Unbridled Trails

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  “I burned our dinner.” He pressed his lips together. “Want to go out instead?”

  She scrunched her lips in the cutest shape, twisting her nose at the same time. “I really have had a long day. I have some tofu we could have with the salad?” She smiled at his ill-concealed grimace. “And I think Rachiah left a steak in the freezer.”

  He brightened. “Really? A steak? You wouldn’t be... mad at me for eating meat?”

  Her laugh warmed him and his worries faded. “Of course not. I’m the one who doesn’t like meat. I wear a bra, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make you wear one, too.” She cocked her eyebrow. “Unless of course you want to.” She giggled.

  “That sounds good. Not the bra, but the steak.” He offered her his hand. “Let’s go get dinner made.”

  She smiled, the bottom swell of her lips entrancing. “Sounds good, but I have no idea how I’m going to explain eating dinner with the guy who broke into my house.” She winked. “Guess I’ll tell Rachiah you broke in to steal her steak.”

  Her teasing shifted inside him and he couldn’t help it. He tugged her close and leaned in, his lips inches from hers. “How about I steal a kiss instead?” He bent his head before she could answer and their lips met, the moment stunningly sweet and poignant without any anxious planning.

  She didn’t pull away, sinking against his chest instead and warming to the simple contact that swelled in Kyle’s chest with heat.

  They broke away, a new appreciation for the other in their expressions. She didn’t seem to think twice about reaching out and taking his hand again, like a natural habit they’d had for years. She laughed as they walked toward the kitchen, shaking her head. “Cow balls.”

  How lucky was he? He didn’t have to eat cow testicles or tofu. He got to have steak with a woman he couldn’t keep his mind off of.

  Kyle’s night was looking up.

  Chapter 11

  Sherri

  Sherri laughed. In fact, she hadn’t stopped laughing with Kyle since the Rocky Mountain oysters incident earlier that evening. When they’d dropped their shields, she couldn’t believe how comfortable she was with him.

  “Wait, I have one. Stop me, if you’ve heard this one.” Sherri sipped her water to rinse the parmesan bits from her mouth and then met Kyle’s expectant gaze. “If you have to choose between a big weevil and a small weevil—”

  “A weevil? Like one of those bugs you find in flour?” Kyle arched his brow and leaned forward, confusion shadowing the gorgeous blue of his eyes.

  Sherri nodded, snickering. “Yes, those ones.”

  “Go on.” He nodded, waiting.

  “If you have to choose, then choose the lesser of two weevils.” She snorted at the end of the tagline. It was her favorite joke and she never got to tell it outside of the entomologist field because most people didn’t care enough to hear it.

  The joke was Kyle’s test.

  He leaned back, amazement on his face. “That was adorable.” He chuckled. “Lesser of two evils. I get it.”

  His smile warmed her and she opened her mouth to comment but a knock on the door interrupted her.

  After nine-o-clock who would be calling at her place? She stood. “Excuse me.”

  At the door, M.T. craned his neck when she opened the door to see inside. He spoke in low concerned tones. “That... ranch hand is still here. Do you want me to remove him? Is he causing problems?”

  Irritation at being babysat edged her words a little sharper than she intended. “No. M.T. I’m fine. He’s fine. It’s fine. Thank you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He turned away then turned back, lacing his fingers with hers and imploring her with his deep dark brown gaze. “Sherri, don’t pick someone like him. He’s transient. He’s not loyal. Pick me. Please, pick me. Give me a chance.”

  Tears pricked at Sherri’s tired eyes. She softly shook her head. “I’m not picking anyone tonight, M.T. I’m sending you both home so I can get some sleep. Goodnight.” She retracted her fingers slowly, sad that his touch didn’t make her wish they were locked up together alone in a cave instead of miles apart.

  She gently closed the door and turned to find Kyle standing close by. Sherri motioned over her shoulder feebly and with what had to be a shaky smile. “Sorry, long story.”

