“What’s going to happen with the wild horses?”
Oh, great. All he needed was another bleeding heart on Luce’s side. “I have to run a ranch. They can’t stay here.”
“You aren’t going to shoot them!”
“Jeez, Ryder, you know me better than that. Do I seem like someone who’d shoot them?”
“Okay, no. Sorry. But we already have horses. Can’t we keep those other ones, too? The wild horses?”
He checked the water in one of the stalls. “The size of that herd has doubled since they decided to take up residence. A few of them isn’t a problem, but a lot of them really is. Where would you suggest we keep them? We need the grazing land for the cattle. Our horses are useful. The wild ones aren’t, and they impact the ecological balance. And let’s not even talk about our missing mares. I’ve lost stock and I’ve spent time and money repairing fences. They’re an expensive nuisance—especially that damned stallion.”
Ryder frowned. “Guess I hadn’t looked at it that way.”
“I have.” Luce was standing in the stable doorway of the stable, her arms crossed. He couldn’t help noticing that the light caught her hair.
He handed over the last apple, patted the neck of the horse munching away and turned to face her. “But your whole purpose is to study them—and protect them, right? Not to interfere with the herd.”
“At the beginning. Now I see the whole situation with...more complexity.” Her voice was soft and her eyes looked like shimmering gold.
Had he really just thought “shimmering gold”? He was an idiot.
He weighed every response he could make that might reverse the idiot progression, but he couldn’t find one.
Fortunately, Ryder spoke up. “This place kind of grows on you. I didn’t want to come here at all when Grace told me where we were going, but now I like it.” Way to go. Good sell.
The only question was how she’d respond. “I like it, too.”
Nothing definitive there, but he’d take it. Drake muttered, “Then stick around.”
Why’d he say that? He had no idea. When she’d arrived, he’d wanted nothing more than for her to leave pronto.
She quickly caught on. “Is that an open invitation?”
Ryder started to get the gist of their conversation. He hurried toward the stable door. “Uh, I’ve got some homework to do.”
They both watched him scoot outside.
“He just ditched us for homework. That’s a powerful rejection of our company right there.” Drake put the bucket away and washed his hands in the big metal utility sink.
“He’s a nice young man.”
“Thanks to Grace. And Slate, too. I sometimes forget he isn’t actually their kid. Ryder might’ve gotten into real trouble if both of them hadn’t stepped in. When Showbiz first asked me if the kid could work here, I was skeptical. However, I will say, if you work with Red, you work. He doesn’t tolerate anything but the best you can give. Ryder stepped up.”
“Good for him. And good for you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Drake, yes, you did. Grace told me you helped out so much with Ryder she can’t thank you enough.”
Sure, he had empathy for kids trying to find their way. Who didn’t? “It isn’t easy being a teenage boy,” he said. “Your body changes, more and more people expect you to take care of yourself, to act responsible. You start to look at girls in a whole new light. I believe I was looking at you like that when he walked in on us.” He needed to clarify something. “Feel free to weigh in, but I don’t think our agreement to stay detached is working out.”
“Not so much,” Luce agreed. Then she added in an offhand tone, “Oh, I’m camping up on the ridge tomorrow night.”
Like hell.
He stared at her. “Didn’t we recently have this conversation? No, you aren’t.”
“I’m not doing this project on a sort-of basis. I have to observe the horses at night.”
“You do know you’re trying my patience.”
“No, I’m objecting to your assumption that you have the right to tell me what to do. Not the same thing.”
“Luce.”
“I have it on excellent authority that I’m not the mainstay of a mountain lion’s diet. Wait, that would be yours. The authority, I mean.”
“I’ll join you.”
“On the ridge? Oh, that’s a good idea.”
“You aren’t staying up there alone.” He paused, then said recklessly, “We can share a tent, tell campfire stories, roast marshmallows, stuff like that.”
At least he’d made her smile. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s precisely what we’d be doing.”
“Remember, the weather’s supposed to get nasty. We might have to stay in the tent.”
She tilted her head, all that fabulous hair brushing her shoulders. “That’s what you’re going for, isn’t it, cowboy? Same tent?”
“Same sleeping bag, something like that.”
“I’m not going to be able to stop you, am I?”
She had that right. He offered her another option. “You could abandon the whole idea and sleep alone in a nice, safe, dry house. Or you can share a tent with me.”
“I’ve camped alone before, and a little rain won’t hurt me, and—”
Drake cut her off. “I think we have a date. Now, let me walk you back to the house, and then I need to close the front gate. After that, I’m going straight to bed. It’s been a long day.”
* * *
LUCE SET ASIDE her almost-empty cup of hot chocolate, hoping that the splash of peppermint liqueur Harry had dashed in with a sly wink would help her sleep. Her secret recipe, the older woman had confided, guaranteed to cure whatever ailed you.
Somehow, Luce thought a cup of heavenly chocolate might not do the trick for her particular affliction.
What she needed was good old-fashioned therapy in the form of girl talk.
There was only one thing to do—call Beth Madison, her older sister and best friend.
