The Stolen Suitor (6 page)

He parked in front of the sprawling stone-and-wood ranch house and got out of the car. He wiped his palms nervously on his jeans. The bright pink and red flowers in front of the ranch house emphasized how far away from his own world this place was. Eric vaguely remembered a time when there were flowers in pots in front of their trailer. But after his father went to jail, his mother had worked so many hours, things like that went by the wayside. He himself never saw much point in fixing up their place, and Jeremy always had his head stuck in either a book or his notebook. His brother hardly lived in the real world at all.

Right.
Eric casually strolled up the porch steps to the front door, trying to act like he belonged here. He gave a firm rap on the door.

Trix herself opened it. She looked surprised to see him. “Well… hi, Eric.”

“Trixie.” If Eric had a hat on, he’d take it off, but he didn’t, so he placed his nervous thumbs in his belt loops instead. “The place looks real nice.”

“Oh.” She had her blonde hair back in a ponytail, and she brushed a stray strand of it behind her ear. Trix herself looked wonderful too, though it probably wasn’t the time to say so. She’d always been slim and tan. She had on well-worn working denims and a clean striped tank top in white and gold that brought out the color of her hair. Her brown eyes settled on his warily. “Thanks, but it really doesn’t look like it should. The weeds are gettin’ outta hand, and you don’t even wanna see the stable.”

Eric heard the pitter-patter of footsteps, and a little girl slammed into the back of Trixie’s legs and held on around one thigh. She had hair so blonde it was nearly white, and she looked up at him with big blue eyes.

“Hey, sunshine,” Eric said, without giving it any thought. She was so darn cute, she made him smile.

“This is my daughter, Janie,” Trix said.

Janie didn’t say anything, but her little face transformed into a shy, girlish smile, and she turned her forehead into her mother’s legs, peeking up at Eric almost flirtatiously.

That made him smile harder.

“Is there something I can do for you, Eric?” Trixie asked.

Of course, she probably had a million things to do. He wished again for a hat he could hold. “Yes, ma’am. I saw the job notice you put up on the City Hall bulletin board—” Actually, his ma had seen it and gotten on Eric’s case about it immediately. “—and I was wantin’ to apply for that. For the job.” He swallowed and forced himself to be cool. Eric Crassen didn’t get riled up for nobody.

“Oh.” Trix blinked in surprise. “Well… I’m not sure it’s somethin’ you’d be interested in, Eric. It’s a lot of manual labor—muckin’ out horse stalls, weedin’, mendin’ fences, things like that. It pays just minimum wage.”

“That’s what the ad said. I don’t mind.” He felt a flush of humiliation and hoped it didn’t show on his face. Twenty-five years old and after a job that she’d probably meant for a high-school student.

She looked him over then, probably to judge if he was fit enough, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes widened as she looked down his legs and noticed his package. These jeans did a nice job of showcasing it. When her eyes rose back to his, she looked both flushed and irritated.

“Where else have you worked?” she asked him in a firm tone. She reached down, picked up Janie, and balanced the little girl on one hip.

“I worked two years at the meat-packin’ plant, but I hated it, so I quit,” he said honestly. “I do some paintin’ and construction work for Bob Andrews and his crew from time to time, when they need extras.”

“Ever worked with animals?”

Not living ones
, he wanted to say, thinking of the stench of the meat-packing plant. “Not so much,” he admitted. “But I’d like to.”

Trix looked at Janie and fussed with smoothing her hair. He could tell from the doubtful set of her mouth that Trix was working herself up to telling him no.

“Can you give me a trial?” he asked abruptly. “Maybe a week? If it don’t suit, no hard feelin’s.” When she looked at him, he gave his best butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth smile.

Trixie sighed. “Eric, I can’t have any booze or anythin’ like that on the property.”

The shame that she would even think such a thing made him want to die. “I ain’t drinkin’ these days,” he said quietly, deciding it was true. Or at least he would make it true as long as he was gonna be around Trix Stubben.

“Okay, then,” she said, looking him in the eye. “Can you start the trial week right away? Tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eric said.

CHRIS
pulled into Muddy River Ranch on Saturday morning and parked in the small dirt parking lot near the barn. It was a beautiful spring morning, but it was due to get hot later. He’d worn a new white T-shirt to reflect the sun, along with jeans and his older pair of cowboy boots, but he couldn’t resist adding a jaunty red bandanna around his neck. It looked good against his dark brown hair.

