by Erin Marsh
Lacey thought Clay stiffened at their unexpected contact, but his gaze remained studiously glued to their food. “The ranch hands aren’t happy with me, but we’re currently scorching the needles off the prickly pear plants already growing in the pastures. I can’t feed the cacti exclusively to the cows because of the risk of pear balls in their digestive tract, but it’s a pretty good source of nutrients and water.”
Respect for Clay thundered through Lacey. Even after touring his ranch, she hadn’t realized how innovative he’d become. She didn’t know another rancher in Sagebrush Flats so willing to work with the environment instead of fighting against it and trying to mold it into their ideal of a perfect grazing ground.
“Have you considered nonlethal methods to control the wolves?” Lacey almost hated destroying their peaceful accord with the question, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
Thankfully, Clay didn’t bristle. “I’ve considered getting some dogs to stay with the cattle. Hell, I’ve even toyed with the idea of a guard llama.”
Not many people knew the seemingly docile herd animal actually made a good protector and would fiercely defend animals it had bonded with against predators. They’d even been known to kick a coyote to death to protect sheep. “A llama wouldn’t be able to take on a pack of canines or fend off a mountain lion,” Lacey said. “Dogs are a better choice. The strategy works best if you also have a human guard watching the herd at night, so when the dogs raise the alarm, your ranch hand can help chase off the wolves.”
“What type of breed would you recommend?”
“If you’re willing to import dogs, the USDA did a study and found the best choices aren’t the ones American ranchers typically use but the Kengal from Turkey, the Transmontano mastiff from Portugal, and the Karakachan from Bulgaria. I can get you more information about the dogs and their breeders if you’re interested. There are some U.S. breeders of Karakachans.”
Clay reached for his burger again. “I wouldn’t mind learning more about them.”
Pleased he seemed so receptive, Lacey tried another suggestion. “Have you thought about fladry fencing—the kind with strips of material attached to a string? It’s one of the more inexpensive solutions.”
“Don’t wolves just become desensitized to them?”
“Maybe it would help if you used them strategically, like during calving.”
“That’s an idea.” Clay placed his food back down, his arm brushing against hers.
Her stubborn desire for him fluttered again, demanding release. She noticed him shift away from her as if he was battling the same reaction. Sucking in her breath, Lacey redirected her thoughts back to their discussion.
“There’s also a herding technique where you apply less pressure on the cattle and allow them to huddle together organically without forcing them into a formation. It helps them move together naturally during a wolf attack, similar to how buffalo respond.”
Clay snorted. “Try telling Pete Thompson he’s rounding up cows wrong. I’m going to have enough pushback this spring and summer when we increase the number of dams on my property. The creek bed cut pretty deep over the years, so we have a lot of work to do.”
“What do you think about reintroducing beavers? I could put you in touch with some conservation groups.”
Surprise flooded Clay’s face. “You’d do that?”
“Of course,” she said. “You’re serious about restoring the ciénegas, and it would benefit Rocky Ridge. Have you looked into any grants?”
Clay nodded. “I received one last year.”
“The local paper should’ve done a story on it.”
Clay’s mouth twisted. “They weren’t interested.”
“They should’ve been.”
“Well, they were until they asked for my name,” Clay said. “Since my idea for doing a project with the local high school didn’t pan out, I’ve considered reaching out to some colleges to see if they have any interest.”
Lacey tapped her finger on the table as she thought. “One of my old professors is an expert in wetlands in the Southwest. If you talked to her, she or one of her grad students might be interested.”
“Really?” Clay’s whole face lit up. “That would be terrific.”
Their eyes locked, and the warm camaraderie finally flared into something more. Something hot. Something intense. Something unstoppable.
Lacey swallowed. Hard. She’d never felt want like this before. Despite everything pushing them apart, she couldn’t deny that a primal force kept pulling them back together. His eyes looked like hot springs again and not just because of the brilliant aquamarine color. This time, she could practically see steam rising from them. She sucked in her breath, and she watched as his searing gaze slipped to her lips. Her body stilled. Right here, right now, no one could stop them.
Just as she started to lean forward, he gave a little jerk, like someone who’d caught themselves nodding off. He cleared his throat, the sound low and gravelly. It rumbled through Lacey, leaving want in its wake. But it looked like Clay wouldn’t be satisfying her craving. His eyes had already started to cool into a lighter blue.
“I should get going. I was just finishing eating anyway,” Clay said, his voice matter-of-fact. It was the type of tone she suspected he used when assigning a task to his ranch hands. It was obvious he wanted to put some distance between them by keeping things businesslike. Given their history, it was the sensible choice. But Lacey didn’t want practical right now. She wanted the fantasy.
Her desire must have shown on her face, because Clay’s sculpted lips twisted wryly. “You’re tired, and you’ve had a long day. Our timing is off today.”
A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Our timing is so off, we might as well live in different epochs.”
