by Joanna Sims
“You okay back there?” She saw Hunter as a black outline, which changed as he turned his head to look back at her. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I feel like I’m in church. Like I need to whisper.”
“You do feel a bit closer to God out here, like this,” he agreed.
Skyler rested the hand holding the reins on the saddle horn and the other on her thigh. She worked to relax her torso, letting the natural rhythm of the horse’s walking gait move her hips back and forward.
“I want to close my eyes,” she said quietly.
“Then do it,” Hunter said. “Dream knows where to go. Trust her to take care of you.”
Skyler followed her instincts and closed her eyes. It felt like she was engaging in one of those trust-building exercises that her company sponsored every year—where she would have to allow herself to fall backward into the awaiting hands of her coworkers, trusting that they wouldn’t let her fall.
“Ah.” She breathed out the sound of wonder. “I hear so much more—I feel so much more.”
She mapped the trail in her mind and knew that they were approaching a corner. After the corner, a small bridge would take them over a stream. Skyler heard the water rushing over the rocks, gurgling and bubbling, and then she heard Zodiac’s hooves clop, clop, clop on the wood of the bridge. Skyler opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to hurry up the process of adjusting her eyes. Her eyes adjusted just in time for her to see the edge of the railing for the bridge, and down below the bridge, glimpses of white as the water rushed by. Never in her life had she experienced this feeling of innate freedom, joy, empowerment and bliss. She was smiling broadly and her soul felt like singing. She was happy, content and so grateful to Hunter for always pushing her in the best way.
She wanted to share the feeling with him. “I feel so happy.”
She heard Hunter chuckle. “So far I’m not doing too bad for our first date.”
That was an understatement—how could any man in her future top this? They would have to rent out the top of the Empire State Building or something outrageous like that. She didn’t share this fact with Hunter—no sense laying it on too thick. It was enough that she knew that this was a highlight of her life. Not even in her wildest teenage imaginings of her first date with the Hunter Brand from Cowboy Up! had she imagined this.
At the edge of the trail, they entered a clearing and the full moon came into view. In the expansive Montana sky, the moon loomed so large and bright that she reached out her hand to touch it.
Hunter stopped Zodiac so she could pull beside him. “This is what I wanted you to see.”
Her hand on her heart, she felt tears come to her eyes at the beauty she was bearing witness to. First her mother had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure, changing the course of her life. She had quit college, taken a job with Molly at a nationwide insurance company and done her best to take care of her mother until her dying day. And just when she thought she had gotten her life stable and her father was sort of back to some semblance of normalcy, they were both thrown back into the fight by her cancer diagnosis. A lung cancer caused by a genetic mutation in young adults, like her, who’d never touched a cigarette.
Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks and she tried to hide them from Hunter, but a telltale catch in her breathing brought his attention to her.
“Skyler?” He said her name with a concerned undertone. “Are you crying?”
Skyler wiped her tears away with her hand and nodded wordlessly.
“What’s wrong? What did I do?”
She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hunter. I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I’m happy.”
“Happy crying?”
The way he asked the question, as if he had asked about something so confusing and foreign to him that he could have been asking her about an alien landing, made her laugh through her tears.
“It happens. To me at least,” she explained. “Glorious things make me cry.”
Hunter reached for her hand; she put her hand into his, noting the rough patch on his palm where a callus had developed. She had forgotten her gloves and he had given her his; that callus was one of the results of that gesture of care he had shown her. She rubbed her thumb over that callus like she would a worry stone, and they sat together, basking in the light of the moon, while she silently added this special moment to her ever-growing list of blessings.
“Are you ready to move on?” he asked her quietly after many minutes had ticked by. “There’s more I want to show you.”
Hunter led her to a field of fireflies—acres and acres of tiny green lights blinking like nature’s very own holiday decoration.
“Christmas in July,” Skyler said in wonder.
“I’ve never thought of it that way before.”
“It reminds me of holiday lights. But there are thousands and thousands of them.”
After the field of fireflies, he turned them back into the woods, taking them on the familiar path for her comfort. He always seemed mindful of her experience of his world; he always wanted her to feel safe and secure with him. And she did. She truly did.
“What is that smell?” Skyler closed her eyes for a moment to focus on her nose. “Vanilla! It smells like a sugar cookie. What is that?!”
“Clematis.” She could hear the pleasure in his voice. He had surprised her again and he was enjoying his success. “They bloom in late spring and early summer. We have caught them just in time. Soon the scent will be gone.”
They ended their moonlight ride at Hunter’s stake, Oak Tree Hill. They let the horses graze nearby as they walked, hand and hand, by the light of the moon, to the grand, overarching ancient canopies that were the crowning glory of the property.
“I thought I would start a campfire. Maybe make some s’mores.”
