty all around you. Plus, it has horses.” The side of his lip tugged up.
Completely at ease, she moved closer to him and took a seat in one of the plush couches. There was no reason to, other than the fact that they were doing the stupid connecting thing again—the one where they felt the same thing at the same time. “Exactly.”
Hesitating briefly, Cam held her gaze and strummed the guitar. “It’s called Pain and Fire.”
It shouldn’t have impressed her that he was good. But he was. She thought he must be a deep tenor. His voice was like rich, smooth honey being poured over the distinctly country tune.
Rapid fire, loose on the river, dumped in, wet clothes.
Can’t see, can’t breathe, must feel my way out of this reality,
Then her lips, like fire on the water, so close, pain and fire.
How do I tell her she’s more beautiful to me, than anything I’ve ever seen.
Can’t hold her, can’t love her, because she’s untouchable to me.
The smell of her, the taste I can’t get out of my mind, and I don’t want to lose it.
Like a storm rolling in,
Coming and going like the wind,
You never promised more than you could give,
But it wasn’t enough, and it was more than anything.
Pain and fire …
By the end, Kat had tears streaming down her face. Stupid, traitorous tears. Miserably, she wiped at her face, hating the fact she knew the song was about her.
Putting down the guitar, he kept his eyes locked with hers. “You like it?”
What was changing inside of her? Making little rips in her perfectly concocted life? She sniffed. “I love it.” Happiness spread through her chest. “I’m so … it was so good.”
He looked away and seemed uncomfortable.
She laughed. “You’re embarrassed?” She found this funny coming from this spunky, larger-than-life kind of guy.
Turning back, he laughed. “Am not.” He stuck his tongue out as he stood.
This made her laugh harder, but she quickly stopped. She knew how hard it was to work at something for so long and just want to share it with someone. “Seriously, I liked it.”
Cam snorted. “You’re just saying that.”
“No, I’m not.”
He let out a sigh. “I do believe you.” He motioned to the door. “C’mon, let’s go for a ride.”
Chapter 16
It wouldn’t suit Cam not to have a relationship with this woman, he decided as he watched her ride up ahead of him. Luckily, she’d worn the same boots from last night with a pair of jeans, so they hadn’t had to worry about wardrobe. He admired her long blond braid and thought of her sun-kissed face with its delightful smattering of freckles. He felt all of these wonderful feelings that had began expanding yesterday.
Which shouldn’t happen. She had a boyfriend. Fake fiancé. Something like that, he reminded himself. And she had worn the fake ring today, he’d noticed. He should end things. After she left, he should never see her again.
What had Sterling said yesterday? “Cameron Cruz doesn’t play backup.” Yet here he was, and he was thinking about playing backup. Yes, he was a fighter, even though he hadn’t felt like one lately. Coming here and hiding out had withered him.
His sister was right; he wasn’t meant to be a moody songwriter. He grinned, thinking about the song he’d written about Kat.
“Hey.” She turned back. “What are you grinning about?”
Kicking his heels lightly into Sugar’s side, he caught up to her. “Nothing.”
She matched his expression. “Really? Because that didn’t look like a ‘nothing’ grin.”
Avoiding the question, he said, “I can tell you’ve ridden before. You’re a natural.”
“Well, I didn’t grow up on a ranch, but Grandpa had horses. He taught me to ride.”
“Tell me about him.”
As they guided the horses into a slow walk along the outside of the ranch, a warm smile touched Kat’s lips. “He owned the guide shop, but he spent a lot of time with me when I came in the summers. We went rafting and riding, but … well, I think what I miss the most about him is just being with him. He was big on spending time with me every day. Talking, laughing, dreaming.” She paused. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
Liking the fact that she was blushing, he waved a dismissive hand in the air. “You’re telling me because I’m your friend, Kat.”
Catching his eyes, she narrowed hers. “Are you?”
He chuckled. “Why, yes I am.”
Breaking eye contact, she swept her gaze across the property. “I just don’t want you to think I can give you something I can’t.”
Swallowing hard, Cam knew she was right. “I don’t want anything,” he lied.
She cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t?”
“Pshaw, I wouldn’t date you if you begged.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s good.”
