by Clay, Verna
Sarah pursed her lips.
He opened the door all the way and walked in. "Look Sarah, do you think we can call a truce? I'm sorry about your sprain and I'm doing my best to make you comfortable."
A sudden blast of pain made her wince.
Sage studied her expression. "Would you like to rest on the bed or the couch? There's a selection of movies in the living room. I'll have breakfast here shortly." He waited for her response.
Sucking in her pride, she said, "I'll rest on the couch," and then pushed herself up with her crutches.
* * *
Sage watched Mims slowly move toward the bedroom door. From her expression, he could see she'd taken a hit to her pride. He wanted to cover the distance between them, scoop her into his arms, and carry her to the couch, but gut instinct told him that would be the worst thing he could do. She already resented him for his heavy-handedness the day before and the Java Junction debacle. As difficult as it was, he turned and walked away, allowing her to make a painful exit to the living room.
Hovering just inside the kitchen doorway, he waited until she was seated before letting himself out the back door and heading to the dorm. Curley would be cooking a country breakfast for the greenhorns. Three more had arrived the previous night, a married couple and their teenage son—Jerry and Ann Hackstetter and Jacob. Because Sage always met with the "dudes" and "dudettes" their first night to show himself friendly, he'd learned that Mr. Hackstetter, a husky man with thick black hair, designed game software for a popular company, and Mrs. Hackstetter, a short, slim woman with muddy blond hair, was a stay-at-home mom. Mr. Hackstetter had grumbled about not having cell phone service and his wife had given Sage an apologetic look. Their son, a handsome kid with a sullen attitude who looked to be about sixteen, had almost tripped over his backpack when Mindy and Mandy had walked into the room. All Sage needed was for someone else to get hurt.
He reached the dorm and instead of entering through the front door, he slipped to the back and entered through the kitchen. Curley had a Hank William's tune blaring through the Bose speakers he'd insisted on installing, and a stack of flapjacks already piled high. Using one hand, the old cook cracked eggs into an iron skillet and flipped flapjacks with the other on the commercial stove's center griddle. Sage turned the volume down on the CD player.
Curley reached for another egg. "Yo boss, how many more greenhorns we got comin' today?"
"Just two—an elderly couple—Mr. and Mrs. Tully."
"Okay, so we got…uh…eight for next week?"
"Yep. Actually, the next two weeks."
"Newt said there's a dudette laid up at the house with a broken leg."
"Not broken, just a bad sprain. Dish me up some breakfast so I can take it to her. Then I'll come back to greet everyone and get the day's activities rolling."
"Right-o, boss."
Curley loaded a tray with scrambled eggs, hash browns, flapjacks, and homemade biscuits. On the side he added syrup, salsa, butter, strawberry jam, and honey. "Do you want me to add coffee?"
"No, I've got some brewed at the house." Sage picked up the tray and started back outside. "Thanks, Curley. I'll need you to make up a tray at lunch and supper, too."
Curley nodded and turned the music back up to sing along with Hank. "Your cheatin' heart, will make you weep, you'll cry and cry…"
Back at the house, Sage set the tray on the kitchen counter and went to check on Mims. She was lying stretched out with a pillow under her head and another one propped under her ankle. She obviously hadn't heard him enter because her eyes were closed. He studied her features, guessing her age to be somewhere around forty. She actually looked much younger when she wasn't scowling at him. Some wisps of shoulder length light brown hair had escaped the band at the back of her neck and now framed her face. She had a nice average face, with a cute little nose sprinkled with freckles. He remembered how her chocolate eyes had flashed when she'd argued with him. Something made her smile and the change in her countenance almost made her pretty. He wondered what she was thinking.
Instead of startling her, he tiptoed back to the kitchen and made some noise. Pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on the tray Curley had prepared, he remembered her fancy order at Java Junction. He poured cream into a glass in case she wanted it in her coffee. He also found some packets of sugar and tossed them next to the cup.
