by Erica Penrod
Viv stopped and looked up into his face. The small creases at the corners of his eyes told her he was older than her. His stubble was thicker than when she met him, and when he leaned in closer, she almost forgot to hate him.
“Why … why not?” she stammered.
“Because he’s not here,” Boone said with laughter in his voice. He stood up and hopped down a couple steps. He looked back at her over his shoulder. “I assume he’s at Amanda’s. Heaven knows, I’d take her mansion over …” He surveyed the house for the second time today. “This place any day.” He smirked, his eyes raking over her body, his eyebrows lifting in appreciation. “Looks like you’re a big girl now. You have a place of your own."
For the briefest second, Viv had let herself believe the man wasn’t a total jerk. That was the last time she’d make that mistake.
Chapter 4
Viv slammed the door, called Boone Jameson a couple names she’d picked up from some truck drivers at the diner, and threw her keys on the table. A napkin with a note from her dad was propped against the salt and pepper shakers.
Went to Amanda’s. We’ll talk in the morning.
Thanks to Boone, she already knew, but at least her dad had the courtesy to let her know where he was. Amanda must’ve had something to do with that. There were many nights when Viv had wondered about his whereabouts, but she learned not to worry. He showed up eventually.
The clock on the wall said it was after one in the morning, and the pounding in her head screamed that she was up way too late. Viv knew there was nothing more to do than to surrender and try to sleep. The problem was that she felt wide awake after her encounter with Boone.
Embarrassed that she allowed Boone to tear her guard down like a bad barb wire fence, she walked to the kitchen sink and splashed some cold water on her face.
What was it about him that made her act that way? She’d been around attractive men before, but none that made her all gooey-eyed and flustered. Even if the symptoms lasted a mere few seconds, she was disgusted with herself.
Driven to succeed as a professional trainer, she wasn’t interested in anyone or anything else. Her response to Boone must’ve had something to do with the fact that he was a cutting horse trainer. That she could live with, at least through the night. Tomorrow morning, her pride might not be as forgiving.
After a hot shower, Viv climbed into bed. Closing her eyes, her mind raced like a hamster in a wheel, playing over all the different events that happened earlier that day. Sleep wasn’t anywhere within reach, so she decided to think about Lucas’s job offer. This was her decision to make, not her father’s, which was one of the most appealing aspects of his proposal. But did she want to work for Lucas Royal?
Lucas gave her two different options: she could live at home and drive to the Royal’s ranch, or she could have room and board in the apartment above one of barns. This should’ve been an easy decision, and her leaving might let her father know just how much she did around here.
Of course, she didn’t know what the future held for this place, now that nuptials were part of the assets. Where would her father live? She couldn’t see Amanda Royal living here, and she couldn’t imagine her father leaving this place. Then again, what did she know? The man she lived with would have never secretly gotten married either.
Whatever her father had to say in the morning couldn’t influence her decision. This had to be about her and her alone. Squashing the guilt rising in her gut about leaving her home and her father, she put the pillow over her face. Suffocation or sleep was the last coherent thought she had.
* * *
Answer the door, Lucas mumbled to himself as he knocked on the McIntyres’ door for the third time.
“She’s probably still sleeping,” a voice said from behind him.
Lucas spun around to see his uncle coming down the driveway on a horse.
“We were up pretty late last night,” Boone said, and winked at Lucas.
The muscle in Lucas’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. “Oh.”
His uncle Boone had never been around much, and when he was, he treated his nephew like an irritation. Maybe that was because there was just a few years’ difference between them, which made them more like siblings.
“Good to know. I’ll give her a few more minutes.” He grinned, making sure his self-confidence appeared unshaken. “She’s expecting me.”
“Suit yourself,” Boone said, and kissed to the horse, who took off in a trot.
Lucas pulled his phone from his pocket and sat on the step. He texted Viv for the third time in forty-five minutes. He said he’d give her time to think about his job offer, and she’d had several hours. Looking around the dilapidated house and landscape, Lucas wondered why Viv had any hesitation about moving over to his place.
Just his arenas alone—one heated enclosure for the winter and another lighted outdoor facility—were worth the move. He noticed an antique tractor with a more up-to-date tiller attached off to the side of their arena. Lucas couldn’t imagine that fossilized dinosaur clawed through the earth to keep the dirt soft for the horses. Viv wouldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the equipment the Royals owned to keep the ground at optimum condition. For a woman, as equestrian enthusiastic as she was, his place was like an eight-year-old with a lifetime pass to the Disney World.
The phone vibrated in his hand. His mother. He pushed the ignore button, not wanting to discuss her new husband, like she tried to a dozen times yesterday. Lucas needed Viv’s answer. His obsession had nothing to do with his unresolved feelings about his mother’s marriage or the death of his father. He told himself Vivien and this cutting thing were just another investment, like college, like starting his business, and not a way to keep so busy he couldn’t think about the past.
There were very few times in life that he waited for anything, and he was going out of his mind with the unknown. Control kept him calm and if he wanted his horse ready for the next world finals, he needed a trainer now. Not just any trainer; he wanted her.
