So what happened between the confusion and angst of a budding fragile opening to a potential relationship and the happily ever after part?
“I have no idea,” Becca muttered, throwing her notebook across the room and snapping out the bedside lamp. “I have no idea how to even date, let alone be a girlfriend.”
Romance novel writing didn’t appear to be very lucrative either.
Especially when the writer couldn’t get words down on the page.
Chapter 11
“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
—Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Late the next morning, just as the chocolately brownies were coming out of the oven, Nick Walton telephoned. Aunt Rayne handed the phone to Becca.
“Who is it?” she whispered, suddenly, desperately, not wanting it to be Pete.
Aunt Rayne lifted her eyebrows and then smiled. “It’s only Nick.”
Only Nick. Safe Nick. Dependable Nick. Steady, faithful, loyal Nick. He sounded like an Eagle Scout. Well, Nick Walton probably was an Eagle Scout.
“Hey, Nick,” she said into the receiver, more friendly than she’d been to him since she’d arrived. “What a coincidence. I’ve got brownies for you.”
“Brownies?” she heard him start with surprise. “What’s the occasion?”
She couldn’t admit the real reason. They’d never talked about their friendship, only ever taken it for granted. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. She figured it would embarrass him anyway.
“Well,” she said, trying to laugh at herself. “You know me and my relationship with chocolate. I woke up with a hankering to bake and out came brownies.”Hankering? she wondered with a slight cringe. When did I start speaking Snow Valley dialect?
Becca cleared her throat. “Then I remembered how much you like brownies with nuts and caramel and thought I’d share a plate.”
“That sounds great.” His voice relaxed. Some of the weird vibes between them melted away. Had Nick been worried about their friendship, too?
Becca’s face turned warm with guilt. She hadn’t exactly been friendly. More like avoiding Nick, hanging around the firefighters when they came in at night. When they packed up their trucks in the morning, or hand-delivered their lunches. Basking in the glow of Captain Wade’s eyes when he turned her direction. Asking him seriously silly questions about the fire.
What a sap she was.
Aunt Rayna would probably just call her inexperienced and naive.
When the shoe fit . . .
Nick cleared his throat, and then went on in his quiet, deep voice. “We haven’t had any riders lately from the B&B and the horses need exercise. Want to help me stretch their legs?”
Was that all? She and Nick had done this every week for years.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll pack up some brownies and water bottles.”
“See you in ten minutes.”
Becca hung up the phone and her hand flew to her hair. She’d washed her hair last night and slept in braids.
“Going riding with Nick,” she said when Aunt Rayna came in from the garage with her grocery list.
“Good idea,” her aunt said. “Must be all the activities going on in town. All our guests are gone during the day and most evenings, too.” With a grin, she added, “Even Elmer Cook is finally enjoying his family reunion.”
“Ha! Good! I hope his grandkids hang all over him and force him into giving them piggy-back rides.” Galloping to her bedroom, Becca snapped off the rubber bands and unraveled her braids. With hard strokes, she brushed out her hair. It was wavy and thick and hung down her back, but the waves from those braids made her look about sixteen again. Or twelve like a kid. Oh, well, she’d leave it down, no time to braid them up again, although she stuck an elastic in her pocket for a ponytail later.
She was silly to think Captain Wade might be interested. Wade Kinsella might flirt, but he didn’t take her seriously. The thought was a little sad, but it didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought it might a week ago.
After pulling on jeans and boots, she changed into a crisp, airy blouse. It was going to be a warm afternoon. But at the last minute she grabbed a sweater and tied it around her waist, then jammed a baseball cap on her head.
Aunt Rayna had already packed up a plastic container of the brownies so they wouldn’t get smashed, a couple of apples, and water bottles.
“Thanks,” Becca said, giving a wave of her hand when she spotted Nick leading the horses into the yard and skirting the yellow tents.
Nick pushed back his cowboy hat and lifted his hand in greeting.
