Falling for the Rancher

by Tanya Michaels

  Vicki frowned, her forehead wrinkling into lines of confusion. “What do you mean she doesn’t ride ‘anymore’? I feel like I’m missing something.”

  “I rode when I was a kid,” Sierra said. “Briefly. But not since then.”

  “Not a problem,” Vicki said. “Jarrett will teach you. Who better? He gives lessons professionally! And you guys can work on that this weekend while Aaron is here, which will give us more time alone.” She nodded her head, looking pleased with herself.

  Riding lessons? Something that sounded embarrassingly close to a whimper escaped Sierra. She coughed again, hoping to cover it.

  “I don’t think Sierra’s interested in learning to ride,” Jarrett said. “But—”

  “Wait. Are you scared of horses?” Vicki asked incredulously. “That’s crazy!”

  “Not so crazy if you fall off one and fracture your spine,” Sierra said self-consciously.

  “I just meant, the idea of you being afraid of anything is crazy. I can’t wrap my head around it,” Vicki said. “You’re...you know.”

  Sierra smiled, touched by the flattery. “Thank you. But everyone’s scared of something.”

  “Uh-huh.” Vicki arched an eyebrow. “So your plan is to wuss out.”

  “Can we go back to the part where you were implying I’m an awesome badass?”

  “When was the last time you let a patient wuss out of something?” Vicki challenged.

  “Um...” Sierra glanced toward the head of the table, seeking Jarrett’s input. He’d been pretty supportive throughout the conversation. But now he had a hand over his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh as Vicki continued.

  “Isn’t the expression that if you fall off a horse, the best thing to do is get right back in the saddle?”

  “Not when you break your spine!” Sierra hadn’t been physically able to ride for almost a year. After that, there was no chance her parents would have risked letting their precious daughter give it another chance. By the time she was an adult, she’d long since lost any urge to try again.

  “But you’re all healed now,” Vicki persisted. “I tell you what—if you get on a horse, I won’t give you any crap for a straight week.”

  “Counteroffer—you don’t give me any crap for a week, and I won’t smother you with your own pillow.”

  “You really shouldn’t threaten to kill me in front of a witness.”

  “Who, your brother? I’m not worried about him turning me in. He’s easily bribed with apple cobbler.”

  “I’m also partial to blackberry,” Jarrett chimed in.

  “Come on, Sierra. Please.”

  Sierra tossed her hands up in exasperation. “Why are you even pushing this? I’ll talk to Manuel about coming out to the ranch and working with you, so—”

  “I’m pushing because it’s what you would do. If there was a challenge someone didn’t think they could overcome, you would harangue and nag and cajole until they succeeded.”

  “She’s got you there,” Jarrett agreed.

  “Damn.” She sat back in her chair, knowing that Vicki was right.

  “So.” He grinned at her. “What time tomorrow should I expect you for your first lesson?”

  Chapter Ten

  Sierra was sitting next to Vicki’s mat on the living room floor, helping her rotate through foot positions as she lay on her back, when the dogs began barking wildly to signal that someone was approaching the house.

  “Aaron!” Vicki’s body jerked as if her first impulse was to sit straight up.

  “Easy, there. Slow down so you don’t cause yourself any new injuries. Let’s get you into the chair. Then I can go open the door.”

  Vicki nodded. “You let him in, and I can freshen up. I’m sure my hair’s a mess.” She grimaced as they worked together to shift her position.

  “Are you in pain?”

  “No. Just hoping Jarrett isn’t close enough to the house to accost Aaron. He’d better not be giving him the lecture about sleeping on the fold-out couch and how there will be ‘dire consequences’ if he’s found in my bedroom.”

  “He’s just looking out for you because he loves you.”

  “You have brothers, right?”

  “Three.”

  “And did you appreciate them interfering in your love life?”

  “They never tried. Probably because I was more likely to deck a guy for making a move than any of them were.”

