by Joanna Sims
“What do you think of this one?” Skyler asked, modeling a hat.
Brandy’s brow furrowed as her attention turned to where Skyler was standing. “Is that...?”
“That’s our guest.”
“Oh,” his neighbor drawled. “You’re calling her a guest now. I think I’ll go over and introduce myself.”
Crap.
Hunter followed Brandy over to where Skyler was trying on hats to replace the one trampled by the cleanup bull’s offspring.
“Hiya.” Brandy sauntered over to Skyler with her long-legged, stride. “I’m Brandy.”
“Skyler.”
It was a small space and even though Skyler had her mask on, Hunter was glad that she moved a step or two away from Brandy.
“I like that one,” Brandy said of the hat Skyler was trying on.
“Really?” Skyler looked at her own appearance. “I wasn’t sure.”
“You just have to sit it back on your head a bit.” Brandy pointed to her own hat.
Skyler studied her reflection and for the briefest of moments caught his gaze in the mirror. He gave her a thumbs-up.
It was a good color for her; the deep walnut-brown offset her wide lavender eyes.
“You look as adorable as a bug,” Brandy gushed. “Doesn’t she, Hunter?”
“It looks good on her.” He agreed, eager to buy the hat and go.
“Are you enjoying your time at Sugar Creek?” Brandy asked Skyler. “Hunter has just told me oodles and oodles about you. I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet you.”
“I’m enjoying it,” Skyler said and Hunter noted how toned-down her response was. Usually, Skyler was over the moon about her time in Montana and she wasn’t typically afraid to express it.
“Well, I’m so glad you’re enjoying your little summer vacation with us.” Brandy rested her arm on his sleeve and Hunter saw Skyler’s eyes dart to the hand and then back up to Brandy’s face.
“It was very nice to meet you, Brandy,” Skyler said after she paid for her hat. “Thank you for the hat advice,” she said as she exited.
“Of course. It was my pleasure,” Brandy called out as she hooked her arm with Hunter’s. “Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she said, lowering her voice for his ears only. “I’m getting awfully lonesome. Daddy doesn’t like to see me lonesome.”
Hunter extracted himself from Brandy as diplomatically as he could and then he hurried out of the store, where he found Skyler waiting for him at the truck.
Something subtle in Skyler’s body language signaled to him that she felt upset or uncomfortable. How did he know this about her? He just did.
“Don’t forget we need to get cat food for Daisy,” Skyler said in a subdued tone. She buckled herself into the seat and looked straight ahead, her new hat in her lap.
Hunter drove her to the nearest grocery store and wished that Skyler wouldn’t be so quiet. He was used to her chatting his ear off, something he had thought he didn’t like. Now that it was gone, he wanted it back. After a quick trip in and out of the grocery store, Hunter asked, “Anywhere else?”
“I want to go home,” she said, staring out the passenger window.
“I hope you mean just back to the cabin.”
It felt like a sharp, hot poker had stabbed him in the gut when he thought that Skyler might be saying that she wanted to go home to New York. When she didn’t clarify her statement, Hunter decided it was best to just leave her to her thoughts. He switched on the radio and turned the music down low.
Every now and again he would look over at Skyler, wishing he knew how to break her out of her current mood. Yes, Brandy had laid it on thick back at the store; no doubt her sugary sweet tone had come off as anything but sweet to Skyler. Brandy had acted like a territorial huntress with Skyler, and he, not knowing what to do, like an idiot, had done nothing. When they pulled onto the Sugar Creek main drive, his companion still hadn’t said a word to him. As he always did, he drove slowly through Skyler’s favorite tree canopy, half expecting her to break the silence and point out to him, for the one hundredth time, that the sun filtering through the branches and leaves looked like fireworks in a forest-green sky. But she said nothing.
“We’re home,” he said, shifting into Park.
Skyler pushed the door open a bit harder than normal and jumped out of the truck. “This isn’t my home, Hunter. You know it and I know it.”
Skyler slammed the truck door and marched, a little tenderly still, as indignantly as she could toward the cabin.
“Damn it.” Hunter held on to the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
Instead of doing what he knew he should do, he did what he wanted to do: he followed Skyler. He hopped out of his truck and jogged after her.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he called after her.
“I didn’t ask.”
“But you care.”
Skyler spun around and pointed her finger at him. “Don’t tell me how I feel, Hunter. You don’t know how I feel.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
“I hate women like that! All of that talking-out-of-both-sides-of-your-mouth, sugary-sweet, mean-girl, butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth crap! I know that I’m short and skinny and my hair is a weird shade of red. I know I don’t have big boobs or any boobs to speak of. I always have to fight against my own negative newsreel! I don’t need some random stranger to deliberately try to make me feel bad about myself for no other reason than she’s an overly possessive, insecure, jealous wench! If she is your girlfriend, you’ve got real questionable taste!”
“She’s not my girlfriend. Not really.”
Skyler breathed in deeply and bit her lip hard while she shook her head and looked up at the sky for a moment.