“Tell me more about your grandfather,” he pressed.
She sighed. “He was funny. So funny. We were always laughing. He loved country music.”
“Yes …?”
“The Snake River. Horses. He also loved thinking about how to solve the world’s problems. He was very active in the community. Did you know that the guide shop donated two weeks every summer, in prime money-making season, to host Special Olympics kids?”
“No.” He was impressed. “I didn’t know that.”
She sighed. “I think he’s the whole reason I’m doing my dissertation on t
his project.”
“Right. The dissertation. This thing that’s taking all your time.”
“Right.”
“What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“C’mon, tell me what it’s about.”
Giving him a serious look, she rapidly blinked. “I cannot take teasing about this.”
Now he was really interested. “Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers.
“Right.”
“Tell me. Please.”
After waiting a couple of seconds, she nodded. “Okay. I am getting my PhD in—”
“Urban studies,” he filled in for her.
“You listened?”
“Of course.”
“Okay—and I’ve been researching all these studies about what creates the greatest impact on inner-city kids. What single thing gets them out of poverty?” She paused, waiting for him to guess.
“I’ll bite. Tell me.”
“Exposure.”
“Okay.”
“Seriously, it sounds silly, but there was one study done by this guy, and he found that simply taking this group of kids out of the ghetto for one day a month for two years made a huge difference. This whole group ended up graduating from high school and going to college. Later, when they were asked why, do you want to know what they all said in one form or other?”
“What?”
“Experiences. The trips to the museums, a ski trip, a trip to a ranch and riding horses, the theater … doing things and seeing outside of the world they lived in gave them hope.”
The way her eyes lit up, Cam knew he was falling in love with this woman.
“I contend that nature is the number one thing. Give kids opportunities to be in nature. Feel the river beneath you: the serenity, the calm, the whisper. It can be so holy. Go to a ranch and work with the horses for a while. It … changes kids. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You just had this weird look.”
“I like it.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. It makes sense.”
She nodded. “It does. That’s what I tell Steven, but he isn’t one hundred percent convinced.”
Cam’s gut tightened. He didn’t say anything.
“But he’s still asking this professor for help with donors,” she said quickly.
“Why isn’t he convinced?”
“He thinks I should focus on cultural events, not nature.”
Cam thought about the Junto group.
“I’ve read over twenty-six different studies done on how to help at-risk kids. This is what all my research is based on. I’ve pinpointed the activities that kids said had the most impact.”
“What are you proposing?”
“Starting a program in Denver, using five different determining factors to show which kids are most at risk, and then getting thirty students and taking them to nature. We would start with them in ninth grade and take them all the way to graduation. We’d go on some weekends and for most of the summer. The goal is to measure outcomes—to see if we can get the girls not to get pregnant, and the boys not to join gangs. Ultimately go to college, become productive citizens.”
“How much funding do you need?”
She hesitated, then laughed. “You’re funny.”
“How much?”
“One hundred thousand.”
He didn’t respond.
“I know. It’s crazy, right?”
“I don’t think it’s crazy at all.”
She seemed embarrassed. “Okay, let’s talk about something else.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like it’s getting personal.”
He shook off the seriousness and laughed. “Okay, let’s talk about how all you can think about are those kisses from yesterday.”
A light laugh came out of her, followed by a mock smile. “You wish.”
He didn’t respond.
She cleared her throat. “So, tell me about your dad. How are you dealing?”
He shrugged. “I’m dealing fine.” His voice had taken on a hard edge.
“You are?”
Turning to her, he saw something in her eyes. Noticing that she’d brought Harper to a stop, he nudged Sugar to come up alongside. “What?”
Reaching out, she squeezed his hand. “As your friend, I want you to know that it gets better. Every day. Every week, month, and year. It’s been three years since my grandfather passed, and it’s been hard. He was my ‘person.’”
Nodding, Cam stared down at her hand. He liked this contact, but he focused on what she was saying. “I do know.” He sighed. “It is getting easier.”
She pulled back her hand, kicking Harper’s sides. Turning, she said, “C’mon, slowpoke. Tell me about your dad.”