After only one ring, she got an answer. “Mi chica! What, you psychic? I was just thinking about you. How’s life out there in the Wild West? Please tell me they have indoor plumbing.”
Considering that she was sitting at a polished mahogany desk in a guest room that could vie with a suite in the most elegant hotel... She glanced around at the silk bedspread and pillows, reading lamp and chair, wall-mounted television with about a million channels, plus a private bathroom. “Yes,” she said drily. “They do, believe it or not.”
“That’s good news. I’m relieved. Men can pee in the woods and all, but for us it’s a dicier proposition.”
Luce was already laughing, which wasn’t unusual after about two seconds on the phone with her older sister. “I often spend all day outside. You get used to the lack of facilities. What are you doing? It’s not too late to call, is it?”
“I’m doing yoga. I need some form of relaxation after the diaper I just changed. Who knew a six-month-old could wipe out a whole outfit and his crib sheet in one fell swoop? Or do I mean poop? I won’t go into the dreadful details, but a bath was involved. Is it too early for potty training?”
“Six months is probably pushing it, but I’m not an expert. My impression is that they have to be able to walk and maybe even talk.” Luce laughed again, knowing that Beth adored her son, born after years of trying. “Have you decided whether you’re going back to work?”
“Greg and I talked it over, and after several different versions of what added up to basically the same conversation, I’m going to work part-time from home. I’m on the computer all day, anyway. Who cares if I’m sitting in my sweatpants—I still need to lose about ten pounds—at home, or in an office. I think it’ll work for all of us if I cut back a little, since it means I can s
tay home with Ian.”
“Makes sense to me. Day care is good, but Mom is better, right?”
“That’s our take on it. Baby sister, why’d you call? There’s a reason. I can hear it in your voice.”
Beth knew her. Luce fiddled with the handle on her cup for a second and then sighed. “I need some advice. You love Greg.”
“I must. I live with him, endure his sometimes annoying habits, and we just had a baby together. And let’s not forget I married him. You stood beside me at the wedding, remember? Oh, no way! Who’d you meet out there in the wilderness?”
That was her sister. Quirky at times, but always smart as a whip.
“Picture a tall, blond cowboy. Pure Wyoming, from his Stetson down to his dusty boots. He keeps his conversation sparse but really knows how to kiss.”
“Woo-hoo! You found your cowboy.”
“My cowboy?”
“Those sound like your requirements. Tall, good-looking and knows how to kiss. You were about fifteen when you spelled that out.”
“I’d read a few too many Western romance novels.”
“That you pilfered from Mom. I did the same thing. I still read them, by the way. For that matter, so does she. Tell me more about him.”
“He doesn’t discuss his feelings. He’s close to his family, cares about animals and works long hours, but that’s not enough of a description. I think, with him, any kind of relationship is an all-or-nothing deal.”
“Oh, decision time, is it?”
It felt that way... “Beth, you’re jumping to conclusions. I have the job of my dreams lined up in California. Plus, you and Mom and Dad are there.”
“You can come and visit us.”
“It isn’t that simple. I don’t even know what I’d do if I stayed here, and worrying about that is presumptuous, anyway. There’s no guarantee he’d even want me to stay. He told me he isn’t interested in casual relationships. I believe that, because if you look like him and are like him, you’d certainly have plenty of opportunities...”
“Did you listen at all to what you just said?”
She had. Part of the reason she’d called was to work it out in her own mind. Beth was always a good sounding board. “I’m in trouble, right? I’ve known the man for less than a month.”
“I want to meet this slow-talking, fast-moving dreamboat. Invite him to California.”
Only Beth would use the word dreamboat. “We aren’t serious. We hardly have a relationship! I’m not sure if he’d go, anyway.”
“Aren’t you? Sounds to me like he would.”
Luce tapped her fingers on the desk. “How do you know?”
“Good question. I wish I had a better answer, but I guess it’s a sense I’m getting. An intuition, if you prefer. Despite what you say, you’re responding to this guy and he’s responding to you. So...invite him.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“You hate it when I give you advice.”
“I listen, but I don’t always follow your advice. I just needed to talk to someone about Drake.”
Oops. She hadn’t intended to mention his name.
Beth pounced. “As in Drake Carson? That’s who we’re having this deep sisterly discussion about? Does Mom know? She’d be thrilled.”
“Don’t tell her.”
“All right.” Beth meant it, but her answer was accompanied by a disappointed sigh. She was a person who could keep her mouth shut if she had to. She had flaws—who didn’t?—but that wasn’t one of them. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t say a word, but I’m positive she’d be thrilled.”
“Thrilled about what? I can’t promise anything. He might know how he feels, but I’m...uncertain about myself. Am I in love with him? I’m starting to think so. But all the changes to my life plans have to weigh in, too, right? I’ve been told more than once that he’s worth it.”
Beth sighed. “You’ve worked this all out. I’m so glad, because I need to get to sleep soon. My son still wakes up about six times a night. I hate people who tell me their newborns slept through the night on the second day they took them home. Congratulations on figuring everything out and making me do nothing. I knew I adored you.”
