The Cowboy's Autumn Fall

by Shanna Hatfield

  “No,” Bailey groaned, not able to bear seeing him again. She had no idea what caused her to behave so outrageously last night, but she was mortified. “I can’t see him.”

  “Why not?” Sierra asked, tugging Bailey’s clenched fist from the sheet and patting her hand. “I got the idea he really likes you.”

  Bailey pried one eye open and squinted at Sierra, who sat wearing a broad grin.

  “I behaved like… like an inebriated trollop!” Bailey said, closing her eye.

  “Yep, you sure did. It was awesome. I’ve never seen you quite like that before. I’m not sure Brice knew what to make of you either,” Sierra said, bouncing on the bed causing Bailey to grab her head with both hands and hold on in hopes it wouldn’t explode. “Did you know you were drunk?”

  “I was what?” Bailey asked with a startled cry, replaying the evening in her head. She did not imbibe in alcoholic beverages. She didn’t have time for such nonsense. All she’d had to drink was fruity punch. Many, many cups of fruity spiked punch.

  “Drunk. According to Mom, you were ‘three sheets to the wind.’ Dad couldn’t stop laughing and Trey and Cady were livid that someone spiked the punch,” Sierra said, toying with one of her long curls, relishing the opportunity to torment her sister. Bailey rarely did anything that would cause a raised eyebrow, always the epitome of a professional career woman. “Apparently you’re the only one who drank too much of it. Way to go!”

  “I’d most certainly appreciate it if you’d stop talking now,” Bailey said, wishing Sierra would leave her alone. It was bad enough to recall what she’d said and done, but Sierra was enjoying her suffering entirely too much.

  Four years younger than Bailey, Sierra was the one who was always doing something silly or off the wall. She took after her fun-loving mother that way. Bailey, on the other hand, was more like their father with an analytical way of thinking and, when it came to her career, a one-track mind.

  Sierra stood and looked down at Bailey with a sense of compassion. “Do you really feel awful?”

  “Remember the time you got sick in Mexico?” Bailey asked, glad Sierra had stopped wiggling the bed. “When you begged Dad to shoot you and end your misery?”

  “Gosh, you don’t feel that bad, do you?” Sierra asked, recalling the days of horrid illness that made her want to die.

  “No. I feel worse,” Bailey whispered.

  “I’m sorry, sis,” Sierra said, sounding genuinely remorseful over Bailey’s state. Especially since she didn’t knowingly get drunk. “I’ve got to go, but I brought you a glass of water and one of orange juice as well as some toast. Dad said the best cure is water and sleep.”

  “Thanks,” Bailey said, fluttering a weak hand Sierra’s direction as she left the room.

  Moving at the pace of a snail, she worked herself into a sitting position and reached for the water, draining the glass before setting it down. She waited to see if the water settled in her stomach before nibbling the toast and drinking the juice.

  Sliding back down in the bed, she noticed the room wasn’t spinning quite so violently and let out a sigh. Thinking back over the previous evening, she remembered Sierra introducing her to the very good-looking cowboy named Brice. He was tall and charming with broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist.

  She couldn’t recall ever having a man be so attentive to her. The evening started fine as they danced and talked. The amount of punch she consumed seemed to be aligned to the loosening effect the alcohol had on both her lips and her inhibitions. At one point, she recalled throwing her arms around Brice and kissing him like he was the last available man in the universe.

  A vision of her head tipped back, his lips on her neck, her leg wrapped around his flew through her mind. Had she really…? “Oh, my,” she groaned.

  Heat flushed her cheeks and she knew, without a doubt, she had to leave the ranch before she chanced running into Brice. Bailey was humiliated to think how she’d behaved, hanging all over him, flirting with him.

  Remembering an enthusiastic declaration of love, she sat bolt upright in bed and held both her head and stomach. The more she remembered the more panicked she became. Had she really called him sexy? She had not, in her entire life, uttered that word to anyone, let alone a man she’d met a few hours earlier.