Laughing, he caught up with her, and they fell into another slow trot. “My dad and I worked side by side our whole lives. When I grew up, we bought franchises together. Little ones like pizza places, gas stations, and a bunch of other companies.”
“So you’re a businessman too.” Her eyebrows went up.
He sat up straighter. “Don’t I look like a businessman?”
Giving him a wistful glance, she grinned. “Not really.”
Loving that she really thought he was just a songwriter, he grinned. “Well, too bad, Katherine Foster. I happen to make money too. Does this mean we can’t be friends?”
“Hey.” She put a hand to her chest. “This just means I won’t feel bad when I charge you full price on a canoe trip and get full commission.”
He laughed. “Yeah, don’t ever let that trouble you.”
“Tell me more.”
Relaxing, he tilted his head to the side. “He had a strong work ethic. My dad tells … told.” He paused, then continued. “Told this story about how he found a twenty-dollar bill when he was a kid walking down the street with some of his buddies. When he got home, he showed his dad, who told him he needed to take it back, that someone would be looking for that twenty-dollar bill. So he did. Honesty was ground into us. Hard work. Honesty. Trust.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “We would sit in his study at night and read the Bible. I told you my mother passed in childbirth, but Dad never remarried. The random do-gooder would try to fix him up, but he always said my mom had ruined him.” Cam smiled, realizing how nice it felt to talk about his dad. “He was a romantic. He believed in true love. He read the Bible and Shakespeare.” He laughed. “It sounds kinda weird, I guess.”
“No it doesn’t,” Kat said quickly. “It sounds like there’s a reason you’re so poetic.”
Holding her eyes, once again Cam felt that warmth blossom in the center of his chest. “And he was service oriented.”
She blinked. “What?”
“My dad,” he whispered. He cleared his throat, thinking how much his dad would have liked Kat. “Growing up, my dad always had us helping adjacent ranches, and the widows in our church. He’d donate our time to any cause we could get involved with.”
She grinned. “That’s cool.”
He nodded. “It was.” The desire to fund her project was growing stronger inside of him.
The problem with being friends with Katherine Foster was that he did like her as a friend. At the same time, the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know about her. He felt like a man that had been stuck in the desert; now he needed water, wanted to drench himself with it, fill himself. He couldn’t get enough of her.
They fell into a relaxed silence as they took another loop of the ranch and headed back.
She pointed to the Crew Ranch. “Who lives there?”
“Oh.” He searched Crew’s property, grateful they hadn’t run into him. “Montana Crew.”
“What? The country singer?”
Exasperated, he grinned. “I thought you didn’t have a television. How do you know about him?”
She flashed him a grin. “Just because I don’t wat
ch the news or any junk news about people who think they’re important, doesn’t mean I don’t listen to country music.” She winked at him. “I can appreciate a good musician. I can appreciate you, after all.” Kicking her heels into the horse, she took off in a run. “Race you back!”
Immediately kicking his heels into Sugar, he took off after her, laughing. “Cheater!” He didn’t even care if she won. He just liked how she’d winked at him.
Chapter 17
Half an hour later, Cam had talked Kat into soaking in the hot tub, wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of his shorts. She giggled, loving how warm and fuzzy she felt, loving how the sun was beginning to set in orange and red and pink glory.
Cam slid into the hot tub next to her. She tried not to notice his six-pack or how he was so close their shoulders were touching. Still, she found herself scooting away from him a bit.
He grinned.
“What?”
Biting his lip, he shook his head. “You just act like I have cooties or something.”
“I just like my space.”
Another lazy grin washed over his face. “Promise I won’t bite.”
“I know you won’t bite.” The words came out before she could stop them. “Because we’re just friends, right?” She was saying it more to reassure herself, and to keep the lure of his fresh laundry scent at bay.
A laugh escaped him. “You seem kind of worried about it, Kat.”
Her head jerked up to face him. “I’m not worried about it.” But he did unnerve her. Not to mention the fact that Steven had told her he needed to think about things. Something didn’t feel right, and she wasn’t sure if it was her or if she was plugged into something going on with Steven.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. “There’s a term in football—”
“Right, I forgot you’re a football guy.”
He lifted his hand, holding up four fingers. “I played all four years in high school.”
“Something to put on your résumé.”
