Gallant Golfer (River's End Ranch Book 10)

by Cindy Caldwell

  Focus, girl, she told herself as she cleared her throat and crossed back to him, turning him to face the mirror again.

  She raised and lowered his arm several times again and watched how they moved, watching from the back where she stood and then in the mirror to see what was happening in the front. All business now, she dropped his arm and said, “Okay, on the table, face down.”

  “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” he said, his smile gleaming as he crossed over to the table. Once he was settled, she fluffed a blanket over him, leaving just his upper back exposed.

  She smiled at the groans he made over the next half hour as she felt her way around his deltoid muscles in both shoulders, identifying how they were different, and then settling in to work on the injured area. Her clients didn’t always groan with pleasure, but since her goal today was to alleviate pain and loosen up his tight shoulder muscles, she imagined it must feel pretty good, so she didn’t tease him about the fact that he was obviously enjoying what she was doing.

  She looked around the room as she worked, taking in his tidy space. The kitchen didn’t look a thing like the one at the Copper Cottage—that was a complete chef’s kitchen, unfortunately wasted on its current occupants. Sure, she could whip up an omelet if she had to but she was as interested in cooking as Chad seemed to be.

  The rest of the room was a bit Spartan, a couch, recliner and big screen TV taking up most of the space. But over in one corner, there were several shelves of what looked like awards. She smiled at the thought of him on the tour and keeping the trophies, and when she’d finished with her hand work on his shoulder, she got up to check the paraffin, stopping briefly in front of the trophy shelves. She squinted and leaned closer, curious that the name on the trophies wasn’t Chad Stanton, it was Randy Stanton. She scanned the shelves, and only a single, small trophy on the bottom had Chad’s name on it. Not only that, but there was an entire shelf with military awards—all with the name Randy Stanton.

  Puzzled, she stepped back and cocked her head.

  “Those are my brother’s,” she heard from behind her, and she spun quickly to see Chad up on his elbows, his eyes clouded.

  “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I thought they’d be yours.”

  He turned on his side, his elbow on the table and his head resting on his hand as he looked at the trophies.

  Emma glanced back at them as she headed over to the paraffin. It really was none of her business, but she sure wanted to know why he had all of his brother’s trophies—and military awards—and not his own.

  She had been doing this job long enough to know, though, that people didn’t always want to share things with her. And it was unprofessional to pry. But why would he put away his own trophies and keep the other ones out? He had mentioned that he didn’t care much about winning, but this still seemed odd.

  She lifted the top of the paraffin warmer and picked it up, swirling the warm liquid around as she ran different possibilities through her head.

  As she spread the wax on his shoulder, smiling as he groaned and hoping it was with pleasure, she decided she’d wait to delve deeper into the mystery of the trophies and commendations. She’d be getting another golf lesson tomorrow from this handsome pro, and she could afford to wait for the information she, for some reason, now deeply wanted to know.

  As the wax cooled, she sat on the sofa by his side. His breathing had settled into a steady rhythm and she sat quietly, hoping that he was enjoying the treatment, and that she hadn’t hurt him.

  “Wow,” he said as his head popped up. “I think I fell asleep.”

  She smiled and pulled the blanket further up his back. “Good. It’s supposed to be like that.”

  She pulled the wax off slowly. It came off easily and she rubbed some oil on his shoulder after she’d tossed the wax in the trash.

  “Ahhh,” he said. “I could get used to this.”

  So could I, she thought.

  “What’s the verdict?” he asked as he rolled over, his blue eyes catching hers.

  “It’s loosened up quite nicely,” she said as she patted his hand. “I think with a few more treatments, you’ll see a big improvement.”

  He sat up and reached for her hand. “A few more treatments? I’d like that,” he said and she smiled, packing her things as she looked forward to more.

  CHAPTER 13

  Emma breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the door to the Copper Cottage and peeked her head in—and was met with silence. She’d been at Chad’s for probably two hours, and Brian and Skip would have finished their root beer floats by now. She ran in quickly and rifled through her bag, her fingers closing around the salve she’d promised she’d take to Jaclyn.

  The sun had set and it would be dark soon, and she reached for her scarf and jacket, hoping to sprint over to Jaclyn’s cottage without running into the two of them. Her hopes were dashed, though, as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her just as they pulled up.

  “Where are you off to?” Brian asked as he hopped out of the cart, reaching in the back for his clubs.

  “Yeah. Where are you going? I’d hoped I could take you to dinner,” Skip said as he hefted his golf bag over his shoulder.

  “Oh, I’m not hungry. Still full from lunch,” she said, just as her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble.

  “Uh-huh,” Skip said, his eyes narrowed in her direction.

  “No worries. Dani brought enough stuff that I can throw something together. You going to be gone long?” her brother said with his hand on the door knob.

  “No, not long. Just going to see a new friend. She injured her ankle and I promised I’d bring her my magic salve.” She held up the white jar and smiled, hoping to be off soon.

  “Hey, I haven’t had any of that for a couple days. When’s my next treatment?” Skip said as he shuffled toward the door.

