Paris or Bust!

by Kate Hoffmann

  “You enjoy being a rancher?” he probed.

  “I like carrying on my parents’ work. The Wandering I meant the world to them.” That had been clear from her father’s will, which had left Jody copious instructions for running the ranch, as if to make sure she didn’t rush to unload the place.

  “What about teaching?”

  The question made Jody’s throat tighten. She’d adored her classroom and the challenge of helping her second graders master new material. “I miss it.”

  “Will you ever go back?”

  She hadn’t allowed herself to think in that direction. “It would be disloyal to give up the ranch.”

  “You mean you’re going to spend the rest of your life playing Dale Evans even though you always wanted to be a teacher?” he said. “When we were in college, you used to dream about decorating your classroom.”

  “Things change,” Jody said. “This is not your problem, Callum.”

  “Okay, I’ll back off. For now.” He steered around a pothole in her driveway. “Let’s talk about getting married.”

  Her heart performed a ballet leap. “Have you made a decision?”

  “Only in the preliminary sense.” Maddeningly, he stopped talking while parking in the garage. After the engine cut off, he climbed out and started to come around.

  Jody exited by herself, too impatient to wait. “What do you mean, you’ve made a preliminary decision?”

  “There’s no sense in embarking on a marriage of convenience unless we’re sure we can handle it,” Callum said. “Do you agree?”

  “I suppose so.”

  Walking toward the house, he matched his stride to hers. “We weren’t very convincing yesterday during our jam session.” He opened the side door, which she’d left unlocked as always.

  “What does music have to do with marriage?” Lifting her long skirt, Jody stepped over the sill.

  “I wasn’t referring to the music. I meant our lack of restraint.” Callum paused in front of her. At such close quarters, his nearness made her skin tingle.

  “What lack of restraint?”

  “The part where I grabbed you.”

  “It was just a kiss.” She was getting good at lying, Jody reflected ruefully.

  “Like this?” His touch on her arm was all the warning she had before his lips gently explored hers.

  Jody’s tongue tasted fire. She drew it back, and then dared the flames once more. Only when she heard a groan and realized she didn’t know whether it was hers or Callum’s did she wrench herself away.

  “You see the problem.” His eyes had a hooded appearance. “We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “My hands were nowhere near you,” she protested weakly.

  “How can we spend a lifetime as platonic mates if we can’t spend a single day simply being pals?” he asked.

  “Who says we can’t?” She was ready to fight her own instincts, Mother Nature itself and him, too, if necessary.

  Callum drew himself up. “I take that as a challenge. Since the kids are gone, how about if we use this afternoon as a test?”

  Jody usually took Sundays off, so there was no work to interfere. “It’s a deal. Anything special you’d like to do?”

  “It’s warm. We could go swimming.” The animals’ water tank doubled as an informal pool.

  An image of Callum in minuscule trunks quickened Jody’s breathing. “I don’t think swimsuits are such a good idea.”

  “Who said anything about swimsuits?” He grinned.

  She forced herself to stay calm. “Let’s go riding. That ought to cool your ardor, City Boy. I plan to change into jeans, and I’d recommend you do likewise.”

  “You’re the boss.” With a casual salute, he strolled toward his room. She allowed her gaze to linger on his taut rear end beneath the silky blue suit.

  What was wrong with her? They hadn’t even started, and she was already giving in to temptation! Jody chastised herself, and hurried off.

  Dressed for the outing, they met in the kitchen, packed sandwiches and headed for the barn. Callum saddled his horse adeptly. He hadn’t forgotten much from his high school days, when he’d worked on ranches during the summer to help earn money for college.

  “I should have put you to work the minute you got here,” she teased.

  He held up his unscarred hands. “I’m out of shape. The only kind of animal I can wrangle these days is a mouse. The computer variety.”

  “Let’s see what sitting around in a desk chair has done to your riding seat.” Jody swung onto her favorite mare, Flicka. “I’ll race you to the windmill.”

