The Princess of Coldwater Flats (13 page)

She struggled to her feet and Sammy Jo grabbed hold of her as Bev screeched from the sidelines. “Not yet. You’re not ready.”

“Yes, I am! Yes, I am! You meany!”

“Well, I may be a meany, but you’re not ready to stand on top of a horse while it’s moving. Look at your mom. Does she look happy with the idea?”

Bev’s hand covered her mouth in horror.

“Don’t care!” Emmy shrieked, kicking wildly. Sammy Jo hauled her off the horse and she ran screaming to Bev. Sighing, Sammy Jo looked at the other two. “Who’s next?”

Van shrank back against the rails. If she could have melted into invisibility, it seems she would have. Tess threw Sammy Jo an amused look as Alex sucked her thumb vigorously and frowned down at her toes.

“We can just walk around in a circle,” Sammy Jo encouraged. Alex scuffed her shoe in the dirt and nodded. Sammy Jo grabbed the little girl’s free hand and pulled her to Pokey. Plunking her onto the bareback saddle, Sammy Jo said, “Okay?”

“‘Kay,” the little girl mumbled around her thumb.

Walking Pokey around in a circle, Sammy Jo hazarded a glance at the mothers. Ginny was clearly annoyed that Van wasn’t joining in. Tess beamed with delight. Bev couldn’t decide whether to hug Emmy to her breast or save her silk blouse.

By the time they left, Sammy Jo wondered if it was worth the few dollars the lessons earned her. But then, money was money. And she needed every penny.

“See ya later,” Tess told her as she put the car into gear. “We need to talk.”

“I’m afraid to ask what about.” Sammy Jo waved to the other departing cars.

Tess hooked her thumb in the direction of Cooper’s ranch. “The rumors I’ve heard.”

“He was with Bev on the Fourth of July.”

“Did he really kiss you at the vet’s?” Tess asked, thrilled and scandalized.

“I thought it was a strange place, too,” Sammy Jo answered, deliberately ignoring her friend’s meaning.

“We need to talk!” she repeated fervently.

“Goodbye, Tess. ‘Bye, Alex.”

Sammy Jo stepped away from the car and waved as Tess headed down the long driveway. A breeze ruffled Sammy Jo’s hair, lifting it off her neck.

As she swatted dust from her jeans, Sammy Jo saw dark storm clouds gather along the horizon. Squinting, she calculated how long she had before the thunderstorm hit the ranch. Not long.

She considered a bath, but there was one more task she didn’t want to put off any longer. Grimacing, she put a hand on the telephone. Luckily she still had a phone since they’d cut off her cell service. She needed to get that beaver dam taken care of, she reasoned, and therefore she needed to talk to Cooper.

She dialed swiftly, then glared down at her suddenly trembling fingers, infuriated by the hard, uneven beats of her heart. Clearing her throat several times, she listened to the line ring at his end. What in God’s name was wrong with her? He was just one solitary, chauvinistic, hard-headed, impossible man and—

“Hello?” The deep timbre of Cooper’s voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She had to force herself not to slam down the receiver. Uncharacteristically tongue-tied, she said, “Cooper? It’s Sammy Jo. I want to talk about the dam.”

“Oh, right.”

“Can you meet me there? We need to work together on this.”

“When?”

“How about in an hour?”

She didn’t have much faith that he would really drop everything and join her, but hey, it was time to make some decisions.

“We might get wet,” Cooper observed.

With a quick glance to the thick, slate clouds settled over the mountains, she said, “Not if we hurry.”

To her surprise, Cooper agreed to meet her there, so she described exactly where the dam was located, postponing her bath until later and hurrying to the barn. By the time she had her favorite quarter horse, Goldie, following the near-dry creek bed, the storm clouds had drawn closer and she could see the jagged flash of lightning forks.

“We’ll make this quick.” She patted Goldie’s neck. By now she’d gotten herself in control and was amazed by her overreaction at just making that phone call. Good grief. She’d handled more than her share of men. She’d even wrestled some to the ground when they’d bugged her. Of course, that was in grade school, but as far as she was concerned, it still counted.

Just because some corporate-rancher-type had confused her with his good looks and tough attitude didn’t mean she was whipped, either. She just hadn’t expected him to kiss like that.

Like what?
her ever present impish conscience asked.

