by Cassie Miles
Hearing his voice, she bolted from her chair and raced toward him, not stopping until she’d flung both arms around his neck and kissed him. Right away, he noticed a difference in her kiss. A feeling of desperation?
“I missed you,” she said.
Her dark eyes were more serious. The carefree smart aleck seemed to be hiding behind a heavy curtain. “Are you all right?”
“I’m worried. Like I told you on the phone, Daniel has more wrong with him than the concussion. He’s suffering from exhaustion. He told me that for the past couple of months, he’s been working double shifts to make extra money.”
“To pay off gambling debts,” he guessed.
“He didn’t admit it, but I know that’s the problem. He buried himself under too many IOUs and now he can’t see daylight.”
“You know that gambling is an addiction.”
“You bet. No joke intended.” But she smiled anyway, and he was glad to see her lighten up. “My dad had a similar problem. On the night when he and my mom were killed in a car accident, they were driving back from Atlantic City. He’d just won big, and then he was gone.”
“I’m sorry.” He was beginning to understand why luck played such a big role in her philosophy of life.
She took his hand and dragged him across the studio. “Come take a look at Charlotte’s shirt. It’s butterflies and roses.”
The yoke of the turquoise shirt was embroidered in shining black thread in a flowing design. “Did you draw this picture?”
“I made it especially ornate to contrast the simple lines of the shirt. I’m thinking of adding some silver clothing studs that would look like dewdrops on the roses.”
“Michelle was right. You’ve got talent.”
“I’m a scribbler. She was an artist.”
In the few minutes they’d been talking, she’d lost some of her grim melancholy. He wanted to encourage her and tease her until she was back to full Gabby. “Let’s get out of here and relax.”
“Can’t take the time,” she said. “I want to finish this shirt. The rodeo is tomorrow, and I want people to see the shirt and want to buy one or two.”
“How are they going to do that?”
“I already have a site on the internet where you can order my designs, and business cards that direct you there. But I need to change my photo gallery to highlight Western wear.”
“Charlotte will let you take some pictures of her.”
“Yes, but most of the sales in Western shirts go to men.” She was eyeing him like a slab of steak. “You’d look good in a black shirt with a white design. Of course, the embroidery has to be horses.”
“You want me to be your model.”
“Like Sarah Bentley said, you’re hot.”
He didn’t love this idea, didn’t even like it much. But he didn’t want to turn her down when she was so excited about her project. “Will I see you tonight?”
“Can you come over here? With Daniel in the hospital, Charlotte is all alone, and I want to keep her company.”
“Works for me,” he said. “I’ll be getting up extra early to load the trick ponies into the big trailer and transport them over to the arena.”
She fidgeted and looked back at her sewing machine. “I should get back to work.”
After a peck on the cheek, he left her in the studio. Her mood was off-kilter, and he wanted to find out why. After seeing her brother hurt, she might have changed her mind about living at the Roost. If that was true, why was she gung ho about her Western shirts? She might be worried about money. Daniel’s care at the hospital wouldn’t be cheap. He had to face the possibility that she was having regrets about last night.
Had he done something to cause her unhappiness? They’d spent the day together yesterday, and she hadn’t been upset. Gabby wasn’t the type of woman to take offense and hold a grudge. If something was wrong, she’d blurt it right out. Or would she?
By the time evening rolled around, he was still clueless. He put together a portion of Rhoda’s baked ham and a loaf of fresh-baked bread for Gabby and Charlotte. It came as no surprise when Toby offered to drive over to the Roost to take his turn as a bodyguard.
Zach warned, “Charlotte did something to her hair, so be sure you notice that it’s different. No matter what it looks like, tell her it’s pretty.”
“I wouldn’t be lying,” he said. “She always looks pretty.”
“How come it took you so long to notice?”
“Before Gabby got here, Charlotte dressed like a boy. I couldn’t see her shape under those sweatshirts.”
“And now she wears glitter and miniskirts. That’s what they call feminine wiles.”
When they arrived at the Roost, Charlotte was on the porch waiting for them. Her hair was slightly blonder in color, but Zach was glad he’d given Toby a heads-up so the young man could say the right things. In simple situations, Zach was confident in his relationship abilities, but he wasn’t feeling that way when he entered the kitchen with his food supplies and confronted Gabby, who sat at the kitchen table with her shoulders slumped and her head drooping. She looked like a graphic illustration of depression.
He couldn’t really compare her emotional turmoil to that of a wild mustang, but some of the same principles applied. First, he assessed her physical situation: terrible posture, dark circles under the eyes and shallow breathing.
“You’re tired,” he said.
“I spent last night sleeping on chairs in the hospital waiting room.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I’m not hungry.”
That was the depression talking. He could see that her body needed nourishment and hydration. In the refrigerator, he found a bottle of water that he placed on the table in front of her. “Drink this.”
There was a bowl of fruit on the table and he pulled it toward her. “Try the banana.”
She looked at him with suspicious eyes. “What are you doing?”
