Ryan was nodding sagely. He drained his mug and got to his feet. “Well, I can’t help you with history, but I can ride out with you to check your herd.”
“Flock,” Julie said with a muted chuckle. “Sheep don’t come in herds. Remember?”
“Does that mean you can’t ride herd on them? I’ve never heard anybody say they rode flock on anything.”
“You’re exasperating, do you know that?”
Doffing his hat and bowing from the waist, Ryan said, “Why, thank you, ma’am. I do my best.”
* * *
Ryan followed her toward the barn, fully expecting to find a stable of suitable mounts. Instead, she led him to a smaller shed at one side. He balked. “Whoa. Where are the horses?”
“I prefer to just turn a key. By the time I get a horse saddled and bridled and clean its feet, then come back home, curry it and cool it down, the afternoon will be half gone.”
“This is Montana.”
“True, but it’s not the early 1900s anymore. And, in spite of Ezra’s hang-ups, we have motor vehicles for everything, including riding the range.”
“Shameful.”
“Practical.”
Ryan pulled a face and tilted his hat back with a one-fingered poke at the brim. “What happened to appreciating history?”
“I can recognize the value of the old ways without getting stuck in them, can’t I?”
“Well…”
If he hadn’t enjoyed teasing her, he would have easily accepted the option of riding ATVs. Since their verbal sparring was so much fun, he decided to continue pretending ignorance.
When she produced two lightweight helmets and handed one to him, he took advantage of the chance to rib her about it. Holding a helmet, he studied it as if it was an alien object. “You don’t expect me to wear a sissy hat, do you?”
“It might keep your brains from getting more scrambled than they already are.”
He huffed and feigned annoyance. “You think I’m throwing a lasso with no loop?”
“Something like that.” Grinning, she tapped the helmet he was holding. “Put it on, cowboy. It won’t kill you to take precautions once in a while. I don’t know why you don’t compete wearing head protection like so many other rodeo cowboys have started doing lately.”
“I told you. It throws off my balance.”
“Only because you’re not used to it. If you practiced…”
“You’re a very hardheaded woman, you know that?”
“It has been mentioned in the past, yes.”
“By your brothers, no doubt.”
To his delight, Julie’s smile spread and her blue eyes sparkled. “By just about everybody,” she admitted. “My teachers used to write that on my report cards all the time.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
She chuckled wryly. “Probably because you already know me better than a lot of folks do. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I seem to be on the same wavelength most of the time.”
“It can seem that way, can’t it? I suppose it has to do with our interest in animals and such.”
The slow shaking of her head told him more than words when she simply said, “Maybe.” Clearly, she knew as well as he did that there was something special going on between them. It wasn’t easy to explain or to understand, yet it was undeniably there. An awareness. A camaraderie that had sprung up so quickly it was astounding. And more. Much more.
If he believed in such things, he might actually suspect they were soul mates. He’d encountered and briefly dated other women during his travels. Never had he felt what he felt this time. And never had he sensed this much rapport. This much rightness about a relationship.
That was what this was, Ryan had to admit. He and Julie Shaw already had a personal relationship that had come out of nowhere and had left him reeling. It was impossible. It was foolish.
And it was so real he could almost reach out and touch it.
* * *
“My replacement ewes and older females are pastured together. I keep my breeding rams and younger males separate.” Julie had pulled her ATV up to a gate and gotten off to open it so the two four-wheel-drive vehicles could pass through. Cowboy Dan was already with the sheep and their enormous white guard dogs, beginning to round them up for her.
Ryan went through the gap first, then dismounted to close the opening behind her.
“Thanks.” She left her ATV idling beside his while he latched the gate. “You seem pretty capable for a guy who said he hated riding anything but a horse.”
“I may have exaggerated a tiny bit.”
“Uh-huh. I thought so. You handle that machine like a pro. The first couple of times I tried to drive this kind of thing I ended up doing wheelies.”
The lopsided grin he gave her was telling even before he guessed, “That was no accident, was it?”
Julie had to admit it. “The first one may have been. The second one was to see how far I could go while balanced on the back wheels.”
“And you accuse me of taking risks!”
“I was twelve. It was before I got smart enough to know better.” She eyed the cowboy hat he had refused to remove. “You should have matured, as well.”
“I’m all grown up,” Ryan argued. “I just have my pride.”
“Too much of it, if you ask me,” she said over her shoulder as she gunned the engine and accelerated, leaving him in her dust. Since he’d balked at wearing even a simple bike helmet, she knew there was no way she’d ever convince him to forgo his Western hat for the kind of protective gear that was so essential in the rodeo arena. She’d followed the sport for years and was well aware of how many men had either lost their lives or been crippled while competing.
She knew she should not care so deeply, yet she did. In the space of a very short time, Ryan Travers had become the most important person in her life, and it pained her to imagine him hurt. Or worse.
