Authors: R.C. Ryan
This was a puzzle. One he couldn’t seem to put together neatly.
He swore and turned away from the window.
She was like a pretty little hummingbird, flitting from flower to flower, yet never landing. And tomorrow, she would be gone from his life, as quickly as she’d come.
Tomorrow he would drive Sierra to Paintbrush to rent a fresh car for the drive to Casper, after which he’d have a lifetime to contemplate all the mysteries of life and whether or not he should have followed up her innocent kiss with one of his own.
The truth was, he wasn’t at all certain how to behave around an irrepressible free spirit who happened to have the face of an angel and the body of a temptress. And that was why he’d backed away from what she seemed to be freely offering. Whether it was a kiss, or much more, it went against his code of honor to take from someone who wasn’t in complete control of her situation.
She had just come off a tough climb from the Tetons during a savage storm. And something she’d found in her rental car had frightened her. What she needed was a haven. A good night’s sleep, and then she could get on with her freewheeling lifestyle.
It was a waste of time thinking about what might be. In the morning she’d be gone, never to be seen again.
What he needed was to put her out of his mind, and the best way he could think of would be to engage in some good, old-fashioned ranch chores first thing in the morning.
There was nothing quite like mucking out a few dozen stalls and loading a mountain of dung into a honey wagon to bring him back down to earth with a thud.
He shucked his jeans and showered before climbing into bed, hoping to find some peace of mind in sleep.
Instead he spent a long, miserable night thinking about the beautiful angel with a broken wing who’d fallen from the sky and landed smack in the middle of his orderly life.
S
ierra dragged her heavy gear down the stairs and left it beside the closed kitchen door.
She tried to ignore the sinking feeling at having to leave so soon. It would have been interesting to witness the day-to-day operation of a real working ranch and to get to spend more time getting to know this fascinating family.
This life couldn’t have seemed more alien to her if she’d just landed here from another planet. The people, the countryside, the lifestyle, were so different from anything she’d ever experienced. She itched to capture them through the lens of her camera.
Especially Josh. He was, in her mind, the epitome of a real Western cowboy, with that tall, lanky frame, that rugged, handsome face, and those piercing dark eyes that could frost over with a single look or, in a blink, crinkle with laughter.
Who was she kidding? He was the reason she was so
reluctant to leave. She wanted to get to know him better. Not just the fearless hiker who had appeared on the mountainside in a snowstorm, but the real Josh Conway, the mysterious, enigmatic rancher who could make her heart trip over itself with nothing more than a smile.
From the kitchen came a chorus of voices, male and female, old and young. She found herself amused at the snippets of conversation she could make out.
An early storm somewhere.
A road washed out in the vicinity.
A leak in the barn roof.
An entire herd of cattle stranded in snow up in the hills.
It was enough to make her glad she wasn’t responsible for running things around here. Wasn’t there any good news to share?
She pushed open the door and the voices went silent for just a moment, as though they’d all forgotten about the stranger in their home. Then, just as quickly, they were all speaking at once.
“’Morning, sweetheart.”
This from Josh’s grandfather.
She shot him a dazzling smile. “’Morning, Big Jim.” As soon as she spoke his name, her gaze flew to Josh’s face, and she could see the laughter lurking in his eyes. Just seeing that sexy grin at their private little joke had her heart rate speeding up.
“How’d you sleep, honey?”
This from the woman Josh had described as a surrogate mother.
“Like a baby, Phoebe, thanks to your warm hospitality.”
“I’m glad.”
“Coffee?” Josh indicated a tray of mugs on the kitchen counter.
“Thanks.” She helped herself to a mug of steaming coffee and breathed it in before taking a sip. “Umm. That’s heavenly.”
“Fresh-ground.” Cole’s voice rang with pride. “Half the pleasure’s in the smell of those beans grinding.”
“I agree.” Sierra smiled up at him. “That’s the first thing I noticed when I walked in. That and the wonderful smell of corn bread baking.”