“‘Not really’ is not a status, Hunter.”
“You’ve never asked me if I have a girlfriend.”
“That’s right,” Skyler snapped. “And you’ve never asked me if I have a boyfriend.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Daisy appeared and trotted up the stairs, where Skyler greeted her gently and kindly. Skyler pulled the cat food out of the grocery bag and tried to rip it open. She tried several times before Hunter walked up the stairs, took the bag from her, opened it and then poured Daisy some food.
“The answer is no. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Skyler crossed her arms in front of her body. “Jeremy couldn’t handle my illness so we both thought it was for the best if we broke up. So we did. End of story.
“I have to go take care of the horses now,” she said, brushing by him and racing down the steps.
“I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” Skyler picked up the pace.
“Will you just stop, Skyler?” Hunter called after her, frustrated. “You’re acting like a teenager.”
That got her to stop. She spun around, pointed to her chest and said, “I’m not acting like a teenager. I’m acting hurt. I was having a great time with you and then a frickin’ Victoria’s Secret model, your girlfriend, insulted me by calling me a cute bug.”
“Adorable,” Hunter mumbled.
“What?”
“I think she said adorable.”
“Do you want to see adorable?” Skyler asked, holding up her middle finger. “Here’s adorable for you.”
“Hold up.” Hunter picked up his pace; he reached for her hand and caught it, but let it go when she pulled away.
“I don’t even know why I feel so mad at you right now.” She turned to face him.
“Because you care.”
He could see the hurt in her eyes and he was sorry for it. The wires had just gotten crossed between them. They had been developing a friendship—a working relationship—and somewhere along the line, something else had developed between them. He felt it, and now he wa
s certain that she was feeling it, too.
“What if I do?” she asked with a shrug.
He took a step toward her, holding the eye contact. “What if I do?”
Disbelief—that was what he read in her large lavender eyes.
“I’m sorry about what happened with Brandy—I didn’t know how to react so I did nothing. I was an idiot.”
Silence was her response.
“But she isn’t my girlfriend. She’s home from graduate school because of the pandemic and we’ve been talking. That’s it.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Not to me,” Hunter said, exasperated. “I’m much more interested in what’s going on right here. Right now. Between us.”
“The horses are waiting.”
“Let them wait.” Hunter had a demanding tone in his voice.
Skyler’s arms were crossed in front of her body, but she didn’t leave the conversation.
Hunter dipped his head down, lowered and softened his voice.
“I feel a certain way about you, Skyler.”
She didn’t move; she didn’t say a word. She listened, keenly, to what he was saying.
“I don’t know exactly what this is, but I want to figure it out.” He hooked his fingers with hers; he wanted to test the waters. Would she accept this physical touch from him?
Instead of pulling away, she actively held on to his fingers.
As he held her fingers, he held her gaze.
“I feel connected to you, Skyler.” The words were coming out more from his heart than his head. “Connected in a way that doesn’t make sense to me, in a way that I’ve never quite felt before. If you don’t feel the same way about me, then tell me now and I’ll get one of my brothers to take over for me...”
Skyler’s breath caught as she took a sharp intake of oxygen. He didn’t need her to say the words; the raw emotion he read in her eyes was enough for him.
Hunter acted on the feeling and kissed her. Still holding on to her hand, he pressed his lips to hers, being gentler and more patient than he had ever been before.
Her lips were soft and the kisses hesitant, but so very sweet.
Hunter took her face in his hands. “You are so beautiful, Skyler.”
He read the rejection of that compliment in her eyes.
“You are.” He dropped butterfly kisses on her lips. “My lovely, unusual, magical, unexpected angel.”
Chapter Eight
Skyler’s moral compass was temporarily rendered out of order by the fact that Hunter Brand was kissing her and declaring that he had feelings for her. It was a scene that could be taken out of hundreds of her teenage daydreams. But then reality set it and her moral compass lurched back to center.
“That was a lousy thing to do.” She pushed on his chest and took a step back from him. “Brandy is waiting for your call, remember? You’re playing both sides against the middle, Hunter. No woman deserves that.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Hunter asked, frustrated. “The fact that I’ve been talking to Brandy?”
Skyler didn’t respond; she turned on her heel and headed toward the barn.
“I’ll take care of this right now,” Hunter said.
She turned around. “What are you doing?”
He held up his hand to stop her from interrupting him while he held the phone up to his ear.
“Hey,” he said after the call connected. “Yeah, it’s always good to see you, too, Brandy.”
Skyler crossed her arms in front of her body; Hunter had actually called Brandy.
“Look,” he said, “if you want to go out with Dustin, don’t say no on account of me. I think we’re better off as friends.”
Hunter glanced up at her while he listened to Brandy on the other end of the line. He nodded wordlessly and then he said, “I understand. You take care.”
The cowboy put away his phone and walked over to her with long-legged strides. In truth, she didn’t know how to react—she didn’t know what to do, so she did nothing. She stood her ground and waited.
