She nickered happily, her lips brushing Harlan’s hand as she gobbled the carrot. Harlan smiled, wiping his hand on his jeans. He was such a sucker.
On his way out he checked the saddle on the rack again, ensuring it hung straight and clean, and he glanced over the rest of the tack, the harnesses and saddle cinches and ropes all hanging neatly on their hooks. All appeared good and orderly. The smell of horse and hay and leather hung heavy in the air. He took a deep breath and looked out the window toward the house, where Carol was…
His chest tightened when he thought of her. God, how he wanted her. The last couple years had been torture. Watching her out of the corner of his eye. Stealing looks when she wasn’t aware. Bad as some horny teenager. He wanted her, and she wasn’t hitched to any man, so what was his damn problem? Why didn’t he make a move instead of continuing to dangle himself at the end of this rope? He clenched his fists and stared at the warm lights in the house across the yard.
What was his damn problem?
Simple. He had nothing to give her. She’d grown up on this ranch. She would inherit it someday. Hell, she’d be running it herself in a half dozen years, maybe less, when her uncle finally decided to hang up the spurs and retire. Well, maybe not retire, but at least when he scaled back a little. Harlan had a tough time imagining the grizzled Jim McCreedy as a retiree.
No. Harlan was just a ranch hand. It was what he loved best. Except for his horse, that was. He’d done some time at Colorado Community College in Aurora, two years even, but him and college, well, they hadn’t clicked. He’d hated being confined in those tiny classrooms. They’d made him nervous. He needed the air and the space that could only be found outside, in the country.
So he’d gone back to what he’d done since he was fourteen: riding horseback, looking after the herds, fixing fences, repairing, baling hay, any work that left calluses on the hands. Hell, he could even sew. A man had to stitch his own leather from time to time, as the need arose. Nothing to be ashamed of. Though he’d fought with a college boy once who’d picked a fight with him, calling sewing woman’s work, as if it weren’t worthy of respect. Harlan’s fist had put an end to that talk quick. These days he’d mellowed some, but nothing made him angry faster than demeaning a woman.
But as for Carol… He needed to set down his own roots, have something to bring her home to. He’d always dreamed of owning a ranch in Colorado, but he’d go where there was land, possibility, and need. Arizona. Wyoming. Nevada. Wherever. Though he wasn’t sure she’d ever leave the place she’d grown up…and he feared asking, because he dreaded the answer would be “No.”
Problem was, times were getting harder, not easier, and his dream was slipping further out of reach as times got tougher. He’d saved for years. Had almost fifty grand saved up from years of going without, working long hours, splurging only on his horse. No fun, all work. The worst thing was, he wanted his own land more than ever, now that he’d met Carol. With a place of his own he was certain he could win her love
and
her respect.
And what precious things to win. He loved the way she wore that easy smile on her pretty face, so bright it couldn’t help but hook a return smile out of him. Loved the way she could walk all boot-heel, cowgirl roll one minute, and a graceful lady-like stride the next. That tickled him to no end. And the way she’d spit sometimes, showing off.
He grinned. Such a disgusting habit. He always had to work at keeping his face carefully neutral so she didn’t think he was laughing at her. She was out to prove something he guessed, though she didn’t have to do anything to earn his respect. He’d seen her ride, work the cattle and the fences. She knew what she was doing.
Now if only he knew what
he
was doing.
He walked out of the tack room, toward the welcoming lights of the house, and his stomach growled. He picked up his pace, hurrying for grub…but mostly hurrying to see her again.
Chapter Two
In the evening, Carol sometimes went for walks and other times she found somewhere quiet to gaze at the sky. Tonight the late September cold had deepened after dark. Carol shoved her hands in the pockets of her fleece jacket and drew it closer to her body. Her belly felt pleasantly full from dinner. There had been heaps of mashed potatoes, fresh string beans which she’d hidden in her potatoes, trying to disguise the taste, and juicy pork chops. The long day had left her body a bit tired, but her mind kept racing along. After dinner, she hadn’t been able to settle down. So she’d come out here for some quiet, hoping to find some peace with her thoughts. So far nothing had worked. Even the chill in the air didn’t clear her head.