  “Wait!” He was still arcing onto his saddle as she pressed her knees into the horse’s flanks.

  From the barn, Flicka sped past the big house on Jody’s left and the corral chutes to her right. As they shot up the hillside, she heard Callum’s gelding, King Arthur, thundering behind them.

  “Go, girl!” she shouted close to the horse’s neck. Warm sun bathed her back as Flicka hit her stride and they chunked over the grassy slope, the reverberations of the hoofbeats welding them into a single determined entity.

  “Beep beep!” Callum called as he pulled alongside.

  Atop the tall horse, he resembled a cowboy from a John Wayne movie, slim and hard and born in the saddle. Callum had the gift of looking at home anywhere, Jody reflected.

  Was there any chance he really could feel at home on a ranch? He already had many of the basic skills. Maybe he, like her, was ready to consider a change of careers.

  If she didn’t snap out of her daydreams, she was going to lose the race. “Hit it!” she commanded Flicka, and flattened herself against the horse. Inspired, the mare flew past the gelding and reached the windmill first by half a stride.

  “I win!” After the horses slowed, Jody raised one fist in a victory salute.

  “You do indeed. I’ll even forgive you for the head start, since my horse is bigger.” Callum had always been a good sport. “That was exciting.”

  “You’re a good rider,” she conceded.

  “It comes back to me.” He tilted his face to enjoy the sunshine. “This is almost beach weather.”

  “Don’t you miss the seasons, living where it’s summer all the time?” Jody asked as the horses walked side by side. “To me, springtime is extra glorious because it comes after a cold, dark winter.”

  “Don’t exaggerate,” he said. “This is Texas, not Montana.”

  “It snows here!”

  “Just enough to keep things interesting.” At the top of the hill, he reined to a halt and surveyed the patchwork panorama below them. Green fields and rambling fences, meandering cattle, stands of trees and a distant ribbon of highway sprawled to the horizon.

  “Welcome to my place of business,” Jody said.

  “You’ve got an even better view than I do,” Callum said. “This beats skyscrapers, hands down.”

  Her heart leaped. Maybe there was hope, after all.

  A sense of peace stole over Jody as she gazed across the land where she’d grown up. Here, to the ranch, she’d retreated when the popular high school girls snubbed her or she failed to get a date for a dance.

  It had been her refuge five years ago, too. Jody had given up her rented house in town and returned, pregnant and defiantly independent but scared, too. Her parents had offered support, and the ranch had reassured her with its permanence.

  It was different living and working here twenty-four hours a day, though. This past year, sometimes she’d felt confined and out of touch with the world. Maybe that was why she yearned to fly away to Paris.

  “I wish I could read your mind,” Callum said.

  “I was just thinking.” Jody didn’t want to go into detail. She hated revealing her vulnerabilities, because doing so made her feel weak. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “No, seriously.” She relaxed in the saddle, letting Flicka graze. “You couldn’t wait to leave this area. To me, it�
��s the center of the universe.”

  King Arthur, who could get edgy if he sensed any insecurity in his rider, calmed enough to join the mare in grazing. It was a tribute to Callum’s skill in the saddle.

  “This area is beautiful but I never felt like I really fit in here in Everett Landing,” said the man beside her.

  Jody let out a disbelieving hoot. “You were the most popular guy in school, except maybe for the football team!”

  “That’s a big exception.” He chuckled. “Besides, you’re biased.”

  “The kids wouldn’t have voted you Most Likely to Succeed if they hadn’t liked you,” she pointed out. “I didn’t get voted anything.”

  “What would you have liked to be?” he asked.

  Most likely to have Callum Fox fall in love with me. “Most likely to teach school,” Jody said, sticking close to the truth.

  “I was flattered, getting voted an honor like that,” Callum said, “but if you view it a different way, it meant I was being voted Most Likely to Leave Town.”