Standing up, he knocked again. This time the door swung open, and Viv stood there in an old Willie Nelson T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms.
“Oh my gosh, have some patience!” she said, and left him standing in the doorway. He stood there until she called, “Come in.”
Lucas followed her into the house and caught his breath as he closed the door behind him. He was trapped in a time warp, caught somewhere in the 1980s, maybe earlier.
To his left was a small family room, not much larger than his walk-in closet. A worn path in the tan carpet led to a plaid couch under a clouded window, and a vinyl recliner repaired with various colors of duct tape sat against the east wall. Across from the chair was the only modern piece in the room: a large flat-screen television, resting comfortably on what Lucas thought was an old dresser, but then realized there was an old television inside the wooden cabinet.
“Are you hungry?” he heard Viv ask.
He turned right and walked into the kitchen, where a round table sat in the middle of the room. Yellow oak cabinets hung above countertops of white Formica. A small black microwave sat in the corner along with some other appliances Lucas thought he’d seen in antique stores his mom used to drag him to.
“Lucas?”
“Yeah?” He looked over at Viv.
“Do want something to eat?” she asked over her shoulder as she got up on her tip-toes to reach a bowl from the top shelf.
Lucas watched her, his mind taken away by flannel PJs and a grey shirt. Auburn hair had been tied in a knot, with escaping curls falling over her, just like he was. What was it about Vivien McIntyre that fascinated him? She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, certainly not the best dressed, and most of the time she was mean to him.
“What are you staring at?”
Lucas blinked. “Nothing. Just admiring your pajamas.” He helped himself to a chair at the table.
Viv wrinkled her brow. “What … not silk? Not expensive enou
gh for you?”
Lucas folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, that’s it.” He shook his head. “I don’t ever think about anything but money.”
A bowl appeared in front of him along with a box of sugarcoated cereal.
“I thought when you asked if I wanted something to eat that you were going to cook for me.”
Viv tipped her head back and laughed. “Well, you thought wrong.”
The sun shone in through the window, casting a hazy glow around her. Dust motes drifted in the air, the moment burned in his memory forever. The first time she laughed with him. That grin. That was what he wanted.
She opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, and closed the door with a swing of her hip. She had two spoons in her other hand and offered him one. “There’s a reason I’m a waitress and not a short-order cook.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, taking the utensil. “I trust you’re a better horse trainer than a chef.”
“Well, big brother,” she said, pouring cereal into her bowl. “… I guess I can call you that now.” She rolled her eyes, set the box down, twisted the lid from the milk, and pointed it at him. “That is the one thing I am good at. Heck, I’m better than good. I’m great with horses.”
“I’m counting on it,” was all he managed to get out. The air was gone from his lungs. Viv’s reference to him as a brother was like a lead weight.
“Why did you buy a cutting horse, anyway? I didn’t know you had any interest in horses.”
Lucas took a deep breath. “It’s a good investment. Besides, I grew up with horses.”
“You did?” Viv asked with a mouthful.
“Yeah. I just didn’t want to advertise that in high school.”
She swallowed. “Of course. You couldn’t be known as the rich redneck in boots.”
“You’re in a great mood this morning.”
“Sorry. I feel like I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole, only I’m not Alice in Wonderland, but the poor stepsister.”
There it was again. Sister. The heavy tone to her voice gave her away. Even though she tried to make light of the situation, she was upset.
“You’ve been bulldozed by our parents and got a job offer in the same day.”
Her head nodded up and down. “And don’t forget Boone Jameson.”
Lucas didn’t miss the color in her cheeks when she said his uncle’s name. Not that her reaction should have surprised him any. Boone’s reputation with horses was only preceded by his reputation with women. But he didn’t want to believe that Viv would be drawn into Boone’s façade.
“Forget about that for a minute. Do you want to work for me?” He stared into her eyes, which appeared jade in the morning light, unlike in the diner’s glow, where the darker hue ebbed out the green.
“I want the job,” she said, and smiled.
The clouds parted.
“But I’m not sure about the living arrangements. I need to talk to Father before I make that decision.”
“Good.” He pushed back in the chair and stood up, hoping the disappointment didn’t show on his face. He wanted her close, to be physically near her. He wanted to share her address, but he didn’t want to jeopardize anything in case there was still a chance she’d leave this place behind. “You can let me know what you decide after you talk to the newlyweds.”
After what he’d witnessed yesterday between Viv and her father, he knew the odds were in his favor.
Viv pulled her knees into her chest. Her bare feet were on the edge of the chair. Bright purple polish painted her toes, making Lucas look twice. Unpredictable. He swallowed, looked up at her, and wondered what other little secrets she kept to herself.
“You didn’t want your breakfast?” she said as she picked a marshmallow out of the bowl with her fingers and tossed it into her mouth.
Those lips.
“No thanks.” He had to get out of there before she knew this wasn’t about business— nothing professional, purely personal.
He got to the door and pulled the handle just as it swung open from the other direction.
“Well, look who’s here,” Lucas said as he folded his arms over his chest and stared at the man. His heart rumbled like thunder in his chest, hoping Viv would ask him to stay, hoping she would need him.