His chuckle was real as he stood up. Bunching up his food wrapper, he tossed it into the empty bag that had held the food. “I’ll take the garbage when I leave. Greasy smells used to bug the hell out of my brother.”
“It’s like I’ve got a superpowered sniffer,” Lacey said. “When I was a kid, I thought it would be cool if I had ability to detect scents like a wolf. Now, I’m very glad I don’t.”
Clay laughed again as he gathered up her napkin. “That wouldn’t be my first choice for a superpower.”
“What would you pick?”
He paused, thinking for a moment. “Honestly, understanding what makes each person tick.”
“That’s an odd one.”
He lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “You have it to a degree, and so does June Winters. You two make friends without even thinking about it. Look at how you convinced a town full of ranchers to embrace wolves. And you’ve gotten further with my nephew in a month than I have in a year.”
Lacey opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “I…I don’t know what to say. I’ve never thought about it that way. I grew up at the Prairie Dog Café, so I guess Sagebrush is just like one big family to me.”
“It’s more than that. Do you get kids to participate in your ranger talks?”
“Well, yes, it’s part of my job.”
“Engaging children on summer vacation isn’t easy, Lacey. You have a knack with people. It’s amazing how you can bring them over to your way of thinking.”
A little sliver of doubt crept through her along with a glimmer of hurt. Were they back to retreading old ground about her wolf project? “Do you think I’m manipulative?”
The shock on his face doused her suspicions.
“Hell, not that. It’s something I admire about you, even when you’re arguing against me. Maybe I was even a little envious before I got to know you. I’ve never figured out the trick. When I was a kid, I used to pull stupid shit to get people to laugh. But once I stopped being the class clown, I didn’t have another way to connect with others.”
Lacey wanted
to reach out and touch him, but for an entirely different reason than before. She didn’t think he fully grasped how much he’d just revealed. He’d meant to reassure her, but in doing so, he’d exposed his own vulnerabilities. She knew the exact moment he realized it too.
His cheek muscles tightened, and he straightened his shoulders. “Well,” he said gruffly, “I’ve stayed long enough. Get some rest, Lacey.”
He turned to leave, and the room suddenly felt like a dark, yawning hole. She didn’t want to be alone, and Clay had a wonderfully grounding presence. And she had no trouble detecting the loneliness rolling off him too.
“Don’t go. Please stay.”
* * *
Clay paused at the door. He yearned to turn around. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood in the small alcove, staring unseeingly at the evacuation route sign. “I’m not sure if that would be smart.”
Getting involved with Lacey Montgomery was a bad idea for both of them. Right now, she wasn’t thinking clearly, so he needed to for both of them. And since he had little willpower when it came to resisting temptation, he avoided it altogether.
“You’re right,” she admitted in a soft voice. “But I’m not talking about starting something, Clay. I…I just don’t want to be alone.”
His hand froze on the door handle. He didn’t like the slight quiver he heard in her voice. He was used to Lacey Montgomery being indomitable. This was the woman who’d crawled into an unstable den to save a litter of wolf pups.
“Lacey,” he said softly, his voice a warning to both of them.
“You make me forget about my light-headedness.”
Ah, hell. He was going to cave.
“Please.”
He turned back around. “I’m still not sure about this.” Although he couldn’t make out her face in the dim light, he sensed that she wore a smile.
“To be honest, neither am I. But I know I need this right now.”
He heaved out a sigh, dropped the remains of their supper in the garbage can by the door, and made his way back to her. “So you just want to sit in the dark and talk?”
“Could…” She paused, her tone hesitant. When she spoke again, her voice was firmer. “Could you hold me?”
His heart slammed against his chest with the force of a landslide. It had been hard enough sitting pressed against her as they ate dinner. Every damn time one of them shifted, a spike of want had pierced him. He’d never experienced that much need just by being next to a woman. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he wrapped his arms around her. “That could be dangerous.”
This time, he was close enough to see the sweet curl of her lips. “Maybe I’ve always liked a little bit of danger. My passion is working with apex predators, after all.”
He snorted. “Lacey, I was the king of bad situations. Believe me. You have nothing on me.”
“Then sitting in the dark while holding me and talking shouldn’t faze you.”
She was dead wrong. The idea would’ve scared the shit out of him if he didn’t find it so damn appealing. And that was the problem. He’d always craved things that would only end up bringing him trouble.
“There isn’t a couch in the room,” he pointed out, “and it would get pretty uncomfortable in the armchair.”
“There’s the bed.”
Her quiet words rushed through him like a monsoon. When he spoke, he couldn’t keep a rough skeptical quality from his voice. “And nothing’s going to happen?”
“Nothing but talking and maybe sleeping.”
He wanted this woman with an intensity that defied reason. Doing what she asked would amount to sweet torture. But he couldn’t walk away.
“Are you sure this will make you feel better?”
“Pretty sure.” Her confidence had returned, and he liked the slight cocky note.
“If it doesn’t work, you’ll let me know, and I’ll go back to my own room.”
“Okay.”