Balancing the tray on his palm, he returned to the living room and grabbed a TV table with his free hand. Mims was sitting up and smoothing her hair back. Placing the table in front of her, he set the tray on it. When he lifted the cover from the plate, she gasped. "I can't eat all that food!"
Sage chuckled, "I won't tell Curley you said that." At her questioning gaze, he explained, "Curley's the cook for the Lazy M. He's from West Texas and has no idea what small portions are."
"Well, Mr. Tanner, why don't you grab a plate and dish out about three-fourths for yourself?"
Sage started to decline, but changed his mind. Maybe he could have an intelligent conversation with the woman and appease her anger. "Okay. I'll be right back." Before going to the kitchen, he opened another TV table and set it in front of his recliner. When he returned with his plate and utensils and a steaming cup of black coffee, Mims was pouring cream into hers. He watched her sip the brew with closed eyes and a look of bliss.
"So, you're a coffee lover? I remember you ordered a fancy drink at Java Junction." The minute he said the words, he wished he could take them back. Her eyes narrowed and she started to look angry all over again. He walked to stand in front of her and dish food from her plate onto his.
When he started to step back, she said tightly. "Please take all the pancakes. I'm not much of a pancake eater."
Rather than act the nice guy and refuse, he shrugged and relieved her plate of all the flapjacks, most of the butter, and all of the syrup. He walked back to his recliner and settled into it, adjusting the TV table.
After eating for several minutes in silence, with Mims picking at her eggs and hash browns, he decided to clear the air. "Look Mims–"
She narrowed her eyes.
"Look Sarah, I think we should start fresh. I want you to enjoy your stay here and anything I can do to help with your research, just let me know. As for what happened at Java Junction, I'm truly sorry. I was just playing the game your boss started. If I'd known it would upset you, I would have kept my foot out of my mouth. So, like I said earlier, can we call a truce?"
Sage watched Sarah sip her coffee and then cradle the cup in her hands. "I'd like to ask you something, Mr. Tanner."
Sage held her gaze. "Shoot."
"Did you actually think I would be flattered by your attention?"
"I didn't think about it one way or the other. Like I said, I was playing along with the charade."
"Perhaps it was a game to you, but I saw it as demeaning and cruel."
Sage bit down on his back teeth. The woman was impossible. What did she want him to do, grovel on the floor? Inhaling to keep himself from saying something that would only antagonize the situation, he said, "What's done is done. Will you accept my apology, or at least call a truce so you can enjoy your stay here?"
She sipped her coffee again, looked down into the cup as if seeking an answer there, and then back at him. "Okay, I'll call a truce and think about accepting your apology."
Sage just about lost it. Holding his temper at bay, he inclined his head and sipped his own coffee, staring at her over the edge of the cup.
* * *
The blue fire in Sage's eyes had Sarah's heart thumping double time. She'd made him mad with her refusal to out-and-out accept his apology and she could see his jaw clench. Unable to hold his gaze any longer because of the blush suffusing her face, she looked away first. To cover her embarrassment, she straightened the throw pillow and lay back down, positioning her foot on the other pillow again. She closed her eyes and willed her erratic response to Sage Tanner to go away. She heard movement and opened her eyes again. He was l
ifting her tray.
"Would you like me to put a movie on? We don't get good television reception and I'm not interested in cable. Julie and I buy movies we like. We have a pretty good library."
"No, I think I'll skip the movies for now. I'll just rest."
He shrugged. "If that's what you want. I have to leave now." He pointed to a table with a landline telephone. "If you need anything, just dial 'five' and press send. It'll speed dial Curley in the dorm kitchen. He can track me down. I'll be back at lunchtime. I'll see if I can get him to go easier on the food."
Sarah smiled in spite of herself and then watched Sage leave the room. She heard a door shut at the back of the house. After fifteen minutes of trying to relax, she only felt increasingly restless and wished she'd let him put a movie on. Sitting up, she reached for her crutches and slowly hobbled to the bedroom. Grabbing her laptop sitting atop the vanity, she clumsily hauled it and herself back to the couch. Reclining again with more pillows behind her back, she positioned her laptop on one raised knee and turned it on. Calling up the file for Dream Kisses, she wondered if she would feel inspired to write. As soon as her fingers hit the keyboard, the words flowed and she lost herself in her romance.