From working with horses, he knew better than to let her see that he was manipulating her. He tossed out a distraction. “I’m making a ham sandwich.” He went to the counter, found a knife and began slicing. Another distraction. “Did you finish Charlotte’s shirt?”
“I did and it’s really nice.” She peeled the banana and took a bite. “And I’m almost done with yours.”
Now was not the time to tell her that he wasn’t going to play male model. “How do you know my size?”
“I measured one of your shirts to use as a pattern. It’s something Rene taught me to do. When we went clothes shopping, we hardly ever bought anything. We’d check out the styles and the fabrics, go home and make the clothes ourselves.”
“Apart from the savings, what did you like about making your own outfits?”
“It’s satisfying to start out on a project and see it through to the end. With clothing, I produce a tangible product that’s also useful.”
He placed the sandwich in front of her and sat at the table. If she’d been a mustang, this would have been the point when he tossed a blanket on her back to get her accustomed to the feel of a saddle.
She took a bite, chewed slowly and swallowed. “This is good. Maybe I was hungry, after all.”
Satisfying her need for sleep meant he probably wouldn’t find out what was bothering her tonight. He’d have to wait, to be patient.
They’d gone up to her bedroom early, and he’d selected her most modest nightgown. “Put this on.”
“Why? You’re just going to take it off.”
“I want to make love,” he said honestly. Thinking about having her in his arms occupied most of his waking thoughts. “But you need to rest. I can wait.”
“You’re a very unusual man.”
Or a complete idiot. “Good things are worth waiting for. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”
He stripped down to his boxers and slipped under the sheets beside her. Though his intention was simply to cuddle, he was fully aroused and ready for a lot more.
Later, he told himself. They had plenty of time for earth-stopping passion, later.
Within minutes, she was asleep, breathing steadily, curled up in his arms. Holding her gently, he kissed her forehead and succumbed to a sense of warm contentment as he sank into a pleasant sleep.
Hours later, he was wakened by her kiss. He kept his eyes closed as his hands stroked the silky skin of her bare back, gliding over the curve of her slender waist until he cupped the fullness of her buttocks. Their clothes were gone. He didn’t remember taking anything off, but he was naked. And that was good. He guided her position so she was on top of him with her legs splayed on either side of his hips.
He opened his eyes. She hadn’t turned on a lamp, and the room was dark, but he could see the outline of her delicate profile. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing deeply as she slid down his body. Moving slowly, she dropped kisses along the way as she descended from his neck to his chest to his hips and lower. Her tongue laved his flesh. Her hands gripped and kneaded.
Unable to hold himself in check for one more second, he reversed their positions so he was on top. He’d thought far enough ahead to bring condoms, which he stashed in her bedside table beside the Glock. When he was ready, he lowered himself onto her body, feeling every inch of her body pressed against him.
He returned her kisses and doubled them until she was arching against him, demanding release. He parted her thighs and entered her, claiming her, accepting the driving tension that could only be satisfied by making love. She matched his thrusts, driving him to go harder and faster until he couldn’t hold back.
His body shuddered in release, and he collapsed onto the bed beside her, breathing hard.
She whispered, “Was it worth waiting for?”
“It was Christmas, New Year’s and my birthday rolled into one.”
“You’re going to look great in the Western shirt I’m making for you.”
“Can’t wait.”
Though he’d been taking care of her, wrangling her like a wild mustang, Zach felt like he was the one being tamed.
Chapter Nineteen
The plan was for Gabby, Charlotte and Rhoda to leave for the rodeo at ten o’clock, skipping the morning events, which were mostly for families and kids. The 4-H clubs would show off the livestock they’d raised themselves, and there would be contests for kids, all of which sounded weird to Gabby. Mutton busting involved a child hanging onto a sheep for as long as they could. There was a contest based on pulling the ribbon off the tail of a calf or a goat.
Not being a fan of smelly animals, Gabby didn’t think they’d be missing much if they didn’t watch the Little Britches events. She wondered what these ranch kids would think of playing stickball in the street in Brooklyn or cracking open a fire hydrant to cool off in the spray.
The trick riding was at one, before the main events. That was what she really wanted to see. The difficult part of her scheduling was figuring out when she needed to be at the hospital to pick up Daniel. Taking him to the rodeo instead of home to bed would probably be against the doctor’s advice, and she told Gabby and Rhoda that they should take two cars in case she needed to leave early.
When she got Daniel on the phone at the hospital, he sounded great. “Apart from a minor headache, I’m fine.”
“Did the doctors tell you what you’re supposed to do when we get home?”
“The typical, healthy stuff,” he said, “like drinking plenty of water and getting a full eight hours of sleep. And exercise. I should get started on an exercise regimen.”
That simple advice came at a high cost, but she was glad that Daniel was well. “When will you be released?”
“Here’s the thing, Gabby. You don’t have to pick me up.”
An alarm bell rang inside her head. She had a bad feeling about this. “Why not?”
“Fox arranged for me to stay at a place where I can concentrate on recuperating. And, here’s the best part, it’s free.”
The alarm clanged louder. Anything involving Fox was bound to be trouble. “Where is this magical free place?”
