Redeeming the Texas Rancher

by Sands, Charlene

  Day approached him and searched his eyes. “What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” She kept her voice discreetly low.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about leaving your change on her counter so she’d have to track you down.”

  He shrugged. “You have a vivid imagination, May Day.”

  “Didn’t she used to babysit you?” Dakota asked.

  Again, another shrug. “Back in the dinosaur age. We’re both adults now.”

  Yes, that was true, but she’d bet a dollar to a Bluebonnet doughnut that Ella saw things differently. Six years divided them, but it might as well be sixty.

  “Okay, if you say so. But, Brett, if you ever need a sympathetic ear, you know where I live.”

  The side of his mouth crooked up. “Same goes for you, Dakota. Goodnight all.” He made eye contact with Marla, giving her wink.

  “Night, handsome,” Marla said.

  He took two steps toward the door and pivoted around, as if remembering something. “Oh and, May Day,” he said, his voice a mere rasp. “If you think Colby Ryan doesn’t have you on his radar, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  “What?”

  “I played poker with the guys the other night. As soon as your name came up, Cole was all ears.”

  “My name came up?”

  “You make a helluva cookie, Day.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “It’s more than that, but that’s all I’m gonna say. I’m Switzerland now. Starting work at Cole’s place in the morning.”

  “It’s kinda cruel to drop a bomb like that and not follow through.”

  “Not a bomb, Day. Just an observation and something you should think about before you give up. See you tomorrow.”

  Day followed him to the door and watched him get into his truck and pull away, all the while wondering if she should believe him or not.

  Not, was much safer and that was the path she was choosing to go down for right now.

  *

  Cole stood by the kitchen window, coffeepot in hand, pouring a cup of steaming hot brew into a mug. He took his eyes off the task when he spotted Dakota walk up to Brett out by the barn. Squinting into the sunlight, he focused on the two of them throwing their heads back in laughter at something Brett said. Her body still shaking from whatever funny thing they were laughing over, Day put a hand on Brett’s arm. That touch made Cole jerk, tipping the coffee pot.

  Coffee spilled over his hand and seared his skin. “Ow! Sonofabitch!” He slapped the mug down and shook out his hand, splattering drops of coffee everywhere. Quickly, he turned on the faucet and put his hand under the cold running water and kept it there for a long minute.

  “Hey, Cole.” Day walked through the back door. “I just came in to ask—”

  “Shit, shit, shit.” His hand was still on fire.

  “Cole! What happened?” She raced over to the sink.

  “Burned my damn hand.”

  She edged her body beside him, took his hand gently and held it under the faucet, adjusting the cold water. “Gosh, how’d you do this?”

  “It’s nothin’.”

  “It’s something. What were you doing—daydreaming?”

  Cole saw the irony in that. Day-dreaming. Wasn’t that the truth? He’d been Day-dreaming a lot lately and look where that just got him: tight britches and a burnt hand. “I spilled coffee, is all.”

  “Your hand thinks otherwise. We’ll keep it under the faucet, let the water cool it down, and then I’ve got a surefire fix for you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. How’s it feeling?”

  Tender-like, she was holding his hand, and the sweet smell of flowery shampoo or lotion, he couldn’t tell which, reached his nostrils. Day always smelled good in the morning, before the workday wore on her, like it did everyone else. Her scent was familiar, and usually comforting until lately. Ever since she’d returned from her two-week trip to her mama’s, she’d been taking up his brain space. He’d missed her. Like a friend, he told himself, but God help him if it was more than that. “Feels better.”

  “That’s good.” She gave him a glance with those green, almost emerald eyes and he saw concern there. “This could’ve been a lot worse. Doesn’t look like more than a first-degree burn. You should be more careful, Cole.”

  “Right.” And you shouldn’t be flirting with Brett Collier right under my nose.

  Her head tilted a bit at his sharp tone. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  He swallowed his jealousy, if that was what it was. “Don’t need to be. It was a dumb accident.”

  “I’ll say.”

  His lips lifted a bit. Day was sweet, when she wasn’t being ornery, and right now she was being both. “Thanks for your help, but I’ll live. I’m good now.”

  He started to pull his hand away, but she tugged it back gently and then turned off the faucet. “You’ll be better than good in a few seconds. Come with me, macho man.”

  There was humor in her voice now and as she led him to his master bedroom, hope gripped his chest. There were only a couple of times Day had ever entered his room, to give him advice about rearranging his furniture and to visit him when he was down with the flu. So now, something else was gripping him, below the waist, and that was no laughing matter. It was downright embarrassing having this reaction to her. But all hope was dashed as she dragged him past his bed and into the master bathroom. “What are we doing in here?”

  “You’ll see.” She opened his medicine cabinet and came up with a tube of toothpaste.

  “I’ve already brushed my teeth, Day. Unless…” He used his other hand to circle around his mouth. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  She chuckled while shaking her head and pushed at his chest. He was so stunned he landed on his butt on the toilet. Thankfully the seat was down. “I bet you’re feeling the burn again now that your hand is out of the water.”

  “You’d win that bet.”