“That’s done,” he said dispassionately.
“Just like that.” It was both a statement and a question.
“Just like that.”
“And how did Brandy feel about—” she snapped her fingers “—‘just like that’?”
“She thinks I’m a jackass and she told me not to call her anymore.”
“Huh,” Skyler said.
Hunter breathed in deeply and let it out with a frustrated noise. “Brandy collects cowboys like a sport. I’m no more important to her than she is to me.
“Now...” he said, dipping his head down, his eyes scanning her face with an appreciation that she couldn’t ignore. This man—this cowboy of her dreams—returned her interest, her attraction. “Can we focus on what is going on, right here, right now, between us?”
* * *
It had been completely unexpected, Hunter’s declaration of feelings. He had always been polite, solicitous and teasing, but only once, when she had donned his shirt, had she ever sensed that he saw her as an attractive woman.
The kiss. Her mind was always returning to that wonderful, romantic, tender kiss. She had always imagined how his lips would feel if he pressed them against hers. Now she didn’t have to wonder. Because it had actually happened. So new was this development between Hunter and her that she hadn’t even shared it with Molly. In all the years they had been friends, this was the first time that she had wanted to keep something just for herself. She would, of course, tell Molly—she would tell Molly before she told anyone else. For now, she wanted to savor it, to make it last. She worried, with a tinge of superstition that she had always possessed, that to speak about it aloud would be to risk making it disappear.
“I’ve got the horses saddled for us.” Hunter walked up to where she was sitting on the porch steps with Daisy.
It was nighttime and the moon was full, washing the treetops with a buttery yellow hue. While they spent the day working together, there was no mention of the kiss the day before; there was no mention of the feelings Hunter had confessed he had for her. They kidded and joked and teased, but they kept it light, which suited Skyler just fine. Cancer had focused her mind singularly on the present, but she was very much aware of the future. At best, this would be a summer romance with Hunter. She had a real life back home; it was a smaller, more compact, more mundane life in the city. But it was hers. And there was her dad to think about. Without her, he would be alone. She was his family. Unlike Hunter, she didn’t have multiple siblings and an extended family in the state. For years, ever since her mother passed away, it had just been the two of them.
“I’ve never ridden at night before.” She picked up Daisy, hugged her, kissed her on the head and then set her down gently on the porch.
Hunter put one boot on the bottom step, leaned forward, held out his hand to her and said, “Our first date should be memorable.”
“A moonlight ride.” She took his hand. It was the most romantic of first dates. How many women got to say that they rode horses with a dreamy cowboy during a full moon? This would be a moment seared into her heart forever, she was certain of that. Jeremy had actually been a very romantic boyfriend, but not even he could manage a moonlight ride in Montana.
He held on to her hand as they took their time walking to the barn; the air was so clean and crisp that she had to breathe it in deeply several times.
“Are you okay?” Hunter asked.
“I’m perfect.” She sighed. “The air smells so good right now.”
She saw Hunter take a couple of small sniffs of the air out of her peripheral vision.
“It does?”
She laughed. “Yes. It does. It smells like a Christmas candle. Like pine and wood.”
Hunter squeezed her hand in an affectionate gesture. “I don’
t smell all that, but if you do, and you like it, then I’m glad.”
“I do and I do,” she said and then breathed in deeply again.
Hunter gave her a leg up on Dream Catcher’s back; she had ridden regularly since she had been in Montana, which allowed her to feel more comfortable and confident in the saddle. Recently, her inner thigh muscles had stopped being sore and most of the blisters on her feet had cleared up. Lately, she had been walking like a normal human instead of a rickety robot bolted together by rusty nails.
“Wow,” she said, knowing that she still used that word way too much. But how else could she describe the feeling of being on Dream Catcher’s back with only the light of the moon to guide her?
“It’s a different feeling, isn’t it?” Hunter rode up beside her on Zodiac.
“If I could be speechless, I would be speechless right now,” she said, her heart beginning to race with excitement and nervousness. “What if there’s something out there that spooks the horses?”
“You can handle it,” he responded, trying to reassure her. “I wouldn’t risk this if I thought you would get injured.”
He had been very protective of her ever since she passed out on the first day. If Hunter believed that she could do this, then she had to find a way to believe in her own ability, too.
Hunter pointed Zodiac toward a familiar trail, one that they had ridden together many times. It was so different riding in the dark; her eyes had adjusted and she could make out the basic shape of Hunter’s body astride Zodiac up ahead. Through the branches of the trees and the thick summer leaves, flashes of that buttery yellow light from the full moon filtered through, looking like a black-and-gold kaleidoscope that changed and shifted and morphed into something even more beautiful with every step Dream Catcher took. Because of her inability to use her sight, her other senses were heightened. She was keenly aware of the sounds around her—the creaking of the leather, the soft brushing of her jeans against the saddle, the distinctive sound of Dream Catcher’s hooves as they hit the ground and the cracking of dried twigs as they snapped beneath the pressure of the horses’ hooves.