Suddenly, Becca felt shy around him again. Their rocky start this summer had been silly, but she couldn’t help it. He looked at her intently for a moment, then, without speaking again, checked the saddle on Honey, the older mare.
“Need help?” Nick asked.
“Getting up you mean? No. I got it.” To prove it, Becca stuck her left foot in the stirrup and then hefted herself up, swinging her right leg over. Honey, the mare, was steady as a boulder in a creek. “Good girl,” she murmured, patting the horse.
Watching her, Nick nodded as she settled into the saddle and clasped the reins in her hands. “Have you ridden lately?”
“Nope. Not since I last rode with you right here in Snow Valley. But I got up here easier than I expected.”
He nodded slowly again, as if with approval, but his face didn’t give away any emotion. Was he being shy again? Or had his sympathies toward her disappeared? Becca wondered if she was just some girl Nick used to know. A neutral body to help him exercise Honey.
The thought made her unreasonably melancholy. She reminisced about everything they used to do together—often with his little sister tagging along. Chores, swimming in the creek on the back of his family’s property, movies, ice -cream, tag, kick-the-can, sparklers, dinner at each other’s houses where sometimes they laughed so hard they snorted milk out their noses. Painting fences for Aunt Rayna, cleaning out the barn for Nick’s dad.
Why did all those memories seem like they belonged to someone else now? As if it all happened a lifetime ago.
“Hey, Becca,” Nick said now, and she suddenly realized it was the first time he’d said her name out loud since she got here two weeks ago. “Do you mind if it’s a longer ride than normal? My dad wants me to check the fences out on the perimeter by the highway. We lost a couple of head of cattle. Don’t know if it’s a faulty fence line or rustlers, or even wolves.”
“Have there ever been cattle thieves or rustlers in Snow Valley?”
“Off and on over the years. Not too worried about it, but thought I’d go see if there’s any evidence.” Nick made kissing noises at the horses and they walked out of the yard and onto the road, heading northwest out of town.
“Is it dangerous?” Becca asked, guiding the horse with a light hand. “Like if they saw us, they might confront us or get violent?”
Nick shook his head, and then smiled reassuringly. “No. They only come in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t be hanging around waiting to be caught. Especially not with all the traffic in and out of Snow Valley this week. If there are rustlers, they’ll lay low until the summer quiets down again. And then strike when we’re off our guard.”
“Have you or your father ever caught anyone?”
“Once when I was a kid my dad did. Sheriff Carter hauled the guy off. Thief said he was working alone, but that was probably a lie. Paid bail and never seen again.”
There was a pause of silence, and then Becca remarked, “Gorgeous day isn’t it?”
“Best summer day we’ve had yet.” Nick pointed up a slope to a copse of trees. “Let’s head that way. Think you can get Honey to trot?”
“Um, sure.”
“She’ll follow my horse, no worries.”
Sure enough, when Nick kicked the black gelding’s sides and the horse lunged up
the slope, Becca’s horse followed. The bumping and swaying surprised her. Wow, it really had been a long time since she’d ridden the mare.
Hot sunshine poured along her shoulders while she gripped the animal’s sides with her legs and let Honey follow Nick.
They rode in silence for a mile or so, weaving in and out of the pine trees along the back perimeter of the Walton ranch.
“Good girl,” Becca told Honey, smoothing her hands along the animal’s neck. She’d forgotten how great it was to ride—to get away from civilization. Even if it was only a few miles. She’d spent too many years in a city with concrete, busses, and thousands of college co-eds taking over every restaurant, theater, coffee shop, library carrel, and study lab.
The silence was peaceful, luxurious, the smell of the trees sweet. The ash and smoke had pretty much disappeared now. Captain Wade had told Aunt Rayna last night that they’d probably only be here a few more days. The crews had been cut again. About a third of the full team.
“Hey, did you hear about the Bachelor Auction?” Becca asked Nick, when they got further up the trail, and then slowed down again on approach to the barbed wire fence line.
