Riding for Love (A Western Romance) (7 page)

Chapter 6

Eve sat at her desk and read over the list of names for the upcoming beginner’s riding group. With mixed emotions about novice riders, she kept the size small for individual attention. All ten in this group had booked to stay in the cabins. Sometimes the lessons were a mix of locals and guests from as far away as Chicago. The inexperienced riders, most never having been on a horse, left as competent riders. Their accomplishments always made her glow inside.

The downside of the group was with the few who came to lose their fear of horses. Sometimes getting some of them to touch a horse was a challenge. They were the ones, though, who left the most satisfied and spoke of their success to others. Word of mouth was the best advertisement and worked in her favor. This was the sixth week in a row they were booked solid.

If it weren’t for the accidents, things would be perfect. At least no one had been hurt, so far. She and Tom had been trying to figure out why anyone would want to harm her or ruin her business. She couldn’t think of any enemies. They’d ruled out customers as the culprits, because it didn’t matter who was here or when they left, the incidents continued. Most of her employees had worked at the ranch for several years. Not counting her father, who still sat in prison, and her lame cousin, Snook, she didn’t have any family left. She’d spent many sleepless nights trying to get a handle on the situation and praying no one would be injured.

On the longest nights, thoughts of Denton being responsible crept into her mind. After all, the problems seemed to start when he came back into town. But as fearful of horses as he’d been in his youth, she couldn’t imagine him coming anywhere near the barn to cut a bridle, or spray water on hay turning it moldy and inedible to the horses. Besides, no one had seen Denton on her property. But, then again, no one else had been spotted and the incidents kept happening.

She took a sip of soda, and went over the client list more carefully. A honeymoon couple, a couple in their forties, a father and his teenage son, two women in their late twenties, brothers from Milwaukee and . . .

Spitting out a mouthful of cola, she pushed up from her chair, letting the back slam against the bookcases behind her desk. She ran from her office, through the back door and, ignoring the porch steps, jumped off the side, then dashed out to the barn, waving the list of customers at Tom.

“Did you go over the client list for this week?” she yelled.

He placed the rope he’d unraveled over his arm and took the paper from Eve. Without batting an eye, he handed it back. “Looks like we’re full again. What’s the problem?”

Eve gritted her teeth and stomped her foot. “What’s the problem? Didn’t you see the last name?”

“Yep. Mr. Johanson is joining us for the next two weeks.” He set the rope on the stall wall, picked up another, and proceeded to straighten it.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She grabbed the rope from his hands and tossed it on the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“None of my business who comes here. He paid his money like everyone else.”

Eve stomped her foot again and slammed her hands at her waist. “And just how did he manage to do that without my knowledge, Mr. Durham?”

“How the hell should I know? I don’t handle reservations.” Tom turned his back on Eve and picked the rope up from the floor. “Maybe you should ask your manager.”

“Tom, you
are
my manager,” Eve said, letting out a frustrated groan.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so riled up.”

“You know damn well the man’s petrified of horses. Don’t you remember the time our 4-H club had a trail ride and he fell and broke his collarbone? Rose told me he also fell from one when he was eight and broke his arm. Since then he couldn’t even bring himself to pet one,” Eve yelled. “He’ll have a heart attack the first time he goes near a horse. We’ll have a lawsuit and lose the farm for sure.”

Tom chuckled. “Seems you’re pretty worried about the man’s safety, considering you’ve washed your hands of him. Seems like it shouldn’t matter if he fell off and landed on his head.” Tom took Eve by the shoulders and pressed her onto a bale of straw. “Relax, he’ll be all right. Besides, landing on his head might knock some sense into him.”

“What do you mean?”

Tom drew a piece of straw from the bale, pointed the narrow stalk at Eve then put it between his teeth. “Seems to me that any guy that’s as afraid of horses as he is, yet is willing to risk life and limb to be near a woman, needs to have some sense knocked into him. Hell, I might knock him off the horse myself, just to help him along.”

Eve placed her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands. “I don’t understand why he’s doing this to himself.”

“Don’t you?” Tom chewed on the straw for a moment. “Think about it a bit.”

