Rugged Hearts

by Amanda McIntyre

  “Hi. Aren’t you the guy whose apple I maimed?”

  Wyatt turned with a startled glance to see Aimee Worth standing beside him at the drugstore register.

  The clerk cleared his throat and stifled a grin.

  “We had coffee. You left in quite a hurry, if memory serves.”

  The woman was like a pit bull in a pink coat. Damned if he understood why he found the idea sexy. Astounded by the fact she’d speak to him after the way he’d left the café, Wyatt didn’t know what to say.

  “Sure. It’s Abby, right?” He glanced at her and pulled out his wallet, wanting to make this purchase fast. He didn’t want to get into why he’d left so quickly, but he felt if he hung around too long she would demand to know. “What do I owe you?” he asked the clerk. Of course, he remembered her, about every other second in the past twenty-four hours. That kiss, meant to prove wrong some justifiable blow she’d made to his ego, had backfired, scaring him to death with its intensity. Ever since, he’d been drumming up reasons why he shouldn’t want more.

  “That’s two cartridges—one color, one black, and two packs of paper. It comes to ninety-five fifty, total.”

  “My name’s Aimee,” she corrected. “What are you writing, your memoirs?” She tossed him a smile.

  He shot her a side look. “Yeah, something like that.” He accepted his change, nodded his thanks to the clerk, and grabbed his purchase. “See you around.” He headed for the door. It wasn’t fair to lead her on into thinking they were going to become best friends. It wasn’t going to happen. He had two people in his life he trusted—Dalton and Rein. Women, he’d discovered the hard way, couldn’t be trusted. He admitted to himself he’d accepted her invitation based on his libido, but after five minutes talking to her, she was no more interested in a one-night stand than he was in a long-term arrangement. A twinge of concern niggled at the back of his brain, though, when he looked into her eyes. She looked tired, as if she were having trouble sleeping, but he quickly chalked it up to the hazards of teaching, especially, he surmised around the holidays. He gave her credit for that. He’d sooner brand a herd of calves than wrangle a room of kids.

  “So, tell me, have you ever let school children come out to your place? You know, like on a field trip?”

  Almost at the door, Wyatt halted and pivoted on his heel, surprised when she nearly smacked into his chest. He caught her by the shoulders, and she stepped back, looking a little dazed. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your question.”

  She looked up at him and he noticed then the dark shadows evident beneath her eyes. Maybe she was coming down with something.

  “I asked if you’d ever had kids out to the ranch on a field trip. You’re familiar with the term field trip, correct?”

  The unexpected question caused him to think a moment before he spoke. “Well no, I can’t say I have. A cattle ranch is not the best place for children—small children,” he added, seeing her puzzled expression.

  She didn’t respond, only studied him as though deciding whether or not to accept his answer. “Have a good day, then.” He held open the door for her.

  She blinked and walked ahead of him before turning to look at him. “Thank you.”

  He tipped his hat, glad for the frigid air to keep his senses clear. “Welcome. If you’ll excuse me.” He gingerly stepped around her on the narrow, shoveled path to get to his truck.

  “I guess it’s easy to forget what it was like to be a child.”

  He stepped over a small drift and stomped his boot as he stood next to his cab. “Well, I guess we all grow up.” It was a lame answer, granted. He couldn’t remember ever being a kid, but he’d learned to deal with it and accept what life had handed him.

  “Hey, you want to tell me what I said to make you leave the other day?”

  He released the door handle. There was no easy way around this. He tossed the package on the front seat and walked over to where she stood. “About the other day….”

  “You don’t owe me a lengthy explanation. I just thought, you know, one minute you’re kissing me and the next, I’m watching you drive away.” She tipped her head. “Maybe I was wrong, but I thought things were going in an okay direction there for a while.”

  Wyatt looked down at her. She was a sight. With a silly striped hat pulled down over her ears, her cheeks and nose tinged pink from the cold, she appeared innocent, but the look in those eyes was anything but. More confusing, however, was the way his body seemed to react to being near her. “Just to be clear, I’ve never done that before.”