  Attempting to get out of bed made the room spin again so Bailey eased her way back down against the pillows. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do today to apologize for what she’d done so Bailey finally relaxed and fell back asleep.

  In her dreams, Bailey’s imagination went wild with tempting possibilities regarding Brice while shoving common sense into the far corners of her thoughts. Dreaming of the feel of his lips on hers, she awoke later with a smile. Brice’s tantalizing scent that brought a warm fall afternoon to mind filled her nose and she breathed deeply.

  “Hey, sugar,” a deep male voice whispered close to her face. With a start, Bailey opened both eyes to find two sparkling brown eyes looking back at her.

  Blinking rapidly, she decided she was hallucinating. Her mind must have conjured Brice from her dreams.

  Forcing her eyes to stay open, Bailey took in the fact that Brice appeared to be very real as he sat on the edge of her bed, smiling at her, looking just as deliciously handsome as he had last night.

  “Remember me, Bailey?” Brice asked, gently picking up her hand and holding it in his calloused one. She didn’t know why, but Bailey noticed how clean and well-tended his nails looked, especially for a hard-working cowboy.

  Unable to meet his gaze, she continued staring at his hands and slowly nodded her head.

  He squeezed her hand and released a breath. “Good,” Brice said, as tension flowed away from him and he seemed to relax. “That’s good.”

  Her plans to run away before she was forced to face Brice flew right out the window. Bailey shook her head, trying to find the words to adequately express her deep sense of shame and regret. Not one given to displays of emotion, Bailey was irritated to feel a tear slide down her cheek.

  “What’s wrong?” Brice asked, wiping it away, his fingers gentle on her creamy, smooth skin.

  He could barely sleep last night, thinking about Bailey. Ignoring Tess and Ben’s teasing as he hustled them all to get ready for church, he wanted to be there early to make sure he saved a place beside him for Bailey. Brice was thoroughly disappointed when Sierra sat down, whispering that her sister was quite ill.

  Unable to contain his antsy need to see her, both Tess and his mother scowled at him when he couldn’t keep his foot from jiggling through the pastor’s sermon. As soon as the service was over, he practically ran out the door in his haste to get to the Triple T. Arriving at the house, he knew the door would be open, so he let himself in, walked to her room and stood watching Bailey sleep for a few moments before the temptation to kiss her smiling lips got the best of him.

  Stealing a kiss, Brice stepped back, knowing she was waking up. As soon as Bailey opened her eyes, he could see the regret and despair filling them. He didn’t know why she was so worked up. It wasn’t her fault she’d imbibed in the spiked punch. None of them knew what the Bradshaw boys had done. After Brice, Trey and Travis, along with the boys’ parents lectured them this morning, he hoped they’d think twice about doctoring up drinks again. At twenty-two, they should have long outgrown such childish pranks.

  Brice felt a little piece of his heart break at the lone tear sliding down Bailey’s cheek. “Don’t cry, Bailey. Everything’s just fine.”

  “No, it is not,” she said, slowly scooting back against the headboard until she was sitting up with the sheet clutched under her chin. “My most sincere apologies, Brice, for my reprehensible and completely disgraceful behavior of last night. I deeply regret my inexcusable actions and hope you’ll be able to forgive both my inebriated state and inconceivably deplorable conduct.”

  Brice sat looking at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

  “What she said is she thinks s
he acted like a strumpet, she didn’t mean to, and she’s sorry,” Sierra said as she flounced into the room followed by Mary and Ross Bishop.

  “Sierra, don’t tease your sister so,” Mary said, unable to hide her smile. She reached out a warm hand to Brice, who stood and shook hers. “Brice, nice to see you again. Sierra said you wanted to check to make sure Bailey had survived her encounter with the Bradshaw boys special punch recipe. By the way, this is my husband Ross. I didn’t get a chance to introduce him at church.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Brice said, realizing it probably wasn’t the most socially acceptable thing for him to be in Bailey’s room while she was still in bed, considering they just met last night.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Brice. Sierra and Mary told me all about your coming to Bailey’s rescue,” Ross said with a grin, entertained by his unflappable daughter’s current state of dishevelment. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t figure out sooner that the punch was throwing her for a loop,” Brice said, looking over to see Bailey staring at them all with a narrowed glare. Her hand clasped something small around her neck and she seemed to be rubbing it back and forth with nervous fingers. He wondered if it was the strange little necklace he’d noticed her wearing last night.

