The Ranch Hand (8 page)

Chapter Five

The sky the next morning was clear and crisp, without a hint of cloud. The sun was out, so bright off the snowfall that they both had to wear sunglasses. Harlan was enjoying Carol’s company, though neither of them had spoken much so far. She seemed satisfied while enjoying the quiet, beautiful scenery around them as they rode together. He was content to simply be with her. The fact that he could do so outdoors, with the smell of evergreens all around them, the quiet, the stunning Colorado beauty…well, he reckoned that made him a fortunate man. For once in his life at least, a very lucky man.

The surprise storm had dumped over a foot of snow yesterday. In the aftermath, it clung to the tree branches and piled in drifts against the fence posts. Their horses had no problems with the snow, plowing through almost indifferently after a few curious snorts at the cold white ground cover. Harlan kept them to the trails he knew best, away from the places where difficult ground might turn a horse’s ankle.

A beautiful day, and yet a part of him was not at ease.

This would never work, he thought, and he glanced at Carol again, a cold and heavy weight seemed to be pressing down on his chest. The rest of his contentedness began to vanish like frost in the sunlight. He clenched his teeth. What had he been thinking?

It would be easy to say he’d been thinking with his cock. Giving himself over to primal needs. But he knew different. He’d been thinking with something deeper inside him, truer, something that needed her for a whole slew of reasons besides that gorgeous face and stunning body.

So what was he afraid of? He frowned, not liking the question. He looked at her again, wanting to touch her, catch some kind of comfort that she was still here beside him, and he wasn’t simply imagining everything that had happened to them since yesterday. All the changes. The complications. If he touched her, that would set his thoughts to rights, ease his mind…

He kept his hands on the reins and forced his attention back to the ride. Live in the moment. Forget the complications. Dwelling on the bad would only tangle him up, snare him like lasso around a running calf. He wanted her to be happy. Hell,
he
wanted to be happy, and this was a fine day for it. Bright and cold, but without a cutting wind. He could even smell the cold. The scent of evergreens. The earth. His horse and the leather, and from time to time, a hint of Carol’s perfume.

They continued in easy silence for the first half of the circuit around the ranch’s fence line, and he managed to focus on the task at hand. Fortunately, the storm damage had been minimal. When he spotted a place where the fence had been damaged—by yesterday’s wind or fallen branches overloaded with snow—he would climb out of the saddle and tie a bright red piece of plastic strip to the post. The red plastic marked the place for easy finding when he returned to repair it with tools and supplies in either the truck or the ranch’s ATV. It was good work though. Work he enjoyed. Outside. Working with his hands. Surrounded by all of this…the words
majestic beauty
might sound like overkill to someone not standing in the shadow of the Rockies, but he thought they applied well enough.

He allowed himself a wry smile at his thoughts. Look at him now, a little taste of sweetness between the sheets yesterday and pretty soon he’d be spraying poetry like water from a dog-chewed garden hose.

Carol reined in. She sat very still in the saddle, back straight, staring off at Snowbrook Ranch in the distance, below them as the land gently sloped away from the foothills. “I’ll miss this place.”

Those words made him tense up again, shattering any hope of the peace from his worries he’d been hunting for. Pike sensed his tension and tossed her mane and snorted. He felt the scowl gathering on his face and forced it away, shifting into an easy smile. Despite the power of their lovemaking yesterday and the intense connection they’d shared, this remained treacherous ground. He didn’t want to misstep and break an ankle. Or worse.

“You talk as if you’ll never be back,” he replied, keeping his tone nonchalant.

“It’ll never be mine again.” She shrugged. “It always felt like my place. An entire world, just for me to explore. I loved growing up here. So many good memories.”

“So you make new memories. At your new place.” All the same, thinking of her gone made him cold. He’d been weak yesterday. He’d been unable to watch her walk away. She’d been right after all. He
was
a selfish bastard. He’d been keeping himself in check for so long that when he’d lost control, he’d been willing to do anything to have a few more minutes with her. Worse, he didn’t regret an instant of it.

“You’re right,” she said. “Of course you’re right. But it seems so unreal to me right now. My ranch.” She grabbed the sides of her head. “All the things I still have to do. Oh my God, you have no idea—”

“I think I have some bit of an idea,” he said, drawling out the words with a wry smirk.