  Her stomach dropped at the thought. “We’re on vacation, remember? I don’t know when I’ll get to do another treatment for you. Maybe not until we get back to Orlando,” she said, hoping it was true. Since she’d met Chad, the thought of laying her hands on Skip at all—even his wrists—seemed even more abhorrent.

  “You didn’t seem to have any trouble giving Chad a treatment,” Skip mumbled as he headed through the door.

  Her eyes met Brian’s. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him occupied. I think there’s one of his most recent matches on replay tonight on TV. That should keep him busy,” he said as he winked at her. “You have fun.”

  Emma thanked him and turned toward where she remembered Jaclyn’s house to be. It was almost dark, but it wasn’t far. She passed through the western town and toward the RV park, lights guiding her way. As she approached Jaclyn’s house and passed through the gate surrounding her yard, rabbits scattered as she climbed the steps.

  She rapped softly, hoping she wasn’t disturbing anyone. She heard Jaclyn laugh, and a male voice, too. Taking a step back, she looked around, wondering if she could disappear before the door opened, chastising herself for showing up unannounced.

  The door swung open before she could escape, and Simon’s smile widened when he saw her.

  “Well, hello, Emma.” He leaned back toward the parlor and said, “Jaclyn, you have a visitor. Emma’s here.”

  She heard Jaclyn’s voice say, “Oh, wonderful. Show her in,” and he pulled the door open, gesturing her into the parlor.

  “How lovely to see you, dear. Simon, here was just leaving.”

  “I was?” Simon asked as he looked from Jaclyn to Emma. “Oh, yes, I was.” He nodded and reached for his coat. He crossed over to Jaclyn, who was lying on the sofa, and patted her hand. “Thank you for the tea, Jaclyn. I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” she said as she smiled at Simon and he closed the door behind him.

  “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” Emma said as she sat in the wing-backed chair opposite the couch, feeling exactly like she had.

&n
bsp; “Oh, no. I see Simon all the time. He was just leaving, anyway,” Jaclyn said as she pointed to the tea tray on the table. “Please, help yourself.”

  Emma rolled her shoulders, realizing she was a little sore herself from her golf lesson and poured herself a cup of tea, closing her eyes and inhaling the cinnamon aroma. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the white jar of salve.

  “I brought this for you. It should help a great deal with your ankle,” she said as she set her mug down and opened the jar. She pulled her chair toward the sofa and took Jaclyn’s foot in her lap, resting it on a pillow.

  Jaclyn leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing as Emma rubbed the salve on her ankle. Emma smiled, pleasure washing over her that she was able to ease people’s pain. It truly made her happy.

  “So,” Jaclyn said after a few moments. “How was your first golf lesson?”

  “How did you—” Emma’s eyebrows rose as she glanced at Jaclyn. She peered into the kitchen, the fairies dancing overhead and looked around the room. She supposed she shouldn’t be all that surprised that Jaclyn did know.

  “It was wonderful,” she said finally. “Chad’s a wonderful teacher.”

  Jaclyn pulled herself up on her elbows and smiled, her eyes dancing. “Yes, I knew he was. I’d heard you were coming, and that he’d be an especially good teacher for you.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the pillow behind her.

  Emma shook her head and laughed as a rabbit hopped onto Jaclyn’s lap, making itself at home and nestling into her skirts, laying its head down and falling straight to sleep. She’d never seen such a thing in her life, but she shook her head. Behind this gate, nothing would surprise her.

  As she quietly worked on Jaclyn’s ankle, her thoughts turned to Chad. He was so different than Skip, certainly, or any other man she’d met on tour. There were some who were quite charming, in a metropolitan kind of way. But they were all about winning, about the competition. Eyes on the prize. Chad had been so gentle and patient, explaining patiently his love of the game—not his love of winning. And all of those trophies that belonged to his brother with just one small one of his own intrigued her. There was more to this man than anyone she’d ever met, and she hoped that tomorrow when they met for a lesson, she’d get to know more about him.

  Jaclyn’s breathing turned rhythmic, and Emma gently placed her foot back on the sofa, careful not to disturb either Jaclyn or the rabbit. She put the lid on the salve and placed it back in her pocket, and she was almost to the door before she heard Jaclyn speak, her eyes still closed.

  “Sometimes you have to go after what you want in life.”

  She paused, her hand on the door knob. “Excuse me?” she said softly.

  “I said, sometimes you have to go after what you want. You can’t wait for it to come to you.”

  “Oh,” she said, not exactly sure what Jaclyn meant. She’d known for a while that she didn’t want to finish her internship with Skip, but she didn’t know any way to change that. She had no other option.

  “There are always other options,” Jaclyn said before she turned away and her breathing steadied again.

  Emma paused at the front gate, stepping carefully through so as not to let out any of the rabbits. As she walked slowly back to the cottage, she played different scenarios in her mind. Leave Skip? Where would she go? Who would she intern for? It needed to be an organization, not an individual, and she didn’t know of any.

  She looked up at the stars—shiny sparks in the black sky. It was so dark here that it looked as if the sky held more white than dark. She breathed in the cold air and looked back to Jaclyn’s cottage, the windows glowing warmly.

