Always a Cowboy (9 page)

“Hard rock and a deep pool?” Luce supplied helpfully. “According to Drake, it's one of Red's favorite sayings. It's become my new favorite, too.”

“Red is quite the character, no doubt about that.” Blythe poured another cup of tea. “Speaking of babies, this is a personal question, but I do hope you want children.”

Wow, talk about moving too fast.

Luce didn't have a facile response to that one. She was rescued by Grace, who returned to the porch and lowered herself into a chair with a sigh of relief. She'd discarded her shoes in the meantime and come out barefoot, her red hair loose, and accepted a cup of tea and a cookie. “I've been waiting for this all day.”

Through a mouthful, she added directly to Luce, “Slate loves the footage of you and Drake. Thank you. He's been struggling with how to open the film. No pun intended, but that's picture-perfect.”

He might be happy about the picture, but Drake wasn't. Faintly, Luce said, “My pleasure.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

I
T
HAD
BEEN
a long week.

Drake had come to the conclusion that those shots of him and Luce might be the death of him.

Mostly because everyone knew about their unwitting role in the film, and the ranch hands had plenty to say. His current infamy—because he'd kissed a young woman under a moonlit sky—was drawing laughs from everyone, and not just on the ranch.

“Hey there, Romeo, what can I do for you?” Jack Dunlap, who ran the hardware store, grinned unapologetically. He was a tall, lean man with iron-gray hair who always wore suspenders and, if there weren't any customers, wasn't averse to stepping outside to smoke a cigar. The place was a labyrinth of packed aisles, but he knew where to find every nut, bolt and screw, and tell a customer exactly how to use every item he sold.

Romeo.
Drake was pretty sure he could thank Mace for the new nickname, although he couldn't prove it. In a very short time, it seemed that everyone in Mustang Creek had heard the story. It didn't help that the entire population of Bliss County was fascinated by the idea that Slater was filming a documentary right there. His out-of-town crew was staying at the resort, eating at the local restaurants, shopping at the stores, so it could've been one of those blabbermouths. He'd decided to ignore it all.

When he could, anyway.

“I have a list.” He handed it over to Jack. “Most of it's for Mace. He's planning to build a newfangled contraption for fermenting a certain kind of wine, I guess. I just need the usual to do repairs in the stables.”

Jack slipped on a pair of spectacles and surveyed the list. “Can do. Take me about fifteen minutes. Heard what you did for Thelma. She's hopping mad at you.”

That was Thelma, but it probably meant she was hopping mad because he'd found out she'd cried over the gesture in front of people. They were in real trouble now.

“Did it for Frankie,” Drake said blandly. “And it was all of us. Point me in the right direction and I'll help you with this list.”

“Back of the store, last aisle, for those hinges. I'll get the rest.”

As Drake headed toward the right section, he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with one of the few people he truly detested. Reed Keller straightened, a box of roofing nails in his hand. “Carson. Or I guess I should call you Romeo?”

He tolerated it from Jack, but he had his limits.

“Keller.” Drake nodded curtly, trying to ignore the man's smirk. He walked past as swiftly as possible. They'd clashed since grade school when he'd caught Keller pushing Mace around, and their relationship hadn't improved in high school, when Keller deliberately went after Drake's girlfriend.

The ploy had worked for him, too. She and Drake broke up, Keller had gotten her pregnant—there went Danielle's dreams of college—and married her. They had a couple of kids now, but he'd heard they'd recently separated.

Not his business.

Still, seeing the guy at all added a sour note to his day.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, just as Jack had promised, Drake was in his truck, on the way home. He thought the day was improving—until he saw Red outside the barn with Luce, leaning on a shovel and definitely chatting her up. He had the distinct feeling there was another Romeo reference in his future.

He parked the truck, texted Mace that he'd bought his supplies so his brother could come and unload them.

Unfortunately for him, Luce looked
very
cute in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, with her hair whipped back into a no-nonsense ponytail as usual. She was wearing her hiking boots and held a lightweight backpack slung over her arm.

“Hey, Romeo.” Yup, just as he'd predicted. Red obviously thought he was being funny.

