The Cowboy's Autumn Fall (Grass Valley Cowboys Book 4)

by Shanna Hatfield

  After lunch, everyone seemed to wander off their own direction and Brice asked Bailey if she’d like to go for a walk. He figured he was safe from too many prying eyes because Sierra was playing with Cass and some of the younger kids, Tess insisted Travis spend some time with his legs elevated so they went inside to watch a movie and Ben headed back to Portland.

  Bailey hesitated only a moment before agreeing to go and they strolled down the hill toward the pond again. Still embarrassed over her previous evening’s behavior, Bailey made sure to keep a respectable distance away from Brice as they walked.

  Even without the white lights twinkling and a blanket of stars overhead, the setting was still quite lovely. Spying a bench beneath a willow tree, Bailey wandered that direction and sat down.

  The fluttering in her stomach, the tingling in her toes and the fuzzy feeling in her head were sensations completely foreign to her. Deciding to blame it on her hangover, she ignored the charge of electricity that shot through her when Brice sat beside her and took her hand in his.

  “So, Bailey, do you recall coming down here last night?” Brice asked, leaning back against the bench and stretching out his legs.

  “There is some degree of recollection of walking down here and studying fixed luminary points in the night sky,” Bailey said, sitting primly on the bench. She remembered far more than stargazing. There was hugging and kissing and the overwhelming desire for Brice to hold her as close as humanly possible.

  With his scent permeating her senses and his warmth against her side, the unreasonable longing to repeat the experience swept over her with full force. As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted him to kiss her again, to see if the feel of his lips against hers was as magical as she remembered or if it was just a lingering part of her dreams.

  “Do you always talk like that?” Brice asked, with a teasing grin, assuming her formal, scientific way of speaking came from her profession. According to Sierra, Bailey was all work and no play.

  Brice had plans to change that.

  “Like what?” Bailey asked, knowing she sounded like a stodgy professor most of the time, but it served her well in her career. People took you seriously when you could talk academic circles around them. A tall, fit young woman with honey-gold curls, striking blue eyes, and a penchant for fashion had a hard time getting people to take her seriously unless she could intimidate them a little.

  “Like you’re giving a lecture at Harvard.”

  “I’ve only done that once,” she said, distracted by the way Brice’s muscles rippled beneath the cotton fabric of his shirt every time he moved his arms.

  “Seriously?” Brice asked, somewhat in awe. He’d managed to get a two-year degree in construction management before he left school for good and began working construction full time. He spent evenings and weekends working on the family ranch and if he had any spare time, he liked to make handcrafted furniture and carve wood.

  “Why would I say something that wasn’t true?”

  “I didn’t mean…never mind,” Brice said, so enraptured with Bailey he forgot to be frustrated by her literal take on his comments. Settling more comfortably on the seat the Thompson brothers referred to as the kissing bench, he placed one arm behind Bailey while the other kept her hand captive in his. “I want to know all about you. Tell me everything there is to know about Bailey Bishop.”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” Bailey said, staring at her hand clasped in Brice’s larger one. She noticed scars and calluses on his fingers along with an undeniable strength, yet he cradled her hand so tenderly, like it was something he was afraid of breaking. She herself had big hands for a woman with long capable fingers. Her nails were usually chipped and her cuticles were ragged enough to give any good manicurist nightmares for a week. Such was the price of digging in the dirt and rocks for a living.

  “Sure there is. Let’s start with your full name. How tall are you? How old are you? What kind of food do you like? Those kinds of questions,” Brice prompted.

  “Bailey Lorinda Bishop. I was born twenty-seven years and fourteen days ago. I stand five feet, seven point nine-three inches tall,” Bailey said, rattling off information with scientific precision. “Like any female, I refuse to share my weight. I like a wide variety of foods, but I have a particular fondness for anything with pumpkin. Fall is my favorite season and I enjoy reading books about ancient history. I am hopeless at idle chit-chat, I dislike disorganization and someday I hope my work will be remembered for making a breakthrough contribution to civilization.”

  For a guy who was the life of the party, considered the sports page and comic strip in-depth reading, and liked to live in the spur of the moment, he could see a few potential issues to overcome if he wanted to have a relationship with Bailey. Not one to give up easily, Brice was ready to rise to the challenge. This was, after all, the girl he planned to marry.

  Watching the sun highlight streaks of pure gold in her hair, Brice decided the summer dress Bailey wore was a perfect complement to her golden skin and amazing blue eyes. Just gazing into their depths made him think of a tropical beach.

  Taking a deep breath, he realized Bailey smelled like the funny green tea his mom was always drinking with a hint of something sweet thrown in just to further ensnare his senses. He’d never before found anything enticing about the scent of tea, but Bailey’s unique fragrance was definitely making him rethink his opinion.

  Itching with the desire to bury his hands in her hair and taste the sweetness of her kisses again, Brice tried to keep his thoughts from getting too far off track. He wasn’t sure how many of the kisses they’d shared last night had been because Bailey genuinely liked him or because she was drunk. Brice gave himself a mental scolding for not figuring out her drunken state sooner.

