by A. J. Pine
“Damn it,” he growled.
“Oh my God!” she said. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t. The tree, on the other hand…”
She backed away, giving him room to step forward. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just caught off guard.”
She pulled the blanket tight over her shoulders, and he guessed she was trying to cross her arms.
He rolled his eyes and turned around.
“I’ve got good news and bad news,” she said. “Which do you want first?”
He shook his head. “I can take whatever you want to dish out.”
“Well, you’re a little scratched up,” she said.
“And the good news?”
She laughed nervously. “The bad news is there’s a wasp on your shoulder that must have taken shelter from the rain.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been stung before. I can handle it.” He looked over his shoulder to where the insect perched on his skin, and readied himself to flick it away.
“Don’t!” Delaney shouted. “I’ve been stung before, too, and I went into anaphylactic shock and almost died.”
Well, that sure as heck changed things.
“Do you have one of those—”
“An EpiPen? Yep.” She bent down slowly and picked up her bag. Then she clumsily rifled through it while trying to keep the blanket up. A few seconds later she looked up at him, her eyes wide with horror. “I dumped out my bag on the bed and repacked it so I’d just have the essentials. It must have been buried under something else. I got sidetracked by a phone call, and…” Her eyes shone with the threat of tears.
“Delaney,” he said evenly, “are you telling me that if you get stung while we’re out here, you might die?”
She shook her head and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Actually, it’s pretty much a sure thing, me dying if I get stung and don’t get a shot of adrenaline within about fifteen minutes.”
He carefully cupped his hand over the insect, then moved slowly toward an opening in the tarp. Lightning struck, and although Delaney gasped, she held still as he kept backing closer to the open air.
He was an outdoorsman, knew the importance of wasps when it came to the ecosystem, especially when it came to someone like Anna’s crops, but if he was forced to choose between the little six-legged gal and Delaney, he was choosing Delaney. And here he was worried she’d wind up at the bottom of the swimming hole.
He stepped out into the rain and, as suspected, the wasp stung him as soon as it was startled by the downpour. He wasn’t sure whether or not it survived, but at least Delaney would—for now.
He reentered the shelter and ran a hand through his hair, brushing out some of the wetness.
“Don’t say I never do anything nice for you,” he said, half-teasing, half-angry.
She winced. “Did it sting you?”
He nodded. He wasn’t angry because he’d been stung, though. He was angry at her carelessness. He already had a younger brother to worry about on that front. But his protective instincts kept kicking in whenever it seemed Delaney needed protecting. Now he’d spend the next ten days worrying about whether or not she had her EpiPen on her.
“How could you…” He paced back and forth in their tiny space. “I mean, what would I have done if…Do you have any idea—”
“Hey!” she said, and he halted midpace. “I think I understand the consequences of my actions. And no offense to how awful it would be for you if I had been stung, but at least you’d live to tell the tale.”
He opened his mouth to throw a comeback at her, then thought better of it. She was right. But he was still furious, maybe not at her but at the idea of what could have transpired. His stomach twisted in knots. He couldn’t keep his mom from leaving, couldn’t stop his father’s brain from deteriorating—or the same from possibly happening to him when he was older. Heck, he wasn’t even sure he could keep half of the land he thought he owned. But with Delaney Harper he was completely out of control—and not just when it came to how much he still wanted her.
She raised her brows. “Stumped ya, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, Vegas. I guess you did.”
Chapter Six
It rained for the better part of an hour while they sat huddled under the tarp. After the whole wasp incident, Sam hadn’t seemed much in the mood for trading barbs with Delaney. No matter how she’d tried to push his buttons and defuse the situation, he wouldn’t take the bait.
“Sounds like it’s quieting down out there,” she said after a short period of silence. “Maybe we should head back.” It was either that or she would keep thinking about what they’d almost done in the swimming hole and what she wished they were still doing to while away the time in their little shelter. Though Ace and Barbara Ann looking on would have been less than favorable.
He rose from where they were sitting on the damp blanket—both of them fully clothed now—and stepped outside the tarp.
“Looks pretty good,” he called to her. “The sky, that is. Not sure I can say the same about the trail.”
He came back inside, brow furrowed. “I’m not sure what’s safer: waiting until morning and hoping things dry up a bit, or riding back in the sun when all the life-threatening insects will be back in full swing.”
Delaney rolled her eyes. “I rode all the way here without incident,” she insisted. “Not that I’m looking forward to a night under a tarp with nothing to keep me warm other than…”
Other than body heat.
She swallowed, then cleared her throat. Sam broke eye contact and scratched the back of his neck. His mind had apparently gone to the same naughty place hers had.
“We should go now,” they both blurted at the same time.
“There’s still enough daylight to make it back,” he added. “Plus, Ace and Barbara Ann are seasoned trail riders. They should be able to navigate the terrain well enough. If we pack up now, we’ll make it back in time for dinner.”
Food. God, she was starved.
