The Bride Wore Denim (23 page)

“Yeah, she does.”

Cole wasn’t looking at the gelding. He grasped Harper’s shoulders from behind, spun her in her tracks and pushed her gently to the stall door next to Wheeler.

“You don’t need to relive all that stuff you told me anymore, Harpo.” The words touched her one at a time, hot, sweet-scented breaths, earnest and adamant. “You have me. And I think you’re brave and smart. You fell and you got up. It made you kind and empathetic and too ready to deny yourself. Stop worrying about everybody and believe you deserve your life.”

It was exactly what she’d tried to tell herself the first night at his house by the pool table.

He claimed her mouth, and familiar pangs of desire erased any thoughts of speech or resistance. She wrapped his neck with her arms and pressed into his body, taking his tongue hungrily into her mouth and twisting her head to get closer.

They kissed. They kissed longer. They parted and then pushed back together. Teeth scraped lips, lips sought cheeks, chins, and earlobes.

Heat blazed into the deepest feminine part of her and pulsed, begging for the touch of his body against hers. She pulled away.

“I want this. I decided that during our retreat. I know I have to get past all my hang-ups.”

“You know none of them matter to me, don’t you?” he said.

“It matters to me a lot what you think. What everybody thinks.”

“What about what you think?”

“I’m still figuring that out. I still can’t believe I told you everything.”

“Harper, people have done much worse.”

“I know. But to me it was huge. A blot I can’t erase on my life. I need to think about this. About us. About where I belong.”

“I’d like to see if we could belong together.”

Chicago glittered in her mind, but it loomed a little like a diamond-studded jail cell.

Cole let her go, but he didn’t step away. He pressed another kiss to her lips, and even with no hold, no bodies inciting excitement with friction, the touch of his mouth was pure, hot, and meaningful all by itself.

“Tell me one thing,” he added. “This isn’t because of the oil disagreements? That’s decision making is all. You know that, right?”

She smiled wistfully. They’d come full circle, and the circle encompassed all the parts of her life that still tripped her up and messed with her head.

“It’s everything, Cole. It’s the future. It’s our different dreams. It’s the oil. It’s maybe less about Mia, now, but I still want to talk to her. And with Joely sick, how do we know where oil fits into her plans? This is too complicated.”

“Okay. Take it slowly. I get that. Just know that I’m getting used to having you around. If I’m not jealous of Tristan, then I’m pretty jealous of Chicago.”

She stepped back and turned again to the horse. Wheeler nudged her hand, looking for a treat. “And then there’s that. How smart is it to start something when I don’t live here?”

Once again the odd hollow in her stomach burned. It had never hurt before to say she didn’t live here; in fact, she’d relished it.

One more time the barn circled around her as Cole spun her in place and shocked her with a thrust of his hips that pressed her back against the wall. She stared at him with the coarse, solid wood bracing her back until his kiss, hard and desperate and matching the strength in his body, forced her eyes closed. He rocked his pelvis into hers and cupped her ears as if clinging to his very life force. Yet his weight neither frightened nor threatened. Instead, flames engulfed her core as he stroked against her once and then twice and then cruelly released her. When he stepped back, she couldn’t breathe.

“We could overcome the distance.”

His quiet words were in juxtaposition to the thunder pounding through her veins. They sent a thrill low into her stomach and yet another rush of heat between her legs. She grabbed a handful of his shirt in each hand, bent on figuring out how to push him away and pull him closer at the same time. Pushing won out.

“We haven’t even been together under normal circumstances since this whole insane thing between us started. Every time we’re together it’s a crisis—something that’s forcing me to need you, to want protection and safety, and for you give it. But that’s not normal living.”

“Aw, Harpo, you’re a hot old mess aren’t you?” He drew her back for one last kiss on the forehead. “Tomorrow. We’re finishing the roundup. Come along. Forget all the crises and the questions. Get a little ranch normal back in your blood and see if that doesn’t make you feel better.”

For the first time in ages she grasped hold of a suggestion and embraced it with 100 percent enthusiasm.

“A normal day.” Her grin came easily. Her sharp-edged fear and even some of the pain of physical longing dissipated into excitement. “You’re on, cowboy.”