Chapter 7: Orientation
Jacob only half listened to the rancher guy describe the day's events. Surreptitiously he glanced at the twins. Which was Mindy and which was Mandy? Except for one of them wearing a skin-tight pink tank top and the other a purple one, they looked exactly alike.
He looked back at his empty breakfast plate. He hadn't intended to eat much. He was rebelling against being forced to come on this stupid vacation, but the pancakes had been so fluffy they'd melted in his mouth. There'd even been real syrup, not the fake stuff. The cook, a bald-headed old fart named Curley, cooked better than his Mom. The twin sitting across from him caught his eye and winked, then looked back at the owner of the ranch. She kinda leaned forward, which made her boobs spill out even more over the low cut tank. Jacob reconsidered the vacation, maybe watching the twins would distract him for the two weeks he was stuck in Cowshit, U.S.A. He glanced at his father's glower expression. He doubted even a nice set of boobs could distract his father from business obligations.
The owner spoke. "Okay, now that everyone's finished breakfast, Newt's takin' ya'll on a tour of the ranch. Remember, safety first. After visiting the outbuildings and corrals, we'll introduce you to the horses and begin riding lessons. Later today, my daughter, Julie, will demonstrate trick riding for you."
Jacob watched his mother touch his dad's sleeve and smile. His dad gave her one of his sour looks before sending another one in Jacob's direction. The man could be a real asshole—like last night when he'd found out there was no cell phone reception. Jacob secretly hid a smile—his dad without a cell phone. He might have to pay attention to his wife and son. Yeah, right.
* * *
Sarah grinned at her laptop. She'd moved it to the TV table for ease of writing. She'd written over three thousand words and they just kept coming. She'd even done a search and replace and changed the name of her hero. She reread her love scene.
Gage's heart exploded in a blast of passion. Unable to extinguish his desire, he jerked Tarah against his naked chest. Her soft breasts, crushed against his wildly beating heart, only made it roar like a runaway train. When her lips parted in shock, he covered them with his. She moaned into his mouth and pushed against his chest half-heartedly. In a gesture of defeat, she lightly touched her tongue to his. He reached for her…"
"From the smile on your face, that must be some damn good reading."
Sarah jerked her head up. Sage stood directly in front of her holding a tray of food. She slammed her laptop shut.
"Are you working on your new book, Dream Kisses? Is that the book you're doing research on? It's a western, right?"
Sarah felt her face burn. Sage's questions embarrassed her but she wasn't about to let him know that. "Uh, yes. It's a contemporary western."
He motioned toward the TV table and her blush deepened when she realized he was waiting for her to remove the laptop. Quickly she lifted the computer and set it next to her. Sage placed her tray on the table. "How's the ankle feeling?"
She had been so into her story it wasn't until he asked that she felt the dull ache. "The sharp pain has lessened."
"Good. I'm glad to hear that." He pulled the other TV table in front of his chair. Sarah lifted the plastic plate cover and her eyes rounded. Sage chuckled. "That's for both of us. There's an extra bowl under yours."
"This is more food than I can eat in a week." She handed her bowl of stew to him. "I'll just eat the salad and put some in the extra bowl for you."
He shook his head, "The stew's fine for me. But are you sure you don't want some? Curley's gonna want to know if you liked it and the cornbread."
Sarah eyed the food. It smelled delicious. "Well, how about you give me a small portion. I don't want to offend...er…Curley."
Sage spooned some stew into the extra bowl and slid one of the butter-dripping cornbreads on top of it. Inwardly, she groaned and calculated calories. She waited until he'd settled into his chair before taking her first bite—heaven in a spoon. He watched her and smiled. "Curley's a great cook."
"How long has he worked for you?" she asked with her mouth full.
"Over five years. The cook before him burned just about everything and lasted two weeks. Before that was Maude. My father hired her and she worked here for twenty years." A smiled curved his lips and Sarah's heart tripped.
