“Oh.” She paused. “Yes, he’s...”
“Prickly? Antisocial? A curmudgeon?” Fisher loved seeing her laugh. “Lacking social graces? Crusty? Opinionated?”
She held up her hand, still laughing. “He has a strong personality.”
He nodded, thinking over her description. “I think you nailed that on the head. You could also replace strong with difficult.”
She shook her head, still smiling. “Why is he staying with you?”
“Water pipe broke. He lives in one of the original ranch buildings, over a hundred years old. I’m not sure why, since it’s barely standing and it’s nothing special to look at. It’d probably be easier to knock it down and start over, but that would take time. And, as you might have picked up on, Archer isn’t a patient sort.” He shrugged. “So, until the place is fixed, I invited him to stay with me. Now I get to enjoy the pleasure of his company every single day.”
She nodded. “Sounds about right.”
He cocked a brow. “Meaning?”
“You...you would do something like that.” She cleared her throat. “Be generous, I mean.”
“First nice, now generous.” His attention shifted to the barn and lookout tower. “Is that another strike against me?”
“There are no strikes against you, Fisher.” Her voice was low, but he heard her.
In the fading sunlight, her eyes were crystal blue. Her cheeks were pink, but he hoped it had nothing to do with the lingering heat of the day. He wanted to be the reason she blushed and her breath hitched. More than anything, he wanted to be the reason for her blinding smiles.
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, fighting the urge to take her hand in his. He ached to touch her.
“We just need to figure out how to show Dr. Marcus what a catch you are.” Kylee smiled, turning her attention back to the ranch.
Disappointment hit him hard, right in the gut.
“Kylee?” Shawn stepped out onto the back deck, followed by Eli. “Didn’t know where you were.”
Fisher watched the exchange—Kylee’s apology, Shawn’s anxiety. His sister’s warning filled his ears. She’s going to have scars, Fisher. I’m thinking they might be pretty deep. It wasn’t only Kylee’s past he’d have to deal with. Shawn and Eli were about the same age, but inside he suspected Shawn’s life experiences had aged him. Eli radiated confidence and humor. Shawn was uncertain and wary.
“I wanted her to see the view before it was too dark,” Fisher explained, waving Shawn closer. “See that building down there?” he asked. “That’s the horse barn.”
Shawn pushed the hair from his eyes and leaned against the railing. “The big white one?”
“That’s the one. Thought maybe after we eat I could take you down there. Camp starts next week, so this would be like a preview,” Fisher offered.
“You can meet Red,” Eli offered. “He’s my horse.”
Shawn glanced at Kylee. “Can we?”
“Definitely,” Kylee agreed, hesitating briefly before asking, “Fisher, you said something about needing help with the hayrides?”
His insides shifted. She was giving him her trust. He liked it. “I’m leading the hayrides in a few weeks, for Labor Day. I need someone to help out. Check harnesses, give the horses water and replace hay bales as we go. Eli said he’d help, so I need one more set of hands.”
Shawn looked between the two of them. “Really? I mean, I don’t know anything about harnesses or hay bales—”
“I’ll teach you,” Fisher interrupted.
“Me, too,” Eli offered.
Fisher grinned at his nephew. “You’ll be a pro in no time.”
Shawn’s smile gutted him. The boy didn’t smile enough. He didn’t complain or pout, he just never seemed happy. “I’ll do my best, Doc.”
“I know you will,” Fisher agreed.
“Hey, there you are.” Renata poked her head out. “Dinner’s ready. Hope you have some room in your refrigerators. You’ll be taking some leftovers home with you. Dad went a little crazy in the kitchen. If you don’t take some home, we’ll be eating beans, brisket and coleslaw for a month.”
Shawn and Eli hurried back inside while Kylee lingered at the railing. “It’s just so pretty,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Take your time, Kylee, there’s no rush.” He left her staring out at the hills, content that she was there—a part of his world.