“You mean on Friday in the town park? Yeah. We talked about it last week, briefly.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m already repeating myself!” Becca’s face turned hot. “Wade—I mean Captain Wade—you know the fire chief . . . well, he said that he and Pete and a few other guys from the fire department got roped into participating.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “Wow, no kidding? They’re gonna bid on a bachelor?”
Becca reached for the water bottles and laughed. “No, silly, they’ve volunteered to be part of the meat—the contestants. Let the girls of Snow Valley bid on them.” She glanced up to hand Nick a bottle and the young man was grinning at her. He’d been teasing her, of course. She’d forgotten his dry humor.
Nick took a swig of his water. “Hey, pass around the brownies, Bec.”
Nick Walton was the only person to ever shorten her name to Bec. It was endearing, and she had a moment of wistfulness over a childhood friendship that was gone.
Nick spoke casually, “Unless they’re planning on putting up a string of bachelorettes. Then I can bid on a girl with a big basket of home-cooked food.”
Becca went still. She bit her lip as she dug out the plastic container of brownies. “I didn’t know you were desperate for home-cooked food. Your mama is the best cook in the valley.”
“That she is,” Nick said.
For a long moment they eyed each other. Becca wondered what was going on. Finally, she sputtered, “You got your eyes set on some particular Snow Valley girl these days, Nick?”
He shrugged evasively. “Maybe, maybe not. Just trying to figure out how to rope her in.”
Becca swallowed, gulping down a bite of brownie, trying not to let his words bother her. Why should they bother her? The two of them had always known that one day they’d grow up, marry somebody, and move on with life.
It’s just that they’d never said any of this out loud before.
Becca wiped her hands along her jeans and changed the subject. “You competing in the rodeo this year?”
The horses followed the barbed wire fence line and she helped Nick look for breaks that would either indicate the cattle were trampling down a weak spot—or if any of the wire had been cut by human hands.
Nick shook his head. “The rodeos finished last week. Maybe you got into town too late. But I almost lost my thumb last year trying to take down a calf so I stopped competing. Made me realize I value my fingers more than a calf lying on the dirt. Retired with my best time though.” He gave her a wink.
“Congratulations. I wish I’d been here to see it.”
“Mama said to invite you for dinner one night. She added the buckle I won to the collection. Got a great saddle, too. Guess you can see the end result.”
Becca nodded. “We’ll have to do popcorn and a video. For old times’ sake—before you bid on that girl and run off into the sunset.”
Nick didn’t respond. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he stared past her. Was he suddenly annoyed at those stupid, taunting words she really didn’t mean to say? They were probably a little mean.
“There,” Nick said, pointing ahead, his hand on his cowboy hat. “Something doesn’t look right.”
He slid off his horse and Rebecca followed suit, crunching through the dry grass, Honey’s lead in her hand.
“There it is,” Nick said. He crouched in the dirt and ran his fingers along the underside of the fence. “Dad was right. The fence has been cut with wire-cutters. See how they rigged it back up to make it look like it was still fine? At least from a distance?”
“Which means they can get in and out whenever they want and take your cattle.”
“Exactly right.” Nick rose to his feet. He put a hand above his eyes, gazing out across the land. A few brown and white cows were off in the distance. Several were lying in the shade of a cottonwood tree. Their heads reared up to stare at them curiously. “I’ll have to report this to Sheriff Carter.”
“Do you ever lie in wait to catch the thieves?”
“Dad did once when I was a kid, but Mom didn’t like that. Said a cow wasn’t worth getting shot over.”
“They carry guns?”
“Course they do. Wonder if they have a hide-out anywhere close by?”
Becca gave a laugh. “Sounds like an old Western movie.”
“Still the wild, wild west out here in many ways.”
“John Wayne reminds me of that every day when I pass by his picture in the upstairs hall and kiss the glass.”
“You do not.”
“Do so.”
“You do not.”
Becca widened her eyes. “Do so.” Then she burst into giggles, giving herself away. “Well, I caught a guest kissing him once. A seventy-year-old woman named Hilda Fletcher on her way downstairs for the Big Sky breakfast.”
