The Cowboy's Autumn Fall

by Shanna Hatfield

  “That was quite a celebration, wasn’t it?” Brice asked, swinging his feet as he sat as close to Bailey as she’d allow, which seemed like a mile away.

  “It was wonderful,” Bailey said, gazing out into the night. “Tess was so beautiful and Travis looked quite handsome, but then again those cousins of mine always do. Ben looked exceptionally handsome as well. Too bad you two don’t look more alike.”

  Brice’s head whipped around to look at Bailey in surprise. Everyone said he and Ben looked enough alike they could be twins, so he wondered what, exactly, she was implying. Then he noticed the way her lips were twitching at the corners.

  “If I didn’t know better, Miss Bailey Bishop, I’d say you were teasing me,” Brice said, grabbing her hand and pulling her a little closer.

  “Perhaps,” Bailey said, holding the gaze of longing that was passing between them. Brice’s hand on her waist was hot enough to sear through the fabric of her gown and she felt her toes begin to tingle at his touch. His minty breath caressed her face and she felt her mouth go dry. “May I please have one of your breath strips?”

  “Sure,” Brice said, digging the packet out of his pocket and handing it to her. She took one and returned the rest to him, staring at the darkness. The air was quickly cooling and unless they did something different soon, she was going to be chilled and ready to go home.

  Thinking about Brice so close and smelling so tempting combined with the cool night air made her shiver. Brice tightened his arm around her and looked at her concerned.

  “Are you cold, sugar?”

  “A little,” she said, realizing it was probably past time to tell Brice good night anyway.

  “Don’t move,” he said, getting to his feet and disappearing down the stairs of the barn loft. He wasn’t gone long when she heard the clomp of his boots running back up the steps.

  Dropping back beside her, Brice draped a soft, fleece blanket around her shoulders and pulled her closer against his chest.

  “Better?” he asked quietly, his chin resting on her head as his arms wrapped securely around her.

  “Perfect,” Bailey whispered. She had never, in fact, felt so wrapped up in warmth, love and security before. Held close to Brice was one of the best things she had ever experienced.

  Cautiously sliding her arms around his chest, she nestled closer against him, breathing in his scent, soaking up his presence and strength.

  They sat without saying anything for a while, enjoying the quiet of the evening as well as the opportunity to be together.

  When a huge harvest moon shone down on them, Bailey turned her inquisitive gaze to it and smiled.

  “It’s so lovely, Brice,” Bailey said, trying to remember if she’d ever taken the time to sit and study a harvest moon. Unable to recall doing so, she realized if she had, it was not one so bright and glowing. Not one where she felt so loved and wanted.

  “Lovely,” Brice echoed, his gaze not on the moon, but the luminescent beams highlighting the curve of Bailey’s cheek. Her skin looked radiant in the moonlight, her scent tormented him and the feel of her body next to his was an intoxicating invitation he was finding hard to refuse.

  “Don’t you think…” Bailey started to say, but when she turned to look at Brice, her words were forgotten. Everything fell away except for the electricity zinging between the two of them, the intense attraction that pulsed with a fervored beat.

  “Yeah, sugar, I do,” Brice said, tracing his thumb across her smooth cheek, getting lost in her eyes. In the moonlight, they glowed and burned, igniting an answering blaze in his own. Not caring about anything but being as close to Bailey as possible, Brice scooped her into his arms and swung his legs around so he could scoot over and lean against the inside barn wall. He didn’t want them to fall out of the loft if they got too carried away with the kisses he planned to lavish on her in the next few minutes.

  Making good on his intentions, Brice kissed her ripe lips, savoring the sweetness he found there. Leaning back, he bent his knees, tipping her into his chest.

  Fumbling to free her hands from the blanket clutched around her shoulders, Bailey wrapped her arms around Brice’s neck, toying with the hair above his shirt collar.

  Several moments, several kisses later, they were both struggling to hang on to their common sense, fighting to catch their breath.

