07 It Had to Be You

by Jill Shalvis

Jake slowed and took it all in, from the maze of rock formations to the incredible view. He tried to imagine his father standing on this very spot—it wasn’t hard.

  “It’s where we came to spread his ashes,” Tucker said. “Remember, you left the morning after the service? We all came out here that afternoon.”

  Jake looked out into the valley below and waited, desperate to feel something, anything, other than an aching emptiness and sadness for not feeling more. “What am I supposed to say? Sorry?”

  “Not to me.”

  He opened his mouth to tell Tucker what he’d told Callie, that the street between Richard and Jake had gone two ways, but suddenly that seemed like an excuse. Maybe Richard hadn’t made a move, but Jake could have. If for nothing else than to get rid of all this useless regret and loss.

  They stopped before sunset to make camp. Jake looked at the hard, wide open land and wished for a bed. Eddie set up the tents, smiling and flirting with their guests when they all jumped in to help him, but Jake knew him now, and for the first time, Eddie’s easy-going nature was forced.

  “It’s Stone,” Tucker told him quietly as they set up a barbeque pit, gathering large stones to make a circle. “He misses his brother.”

  Because that sounded a little like an accusation, Jake picked up a larger rock than he’d intended.

  “Christ, don’t even try to help if you’re going to go all pale and pretend your shoulder isn’t killing you,” Tucker said, disgusted.

  “It’s not killing me.” There were degrees of pain, as he’d learned all too well. On a scale of one to ten, he was only at a six, and that was saying something. And actually, so was the fact that Tucker had noticed his pain at all, and without a derogatory comment. “Can’t Eddie just call Stone’s cell?”

  “Stone isn’t answering. Now Eddie’s all bent that Stone didn’t tell anyone but Callie where he is. He’s worried.”

  And clearly, so was Tucker. “You guys are all pretty close.”

  “We’re family,” Tucker said simply, and lit the fire.

  And you’re not. That message had been loud and clear in the past, but he’d thought today the lines between the ranch and himself had finally seemed to blur somewhat. Tucker, while not overwhelmingly friendly by any means, had seemed to lose at least some of his antagonism.

  Great timing. He’d finally softened, and Jake had spoken to his Realtor only yesterday, who’d assured him she could sell the ranch quickly.

  He’d lived for that, and yet the truth was, he could have gone back to San Diego without waiting for the sale. He could take care of himself now, and while work was still out of the question, surely the media frenzy had died down.

  But he hadn’t gone anywhere. Learning to fit into this group of self-titled misfits no longer seemed so bad. Especially since at the moment no one wore the title of misfit better than he.

  Tucker nodded in satisfaction at his blazing fire, then pulled out a sheet of paper filled with neat, precise handwriting. He read some of it and swore. “She should have come out herself, damn it. I’m not going to peel the cucumbers in little strips. And what the hell does she mean, toss the salad? We shouldn’t even be having salad, that’s not camping food.”

  “It is for women,” Jake said.

  Tucker’s head whipped up, eyes lit with ready attitude, but then he caught the teasing light in Jake’s eyes and let out what was the closest thing to a laugh that he was going to get. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Across the fire near the tents, Eddie had some of the women all over him while he put the gear into the shelters. The rest were waiting to jump on his every whim.

  “Why aren’t you joining him?” Jake asked Tucker. “That must be one of the benefits, right? Beautiful guests? Harmless flirting?”

  Tucker was still reading his directions and muttering. “It’s complicated.”

  “You mean it’s a woman complicated. Amy complicated.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  “Every single last one,” Jake said fervently.

  Tucker lifted his narrowed gaze and studied him. “You’re not having women trouble, not here,” he said flatly. “Tell me you’re not. Because there’s only Callie, and since you’re leaving, there’d be nothing about her giving you trouble, nothing at all.”

  “Tucker—”

  “You’re painting. You’re selling us out. And then you’re leaving. In that order. Remember?”

  “I’m not selling you out. I can’t keep the ranch, I can’t—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this story, so save it.” He shoved Amy’s long note in his pocket and stalked off.

  They didn’t talk again, other than to communicate about what needed to be done. Callie checked in regularly by radio with Tucker, though she didn’t talk to Jake.

  Had he actually thought he might be fitting in? He’d been dreaming. That night and the next, Jake dealt with rocks beneath his sleeping bag, clinging women, and more bugs than he’d ever seen. Thankfully he lived, and two mornings later they finally rode out.

  By that time, Jake couldn’t remember why he was still there. He missed hot water and a bed, and it was likely his butt would never be the same after all those hours in the saddle.

  All he wanted was a plane ticket home, whether he could be a firefighter or not, whether he’d sold the ranch or not.

  Then they rode back onto the ranch, and he saw Callie standing on the porch of the big house. She wore her usual jeans and tank with a blouse layered over it. No hat today, which left her fiery hair blowing around her face and shoulders. She stood tall and proud, and just looking at her filled him with a longing he didn’t fully understand.

  And suddenly the plane ride took a backseat to being with her.

