Ever After at Sweetheart Ranch (13 page)

Will grinned. “I might. But that's okay. Lyndsay brought some goodies for me.”

“And you can have cookies,” Sandy pointed out. “Your sisters did a wonderful job.”

“Ah, so you tried one—­didn't your tongue burn?”

They all laughed, and Will was glad most ­people weren't taking the campaigning as seriously as the two ladies running. Then he visited with his sisters and grandma. He had a cookie before Steph spoke.

“Lyndsay was chatting with us before the game. That was cool of her to bring a picnic basket for you.”

Will rubbed his hands together. “Yep, I can't wait to see what's inside.”

“Probably something sinful,” Steph said. “You know she loves her food.”

“William, I might have offended your young lady,” Grandma Sweet said.

He saw his sisters exchange a glance. “And why would you have done that?” he asked curiously.

Grandma sighed. “I do believe this election brings out my competitive nature. I had no idea.”

Will tried to keep a straight face.

“I implied that her father was foolish for seeing Rosemary. It was not my place to pass judgment—­even if I do believe it is foolish.”

“Okaay, I'll tell her you regret it.”

“Thank you.” Then she put on a big, unnatural smile and went to see another potential voter.

Emily leaned close and whispered, “She said nice things to Lyndsay, too, don't worry.”

“I won't,” he whispered back.

After a few more minutes, he joined the three young women at the blanket. Kate and Jessica got up without even coordinating it.

“Gotta run,” Kate said. “Ethan has homework. You teachers are such slave drivers, even near the end of school.”

Lyndsay shrugged. “Gotta pass those tests. But he will. He's a smart kid.”

Kate glowed at the compliment. “We'll talk later,” she said to Lyndsay, raising her eyebrow meaningfully.

Jessica waved. “Have a good evening, you guys.”

And then it was just the two of them.

With a sigh, Will stretched out in front of Lyndsay, rested his head back in her lap, and closed his eyes. “Aah.”

He heard her chuckle even as she pulled his ball cap off and raked her fingers back through his hair.

“You poor baby,” she crooned, “working so hard to triumph over the other team. All of your sacrifices were certainly worth it.”

“Oh, I know. I have a brush burn on my thigh from sliding into home.” She didn't say anything, so he opened one eye. “Want to kiss it better?”

She laughed and briefly covered his eyes with her hands. “Are you hungry?”

He took her hands and held them to his chest. “I did have a cookie, but only one. I'm a hungry ball player. Whadiya have?”

She leaned over the basket and began to rummage through. “A very traditional romantic basket, the kind I'd prepare if you were taking me to see Shakespeare in the Park.”

He eyed her skeptically. “Do you like Shakespeare in the Park?”

“I do. So you're saying we won't have that in common?”

“Oh, I'll take you if you'd like to go, and I'll enjoy spending every moment with you. The Shakespeare part? Not so much.”

“Shakespeare is an acquired taste, I'll admit. And much of it is not panicking when you don't understand every word. You have to let it wash over you, take in the action, and you'll understand the gist of it.”

“If you say so.”

She began holding items up. “We have wine—­and since I'm assuming you didn't drink a Thalberg beer in front of your grandma—­”

“You're correct.”

“—­then you'll be thirsty. I brought grapes and strawberries, several kinds of cheese and crackers, some veggies and dip, and shrimp cocktail on ice.”

He rolled up onto his elbow to look at the spread before him. “Lyndsay, this is pretty amazing. Thanks for taking the time to do all this.”

She smiled and blushed, and he liked the way just a simple compliment pleased her. He sat up but still stayed close enough so that his right knee brushed her left, and they kept all the food in front of them. For a while they just chatted about their respective workdays, then his grandma's secondhand attempt at an apology. Lyndsay accepted with better grace than his grandma probably deserved. They grazed on the delicious food, watching the kids play on the playground and the last of the softball players having a beer at the Thalberg pickup, along with their cookies from Sugar and Spice. His brothers made sure to tell him they'd be just thrilled to finish moving the last of the dams that evening, and he promised he'd do the same for them another day. The sun had gone behind the mountains, but the sky was still a clear, beautiful blue. They pulled on jackets but didn't make any attempt to leave.

Lyndsay asked him about how they irrigated the hay fields, and it launched another discussion about water rights, and how the water commissioner regulated how much spring runoff they could divert across their fields. Hay fields needed to be flooded at least twice before cutting, and it took weeks of moving portable dams around to get the water to flow just where they needed it to be.

Sometimes women were bored listening to the description of his work as a cowboy—­they expected it all to be the glamour of riding horseback across vast fields or herding cattle across the beauty of the mountains. He did that, too. But there were a lot of dirty, messy jobs to be done on a ranch. Lyndsay seemed truly interested in all of it.