“Well, as I’m dropping into bed tonight I’ll give it a few second’s thought,” she answered sarcastically. “What I don’t understand is how he managed to get reservations in the short time he’s been home, considering the fact I knew we were booked these two weeks.” She looked pointedly at Tom.

He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened,” he mumbled.

“Did you say something?”

“Nope. Thinkin’ out loud about what needs to be done before the next dudes start arriving.” He limped to the barn door. “Do you think maybe he’s coming out here to prove something to you?” he called over his shoulder.

“He doesn’t have to kill himself in the process,” she muttered to her foreman’s back, following him out the door. Guilt washed over her about the returned notes and flowers and the number of times she’d hung up on him or ignored his messages.

Tom leaned against the barn door as Eve stalked off to the house, waving the list of customers in the air, probably cussing him out. He couldn’t hide his smile if he tried. A riled-up Eve was a sight to behold, and she sure had her pants tucked too tight into her boots right now.

His smile slipped. There’d be hell to pay if she ever found out what he’d done to get Denton registered. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake, but the guy acted so gol-darned calf-whipped he couldn’t refuse his plea for help the night they’d met at Rose’s.

It was an understatement at Denton’s shock to walk in on his mother having supper with a man. Tom guessed Dent didn’t think about his mother that way. Hell, whoever did? When Rose introduced him as Eve’s ranch manager, Tom thought he heard the wheels grinding in the boy’s head. It didn’t take the man long to get Tom alone and ask for advice. At Denton’s question about why Tom was at his mother’s house, he made up a story about them working on a project for the nursing home Rose volunteered at.

Tom nearly choked, trying to hold back his laughter when he suggested Denton take riding lessons. The man turned pale, broke out in a sweat, dropped to the porch steps, hung his head in his hands and, to Tom’s amazement, said “yes.”

Tom called in a favor to a friend who had signed up his grandsons for the two-week session. The first year Eve opened the ranch, Steve was one of the first customers to arrive and came back every year bringing new people.

Tom explained the situation between Eve and Dent, playing into Steve’s romantic side. He agreed to send his grandsons another time, at a reduced rate, of course. Tom would make up the difference.

Little did Eve know her entire crew was in on the situation. Not the details, of course, only that an old flame of Eve’s needed to take lessons this summer. One employee changed the records, while another rearranged cabin assignments and made sure Eve “misplaced” the list until closer to Denton’s arrival.

Eve was angry now, and he thought it best she cool off. He didn’t worry about her treatment of Denton. Being a professional, she would treat him like she did any other customer.

Tom took off his sweat-stained cowboy hat and swiped a forearm across his brow. He visualized her reaction if she ever found out what he’d done. And when she learned Denton had signed up for
private
lessons with her, man, horse apples were going to fly. One way or the other, the next few weeks were bound to be interesting.

Eve viewed the scene from her office window as cars pulled into the circular driveway and available parking spots. Usually she joined her employees outside greeting her customers, guiding them to registration, showing them to their cabins. Today she held back waiting until Dent arrived and was safely in his cabin. A cowardly thing to do, but she needed to save her nerves for the coming weeks. Where the hell was he?

“C’mon, chicken.” Tom interrupted her thoughts as he came into the room. “You can’t hide out here. Everyone is waiting to meet you. They need a happy host.”

Eve groaned and stepped away from the window. “I know, I know. How do they seem? Any nervous ones?”

“A whole lot better than you,” Tom said, sitting on the edge of her desk. “For someone who professes being over Denton Johanson, you’re sure nervous. Go put on your happy mask and get out there. When Dent arrives, I’m sure he won’t bite.”

Tom stood, and Eve slipped her arm through his. “Well, let’s get this over with. Tonight is our Friday night barn dance, so we have to make sure everyone is here and knows the rules. By the time they’re settled and we have our introduction meeting and supper, it’ll be time for them to get ready for the dance. I probably won’t even have time to talk to Dent.”

“What time does the band show up?”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s three now, so about four hours from now.” She smiled up at Tom as they strolled out the front door. “How’s this?”

“Nice try, Eve. Now make sure the smile reaches your eyes.”