  Well, she didn’t have an answer today. But Jaclyn had told her to learn to play golf, and she was going to follow through. She just had to be certain that the rest would take care of itself—somehow.

  CHAPTER 14

  T he first thing that had crossed Chad’s mind when he woke up was Emma—and it had been that way for the past several days, actually. He’d given her golf lessons every day since she’d been at the ranch and after the first set of mishaps, she’d actually gotten pretty good.

  He chuckled at the joy on her face as she’d parked the golf car on a slope and gotten out, smiling as she guessed the right club for the stroke. And he’d chuckled even harder at the horror that replaced that joy as the cart slowly rolled down the hill, eventually ending up on its side in the water hazard. He hadn’t let her drive since—and now, with him behind the wheel and her happily in the passenger seat, he thought it was time for her to practice a real swing.

  He tried not to gawk as she stepped out from the golf cart and pulled on her gloves. She still wore the same tight jeans, her red cowboy boots in the back of the cart as she slipped on her golf shoes. Today she had on a polo shirt with the River’s End Ranch logo on it.

  “Nice shirt,” he said as he pulled his driver from his bag in the back of the cart.

  She looked down at her chest and smiled. “Thanks. I got it at the store in the old west town. I like it,” she said as she took a practice swing.

  He held his hands up, shooing her away from the cart. Even though she was getting better by the day, she still had some wild swings. The last thing he needed was for her to hit him on the head the day before the exhibition. Wade had mentioned they were expecting a pretty big crowd, and that everything was set. He seemed pretty excited about it, and Chad didn’t want to disappoint him.

  “So, this is the longest hole of the course, so we’re going to go for a long drive,” he said as he pulled on his gloves and placed a tee for her, settling the ball on top.

  She shielded her eyes from the sun. “I can’t even see the flag,” she said as she turned back toward Chad.

  “Well, it’s a par three. You’re going to try to hit toward that marker right there,” he said, pointing toward the horizon. “Then when you get there, you’ll turn to the left. You’ll see the flag then.”

  “Oh, okay,” she said, flashing him a smile. “I can try, anyway. Brian would be so excited if I can pull this off. He’s been wanting me to play for years.”

  Chad nodded as he leaned against the cart, eying the trees to the right. She had a great grip and a pretty good swing—more power in those arms than he’d imagined. But she was still a little wild, and he hoped she made it down to the marker. He wasn’t going to tell her that, though. One thing he’d learned from teaching golf—people had to become aware of their mistakes on their own.

  As he watched her take a practice swing a few feet behind the ball, he reminded her, “Stay straight. Like your body is in a barrel. Wrists loose, power is in the swing.”

  “I know, I know,” she said as she took one more practice shot, and he shook his head as she bent both elbows.

  “No, elbows straight until your club comes over your shoulder,” he reminded her, and he knew she just needed to get the feel of it. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and gripping the club, his hands over hers.

  “Feel this?” he said as he guided her swing, slow and easy.

  “Um, yes, I do,” she said slowly, her voice shaky.

  He stood and backed away, the heat from her body letting him know that yes, he felt it too. Not just the swing.

  Before he could step away, she turned, her green eyes trained on him. He looked away, tugging at his collar as she turned back to the ball.

  She took a couple of practice swings and stepped forward. She pulled back, ready to knock the ball from the tee, and as she swung forward, her club left her hands, flying through the air end over end and landing in a grove of trees next to the tee.

  “Oh, my,” she cried as she looked at Chad. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  They both laughed as she headed off toward the trees to fetch her club.

  “I’ll go,” he said as he started toward the grove.

  “Good grief, no. I’ve got it. It was my fault.”

  No, it was mine, he thought as he remembe
red wanting to kiss her, and feeling from her that she wanted it, too.

  He turned toward the green, searching for her ball. No telling where it had gone if her club had landed in the trees. He gasped when he heard her screech, and she tore out of the trees as fast as she’d gone in, her face white as a sheet.

  “What is it?” he said as he ran toward her. “You all right?”

  She raced all the way to the cart and stopped, her hands resting on her knees as she threw her club to the ground. “I think there’s a bear in there or something. Or Bigfoot. Something,” she said between gasps for air.

  “What? Why?”

  “There are tracks from a big animal, bigger than both of my hands put together,” she said, her eyes wide as she caught her breath and stood. “We’d better get out of here.”

  Chad looked from Emma to the stand of trees, remembering what Kelsi had said at the diner. He burst out laughing, and by the time he’d stopped, she stood staring at him, her arms folded over her chest. She felt a shiver run down her spine, glad she was back out of the glade.

  “You’re laughing at me,” she said. “Kelsi said herself that there had been Bigfoot sightings right here, by this hole.”

  He caught his breath and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping it over his forehead. “Yes, I know. But you haven’t been here long enough to know that it was probably planted there.”

  “Planted?” she said, reaching for her club, her arms still shaking.

  He walked over to her, pulling her toward him. She still looked gorgeous, even when she was scared half to death. “Yes, planted. Her brothers, Will and Wes, have a great time messing with her obsession with Bigfoot.”

  “Does that mean it doesn’t exist? It’s just a joke?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t say that. Just that they like to tease her, and that’s likely what you saw.”