Gradually, the sky faded toward gray. Grandma Sweet and her cookies, and Mrs. Thalberg and her beer, had gone home, the kids and parents had disappeared on a school/work night, and it was just Lyndsay and Will lying side by side to see the first wink of a star.

Will came up on his elbow and gently feathered her bangs across her forehead, then followed a lock of hair down behind her ear. She regarded him with such gentle trust that it gave him a moment's pause. But he let his faint concern go, leaning down to give her the softest kiss, and then another, enjoying the sweetness of her parted lips. His hand had come to rest on her stomach, and without realizing it, he began to slide it up her rib cage. He felt her take a deep breath, which lifted her rib cage even harder into his hand, but he stopped just at the soft lower curve of her breast and she let out her breath.

With a sigh, he kissed her forehead. “The park officially closed at dusk. I guess we don't want Sheriff Buchanan kicking us out for making out like teenagers.”

He sat up, taking her hand and drawing her up, too. He put his hands in her hair to brush it back from her face but ended up bringing her mouth to his again. He permitted himself just one kiss. It was difficult to stop when he gazed into her flushed face and dreamy eyes. He helped her to her feet, and together they folded the blanket and put it back inside the basket with their leftovers. Taking her hand, he led her toward the parking lot. Their two cars were the last ones there.

“Will you be okay driving home?” he asked.

“I didn't have too much to drink, and you only had the glass of wine.”

“Then we're okay. I can't talk you into pretending otherwise so I can be forced to take you home?”

She smiled. “It's a school night.”

“Teachers,” he said, shaking his head. When they reached her car, he said, “So I'll see you at the ranch after school on Wednesday?”

“I'll be there, and I'll try to arrive before the kids in case you have any questions.”

“I looked over all the information and guidelines you sent. I think the only trouble I'll have is stopping. I like talking about what I do.”

“So you've talked to a group of kids before?”

“Well, no, but it can't be that difficult, right?”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing, and he wondered if he should be more worried.

 

Chapter 12

L
yndsay sat down on her couch and called Kate when she got home. “Now this isn't what you think,” she said when Kate answered. “I don't want to sigh dreamily over my picnic date with Will—­even though I could.”

“Of course you could,” Kate answered, amused.

“But since Jessica interrupted us when we were talking about my book, I couldn't ask, but now I can. What did you think about my hero?”

“Cody was very sexy and funny and intense. You certainly got the cowboy details down right.”

“Kate, you know what I mean! Did he come off totally like Will?”

Kate paused. “I'll be honest. I already knew the truth, so yeah, I could see the resemblance.”

Lyndsay closed her eyes and sighed.

“But—­and this is a big but—­you'd already told me. I honestly don't think I'd have realized it otherwise.”

“Really? You're not just saying that?”

“A lot of guys have sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. A lot of cowboys must have great bodies. And yeah, he's friendly and funny and a flirt—­but again, I've read a lot of romances. There are a lot of heroes like that.”

“Okay, but you know that scene where he takes his girlfriend's grandma's earrings and has them made into a necklace—­”

“That was so romantic!” Kate interrupted.

“I know! Well, that one scene is sort of like something Will did once. For Brittany.”

“Oh,” Kate said in a quieter voice.

“I didn't realize what I was doing at the time. It was during revisions, and my editor suggested I needed a romantic ‘grand gesture'—­her words—­and the idea just came to me. This was before I even realized that Cody was a lot like Will. The details are a little different—­it was her grandmother's ring rather than earrings—­but still. It just worked so perfectly in the book. As a writer, I take bits and pieces of my life or the things I've experienced and use them all the time, after altering them, of course. A funny line someone said, a favorite board game of my family, stuff like that. I guess Will's romantic thoughtfulness stuck with me longer than I thought. But now . . . I don't know, Will's a little more . . . sensitive about Brittany than I thought he'd be.”

“How do you mean? She died a long time ago.”

“I know, sixteen years this spring. But he accidentally brought up her name himself, and he was shocked and upset by it. He said he didn't like to talk about her. I knew he'd taken her death hard for a ­couple months, but by the fall, he was dating again and seemed himself. I never thought it would still be so painful for him. It's a side of him I never imagined, you know?”

“Well, this is why we date, to learn stuff about each other.”

Lyndsay sighed. “I guess I'll just have to hope that by the time he gets around to reading the book—­
if
he gets around to reading it, because it is a romance, after all—­he won't see himself in the pages, since he'll already have moved on to date someone else.”

“Wait, wait—­what did you say? That was really convoluted. Do you already assume you two are finished in a month or two?”