C
OLE RESTED A
forearm on his saddle horn and smiled across a sea of cow butts to the two girls on horseback trotting toward the herd. Ahead of them gamboled a white-faced calf maybe four or five months old. Harper drove from the left, Skylar from the right, each of them held her hat in a hand and waved it gently, keeping the calf trotting toward its mother. The cow—evident because it faced the oncoming baby from the edges of the herd—scolded in low, exasperated-mother moos, and Cole laughed. Some things were universal.

Skylar let out a whoop when the bovine pair was reunited. Harper, relaxed and easy and sexy as always in the saddle, slowed her horse to a walk and fell in beside the girl. They lifted their arms and slapped a high five above their heads. Cole sat up and pressed Paco forward.

“Good job,” Harper said. “You and Bungu make a great cow pair. This was a naughty little calf and you kept right up with him.”

As if to agree, the cow butted her babe with a sharp flick of her head, and he scooted up to join the herd. Skylar giggled.

“He was exploring. The creek bed was way more interesting than the walk home.”

“Welcome back,” Cole said, meeting up with them. “He must have wandered a ways.”

“A good half mile down the creek bottoms. Little dickens,” Harper said.

Her smile warmed him like a sunbeam. She’d looked damn gorgeous in her Chicago finery, but nothing could beat her curvy hips clad comfortably in soft denim, her legs draped around her horse’s sides, and her black bangs peeking out as she settled her hat back on her head. The addition of her Lady Stetson made her big, shining eyes pop even more. She looked like a sexy sprite.

She looked happy.

In fact, she’d worn this happy smile and lost the worried, uptight tension she’d been carrying from the moment he’d made her promise to come on the roundup today, and he had every intention of keeping her in this mood as long as he could. She needed the break.

“You should go tell your grandpa you’ve got the calf back,” Harper said.

“Okay. Where are you going to be?” Skylar looked at Harper almost as adoringly as she looked at him.

“I’ll keep her behind to help push,” Cole said. “Come on back when you’ve updated them at the front and found out if there’s anything we need to know.”

“Sure!” Her face shone with relief that they hadn’t banished her. “I’ll be right back.”

She turned Bungu and loped off along the edge of the herd. Twelve hundred head made a long line when stretched lazily along the last few miles of the valley toward home. This fake roundup was a wonderful tradition, Cole had decided. He could see Mia and Rico ahead on the left and Kelly and Neil on the right. Up ahead would be Bjorn and Marcus. In between were Rico’s two kids and Leif, and two dogs. Asta was still too young for such a long day, but Skylar had studied the behavior of these two so she’d know when her own pup was ready. Keeping the little border collie had been good for her. Everyone smiled. Everyone remembered how good it was to be outside moving. Yes. This was a good thing.

“That was sweet of you,” Harper said.

“What was?”

“Telling Sky she could come back. You’re good with her. You let her enjoy this teenage phase without encouraging anything.”

“Aw, heck, I like the kid. And her parents are the best—salt of the earth like my dad says. But she needs a little freedom to learn about the world. Then again, I dunno, I really have no idea about kids, especially girl kids. I open my mouth and crap comes out. You’re the one who’s great with her. You were a natural with all of them this last weekend. Skylar worships you.”

“I’m a novelty. Life on a ranch is never dull, but it can be lonely. I at least had sisters. And you. There aren’t a lot of kids her age around here.”

Silence fell, and they rode through it comfortably, easily, as if they’d done it all their lives. They had, in some ways, of course, but not like this. Not like partners with all the thoughts, worries, joys—and sparks—of adulthood between them. The knowledge that Harper had to leave soon pricked the back of Cole’s mind, edging toward pain like a constant tapping in the same sore spot. It didn’t matter that they disagreed on things—he liked discussing those things with her. It didn’t matter that she believed she’d had a bad past—he’d lived and worked with oil and construction crews; he was no saint. He didn’t want her to leave.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to convince her to stay.