  “Brice,” Bailey said, her head resting on his shoulder while his hands branded her where he pushed up the sleeves of her dress so he could touch her silky skin.

  “Hmm?” Brice asked, looking dazed and distracted.

  “Brice, I think you better take me home now,” Bailey whispered. While her words suggested they stop what they were doing, she made no effort to move. She was way too content in Brice’s arms.

  “I probably should,” Brice said, bending down to kiss her again, lost in the feel of their lips, their bodies, their hearts connecting.

  “I meant now,” Bailey said, a small smile teasing up the corners of her mouth.

  “Right now?” Brice asked, lifting his head as her words finally penetrated the Bailey-induced fog in his mind.

  “I think so,” Bailey said, pushing at Brice’s chest as she struggled to her feet, which was no small task since she was tangled in a blanket, the full skirt of her dress wrapped around her legs, and wearing high heels. Brice smirked as he watched her tug the dress in place and attempt to smooth her hair.

  “You’re a regular party pooper. You know that?” Brice said, grabbing her hand and leading the way down the loft stairs and out to his pickup.

  “You aren’t the first to make that declaration and I’m sure you won’t be the last,” Bailey said, sounding miffed.

  “Aw, sugar, now don’t be mad at me. I’m only teasing,” Brice said, trapping Bailey as he pressed her back against the pickup, his arms on either side of her holding the bed of the truck. He dropped a series of scorching kissing along her neck before she grabbed his shoulders and squeezed.

  “Please, Brice,” she said, beginning to sound frightened. “Please stop.”

  Brice let out his breath, dropped his arms and took a step back. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. You’re just so dang pretty and smell so nice and feel so good in my arms.”

  “Brice,” Bailey said, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid if you don’t stop, I won’t be able to either. That’s why I think you better get me home while I’m still willing to go.”

  “Oh, sugar, I really wish you hadn’t told me that,” Brice said, grappling with what he wanted to do versus what he knew he needed to do. Holding her close, he took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down.

  Kissing Bailey’s temple, he opened the pickup door and helped her inside then drove her home. The only noise in the pickup cab was the radio. It was playing one too many songs about love, so Brice finally changed it over to a station that played jazz music. Acoustical songs were safe.

  Pulling up at the Triple T’s mud room door, Brice noted lights on in the kitchen, so he held Bailey’s hand and walked her to the door, pecking her cheek as he said good night.

  When she stood staring at him instead of going inside, he winked and told her to have sweet dreams before driving home to a restless night of little sleep.

  The next morning, she checked her messages to find Brice had sent her a song. As she listened to Hunter Hayes sing Wanted, Bailey knew she was in way too deep with Brice. That was exactly how he made her feel – wanted, cherished, beloved.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Into each life some rain must fall.”

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  “You’re certain we have enough time to get there and back today? It seems like a very long drive to only spend a few minutes there and turn right around,” Bailey said as Brice held the door of her Jeep while she climbed in.

  “Are you saying you want to take me on a long
weekend getaway and keep me overnight?” Brice asked with a teasing glint in his eye, although Bailey couldn’t see it in the pre-dawn light. It was barely five in the morning and they were embarking on a seven hour drive to the see some fossilized rock in the southeast corner of Oregon. “Why, Miss Bishop, what kind of guy do you take me for? Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me all for yourself? I didn’t even think to pack a bag.”

  “Oh, hush, you insolent man,” Bailey said, enjoying Brice’s teasing. When Brice suggested they make this trip, she was excited at the prospect. She heard about the Pillars of Rome from any number of colleagues and wanted to see them for herself. Spending the entire day with Brice was an added bonus.

  During the last week since Tess and Travis’ wedding, Bailey had not allowed herself to dwell on the what-ifs of her relationship with Brice and was instead trying to enjoy the time she spent with him.

  It had been wonderful.

