Gallant Golfer (River's End Ranch Book 10)

by Cindy Caldwell

  Chad waved to a very pretty—and clearly pregnant—young woman at the end of the counter, and she returned his smile and gestured for them to take a seat. She looked vaguely familiar to Emma, but she couldn’t quite place her. Chad headed toward a booth that looked out over the ranch, and she slid in opposite him.

  She grabbed a menu from the side of the table, not wanting to waste a second getting to her French fries. “What’s good here?” she asked Chad, although it didn’t matter. She knew what she was going to have—a patty melt, French fries and a side of blue cheese dressing. She didn’t have it often, but it was her favorite.

  “Everything, actually. I come here quite a bit as I’m in residence. I don’t mind cooking, but it’s not always fun for one.”

  The pretty woman who had shown them in came over, an order pad in her hand. “Hi, Chad. Nice to see you,” she said and her smile radiated kindness. Clearly, she was happy about her impending motherhood—and about most everything else, Emma guessed.

  “Hi, Kelsi. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine’s sister, Emma,” he said, gesturing toward her. “Emma, this is Kelsi Clapper, formerly Weston.”

  Emma took the woman’s extended hand and shook it, Kelsi’s smile contagious. “Oh, Weston. Are you related to Dani?”

  Kelsi laughed so hard her belly shook. “Well, I have answered that question many ways. However, yes, I am. She’s my sister. My twin sister.”

  “Oh!” Emma said, feeling a little foolish that she hadn’t known that. Now that she looked more closely, past the difference in their hair—Kelsi’s was long and blonde hair, was worlds apart from Dani’s short-cropped brown hair—she could see the resemblance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t put two and two together.”

  “No worries. I hope she’s treating you well. She can be a little cranky.”

  “Cranky? I haven’t noticed that at all. In fact, she’s been very helpful. Loaned me her golf clubs.”

  “She did, did she?” Kelsi asked, eyeing Chad. “You guys been out at the course?”

  “We have,” Chad said. “All morning.”

  Kelsi leaned in and whispered to Emma. “Well, be careful. I have it on good authority that there’s been a Bigfoot sighting not far from the ninth hole.” She nodded and set her pen to her pad. “What can I get for you? The usual, Chad?”

  “Yes, please,” he said as he closed his menu and set it back on the table, his eyebrows raised at Emma.

  Emma was so surprised she almost couldn’t remember what to order. Bigfoot? But she’d ordered it so many times, it came out on its own. “Patty melt, French fries well done and a side of blue cheese dressing, please.”

  Kelsi laughed and looked from Emma to Chad. “Okay, got it, times two. Must be a sign,” she said as she nodded at them and turned toward the kitchen.

  “Times two?” Emma said, her head still reeling at the Bigfoot information.

  Chad stared at her, his mouth open.

  “What?”

  “You just ordered the same thing I have almost every time I come. Patty melt, fries well done with a side of blue cheese.”

  “I did? I mean, you did?” Emma frowned and looked over to Kelsi, who handed the ticket to a man in the kitchen who smiled at both of them and nodded.

  “I guess so. I’ve loved that combination since I was a kid. It’s kind of random. Where did you learn to dip your fries in blue cheese dressing? Well done ones, at that?”

  She shook her head as she tried to remember. Was it something her mother used to have? Her brother? All she knew was that it was her favorite, and apparently his, too.

  This was all a lot of information for her on an empty stomach, and she hoped that their food would come quickly. She looked up as a pretty woman crossed over to the table and scooted in beside Chad.

  “Hey, Lily,” Chad said as the woman smiled at Emma and held out her hand.

  “As he just said, I’m Lily,” the woman said and Emma took her hand, looking from Chad to Lily and back to Chad. It hadn’t crossed her mind for one second to find out whether he was single. Was he?

  “Emma,” she said when she’d found her voice.

  “I know. Wade told me all about you and your brother and the other guy,” she said. “I don’t follow golf, but Wade says you all are famous, or were. Or they are,” she said. “Well, you know what I mean.”