  “That doesn’t mean they wanted you to leave!” she protested. “I can’t understand why you say you didn’t fit in.”

  “Let’s ride,” he said. “I think better on the go.”

  Jody clucked to Flicka and they moved forward. She was glad Callum had arrived in time to enjoy the spring wildflowers and the bright new grass.

  Since he’d worked on ranches himself, he probably also noticed that some of the fence posts needed replacing, which was an endless job, and that one of the pastures might be a bit overgrazed. Gladys had suggested hiring another full-time hand and buying new equipment, but it would mean taking out a large loan. Jody wasn’t ready to face the risk.

  “I guess the place where I felt most out of place was in my own family,” Callum mused as they rode. “My parents were wonderful people, content living in a small town and running a store. They never understood why I was so eager to head off to college and see the world.”

  “They were proud of you.” Jody had dropped by the feed store occasionally after he left, eager for news of his activities.

  “I know, and I loved them a lot,” he said. “I wish I could have been the son they expected. It was hard on them, having their only child live so far away. But I took after my restless grandmother.”

  Jody recalled his mentioning once that his father’s mother had been a painter from Chicago who arrived in town to capture the Texas landscape and ended up marrying a local man. “She must have found something special in Everett Landing.”

  “I suppose she did, although she stopped painting after a while,” he said. “I think she romanticized the place to herself, and by the time she figured out that she’d boxed herself in, it was too late. But I’m just guessing. She died when I was little.”

  “Did she paint the landscape in your parents’ living room?” Jody had admired it when she visited there.

  He nodded. “She had quite a talent and a great imagination. Dad was nothing like her.”

  “Your father had his own gift,” Jody said. “He always had a kind word or a joke to brighten my day. You’re more like him than you realize.”

  She wondered if she’d said the wrong thing, because Callum changed the subject and began asking for details about the ranch. Or maybe he simply wanted to know more. He listened intently as she described how much she’d learned the last year as the cycle of seasons rolled past, from summer haying to winter repairs and spring calving.

  While she talked, Jody felt both satisfaction and the heavy weight of responsibility. With her students, she’d been able to measure their progress, and she could count on a paycheck. A ranch struggled to survive. She no sooner finished a chore than it needed doing again, and there was always the risk of a natural disaster or other financial setback.

  She tossed her head, letting her hair billow on the breeze. This was the life into which she’d been born, and she’d put down roots here.

  Even so, she hoped right down to her bones that soon she and the boys would be kicking up their heels beneath the spires of Notre Dame. Although she might lack Callum’s daring, once in a while she got restless, too.

  “YOU’RE HUMMING,” he said approvingly. Callum enjoyed the way Jody often hummed or sang under her breath as if a musical current ran through her veins.

  She blinked in surprise. “Was I?”

  He let the melody reverberate in his memory before identifying it. “It’s ‘Under Paris Skies.”’

  “Oh.” She blushed.

  All the while she’d been rhapsodizing aloud about her life as a rancher, she’d been dreaming of Gay Paree. “I understand how it feels to wish you were somewhere else,” Callum said.

  “I don’t wish I were somewhere else!”

  “You never wish you were in a classroom?”

  “That’s cheating,” she told him. “I was able to indulge my dream for a while. Maybe I’ll do it again when I get too old for physical labor, although standing in front of kids all day isn’t exactly easy.”

  “When we were in college, I half expected that you’d decide to come to California, too,” he said. “You seemed interested in the challenge of working in a larger school district, and you used to pepper me with questions about everything from Disneyland to the movie industry, as if I had some secret fount of knowledge.”

  “I was just curious because you were going there,” Jody said. “I wasn’t interested for myself. I’ve always known where I belong.”

  “You’ve always known where you felt safe,” Callum corrected. An unexpected thought occurred to him. The place you’ve always belonged is with me.