  As much as her brothers cared about her, they favored less direct forms of confrontation. If a man seriously wronged her, Kyle would probably buy up the city block where the offender lived and have him evicted; David would look for a lawsuit angle. Michael would just report the incident to their father and let him handle it.

  She’d almost got Vicki into her bedroom when the doorbell rang. Sierra hadn’t given much thought to what Aaron would look like, but the blond boy on the front porch wasn’t what Vicki’s rhapsodizing had led her to expect. Sierra knew he was a year older than Vicki, but he was so baby-faced that it probably took him a week to develop a five o’clock shadow. He was taller than Sierra—as was the average fourth grader—but about the same height as Vicki.

  “Well, hello there.” He gave her an appraising look over the rims of his sunglasses. “You must be Vicki’s nurse.”

  “Physical therapist. And you are?” It was petty of her, pretending she hadn’t heard plenty of gushing about him, but the kid’s smirking expression goaded her.

  He scowled. “Aaron Dunn. I’m expected.”

  “Come on in.” She opened the door wider, and he entered in a cloud of expensive body spray. “Vicki will be out in a minute. Can I get you something to drink?” She stifled the urge to offer him a snack, not wanting to sound like a suburban mom serving after-school cookies.

  They went to the kitchen, making small talk about the drive. She admitted that she was still struggling to find her way around Cupid’s Bow, but he was unwilling to bond over the town’s lack of road signs.

  Instead, he gave her a patronizing smile. “Guess not everyone’s born with my innate sense of direction.”

  Work with me, kid. I’m trying to like you on Vicki’s behalf. To be fair, if Sierra were nineteen, she might be able to see Aaron’s appeal. He was cute in a generic, glossy sort of way and, to his credit, an attentive enough boyfriend that he’d driven several hours to spend the weekend with Vicki. But compared to someone like Jarrett, with his rugged appeal and slightly shaggy hair and calloused hands—

  “Aaron!” Vicki entered the room, her face glowing with happiness.

  He gave her a wide grin. “Every time I see you, I can’t believe you’re that pretty and so smart. The total package.” To Sierra he said, “She’s the only reason I passed history last semester,” a confession that made her like him more.

  They kissed hello, but Vicki disentangled herself before Sierra started to feel too much like a voyeur. “Sierra, I got a text from Jarrett while you were answering the door. He’s ready for you down at the stable.”

  Sierra was 100 percent certain that Jarrett had not instigated the text exchange. Rather, Vicki had probably sent him a message that said “Horse-riding lesson! Now!” in order to get Sierra out of the house.

  “Sure. Just let me get my boots.”

  “Which leaves you and I alone.” Aaron brushed back a strand of Vicki’s hair, smiling down at her. “To study history.”

  “Don’t ‘study’ too hard,” Sierra said. “I’ll be back in a little while to make lunch.” With that, she hurried out of the room before the heat of Vicki’s glare burned holes in her shirt.

  * * *

  JARRETT SAT BALANCED atop the wooden corral fence, head tilted back so he could enjoy the sunshine on his face. It was one of those sublimely perfect days where he felt blessed not to ha
ve an office job.

  At his sister’s imperious text, he’d led one of the gentler horses into the fenced area and tied her lead to the railing with a quick-release knot. He’d been waiting only a minute or so when Sierra came over the small hill that separated the front yard from the acres of pasture beyond. The sun glinted off her red hair, making it even more fiery and dramatic than usual. He loved watching her move; her confidence and purpose was just shy of feminine swagger. It was impressive that she carried herself with such self-assurance even when coming to face a horse, which she’d done her best to avoid.

  As their gazes met, he lifted his hand in a wave. “You look good in jeans. Very good.” Where had that come from? He’d meant to say hi. “I’m, ah, used to seeing you in skirts.”

  Her smile was wry. “Can’t ride a horse in a skirt, though, right?”

  He hopped down off the fence. “I don’t actually plan to put you on a horse today. I thought we’d start off slow, just basic grooming to help foster a bond. No rush.”

  “Right.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “I vaguely recall that you’re against rushing—something about not getting good results.”