  Although they both were busy with work during the week, Brice managed to come to the Triple T for dinner twice and they went to the high school football game the night before. For someone who had never attended any sporting event prior to moving to Grass Valley, Bailey found she immensely enjoyed cheering on the local boys and watching them play ball. She researched the game and no longer pelted Brice with questions. He seemed impressed last night when she understood the calls the refs made.

  After the game, Brice brought her straight home, knowing they would both be dragging this morning if they didn’t get some sleep.

  As they made their way down the long Triple T drive, Bailey sat behind the wheel of her Jeep, insisted they take it instead of Brice’s pickup, since he usually drove. Arriving in John Day several hours later, Brice talked Bailey into stopping for a break before getting back on the road. Their journey took them through Burns before veering toward the far reaches of the southeastern corner of the state.

  Pulling up at the small café in Rome at noon, they enjoyed a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches before driving a few miles further to see the fossilized rock formation.

  Turning onto a dirt road, it was easy to spot the behemoth mass, rising in an odd white color from the high desert country.

  Getting out of the Jeep, Brice and Bailey stood looking at the formations, stark against the leaden gray sky.

  Keeping an eye on the weather, Brice grabbed Bailey’s hand and they walked as close to the formations as they could. Bailey took out her camera and snapped several photos.

  “So, sugar, why don’t you tell me all about the famous Pillars of Rome,” Brice said, watching her take photos from a variety of angles.

  “Made primarily of volcanic tuff, the pillars were created between twelve to fifteen million years ago when volcanoes erupted and river waters created the impressive bluffs from volcanic detritus. The formations tower a hundred feet over the desert floor and measure about five miles long and two miles wide. The chalk and clay in their composition not only creates the distinguishable white coloration, but also makes them very brittle,” Bailey said, putting her camera back in the Jeep. When she returned to where Brice stood, she leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “So they’re big and tall and made of volcanic rock,” Brice said, somewhat concerned by the way the sky was getting darker and filling with ominous looking clouds. “What else makes them unique?”

  “Pioneers traveling through the area likened the pillars to the Roman ruins, and that’s how the community received the name of Rome,” Bailey said, giving Brice a sideways glance. “How’s that for a history lesson?”

  “Very good, professor Bishop.”

  “I would bet my doctorate degree there are some amazing fossils just waiting to be discovered in there. Too bad it isn’t accessible,” Bailey said, looking wistfully toward the large formations that sat on private property.

  “I’m not going to argue with you there, sugar, but if you’re done admiring these hulking rocks, we better get a move on. I’d be willing to bet my hat and boots that we’ll see some rain on the windshield before we get too far down the road,” Brice said, pointing to the south where they could see a storm rolling in. The temperature was already dropping although it was early afternoon.

  “I suppose we better go, then,” Bailey said, giving the pillars one last look before she ran to the Jeep and got behind the wheel.

  “You want me to drive?” Brice asked as she started down the road back toward the highway.

  “Of course not,” Bailey snapped, annoyed Brice would even ask. She wasn’t some sissy girl driver who couldn’t handle bad roads. She grew up in Denver, after all, and the fact she drove a manual transmission should say a little about her ability to handle a vehicle.

  Brice threw his hands in the air and shrugged. “Just thought I’d offer.”

  “Thank you, but I respectfully decline,” Bailey said, focusing her attention on the road as rain drops began to fall.

  Sixty miles later when the rain was pouring down in torrential sheets and she could barely see the center line on the highway, she began to rethink her hasty refusal. Her hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel and if her neck got any more tense, she was certain it would be permanently cramped in a position by her ears.

  “You doing okay?” Brice asked, rubbing a gentle hand on her leg, which only served to distract her from driving.

  “I would be if you keep your hands to yourself,” she said tersely, not taking her eyes off the road.