“You’re lying.” But Nick’s eyes were sparkling.
“Arm-wrestle you.”
“You’re on.”
He stepped closer, and then stopped. As if it had taken him a moment to realize she was still teasing him. “You beat me once when we were fourteen and I was drunk on root beer, but never again.”
Becca tried to keep a straight face. “Because you grew a foot that year and I hardly recognized you the next summer.”
“You’ll never appreciate how relieved I was not to have to look up to you.”
That did it. Becca was laughing out loud now. The memory was suddenly so funny she couldn’t stop. A few seconds later, she dropped to her knees, holding her stomach. “Get me chocolate,” she commanded.
When was the last time she’d laughed like this? When the world—college, life, work, boys—hadn’t gotten so serious and grown up?
“Ah, chocolate,” Nick said in a serious voice. “The cure for the Becca giggles.”
“Give it to me now,” Becca demanded, barely able to get the words out. “Before I—I,” When she was younger she’d have said, ‘before I accidentally wet my pants,” but she was too self-conscious to say it now.
“I can read your mind,” Nick said solemnly. “I have skills like that.”
That busted her up again. Until he handed her a gooey brownie and she sank her teeth into it, which stopped the laughter bubbling up her throat.
“Don’t choke on it,” he warned.
Becca lost her balance and toppled into the dirt. “Stop it!”
“Okay I stopped. Here, give me your hand.”
Nick gripped her fingers and lifted her back to her feet. “I forgot how funny you are when you start laughing and can’t stop. Thought maybe engineering school stifled the real Rebecca Dash.”
Becca coughed, swallowed, took a sip of her water, and brushed the dirt off her backside. “Sometimes I’ve wondered that, too.”
“Glad to have you back, Miss Dash.”
When Nick’s fingers
slipped from hers, Becca’s hand felt cold without his warmth against her palm. Her lips parted, and her legs were unsteady.
“I—” she started to speak, but had no idea what to say.
Nick broke off his stare and swung back up into his saddle. “Last one to the old mine entrance is a rotten egg.”
“No fair!” Becca yelled, pulling herself up onto Honey and chasing after him. “First one gets the last brownie!”
When they were younger, they’d often had this race to the abandoned copper mine.
The horses galloped the last half mile and Becca almost lost her hat, but she won by an arm’s length. “You let me win.”
He shrugged, trying to hide a smile.
“Too bad for you the last brownie is a pile of crumbs and pecan pieces,” she told him.
“Give it to me anyway.” Nick shoved the mess into his mouth and chewed. “I need a glass of cold milk.”
She arched an eyebrow. “See? You lost on both counts.”
“All we gotta do now is find a milking cow,” Nick added, trying to hide a smile.
“Ooh, warm milk? Now that’s such a treat.” She was breathing hard for some reason, but it was the horse that had done the running.
Shading her eyes, Becca stared up ahead at the rugged hillside. Old timbers rotted lay strewn like old newspapers around the area. A dark, menacing hole stared like a big black open mouth about a quarter of a mile ahead.
“How long ago do you think the mine closed?”
“Maybe back in the 30s.”
“If we scrounged around here do you think we’d find any old coins or spoons or canteens?”
Nick indulged her with a smile. “Maybe a pair of old shoes—if they’re even recognizable after all this time. Nothing too exciting around here. I spent plenty of time up here when I was a kid exploring.”
Sagebrush and grass and scrub pine surrounded them. Honey pawed the ground, shaking her head and snorting. Becca patted her mane. “Good girl. Wish I could give you something for winning our little race. Oh, wait, I have apples.”
Digging in the knapsack, she pulled out two polished red apples, and tossed one to Nick who jumped down to feed the fruit to his horse. Leaning forward, Becca tried to reach her horse’s mouth, but the animal suddenly swayed. Her ears flattened and she began to make whining sounds.
Summer in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance Anthologies Book 2) Page 52