  “Kissed a woman?”

  “Kissed a woman like that in public.”

  One delicate brow rose. “And you left because you had second thoughts about it?”

  “No, I mean….” He let out a quiet sigh. “You sort of brought it on yourself.”

  “Are you referring, then, to the kiss, or bugging out on our coffee date?”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “Oh, right. Like that justifies getting up and walking out of a conversation.”

  He eyed her. “You’ve got quite a mouth on you for a teacher.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “Listen, I apologize for leaving in such a hurry.” He looked around, realizing that whenever he was in her presence, his thoughts became muddled.

  “Apology accepted. Why did you leave? Are you uncomfortable around me?”

  “Maybe…a little,” he admitted, meeting her steady gaze.

  “Why?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear. If he told her the truth, she most likely wouldn’t like it—or him—which might not be a bad idea.

  “You might not like the answer,” he stated, eyeing her.

  “Try me.”

  Wyatt considered whether to cut his losses or be straight with her. He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening between them, but he knew what he didn’t want to happen. He wasn’t looking for any entanglements and maybe it was better to nip the potential of this one in the bud. “I misunderstood your coming on to me the other day.”

  Her face crumpled into a frown. “Misunderstood? I’m not following. When was I coming on to you? By asking you to coffee?”

  “I thought maybe you were interested in a little fun.”

  “A little fun?” Her expression was skeptical. “Oh, I see. Does this normally work for you? The whole to-be-brutally-honest-I-just-want-you-for-your-body routine?”

  He held up his hands in defense. “You asked. I told you I wasn’t into the dating thing.” Wyatt held her puzzled gaze. She wasn’t buying what he was selling and truthfully, he questioned whether he was, either. Unfortunately, the day before he’d reacted on a whim and he shouldn’t have. Now she expected more, and he couldn’t give it to her.

  She studied him a moment more. “Um, yeah, you did.” A small smile formed on her lips as she slowly shook her head. “For the record, no, I wasn’t looking for a good time. I can go down to the male strip clubs in Billings if I want that.”

  Really? He tried not to react, but she didn’t seem the strip-club type. He shrugged.

  “But that’s not my style.” She tipped her head and looked at him. “Nor do I really buy that you’re so shallow. But I could be wrong.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Which was the point of asking you to coffee. And for the record. That kiss, wasn’t my fault.” She pointed her mittened finger at him.

  “Okay, the kiss was a mistake. And fine, we’ll say it was mine. But you have to admit you were flirting. I’m not so old I don’t recognize that.”

  She smiled then. “Okay, maybe a little. I admit, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a real date with a guy. This place isn’t exactly crawling with possibilities.”

  “Don’t say those kinds of things to me, Aimee.”

  “A little too long out on the range there, cowboy?” she asked with a teasing smile.

  Dammit. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up backpedaling to make her like him, and he wasn’t ready yet, or c
ertain all together he’d ever be. “Listen, I won’t lie. I’m attracted to you and yeah, it’s been a while for me, too. And there’s no doubt in my mind we’d be good—very good, together.”

  Her eyes widened. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she whispered.

  “But here’s the thing, I’m not looking for anything permanent. I’m happy with my life the way it is. I want no entanglements, no complications. Are you with me here?”

  She blinked. “Oh, I hear you, yes. I’m just not sure where you’re going with it.”

  He blew out an exasperated sigh. “I guess what I’m saying is if the attraction is the same for you and at some point you feel you’d like to get together—”

  “Are you offering me a cowboy booty call?” Her brows rose under her hat.

  “I prefer to think of it as consensual. We’re both adults, Aimee. We know what we want, what we need.”

  Her blue eyes studied him as though scrutinizing whether his performance was real or not. He prayed he was doing a good enough job convincing her because he wasn’t sure how much more of this pushing-her-away-for-her-own-good business he could take.