Lyndsay stared at the phone in surprise. “Of course I do. I'm not stupid. That's his pattern. And I'm just dating him to finally put my high school crush to rest.”

“We're all about breaking patterns, are we not?”

“
I
am, but not him. This is
Will
we're talking about. The only woman he dated longer than two months was Brittany, and they were probably each other's ‘first love.' ”

“He said that?”

“Well, no, I'm just assuming by his behavior when the subject of her came up.” She hesitated, frowning. “You know, I never thought of it that way, that she was the only one he dated a long time. It was a year and a half or two years, wasn't it?”

“I don't remember. You two were a grade behind me, after all.”

“Hmm. Well, anyway, I can't change the scene in the book. Thanks for making me feel better about the hero. As long as ­people aren't pointing at me on the street and laughing, guess I'll be okay.”

“They won't do that. You'll get lots of compliments, trust me. And I'll have Tony read it, especially that one scene you're talking about. I'm sure he'll be able to reassure you, too. It's a really good book, Lynds, very romantic and happily-­ever-­after.”

“That's what we like.” Quietly, she added, “Thanks, Kate. That means a lot to me. I'm so glad you've come home for good.”

Kate cleared her throat, but her voice broke a bit as she said, “Me, too. Talk to you later.”

W
ednesday afternoon, Lyndsay arrived at the Sweetheart Ranch before her students did. Rain had passed by in the morning, but now the sky was overcast. Though she'd changed into jeans, hiking boots, and a t-­shirt back at school, she was glad she'd brought a fleece. She parked her car and got out, only to find Will's parents standing at the corral, watching Will riding in the distance.

Faith smiled at her. “Hi, Lyndsay. I've promised Will I won't embarrass him by hanging around, but I had to see him with a group of kids.”

“It's gonna be interesting,” Lyndsay said. “I really appreciate you all allowing the kids to come here. Some of them are from ranches themselves, of course, but others are townies like me. I'm sure I'll be learning something, too.”

Joe said, “Will's good with the horses, so you've got the best.”

Will's horse trotted toward them, its brown coat gleaming with patches of gold hair near his rib cage. Lyndsay felt a little light-­headed at the beautiful image Will made, perfect control and harmony with the horse, masculine, with a flannel shirt over his t-­shirt, his hat shadowing his face but for the square shape of his jaw with the sexy cleft in the chin.

And then she remembered his parents standing right next to her, and she felt a little flustered and foolish.

Will lifted a hand as he reined in and the horse danced near the fence. “Hey, Lynds, your kids here yet?”

“Not yet. Do you want them here, near the horse pasture?”

“Naw, I thought we'd start in the barn for today's lesson. I'll bring Silver here in with me. Meet you over there.”

Lyndsay walked with his parents along the corral to approach the barn, a huge, two-­story wooden building that might have had old beginnings but had been renovated sometime in the recent past. Inside were a dozen horse stalls, all with their doors open. There were several ­“people” doors ajar, and she could see into the tack room and what seemed to be an office.

Two dogs bounded out to greet her, both white collie mixes, one with black patches and the other with brown. Lyndsay bent down to pet them as one tried to lean against her legs and the other circled excitedly.

“The black mottled is Boomer, and the brown is Patton,” Joe said. “They're as good with kids as they are with animals.”

“Good to know, thanks.”

“I'll be interested in meeting your group,” he continued. “I do a lot of work at the high school with an organic garden. Be good to get them interested.”

“Then now's your chance. I think the first are arriving.”

It took two SUVs and a pickup to bring all ten kids. After putting several horses in their stalls, Will moved among the newcomers easily, meeting the parents before they left, introducing himself to each of the kids individually. Joe Sweet did the same thing, and Lyndsay found herself standing back, watching with Faith.

“He's a special young man,” Faith murmured.

Lyndsay knew the woman's concerned-­mom eyes were focused on Will.

“Sometimes I worry about him—­but what mother doesn't, right?” Faith added.

She brightened her voice at the end, but Lyndsay wasn't fooled. She wondered why Faith should be worried, when it seemed Will was a confident man who loved his work and had lots of friends. Okay, he wasn't the settling-­down type, but Lyndsay wasn't sure that was something to waste your time worrying over. You couldn't change a man—­not even his mom could.

Lyndsay knew better than to even say hi to Ethan unless he initiated the conversation. He was a good kid, but at fourteen, he got embarrassed easily.

Matias, the young man she was helping with his science fair project, greeted her shyly. He seemed a little in awe of Will, which she understood. Sometimes Will just seemed larger than life. Ethan was Matias's mentor, the eighth grade “big brother” to seventh-­grader Matias. She liked watching Ethan include the younger boy with his friends, and though Matias didn't talk that much, he glowed with the feeling of being included.