That had old Ela grinning. “I’ll save you an extra slice.”
“How’re those aching muscles?” Josh asked. “Did you use the jet tub?”
“I was in it for so long last night I practically slept there. But it was worth every minute. I feel good as new this morning. How about you?”
Before Josh could respond, Quinn walked in from the mudroom and greeted everyone. “Hey, bro. I thought I was an early bird.” He turned to his wife, who was just helping herself to a mug of coffee. “I’m usually the first one up, but this morning Josh beat me to it. Did you sleep at all last night, bro?”
“Some.” Josh snagged a square of corn bread as Ela carried a tray of it to the table.
“I left the barn chores for you while I tended to the horses out in the corral.”
“I noticed.” Josh took his time polishing off the last bite. “You looked like you were having fun in the slush.”
Sierra glanced out the window and was surprised to see sun reflected off a layer of fresh snow.
“Some fun. After we eat, I get to do it all again at Cheyenne’s place.”
“That’s the price you pay for having two ranches. Have you two given any thought to consolidating?”
Cheyenne and Quinn shared a secret smile.
Quinn dropped an arm around her shoulders. “We’ve been talking about it. But it’s Cheyenne’s legacy, and the decision has to be hers.”
“Come and eat,” Phoebe called.
As Sierra took her place beside Josh she shot him a sideways glance. “Isn’t it a bit early for snow?”
“Not in Wyoming.” He accepted a tray of eggs scrambled with onions and red-and-green peppers, and he held it while she spooned some onto her plate. “We’ve been known to have blizzards as late as May or June, and as early as September.”
Sierra arched a brow. “I guess that means you soak up as much summer as possible while you can.”
That had the others smiling.
Big Jim helped himself to a sizzling steak before passing the platter to Quinn. “This storm wasn’t that much of a surprise. We could see those storm clouds blowing in across the Tetons. That usually spells some severe weather.”
“How severe?” Sierra looked across the table.
“I’m afraid you won’t be heading to town anytime soon, sweetheart.” Big Jim smiled at Ela as she handed him a tall glass of milk. “We’ve got enough equipment to clear the roads here on the ranch. And the county will clear the main highways as soon as the snow stops falling. But they may not get to the outlying roads for a couple of days. There are a heap of miles between here and Paintbrush.”
She ducked her head to hide the little jolt of pleasure that shot through her as his words sank in.
“So.” Cole lifted his cup to his lips and drank before
adding, “it looks like you’re stuck here with us for a while. I hope this won’t spoil any plans.”
“I have no plans.” She looked around at the others. “I’m happy to stay. I just hope I won’t be in the way.”
“Oh, trust me, you won’t be.” Phoebe gave a dry laugh. “We always welcome an extra pair of hands to help with the chores.”
“Have you ever mucked a stall?” Cheyenne asked.
Sierra laughed. “The only time I’ve ever seen a stall is when I’ve had to lead a horse from the stable to be saddled before riding. That was in Spain, when I was staying with a school chum whose family owned a vineyard.”
Cheyenne’s eyes lit. “So you ride?”
“Yes. Do you?”
That had all of them laughing.
“If you grow up on a ranch in Wyoming, you know how to sit a horse by the time you can walk. And you can drive a tractor by the time you’re eight or nine years old.”
“You can drive at eight?”
Cheyenne chuckled. “You can’t get a license, but when you’re the only available laborer, you do what you have to.”
Sierra studied her. “Is driving a tractor different from driving a car?”
Cheyenne shrugged. “Not that much. Are you thinking of taking a tractor to town?”
There was another round of laughter.
“I’m not in any hurry to get to town. But if you need someone to lend a hand, I’d like to try.”
“Good girl.” Big Jim polished off the last of his steak and eggs and sat back with a sigh. “I think I’ve got enough fuel now to go full steam ahead for a few hours.”
As he pushed away from the table the others followed suit.