Chapter Seven
Fisher didn’t say much on the ride from the Lodge to the horse barn. Eli was doing a fine job of keeping the conversation going. Shawn’s occasional grunt or one-or two-word answers was all Eli needed to keep talking. Archer sat beside him in the front, lost in his own thoughts.
“We have between fifteen and twenty horses here,” Eli was saying.
“More, if you count the rehabilitation center,” Archer added.
Fisher smiled at the pride in his brother’s voice. Archer might be a “strong personality,” but his heart was in the right place—especially when it came to horses. He loved horses more than anything in the world. That included most people.
“Why do horses need rehab?” Shawn asked. “I thought that was drinking and drugs and stuff.”
“Luckily, most animals don’t need that sort of rehab,” Fisher said. “Archer takes in animals that have been neglected, abandoned or abused. He helps them heal, body and spirit. And, when they’re ready, he helps them find a home.” He finished, aware that Archer was watching him. “What?”
“Nothing,” Archer murmured, a smile on his face.
Fisher parked, barely out of the truck before Eli and Shawn ran into the barn.
“Think they’re excited?” Fisher asked, reaching to the dashboard to grab the bag of apples he’d brought.
“They’re boys.” Archer said, as if that explained everything. “Think I’ll take the ATV and head out. I have some charts to review.”
Fisher suspected his brother was done being sociable and knew no one here would stop him from leaving. “I’ll be along later,” Fisher said.
Archer paused. “You like this girl, don’t you?”
Fisher regarded his brother over the hood of his truck. “Yep.”
Archer nodded. Fisher waited for more of a response, but Archer said, “This weekend we should work on the foreman’s house.” Clearly, he wasn’t spending too much time worrying over his little brother’s love life. But it made Fisher smile nonetheless.
“Maybe. But Renata wanted to meet and talk about Labor Day prep work,” Fisher reminded him.
Archer raised an eyebrow. “That’s more than a month away. There’s plenty of time to fix the water main and do what Renata needs, too.” He paused. “If we all work together, it could happen.” He headed to the shed where the all-terrain vehicles were kept.
Fisher shook his head. He was more than ready for Archer to be back in his own place, but he had a hard time believing Ryder, Hunter and Renata would see things Archer’s way. Most of them were working the Labor Day events in some form or fashion because it was a big event that the Boones had always been heavily involved with. Renata had had this on the calendar for months. As ready as he was to get Archer out of his place, he suspected they would remain roommates for a while.
He headed into the barn, the faint nicker of horses and the soothing scent of hay greeting him. He’d spent countless hours here, creating some of his best memories—his first saddle, his first kiss and the first time he’d won a fight.
Eli and Shawn were already in front of Red’s stall. The horse was snorting and blowing into Eli’s open hand but Shawn stood back, his arms crossed, hands tucked into his armpits. Shawn might have liked the look of horses, but he wasn’t ready to get up close and personal. Red was gentle, though, great with kids, or Hunter woul
d never have allowed his son near him. But Shawn didn’t know that.
“What do you think?” Eli asked.
“He’s big,” Shawn answered.
“Not as big as Uncle Fisher’s horse.” Eli stroked the side of Red’s neck.
Fisher shrugged. “Have to have a big horse. I’m a big guy.” He studied the boy’s posture, hoping Shawn wouldn’t be too intimidated. “I remember when I was little, the hardest part of riding was getting on the horse. It looked like a long way up. And once I was up, it looked like an even longer way down.”
“Ever fall off?” Shawn asked.
Fisher shook his head. “When I was a boy? No. My dad only put me on sure-footed, reliable horses.” He paused. “I can tell you this much, you treat a horse right, he’ll be your friend for life.”
Shawn regarded Red again. “Ever get stepped on?”
“Why do you think a cowboy wears boots?” Eli asked.
“We just bought me some.” Shawn mumbled. “Do all the horses stay here? Where’s yours, Fisher?”
“Waylon?” Fisher asked. “He’s out here. You’ve met him before, haven’t you?” He led the boys down the row of stalls and from the barn to one of the small corrals out back. Waylon must have seen the truck because the large buckskin was waiting at the fence. His ears cocked forward as he whinnied in greeting.