  Brice jerked his hand away with narrowed eyes. Driving in bad weather must make Bailey grumpy. According to Sierra, anything out of her daily routine made her grumpy. Brice laughed to himself, thinking how much his presence in her life was far outside of her normal routine. No wonder she was quite often disgruntled or snippy. Determining it wasn’t something she did to be mean; rather, it seemed like her way of coping with the new and unknown.

  Glancing at her, Brice noticed Bailey was staring at the specks of white now mixing with the rain.

  “That can’t be…” she said, pointing to a snowflake sticking to the windshield.

  “But it is,” Brice said, looking up at the sky and shaking his head. “Snow. In the middle of October. Just great.”

  Wanting to force Bailey to pull over so he could drive, Brice was sitting on his hands and biting his tongue to keep from saying or doing anything. She was a good driver, but it bothered him to see her so tense and obviously upset trying to maneuver safely down the road in the bad weather. He had a strong feeling it would get a lot worse before it got better.

  If it was cold enough to snow, he worried about the moisture on the roads turning to ice.

  “Do you have chains?” Brice asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  “Chains? Tire chains?” Bailey asked, trying to remember if she’d taken them out of her Jeep when she unpacked it or left them in. “I do. I’m just uncertain as to their exact location at the moment.”

  “That’s really helpful and quite informative,” Brice said, knowing he should have brought his pickup. He had tire chains, a shovel, probably enough lost candy bars and stray bottles of water behind and underneath the seat to last them for a couple days if they somehow ended up stranded.

  “No need to spew sarcasm,” Bailey said, sending him a glare. When the Jeep slid on a slick spot in the road, Bailey pulled over and they dug around, finally finding her chains. Brice attempted to make her sit in the Jeep while he put the chains on, but she insisted on helping. Clearing the frozen slush from the windshield wipers, they climbed back inside, half-frozen. What was now falling from the sky appeared to be slushy ice. It froze to the windshield wipers and the road upon contact.

  An hour later, they were crawling along, trying to see through the ice-streaked windshield and hoping to make it back to Burns alive. Bailey was mad, annoyed and exhausted. She finally pulled over in someone’s driveway and slid to a stop.

  “You want to drive for a while?” Bailey asked, looking at Brice with a raised brow that d
ared him to make any smart-aleck comment.

  “Sure,” Brice said, noting her frown and the stubborn set of her chin. He got out and cleaned the windshield wipers again on his way around the Jeep, climbing into the driver’s seat while Bailey slid across to the passenger side. She soaked in the warmth of where Brice had been sitting and took several deep breaths, inhaling deeply of his scent. That, more than anything else, gave her a sense of calm.

  “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Brice said as he cautiously pulled out on the road. After another hour, they made it to Burns. A drive that should have taken less than two hours had taken more than four.

  “I’m going to find us a place to spend the night. There is no way we’re driving the rest of the way home in this,” Brice said, maneuvering the Jeep into town.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Bailey said, looking at Brice disapprovingly. It was hard enough for them to keep their hands off each other when they knew people were waiting at home for them. How would they manage when they had an entire night to themselves?

  “You’ve got a better one? You’re exhausted, I’m tired, and the roads are going to get worse instead of better. It would be stupid to even think we could make the rest of the trip home in this. We’re staying here,” Brice said, pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. He hurried inside only to discover they were full due to the storm. Rather than drive around town trying to find a room, Brice smiled charmingly at the young desk clerk and asked if she could call around to find him a room. She placed several calls and finally located a room at a hotel down the street. Brice asked her to have them hold the room for him and thanked the desk clerk for her assistance.

  Hurrying back outside, Brice climbed into the Jeep and drove to the hotel. Fortunately, a restaurant sat in the parking lot so they could get a hot meal and some rest before heading out in the morning.

  “Let’s go see about a room,” Brice said, opening Bailey’s door and walking her inside. The warmth that hit them at the door felt wonderful. Bailey fought the urge to let her teeth chatter as she stood waiting for the desk clerk to assist them. When they put on the tire chains, she was soaked to the skin and her clothes still felt cold and damp.