  “What do you do for fun?” Brice asked Bailey, pulling his gaze from hers as he looked out at the pond and the cattle grazing in the distance. Although many people thought Grass Valley was somewhere near the end of the earth, Brice loved the peaceful openness of the community where he grew up.

  “Fun?” Bailey asked, repeating the word like she hadn’t heard it before. It took her a moment to think of what she did do for fun.

  When she wasn’t working at a dig site, writing a paper or in a lab studying fossils, she read papers written by her peers, traveled to new fossil sites, lectured about her discoveries, and studied past American civilizations. She rarely spent time with her family, had no real friends and other than occasionally sitting down to embroider or crochet as a way to be productive while still letting her mind wander over fossils and facts, she didn’t have a hobby.

  The one thing that kept her from being a complete geek was her love of clothes. Despite her work, despite her scientific approach to life, the one thing Bailey did enjoy that she considered frivolous was shopping for cute clothes. She had a weakness for anything that resembled fashions from the forties and fifties, especially shoes, but she sure wasn’t admitting that to Brice. She barely knew the man, even if she’d thrown herself at him the previous evening.

  That thought made her face flush red as she sat upright, adjusting the skirt of her dress.

  “Whatever you do for fun, it sure makes the roses bloom in those pretty cheeks of yours,” Brice teased, watching color flame in her face. “Want to let me in on the secret?”

  “I most certainly do not,” Bailey said, feeling defensive. Brice somehow managed to throw her off kilter. No one else did that and Bailey didn’t like it one bit. She liked order and organization and predictability. Brice was about the most unpredictable person she’d ever encountered. According to information Sierra gleaned from Travis, he and Brice did crazy things like race cars, ride bulls and windsurf.

  “Aw, come on, sugar, there must be something that made you blush like that. Something that you enjoy doing,” Brice said, giving her a smile so full of white teeth and charm, she felt lightheaded.

  “I assure you beyond some occasional embroidery work and a rare shopping tri
p, I am completely and utterly devoted to my career,” Bailey said, sounding too matter-of-fact even to her own ears. What really sounded like fun, what she would die before acknowledging out loud, was kissing Brice. Repeatedly.

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to wonder what naughty things you’re stitching because you’ve surely got a red face, sugar.”

  Jumping to her feet, Bailey put her hands on her hips and gave Brice a sharp look. “Mr. Morgan, I’ll have you know just because of one evening of inebriated shenanigans, you have no right to assume that I do anything as questionable as embroider items of a wicked nature. I thank you for your care last evening, for your consideration today, and will now bid you goodbye.”

  Bailey turned to march back up the hill but before she’d taken three steps, she felt herself swept off her feet and into Brice’s arms.

  Caught completely off guard, Bailey gasped and wrapped her arms around Brice’s neck, her face just inches from his.

  “You’re just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen when you’re all riled up,” Brice said, sitting on the bench with her across his lap. “If the sparks shooting from your eyes could cause bodily harm, I reckon I’d be plenty scorched.”

  “Indeed, Mr. Morgan,” Bailey said breathlessly. She was surprised she could even form words with the way her traitorous body and emotions were betraying her. Her heart was galloping wildly, her stomach felt weightless and she wanted, more than anything in the world for Brice to kiss her.

  Common sense demanded she slap Brice’s handsome face, march up the hill and catch the first plane back to Denver. Much to Bailey’s dismay, her common sense had, during the course of the last twenty-four hour time period, completely disappeared only to be replaced with thoughts and longings absolutely alien to her.

  Attempting to hold herself stiffly away from Brice, it was impossible when her limbs felt languid from his nearness and she was melting against his solid chest.

  “I may be totally wrong, and I’m sure you’ll set me straight in a hurry, but I think you want to kiss me every bit as much as I want to kiss you. Don’t you?” Brice asked, slowing bringing his lips toward hers until only a fraction of space separated them.

  Bailey was in agony. So close, yet not close enough.

  “You have some of the most…imaginative ideas, Mr. Morgan,” Bailey said, leaning back as her eyes locked on Brice’s lips. She noticed the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin and she wanted, so very badly, to feel his lips pressed to hers.

  “I’m just getting started,” Brice said, his voice husky and deep as he took Bailey’s lips captive in a tempting kiss. Electricity shot between them and ignited the fire that had been smoldering since he first said hello to her at the wedding.

  Her lips beneath his were every bit as luscious as he remembered from last night. Except now it was Bailey, not the alcohol, returning his passion.

  “Brice,” Bailey whispered, losing herself in his arms and his kiss. Pressing closer to him, she felt his hands sliding across her back. Raising his head, she pulled him back for another searing kiss, hearing him whisper her name as he trailed his hand along her leg.

  Where things would have gone from there, neither one would know because Cass chose that precise moment to run down the hill and interrupt their afternoon interlude.

  “Brice? Where are you?” Cass called looking around and not immediately seeing the couple on the bench beneath the willow tree.

  Startled from their passionate encounter by the sound of the little girl’s voice, Brice nearly dumped Bailey on the grass but managed to grab her before she tumbled off his lap. Staring intently at each other, they were desperately trying to catch their breath along with their ability to think rationally.