  “Okay, then.” She unwound the cap of the toothpaste tube and spread a generous amount on her fingertip.

  “This will sting at first, but give it a few minutes and you’ll be surprised.”

  Her fingertip laden with toothpaste slid over the top of his hand, the potent scent of minty freshness filling the air, and she carefully massaged it in. “I’m surprised now, seeing as you’re covering my hand with toothpaste.”

  “Trust me, Cole.”

  She gazed into his eyes, her hand on his, and all he could do was take a swallow and nod. He did trust Day. She’d been a loyal friend for as long as he could remember. “I’m gonna have the brightest white skin in all of Texas.”

  “I admit it looks weird, but I’d take weird over pain any day.”

  She stood over him, holding his work-roughened hand and dang if the stinging pain didn’t start to subside. “It’s amazing.”

  “It helps with the swelling too. You won’t have to deal with the burn much. It’s a healing agent.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  “A girl doesn’t give away all her secrets now, does she?”

  “You have secrets, Day?” he asked. Lord knew he did.

  A cunning sweet smile graced her mouth. “Sure I do.” She released his hand, but the smile remained. “You don’t know everything about me.”

  He stood up to face her. “I know you like romantic movies. That’s pretty big.”

  “Yeah, well. My tastes are changing. I’m into thrillers now. They’re much more realistic.” A flicker in her eyes hinted at sadness.

  “I don’t know what to say to that. I’ve never watched a romantic movie.”

  “Never?”

  “Never.”

  “That explains a lot,” she murmured. “I’ve gotta get back to work. You shouldn’t have too much problem with that hand. Just be sure to reapply the toothpaste every few hours and don’t wrap it.”

  She turned toward t
he door and Cole immediately grabbed for her, latching on to her arm. “Day?”

  Her eyes drifted down to where he held her. “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  She left the room taking her flowery scent, sad green eyes and sweet smile with her.

  A picture of Sarah entered his mind. Her bubbly smile, pretty face, lithe body, a girl filled with enough passion to fill a house with warmth had turned Cole into a love-smitten eighteen-year-old boy. That summer Sarah was visiting her grandmother had started out with so much promise, and unlike any romantic movie, it ended with pain and disappointment and tragedy.

  So Cole suppressed any feelings he was beginning to have for Dakota. She was too good a friend for him to mess it up beyond repair.

  Like he’d done with Sarah.

  *

  Day tucked herself under a fluffy white down comforter on her bed and lay there in her room enjoying the quiet of the night. Tonight, silence was the easy calm she needed. As soon as her limbs melted in the warmth of her cozy bed, her fatigue set in, but it was the good kind of tired, where she felt she’d accomplished all she’d set out to do today. She was a list maker and a goal setter and today at the Circle R, she’d been able to cross off all the items on her To Do List. She’d also worked until nine o’clock at Barely There. Slowly, under Jillian’s guidance, Day was learning how to sell goods, how to promote, how to keep the customer happy. All tools she’d need when she started her own business.

  She picked up her phone and told the male version of Siri, to remind her to call Arnold Jasper tomorrow. Mr. Jasper’s land butted up against the Circle R to the east and ever since Betsy Jasper, Arnold’s wife, died some ten years ago, he’d been selling off twenty-acre parcels of land every other year or so, to help make ends meet. He was soon due to make another offering and Day was hoping to get a jump on the land before it actually went on sale.

  If only.

  She didn’t have enough cash just yet, but she had some ideas on the matter and, well, she was ready to get on with that part of her life.

  While the phone was still in her hand, it buzzed and a text appeared. “You up for a game?”

  She smiled. It was Cole.

  Late at night sometimes, after a long grueling day, she would relax in her room lit only by the backlight of her phone to play Hanging With Friends.

  For Cole, it was a way to unwind and chill. They’d been playing cell phone games like this for years now, both of them being highly competitive, but that wasn’t all of it. It was a way to connect, to maintain their friendship. She imagined him sitting up in his bed, in the dark, concentrating on ways to beat her, but more often she imagined what he looked like buck naked under those sheets. What it would be like to share that bed with him and play a different kind of game.

  During those two weeks she was at her mother’s, he hadn’t invited a game and she hadn’t asked him either. It was no big deal, but tonight, she was up for a game or two. Oddly, though playing hangman and working out words to spell for the most points was stimulating, it also helped relax her to sleep.

  She texted back. “Sure. If you think you can beat me.”

  “Never a problem,” he wrote back.

  Her mouth curled into a smile as she punched in her reply. “You’re on.”

  Fifteen minutes into it, after she came up with a seven-letter word, Cole texted. “Nice one.” It was quite an achievement to be able to use all the letters given you and not only was she feeling good about her skills, the word “juniper” scored her a bucket of points to bring her the win.

  At least tonight he wasn’t a sore loser.

  But twenty minutes later, after Cole tried to pull a fast one during their second game, she wrote him, “That is SO not a word!”

  As quick as he could type, a smiley face appeared on her text message.

  “You can’t charm me, Colby Ryan. Cheaters never prosper.”

  “Sticks and stones, Dakota.”

  “And burns? How’s the hand?”