“You mean to tell me you didn’t add food to your little Boy Scout kit there?” she teased. Wait, what was she doing? If he had food, that would make it easy to stay. And they shouldn’t stay. But if they did…
Nope. Bad idea. Stop thinking with your libido, Delaney.
He shrugged. “If you want to dine on jerky and protein bars, sure. We’re all set.”
She did like jerky. “Do you know what’s on the menu for tonight?” She had to weigh her options. If they were going to slog through the mud just to get back to something like mushroom risotto—because she had a strict policy against fungi—she’d be slightly disappointed.
He raised a brow. “I do believe it’s taco Friday—beef, chicken, and fish. I know it’s not Tuesday, but—”
“Say no more,” Delaney said, zipping her hoodie and throwing her bag over her shoulders. “I’ve always said that Tuesday shouldn’t get to have all the fun. Every day is worthy of tacos.”
They were packed up and on their horses in ten minutes flat. She guessed Sam was as hungry as she was. They had been on their way to working up quite an appetite when the storm hit. Not that she was still thinking about that as Barbara Ann took her first few steps back into the woods. If nothing happened, there wasn’t actually anything to think about. Except her imagination couldn’t let go of what could have happened if there were no storm, which meant she couldn’t steer her brain away from the subject even if she tried.
What would it have felt like to kiss him, to touch him intimately, for him to touch her? An ache spread from her belly out to the very tips of her fingers and toes.
It would have felt good. Really good.
She squirmed in her saddle. This train of thought was going to get her nowhere. Maybe Sam had the right idea when they were headed toward the swimming hole. She started humming, but she could barely hear herself over her horse’s hooves clomping against the terrain. The tree cover had helpe
d save the trail from getting too muddy, but that just meant each of Barbara Ann’s steps was louder than the last.
So she started singing aloud, a song she loved because it reminded her of the trip she and Beth went on with their dad on one of the rare weekends he took off from work. They drove to Arizona for a Diamondbacks game. The Diamondbacks lost, but she hadn’t cared. All she remembered was eating ice cream, drinking her ice-cold soda, and singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” with her dad and sister during the seventh inning stretch.
“Take me out to the ball game,” she started, a little bit louder than her humming but not quite loud enough to drown out Barbara Ann. So she increased the volume a bit more. By the time she got to One! Two! Three strikes you’re out, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. She couldn’t help it. It was just the nature of the song. But it was enough that Ace slowed to a stop, and Sam twisted in his saddle to face her.
“Vegas?” he said, his eyes shaded by his cowboy hat.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t recommend you pursue a career in the musical field.” He tilted his hat up and winked at her.
She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “I’m not that bad.” But she knew she was. Tone-deaf as the day was long no matter what the song or how well she knew it. When her elementary school put on the fourth-grade music class concert for the holidays, she knew well enough to mouth the words. She’d hoped that as her voice matured, so too would her ability to sing on key.
No such luck.
“I don’t mind it,” Sam said. “I can hear the effort along with the missed notes. It’s kind of cute.”
She shooed him along. “Yeah, well, no more cute for you, mister. I want my tacos, so how about you keep on keepin’ on.”
He chuckled and then did as she requested.
It took longer to get back to the ranch than it had taken them to get to the swimming hole, but according to Sam, dinner would still be in full swing for another forty-five minutes. Technically, he said Luis wouldn’t close the kitchen before eight, especially if there were guests lingering. She was a guest, right? And she definitely wanted to linger wherever there was food, but they were both still a little damp and a lot dirty. Not for the first time today, Delaney really needed a shower.
“We should eat now if we want there to be anything left,” Sam said as they exited the stable after getting Ace and Barbara Ann situated. “When Luis makes a taco bar, there are never any leftovers, even if we’re barely booked. They’re that good.” He laughed. “Also, my brother, Colt, and I can eat.”
Her mouth watered. “Can we walk in there like this?” Her jeans and boots were splattered with mud, as were Sam’s. Her borrowed cowboy hat couldn’t hide that her hair was matted and plastered to her cheeks. She guessed his hair was nice and dry, not that it mattered. He looked like he’d stepped off the pages of some country and western magazine. On him the caked-on dirt looked sexy.
He nudged her arm with his elbow. “You forget I own the place. It’s okay to go anywhere in any condition so long as it’s not offensive to the patrons. Looking like we do, we’ve got a story to tell. Stories sell excursions. Excursions show guests there’s more to the ranch than meets the eye, and then they hopefully spread the word so we get more guests.”
She nodded as they started walking toward the dining cabin, her lips pursed as she processed his logic. Then she laughed.
“That’s a crock of you-know-what if I ever heard one,” she said. “Please tell me you have better marketing ideas than that.”
His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not enough that the guests you already have enjoy their stay. Sure, you can ask them to write testimonials you can quote on your website. Maybe you can even get them to write a review on TripAdvisor or some Wild West travel site if it exists. But what about something a little more proactive for the next guests? You need to get out there and advertise for them. Word of mouth and pretty pictures on a website will only get you so far. I’m guessing you aren’t the only guest ranch in California. So what’s going to make someone searching for the ranch experience choose you over someone else?”