“Like
that,
” she answered aloud, feeling ridiculous. And so what that she’d liked his kiss? She was female, after all, and maybe the slumbering feminine side of her was finally waking up. It had been one long, deep sleep, she had to admit, but now it was kind of nice to think maybe she could actually be interested in a man. Really interested. Interested in having one kiss her and touch her and maybe even make love to her. She was sure as hell past her pull date on that one.

“Oh, my God,” she murmured, then louder: “Oh, my God!” Birds flew from the trees, squawking in protest. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sammy Jo.”

Catching a glimpse of red through the trees, she realized Cooper was already at the beaver dam. His red-and-black plaid shirt moved between the branches, looking hot as the dickens.

“Trying to bake yourself?” Sammy Jo asked, dropping lithely to the ground and winding Goldie’s reins around a scrub bush.

He glanced down at his shirt. “Should I have come bare-chested?”

“I just meant, it’s flannel and it looks…‌hot.” His eyes said he read more into her comment than was there. Suddenly all business, Sammy Jo asked crisply, “What do you think?”

She gestured to the dam, which, if possible, looked even sturdier and more formidable than before, branches woven tightly with mud and twigs, the felled tree limbs, some at least ten inches in diameter, tough girders indeed.

“This is going to take some serious work,” Cooper said. He tested one of the branches with his foot. It didn’t move an inch. “Where are the occupants?”

“Hiding,” Sammy Jo said.

“Did you call the forest service?”

“We can relocate them to forest service land if we trap them and move them ourselves.”

“And then after that, we’ll pull this thing down.” He looked at the dam.

“Kind of a shame, isn’t it?” Sammy Jo said. “All that work.”

Cooper shook his head. “It’s going to be hell to break this up. It needs dynamite.”

“Can’t we dig it out?”

He gave her slim frame a long look. “We?”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“I don’t doubt it. But this would be backbreaking.”

He smiled and Sammy Jo’s breath caught. He was handsome all right, but that smile was a killer. It took ten years off his age and sent her pulse rocketing into the ionosphere. Clearing her throat, Sammy Jo prayed that she appeared outwardly calm.

“Carl will help. When do you want to take it out?”

Thunder growled. Cooper glanced skyward and shrugged. “Some other time. This storm’s going to catch us.”

“You think?” Sammy Jo shook her head. “We’ll make it back.” At that moment, a fat raindrop plopped on the back of her neck and slid down her spine. Gasping, she added, “Or maybe not.”

Cooper laughed as raindrops spattered all around. He slapped his cowboy hat onto his head. Raindrops fell in a silver sheet. Sammy Jo ducked under a blanket of pine branches and Cooper joined her, his sleeve brushing her shoulder.

The rain ran over the sunbaked ground, turning to dusty rivulets that squiggled wildly in all directions. Sammy Jo inhaled and smelled more of Cooper’s scent. She watched rain runoff the brim of his hat and felt it trickle down her own temple.

They stood in silence for several moments while steam rose like wisps of smoke from the thirsty ground. Thunder rumbled threateningly after each split of lightning. Rain splattered and chattered like a frenzied conversation as it hit the still water of the pond. A beaver head appeared, then ducked back under the surface. Sammy Jo looked at Cooper, whose eyes crinkled with amusement.

“They’re too cute for words, the little devils,” she said.

“Yes.”

They stared at each other. Sammy Jo couldn’t help remembering that last kiss. From the way his gaze traveled to her lips, he seemed to be thinking of it, too.

Thunder growled again. Sammy Jo stepped back, her boot slipping slightly. Cooper’s hand automatically grasped her arm, but in the process, his fingers accidentally grazed her breast.

Sammy Jo swooped in a breath. She felt his fingers tighten, saw the change in his expression. Passion grew in the dense, warm privacy of the rain.

“Sammy Jo,” he said softly, so softly she wasn’t certain he’d really said anything.

“We should go back.”

“We should,” he agreed, pulling her close, too close. She shook her head as his mouth came down on hers, gently this time, completely shattering her resistance.

His hat slid down to the wet ground. He ignored it as his lips molded hers. Sammy Jo’s breath escaped on a sigh of pleasure. His mouth drove conscious, sane thought from her mind. All she felt was moist heat from that kiss. Shivers down her back. Goosebumps on her arms.