“It’s a bed-and-breakfast. The owner is Sarah Bentley, the woman who runs the Forest Preservation—”
“I know who she is,” Gabby snapped. Clang! Clang! Clang! How could her brother be so blind? Didn’t he see that he was being manipulated? “You’re not going there. I’ll pick you up.”
“Sorry, sis, the reservations are already set. I met Sarah yesterday, and she seems like a reasonable person. Working with her shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Of course, she’s being nice to you. If she convinces you to sell the Roost, her save-the-trees club gets tons of money.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Since when are you an environmentalist.” She wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him. “Let me put it in terms you understand. If she gets the money, you don’t. We don’t just lose the house. We also lose all the money from Michelle’s art.”
“My mind is made up,” he said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
When she ended the call, she couldn’t have been more furious. When she’d contacted Fox, she thought she’d be on the hook for an outrageous loan but had never suspected that he’d convince Daniel to turn against her.
* * *
GABBY AND CHARLOTTE rode together in her car, and Rhoda drove her own truck because she needed to bring some gear from the ranch that the guys forgot this morning. Zach had left Gabby’s bed before sunrise to supervise the loading of the trick horses for their event.
When she parked in the lot beside the arena, Gabby felt the excitement vibrating off Charlotte. Her blonder hair suited her, and her turquoise shirt with the custom embroidery looked terrific. She had to be one of the prettiest cowgirls in Pitkin County. As they walked toward the arena, she waved to a couple of teenage girls who did double takes and then motioned for her to join them.
“Do you mind if I go with them?” Charlotte asked.
“Have fun.” Gabby patted her back. “Be sure to tell everybody where you got your shirt.”
On her own, she wandered among several booths that had been arranged in a small fairground. The woman who ran a quilt store chatted with her about the patchwork, elbow-length jacket she was wearing. Gabby had styled herself for the rodeo in skinny black jeans, platform shoes, the jacket and a couple of chunky bracelets. Fashion made her feel put together, and she needed all the reassurance she could get, especially after her brother’s defection to Sarah Bentley.
There were a few other craft booths that featured home-sewed items, and Gabby left her card with each. She was kind of surprised to find so many people who sewed and worried that there might be others doing fancy Western shirts.
When she saw Zach striding through the crowd toward her, the first thing she noticed was his saucer-sized, gold-and-silver All-Around Champion Cowboy belt buckle.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You look pretty, kind of urban, but pretty.”
She tapped the buckle. “This is a subtle accessory.”
“I thought you’d like it. How’s your brother?”
This would be difficult to explain without mentioning her loan from Fox, but she didn’t want to risk getting into an argument with Zach. “Daniel is leaving the hospital and staying at Sarah Bentley’s bed-and-breakfast.”
“How did he meet her?”
“Fox.”
Zach’s attitude switched from easygoing to angry in the blink of an eyelash. “Why?”
“Fox is trying to turn my brother against me and force me to sell. And Daniel is falling for it.”
“He doesn’t control you, doesn’t own you. He can’t force your hand, Gabby. I won’t let him.”
“That’s what I need to hear.” It wasn’t exactly true, but she needed the confidence boost. With Zach’s support, she felt unstoppable even though Fox had her barricaded behind huge obstacles.
He took her hand. “Almost time for the trick riding. Let’s go.”
As
they made their way through the stands, every other person greeted Zach. Until now, she hadn’t realized what it meant to be a local celebrity, and she liked being with him. On a purely practical level, an endorsement from Zach on her shirts meant something in the rodeo world.
In the announcer’s booth, Zach took his place beside the man with the microphone. Looking down at the arena, she saw Toby and three other cowboys who worked for Zach behind the gates. Toby waved to signal that they were ready.
After the announcer welcomed the crowd, he introduced Zach. “Two time All-Around World Champion Cowboy and owner of Sheffield Ranch, Zach Sheffield.”
Zach waited a moment for the applause to die down, then he spoke into the microphone. “Before we get started, I want to take just a minute to remember a very special lady that many of you knew and loved, a longtime resident of this area, an artist. Join with me in a salute to the memory of Michelle Rousseau.”
His impromptu eulogy gave her chills. Looking out at the crowd, she noticed several people bowing their heads. Her great-aunt had made an impact on the people around her. Gabby hoped she could do the same.
“Let’s get started,” he said. “These trick riders work at my ranch and practice when they should be mucking out the stalls in the stable.”
The four men burst into the arena. Gabby still wasn’t a fan of horses, but these were beautiful animals, especially when they reared back on their hind legs and held that pose. The cowboys rode together in formation, then peeled off and circled around in precision maneuvers that brought them within inches of collisions.
By himself, Toby maintained a full gallop across the ring while dismounting on one side and jumping over to the other side and back again. The others followed, doing the same dangerous trick. The most impressive part, in her mind, was the speed of the galloping horse. “How do they do that?”
“The real skill comes in training the horse,” Zach said. “If the mount doesn’t have a steady gait, the rider can’t balance.”
The tricks involved hanging off the saddle, flipping around to ride backward and standing. For their finale, all four cowboys stood on their horses and circled the ring.