Luce blushed. Drake took it in stride. “First time I've heard that today? Uh, not really. Word of warning, I'm starting to lose my sense of humor over this.”

Red adjusted his position. He might be older, and was certainly wiser, but he understood boundaries. He raised his hands. “Just joshing, son. Usually, you let it roll off your back. What has you as grouchy as a grizzly crawling out of his cave on a spring day?”

“Yeah, well, word about that film is all over town.” He took out the bag with the new latches for two of the stalls and slammed the door of his truck.

Red winked at Luce. “Who cares if the world knows you kissed a pretty girl?”

Exasperated, he avoided looking directly at the woman in question. “I don't particularly care, but surely people have something more important to talk about. Slater kisses Grace about fifty times a day—I'm always walking in on them by accident. No one hangs around talking about it. I'm going to replace those two latches and then ride out to the north pasture. Mind helping Mace with his stuff?”

“Don't mind at all.” Red ambled toward the truck.

“I feel I should apologize for something, but I don't know what.” Luce smiled tightly.

Drake wasn't taciturn by nature, or didn't think he was, anyway, and he relented, meeting her eyes. “It isn't you. I ran into someone who called me that, and while I don't mind being razzed a little, I didn't appreciate it from this person. We have some history. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

He was the one who'd kissed
her
, after all, not just once but twice, and he really wouldn't mind doing it again, but next time he'd check for hidden cameras.

“I'm hiking up to the ridge to see if the horses are there again this afternoon,” she said.

“If you want to wait a few minutes, I can take you most of the way.” That was the least he could do. He hadn't been very cordial since he'd run into Keller, but he shouldn't take it out on anyone else, particularly not Luce.

She didn't look too enthusiastic. “On your horse?”

“Yeah, on my horse. If I tried to walk everywhere on a ranch this size, I wouldn't get anything done. I do use the ATV sometimes, but it spooks the cattle. Horses work best. Always have and still do. Luce, you're the one who thinks you can tame a wild stallion! Maybe you need to get used to horses. I'm talking about real horses. Not just horses as an abstract idea or an academic interest.”

Defensively, she shot back, “All I want is for Smoke to trust me so I can get close enough to observe them better. I never said I'd tame him, nor did I say I want to ride.”

“Riding him would be a neat trick.”

“You know full well I didn't mean him.”

He was just teasing her, but also serious. “Your choice. It's quite a distance on foot as
you
know full well. Starburst and I can take you about halfway. I just have to change out these latches on a couple of stalls. Won't take me long.”

She was still thinking it over when he walked away, but he did have things to do, and as much as she might promise she wasn't going to interfere with his daily life, she already had. He found it entertaining that she was so eager to be around the wild horses, and yet Starburst, who was perfectly well behaved, intimidated her.

He used his handheld drill to remove the old latches on the stalls, attached the new ones quickly and then put his tools away.

As it turned out, Luce had decided to wait.

Judging by the tilt of her chin, she'd done it because he'd practically dared her, but he knew one thing.

He was looking forward to that ride.

* * *

D
RAKE
FELT
WARM
and solid as Luce sat behind him on the saddle. She was determined to put on a brave front, so when he urged the big horse into a gallop, she did her best not to panic.

As promised, he took her about five miles in easily half the time it would've taken her to walk, reined in near a field of grazing cows and dismounted to lift her off.

She appreciated the courtesy and was getting used to the fact that Drake Carson was a man of old-fashioned manners. A man who took care of other living creatures and was used to physical work, he thought nothing of picking up another person—literally!—and transferring her from point A to point B.

“It isn't smart to hike out here alone, especially if you're not used to rugged country. I hope that's come to your attention,” he told her in his low drawl. “Don't be fooled by all the scenic wonders—the place came to be called the Wild West for a reason. Lots of bad-tempered critters around, besides wild horses. We have venomous snakes, bears, big cats. And of course people can be the most dangerous predators of all. I can't stop you, but I can tell you I don't like it.”

Fair enough. He was giving her practical advice without being dictatorial, and she appreciated it. “I carry pepper spray.”

“Not a bad precaution. But all I'm saying is be alert. An animal, human or otherwise, can catch you unawares.”