  She was so pretty when she smiled like that, carefree and a little bit naughty. Too bad they wouldn’t be riding today—helping her into the saddle would have provided an excellent excuse to touch her. He repressed a sigh. Being noble sucked.

  Yeah, well, you promised your sister. And yourself. He gestured toward the mare waiting inside the fenced area. “That’s Shiloh. She’s a sweetheart. I know you’ve had some experience with horses before, but since it’s been so long, I figured we’d start with the absolute basics. You want to approach horses from the front, preferably on the left side. If the ears are back, you’re not welcome. That’s not usually a problem with Shiloh. Approach slowly, saying hi to her, and let her smell your hand. I don’t have any treats with me, but she loves being brushed, so this whole experience will be a treat for her.”

  “Glad it will be fun for someone,” Sierra muttered.

  “You can do this.”

  “Damn straight. No way am I going to have Vicki heckling me all night for chickening out. So let’s get this over with.”

  “That’s the spirit.” He opened the gate for her and led her inside the paddock. “Don’t forget to talk to her. The calmer you are, the calmer the horse will be.” Although, frankly, Shiloh’s default mode was pretty mellow.

  “Hey, there, Shiloh. Nice to meet you.” She slowly raised her hand for the horse to snuffle. “Please don’t chomp any of my fingers off.”

  He tried unsuccessfully to smother a laugh.

  Sierra glanced over her shoulder at him. “Have you seen her teeth? They’re huge! Which figures. She’s huge in general.”

  Seeing Sierra next to the horse was an almost comical reminder of her height. Her personality was so larger-than-life that it was easy to forget how petite she was.

  A bag of grooming supplies hung over a nearby post, and Jarrett reached inside for the currycomb. “We’re going to start with this to loosen dirt. You want to brush over the muscled parts of her body—stay away from the legs and face—in a circular motion.”

  Sierra slid her hands through the strap on the comb and, inhaling deeply, took a step closer to the horse. Jarrett stood in front of Shiloh, prepared to help calm her if necessary.

  “I must seem idiotic to you,” she said, “getting shaky over brushing a perfectly sweet horse who’s standing still when you made a living by climbing on the backs of broncs who were actively trying to throw you.”

  “You know I don’t think you’re an idiot. Far from it.” It would be so much easier to live under the same roof with Sierra if he had a more negative opinion of her. He could criticize her for being stubborn, he supposed. Or temperamental. Except that those qualities also made her determined and passionate. She might not be perfect, but she was a remarkable woman.

  He turned away before he did something ill-advised—like telling her she was as extraordinary as she was beautiful. “Now we move on to the hard brush.” He stepped closer to give her the brush. She smelled like cinnamon, from the French toast she’d made them for breakfast, and sunlight—sweet, warm, tantalizing.

  Even though he could have talked her through the process as he had with the currycomb, he gave in to temptation and closed his fingers over hers, standing very close as he guided her hand. “Short, firm strokes,” he said, demonstrating.

  “Like this?”

  “Yeah. That’s good.” Jarrett had taught dozens of people about caring for horses. Instructing Sierra should be automatic and perfunctory, not arousing.

  Jarrett had always been very goal-oriented. It was one of the things that made him a winner in the ring. With past lovers, he’d focused on the act of sex itself, on making sure his partner enjoyed herself, but he’d overlooked how sexy even seemingly platonic moments could be. Maybe because you never bothered to have platonic moments. When a woman had demonstrated her interest in him, he hadn’t spent weeks courting her before seducing her. In some ways, the relationship with Sierra was one of the most personal he’d ever had. He wasn’t used to planning to-do lists with someone else, standing side by side as they did dishes, noting how adorably sleepy she looked at the end of a long day. Even arguing was new. His sexual encounters were usually amiable and conflict-free. Shallow.

  When he’d vowed earlier this summer to change his ways, guilt had been a major motivator. Yet now he found himself craving a different kind of connection with a woman for reasons that had nothing to do with regret or mistakes. He felt as if he’d caught a glimpse of something in the distance—something rare and special and worth working toward.