  “Wow, as romantic as that sounds, cowboy, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  He tipped his hat. “Take all the time you need.” He turned to leave.

  “Right, since you’re such a bad-ass mountain man.” Her comment slapped him on the back of the head. “Isn’t that really what you want people to think?”

  Dammit. She hadn’t bought it. He drew in a tolerant breath and climbed into the cab of his truck. Tenacious was too mild a word for this woman. “I suppose it’s my life, and I reckon I can live it as I see fit.”

  She followed him to the truck, tapped on his window, and waited while he rolled it down. “First let me just say that I ‘reckon’ it is your life, but you have no reason to put on that mask for me. I know more about you than you think, Wyatt Kinnison, and for reasons I haven’t yet figured out, I happen to like you anyway, despite your bristly attitude about dating. And”—she held up her finger—“just for the record, Casanova, if I was interested in you like that, you’d know it. So don’t you lose any sleep. Are you with me here?” She smiled.

  He dropped his hand over the wheel and looked away. That knowledge wasn’t going to lessen his recent fantasies about her. Not to mention he was now curious what more she knew about him, though he’d bet his life that Betty had been the one to tell her.

  “Now about those field trips?” she reminded him.

  He pulled from his reverie and threw her a tolerant look. “Yes, I know what they are, and no, we’ve never had kids to the ranch.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Jed had only had the children of the help at the ranch.

  She nodded. “So you don’t feel it’s important to educate students about the businesses that keep this town alive?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he remarked, “and further, I don’t know where you’re going with this.” He flipped on the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Did people really see him as a badass mountain man? Really?

  “So you do believe in a quality education that includes not only the origins of End of the Line but its commerce and goals for the future?” She raised her voice over the roar of the motor as she stepped back onto the sidewalk.

  “I would never deny a child the chance to learn,” he called to her. What a persistent, infuriating woman.

  “Then you won’t mind…”

  The low rumble of a salt truck passed behind him, and he watched her mouth moving but couldn’t decipher her exact words. She finished speaking and raised her palms with a shrug. Something about maybe seeing him on Thursday? Okay, so maybe she’d decided to give him a call after all. He responded with a wave and a quick nod, figuring he’d let her make the first move. He had to admit, the idea of going on date with Aimee, as long as she understood the parameters, sounded damn appealing.

  She stood on the sidewalk and held her mitten up to her ear, her mouth forming the words, “I’ll call you.”

  He smiled and waved again before shifting his truck into reverse. The loud blast of a car horn shocked him, and he stomped on the brake, narrowly avoiding colliding with a car passing behind him. He admonished himself for letting his mind wander to when he’d hear next from Ms. Aimee Worth.

  ***

  Aimee had no idea how crazy schoolchildren could be just before the holidays. She sighed, tossed her book bag and paper on the couch, and stretched her arms over her head to relieve the tension settled in her lower back. She glanced at the boot-shaped wall clock her father—exhibiting his own brand of humor—had sent her for Christmas.

  “At least it wasn’t Billy the Singing Bass,” her mother commented during an impromptu phone call. “I had to get a little terse with him about it. I figure you owe me, young lady.”

  The clock struck five and started in with a few lines from It’s Five O’clock Somewhere. Aimee shook her head and stood, watching the sunset over the mountains. It was her favorite time of day. She hardly noticed when the music stopped playing. If she hurried, she’d have time for a relaxing soak in the tub and a quick supper before her online class started.

  An hour later, having donned her yoga pants and an oversize sweatshirt, she carried a fried-egg sandwich to her small kitchen table, which doubled as a work area. As she scanned her e-mails and wondered if Montana would be as spirited tonight, an odd feeling struck her. She reopened her class file and read carefully through Montana’s posts. On a hunch, she picked up the phone, and dialed. “Hey, Sal, it’s Aimee. You know the big ranch family south of town?”