Smiling, she said, “So you want me to survive to annoy you another day? I'm surprised.”

“No, you aren't.”

Okay, she wasn't. Not really. He wasn't just another good-looking cowboy; he was a kind man, a decent one. Whether he liked her or not, he wouldn't want any harm to befall her. “Drake, I—”

He raised a hand. “Look, be careful, okay? There's no cell service as you go higher up. I sure hope you put on sunblock if you won't wear a hat.”

“You aren't my big brother. Stop with the lecture.”

“Lecture's over.” He swung onto his horse in a single smooth movement and touched the brim of his hat. “And just so we're clear, I'm happy I'm not your brother. Have a nice walk. Wave hi to Smoke for me.”

With that, he rode off and left her standing there, watching him go. She squared her shoulders. The ridge where she knew the horses frequently grazed was still some distance away. She headed off in that direction, and thanks to his advice, she was more aware of her surroundings rather than simply preoccupied with her destination. It was a lovely sunny day so, yes, she'd put on a combination of insect repellent and sunscreen. The wildflowers were entrancing, and since she wasn't a botanical expert, she didn't know specifically what kind they were. But every variety was beautiful. Yellow, blue, red, violet...

She heard the familiar snort and immediately halted. The horses were much closer than she'd realized, having moved down toward the ranch. She was starting to grasp the dynamic of how the horses interacted with the ranch, which was exactly what she wanted.

They did intrude periodically, but then they made themselves scarce.

Smoke was there, on the fringes of his herd, watching her. He had an elegant head, reminiscent of Spanish horses in historical pictures she'd seen, and although he was cautious, she got the impression that maybe, just maybe, he knew she wasn't a threat. Such as when he'd drunk from the stream even though she was there.

He turned away and went back to grazing, cropping the long grass.

To her mind, that was progress.

Some of the mares in the herd were used to people, so she didn't worry too much about them. She eased closer very cautiously so they didn't all run. Unfortunately, Drake was right; she didn't know enough about horses. Still, she was learning more every day.

The mares with foals watched her, as did Smoke. When he lifted his head, she stood her ground and waited. Evidently, he'd confirmed that she wasn't a threat, because he didn't come any closer, but let her stay perched behind some sort of conifer, probably a Douglas fir. She got some good snapshots and started on her notes, sitting cross-legged behind the tree. The mustangs tolerated her presence. Smoke was paying attention, but he obviously wasn't worried, and that was her goal.

Trust.

It couldn't be bought, and it couldn't be sold, and in her view, it was the most important commodity in the world. Smoke trusted that she wasn't there to threaten anyone, so he wasn't worried about her.

Step one.

She did observe some of the horses taking an interest in her, but the stallion quickly shut that down. She assumed they were some of the mares Drake had griped about losing. Smoke shooed them back into the group, and he got no argument.

She wrote:
It's interesting. He's a dictator and yet protects them all. From what I understand, when the younger males start to challenge him, they'll either win or be driven out. Not a democracy. His private fiefdom is under guard at all times.

When she looked up again, she suddenly noticed that one of the foals was missing.

She checked her notebook twice. The little black one with the white star on his forehead was gone. She'd carefully noted them all over the past few weeks, describing them, and she was horrified. She even tried to call Drake, but he was right; her cell didn't work up this far.

Darn it, there were tears in her eyes.

As if Drake could fix it. As if he could rush in and save the day, find the colt or filly and solve the problem.

Luce sat down on a fallen log. Okay, she told herself, maybe she didn't know how to ride horses, but she did love them. Where did that little one go?

The sound of a horse nickering made her look up. Smoke stood about twenty feet away. She felt that an unspoken understanding had passed between them and that he recognized her concern.

“I hate to lose any of them,” she said quietly, at the risk of sending the horse flying away because she'd spoken. “I can't even imagine how you feel.”

The stallion took a tentative step toward her, then another one, until he stood less than a yard away. She couldn't believe it.

Under other circumstances, she might've taken his picture, but this wasn't that kind of moment.

This was...private.

Not that she was an expert, but she estimated that he got close enough to take in her scent. His breath ruffled her hair. She stayed perfectly still. Then he whirled around in a graceful movement and galloped off.