She glanced at him and a hint of a blush reddened her cheeks. “Of course you do. Not many other people would understand though.” She readjusted her cowgirl hat, knocked askew when she’d grabbed her head. “And…us. Together. I think that might seem the most unreal.”

“It felt real.”

“It did…and it didn’t. Am I making any sense?”

“No more than usual,” he quipped with a grin, but he still felt colder than snow inside, the feeling sinking through him from his chest to his guts.

She didn’t grin back, though. “Things feel too good to be true.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Maybe that feeling
is
a bad thing. I feel like my life has been so charmed that someday the universe will realize how good I have it and snatch it all away. Because I don’t think I deserve it sometimes…”

He nudged his horse closer to her, reached out and took her hand in his, the coldness inside him fading as concern for her replaced it. Their gloves kept them from skin to skin contact, but he gave a squeeze anyway, trying to reassure her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her, which was a tricky prospect from the saddle of a different horse. She was being too hard on herself. Her life hadn’t been as charmed as she’d claimed. Her parents killed in a car crash that she’d miraculously survived. That must hurt her, shadowed her, even if she didn’t show anyone her pain. And here she was, worried she had it better than everyone else.

“Maybe you do have it good,” he said, slowly, struggling to pick the right words. He’d never had a silver tongue, and he desperately didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Better than some. Worse than others. If you worry too much about losing it, you’ll never be able to enjoy what you have. One thing I learned, working out here, is enjoy what you have.”

She smiled, then leaned toward him from her saddle, tilting her head for a kiss. He was more than happy to oblige. The smell of her perfume brought back memories of their lovemaking. Carol, naked, her mouth open in passion and those delicious sounds slipping out of past her lips, and her eyes closed as they both worked to lose themselves in each other…and succeeded.

Carol pulled away after the kiss, still holding his gaze, her expression serious. “You’re surprisingly wise for someone so handsome, Mr. Cowboy. I’m impressed.”

He pushed his hat back on his head. “Thank you, ma’am.” He coughed into his hand and regarded her gravely. “Hear how polite I am? Politeness should be rewarded. Kisses will do.” His grin grew wicked. “For a start.”

She leaned toward him, her eyes full of amusement, and kissed him.

“And a man who wears a cowboy hat also deserves a kiss,” he said. “A well known fact among decent folk.”

She kissed him again. “Getting a little desperate, are we? I wear a cowgirl hat, and it never earned me anything but some protection from the sun.”

“When I get you back, I’ll give you all the kisses a cowgirl could want. And more besides.”

“Guess you forgot how greedy I am. Hope you’re up to it, cowboy.”

“More than looking forward to the challenge, cowgirl.”

They rode on, again with that easy quiet between them like a still water in a mountain lake. Even their horses got along. No biting or stamping. They finished riding the fence a little past midday. The sun was still high in the sky, throwing only short shadows on the ground, the day still bright and cold. After they checked on the herd again, they ate lunch in the saddle while watching the cattle nose around in the snow for covered grass.

“Where’d you learn to ride?” she asked him between huge bites of a steak sandwich.

“My pa. He used to do rodeos.” He chuckled and pushed his hat back. “Not professionally. Just for fun. Also, trick roping, the Texas Skip and the like. Ma wouldn’t let him ride the bulls or broncos, but I’m not sure he minded much, to tell the truth. That’s a young man’s show.”

She cocked her head and regarded him with interest. “Did you ever ride rodeo?”

“Me? No. I never liked the crowds.”

“You’re shy?”

“I wouldn’t tell it that way. I don’t relish attention much, is all. But me and my dad, we used to trail ride mostly.”

“Is that where you got your love of the outdoors?”

He nodded. Pike nickered, and he patted her neck and slipped her a carrot from the saddlebag.

Carol looked around at the rolling field and the trees. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the steam of her breath clouding around her. “There’s nothing better, is there?”

“Not much.” He met looked at her. She seemed to feel his stare and met his gaze. He kept his words even. “A few things rank up there, though.”