  “You mean the Kinnison brothers? Oh yeah, I know who they are. Rein and Dalton are in town quite a lot. Rein is technically a step-cousin, I think, but they’ve always referred to themselves as brothers—all three of them. Jed virtually raised them from preteens on. Wyatt is the oldest. Now there’s a delicious alternative to a warm blanket on a cold winter night.”

  Aimee agreed without divulging too much more on the topic. Strange it seemed Sally hadn’t brought up the public kiss yet. Then again, maybe it happened so quick that it went unnoticed.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I maybe had coffee with Wyatt the other day.”

  “I don’t know which surprises me more, the fact it was Wyatt or you’ve kept this from me for this long. Good Lord, Aimee, do you realize that’s the closest thing to a date you’ve had since you arrived?”

  “Thanks for the reminder, but I don’t think you need to go pick out a bridesmaid’s dress just yet.”

  There was a gasp, followed by a female squeal on the other end of the line. “I would so love someday to give you a bachelorette party.”

  Aimee frowned into the phone. “Sal, there’s no wedding. I was joking with you.” Aimee made a mental note to watch how she expressed herself on the topic of men with Sally.

  “Oh.” There was no masking the disappointment in her voice. “So spill, honey, what was it like?”

  Aimee thought for a moment how best to describe the coffee date. “Awkward. You’d have thought I asked him for blood, the way he hemmed and hawed around.” She chose to leave out the part about the mind-blowing kiss. “Things were going well until….”

  “Until?”

  “I brought up his and how involved it seemed he was in the community, especially during the holidays. I was hoping maybe to get him on board with my fundraiser, but I never got the chance to ask.”

  “Oh,” Sally commented. “I could have told you not to bring up anything involving service projects. Wyatt is nice and all, but not exactly Mr. Social. I’ve heard him referred to as the Grinch.”

  “I found that out the hard way,” Aimee stated. “He left rather abruptly and said he had things to do.”

  “He probably did. He is the head of the Kinnison ranch. The brawn, as they say, behind its success.”

  “So I heard. Betty explained a few things about his past after he left.”

  “True, I’ve heard rumblings t
hat things got pretty bad out there for a while. I’m sorry, honey. Any chance you might see him again?”

  “I don’t know, but I wanted to ask you something. It’s probably a crazy hunch.”

  “Okay, but talk fast. We’ve got class in ten minutes.”

  “Well, I was in town buying copy paper over lunch today and guess who I ran into?”

  “Shot in the dark. Wyatt Kinnison?” There was a smile in her voice.

  “Yes, and you won’t guess what he was buying,” Aimee responded.

  “Uh, probably not. What?”

  “Printer ink.”

  “Damn, I was going to say that.” Sally chuckled.

  “Seriously. He was buying printer ink and two reams of paper.”

  A long stretch of silence followed. Finally Sally spoke, “Okay, I’ll bite. Where is this going?”

  “I’ll bet you lunch at Betty’s that Montana is none other than, Wyatt Kinnison.”

  There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. “Wishful thinking, honey. I can’t imagine a man like Wyatt being caught within fifty feet of a creative writing class of any kind, especially poetry, online or off.”

  “Really? Are you sure? What if it’s him?” Based on Betty’s stories, the sense of bitterness Montana expressed in response to her post, and then on top of that, discovering the hermit Wyatt in the drugstore buying paper and printer ink…she shivered with the same anticipation of sneaking down to see your presents on Christmas morning. “Don’t you have a way to look up the registration information for your class?”

  “That’s all taken care of at the Billings Community College central office. I only get e-mails to send the class assignments to.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re going to owe me lunch,” Sally warned with a light laugh.

  Aimee blew out a sigh. “Look, the thing is, he agreed to my bringing the kids out to the ranch next Thursday. A mini-field trip, you know.”

  “Wyatt Kinnison, Mr. Grinch, gave you permission to visit the ranch?” Sally responded dubiously.

  “Well, yeah, it was more like a nod and a wave, but he agreed that the kids around here would benefit from knowing what keeps this town alive.”