"What happened to her?"
His smile turned into an out-and-out grin. "She robbed the cradle." At Sarah's questioning look, he said, "She married a cowboy twenty years younger and they headed to Alaska to pan gold."
At Sarah's expression, Sage laughed heartily; a deep laugh that gave her goose bumps.
"I'm not kidding. Occasionally, we get a letter or postcard from her. She's pushing eighty now and still head-over-heels for her cowboy. They struck a vein and got rich, but live in a tiny cabin in the wilds."
Sarah looked impressed. "That's a great story."
Sage winked. "You have my permission to use it in one of your books; just change her name."
She felt her face burn again. The wink Sage had given her turned her to mush. Enough! This guy is being nice because you're a paying guest. Remember he's a jerk!
Sage nodded toward her laptop. "So, you wanna read what you were grinning about when I walked in?"
Sarah choked on the iced tea she'd just swallowed.
"You okay?"
She grabbed her napkin. "Yes, yes. Swallowed down the wrong pipe."
"It's that good, huh. I'd like to hear it."
Sarah regained her composure. "It's in rough draft and I don't allow anyone to read what I've written until it goes through my editor." She lied and hoped he believed her.
He looked disappointed. "Okay, guess I'll have to wait to see what I'm up to until the book comes out."
She looked at him questioningly.
"Since I'm the guy on the cover, I figure it's me doing the stuff in the book," he joked.
Mortified, Sarah speared a lettuce leaf and popped it in her mouth. Searching for anything to get her mind off Gage being Sage, she asked, "What time does Julie get home from school?"
"Changing the subject, huh?" Sage questioned low. When she didn't respond he went with the flow. "Tooty's mom drops her off about two-thirty since this is summer school. At four, she'll be demonstrating trick riding for the guests. She's really good. Her horse, Precious Pudding, is a real show off and they've won quite a few rodeo ribbons."
In spite of herself, Sarah laughed. "How did the horse get the name Precious Pudding?"
Sage grinned. "When Julie was four, she asked me what the word 'precious' meant and I explained that it was something you loved and enjoyed. That night, her mother served pudding for desert and Julie looked at me and said, 'precious pudding'. We thought it was so cute we named our new foal after it. Julie
and the foal bonded, so we gave the horse to her."
"You certainly have great stories, Sage." Sarah wanted to kick herself for calling him by his first name.
He looked at her for a long moment and then smiled and stood. "Guess I better get back to ranching. Just so you know, supper's around six." He gathered her tray and his dishes and left the room. Sarah groaned. She wouldn't make that mistake again. He was Mr. Tanner, to her. Placing her laptop back on the TV table, she sighed and wished he'd elaborated more on Julie's mother.
Chapter 8: Lasso Lessons
Sage strode toward the corral where Newt was demonstrating the art of roping. He'd stayed longer with Sarah than he'd intended. He quirked a half smile remembering her blushes. Whatever she'd written, she sure didn't want him to know. It had to be all that romance stuff chick-lit novels were famous for—give him an action suspense or traditional western any day. When he remembered her delight over Precious Pudding's story, his smile turned into a big grin. She'd called him by his first name and then tried to cover her mistake. Since meeting Sarah, he'd been wondering if he'd lost his touch with women. All his life he'd had an easy way with them, and most times had to fight them off. Sarah had been the exception.
Sage rounded the corner of the barn and almost bumped into the twins. He did a quick sidestep. "Uh, excuse me ladies."
They giggled in unison and the one in the pink-T pouted, "We were wondering where you were. Are you going to watch the man swing the rope?"
"That I am. Have you had your turns?"
The pink-T twin looked him up and down. "Now what turn might that be, Sage." The purple-T sister stepped close enough for her boobs to graze his chest.
Shit. He'd stepped right into that innuendo.
Quickly sidestepping again, he pretended stupidity. "Newt's waiting for me. He's the best roper in the county and he won't rest until everyone's had a turn ropin'." Puffing air, he hurried away from the bimbos.