“I—” Cyler paused, twisting his lips. “Yeah, I did say that. But in my defense, you’d just won six games in a row. I still think you’re cheating.”
“Nah, it’s a dying man’s luck. That’s irony for you.”
Cyler rolled his eyes. “Whatever it is, you’ve got it.”
“Has there been any change in your pain? Any increase in pressure in your chest? How’s breathing?” Laken asked, regarding Jack.
His color wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the sallow bluish color of earlier. He coughed before answering, and she noted the way it sounded, much shallower than usual.
“I’m alive. That’s about as good as it’s going to get right now,” Jack answered. “And whooping his ass has made me tired. I think I earned a nap. So, if you two want to go out and take a ride or something, I promise not to die on you before dinner. Sound good?”
“You think so you’re so funny.” Laken narrowed her eyes, glaring.
“I am!” Jack leaned back, settling in bed and pulling up the thick quilt that covered him. “No arguing. Get out of here. You’re disturbing my peace.” He closed his eyes.
“I think we’ve been dismissed.” Cyler chuckled, the sound warm and inviting.
Laken faced him, noticing how the usual tension in his shoulders from being around Jack was absent. Maybe they’d talked more. She could only hope, because while Jack talked big, her gut told her time wasn’t their friend.
“C’mon, let the old man rest.”
“Who you calling old?” Jack grumbled, his eyes still closed.
“Exactly. Let’s go.” Cyler took her elbow gently and guided her down the hall. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re hungry?” he teased.
“I’m always hungry,” Laken answered.
“Well good. I planned something while you were sleeping.”
“Great movie.”
“Huh?” Cyler turned to her, frowning in confusion.
“While You Were Sleeping. It’s a great movie. I watch it every Christmas along with White Christmas. Classics.”
“Random thought of the day.” He shook his head good-naturedly.
“Wait, what did you plan?” Laken asked, curious.
“A picnic. Because I’m awesome. Go ahead, tell me.”
“You’re awesome.”
“Thank you.”
“And annoying.”
“I’ll take that too. I learned from the best.”
“Me?” Laken asked, chuckling.
“Nope. Jack.”
“That explains the hint of Jackass in the air.”
“Caught on to that, did you?”
“Are you going to feed me or not?” Laken popped a hip.
“Are you going to stop playing twenty questions?” Cyler returned.
She thought about continuing, just to piss him off, and gave a grin. “Probably not. But I am hungry.” She gave her most pitiful look.
“Not fair. Plus, I’m totally immune to your attempts at manipulation.” Cyler shrugged and walked into the kitchen. He picked up a basket and held it to the side.
“Whatever, you aren’t immune at all.” Laken walked up to him and slid her arm around his waist. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed along his jaw.
“So, that’s not manipulation. That’s seduction. And I’m totally into that. Don’t stop.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her.
She pulled away, winking and walking to the door. “Nah, hungry.”
“Cruel,” Cyler muttered, though his tone was amused.
“Don’t you forget it.” Laken glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming or not?”
Chuckling, Cyler caught up, taking her hand while holding the basket’s handles with the other. “I figured we’d ride. Margaret is fine now, and I know it’s been a while since she’s been out.”
Laken nodded. “I’d like that. Are you sure she’s okay, though? I mean, you, me, the food. That’s a lot of weight.”
“She’s a lot of horse.”
Laken giggled. “Yeah, she is. Alright. I see your point.” With a slide of the barn door, they spilled the early afternoon sun into the barn, and Margaret nickered in welcome.
“Hey you.” Laken released Cyler’s hand and walked up to her. She smoothed the soft velvet of Margaret’s muzzle. “Miss me?”
Margaret pressed farther into her hand, nipping at her fingers tenderly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Why don’t you give her a treat while I go and get her saddle?”
Laken crossed over to the tack room and pulled the box of sugar cubes from the shelf where she’d left them. She took two out and fed them to Margaret, smiling as the mare’s lips tickled her hand.
“Satisfied?” she asked, stroking the horse’s white star on her forehead.
“Probably not,” Cyler commented, opening the stall and laying a saddle blanket across Margaret’s back.
The mare huffed, as if irritated.
“Don’t you dare bite me.” Cyler cut a glare to her.
Margaret sighed and turned back to Laken as if seeking comfort.
“Big baby.”
“Spoiled baby,” Cyler corrected.
In short work, Margaret was saddled, bridled, and ready. Her head bobbed with each step out of the barn, ears perked, listening to the world around them.
Cyler handed the reins over to Laken then swung a leg over the saddle.
Margaret huffed, turning her head and giving a look to Cyler.
After reaching out a hand, Laken handed him both the reins and the basket from the ground where he’d set it. He put both in one hand and held out the other for her.
“I think I can manage.” Laken arched a brow. Grabbing the back of the saddle, she placed her foot in the stirrup, and as she swung onto Margaret’s back, she wrapped her hand around Cyler’s waist and held on. “See?”
“Maybe I offered help because I wanted to touch you, not because I thought you were incapable.” Cyler glanced back at her, grinning.
“Let’s go.” Laken held him tightly, immediately remembering their first ride.