His Jeep was the only car in the lot, and he wondered if he’d be the only one in the class. He’d asked around, and the Muddy River classes had a good reputation. Also, he’d always liked Joshua, even though he was a few years older and Chris didn’t know him all that well.

Now he wondered if Joshua’s business wasn’t being hurt by his and Ben’s openness about their relationship. Clyde’s Corner itself had a small artsy community, but pretty much anything outside of town was strictly Republican territory. Ranching was an old way of life, and it took on change slowly.

There was no one around, so Chris wandered over to the open doors on the big red barn. He heard a low chuckle and should have stopped, but curiosity kept him going.

Inside the barn stood Joshua and Ben. They were flush tight against each other, Joshua’s hands on the ass of Ben’s jeans, and they were kissing. Joshua was wearing a cowboy hat, and the brim of it covered the actual deed, but the body language was unmistakable—and hot.

Chris froze. He knew he should turn around and walk out, but he couldn’t seem to. The sight of two cowboys in a loving clench was too unusual and too fascinating. His heart started to race.

Joshua broke the kiss and looked right at him.

“Sorry,” Chris said guiltily, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll wait outside.”

“Oh, hey, Chris! Glad ya made it!” Ben said, as if nothing had happened. He gave Joshua a last peck, picked up his own hat from a bale of hay, and jogged over to Chris. “Got some paperwork you need to fill out. First class and all.” He picked up a clipboard with paper on it from a nail on the wall.

“Okay, sure.”

There was the sound of tires coming down the driveway.

“You can go ’n’ sit outside to fill that out. It’s such a nice day,” Ben said cheerfully. He grabbed more clipboards from the nail and headed out to greet the newcomers.

Chris shouldn’t have worried about Joshua’s lack of business. While he sat out on a nice, flat rock near the pasture fence and filled out the form, four more cars arrived. There was a father and teenage daughter, and a married couple, none of whom he recognized. They probably weren’t from Clyde’s Corner. The town’s young and nerdy assistant librarian, Grace Gillepsie, showed up. She was dressed like she was going to a yoga class. And then a beat-up Ford hatchback pulled in, and Chris about swallowed his tongue when Jeremy Crassen got out.

Chris’s hormones and his brain had opposite reactions.
Oh, hell yes! Oh, no!
What was Jeremy doing here? Why would he be taking an adult beginner riding class? And the Muddy Ranch classes weren’t exactly cheap either.

Jeremy, however, didn’t look at Chris. He smiled at Ben, who he’d’ve sworn won the lottery for a truckload of enthusiasm, and it had been dumped there just that morning. Jeremy took the clipboard and boosted himself up to sit on the hood of his car and fill it out.

And Chris had to stop staring.

Their encounter with Mrs. Rollingswell had been weighing on his mind. There’d been something about, possibly, Jeremy being very smart and not being able, maybe, to go to college. Something, possibly, about Jeremy being picked on in school. Something about Jeremy writing a book?

Maybe Chris was joining
A
to
D
and getting all cross-wired about what Mrs. Rollingswell had said. But the thing was, he was pert sure Jeremy
was
picked on in school. He remembered more once he thought about it—like the shy young teen with the lowered head and hair in his eyes. He remembered thinking Eric was trash because his father had gone to prison and his mother was loose. All the guys said so. And maybe they all pushed that notion that because Eric was so good-looking, and it was a way to tear down the competition. Chris remembered feeling sorry for Eric’s little brother, coming from a home like that. But he’d never reached out or even said hello.

He felt ashamed of that now.

That day in the Merc, Jeremy had gotten quiet as Mrs. Rollingswell talked. He’d looked down at the floor and let the hair fall into his eyes, like he wanted to disappear. That was the Jeremy Chris remembered from high school, not the confident one who’d flirted with him in the cream aisle. And it made Chris feel kinda shitty for avoiding him and not being nicer.

Chris had never had it bad growing up. Still, he hadn’t been one of the ranching crowd. His dad was in retail, after all. So he hung out with the rancher kids, but there was always a feeling of not quite being as good. Then at college in Denver, he was shocked to find himself considered a real hick from Hicksville. It had taken him a whole year to find his footing there. So he knew what it was like to be an outsider.