The first couple Eve saw when she walked down the driveway toward the lodge was in their late forties. The man, balding and with a small pot-belly, had his arm around his wife’s shoulders who, at nearly the same height, would need to gain at least fifty pounds to match her husband. He put her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her face serene. She opened her eyes when Eve approached.

“Hello. Welcome to Tamarack Hills. I’m Eve Dayton, owner.”

The man reached out and grabbed Eve’s outstretched hand. “Well, hi there, little lady. Pleased to meet you,” he said in strong Texan voice. “I’m Richard Huber and this here’s my wife, Joanne. This sure is a right pretty place.”

Before Eve opened her mouth, he went on. “We sure are looking forward to learning to ride. We’ve been talking about this for years, haven’t we, honey-bunch? We just celebrated our thirtieth wedding anniversary and decided before the years piled up anymore, not to mention the pounds,” he added patting his stomach, “we’d better start doing all the things we’ve talked about doing. Right, honey-bunch?”

Eve couldn’t help but smile at the man’s exuberance. His obvious love for life and his wife was contagious. She doubted, though, whether honey-bunch ever answered his questions.

“I’ll have one of our crew take you to your cabin, Mr. and Mrs. Huber.”

“Oh, please, call us Joanne and Rich.”

“All right. Please meet in the Tamarack Lodge at five this evening. We’ll have an orientation and supper. Tonight is our country dance night.”

“Did you hear that, hon? A country dance. Maybe we’ll learn to line dance.” Rich guided his wife to their car. “Why, that’s one of the things on our bucket list. Isn’t this great?”

Grinning, Eve headed toward another couple, and heard Rich say, “Hope we have time to go into town while we’re here. Hey, honey-bunch, we have two hours until the meeting. Guess what we can do to fill the time? Wink, wink.”

“This is going to be an interesting week,” she said to herself as she approached the next couple. Their arms were wrapped around each other’s waist, and they were gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Ah, the honeymooners,” she murmured, checking her clipboard, making sure she’d assigned them to the cabin furthest away from the others and the only one with a king bed. “Wonder how much riding they’ll get done this week.” She chuckled at her own humor. “Plenty, I imagine, and not all on a horse.” A pang of envy hit her in the stomach.

As she talked with the young couple, a man got out of a car and leaned into the open window, talking to someone inside. After a few moments, the man stood up and went to the trunk. The other car door opened and a teenage boy stalked out. He sneered at the man and slammed the door. The young man resembled the older, only strung out, as if his body parts hadn’t decided which one should grow first and in which direction. Must be the father and son. Things didn’t seem so good in fatherland. She made a mental note to pair the younger man up with Dennis, who would be graduating from college in counseling and spent many hours working with teenagers.

A car backfiring drew Eve’s attention to a late-nineties compact pulling into the yard. The driver stepped out. Eve blinked, not sure which was redder, the car or the woman’s hair. When another woman exited, Eve noticed the similarities. Sisters? She didn’t remember any sisters registering. Tall, at least four inches taller than Eve’s five feet seven, they both had figures Eve thought belonged in magazines and gave men erotic dreams. She refrained from pulling her open blouse together to cover her tank top. Sisters who model? Were the large, round breasts real?

Eve stepped forward and took the redhead’s hand. “Hi, ladies. Welcome to Tamarack Hills.”

“I’m Jackie Nelson and this is my cousin, Sophie,” she said, flashing a hand toward a woman with dark brown, waist-length hair swept back in a headband. Where the redhead was dressed in a flashy western-style shirt, short denim skirt, and red cowboy boots that somehow didn’t clash with the car or her hair, Sophie wore a pair of khaki shorts, light blue T-shirt, and sandals.

Sophie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Oh, Jackie, smell the pine trees and the horses. Listen to those birds. What a change from Chicago.” She opened her eyes and smiled, making her lovely face radiant. “Eve, I just know I’m going to have a wonderful time here. I’m so looking forward to learning to ride and relax. Right, Jackie?”

Other books

Finding Home by Lois Greiman
In the Name of Love by Smith, Patrick
All or Nothing by S Michaels
Da Silva's Mistress by Tina Duncan