  She saw him, he was certain of it, yet she didn’t react. Undeterred, he dismounted, threw the reins to Eddie, then strode forward. He took Callie’s arm and pulled her off the steps. “Two things.”

  She looked around, making sure they were alone, which frankly, he didn’t care about. The guests had gone inside with Amy to pack up for their departure, and Eddie and Tucker weren’t paying either of them any notice.

  “Forget everyone else,” he said. “First, I’m never camping again.”

  “That’s a shame since you’re finally walking like a cowboy.”

  “If that means that I look like I’ve been in the saddle for days, I have, thank you. I think I broke my ass, if you’re concerned. Now listen up, Callie, for thing number two, and this probably should have been first. Hell, this should have been said days ago, but we’re both pretty damn bull-headed.”

  “Jake—”

  “I didn’t sleep with Cici.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “She slept in my bed, I slept in Tucker’s. And I would have put her in another room, as far away from me as I could get her, but the ranch manager wasn’t very accommodating.”

  She bit her lower lip. “Is that right?”

  “Extremely right. In fact, she was mean and rude, and jumped to conclusions. Wrong conclusions.” He took her hand. “Callie, I had just been trying to get into your bed. How could you think I would—”

  “I don’t know.” She shoved her fingers through her hair. “You drive me crazy.”

  “Ditto. But no matter what you think of me, say that deep down you know that. I wouldn’t sleep with another woman, not when I want you.”

  She stared at him. “You’re telling me the truth.”

  “Hell, yeah, I’m telling you the truth.”

  He saw acceptance of that truth dawn in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you better than that.”

  “That’s all right, I just figured out how you can repay me.” He tugged her close and kissed her. He had no idea why exactly, other than he’d felt like an outsider for so long, and that hadn’t changed much, but she was the one person out here who seemed to let him be whatever he needed to be, idiot or not.

  She hesitated, her hands in the air, hovering above his sh
oulders. He lifted his face a fraction, staring into her eyes, and then changing the angle of his head, kissed her again. He’d meant only for a quick, hot connection but God, the taste and feel of her filled his head. He’d missed her so much, and hadn’t even realized it until now. In fact, he was so blown over by the realization, he nearly pulled back again, but she startled him by pressing closer and touching her tongue to his.

  It made no sense, but the odd sense of loneliness he’d experienced since he’d been there dissipated. It always did when he was with her. Maybe that was because of all the blood draining from his head for parts further south, but he had enough sense left to know it was more than physical. With a low, wordless murmur of need, he slid his hand down her slim back, fingers spread wide to touch all of her that he could, then fisted his fingers in the material of her shirt, anchoring her to him.

  When he finally pulled back, she blinked up at him, looking a little surprised that they were still on the steps out in broad daylight. She looked over at Eddie and Tucker still removing saddles and brushing down horses, neither of them paying them any attention. “What was that?” she whispered.

  “I was trying to get you to look at me like you’re looking at me right now.”

  “Which is how, exactly?”

  He stared into her eyes, absorbing the heat, the reluctant affection. “Like I’m not such a bad guy. Like maybe you missed me, too. Like maybe you even want me half as much as I want you.”

  “Those things are all true,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Jake, you don’t even want to be here.”

  “Right now I do.” To avoid argument, he kissed her again. Her mouth was open a little, in surprise no doubt, and he took full advantage of that, sweeping his tongue in, dancing it to hers.

  An “mmmm” rumbled in her throat, and when they came up for air this time, her eyes were slumberous and just a bit wary. “What are we doing?”

  “I haven’t a clue. But I’m game. Say you are, too.”

  “For that spring fling?”

  Was she offering? Before he could ask, Stone came out of the barn, and joined Eddie and Tucker in removing saddles.

  “He’s back,” Jake said, glad to see him.

  “He’s back. I need to go help.”

  “Yeah, in a second.” He turned her chin back to face him. Her lips were still wet and he wanted to kiss her again. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened while we were gone?”

  “Other than I relaxed for the first time in nearly a month?”

  “Because I was out of here?”

  She smiled, touched her nose, then moved down the steps. Crossing the driveway, she entered the corral and walked up to a dark mare whose name he couldn’t remember. He followed, knowing enough of the routine now to automatically help. Coming back after a trip, there was always a lot to do. Eyeing the mare with caution, he moved around it to stand next to Callie, then reached for the saddle.

  She brushed him away. “Too heavy for you.”

  “I can take them off, I just can’t put them on.” He stepped in front of her and this time she let him. “You’re getting so much better,” she said, and he heard the rest of the unspoken sentence.

  You’ll be leaving soon.

  “How was camping?” she asked. “Tucker told me you complained about everything.”

  So she didn’t want to talk about his leaving. That made two of them, since he’d have to face the fact that when he left, he had nothing to go back to. “I did not complain about everything.”

  She lifted a brow.

  “Okay, I might have said we should have thicker pads to sleep on, ones that actually work. For the guests’ comfort.”

  “How are you and Tucker doing?”

  “Well, there was no bloodshed.”

  She rolled her eyes and pulled a few pink phone messages out of her pocket, slapping them in his hand. “Your cell phone wasn’t working out there. You got some calls at the house.”