Then at last Will raised his arms and his voice to gather everyone's attention. His parents left, his mother obviously reluctant. Lyndsay hung back, there for moral support and guidance only. Will brought his horse Silver forward, holding him by the halter as he began to talk, starting with the fact that they didn't have a breeding program at the Sweetheart; they bought their horses saddle-­broke already. He talked about the breeds, focusing on the American Quarter Horse, which so many ranchers used as cow ponies. To her surprise, he betrayed some nervousness by talking a little too fast and even rambling a bit, going off topic. He'd figure it out eventually.

While he talked, Lyndsay enjoyed the sound of his voice and learning about horses, but at the back of the crowd, she could see when trouble was beginning to brew. The ranch kids, who you'd think might be bored, were far more respectful and attentive. But she had a ­couple of townies in her group, whose parents had moved from larger communities to Valentine for its small-­town flavor and morals. They'd put their boys in 4-­H to learn about ranching—­and the boys weren't happy about it.

Alex's black hair was swept back off his forehead and hung to his shoulders. He was wearing sunglasses, even in the shade of the barn. Logan's brown hair was buzzed on the sides but left longish on top, and he'd adopted a perpetual scowl of boredom. They stood at the back of the group, occasionally whispering something to each other, and Will was simply ignoring them.

Alex got out his cell phone, and his fingers started flying. He said something to Logan, the two grinned, then Alex lowered his phone to his side. Logan pulled his out, too, but didn't glance at it.

Silver suddenly flattened his ears and bared his teeth. Will glanced at him in surprise, then put a hand on his neck and said something softly, but Silver proceeded to stamp his hoofs and swish his tail back and forth.

“Why don't you kids step back,” Will said. “I'm not sure why he's so agitated, but let's give him some space.”

Silver was breathing heavily by this point, and Will talked gently to him, rubbing his neck and remaining so calm that Lyndsay could hardly tell he was concerned. But she thought his face reddened as whispers and giggles spread among the kids.

Lyndsay looked at those two cell phones, still clutched in the hands of the triumphant boys. She was standing in the back and couldn't use The Glare, which teachers had long mastered from the beginning of time. So she approached the two boys and spoke quietly.

“Are you using the Mosquito ringtone?” she asked.

Alex jumped, obviously so involved in his prank that he hadn't heard her approach. “Uh, Ms. De Luca, I don't know what you're—­”

“Stow it. Being a bully toward a poor horse isn't cool. Turn off the phones. And isn't the end-­of-­the-­year dance coming up? Logan, I heard you asked Melissa. What a shame you might not be able to go. Alex, I understand your mom signed up to be a chaperone.”

They quickly turned off their phones and shoved them in their pockets. Arms folded across their chests, they sullenly kept their gazes on Will.

Silver had gone docile again, and Will went on with his talk. Soon he opened it up for questions, and that seemed to visibly relax him.

Until Matias asked about the helicopter.

Will kept smiling, but Lyndsay could have sworn he'd tensed up a bit. Just as he'd done with her, he explained the various uses of a helicopter on a ranch, then ended with, “But we're doing a unit on horses, not helicopters. Next week we'll do some horseback riding after we talk about how to saddle and care for a horse.”

“Why can't we ride the helicopter?” Alex asked.

The kids waited silently, expectantly.

“Sorry, we don't give rides. We just use it for work.”

“Okay, guys,” Lyndsay called, “I hear your parents approaching. See you tomorrow at school.”

As the last car left in a carpooling line from the barn, kicking up dirt and gravel, Will stood watching them, thumbs in his jean pockets, his expression pensive.

She was smiling, pleasantly surprised at how patient he'd been, how genial in the face of unexpected problems. She'd never thought of him as great dad material, but he was.

She held back a little sigh. If he couldn't last longer than two months with a woman, it was pretty apparent he didn't plan to be a dad. And it was such a shame. Much as she dealt with other ­people's kids all day, she wanted her own desperately. A woman heading toward thirty-­four had to know that about herself, and she knew.

She tucked her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “I think you did a great job.”

“For my first time, you mean. I don't know how you do it. What was going on with Alex and—­what's-­his-­name?”

“Logan. You'll get their names eventually.”

“Yeah. After Silver got agitated, I saw you talking to them, and then like magic, he settled right down.”

“Have you ever heard of a Mosquito ringtone? Most ­people over thirty can't hear it, but kids can.”

“A ringtone? I read that they developed it to play over loudspeakers to keep teenagers from loitering by stores.”