Sam stared at her blankly.
She groaned. “There’s a festival happening this week, right? Bounce houses and gourds and all that?”
He nodded, but it was clear he still wasn’t following.
“You got a booth at that festival?” she asked.
“No, but—”
“You got pamphlets someone can pass around, maybe with a coupon for incentive?”
This time he shook his head. “We’ve barely got our feet wet. You think I can afford to start discounting? Like what, a free room?” He raised his brows, and she knew he meant her. Even if the vacation business wasn’t her thing, she grew up in it. She watched all the tricks her parents used to get people in the door of their “upscale” motel. That was what they’d called it in a flyer she and Beth had helped create and pass out to the tourists who would watch the Bellagio’s water show.
She stopped as he was about to pull open the door to the dining hall. She could see the buffet through the window, and it took all her mental resolve not to push him out of the way so she could forget about business and gorge until she was in a food coma.
“I’m not saying you should give away a free room. Also, if you asked—which you haven’t—I’d be confident in saying I’ve done a heck of a lot already to prove myself a worthy boarder. But I’m going to take it a step further and give you some advice free of charge. Talk to whoever runs this little festival and see if you can squeeze in having a booth or table or whatever where you can pass out pamphlets and let people bid on an auction item.”
He slapped his palm against the side of the door, then pointed at her like she’d just said the magic words. “There’s a silent auction to benefit the firehouse. It goes on all week, and then the winners are announced on the final night right before the fireworks.” His brow furrowed. “What am I auctioning?”
“Wait,” she said. “Fireworks? Why?”
He shrugged. “Why not? From what I’ve learned about Meadow Valley, when the town celebrates, it celebrates big.”
“So, fireworks and shutting down for a full week?” she asked.
Sam grinned. “Now you’re catching on.”
Delaney sighed. “Fine. Fireworks in October it is. Back to the auction. How about a weekend stay for two, excursions and meals included?”
He shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off.
“It’s for a good cause, remember?” she said. “That’s good PR too. Plus, if rooms are sitting empty now anyway, shelling out a few hundred or so to bring people in the door is hardly any skin off your back.”
Shoot. Now she was thinking about the skin on his back, how close she was to raking her fingernails against it before the storm. For the love of air-conditioning, they’d skinny-dipped and almost kissed. She was thinking about more than just his back.
Advertise the ranch. Advertise the ranch. Advertise the—
“You okay there, Vegas?”
“Huh? What? Sorry. Lost in thought about…about the amazing brochure we can put together so people can grab one when they bid.”
“You’d help me do that?” he asked, and his earnest brown eyes threatened to melt her into a puddle right then and there.
She shrugged, thankful for the hat that kept half her face in shadow, hoping he hadn’t seen the heat rush to her cheeks. “As long as you have a color printer and some decent paper, that’s all we need.”
“I do,” he said.
She extended her hand. “Then it’s a deal.”
They shook, his skin warm against hers.
Her mouth watered, but this time it was for more than the taco bar that waited for them on the other side of the door.
“Why are you helping me?” he asked, and she realized she wasn’t sure.
“If someone offered me help when I was in danger of losing what I loved, I’d ha
ve taken it in a heartbeat.” They were still holding hands even though they were no longer shaking. “I’m not here to run you out of business, Sam. I just want my life back.”
The land was his business. But it was hers, too, long before the Meadow Valley Ranch existed.
“We should eat,” he said.
She nodded.
“And I haven’t exactly told Ben and Colt about, um, your situation,” Sam added. “So this might be a little awkward.”
“Don’t tell them,” she blurted without thinking. “I mean, it’s a holiday of sorts. I’m stuck here, and we’ve got work to do. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s week. Besides, I still have several days to convince you that you don’t need all this space to run a ranch.”
She forced a smile. He’d already built on the property. Whichever way they divided it, he’d lose something he built with his own hands. He’d lose the money he invested. But none of that was her fault. She’d lost everything. She was only asking for a portion of it back.
He smiled, too, but she could tell it was just as difficult for him as it was for her. “And I still have several days to convince you to let me buy you out.”
She wasn’t going to call his bluff and ask what money he was planning to use to do so. Sam Callahan was definitely a resourceful man. She’d known him for only the better part of a day and was already convinced that if he wanted something bad enough, he’d find a way to get it.
The door flew open before she could think of what to say next, and they both had to jump out of the way of two young parents and their brood of children as they loudly and laughingly headed off to whatever they were going to do next, barely taking notice of her and Sam.
“Guess that’s our cue,” he said with a chuckle, and took off his hat and held the door open so she could finally step through. And once she smelled the aroma coming from inside, it wasn’t a minute too soon.
“Look what the cat…dragged through the mud,” a man called from across the room, where he seemed to be schmoozing with a table of guests like he owned the place. Actually, he looked like a younger, less tightly wound version of Sam.