  Kyle moved closer, bending his head to meet her lowered gaze. “Nah, he cares for you. That’s as long as it needs to be.” He straightened up and smiled. “Well, your new nickname is Weevils.” He playfully chucked her under the chin which turned into a caress of her neck, sending delicious shivers along her collar bones and down to her hips. “I better go. It’s getting late and I have work to do tomorrow. Are you off?”

  She nodded, still captivated by the lingering traces of his touch. “I don’t have to work, but Ryland asked me to stop by the ranch, so maybe I’ll see you?” Her hope felt like it glowed out of her with a huge warmth.

  Kyle lurched backwards, dropping his hand from her arm. “You’re seeing him, too?”

  “Too?” Sherri settled on her hip. “Who else am I seeing?” She wanted to date Kyle but they’d just gotten together that night and it hadn’t exactly started conventionally.

  He tightened his jaw and stepped around her to claim his hat he’d hung from a hook by the door. “I thought you and I...” He shook his head. “I was feeling pretty cynical of M.T., thinking he needed to get the hint, but now I can’t help wondering if maybe I should feel bad for any poor sucker interested in you. You’re stringing a few of us a long.” He pulled open the door, avoiding her gaze.

  Sherri didn’t reply. Instead, as soon as his foot cleared the doorway, she slammed the heavy wood panel shut. Turning to lean against it, she closed her eyes. Her week of warning so many ranches and dealing with sexism in her field had taken its toll. Combine her exhaustion with the little drama Kyle and M.T. had to dish up, and she was going to sink into a bathtub with a glass of wine.

  Wine she didn’t have.

  She didn’t even have chocolate – not that she would’ve had it.

  But she’d give anything for a cheesecake. Something not so sweet, but creamy. How sad that a fun night had ended so harshly.

  Bugs. Bugs had her back and didn’t hurt. Men were like fire – they burned and destroyed everything in their path. Even the balls they cooked you for dinner. She shook her head and ignored the table.

  Tomorrow. She could deal with stuff tomorrow.

  Tonight.

  Bath. And Tommy time.

  ~

  If she hadn’t promised Ryland she’d find out more information about Rachiah’s relationship status, she’d never set foot anywhere near Kyle the next morning.

  As it was, her hands shook as she parked her Nissan at Jonesy’s barn and climbed out. She didn’t want to see Kyle, but she couldn’t help looking for him as she walked toward the lower barn doors. The way he’d kissed her, like it was something he couldn’t help, had left her more than curious for when he’d do it again.

  He wasn’t going to get a chance as far as she was concerned. For the hundred-thousandth time she defended herself with a mental mantra – I don’t string guys along. I don’t flirt. It’s not my fault. I can’t control them.

  She checked her watch. Three minutes earlier than they’d agreed. She didn’t want to be there any longer than she needed to be. In fact, if Ryland had had a cell phone, she would’ve just called and shared the information she’d found out. But he didn’t and so there she found herself on Saturday, waiting for him to start lunch.

  A bench set up outside the double-wide doors offered a place for her to wait. In full view of anyone who rode or walked by.

  She sat anyway. He’d promised to meet her there, had begged her to come.

  Five minutes became fifteen. Fifteen turned into forty-five.

  Why wouldn’t she leave? Why hadn’t she left yet?

  To her shame, she wanted to see Kyle. She just did. She couldn’t help it. A part of her wanted to see him so bad.
A different part wanted her to cowgirl up and not take that crap from anyone.

  Even if he did have the jawline of a young Clint Eastwood and eyes the color the clearest sky.

  She’d just have to work on ignoring the strength in his shoulders and the tenderness in his large hands.

  The clip-clopping of horse hooves pulled her attention from the little line of sugar ants working diligently beneath the bench.

  Lifting her head, she held her expression neutral as Kyle approached the barn, walking beside a beautiful Arabian horse.

  Right behind him, thankfully, was Ryland, covered in sweat and leading a stauncher looking quarter-horse.

  Kyle didn’t react at seeing her, moving inside the barn like she hadn’t sat there at all.

  She hid the hurt and smiled largely at Ryland as he approached. She couldn’t even be annoyed at his tardiness. She was so distracted on how Kyle messed with her emotions. “You’re late.”