It hadn’t been that long ago, yet felt like a lifetime. It was such sweet torture, wrapping her arms around him, feeling the solid nature of his body, its warmth, and trying to distance herself from it at the same time.
“Remember our first ride?” Cyler broke the silence.
“I was just thinking about that.”
Cyler chuckled. “You about killed me.”
Laken tilted her head. “How?”
“You were pressed so tight against my back I could feel ever curve of your body, even your breathing. Your perfume permeated my air, and your hips…damn. They moved against me with every step. I about lost my mind.”
Laken bit her lip. “Really? That’s…funny, actually. It wasn’t exactly easy for me either. I kept repeating, ‘Patient’s son. He’s my patient’s son…so hands off.’”
“I’m glad you didn’t listen to your own advice.”
“Me too.”
“Look.” Cyler jerked his chin to the west. A herd of mule deer were grazing along a shadowed hill, their long ears twitching as they watched from several yards away.
“Beautiful,” Laken whispered.
“They love it up here. Get pretty big too.”
After winding around a few rabbit bushes, Cyler took a left down a path. “You’ll like this. We went to the canyon last time, so now I’m going to show you my second favorite place.”
Laken waited for him to explain further, but the silence stretched on. “Are you going to tell me what we’re going to see?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Laken twisted her lips. “How long till I get to see the surprise?”
“Soon. Impatient much? Just enjoy the ride.�
�
“That sounds familiar.”
“Because you tend to be impatient in a lot of things,” Cyler shot back.
Laken’s face flamed. “The ride is my favorite part.”
“Keep talking like that, and we won’t make it to your surprise,” Cyler replied, his voice tight. “Damn it, keep up with this, and I won’t even be able to look at the horse without getting aroused, and that’s just…all kinds of awkward.”
Laughing, Laken leaned her head against his warm back, focusing on the heat of the sunshine on her skin, the smooth rhythm of the horse, and now, the soft sound of running water.
“A creek?” Laken asked.
“Yup. Just ahead.”
Laken twisted to see around Cyler. Sure enough, there was a small creek running through a basalt ravine, but what stole her attention was the color surrounding the rock. Bright orange and blue flowers grew beside the water, shifting gently in the soft breeze. “That’s beautiful. What are those?”
“It’s orange globe mallow and lobelia.”
Laken took in the startling color against the mostly brown landscape.
“They can live here longer because of the water. I used to come here and pick flowers for my mom. She’d put them on the table, and more than once, we’d have to kill some bug making a run for it during dinner, but she didn’t complain.” Cyler chuckled.
“That’s the risk with wildflowers, I guess,” Laken replied, imagining the scene.
“There’s usually a patch of rye grass that stays a little greener than most, and that rock over there is a good table.” He pulled up Margaret and halted her. Holding out his hand, he offered to help Laken slide down. After taking his warm grasp, she placed her foot in the stirrup and slid off.
Soon they were setting up the tabletop rock with the packed lunch. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.” Cyler grinned, his blue eyes crinkling as he handed over a bottle of water. “Margaret seems pretty satisfied as well.”
The mare was tied to a basalt column, a slack rein allowed her to munch on the green rye grass, her bit clinking slightly with her chewing.
Laken reached over toward the basket to help, but Cyler pulled the basket away, almost protective. “I’ve got this. Just sit there and let me take care of you.”
She sighed, pulling her arm back. It was nice to be thought of, to be taken care of. She hadn’t really noticed its absence until Cyler had started to do the little things, like making sure she had a nap. Or making her breakfast, or any other meal. He was usually there, whenever possible, and his first thought was always for her. It humbled her, blessed her, made her fall deeper and deeper in love with him each day.
Cyler handed her a sandwich, breaking through her thoughts.
She accepted with a smile and took a big bite.
Lunch was over all too soon, and after finishing, Cyler grew pensive.
“What’s up?” Laken asked, studying his features.
Cyler met her gaze, his blue eyes searching hers. A small smile turned his full lips upward as he leaned forward. “Marry me.”
Laken blinked, replaying the short phrase over and over, making sure that she’d heard it correctly. “Marry you?” she asked, just to make sure.
“Yeah. Marry me, Laken. Life is full of choices, full of opportunities, full of beauty. I never fully understood that. I don’t want to live like I have been. Loving you is the biggest risk I’ve ever taken, and while I tease you about not giving you a choice, the truth of it is that I never had a choice either. It was you, right away. I fought a losing battle with my heart, but it was really a losing battle against the man I was afraid to be. And you…you helped me find myself again. I don’t want to live life in a way that when I’m old like Jack, I look back and see everything I’ve lost. I want to look back and see everything I’ve gained. And I can’t imagine looking back on my life and not seeing you living it with me.”
Warm tears made silent trails down her face as she let Cyler’s words pour over her soul, permeate it with love.
“So, to make it a little more official…” Cyler reached into the basket and pulled out a blue box.
Laken gave a watery laugh. “No wonder you didn’t want me helping.”
“I told you it was a surprise.” Cyler grinned, opening the box and holding out a rose-gold ring. Emerald-cut diamonds made a trinity of beauty as they twinkled in their velvet case.