  That didn’t make sense. They’d spent so many years apart that in some ways they hardly knew each other. Yet in other ways, it felt as if no more than a few months had passed since they’d attended college together.

  “Let’s have our picnic over there.” Jody pointed out a stand of trees. “There’s a stream through the middle. It’s one of my favorite spots.”

  “I’m sold.”

  Inside the dappled grove, they set the horses free to graze. With their reins draped on the ground, the well-trained animals wouldn’t wander far.

  There was no need for words as he and Jody spread a blanket on the ground and helped themselves. In addition to the sandwiches, they’d packed carrots and cookies, which vanished swiftly.

  “Is my hair a mess?” Jody asked as they relaxed afterwards. She wore it loose, the way he preferred.

  “A little tangled maybe.” Callum plucked a twig from one curly strand. “Hold on.” He retrieved a folding comb from his pocket and, moving closer, began to work through her tangles.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Despite her words, Jody didn’t pull away.

  “I don’t mind.” Sitting behind her, he slid closer until she fit between his upraised knees. “You smell like roses.”

  “I smell like my shampoo.”

  “Could you be a little less romantic?” he teased.

  “We’re supposed to be testing our ability to remain platonic friends,” Jody reminded him.

  How could a man remain platonic with a softly built honey of a woman grasped between his thighs? Callum knew better than to even hint at his response to her, though, or Jody would whisk out of his grasp so fast she’d take the comb with her.

  He searched for a neutral topic. It wasn’t easy, because he kept picturing her in the shower, shampooing her hair with her arms raised and her full breasts thrust prominently the way she’d done after they made love. Correction: after the first time they made love and just before the second time.

  “Do you think I should cut my hair?” she asked.

  “It’s beautiful this way.”

  “It’s messy and it makes me look like an idiot,” she said. “The reason I wear it all one length is because Louise can cut it.”

  “You don’t look like an idiot,” Callum said. “I know actresses who would kill to have hair like yours.”

  “You’re lying!” Even
with her back turned, she radiated disbelief.

  “With the split ends trimmed off,” he amended.

  “I do not have split ends!”

  Callum laughed close to her neck, and felt her quiver in response. “I made that up. Seriously, you have lovely hair. Lovely everything else, too.”

  “No, I don’t. I could lose some weight,” Jody said.

  “What?” To him, her womanly figure had always been the standard to which he compared all others. “You’re built just right.”

  “I don’t look like a model, and don’t lie to me about it.” Although he couldn’t see her face, Callum imagined the way her lips must be twitching as she awaited his response.

  “I agree. You don’t look like a model.” He played the comb lightly against her scalp, doing his best to tantalize her. “If I put my arms around a model, all I feel are bones.”

  Her shoulders drooped. “You put your arms around them a lot, don’t you?”

  “Hardly ever. Let me show you what I mean.” Setting the comb aside, he stroked Jody’s cheek and trailed the back of his hand along her jawline. When the tension eased from her muscles and she issued a small sigh, Callum bowed his head until his nose grazed her neck. “There’s no one else I want to be this close to.”

  “Me, either,” she whispered.

  He collected her in his arms. Although his body tightened instinctively, Callum didn’t want to rush. Every moment with Jody was precious, he mused as he kissed her earlobe.

  The breeze sifted around them, filled with the scents of fields and trees. From nearby came the rustling of the horses as they fed. Callum didn’t remember when he’d known such utter peace.

  His arm brushed the swell of Jody’s breast. Her nipple hardened and he rubbed his wrist up and down against it.

  She arched her back, thrusting her breasts harder against his arm. That, he gathered, was a definite Go.

  As Callum unworked the buttons of Jody’s blouse, it occurred to him that this whole platonic business didn’t appear to be much of a success. He didn’t mind in the least.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I N TWENTY-NINE YEARS of hard living, Jody had accumulated her fair share of wisdom. For the chance of making love to Callum again, she tossed it all to the wind.