Well, at least he wore a protective vest during all his rides, she reminded herself. That was a start. There had been a time not too many years past when such safety gear did not exist. It had taken the death of a famous, well-liked cowboy to spur one of his fellow competitors to create and perfect a vest that protected the rider’s rib cage and internal organs yet allowed him enough flexibility to bend in rhythm with the animal’s movement.
Julie’s creative mind was spinning wildly when she halted next to the large flock Cowboy Dan was circling and herding toward her.
As soon as Ryan stopped beside her, she said, “I know exactly what guys like you need, and I’m going to invent the perfect piece of rodeo gear just for you.”
He arched an eyebrow and peered over at her. “Oh?”
“Uh-huh. I thought of it while we were riding out here. I’m going to call it the Ryan Travers vestie.”
“Terrific. I can hardly wait. Enlighten me?”
“It’ll be like the vest you already wear, only with an attached hood, like a hoodie sweatshirt. I can line it with fleece padding to protect your head and it can tie under your chin with a pretty ribbon.”
The expression on his face was so comical she busted up laughing. “What?”
“You had better be joking.”
“Of course. But all kidding aside, you really should consider a real helmet. Even the Brazilian riders are wearing them now.”
“Not all of them. A lot of the Aussies haven’t changed over, either.”
“I take it you’re not eager to be on the cutting edge of modern cowboy gear.”
“You could say that. I guess I’m kind of like your father about preserving the old ways. After all, they were good enough for our ancestors.”
“So were covered wagons and steam engines. I like to think we’ve outgrown more primitive customs.”
/>
Ryan eyed the mottled gray Australian shepherd that was now running circles around their ATVs. “Did you hear her, Dan? She called me primitive.”
“Hey, if the boot fits…”
He couldn’t keep a straight face. “You’re a very unusual woman, Julie Shaw.”
The nod she gave him was emphatic and her expression too funny to overlook.
“I certainly hope so,” she declared with a lopsided smirk and a twinkle in her sky-blue eyes. “I’d hate to think I was wasting all this charm on a guy who wasn’t wise enough to appreciate it.”
“That does it,” Ryan retorted, still pretending to be speaking to Cowboy Dan. “Now she says I’m a wise guy.”
Julie was laughing softly when she told him, “You’ll get no argument from me about that.”
* * *
As the day progressed and her visitor lingered, Julie began to wonder what she was going to do about feeding him. The contents of her refrigerator left a lot to be desired, and although she had a couple of steaks in the freezer, it was far too late in the day to try to defrost them properly.
Did rough, tough cowpokes eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? she wondered. Or granola bars and yogurt, which made up her usual midday meal if she was out of bologna or leftovers? It seemed almost wrong to ask him.
Ryan inclined his head and peered at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “What’s up? You look like you just ate an unripe persimmon.”
“That bad, huh?” Sighing, she pulled a face. “It’s like this. You brought breakfast and we ate late, but since I’m getting hungry, I figure you must be, too.”
He shrugged. “Okay, so?”
“So I wasn’t planning on cooking and, believe me, you don’t want me to, so how about a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich?”
“Why don’t you let me treat you to supper in town later instead. The café’s open tonight, isn’t it?”
“Not usually on Mondays, but I think they extended their hours to accommodate the tourists,” Julie said. “I can call and ask. If they’re closed tonight, I guess we can grab a pizza at the quick stop on the highway.”
“Or eat gourmet PB and Js,” Ryan taunted.
“I do have a couple of T-bones in the freezer. Even if I took them out now, they wouldn’t be properly defrosted until tomorrow, though. My microwave tends to cook them in the middle when I try to hurry things too much.”
The glint in his attractive eyes was almost enough to steal away her breath. When he said, “No problem. We’ll eat in town tonight and I’ll help you grill those steaks tomorrow night,” she felt as if something had siphoned all the usable air out of the entire state of Montana.
He had just invited himself back, and she’d been so dumbfounded she’d let him get away with it. What was wrong with her? She knew she should be upset that Ryan was calling the shots, yet how could she object when he was suggesting exactly what she wanted, too?
The main difficulty was keeping him entertained without appearing too anxious. Yes, she liked having him around. And yes, they did seem to get along well. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get bored following her every day while she tended her flock.
Plus, she needed to check on her knitters, Chauncey Hardman, Carrie Landry, Mamie Fidler and sometimes Sandy Wilson, the Shaw housekeeper. None of them were free to work for her full-time, but Chauncey could always knit when the library wasn’t too busy and Carrie had time after she got home from her job as a physician’s assistant at the urgent-care center. Mamie’s eagerness had been the biggest surprise. Owner and manager of the Fidler Inn, Mamie was so handy with tools and such she’d seemed an unlikely choice to help create scarves, vests and sweaters of homespun yarn. The hourly wages Julie offered were some incentive, of course, but all the women clearly loved to knit.
Warmth crept up her neck and infused her already rosy cheeks when she noticed Ryan waiting for an answer to his suggestion about grilling the steaks. “Well, I suppose…”
“Good. Then it’s settled. Do you want me to wait for you here or meet you in town later?”