The night was beautiful though. Only the barest wisps of cloud trailed across a sky brimming with stars. She loved stargazing. She’d been watching the stars since she was a girl. She felt bad for the people trapped inside the city beneath the light pollution. Out here, with the mountains and the sky, she always felt connected. Plugged into the land. She smiled at her awkward image, but it still seemed the right fit of words.
She climbed onto the fender of the ranch’s beat-up, hardworking GMC truck, stepped into the bed, then climbed onto the cab. The metal was bitter cold under her hands. She unfolded a horse blanket across the cab, then sat down and leaned her head back to stare at the stars.
The incredible stillness out here had always helped her approach the turmoil of her feelings with something like objectivity. She was at once so excited and terrified, eager to leave the ranch and start out on her own, but afraid she’d do something wrong. Lose the ranch she hadn’t even built yet. But she’d pulled her inheritance out of the investment funds that had kept it safe and used it as a down payment, and thanks to her uncle and his loan, she could swing it. Barely. Though things were going to be hard for a time.
It would be tough to leave Snowbrook, as well. True, she could visit the ranch whenever she wanted, because it wasn’t as if she were moving to California or anything, but all the same, this would always be home for her. She had far too many memories to ever
not
feel deeply tied to it. Even though she was within riding distance, this still felt like leaving…because it was change. A
big
change. She’d joked around with Harlan all through dinner, but still she hadn’t told him. Twice she’d almost blurted it out…and at the last minute she’d held off, because the hour hadn’t been right. Her aunt was keeping it to herself too, at Carol’s request. Though there’d been a look in her aunt’s eyes at the time, a look that had been entirely too knowing. Were her feelings for Harlan so obvious to everyone? Maybe she was lucky her uncle was still off in Wyoming on a cattle buy.
She felt herself blush and then burst out laughing. She was so foolish, blushing out here in the darkness with no one around, like a shy girl, too young to know better.
The sound of boots crunching on the driveway gravel startled her. She turned and caught sight of Harlan walking toward his camper trailer that nestled in a little copse of evergreen trees near the paddock. She smiled, watching him walk, loving his long gait. Watching him when he hadn’t noticed her made her feel powerful, as if she had a secret hiding place and she could see him, but he had no idea of her…careful observation.
She snorted. Careful observation? More like peeping.
“Hey cowboy,” she called, surprising herself. “Over here.”
Right up until the moment the words had burst out of her mouth she’d believed she’d only wanted peace and solitude. Now her voice echoed, bouncing back from the stables and the house. She bit at her lip, eager for him to stop and sit awhile, but nervous all the same.
He halted and looked toward her. One of the outside floodlights behind him threw his face in shadow, so she couldn’t tell if he was happy or annoyed to see her. But he walked over to her, crossed his arms on the truck bed, and leaned against it.
“So this is how you get out of doing the dishes,” he said. “Devious.”
“Nope. Tonight was your night for dishes, buckeroo. I did last night.”
“Tex. Buckaroo. Guess that’s better than cowpoke.”
She gave a short laugh. A cool, almost-cold breeze came down off the mountain range. Soon it would be too cold to stay out like this for long. She’d better enjoy it while she could. Unless she found someone to keep her warm.
“So what’s on your mind?” He cocked his head to the side, watching her from under the brim of his hat. “You’ve had something you’ve been dying to tell me all during dinner.”
She gaped at him. “How do you figure that?”
“I could see it plain enough. Lots of pauses. Heavy silences. So, out with it then.”
No escape now. She wouldn’t lie to him, either. He deserved the truth.
“I’m leaving Snowbrook,” she said. “I bought land off my uncle, twenty-five acres.”
He nodded. “I had an idea some big deal was going on. Didn’t know it was you.” He pushed his hat farther back on his head and smiled…though she thought she saw a shadow in his eyes. “Congratulations are in order.”
“There’s more. Three weeks and construction starts. I’m going to be living on site, overseeing everything. Helping out.” She shrugged. “I already have a trailer there. A generator. Well water access. I…I didn’t want to say anything until it was final.”