“Now, that’s a big horse,” Eli said.
“That he is,” Fisher agreed. Red barely reached fourteen hands. Waylon was a quarter horse–Belgian cross, heavily muscled and sixteen-plus hands tall. But he was agile and sweet tempered, and Waylon and Fisher understood each other. Fisher had taken one look at the horse and known the two of them would be a good team. He’d been right. Waylon followed him around like a dog, content to be in Fisher’s company. He and Chance hadn’t hit it off yet, but Fisher had high hopes the two would become fast friends and the three of them would enjoy riding the trails together.
“Did I tell you about Chance?” he asked, handing the apples to Shawn.
“What about him?” Shawn frowned. “Is he okay? Did he get sick?”
“He’s great. Got so energetic and busy I had to take him home so he didn’t get in the way,” Fisher said, chuckling. “I figured it’d be too crowded to bring him tonight, since he’s still learning his manners.”
Shawn smiled. “I bet he’ll love it out here. I know I would. All this room to run is good for him, isn’t it?”
“It is. He’s a handful, let me tell you,” Fisher said, stepping closer to Waylon. The horse head-butted him, blowing hard against his chest. “Chasing cows. He chased a raccoon up a tree, and I had to drag him inside to get him to stop barking.”
“So his leg isn’t bothering him?” Shawn asked, smiling.
“It’s not slowing him down,” Fisher promised.
“I’m glad.” Shawn looked at him. “I appreciate you fixing him up, Dr. Fisher. And tonight, too. It’s the first night we’ve gone out since we moved here. Anyway, most of the time Kylee’s working.”
Fisher nodded. Maybe he could get Kylee’s permission to bring Shawn riding a few nights this week. It would be better if the boy wasn’t so uneasy on the first day of camp. “Bet he smells the apples.” Eli laughed as Waylon gave him a gentle nudge.
Fisher scratched Waylon’s forelock and patted his neck reassuringly. “You think so?” He glanced at the boys.
Shawn grinned as the horse nudged him again. “I think he does.”
“Go ahead.” Fisher paused. “The trick is to keep your hand flat. Waylon doesn’t want fingers, just apples.”
It took a few minutes for Shawn to get up the nerve to put his hand out. Fisher stayed close by, stroking the horse’s neck and talking in a low, soothing voice. He knew Waylon liked that, and maybe it would ease Shawn, too. The last thing he wanted was for Shawn to have a bad experience with a horse.
Shawn smiled from ear to ear when Waylon crunched the apple from his hand.
“There they are,” Renata said, leading Josie and Kylee toward them. “Always showing off Waylon, the big man on the ranch.”
“Look at him. He’s a damn fine horse. You can’t deny it. Can they, Waylon?” Fisher asked as Waylon snuffled his neck and head.
Kylee’s laugh reached him through the others. All night he’d tried not to react to her voice, her smile and the occasional laugh. He tried not to give his brothers teasing ammunition or do anything to make Cutter or his father suspect he was sweet on Kylee. At one point, Florence had announced that she wouldn’t forgive him for not inviting her to their wedding.
While he’d tried not to choke on his mouthful of beans, Annabeth assured her grandmother that the invitations had yet to go out. Poor Flo’s dementia came and went, making conversation somewhat challenging. But Kylee’s reaction to Flo’s bewildered expression had touch him deeply. She’d smiled kindly, taken Flo’s hand in hers and offered to refill her drink.
Kylee hadn’t said much during dinner. She was polite and helpful—clearing the table and helping out with Flo and the boys without being asked. He couldn’t know for certain, but she’d seemed to enjoy herself. He hoped so. His family was big and loud, but they were good people.
Waylon rumbled low in his chest and leaned against the fence. Fisher smiled, stepping close enough for Waylon to rest his chin on the back of Fisher’s shoulder. Waylon was a hugger. It tickled Fisher that something as big as Waylon could be so loving and affectionate. Fisher patted the side of Waylon’s neck. When Waylon lifted his head, Fisher caught sight of Kylee’s reaction. Was it his imagination or did she look like she was going to cry?