“Um, meet me later, I guess. I’ll need to clean up. I’m pretty dusty.”
“Me, too. I’ll make a run to the ranch where I’m bunking and grab a quick shower. What time is good for you? Seven?”
“That’s fine. If the café is closed when you get there, just park out front and wait for me and we’ll go get a pizza together.” Not to mention that she’d have to make a serious grocery run, she added to herself. Contemplating a dinner guest the following evening had already made her so nervous her stomach hurt. By the time they actually got around to cooking those steaks, she’d probably have no appetite at all.
“Sounds good,” he said easily.
Ryan was standing close enough to reach for her hand, and for a few unsettling moments Julie thought he was going to. Instead, he hooked his thumbs in his pockets and struck a casual pose.
That’s exactly what that is, she immediately realized. It’s a pose. He’s as nervous about the prospect of being with me as I am about being with him! What a surprise. And a happy one, at that. If the macho cowboy was having to pretend nonchalance, there was a fair chance he was actually beginning to care what she thought of him. Wahoo! Things were definitely looking up.
Chapter Ten
Ryan was ready and waiting for Julie at Great Gulch Grub by six-thirty.
At a quarter to seven he climbed out of his truck and stood on the sidewalk outside the café. The first few people who passed him to enter the restaurant were so engrossed in their own conversations he might as well have been a life-size chainsaw carving—until Rusty Zidek ambled by.
The old man’s smile made his gold tooth glint almost as much as his eyes did. He gave a polite nod, then stopped and joined Ryan where he was leaning against the building’s facade. “Evening, son. Lose your lady again?”
“She’s supposed to be on her way,” Ryan replied. He checked his watch. “It’s still early.”
“Just keep hummin’ that country song about waitin’ on a woman.”
“Matter of fact, I’d thought of that already.” He had to smile and play along. “Want to sing harmony?”
“Not ’specially.” Rusty chuckled and fingered his mustache. “Actually, I’m kind of glad to catch you alone. I been wonderin’ if your intentions toward Miss Julie are still honorable.”
Ryan nearly choked trying to suppress a laugh. The ancient cowboy was clearly dead serious. “I—uh—I have no specific intentions,” he stammered. “We just met.”
“Yeah, I know. The thing is, I ain’t never seed her act so besotted over any man, particularly no cowhand like you.”
Displaying a lopsided smile, Ryan said, “Don’t let the outfit fool you. I’m not as much a hick as you seem to think I am. I make a real good living riding in rodeos.”
“Don’t doubt it. If they’d offered that much prize money in my day, I’d have been able to buy me a big spread. Maybe even as big as Shaw’s place.”
“I never asked Julie how many acres they had,” Ryan mused. “It looked pretty impressive, though.”
“Oughta be.” Rusty coughed aside, then began to chuckle on the same breath. “I’ve heard it said that Jackson Shaw has more land than God—no offense meant.”
“None taken. From what I know about Julie, I doubt she’d appreciate that comparison, though. She’s pretty religious.”
Rusty was slowly shaking his head. “Wouldn’t exactly put it that way, son. There’s a big difference between faith and organized religion, not that I’ve got anything against church. It’s just that puttin’ a saddle on a dog don’t make him a horse any more than sittin’ in church makes a fella a Christian, if you get my drift.”
“Not really.” Ryan’s brow furrowed.
The old man tapped Ryan’s chest
with a gnarled finger. “It’s what’s in there, in your heart, that makes the difference. Bein’ a Christian is an inside job, not something you can borrow from a friend or inherit from your folks. You gotta get right with God all by yourself.”
“I’m afraid I’m not even close,” he said, unwilling to tell the old man how disillusioned he was with his Heavenly Father and how much he doubted that God even cared.
Rusty snapped his fingers. “We’re all this close to eternity, son. ’Specially a fella like you who risks his life every time he climbs into the chutes. Don’t wait too long. When your time’s up, it’s up.”
“Speaking of time, I think that’s Julie’s truck,” Ryan said, glad to have a chance to escape the impromptu lecture on spirituality.
“Sure is. Well, have a nice night,” Rusty said. “Will you be stickin’ around much longer?”
“Like I said, as long as I keep winning, I’ll keep riding. See you next weekend.”
“Or before. You remember what I said. We think mighty highly of our Miss Julie in Jasper Gulch. See that you treat her right.”
Or else remained unspoken, but Ryan understood completely. He was not the kind of man who led women on or lied to them, so there was no reason for anybody to worry about Julie.
Considering the way he viewed this current situation and the way he was beginning to feel, the only heart in danger of being broken was his own.
* * *
Spotting Ryan in front of the café was such a blessing Julie could hardly contain her enthusiasm. He’d not only kept his word, he’d arrived even before she had, and she’d purposely left home early. Perhaps he was starting to be as excited about spending more time with her as she was getting to be near him.
And maybe he’d simply started for town as soon as he was ready, she countered, disgusted to be so over the moon about their date. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? A date? A real date? This meal was different. At least she assumed as much.
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