  Chad didn’t look one bit uncomfortable. He had been famous once, but he seemed to prefer what he was doing now at the ranch. Emma could see why—he certainly was good at it.

  “Anyway, Wade said you’re having an exhibition this weekend and I need to know some particulars to I can arrange things. What do you do for an exhibition? Food? No food? What?”

  Chad turned to Emma. “Lily is the event coordinator here at the ranch. Does a great job, and as you can tell is very thorough.”

  “Well, I try to be,” Lily said as she smiled at Chad. “But I’ve never done a professional golfing exhibition before. I might need some help. At least tell me what they’re like and I can make it happen.”

  Kelsi mercifully set down their food and Emma listened as Chad described to Lily what they should have on exhibition day, things she’d seen many times on the tour. Her lunch was heavenly, and she smiled at the excitement in Chad’s eyes as he described what he hoped would happen. At that moment, she wasn’t at all sure that he didn’t miss being on tour.

  CHAPTER 11

  “I ’ll meet you at Wade’s this evening to finalize the arrangements,” Lily said as Chad paid the check, waved at Kelsi and headed back out to the cart. She would have everything well in hand by then, Emma could tell, and while she had to try to find a way out of actually golfing in the exhibition—she hadn’t even hit a ball yet—it was starting to sound like something that would be fun to watch.

  Chad slid into the cart just as she got to it, and he grimaced, rubbing his shoulder. She wasn’t sure exactly what his injury was, but she sensed he was in pain and struggled to work through it.

  “I told Jaclyn I’d stop by today with a salve I’ve developed for stiff muscles. Any chance you’d let me take a look at your shoulder? It might help you, too,” she said as she settled into the seat beside him.

  He ran his hand through his hair, a lock falling over his forehead. He turned to her, and the sun hit his eyes at just the right spot—he had dark blue rings around the lighter blue of his irises, and she could actually see the pain in them.

  “I’m all right,” he said as he looked away, backing the cart up and heading toward the old west town.

  She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. She’d never understood why people chose to stay in pain when they didn’t have to. Her lotion had helped hundreds of people—Skip included—and she really wanted to help.

  He drove through a gate and into what looked to Emma to be the past, and she gawked at the old buildings—they sure did look old—and smiled at people meandering along old-fashioned, raised planks. Boots sounded on the boardwalk and ladies in old-time dresses passed in and out of shops.

  “This is wonderful,” she said as she turned away from the storefronts and gazed up at a tall pine tree, smack in the middle of the old town. He stopped as she leaned out of the cart and looked up.

  “What a beautiful tree,” she said quietly and looked around. “It just begs for Christmas lights, doesn’t it?”

  “Soon enough,” Chad said as he continued along the road.

  As they approached the small building that said “Sadie’s Saloon,” Emma groaned. “Here we go,” she said as she leaned back against the seat and stiffened.

  “Ugh. Brian and Skip are heading into the saloon.” Emma couldn’t help herself as her legs stiffened and the cowboy boots she’d put back on after golfing seemed to shove themselves into the floor the golf cart.

  “They’re waving us over. Not sure we can pretend we didn’t see them at this point.” Chad smiled and waved, steering the golf cart over to the saloon and parking right in front.

  Chad hopped out a
nd shook hands with Brian, but Skip hadn’t taken his eyes off of Emma. They all three then looked at her as she remained in the cart, unable to remove her feet from the floor.

  “How was the lesson?” Brian asked from the boardwalk. “Fun?”

  “It was wonderful,” Emma said as she smoothed her curls back into some semblance of a ponytail and wrapped the rubber band around it. She did her best to ignore Skip’s eyes boring into her and looked directly at her brother, smiling. “The course is beautiful. You guys are going to love it.”

  Skip frowned and turned to Chad. “Did you teach her the right grip? How’s her swing?”

  “All good, Skip. Everything under control,” Chad said as he rolled his shoulder. “She’s going to be a natural.”

  “So we’re all set for the exhibition?” Brian said as he walked down the two steps from the boardwalk and crossed over to where Emma was seated, still in the golf cart.