“Do you make a mental note of everything I say?” She laughed and leaned into his body. She had mentioned wanting to make s’mores and now it was coming true. It really did seem like to her that Hunter was trying to make all of her Montana dreams come true.
“I try,” he said a bit sheepishly.
“You succeed, Hunter,” she said, squeezing his hand.
She found a comfortable spot on a bench carved from a log harvested from one of the oak trees that had died. Hunter had cut down that tree with his own hands and then carved a lovely bench for his fire from it.
The bench had a sweet, woody scent and was smooth to the touch as she ran her hands over the surface. Hunter had taken much care with the bench; it was a piece of art, really.
Hunter kneeled down by the firepit, tossed some kindling on the fire and then struck a match and tossed it onto the kindling. He joined her on the two-seater bench; he took her hand and, silently, they watched the fire grow.
“I love this bench,” she said to him. “It’s actually comfortable.”
“You’re the first person to sit on it with me.”
She looked at him, surprised. “That’s not true, is it?”
He nodded, staring into the fire. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“I feel...” She searched her mind for the correct feeling. “Honored.”
Then, to break the mood, as she’d always tried to do with her father when her mother was at her sickest, she added, “And hungry. Honored and hungry.”
Her attempt at humor had the desired effect—the cowboy laughed. “Let me go grab the fixin’s.” He stood up. “Don’t go anywhere.”
She lifted her arms and looked around. “Where am I going to go? I’m a captive audience.”
“Exactly.” He grinned at her mischievously.
Looking at Hunter never got old; she loved everything that made him him—the cleft in his chin, the black-brown hair that he kept cropped short, the strong, straight nose and those sexy, intense, ocean-blue ey
es. He had only gotten more handsome with age, and every time—every single time—she looked at him, she felt her heart thump a little bit harder. What she couldn’t quite figure is what exactly he wanted with her.
She had always felt puppy love for this man—at least the TV version of him. Now she had a full-blown adult crush on him that was an undeniable fact. But Hunter having feelings for her beyond friendship didn’t make logical sense to her. And that wasn’t to say that she didn’t feel worthy; her illness had given her the gift of self-esteem. She admired her own strength and she was grateful for the vessel she occupied, albeit petite and flat-chested with oddly colored hair that was now sprouting back out of her scalp. She liked herself...she loved herself. She fought the negative demons like anyone else, but she had a keen appreciation for who she was and what she brought to any relationship. And still, Hunter Brand’s interest was a bit of a mystery. She realized now that she was a bit more of city mouse than a country mouse; she was like a hothouse flower found in a field of wildflowers—beautiful but oddly placed.
“Graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows.”
“What else could a girl want?” She clasped her hands together in front of her.
“A little company from a cowboy?” He sat down beside her and put the food on the ground in front of them.
“Okay.” She smiled and laughed. “That, too.”
* * *
They had laughed for hours together up on his hill. Hunter couldn’t remember laughing with a woman the way he laughed with Skyler. She amused him; she challenged him. She made him think. And she made him see his world through a different lens—a lens that he was beginning to like very much.
“How come I’m always stuffing my face around you?” Skyler put her hands on her stomach with a groan. “I swear I’ve never acted so much like a swine in front of anyone else.”
“You have no idea how much I love that about you,” Hunter said. “A ranch woman needs to eat to keep up her strength.”
Skyler sat up a little straighter, her chin raised. “A ranch woman. I’m adding that to my résumé.”
“You should.”
“Cow wormer.” She laughed. “Fence tearer-downer.”
“You’ve developed a whole new skill set in a short amount of time.” He leaned forward to stoke the fire.
“I really have! I’m not sure how handy this will be in the customer-service arena when my leave of absence is over.” She shrugged with a self-effacing smile. “But you never know what life might bring.”
Hunter sat back. “Customer service. That doesn’t really seem like you.”
“I think I’ll have just one more,” she said when she saw him packing up the food.
He smiled as he skewered two of the giant marshmallows on the stick and held it over the fire to toast. “I’m going to make you the best s’more of the evening.”
Skyler rubbed her knees with her hands in anticipation. “I don’t mind my job, really. I get to help people resolve their problems. I get yelled at a lot, but those are the ones I feel most proud of when they hang up the phone because I feel like I really cared about finding a solution for them.” She addressed his earlier comment about her job. “I took what I could get when I quit college. Mom was sick and Dad needed to keep working full-time at the garage so they wouldn’t lose their medical benefits. My income helped make a dent in some of the bills.”
Her voice softened a bit at the memory. “I don’t regret it—leaving college. I got to be there for the most important woman in my life and I got to be there for my dad, too.”
Hunter wanted to ask her about her mother’s illness, but she hadn’t offered it and he decided not to pry.
“Do you ever think of going back? To college?” he asked instead while he pressed the perfectly toasted marshmallows on top of four squares of milk chocolate and two pieces of graham crackers. He stuck his creation back over the fire to melt the chocolate and then quickly removed it.