“Did you wash your hair in cologne?” Renata asked.
“He loves me,” Fisher shot back, watching Kylee. But she was focused on Waylon, mystified. He’d grown up around animals, he knew how capable of affection they were. But maybe she didn’t.
“You are pretty easy to love,” Josie teased. “Even if you are freakishly big.”
“It’s all part of my charm,” he countered.
“Kylee,” Shawn called her closer.
Kylee was at his side, staring up at him and the horse. “What’s he saying?”
“He wants a proper introduction,” he said, stepping back from the horse. “Waylon, this pretty lady right here is Kylee. Kylee, this big, beautiful beast is Waylon.”
Waylon nickered softly, making Kylee chuckle. “What did he say?” she asked, watching the horse.
“He said it was mighty fine to meet you.” Fisher added, “And he’d be honored if you’d feed him an apple.” He paused.
“All that?” she reached out, hesitant.
“Trust me, horse is my second language.” He watched her, her fingers running along Waylon’s neck.
“Here, Kylee.” Shawn offered her an apple.
She took it, smiling when Waylon sniffed around her chest and head.
“Keep your hand flat,” Shawn said. “That way your fingers don’t get chomped.”
Kylee glanced at Shawn, then Fisher, then Waylon. “You won’t bite me, will you?” she asked quietly. She kept her hand flat as Waylon devoured the apple.
“Who will Shawn ride for camp, Uncle Fisher?” Eli asked.
“I was thinking Soldier,” Fisher said, tearing his gaze from Kylee to check with his sister.
“Or Trigger,” Renata added.
Fisher nodded. “Both are good, even-tempered, sure-footed horses.”
“I’ll show you,” Eli said.
Shawn and Eli sprinted off, running in and out of the light halos cast by the lamps mounted along the fence line. Renata and Josie ambled after them.
“He’s really beautiful,” Kylee whispered, her fingers sliding through Waylon’s mane. Waylon turned into her, head-butting her shoulder and whiffling her hair. She giggled, stroking the horse’s fore
lock. “What is it?”
She looked beautiful, her smile so sweet he felt its warmth deep inside of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “He likes you.”
“I doubt that,” she argued, amused. “He likes apples.”
Fisher regarded her closely. “It’s possible he likes both.”
She glanced at him. “I guess.” She patted Waylon’s shoulder, finally aware that they were alone. “Any progress with Brook?”
He frowned. “Define progress.”
“Have you asked her out?” She paused. “Told her she’s pretty?”
“Is that what I’m supposed to do?” he asked, giving Waylon a final pat before making his way back to the barn.
“If she was here right now, what would you do?” she asked, walking at his side.
He shrugged.
“What do you want to do?” she asked.
He paused, looking at her. She stopped, waiting. He knew exactly what he wanted to do—and it had nothing to do with Brook. He took her hand slowly, gently pulling her closer. Her eyes went round as he placed her hand on his chest and slid his arms around her waist. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and his lungs were all but empty, but he didn’t stop. He bent his head, cradling one soft cheek in the palm of his hand, and kissed her. It was a soft, light, slow kiss, just enough to feel the softness of her lips, the curve of her fingers as she plucked at his shirt and the rasp of their mixed breaths.
He should lift his head, put some space between them, but she was holding on to him—not pushing him away. And he wasn’t ready to let go.
He ran his nose along her temple and jaw, his arms tightening the slightest bit as his mouth touched hers. He kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other, lingering on the fullness of her lower lip. She gasped, her lips parting just enough to let him in. The touch of her tongue, the heat of her breath, the feel of her body pressed tight against his...he couldn’t stop the soft groan that tore from him.
He pulled back, staring down at her. She looked as dazed as he felt—if that was possible.
He could tell her, right now, what he was thinking. It might cost him her friendship. It probably would cost him her friendship. Deep down he knew she wasn’t ready to hear what he wanted to say. He forced out, “That’s what I want to do.”
Courted by the Cowboy Page 11