  “Brice! Whatcha doing?” Cass asked, running over to the bench with her red curls flying every direction. She leaned against Bailey’s knees where they rested on Brice’s thigh from her position across his lap. Placing a little hand on Brice’s shoulder, Cass gave him a pat. “Uncle Travis said you spent enough time spooning and you should come back to the house.”

  “He did?” Brice said, making a mental note to be sure and thank Travis later for being so helpful this afternoon. He’d remember to make sure Cass interrupted Travis the next time he wanted to be alone with Tess.

  “Yep. What’s spooning?” Cass asked, looking at Bailey. “Why are you on Brice’s lap? How come your face is all red? Did you get sunburned? My mama has some gel stuff she put on me when I got sunburned. Want me to get you some?”

  “Thank you, Cass,” Bailey said, getting off Brice’s lap and taking Cass’s hand, starting back toward the house. “I don’t have a sunburn, although I’m feeling a bit warm, but thank you for your kind offer to help. I think you should ask Brice all about spooning. I’m sure he’d love to explain it to you.”

  Bailey sent a saucy smile over her shoulder at Brice.

  Brice grinned back at her, loving the playful look on her face. He decided to walk a few steps behind the girls, the better to watch Bailey. So far, he wasn’t disappointed with the view.

  Cass turned to look at him and started in with more questions. “What’s spooning, Brice? Huh? Do you have spoons? Is it a game? Can I play? Will you teach me? Can my friend Ashley come play, too? Do you have fancy spoons? I’ve got pink tea party spoons with fairies on them. Will that work? Huh, Brice?”

  Swiping his hand over his face, he rolled his eyes and caught up with Bailey and Cass. Taking the little girl’s hand in his, Bailey held Cass’ other hand as she took a few running steps and swung between them with a giggle. Leave it to Travis to give Cass an old-fashioned term for kissing, then expect someone else to tell her what it meant.

  “I really think you should ask Uncle Travis to explain that game to you, kiddo.”

  Chapter Three

  “'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.”

  William Shakespeare

  “What do you mean gone? She can’t be gone!” Brice said, looking over Travis’ shoulder expecting Bailey to suddenly appear. “She promised to go out to dinner with me tonight. She said she wasn’t leaving until Thursday.”

  Blindsided by Bailey’s abrupt departure, the air whooshed out of Brice’s lungs and his legs felt wobbly.

  Pushing Brice down onto a barstool at the kitchen counter, Travis poured him a glass of iced tea and slid it across the counter. Cady was outside grilling chicken, Cass was playing in the barn with the dogs and no one else was in the ranch house at the moment.

  “What happened?” Brice finally asked, tossing his Stetson on the counter and rubbing his hand across his face. “I thought she had an appointment at the fossil beds today?”

  “She did. Bailey borrowed Cady’s car and left early this morning. She rolled back in here just after noon and said she had to leave today. Aunt Mary and Sierra both tried to talk her into staying, but she didn’t seem to hear a word they said. When Sierra reminded her about your date tonight, she got a funny look on her face, but went on with her packing,” Travis said, sitting down at the table and leaning his crutches against the chair next to him. “Uncle Ross went off with the hands this morning to help with wheat harvest, otherwise he may have been able to talk to her.”

  “Dude, she just can’t be gone,” Brice said, refusing to accept the information his best friend was offering. “She… I…”

  “Look, Brice, I’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. Bailey’s a little… intense when it comes to her work. According to Aunt Mary and Sierra, she has never had a relationship that lasted more than three dates because she keeps her focus entirely on her career. She’s a great girl, but I’m not so sure she’s the right girl for you. Whatever happened at the fossil beds today got her stirred up enough about her job, she felt the need to rush off without even telling you goodbye. Doesn’t that say something to you right there?”

  “Yeah, it does,” Brice said, sliding off the stool and pacing the floor next to Travis. “She’s in love. She just doesn’t wa
nt to admit it.”

  Travis couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped. “Are you crazy, man? You just met her Saturday, today is Monday. You’re talking about a girl who’d rather spend time with a ten thousand year old bug encased in rock than she would with a real live breathing human. She doesn’t do people or relationships and you think she’s in love? With you?”

  Brice glared at Travis and paced a few more steps before sitting on the bar stool again.

  “You’re my best friend, man, and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Travis said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees hoping Brice would be reasonable. “Trying to create something between you and Bailey is insane. You’re mister life-of-the-party. She’s a perpetual party-pooper. It would never work. Did you listen to the way she talks? She sounds like a walking encyclopedia. I know she’s cute, but think about it, dude. She’s just not the right girl for you.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, Trav, but something happened between us.”

  “What exactly did happen between you?” Travis was feeling suddenly protective of his inexperienced cousin, even if she was older than him.

  “Nothing except a few kisses.”

  Travis raised an eyebrow at Brice.

  “Okay. More than a few and they were the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced. Come on, Trav, you and Tess are in love. You know what I’m talking about. That electrified jolt that hits whenever you touch her.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Travis said, his face softening just thinking about Tess. “But if you think Bailey’s going to wake up one day and decide she’s in love with you and come rushing back to Grass Valley, you better think again. You only met her two days ago, bro. Just let this go.”