Fuck it.

He stood, dusted off his jeans, and strolled over to Jeremy’s car. “Hey, Jeremy,” Chris said, hugging the clipboard to his chest.

“Oh! Hey!” Jeremy tucked the long strands of that shining mahogany hair behind his ears and gave Chris an amazing smile. It wasn’t surprise. It was more like… happiness—happy that Chris had come up to talk to him.

That smile twisted Chris’s insides a little, so he looked down, but then he noticed Jeremy’s fingers. They were long and skinny and held the pen over the paper as if they were used to being there. The parts he’d filled in had neat block letters, the sort of masculine print Chris had always admired but had never been able to reproduce.

He looked up and put on a forced smile. “What made you decide to take a riding class?”

“Oh, you know, just figured I should. I’m hoping to move away sometime soon, and this might be my last chance.”

“Ah.” Chris wondered where Jeremy would go. Off to college after all? Or somewhere else? He didn’t ask.

“Guess you don’t appreciate something that’s just been there your whole life. Not until you’re about to leave it,” Jeremy said.

His voice was soft but rich, and his words surprisingly philosophical. Chris looked into Jeremy’s eyes and felt a thud in his chest. He really did have a pretty face. And those eyes were like a warm bath of sweet honey. No doubt, Jeremy rang his bells. If things were different….

They’re not, though
.

The roar of a loud muffler broke his chain of thought. A souped-up old Camaro with rust spots on the sides pulled up and parked next to Jeremy’s car.

“Hey, bro!” Eric said as he got out of the car.

Jeremy did not look happy to see Eric. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “What are
you
doing here?”

“You know why.” Eric glanced uneasily at Chris. “I, um, started workin’ at Big Basin this past week, and I figured I could use some lessons.”

“You’re working at Big Basin?” Chris asked, surprised. He knew Trix had put up a notice for a new ranch hand, but she hadn’t mentioned she’d hired anyone, much less Eric Crassen. Then again, he hadn’t spoken to her since last Sunday.

Eric gave Chris a lazy grin. “Yup. Sure am.”

Chris started to ask Eric why he’d go to the trouble and expense of taking riding lessons for a job he’d just started, and a low-paying one at that. But he decided he should rightly discuss what Eric was doing at Big Basin with Trix before opening his mouth. Still, he wasn’t happy about it.

“But, Eric,” Jeremy said quietly. “This class isn’t cheap.”

Eric shrugged. “Ma had some money put by.”

“Probably for rent!” Jeremy sounded worried.

“Nah, it wasn’t. It was rainy-day money. She told me to take it.” His eyes flickered uneasily to Chris again, even though Chris was trying to pretend he wasn’t overhearing this family conversation and wasn’t aware of how different the Crassens’ circumstances were from his own. “She said it was a good investment.”

Jeremy shook his head.

“Hey, y’all, listen up!” Ben said loudly to get the group’s attention. “Welcome to the first week of the adult beginnin’ ridin’ class at Muddy River Ranch! I’m Ben, and in the corral with the horses is Joshua—” Joshua tipped his hat. “—and Charlie.” The older cowboy tipped his hat too. “Today for the first hour, Joshua and Charlie are gonna show y’all some stuff about horses and talk about ridin’ posture and stuff like ‘at. The second hour, we’ll take you on a gentle ride around the ranch and stop for a break at the river. Okay?”

Everyone agreed it sounded good, and Ben rubbed his hands together like he was just full of energy and couldn’t contain it. “Well, that’s just fine! Now everyone spread out along the corral fence right here and we’ll get started.”

JEREMY
had been right all along: He and horses were not a combination God ever intended to go together.

It was hard to believe he was twenty years old, grew up in Montana, and had never been on the back of a horse until today, but it was true. They’d had trail-riding excursions during high school, but they weren’t cheap, so Jeremy hadn’t gone.

He was currently fourth in the long line of riders plodding along a trail in the open woods. He tried to remember everything Joshua had told them to do—keep the reins soft, don’t kick the horse’s flank with your heels, keep your spine straight, and your shoulders relaxed and down. But he felt so
fucking high up
. And he could picture a dozen catastrophes without even trying.