  Ryland glanced past her into the barn. “Yeah, sorry, we’ve been worked pretty hard this morning since before sun-up.” He slouched on the bench beside her and sighed. “Did you find anything out? I need some good news about now.”

  Sherri grinned. Ryland wasn’t interested in her at all and the relaxed friendship they’d developed the other night when he’d stopped by to see Rachiah was a refreshing break from M.T.’s intense expectations.

  “I called her this morning and she’s not seeing anyone.” Sherri grew more serious. “She’s pretty focused on this thing with her dad actually. But that doesn’t mean she won’t be interested when she comes up.”

  His downtrodden expression brightened. “She’s coming back up? When?”

  “I’m not sure, but she comes up to visit her mom and step-dad pretty often. We share the place. I can let you know the next time she comes over?” Sherri scratched at the back of her arm.

  He leaned forward to stand. Looking down at Sherri, he smiled. “Thanks, Sherri. I mean it. You’re a great friend. Rachiah’s pretty lucky. Let me know and I’ll try to surprise her or something when she gets home.” He looked down at his sweat stained clothes. “I’m going shower. Thanks again for stopping by. I’ll see you later.” He nodded at her, his hat dipping and lifting. He led his horse inside and Sherri sighed. All that for less than a minute’s worth of conversation.

  And less than a handful of seconds of silence from Kyle.

  She was so stupid. Why couldn’t she like M.T. the way he liked her? Why couldn’t she be like normal women and go for the guy that obviously wanted her? Marry him, have a passel of kids, look forward to growing old together?

  Why did she think she had to hold out for the guy who –

  “Is that it? That’s all you came out here for?” Doubt colored Kyle’s tone.

  Sherri turned from her walk toward the truck, but she didn’t stop. “Don’t worry about it. I’d hate to string you along.” She lifted her chin.

  “Sherri.” Regret filled the one word enough to make her stop.

  She crossed her arms, anger more at herself for being weak and not fighting her attraction to him held her muscles tense – even more so than her irritation with him.

  She’d never told him about Ryland’s interest in Rachiah, but then again, he’d never asked.

  His footsteps whispered over the grass as he approached her. “You don’t have a thing going on with Ryland? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  At that Sherri spun. “Tell you what? We aren’t exclusive. Last night was the first time you and I even hung out and you have to admit, coming home and finding a guy in my house with my oven on fire isn’t exactly the best start to any relationship.” Dang him and his masculine scent mixed with the smell of fresh hay.

  A small grin accentuated the smooth bottom curve of his lip as it contrasted with the spiky texture of his skin.

  Sherri sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead and laugh.”

  “Darlin’, you have to admit, there’s nothing conventional about us.” He pulled her around to face him completely. “At least that guy tried feeding you the most delicious meal.” His wink brought out a giggle and she covered her mouth. She couldn’t stay mad at him and that irritated her more.

  “I need to go.” Her smile stayed but she turned back to the truck to leave.

  “Why? Want to see something?” He reached out and tugged on the upper part of her sleeve.

  She didn’t resist much as she followed him toward a trail that led off behind the barn toward the mountains.

  The lack of rain left the air dry with a breeze that was neither cool nor refreshing, but it stirred the scents of the prairie around them with the heady musky odor of freshly tilled and spread manure.

  They walked about twelve-hundred feet in silence. The trail faded into the edge of the woods like a fog in sunlight. Mid-morning light filtered through pine needles and shafted over bark, sending shadows into small crevices.

  “It’s just over this way.” He turned, offering her a small smile as he motioned toward a small collection of trees.

  Did she follow him further? She glanced back over the distance they’d come. How taken with him was she?

  But his smile promised something special. Sherri didn’t have the heart to turn back at that point. She nodded slightly, stepping over the dry needles and grasses on the ground.

  “I found this about a week ago, just before meeting you at the bar.” He glanced at her quickly then away again.

  Curious at his sudden shyness, Sherri ducked between two towering bull pines and pushed past wild huckleberry bushes. The clearing opened up to well-protected velvety soft mullan plants towering above young orange and pink milkweed flowers.