  “I haven’t even hit a ball yet,” she said as she scrunched her nose at her brother. “Your plan to humiliate has not yet come to fruition.”

  Brian laugh and slapped his hand on the top of the golf cart. “I’m not trying to humiliate you, sister. Trying to make sure you have a little fun.”

  “She hasn’t hit a ball yet?” Skip said as he bared his teeth in what Emma guessed was supposed to be a grin.

  Chad shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping back and nodding as a young couple stepped out of the saloon. They both held ice cream cones. They looked a little odd together, Emma thought—the young woman was dressed much more colorfully than the young man, the tips of her hair a teal color. The young man was very tall and dressed like someone from the city in a neat button-down shirt and loafers. They both held ice cream cones, and the man said, “Best ice cream in town,” to the group as he smiled at Chad and Skip before walking down the boardwalk. They were clearly in love.

  “Ice cream?” Skip smirked. “What kind of a saloon is this?”

  “And ice cream parlor type of saloon and no, she hasn’t hit a ball yet,” Chad said after they’d gone.

  Skip snickered and rolled his eyes. “What kind of teacher are you?” he asked as he clapped his hand hard on Chad’s bad shoulder.

  Chad winced and took a step back, squaring his shoulders. “An experienced one. I’ve learned over the past few years that grip and form matter, and as soon as she has that down, she’ll be hitting balls like a pro.”

  Emma laughed at that, and came to Chad’s defense. “I trust him completely. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, and I look forward to doing my best. I still, however, can’t imagine I’ll be very good at it.”

  Skip squinted at Chad, his face darkening. Emma didn’t mind one bit seeing him uncomfortable, and she smiled sweetly at Chad, batting her eyelashes for emphasis. If she couldn’t get away from Skip altogether, the least she could do was make him squirm.

  “We’re just heading in for a root beer float, Emma,” Brian said. “Come join us.” He reached his hand out for hers, smiling down at her.

  “Oh, I—” She looked up at her brother, not wanting to spend any of her vacation near Skip that she didn’t have to.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun,” he said, still waiting with his hand extended.

  Her eyes met Chad’s and started to rub his shoulder. “Sorry, she can’t. That lesson took a toll on my shoulder and she promised she’d help. Share some of her expertise.”

  Emma’s eyebrows rose and her lips parted in surprise.

  “Yes, I did. We’re on our way to do a session. Least I could do after he’d spent so much time on my grip and swing,” she said sweetly as she watched Skip’s face redden.

  “Ah, no problem, then,” Brian said as he nodded at Emma. “Nice of you to help.” He hopped back up the steps and said to Chad, “You’re in good hands, my man.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Skip grumbled as he yanked open the door of the saloon and headed inside.

  Brian winked at her before he followed Skip into the saloon, and Emma sighed as Chad climbed back into the cart.

  “Thanks for that,” she said quietly as they pulled away. “I’m going to have to see him plenty later. Nice to have a break.”

  Chad glanced at her quickly, then trained his eyes on the road ahead. “My pleasure. Anything to help out a damsel in distress,” he said as he smiled. “I’ll just drop you off at the cottage. They’ll be gone a while.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I imagine you just said that to get me out of a root beer float with Skip, and I’m grateful. But don’t think you’re going to get out of the treatment,” she said, cocking her head.

  He turned to her, his alarmed expression making her laugh.

  “You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily, did you? I can help you, and I insist. Then we won’t be lying. I don’t like liars, so I refuse to be one. Consider my honor at stake.”

  He drew in a long breath. “Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to tarnish your honor, or blemish your reputation, madame. I suppose one treatment won’t hurt. Thank you.”

  She settled back in her seat. “I hope it won’t hurt. And if it does, it won’t be on purpose,” she said, laughing loudly as he turned to her, his eyes wide. She rested her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. I was just kidding. I would never hurt you.”

  CHAPTER 12

  “I thought you said this wouldn’t hurt,” Chad said, wincing as Emma lifted his arm up over his shoulder.