When they ended the call, Luce stared at her phone and laughed softly. Okay, perhaps she had figured it out—to a certain extent. Did she want Drake? She did. He represented an ideal she’d held close her whole life.
However... Kind, compassionate and all those other qualities were important, but there was also the fact that he couldn’t and wouldn’t change his life. She’d have to do everything on that end. What was more, he was going to relocate those horses. She saw his point, but damn, she hated it. If it was up to her, the entire Carson ranch would be wild-horse heaven.
Her dissertation was getting more and more difficult to write. She powered up her computer and went back to work, anyway. Tomorrow was another day, as Scarlett O’Hara had declared, and she’d analyze it then.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHAT DRAKE WAS doing felt like taking out a billboard ad on Times Square, but he didn’t have much choice, did he?
He needed shaving cream and toothpaste, but that wasn’t the main reason he’d made this trip to town. He eyed the display on the drugstore shelf and reminded himself that he wasn’t sixteen, so he shouldn’t be embarrassed. But this was Mustang Creek, and all the Romeo jokes were about to get worse. If he’d had the time, he would’ve driven out of Bliss County and shopped someplace else, where everyone didn’t know him. But he didn’t have the time; he was already going to use part of his morning to ride up with Luce, help her find a decent campsite. He had one in mind, since he and his brothers used to camp out in that area as kids.
He picked up a box of condoms and resigned himself to the fact that the cashier had greeted him by name when he entered the drugstore. He tried to look impassive as he walked to the counter to check out. Maxine was a sweet lady, but she played bridge with his mother in some women’s church club, and there was something about buying condoms from a grandmother of six that made him feel like an adolescent.
With luck he’d need them. Maybe he should look at it that way. Maybe Maxine would just scan it and not notice.
She noticed, of course, with raised eyebrows. At least she didn’t address it. Well, not directly, anyway. “How’s Grace doing?”
He swiped his credit card. “Good. As far as I know. Slate jokes about her being touchy right now, but she’s fine. I think she looks beautiful. He does, too.”
Maxine handed him the bag. “You are a very diplomatic young man.”
“I’m a cautious man,” he said and then winced at the unintended reference to his purchase. “Grace really is beautiful. I’m not just saying that.”
“I’ve seen her.” Maxine was now laughing at him as he tried to scramble around what he’d said. “That she is. Tell your mother and Harry I said hello.”
“Sure will.” He hotfooted it out of there. With Maxine’s tendency to share information, it was a lost hope that everyone would think all he wanted was a clean shave. They’d almost certainly guess he wanted something else—and they’d know what that something else was.
Worrying about it gained him nothing, though, and he preferred not to waste his energy, so he drove home. He hadn’t caught the weather report that morning, but he usually didn’t bother with it anymore. Red was invariably correct. And this morning, as he’d predicted, there was a hint of rain in the air—a higher proportion of humidity, which signaled a change from sunshine and blue skies. Unlike Red, Drake wasn’t a human barometer, but he’d lived outdoors pretty much his whole life. He could feel a front coming in.
Maybe he could talk Luce out of plans to camp up on the ridge.
Maybe he couldn’t.
He already knew he’d lose the argument.
Maybe he didn’t want to talk her out of it.
* * *
THE MORNING WAS GORGEOUS, but there’d been a reddish glow on the horizon at daybreak, and Red had warned her as he saddled Starburst that the weather might turn ugly at any time. He eyed her backpack and shook his head.
She assured him she’d be fine.
Drake had suggested they ride up together so he’d know where her campsite was, if she was hell-bent on doing this—his term, not hers. She was more than capable of pitching a tent on her own, but what he’d said made sense; if he really was going to join her later, he should know where to find her.
As she thought about spending the night with him, her stomach did an unfamiliar flip-flop.
“Wait for Drake,” Red advised, slapping the side of the horse. “This fella does whatever that boy says, but he doesn’t listen to anyone else.”
Oh, yeah. Like she’d jump on and ride off. “No worries. Starburst and I are on good terms.”
“He does seem to like you. Here you go.” He handed her the reins and left her there, holding the horse. Her entire life, she’d heard that if you were nervous around horses or dogs or any other critter with four legs, they knew it and they reacted. So she stood very still and let Starburst take a gander. He was...huge. He sniffed her hair and nuzzled her shirt and apparently decided she wasn’t all that interesting. To her relief, Drake walked in just as she was starting to feel she’d fallen short of the horse’s expectations.
Drake looked startled, coming in wearing the usual ensemble of faded jeans, boots and, since the air was cool this morning, a red flannel shirt over his white T-shirt. Naturally, his two sidekicks trotted in right on his heels. “You saddled him?”
“No. Of course not! I couldn’t saddle a turtle.”
“That’s what I thought. Ryder did it?”
She could swear the dogs had that same inquiring expression.
“No, Red.”
Drake did laugh about the turtle comment, although that wasn’t flattering.
She needed to learn the art of saddling a horse before she left Wyoming. A whole summer on a ranch and no saddling skills? Yup, she needed to learn.
Always a Cowboy Page 11