Eli McIntyre stood in the doorway.
Chapter 5
On a hill behind the McIntyres’ ranch, Boone sat in the saddle on the back of a tall bay gelding. The sun was in his eyes, and he pulled the brim of his straw hat down to get a better view as he watched Eli’s truck pull into the drive.
The weather had him reaching for his bandanna and wiping his neck. Stretching for his bottle of water in the saddlebag behind him, he took a drink, put the lid back on, and watched for fireworks. Vivien brought her own spark, and after last night’s conversation, he knew she was after answers and didn’t care who she burned to get them.
Eli got out of the truck alone. Amanda must’ve stayed back at her house to give her new husband time with his daughter. From what Boone understood about his new employer, Eli McIntyre was few in words and large in presence, and he wasn’t sure the man would offer his daughter any explanation.
Boone had known hardheaded cowboys like Eli. Born with old souls and molded from the dirt they were raised in. Watered by the sweat of their brow, traditions weren’t easily broken. Words and paper were a waste of time; the deal was sealed with a handshake and hard work. They could tell a good horse from a nag by the feel of the animal’s back, and every horse was for sale if the right offer came along.
They were the kind of men you wanted on your side in a gunfight and someone you didn’t want to meet on a dead-end road if you were in the wrong. Few women had the heart to love them—men who buried emotions and whose opinion was gospel truth.
So, what was Amanda thinking?
The horse danced beneath Boone, waiting for the next cue, but he didn’t know which way to go. Did he ride away and keep his distance? There was no need to worry about Amanda. His sister was strong, could handle herself in a corral of wild mustangs, so he knew if Eli McIntyre could be tamed, she was the woman to do it.
What happened between Viv and her father wasn’t any of his business. He had a horse to train. The smartest thing to do would be to turn this pony around and head west.
Something about Viv called to him. Sunset hair falling behind a mountainside of blue-green eyes, cheekbone ridges, and lips fuller than a running stream beckoned to him.
He cussed as the horse walked on towards the house; he had nothing to gain by getting involved. He didn’t know much about Vivien McIntyre, but she seemed like a capable woman, and after the way he treated her last night, he was probably the last person she wanted to see. Lucas’s black Camaro was still parked in front of the house, which made Boone’s jealous bone jab him in the gut and rethink his decision, prodding him to ride in, scoop Viv up, and head off into the hills. She would kick and scream the whole way and insist on her own horse.
On second thought, Viv could handle herself.
As Boone approached the driveway, he found Lucas standing in the doorway, talking to Eli. Boone tipped his hat as he rode by, headed to the stalls. Three was a crowd, and Boone preferred the quiet conversation of horses.
“I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” Eli called to his new employee and brother-in-law.
Boone saw Lucas nod his head at him. His relationship with his nephew was never more than what was required by Amanda. Lucas was a cocky rich kid, and maybe that wasn’t fair, because he wasn’t sure he ever gave him a chance. With only a few years between them and Lucas’s father’s money, Boone struggled to not covet Lucas’s life.
Boone’s father, Owen Jameson, was strict, but fair. A blue collar and forty hours a week kept food on the table and bought school clothes, but for a boy born with boots on his feet and reins in his hands, necessity was never enough. Amanda married Jason Royal and became a millionaire’s wife in minutes. Lucas was raised with eve
ry advantage possible, but what Boone envied most were the horses and equestrian facilities owned by the Royals.
Amanda knew her little brother’s desire and had him flown into Utah every summer. That was where he learned about cutting horses. Jason competed in cutting events and employed full-time trainers. When his own son didn’t seem interested, Jason grabbed on to Boone’s fascination and pulled him into his world.
Headed to the barn, Boone almost missed Viv as she came to the doorway. He slowed the horse’s pace and watched. Her hair piled on her head, like a crown of amber curls, and her old T-shirt only made him want her more. She saw him, and he wondered if what he read in her eyes was what he pretended she had written. He came to Utah searching for refuge and redemption; the last thing he expected was to be held captive by a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours.
He swung down from the saddle and tied the reins to the hitching post. He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, then pushed the hat down on his head again. It was better to remember how and why he was in Lewiston. A Texas beauty, all five feet eight inches and one hundred twenty pounds of her, stole more from him than he wanted to admit, and he wasn’t about to be wrangled in by another beautiful woman—not even Vivien McIntyre.
* * *
Vivien exhaled. The morning sun cast Boone Jameson in the limelight as he rode away. Like the wanted man in a western movie, he made “outlaw” look so good. His moral compass, pointing anywhere but heaven-bound, should’ve been enough to keep her from watching him as he faded from view. But temptation never looked so good in tight jeans and a cowboy hat.
“Vivien,” her father said.
“Yes,” she answered. Her father and Lucas stared at her like they’d heard the thoughts in her head as she watched Boone.
“I’ll call you later,” Lucas said, touching her elbow as he walked away.
“Okay,” Viv said, glad she had his offer in her back pocket. Knowing she had the chance to train on her own was like a shield of metal in her defense.