Skylar rode back long moments later and settled into a walk beside them, sandwiching Cole in the middle. She reported that they were only about two miles from the main holding corrals and should be there in an hour or so—well before dinner, which Melanie and Sadie were preparing back at home. After that, the teen seemed to pick up on the silent contemplation and fell with them into the easy quiet.

Cole could have ridden in the peacefulness all the way to Canada.

They reached the outermost of six huge pens, each the size of a football field, while still half a mile from the main barns and the house. That’s when the easy peace ended and the fun of sorting began. It wasn’t so much detailed or difficult work as it was slightly chaotic, as steers were separated from cows and calves. The weaning would take place tomorrow and the rest of the week, when cows were tested for new pregnancies and the babies sent off in mopey collections to cry with each other away from their mothers for the first time. Today, none of that mattered. As the herd pooled into the ranch yards, the moos and squeals along with the dust and pungent cow reek mingled with shouted directions from Leif and Bjorn.

Skylar and Marcus were as helpful as any of the adults. They had no fear, directing their horses after scuffling steers, cutting off calves, and working together to funnel groups into the right gates. The teamwork had never ceased to amaze Cole. No matter what went on everywhere else, working the cows brought out the best in everyone. Good-natured ribbing and shouted praises flew abundantly. Satisfaction was everyone’s top emotion. A little over an hour after they’d arrived, the herd had been sorted into six pens containing roughly a hundred and fifty head each. The cattle dug into abundant hay and vied for automatic waterers, settling quickly.

The riders gathered at the last pen, grins on every face.

“All right!” Marcus practically swaggered in the saddle. “That was awesome.”

“You two are becoming indispensable,” Leif said. “Good job, grandkids of mine.”

“Amen to that,” Kelly said. “I haven’t been on a gathering for years. You guys reminded me how much fun it was when I was a kid.”

“Joely would be proud,” Bjorn said. “I admit, this always was a fun tradition.”

“Joely always was the beasts’ champion,” Harper said.

They laughed because they could, now that Joely was likely going to be all right. Relief curled like warm hearth smoke in Cole’s chest. He’d worked closely with Joely for several weeks before the accident. She was a little naïve and idealistic, but she was darn smart and a fast study. Over time she’d make a good landlord for Paradise Ranch. Any of the sisters would, come to that. They all knew their ways around horses, cows, and hard work.

He shared a quick smile with Harper. A pang of regret took him over. If he had Harper by his side, he’d consider running a big place like this. Raising their kids to continue both ranch legacies, teaching them to ride the way Skylar and Marcus . . . He chopped off his thoughts with an abrupt turn of his head. Such musing daydreams were far out of line.

“One down, two groups to go,” he said. “Busy week coming up.”

“We moved the two smaller groups into nearer pastures last week,” Bjorn added. “We’ll get through this bunch in the next three days and then go after the next.”

“I wish it would take a month,” Marcus said. “No school is the best.”

Skylar smiled and nodded. She’d turned in her art piece to the contest that morning, and from the way she spoke about it only when forced to, Cole figured she was plenty nervous. Harper had talked to her about ignoring rejection, and she’d done a good job easing Skylar’s fears. Her smart, sensitive words had probably impressed him more than they had Skylar—it was another example of the thousand things he was growing to love about Harper Crockett.

They all rubbed their horses down and took plenty of time making sure they were treated like the vital partners they were. Even if they didn’t participate in week-long roundups anymore, they were still indispensable. Paradise was definitely going to need a couple more good cow horses.

He sighed, his mood sobering slightly. He did love the idea of more horses, more time in the saddle, sticking around where, even in the barn, he could feel the cool breeze tugging at his hat through the open door and leaving its rough kiss on his skin. He’d give anything to get his dad back on a horse, too. To erase the stigma and hurt from losing the Double Di and give it all back. But more horses were another expenditure—the tip of a very large iceberg of costs. There was barely enough to cover salaries and feed for the winter at the moment. He had to pray the price of beef had risen as much as his research showed him it had.

For now, they’d all simply have to take top notch care of the horses they had. New ones might be an expenditure for next season.