“That right?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Yep. All those things involve you. Some of them involve nakedness. Well, I reckon you can keep wearing that cowgirl hat if you like, but everything else needs to be naked. But mostly I agree.”

“I could get used to how you think, cowboy.” A chiming musical tone sounded. She pulled out her cell phone and glanced at the number. “Darn. Have to take this. Give me a minute?”

He nodded. She answered her cell, but cursed after a moment and said into the phone, “Hold on, Mr. Comstock, the reception’s spotty, let me get clear of these trees.”

She veered off to a clearing and rode around in a wide circle, trying to get better reception. Harlan watched the cattle, leaning on the saddle horn and frowning when he heard Carol’s voice rise in alarm, then fall with disappointment. He glanced at her, wondering what was wrong. She pressed the cell phone tightly to one ear, her head tilted, and covered her other ear to better hear with the spotty reception. The expression on her face was both angry and dismayed as she stared at the ground and listened to what could only be bad news.

She finally ended the call with another curse that would’ve done any cattle-driver proud and shoved the cell phone back in her pocket. He waited, not wanting to intrude if she didn’t want to talk about it. He needn’t have worried. She rode straight over to him.

“That was Mr. Comstock up the road. He was driving past my place and saw the storm caused some damage.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “A tree came down on my trailer. He says it looks pretty bad.”

A part of him—a dark, selfish part that he hated, that revolted him—was happy to hear the news, because it meant she’d be forced to stay here with him. He stomped that ungrateful talk down flat. His pa had raised him to be a better man than that, and damned if he’d delight in her misfortune, even if it meant he could have her longer.

“We’ll round up the cattle, get ’em home,” he said. “Then we can head on over to your place and see how bad things are.”

She turned in her saddle to look off toward the land she’d purchased, though there was no way she could see it from here with a ridge slope and tree cover in the way. “No.” She hesitated and glanced at him with worry in her eyes. “Thanks, but I feel as if I should handle this myself.”

“I’d like to help, if you’re willing.”

She smiled at him, but the smile was distracted. He could tell she was already thinking of the damage and how far it would set her back. “You have the herd to look after. They’ll be restless if we pen them up this early. I can handle this.”

Fair enough. He wouldn’t push the issue if she wanted to handle it. All the same though, he wished she’d let him help. She didn’t have to prove anything to him… He paused, considering. Was that was she was trying to do? Show she was independent enough to handle these problems on her own? Maybe she wanted to push back a bit after he’d shown up in his truck, looking to lend her a rescue from the storm. But dammit, he’d been worried, and he cared for her. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t at least offer to lend a hand? And if he truly believed she was in trouble, nothing in hell would stop him from coming to her aid.

“I better get a move on,” she said. She rode close and kissed him. “Make it up to you later.”

“I expect you’ll have to.”

She laughed and rode off, back toward Snowbrook. He watched her until she rode out of sight. It was very quiet with her gone.

* * *

Things had been too good to be true.

She raced the truck up to her place, the tires spitting snow and mud as she turned onto the dirt road to her land.
Her
land. No matter what kind of damage she was looking at, that simple fact would be enough to pull her through. It had to be.

Some of her land had been cleared for pasture, but much of it was still lightly forested, the tree line of evergreens running up in a tapering triangle toward the dirt road. Her trailer sat near a backhoe and bobcat and a large mound of snow-covered dirt. Sure enough, a tree had fallen and crushed part of her trailer. Part of the trunk had split away on impact and landed on her generator.

Crap.

She parked and scrambled out of the truck, but allowed herself a slice of petty spite when she slammed the door as hard as she could. Her boot heels sloshed in the melting snow as she trudged to the tree. The destruction was even worse when viewed up close. An evergreen at least thirty-five feet tall had pretty much obliterated the right side of her trailer, caving in the roof, shattering the windows, and leaving debris and broken boughs on her bed. She peered inside, pushing away the thick boughs of green needles enough to glimpse her bed, which now appeared as if the mattress had slept on by dinosaur. She circled to the generator. A thick branch had bent the frame enough to cave in the control panel and put a serious dent in the fuel tank, though there didn’t seem to be any leaking gasoline. She sighed out a cloud of breath and rubbed her cheeks in dismay. This would cost her time and money. And how in the world had it happened?