  “We appreciate you getting her safely in the house,” Mary said, taking Brice by the arm. “You’ll be joining us for lunch, won’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Brice said, sending Bailey another glance while Mary and Ross escorted him out of the room and back toward the kitchen.

  Sierra waited until they were out of earshot to sit on the bed and flop back next to Bailey.

  “If you don’t get out of that bed, take a shower and act like a normal human, I’m not going to be able to keep from throwing myself at your boyfriend. He’s one smokin’ hot babe,” Sierra said with her usual dramatic flair.

  Bailey glared at her. “In no sense of the term is he my boyfriend.”

  Sierra sat up and gave Bailey a critical once-over. Her sister looked like she’d been dragged backward through a knothole, as Nana liked to say, but a shower and a little makeup would do wonders.

  “Bailey,” Sierra said, in her best no nonsense tone, yanking away the sheet and tugging on her sister’s hands. “You will get up, get clean and get over yourself. Any woman with even an ounce of common sense would be snatching up every second she could spend with that very cute man who, for reasons I can’t understand, seems to be quite taken with you. Now quit pouting and move it.”

  Knowing from past experience Sierra would not leave her alone until she got what she wanted, Bailey put her feet on the floor and stood, clutching the edge of the night stand while she waited for the room to stop spinning.

  Sierra propped herself under her shoulder and helped her stumble into the bathroom. Bailey was chagrined to see she still wore the dress she had on last night. Huffing at the effort, Sierra breathed deeply and grinned.

  “Man alive, is that his scent on your dress? That is to die for, Bailey. I think I could eat him with a spoon,” Sierra said, propping Bailey against the bathroom vanity. Sierra unfastened the hook at the top of Bailey’s dress and slid down the zipper before leaving her sister alone in the bathroom.

  Glancing in the mirror, Bailey was shocked by her appearance. Dark smudges ringed both eyes, her hair looked like it had never seen a comb and her lips had absolutely no color to them at all.

  Turning on the shower, she waited for the water to heat then stepped in and enjoyed the warm spray for a few minutes before washing her hair. She flipped the faucet over to cold and forced herself to stand in the freezing water until she was completely chilled. By then, she was no longer dizzy and was beginning to feel more like herself.

  Blow drying her hair, she applied mascara and some lip gloss, then slipped on a white and turquoise flowered sundress.

  “Eat him with a spoon, indeed,” Bailey muttered to herself as she shoved her feet into a pair of white wedge sandals. Spritzing on a quick spray of perfume, she squared her shoulders and, in a vain move completely unlike herself, pinched her cheeks before opening the bedroom door and walking down the hall.

  The family was eating outside on the patio between the two wings of the house, so Bailey watched them for a moment from the great room before going outside to join them.

  Stepping across the patio, she forced herself not to smile when Brice jumped up from the table where he was sitting and stood waiting for her approach. Her common sense told her to go sit at the table where Nana, her mother and Aunt Denni were visiting with Cass.

  Squelching that thought, she strode toward the table holding the food, barely acknowledging Brice with a curt nod of her head as he walked up behind her.

  “You look like you’re feeling better,” he said quietly as she filled her plate. She was feeling better. Ravenous, in fact. Now that her dizziness had fled, Bailey looked forward to sampling many of the tasty looking choices available for lunch. She turned to see Brice pour her a glass of iced tea, which he continued to carry as they made their way back to where he was sitting by Tess, Travis and Sierra.

  “Hey, Bailey, nice to see you out and about,” Travis said, leaning around Tess. “I’m sorry about the punch last night.”

  “Had you known, I’m sure you would have immediately remedied the problem before it escalated into anything disastrous,” Bailey said, smiling at her cousin. “No need to apologize. Since the only one suffering adverse effects from the experience seems to be me, I would think that is sufficient reason to not give it another thought and consider the matter dismissed.”