“Laken, marry me?” He knelt on one knee. His expression one of fierce hope, and it stole her breath as it seared its power on her heart.
“Yes,” she breathed the word, tears streaming down her cheeks while she reached out and pulled him into a tight hug.
“You know how to keep a man waiting,” Cyler taunted, pulling back to kiss her full on the mouth, branding her with his flavor, with his apparent joy.
His mouth was hot against hers, demanding and powerful as held her tightly in his arms. Slowly he softened the kiss then pulled away entirely.
“Come back.” Lake leaned forward, trying to meet his lips.
“In a moment. There’s something we need to finish.” He lifted the ring from the box and held it out. Sliding the ring on her left hand, it winked in the sunlight, a perfect fit.
Curious, Laken glanced to him, about to ask how he knew her size.
“I measured your hand when you were sleeping,” Cyler confessed.
“Devious.”
“Nah, I prefer planning ahead,” he corrected, pulling her in tight again then kissing her nose.
“We can go with that,” Laken agreed.
“I love you,” Cyler whispered against her lips before placing a lingering kiss there.
“I love you more,” Laken returned softly before meeting his lips for a repeat performance.
“Doubtful, but I’m okay with you trying.”
Laken giggled, reaching up then tracing his jaw with her fingers, a question forming in her mind. “Does Jack know? Is that why he kicked us out?” Laken asked, her eyes widening with realization.
Cyler nodded, lifting her hand to display the ring. “This ring was actually my mother’s. I spoke with Jack about it, and he…well, he kinda surprised me. Again. I swear it’s his new hobby, keeping me on my toes—or stepping on them. Take your pick.” Cyler chuckled.
“What did he say?” Laken asked, studying Cyler’s blue eyes.
“He said that we could redeem it for him.” He shook his head, a slight smile tipping his lips. “I had mentioned having some reservations about giving you my mom’s ring when it didn’t exactly symbolize a strong marriage. I want more for you, for us. Jack simply reminded me that it’s not the ring. It’s who wears it.” Cyler lifted her hand and kissed it softly.
“Jack’s getting wise in his old age.”
“It’s about damn time,” Cyler returned, laughing quietly.
“I love this ring. I’m thankful that it was your mother’s. It’s a beautiful thing to carry history.”
“But not repeat it,” Cyler added, a wry grin to his lips.
“True story. But I’m not worried.” Laken reached up and cupped his chin in her hand, making sure she had his full attention before continuing. “I’m not afraid of trusting you with my heart, Cyler. I know it’s in good hands. It might not always be easy. In fact, I’m pretty sure once or twice I’ll want to punch you in the throat”—she giggled—“but that won’t change the fact that…till death do us part.” She sealed her words with a soft kiss.
“Till death do us part,” Cyler repeated the promise against her lips.
Laken lost herself to the moment, to the kiss, memorizing each sensation, each scent, sound, and taste. And slowly, as Cyler pulled back, meeting her gaze, she closed her eyes, so thankful, so grateful, so at peace.
“We should probably get back. Jack’s going to be chomping at the bit to know if you rejected m
e or not,” Cyler badgered, reaching down and smacking her ass playfully.
“He’s not wondering that. He knows,” Laken corrected as they cleaned up their picnic site.
“Sure, sure.” Cyler winked.
And soon they were on their way back to the ranch, Margaret plodding along. Laken enjoyed the scenery even more as she wound back up the hill.
Cyler tied Margaret up near the barn and helped Laken off. She took the basket to the kitchen as Cyler brushed down the mare. Then she made her way down the hall to Jack’s room. After softly knocking on the door, she waited a moment before opening it up.
“So?” Jack was shifting himself so that he sat upright, his blue eyes twinkling with anticipation.
“It was a nice picnic,” Laken replied, holding her hand behind her back.
Jack narrowed his eyes. “And?”
“And Margaret is doing much better.” Laken nodded, using her right hand to check the IV fluids.
After a quick study of the monitors she turned to Jack. His face was pinched, his gaze suspicious.
“What? Are you not feeling well? Are you in pain?” Laken taunted, thankful that she could at least pester Jack a bit.
“Huh.” Jack folded his hands on his lap, his expression guarded. “Nope. Fit as a fiddle. A broken one, but a fiddle none the less. Can you hand me that book over there?” He pointed to a shelf to the side of the bed.
Laken turned to reach it.
“I knew it!” Jack shouted, startling her so that she dropped the book she’d just grabbed.
“Jack! You scared the life out of me. What in the world are you talking about?” Laken turned, glaring as she bent to pick up the book.
“Your hand. I see it. I see it with my own eyes, girl. You’re a rotten liar.” He clapped, chuckling happily.
Laken bit her lip, trying to force a stern stare. “You’re sneaky.”
“Like a silver fox,” he shot back. “You’re a mean one, Laken. I’d expect something like that from my son, but not you. I’m disappointed.” He nodded self-righteously.
“What did she do now?” Cyler asked as he walked into the room.
“Your fiancée here tried to pull the wool over my eyes. I think she’s ashamed of you, son.” Jack coughed, but it didn’t hide his grin.
Heart of a Cowboy Page 20