  “Better, your trick worked.”

  “Happy about that, and yet, you’re still losing.”

  “Tired.”

  “Me too. It’s the witching hour.”

  They had a standing rule: no matter where they were in the game they’d call it quits at eleven o’clock. Actually, with the day they’d had, she was surprised both of them had stayed up this long. Six a.m. rolled around pretty quickly and Day would often cuss out her alarm clock and hit the snooze button before getting up, but she always made it to work on time. She never beat Cole though. He was always up and dressed and already working by the time she showed up at the ranch.

  “Time for bed,” he texted.

  Once again she pictured herself curling up next to him in his big master bed. Her mind wandered from there, thinking about touching him, kissing him and doing all the things she’d dreamt about doing with him. She wished like hell she could cleanse her mind and purge these thoughts. It was hard living this way, loving and not being loved back. But she was getting better at it, and trying real hard not to dwell.

  “Goodnight, Cole.”

  “Night, Day.”

  *

  “Jillian thinks you’re wonderful for letting her give Maddie a baby shower here,” Day said to Cole on the steps of the Ryan ranch house the next morning.

  Cole sipped his coffee. “Jack came up with the plan. And I agreed it would work. She’s a damn fine veterinarian and I can’t imagine her not coming to the ranch if Snowflake was down.”

  “It’s a nice gesture.”

  He puffed out his chest, nearly busting the buttons on his blue chambray shirt. “Just call me Saint Cole.”

  Day pretended to choke on her coffee, and a little liquid drizzled down her cup. Not the most feminine move, but Cole laughed and his eyes gleamed bright as they peered at each other. It was these moments—the quick flashes of mutual humor and friendship and familiarity—that bonded them, making her believe her fondest wish could actually come true. But as usual, the moment was over far too fast, Cole catching himself and turning away before she could read something in his eyes that would give her hope.

  “Never,” she said, the fun moment lost.

  Cole seemed to know it too and he faced her again. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m no saint.”

  But he was cryptic. What was that look on his face and why was he mentally beating himself up? “Saint or no saint it was nice of you to agree.”

  “Yeah well, it’s hard to refuse a favor for Jack and Jillian.”

  “So, I guess I’d better start making some plans then. Do you have time later in the day to talk?”

  “About the shower?”

  “Well, yeah. I have a few ideas, but I want to run them by you, if that’s okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s all right I suppose. I’ll meet you in the kitchen; we’ll talk over lunch.”

  “Okay.”

  Day climbed down from the steps, walked past the corral and entered the barn. Brett was there already, wearing eye protectors that wound around his head, about to take a sledgehammer to a stall. “Hey, it’s about time you showed up.”

  “I’m right on time, Collier, so don’t give me grief.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  She shook her head. The guy was always teasing. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll get all the mares into the corral, so you can go about your demolition.”

  “Aw, you don’t want to help me?”

  She gazed at the sledgehammer in his grip. “You really trust me with that thing?”

  “On second thought, no.” His smile was quick.

  “Okay then. Let me do my work and you do yours.”

  He gave her a military salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She rolled her eyes and he chuckled.

  The horses were gentle and sweet and usually followed Snowflake’s lead, so the job wasn’t too difficult. She merely unhooked Snow’s gate, entered the paddock and wrapped a loose bridl
e over her neck. Snow nuzzled Day’s throat and she chuckled. “Is this what you want, girl?” She gave the mare several love pats, stroking over her mane and sliding a hand down her nose. “That’s a good girl,” she cooed. “It’s a nice day outside for you and the girls. Shall we lead them out?” She walked Snow out of her stall and stopped by the other gates. One by one and giving each horse a special piece of her heart, she guided them beside Snowflake into the corral. “Thanks for your help,” she told the special mustang, closing the corral gate behind her.

  Day looked around the ranch and wondered why Cole wasn’t doing better financially. The ranch was solvent, for sure, and Cole wasn’t living an extravagant lifestyle by any means, yet he often spaced out the repairs to the ranch—she assumed for monetary reasons—and held back on the expansion he had always wanted. He’d wanted a bigger, better ranch than the one his father had handed down to him.

  Yet, none of that had happened so far.

  It almost made her want to give back the raise he’d given her.

  Almost.

  When she was through seeing to the horses, she walked into the stables again. “It’s a go. Start hacking away,” she said to Brett.

  He raised the sledgehammer over his head, his gloved hands gripping the handle tight. “My favorite thing to do on my birthday.” Down came his arm. Bam. Wood splintered in half and the rotted pieces slid across the ground.

  She stepped up. “It’s your birthday?”

  “Yep. Now stand clear.”

  “Wait!” She ignored his command and walked up to him. “I wish you would’ve told me it was your birthday.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because…”

  She didn’t have an answer for him, other than birthdays should be acknowledged, shouldn’t they?

  He braced his hands on the end of the sledgehammer. “You want to give me a birthday hug?”

  Day stepped back. “No, of course not.”

  “I think you should.”

  “Why?”

  He glanced over her head to the big doublewide doorway of the barn. “Because Cole’s coming this way. Time to see if you can get a rise outta him.”