  “Oh, stop. It can’t hurt that bad. I’m just looking. I haven’t even started.”

  Chad groaned and Emma laughed as she dropped his arm and set down her massage table in the small and neat living room of Chad’s cabin. It was only a short walk from the Copper Cottage, and he’d dropped her off so she could pick up her massage table and other supplies.

  “Massage table?” he said, his eyebrows rising as he spotted the table. “Sports therapy is massage?”

  Emma sighed. Lots of people thought they were the same thing, including Skip when he’d first agreed to contract with her for her internship hours. In fact, they’d had several go-arounds about how much he preferred her massage therapy to the ones that would actually help his wrists.

  “Don’t get any ideas. This is work, not just pleasure,” she said as she pushed aside the coffee table. “If you want to work out any of those kinks, there’ll be exercises and manual manipulation techniques.”

  “Manual manipulation techniques. Is that the part where you don’t hurt me?” he asked as he set the table up for her in the middle of the room.

  “Are you always such a wimp?” She emptied her bag of the oils, salves and towels she’d brought over, certain that she’d have something to help him. She was anxious to try her special salve on him, too, and she set the bottles and towels neatly on the counter.

  “What’s that?” he asked as she got out the paraffin wax warmer and set it on the counter, searching for an electrical outlet.

  “It’s a warmer for paraffin wax. It needs to be hot for me to spread it out well on your shoulder. Ah, here’s one,” she said as she plugged in the warmer and turned toward the room.

  “You’re going to spread hot wax on me?”

  She cocked her head, her hands on her hips. “Well, yes. Yes, I am,” she said as she placed the paraffin in the warmer.

  “This sounds more like medieval torture than any treatment I’ve ever had.”

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward a mirror in the entryway. She placed him in front of it and stood behind him, lifting his arm again as high as she could—but as he stood almost a head taller than her, she couldn’t get it too high.

  “You don’t happen to have any of the test results after your injury, do you? Did you have surgery?”

  “No, and no. They said it was something I could work on with therapy but I never did. Didn’t want surgery, anyway.”

  She circled him, studying his shoulders—how even they were, where his arms fell. “And did they say what muscle group it was? I’m guessin
g deltoids.”

  “Yep, you got it. Anterior and lateral, if I recall,” he said, his eyes following her in the mirror.

  “Makes sense. Very common golf injury, I have to say. I’ve seen it on the tour quite a bit, and help when I can.”

  “Well, I appreciate your help, but you really don’t have to work this hard. I honestly was just trying to give you an excuse not to have a root beer float with Skip, remember?”

  She checked the paraffin to make sure it was melting and turned back to Chad. “All the more reason for a treatment, as a thank you,” she said. She truly was grateful for his assistance, and this way, she could thank him and stay away from the copper cottage, in case her brother and Skip came back. She was hoping that they’d decide to play a round of golf instead, but with her at Chad’s, she’d be able to avoid them anyway.

  “Yes, and your gallant assistance is quite appreciated. You really are my knight in shining armor.” She crossed back over to where he stood in front of the mirror and placed her hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and a rush of warmth passed through her. She shook it off—it wasn’t uncommon when she touched an injury of a patient. She was sure that was all it was, but she had a difficult time pulling her eyes from his.

  “Okay, take your shirt off,” she said as she spread a clean sheet on the massage table and fastened the headrest onto the end of it.

  “What?” he said, and she laughed when she turned around to see his surprised expression.

  She crossed her arms over his chest. “This is a professional situation, Chad. No need to be shy. I have to see your muscles to know what needs to be done. Besides, the wax wouldn’t do your shirt any good.”

  She turned back to the table to give him some semblance of privacy. As she turned back around, she hesitated for a moment, her hands behind her on the table. She’d thought he was handsome the first time she saw him—his dark blue eyes held so much expression, and set off by his blond hair she’d enjoyed what they’d told her about him. But it was all she could do to maintain her professionalism as he stood across the room, his muscles taut and lean and his jeans hanging perfectly just below his hips.