His hands slid down her back to the base of her spine, drawing her forward until she was pressed so close she could scarcely breathe. Rain poured around them, dampening her hair, her skin, sticking her shirt to her back and chest. She felt his heart pounding sure and strong against breasts that felt oddly full and tight.

And then his lips parted hers, and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Sammy Jo jerked, mewed out a sound of protest, then was flooded with liquid sensation. Her head reeled. The smell of moisture and damp leaves and some musky, primal scent she wasn’t certain existed outside of herself blended into an exotic concoction; the scent of desire.

She wound her arms around his neck. Heat emanated from his skin. Her fingers explored his hairline, and his own hands tangled in her mane, ripping the ponytail loose, luxuriating in the silken fullness of heavy blonde strands.

BOOM! The crack of thunder was loud enough to wake the dead. Sammy Jo jumped, and even Cooper jerked in surprise. They broke apart, staring at each other. Sammy Jo’s chest heaved.

“Just thunder,” he said.

“Uh huh.” His eyes were slumberous, yet flamed with pulsing excitement.

“And electricity,” he added quietly.

“Yup.” Sammy Jo couldn’t speak. She watched his gaze drop to her still-trembling breasts, and her cheeks burned. “I don’t get it,” she admitted with pure honesty.

Cooper shook his head, the black strands of his hair sensuously wet. “Haven’t you kissed anyone before?”

“Of course I have,” she said scornfully.

“And?”

“What?”

“What don’t you get?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he suggested, “Why you want to kiss me?”

His arrogance set her teeth on edge and her blood on fire. She fought against his compelling attraction. “It’s you who wants to kiss me.”

“You’d like to believe that.”

“I do believe it. Because it’s true.”

“You just hate the fact that you liked it. And you want to do it again.” Passion lurked in his eyes, waiting to be reignited.

Her heart slammed inside her chest. “You’re an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“We could test the waters again,” he suggested, his gaze frankly appreciative as it swept over her rain-soaked body.

“No.” This was dangerous. In an undefined way. Her instincts were on overload, crying out for fulfillment. Fulfillment with Cooper. But this was tricky. Complicated. Downright reckless.

He can never know how right he is
. “I’ve gotta go think about things.”

“What things?” His hands tugged on her arm, pulling her near once again. She concentrated on his top button, but above that, where his shirt gapped, she could see a smattering of dark chest hair. Without conscious consent, her fingers touched that bare skin. He drew a sharp breath. “Sammy Jo,” he warned huskily.

She snatched her hand back. “Sorry. I—I can’t get sidetracked. I’ve got the Triple R to think about, and this won’t work.”

The words were ripped from that logical part of her mind that had led her throughout her life. It was a part that had served her well, all things considered. She never questioned its dominance over her emotions. Its logic was clear, where feelings and desires were murky and dangerous.

But it was the wrong thing to say to Cooper Ryan.

“Because I’m not husband material?” he asked in a quiet, ominous voice.

“Because you won’t help me.”

“What do you want me to do? Invest in the damn thing with you?”

“Why is that so terrible an idea?” Sammy Jo yanked her arm back, growing annoyed in spite of her attraction to the man.

“You’d do anything to save this ranch, wouldn’t you? You really
would
buy a husband.” He snatched up his hat, rain pouring off the brim unheeded. “Or maybe, just an investor,” he added.

“You think I
kissed
you because I thought that might change your mind?”

“Well?”

Passion dissolved into fury. She wanted to kick him. “Actually, I hadn’t thought of it until you put the idea in my head. Tell me, did it work?”

“No.” His voice was frigid.

“Too damn bad. Looks like I’ll have to marry Brent or Tommy or whoever decides to pop the question first.”

“You do that.”

“I sure will.”

“You wouldn’t know the first thing about how to be a wife.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I? I’m sure as hell getting some great lessons on kissing, aren’t I?”

His arm shot out. Sammy Jo jerked back, fists clenched. “Don’t touch me.”

“You can’t see a damn thing beyond this ranch,” he declared. “You hate the idea of marriage, but you’d get married just for the Triple R.”

“I don’t hate the idea of marriage.”

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met!” he snarled, his own temper igniting, and from the looks of it, it was a bear.

“Okay, you got me. I don’t want to be married. I just want my ranch. Is that what you want to hear?”