  “What she said is that it’s no big deal since she’s the only one who got drunk and to just forget about it,” Sierra said from across the table, ignoring the cool glare from her sister.

  “You would better earn my gratitude by not paraphrasing my communications,” Bailey said, giving Sierra a pointed look.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Sierra went back to talking to Ben, who had joined their gathering and sat down beside her.

  “What do you do for a living, Bailey?” Tess asked as she sat holding Travis’ hand. Brice was interested in the answer to that question as well, because he couldn’t recall Bailey talking about her job last night. He hoped it was something she could do somewhere within an hour or two of Grass Valley because he was determined she was going to fall in love with him before she returned to Denver. “I thought someone mentioned archaeology?”

  “Close,” Bailey said, sitting with a perfect posture as she wiped her mouth on a napkin and returned it to her lap. “I’m a paleontologist.”

  “What’s that?” Ben asked, from across the table, interested in finding out more about the girl who had turned Brice’s head. His brother was never in short supply of girls to date, but Ben had never seen him so taken with a girl, particularly one who seemed to be so serious and scholarly.

  “I study fossils and attempt to use them to reconstruct the history of Earth and the life that once lived on it,” Bailey said, in a matter-of-fact tone as she buttered a roll so soft she could imagine it melting in her mouth.

  “How’s that different than anthropology?” Brice asked, curious about the different types of research work.

  “Here we go,” Sierra said under her breath, leaning back in her chair. “This will take a while.”

  Bailey sent her sister an annoyed stare before taking a bite of her roll and deciding to give a very brief answer to the question.

  “Anthropologists study humans. Archaeologists study human artifacts. Paleontologists study fossils, which are any trace of a past life form,” Bailey explained then offered Sierra a raised eyebrow.

  Sierra grinned and sipped her iced tea.

  “Do you go out on digs?” Brice asked, excited by the news of her occupation since there happened to be a fossil site with active work a couple of hours from Grass Valley.

  “I most certainly do. The work in the field is invigorating and fascinating,” Bailey said, w
ith a light shining in her bright turquoise eyes. “It’s one of the things I enjoy most about my career.”

  “She really digs digging in the dirt,” Sierra said, making everyone chuckle.

  “Did you know there’s a fossil site just a few hours from here?” Tess asked, wondering if Bailey had plans to go to the John Day Fossil Beds while she was visiting.

  “Yes. I have an appointment tomorrow morning to meet with the director of the project to discuss their most recent findings,” Bailey said, although she didn’t change her facial expression, the tone of her voice betrayed her excitement.

  “That’s awesome,” Brice said, thrilled at this tidbit of news. Before he could make any further comment, Bailey asked what Brice and Ben both did. Ben explained his job working for a barge company out of Portland and Brice talked about his work for a construction company in The Dalles. He was happy their current project was just up the road in Moro, building a house and barn for someone moving into the area. It saved him the hour-long commute into The Dalles every day although he did miss carpooling with Tess, who also worked in The Dalles in the hospital’s physical therapy department.

  After lunch, everyone seemed to wander off their own direction and Brice asked Bailey if she’d like to go for a walk. He figured he was safe from too many prying eyes because Sierra was playing with Cass and some of the younger kids, Tess insisted Travis spend some time with his legs elevated so they went inside to watch a movie and Ben headed back to Portland.

  Bailey hesitated only a moment before agreeing to go and they strolled down the hill toward the pond again. Still embarrassed over her previous evening’s behavior, Bailey made sure to keep a respectable distance away from Brice as they walked.

  Even without the white lights twinkling and a blanket of stars overhead, the setting was still quite lovely. Spying a bench beneath a willow tree, Bailey wandered that direction and sat down.

  The fluttering in her stomach, the tingling in her toes and the fuzzy feeling in her head were sensations completely foreign to her. Deciding to blame it on her hangover, she ignored the charge of electricity that shot through her when Brice sat beside her and took her hand in his.