  Sherri knelt at the edge of the clearing. She covered her mouth. “Danaus plexippus.”

  Kyle crouched beside her, his hands loose between his knees. “What?”

  “Monarch butterflies. That’s what danaus plexippus is. The larvae and the caterpillars and...” She pointed. “Look, they’re resting in the heat.” Wings flapped but slow, not enough to take flight but enough to stir the air around the beautiful orange and black wings.

  The majesty of the clearing captured Sherri’s heart. She reached out and held Kyle’s hand, basking in the moment of the butterflies. With absolute reverence, she whispered, “They aren’t huge up this way, because there isn’t a lot of water.”

  Kyle tapped her arm and pointed with his free hand.

  Past the high reaching mullan stalks, the glistening of water trickling into a small pond caught her eye. She didn’t want to disturb the butterflies, but she wanted to see that pond. “Is it natural?”

  “Yeah, it looks like a collection of underwater streams. The pond isn’t deep enough to swim in, but one or two people can probably sit in it with their knees up to their chins.” Kyle’s chuckle wasn’t contained to a whisper and the monarch butterflies rose up from their resting spots in a spectacular cloud of black and orange fluttering lines, and then they settled again.

  Sherri watched the wonder on Kyle’s face and couldn’t hide the wonder on her own. “Thanks for bringing me here. I love this.”

  He shrugged, but didn’t let go of her hand. “I figured you would.”

  After a few more minutes soaking in the view, they returned to the trail.

  Sherri stopped at the property line. A thick ditch had been dug about five feet wide and a foot deep. She scuffed the toe of her hiking boot in the slightly dried dirt. “You guys listened to me? No one else is taking me seriously.” She tried not to show her frustration with the overt sexism the ranch owners had shown. It wasn’t their fault they’d never had a female Land Management agent.

  Bull crap, sexism shouldn’t matter and they were ignoring her warnings because she was a woman.

  But Kyle and his cousins hadn’t ignored her. The proof was in the freshly dug fire line.

  “Of course. We take important information seriously.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go get a drink. I’m sure my break is about
up.”

  Every second that passed made Sherri a little bit happier that she’d waited to see Ryland.

  She’d remember that Monarch field for a long time.

  Chapter 12

  Kyle

  Kyle didn’t want to wait another six days to see Sherri, but with Nate away with Emma and Sherri’s overtime schedule, they didn’t have much of a choice.

  Friday evening came with a cranky vengeance and Kyle couldn’t wait to turn the ranch and its problems over to Jareth.

  He splashed on some cologne he borrowed from Damon and revved the engine in ole Betsy.

  He had a fun night out planned with Sherri and he couldn’t wait to pick her up.

  On the main road into the reservation, Kyle avoided making eye contact with M.T. who sat sentinel in a lifted ‘70’s style Bronco with tinted rear windows.

  The creepy feeling he was being watched didn’t ebb even as he picked up Sherri in her curve hugging shirt and jeans and wavy hair. Or as they drove off the reservation and there were two more trucks beside M.T. all of them watching like they could see inside Kyle’s mind.

  Only in the movie theater at Colby did the feeling finally fade enough Kyle could relax.

  Sherri traced her finger on his wrist and leaned toward him in the dark theater. Her whisper wasn’t necessary during the previews but Kyle appreciated a reason to lean close enough to smell her scent of citronella. Dang, her scent was comforting.

  A hand slammed down on his shoulder, squeezing tight on the muscle between his shoulder and neck.

  Reflexively, Kyle jumped to his feet, spinning around. He scanned the theater to make sure only one man was stupid enough to attempt grabbing him like that. His boots whispered softly over the cement floor of the cinema.

  Guy roostered. The slope of the theater flooring raised his height to equal that of Kyle. He sneered. “You still hanging with my sloppy seconds?” He cast a sideways glance at Sherri, ogling her before returning his gaze to Kyle. “I didn’t realize you were into that. Maybe I need to get your sister again and we can double.”

  The prodding pushed in just the right spot and Kyle’s wound up anger uncoiled. He threw a punch that landed clean below Guy’s right eye.