He stayed very still and didn’t reply for a long moment. Her heart beat hard in her chest. She didn’t dare move, though she suddenly felt very cold. Had telling him been a terrible mistake?
“So that’s why you haven’t been around as much,” he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. “Your uncle’s been distracted too. I thought it was just the market. Surprised he didn’t mention it.”
“We agreed to keep it quiet. No…actually I asked him to keep it quiet. The banks…and if it fell through I didn’t want to look…” She shrugged and glanced away, frowning. It sounded stupid to say now, but if the deal had fallen through she hadn’t wanted Harlan to know she had tried and failed. It had seemed so important at the time. Right up there with insisting her uncle charge her a market fair price for the land, not simply give it to her as he’d first wanted. Now that she’d succeeded, deal in place, dream in reach, her reservations seemed foolish and overblown. “Well, I couldn’t have done this without him. But it’s something I’ve always wanted, and I know I’d be good at it.”
Harlan nodded. “You will be.”
She smiled, pleasure washing through her. His faith in her, and the simple way he’d said it, made her feel stronger, capable, good enough to pull it off.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
She scooted over and patted the blanket on the truck cab. “Don’t worry if we dent it. On this piece of junk, nobody’ll ever notice.”
He laughed and climbed up next to her. He was so tall that he stretched his long legs out, stretched back on his boot heels as he sat on the cab. “How many head of cattle you planning to keep?”
“No more than a hundred to start. And I want horses. I want to get back into horse training. I miss it.”
He nodded again, slow and easy. “You always were good at it.”
“Stop, you’ll make me blush.”
He turned his head and looked at her frankly. “I’m not telling anything but the truth.”
She had to glance away. She didn’t want him to read what was in her heart or see the emotions that had to be plain as day on her face. Thank God it was dark out.
“You need help?” he asked, when she didn’t reply.
She straightened a little. “No. Thank you, but no.”
They were quiet for a while. She thought of a hundred things to say and couldn’t say any of them. She was wondering what would come next when he put his hand on hers where it rested on the truck roof. His skin felt delightfully warm. His fingers and palms were heavily callused, like worn leather, rough as old rope. And yet his touch set her heart to beating like mad, as if she were riding a horse at full gallop.
She turned her hand to intertwine her fingers with his. He was looking at her. So close. His face so serious. With his other hand he pushed back his hat and leaned toward her. She tilted her chin, closed her eyes. Unlike the rest of him, his lips were soft against hers. His kiss deepened. She parted her lips and enjoyed every little bit of it. Finally he drew back, still watching her solemnly.
“I’ve wanted to do that for two years,” he said.
“Why…did you wait?”
“If you’re leaving, then that was my last chance.”
“I don’t believe in last chances,” she said. “I believe in new chances.”
He smiled and touched her face. “I know you do.”
He stood up on the truck bed and held a hand out to her. She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. They stood together in the truck bed, but he didn’t hold her, didn’t pull her close.
“So what now?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
“You go make your dream happen, that’s what.”
“You can come around, maybe… I’ll always have a cold beer in the fridge. It’s a ranch hand staple.” God, she sounded so desperate. And foolish, tacking that last part on, trying to cover her feelings, making it seem less important than she wanted it to be.
Foolish and desperate, and part of her didn’t even care. That part of her wanted to grab Harlan and kiss him. No, she wanted even more. She yearned to push him back on the truck bed and yank those jeans of his down, to tease him till he groaned and then ride him fast and hard, driving herself down on his cock, feeing his heat trapped inside her, driving off the cold. His heat held inside her, where it would be hers. For a while it would only be hers.
“You reminded me of something, tonight,” Harlan said.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“I need to work harder than ever to get what I want.”
There was a pause and a rising tension between them, growing in the silence.
“What do you want?” she finally asked, hoping,
desperate
that he would say it. That he would say he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
“I’ve wanted my own ranch since I was fourteen. You reminded me that it’s within reach, if only I want it badly enough.” He smiled and looked toward the stables where Pike was, then turned back to her. “I’ll never forget that kiss.”