When they trooped into the house, everyone was more than ready for a feast. And the women who’d chosen to stay domestic for the day didn’t disappoint. Platters of short ribs appeared on the big dining room table along with mounds of garlic mashed potatoes, tender beans fresh frozen from Bella’s garden, fruit salad, and Melanie’s delicious cornbread. Through the boisterous meal, everyone laughed. Cole delighted in Harper’s high mood, relieved that she even shared it with Mia. Maybe one more day of ranching would turn the tide on her outlook.

The landline phone rang as Sadie was about to produce her signature chocolate cake for dessert. Mia jumped to answer it and everyone’s conversation froze, knowing it could be news, good or bad, from the hospital.

“Hello?” Mia said, her features twisting as she listened intently. “Oh! Certainly. She’s here. Can you hold for a moment?” She covered the speaker and pointed at Harper. “It’s for you. Cecelia Markham.”

Pure surprise crossed Harper’s features. The rest of their tablemates breathed a collective sigh, and the chatter started up again. Harper took the phone from her sister and headed to another room, casting an uncertain look at Cole. He shot her a thumbs-up. Cecelia Markham had only brought good things to Harper’s life. This couldn’t be a bad call.

He was wrong.

She returned a solid ten minutes later, her face as crestfallen and pale as if there’d been yet another disaster.

“I have to go back to Chicago,” she said. “First thing tomorrow morning.”

“T
HERE YOU ARE
.”

Harper stopped the soothing rock of the front porch swing with her toe and smiled without looking at Cole. He’d gone to help check the cattle, and she’d gone to say good-bye to her mother and Joely. She’d known this conversation was coming, too, but she’d put it off as long as she could.

“Hi,” she said, as he eased his handsome frame onto the wooden seat and put his arm around her.

“It’s all going to be okay, you know,” he said. “You’ll be back soon.”

Would she? While Cecelia had been her usual kind self, she’d all but ordered Harper back for a special party organized to celebrate her recent sponsorship of Harper’s work. It was important, she’d said, for these movers and shakers to meet her. And it sounded as though Cecelia might have scheduled holiday appearances for her from now until Christmas. Cole could not possibly know if it was “all going to be okay.” But she loved that he tried so hard to make her think so.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s a little like I have a job now. It’s a job I love, but I owe Cecelia a lot, and I want to do my best for her. She’s creating so many opportunities for me to meet people and make a real career out of painting. How can I promise anything to Paradise? To you?”

“All you have to promise is not to give up on this new thing we’ve got. Don’t throw up roadblocks. Don’t be such a pessimist. See what happens.”

“You’re a cock-eyed optimist.”

“Promise.”

“I promise to see what happens.”

The growl that emanated from his throat made her laugh even before he clasped his hands around her neck and shook them. “You’re impossible.”

“Gosh, I’ve pretty much heard
that
my whole life.”

“Yeah, and I sure don’t have any trouble knowing why,” he teased. “But for some damn reason, I like you anyway.”

“It would be a lot easier if you didn’t like me quite so much. And vice versa.”

“But not nearly as much fun.”

“Yeah, fun.”

“You promised not to be a pessimist.”

“No. I promised to see what happens.”

“Let me show you.”

He kissed like he’d taken lessons from Casanova, Rhett Butler,
and
Upside-Down Spiderman and now surpassed them all. The soft touch of his lips set her body trembling, and shivers blazed across every inch of skin when his fingertips stroked her cheeks the moment he delved into her mouth. He tasted her reverently, as if she were the most exotic and precious of wines. He pulled her into the kiss inexorably and stoked the fire inside of her like a master, until she wanted him no matter what the consequences.

Until she scared herself out of the fog.

She jerked away, her movement the opposite of his skillful tenderness.

“Harper, what?”

“I’m leaving in the morning. What good does it do us to keep starting this and then having to screech to a halt?”

“We wouldn’t have to screech or halt.” He brushed his knuckles along her jawline. “Morning is a ways away.”

“And what? Complicate this by going to bed? What if I liked it?”

She tried to joke, but deep inside it wasn’t funny. The idea of loving Cole frightened her. She didn’t want to live on planes. She didn’t want to fall any more deeply in love with him than she already had.

“You would like it.”

“Arrogant.” She attempted a smile.