“And neither of us is going to try to seduce the other.”
She emitted an uncharacteristic giggle, the sound bright and downright intoxicating. “You sound like a hero in a historical romance.”
He was not nearly as amused. “Right now, I feel like one minus the britches.”
“I can’t even imagine wearing a corset with a concussion.”
An image of Lacey in boudoir clothing popped into his mind. Even though he’d only seen her in T-shirts and jeans and her ranger’s uniform, he had no trouble imagining her in a tightly laced red top. The outfit would lift her breasts, and he’d…
Not think about it. At all.
“Let’s not talk about undergarments.”
Her chuckle turned into a full-blown belly laugh that helped dissipate some of the lust coiling through him. “Now you really sound like you’re in a Regency novel.”
This time, he ignored her comment. He didn’t need more sexy images of her burning into his brain. “Well, if we’re going to do this, let’s.”
“It’s not like we’re climbing into a raft and running class-five rapids. We’re just going to have a conversation in the dark.” She sat on the edge of the king-size bed and carefully lay back.
“Lacey, there will never be smooth waters between us.”
She sobered a little. “Point taken.”
He carefully stretched out on the big mattress, keeping his distance from Lacey. It didn’t work. She sidled up to him and tucked her small frame against his. It felt good. Too damn good. He gritted his teeth. This evening was going to be hell and heaven all rolled up together until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
They snuggled in silence as Clay tried to quiet his body’s natural reaction to her presence. He forced his thoughts back to their earlier conversation about his ranch. He was so busy concentrating on the work he needed to do to change the water flow on his property that he almost missed her soft words.
“It’s funny. Sitting with the lights out.”
Her words had a solemn quality that cut through his brainstorming. Sensing she was about to impart something important, Clay shifted in her direction.
“In what way?”
“I used to hate the dark.” The statement was made quietly, almost like that of a parishioner ready to make a startling confession. “After my father and brother died, I slept with my bedside lamp on even when I went to college. It drove my roommates nuts until I finally got a single room my junior year.”
“It makes sense. You’d been through a lot.” Clay reached for her hand. As soon as his fingers brushed her skin, she immediately turned her palm and pressed it tightly against his. A burst of warmth surrounded his heart, and he yearned to pull Lacey even closer.
Her next words sounded hollow and sad. “I was afraid the blackness would swallow me whole like it did my brother.”
Lacey’s pain sliced through Clay. His father had caused so much damage. How many families had he ripped apart in his quest for more money, more power? And Lacey? Lacey was brightness. She shouldn’t be worried about shadows. His dad and his scheming had done that. And for what? A fancy yacht that his sons trashed during parties? Several massive houses that never became homes? A garage full of fancy sports cars no one ever drove?
“Right before my brother’s junior year in high school, he messed up his leg playing soccer. It wasn’t even a real game. He’d just been fooling around with some of his buddies. It took several surgeries, but Greg was going to play again. Just like our dad did. But by his senior year, he was hooked on painkillers. He injured his leg in the second game. Sports career over—just like that. Before college. So that’s when the parties started for him…and me.”
“How old were you?” Lacey asked.
“Twelve.”
Lacey straightened as she studied him. He had no idea how much she could observe in the dim light. He hoped not muc
h. But he could make out her features well enough in the glow coming from the crack in the curtain. He could see her shock in the way she held her chin. But it was the sadness in her eyes that gripped him.
“How old were the other kids?”
“About my brother’s age or older.”
“He never should’ve taken you.” Lacey’s voice vibrated with outrage. He’d heard the tone countless times before. But it had always been directed at him like a sword, not in his defense.
Clay lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “I wasn’t exactly an innocent baby brother. I’d already been kicked out of three private schools by then. If Greg hadn’t taken me to those parties, I would’ve found them myself. Hell, it wasn’t even the first drink I had. I was already stealing top-shelf alcohol from my parents. Greg was the one who used to shout at me about it. My parents didn’t even notice, except the one time my friends and I got caught at school with a six-pack.”
“What did they do then?”
“Told me I was an annoying disappointment and shipped me off to a military academy. Mom had just returned from a spa in Europe, so she was irked that all the drama had interfered with her newfound inner peace. Dad had to cancel important meetings, so he wasn’t happy either.”
“I always thought your family had a glamorous life,” Lacey said softly.
Clay barked out a humorless laugh as he thought about their old wealth. His parents had liked flash and plenty of it. “We did. It just happened to be an empty one. I get what you mean about the darkness. I wish I’d just turned on a light to chase it away like you did. Instead, I picked pranks, parties, and pissing off my parents to fill the void.”
“How did you end up at your grandfather’s ranch?”
“I got kicked out of my second military school. Greg had dropped out of college by then and was on a downward spiral. Even Zach’s birth hadn’t stopped it. Everybody idolized Greg, so my parents figured they had to do something drastic with me. Hell, that’s not even right. They saw me as a lost cause and had run out of other ways to get rid of me.”