  The first was from his real estate agent. Got a preliminary report for you on selling. Call me when you’re ready and we’ll set it in gear.

  Callie watched him read it, then without waiting for him to look at the two other messages, picked up the saddle and walked away.

  Jake finished his phone call and sat back in Callie’s office chair. His lawyer had been message number two. Billy’s mother was looking for them to offer her some sort of settlement, a huge monetary one, which they wouldn’t do. He couldn’t.

  And even though he knew Joe would already know, Jake picked the phone back up and returned his third message.

  “Sucks,” Joe said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll beat it.”

  Maybe. But it was going to break him first.

  “Just got back from an industrial fire in Del Mar,” Joe said. “Three warehouses down to the ground, no fatalities. They could have used you there today. Half the station’s out with the flu. How’s the shoulder?”

  Jake rolled first his left shoulder—no problem—and then his right. Problem. He could toss down a saddle, he could ride for days, but he had no lifting strength and little finesse or arm control. “Much better,” he lied.

  “Define better.”

  Well, he didn’t want to cry at every little movement. “Good enough to come back.” At least in his dreams.

  “Thank God. I thought maybe you were enjoying yourself a little too much out there.”

  Jake pictured Callie’s smile, could still taste it on his lips. He was enjoying himself too much. In fact, he was just a little afraid of how much.

  “Jake? Call your doctor, get approval. I know it’s only been two months since surgery, but if you’re better, you’re better, right?”

  There was no chance in hell he could fool his doctor. But the thought of staying here, of never going back, of never getting into his gear and back in his life made his heart kick painfully. “I won’t be shimmying up any ladders or hanging off any ledges,” he admitted. “But there’s other things I could do.”

  “Jake—”

  “I could train.” He’d never really thought about it before, never had to. But he had to get out of here before he fell for that cowgirl Joe had asked about. Before he convinced himself his life was over if he couldn’t get back to work. And actually, now that the impromptu idea had blossomed, why not train? If he couldn’t actually fight fires, why not teach others to do it?

  “Yeah, training. That could work. There’s an entire new class of recruits coming through in three weeks, and you’re qualified for it. Certainly no doctor could object to a little teaching, right? Are you really up for it?”

  Jake tried rolling his shoulder again, and felt the color drain from his face. “Three weeks, I’ll be good as gold.” He disconnected, then looked out the window into the day that had glorious written all over it. Wide blue sky with only the occasional white puff of cloud. Rocky, jagged mountains in the distance, standing as tall and proud as the people here at the Blue Flame. Callie was still out there working with the guys, giving her usual one hundred and ten percent, the way she always did, the way he suspected she always would, in every single aspect of her life.

  A life he didn’t belong in anymore than Cici did. Granted, he’d miss the people; he’d miss Callie. More than he wanted to. But it was time to concentrate on his own life, not his father’s and what he’d left behind.

  He thought about that as he fingered the message from the real estate agent. He returned her call. “I’m ready.”

  16

  The sisters left, and their next group came in, eight college students on spring break. Callie looked at the young guys, all of whom had lugged in their own stash of beer, and shook her head. Nowhere in their brochure or on their website did it promote college break, wild parties, or anything to remotely attract such a crowd. But they’d paid good money to work the ranch for three days, and here they were.

  They wanted to take an overnight trip into the hills to see ancient Indian gr
ounds and anything else spooky, so that’s what the Blue Flame would provide.

  She was going to lead them, with Tucker and Eddie. She didn’t often go out on the overnights, preferring to stay with the ranch and watch over the animals and land, but she had a very good reason for replacing Stone on this trip.

  He’d just taken three days of personal leave to go home to his father, an alcoholic who’d been dry ten years now. Stone wanted to know how his father had given up drinking. Callie had spent some time with Stone since he’d come back. He appeared to have a handle on things, but she knew appearances could be deceiving, and she couldn’t in good conscience send him out into the wilderness for two days with a bunch of party-hardy guests his own age. So now she stood in the barn with Stone, delicately trying to get around this without hurting his feelings. “I was thinking you could stay here,” she said casually. “I’ll take this one. I haven’t been out in a long time.”

  He looked at her doubtfully. “You want to go out with a bunch of drunk college punks?”

  “They’re not drunk.”

  “Not yet, but it’s only six in the morning.”

  “We’ll go around the high canyons instead of through them.” She smiled. “They’ll definitely be drinking by then, and I don’t want to lose anyone over the edge.”

  He shook his head and took her hand. “I can handle this, Cal.”

  “Of course you can. I just need to get outside, that’s all.”

  “We both know why you’re offering, and it’s not for you to get outside.”

  “Does it really matter, Stone?”

  He stared at her hand in his for a long moment. She expected an argument. Instead he sighed and pulled her close in a tight hug.

  She hugged him back, and closed her eyes. God, she loved these guys, every last one of them. If Jake sold to someone who didn’t want to keep them all on—

  Footsteps and voices sounded just outside, and Stone pulled back to look into her eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, and kissed her, right on the mouth. He grinned just as Eddie and Tucker entered the barn. “And that’s how you revive the cow if she stops breathing.”