“Actually, I had already been accepted to the City College of New York for premedical studies and then—” she shrugged “—my body had other plans for me.”
Hunter wished he knew the right words to say when Skyler shared something so personal with him, and yet he didn’t. He felt woefully inadequate when it came to feelings and emotions. His special skill set was distraction and deflection. So that’s what he did now.
“Madam—” he presented the s’more to Skyler “—your dessert is served.”
“My dessert for after my dessert?”
He loved the sound of her laugh, the way her smile always reached her wide, unusual blue-lavender eyes. Perhaps that was her special appeal to him: she did everything to the fullest, even smiling. Even laughing.
“Mmmm.” Skyler’s eyes got even bigger after the first bite. She had marshmallow and chocolate on the corner of her mouth and it was still there after she popped in the final bite.
“That was the best s’more of my life,” she told him.
Acting on impulse, Hunter kissed the corner of her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the marshmallow and chocolate.
Skyler’s eyes widened again and she edged away from him for the briefest of moments before she leaned in toward him and kissed him on the lips. He slipped his hand behind her neck and deepened the kiss. He caught her breath in his mouth, tasted the sweetness on her tongue.
“I like the way you taste,” he murmured against her lips.
“I like the way you smell.” Skyler scooted closer to him, pressing her small, pert breasts against his body. He wanted to touch her; he wanted to feel the silkiness of her skin. She was soft in all of the places he wanted to fill with his hardness.
He easily scooped her up and put her on his lap. He knew, without any doubt, that she could feel his desire for her. Skyler leaned her body into him, took his face in her hands and returned his kisses.
He didn’t want to go too far. He didn’t want to go too fast. But, God, he didn’t want to stop. She was so light and airy in his arms; her kisses were so sweet and sincere. He wanted more of Skyler—he wanted her for always.
Chapter Nine
Always. The last thought that came into his mind—the thought of forever had the same effect as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on his head.
Hunter stood up with her in his arms, gently set her down on her feet and took a step back from her. In the process, he almost fell backward over the log bench he had carved for two.
Skyler looked as stunned and confused as he felt.
“I don’t want to ruin this by going too fast, Skyler.”
She nodded. “I’ve always been the tortoise, not the hare.”
His body was still hard and aching for her, and he willed the bulge in his pants to go down.
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” she asked. “My hands are all sticky.”
“Be my guest.”
He was grateful that she left him in that moment; he shifted his erection in his pants and felt relieved that it was starting to subside. He had always wanted to be a married man, but he had never found a woman who made him want to commit. In his heart, he had always known it would be a woman born in Montana, raised on a cattle ranch, like he’d been. How could Skyler—a spritelike woman from New York, be making him think of forever for the first time? Could Skyler really fit in with ranch life for the long haul? Would she last decades of harsh Montana winters, with one day running into the next without a break from the work? This life wasn’t a vacation and there was rarely an opportunity to have a vacation from the life.
“Thank you.” Skyler reappeared with a shy smile on her face, her arms intertwined like a pretzel in front of her body.
While she was in his trailer, he had doused the fire and laid out a blanket for them to admire the moon. He wasn’t ready to ride back to the cabin; he wasn’t ready for the night to end. He hoped she felt the
same way.
“Come join me.” He gestured to the blanket. “We’ll let our food settle before we ride back.”
“I like that plan.”
She joined him on the blanket and they lay on their backs, looking up at the full moon above. They held hands, their shoulders and their booted feet touching.
“This was the best first date of my life,” she whispered.
“This was the best first date of my life,” he replied, echoing the sentiment.
After a while, she curled on her side, rested her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart. He breathed in the scent of her and hugged her more closely to his body as her breathing changed and he realized she had fallen asleep in his arms. The end of summer would arrive eventually How would he ever be able to let his quirky, enchanting angel go?
* * *
Skyler awoke with a crick in her neck and a pain in her back from a jagged rock under the blanket.
“Oh.” She winced as she sat upright, blinking her eyes against the daylight. She hadn’t slept this late since the first week at the ranch.
“Hunter?” Skyler looked around, wincing every time she turned her neck to the right too far. She stood up stiffly, holding her neck, and continued to look around.
“Hunter?” The fire was going in the pit and there was a pot of coffee cooking, so he couldn’t have gone too far.
Just then, the door to the trailer swung open and a refreshed Hunter came through the door balancing a load of eggs, bacon and biscuits.
“Good morning.” He shot her that famous, dimpled smile of his. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock.” She leaned backward to stretch out the kinks. “And literally on a rock.”
He laughed and squatted down, setting a well-worn cast-iron skillet on a grate over the fire.
“I didn’t have the heart to wake you last night.” He poured her a cup of coffee. “Black is the best I can do.”