Josh turned to Sierra. “If you’d like to give us a hand in the barn, you can help yourself to boots, gloves, and a parka from the mudroom.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
He shot her a dangerous smile. “I wonder if you’ll feel the same way an hour from now.”
“Careful, cowboy.” She opened the kitchen door and retrieved her camera from her gear before trailing him to the mudroom, where she located a pair of oversize boots, a warm, hooded parka, and a pair of leather gloves. “I’ll remind you that I managed to keep up with you on our hike down the mountain.”
“So you’re not about to wimp out on me now?”
“I’m thinking I ought to be able to handle a few ranch chores without breaking a sweat.”
Josh threw back his head and roared. “Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this.” He held open the door and followed her onto the back porch. “Come along, Ms. Moore.” He led the way toward the first of several barns and outbuildings. “Something tells me it’s going to be fun introducing you to the real world of ranching.”
Sierra and Josh had opted to muck stalls, while Cheyenne and Quinn led the horses from each stall to a fenced pasture out back, where they were turned loose to run.
Afterward Cheyenne and Quinn returned to the barn to fill feed and water troughs.
Through it all they continued trading jokes and teasing insults.
“I think Jake was smart to head out early this morning.”
Quinn lugged a hose across the floor and began filling a water trough.
“Did he take one of the trucks, or one of the ATVs?”
“What’s an ATV?” Sierra asked.
“All-terrain vehicle. They come in handy when we’re heading up into the hills in snow.” Josh paused to lift his wide-brimmed hat and wipe sweat from his forehead.
“That’s what I heard around dawn.” She smiled. “It sounded like someone using a power saw.”
“That’s what you heard.” Josh grinned. “And knowing Jake, he probably circled the house once or twice, just to rouse the household before he headed up into the hills. According to Jake, anyone who isn’t out of bed by five or six in the morning is lazy.”
Sierra laughed out loud. “Lazy? At dawn?”
“Ah, the life of a rancher.” Cheyenne looped an arm through Quinn’s and looked up at him with an intimate smile. “If we ever decide to blow off our chores, I’d be more than happy to sleep until noon.”
“You?” Quinn dropped a kiss on the tip of his wife’s nose. “If you ever sleep that late, I’ll rush you into Paintbrush to have Dr. Walton check to see if you have a fever.”
“Or a pulse,” Josh added.
That had all of them laughing.
Quinn looked at Josh. “Remember the time Phoebe and Pa rushed you to town and had old Doc Walton check you after that fall?”
“From a horse?” Sierra asked.
“From the mountain,” Quinn said matter-of-factly. “With Josh, it was always the mountain.”
Sierra put a hand to her throat. “How far did you fall?”
“I don’t know. It was pretty high.” Josh frowned. “The
fall was bad enough. The hardest part was after I landed. I had to get myself home.”
“Did you drive yourself?”
He laughed. “I was only thirteen. I had to drag myself into the saddle of old Blue and hope he’d get me back before I passed out.”
Quinn took up the narrative. “Phoebe was looking out the kitchen window and saw the horse coming slowly toward the barn. At first she thought it was riderless, because the reins were dangling, but then she caught sight of Josh lying forward in the saddle, holding onto old Blue’s mane. She went flying outside, hollering for Pa to come help. The two of them threw Josh, who was all bloody and not making a whole lot of sense, into a truck and started driving to town. Phoebe still refers to it as the longest drive of her life.”
Josh saw the look of shock on Sierra’s face and tried to keep things light. “According to Phoebe, I was carrying on a very long and confusing conversation with my mother. Old Doc Walton was training his daughter, our current Dr. April Walton, in the intricacies of small-town medicine, and figured she needed to see for herself just how crazy ranchers could be. Together they mopped up a river of blood and managed to stitch me up before they set my broken bones and sent me home, with instructions to Pa and Phoebe to wake me every hour or so because of the concussion I’d suffered.”