  “Now what?” Sierra asked.

  Damned if I know. Then it registered that she was asking about equine grooming, not his sappy dating epiphany. “Uh, soft brush, to smooth the coat.”

  Once she was finished, he showed her how to care for the hooves, although he did it himself—partly in case Shiloh got antsy and partly to give himself something to think about other than dating. Even if he hadn’t promised Vicki that nothing would happen between him and the physical therapist, Sierra was leaving Cupid’s Bow in a couple of weeks. The thrill of a short-term fling with no future was exactly what the old Jarrett would have wanted.

  “You did really well,” he said once they were finished and Sierra was affectionately patting Shiloh’s neck. “How about we follow the same routine tomorrow, and then by Sunday the two of you should be comfortable enough with each other that we can go rid—”

  His words were cut off by the sound of an engine, and they both turned to see Aaron’s truck roaring down the ranch’s dirt road toward the main street.

  “What do you suppose that’s about?” Jarrett asked.

  Sierra met his gaze, her expression perplexed. “We were done here anyway, right? I’ll get back to the house. See you for lunch?”

  “Okay.” But as he led Shiloh back to her stall, he couldn’t help wondering about Aaron’s speedy exit. Had Vicki been in the truck with him? It was possible the two of them were going to eat lunch in town and the kid was just driving too fast to show off. But if she hadn’t been with him, why was the visitor who’d just arrived leaving in such a hurry?

  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything until he knew Vicki was okay, he tried texting her. When she still hadn’t responded a few minutes later, he headed for the house. No doubt he was overreacting, but this way he could at least lend Sierra a hand with lunch.

  As soon as he entered the mudroom, he heard his sister’s raised voice.

  “—left me for her. But who can blame him, really? She can walk,” Vicki said, her tone thick with self-loathing. “And dance. And...do other things.”

  He clenched his fists. No wonder the loser had fled the Twisted R. He’d probably known Jarrett
would want to pummel him.

  Not bothering to remove his boots, he stomped into the kitchen, where Sierra sat next to his sister, a consoling arm around her shoulders. “I say good riddance,” he growled. The sight of Vicki’s puffy, tearstained face made him seriously consider a road trip to the college campus. “I’m sorry he hurt you, but that jerk never deserved you. You will find someone who—”

  “Has a fetish for girls in wheelchairs?” Vicki asked hollowly.

  Raw helplessness scraped at his insides. He hated seeing her in pain. “You won’t be in the wheelchair forever, Vic. You’ll meet other guys, better guys. You’ll fall in love again, and—”

  “What the hell do you know about love? Have you even gone out twice in a row with the same woman, or is the ‘relationship’ over as soon as you throw the condom away?”

  “Victoria!” He sucked in a breath, staggered by the crass words and the hostility in her expression.

  “Vicki, that was uncalled for.” Sierra’s tone was soft but rebuking. “You have every right to be upset, but Jarrett’s not the bad guy. He hasn’t done—”

  “You have zero idea what my big brother has and has not done. The women he’s slept with. The promises he’s broken.” Vicki’s voice cracked. “M-men suck. Even the ones y-you think...you think you can c-count on.”

  Sierra bit her lip, looking indecisive as she glanced between brother and sister. “Maybe I should go and let the two of you talk?”

  “I have nothing to say.” Fresh tears spilled down Vicki’s face. “I want to be alone.”

  “Okay.” Sierra rose slowly. “Do you want any help getting back to your—”

  “No. Just get out. Please.” The word ended on a wail that knifed through Jarrett.

  He was only distantly aware of Sierra’s hand on his arm, tugging him into the living room.

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered once they were around the corner. “I won’t leave her alone for long before I check on her.”

  “Thanks.” It would take time, but he believed Sierra would be able to help Vicki through this. In the week she’d been here—had it been only a week?—the physical therapist had earned Vicki’s trust and respect. They didn’t need him in the house, just another male who’d let his sister down. “I should get back to work.”