by Julia London
“See what?”
“The blue jay condo.” He pointed at a dead aspen, its white bark turned gray. But in that bark were dozens of holes. As if on cue, a blue jay fluttered into their midst, perching on the edge of one hole, then disappearing inside.
Madeline gasped with delight. “Are they all nests?”
“Most of them. It was a woodpecker habitat at some point,” he explained. “The blue jays chased them out and moved in. Voilà, instant condo complex.”
Madeline rubbed her hands against her arms as she examined the aspen. The wind was picking up and the temperature had begun to drop as rain approached. Luke shrugged out of his denim jacket and put it around her.
Madeline tried to hand it back to him. “I can’t take your jacket.”
“You’re shivering, but I’ve got a couple of shirts on. And it’s going to get a whole lot colder when rain moves in.” He held the jacket open to her.
Another strong gust of wind prompted Madeline to step forward. She put her arms through the sleeves and smiled at him over her shoulder. “Thank you. And thanks for showing me the condo. It’s so beautiful here.”
“My mom used to say these mountains were her garden,” Luke said. “She hiked up into the forest most days, but she always came back to this meadow.” He chuckled at a memory. “In the summer, she’d come up here on Sunday afternoons to read her books. We had strict instructions she was not to be found unless someone was bleeding.”
“Nice,” Madeline said approvingly. “A sanctuary from boys, but the cows can stay.”
How lucky he’d been, Luke thought, to have these mountains as his backyard. Once, when he was twelve or so, he’d honed his tracking skills and had followed his mother up here. He’d found her on a blanket next to the truck. She was lying on her back, an open book across her chest. He’d raced across the meadow to surprise her, but she had surprised him—she’d had tears on her face.
Naturally, he thought something horrible had happened, but his mother had laughed and tousled his head. “Nothing has happened other than someone wrote a very moving book. Do you know…” she’d said, as she’d closed her book and pulled him down on the blanket beside her, “that sometimes I wish I lived a long time ago in a castle?” And she had folded him in her arms. They’d lain on that blanket, watching fat clouds float by, talking about all the things they’d wished for.
“She was a great mom,” he said, and glanced down, surprised by the swell of emotion. He was long past the point of feeling sick to his stomach when he talked about her. Now, she was a collection of warm memories.
“How did she die?” Madeline asked.
“Cancer.” He didn’t say more than that. There was nothing more insidious than watching someone die from cancer, nothing more horrifying, more gut-wrenching than watching your mother slowly waste away. He rarely talked about it.
“I’m so sorry,” Madeline said, and touched his hand.
That small touch reverberated through Luke. He wrapped his fingers around hers. He was at odds with his emotions; his head and his heart were responding to Madeline, but at the same time he felt a shadow of guilt, as if he was letting down his mother by giving into his body’s yearnings and forgetting about the ranch. He looked away from Madeline. “The only thing I have left of her now is memories. Places like this, where she used to be. I stand here and almost see her.” He didn’t say more than that. He couldn’t say more than that. He glanced at Madeline out of the corner of his eye.
She was looking directly at him. “Luke?” she said.
His eyes fell to her lips. “Madeline?”
She smiled, and for a moment of sheer insanity, Luke wondered if she intended to kiss him. Even more insane was that he wouldn’t mind if she did.
“You wouldn’t use your mom to try and back me into a sentimental corner… would you?”
He couldn’t help the grin that began to move across his mouth. He slowly lifted his gaze to hers. Hers were sparkling now—with ire, with challenge, and perhaps with a bit of amusement. “Would it work?”
“Maybe,” she said. “But it would be really demented of you.”
“The most despicable thing ever,” he agreed. “But sometimes a guy has to do what a guy has to do. Wish I had thought of it,” he said, squeezing her fingers, “I’ll just have to rely on my powers of persuasion with you, huh?”
She clucked her tongue at him. “I’m a trained negotiator.”
Now Luke smiled. He shifted closer, leaned down so that his head was next to hers and said softly, “I wasn’t planning to negotiate.”
She gasped—with a laugh or surprise, he wasn’t certain—and poked him in the chest. “Do you think I will fall for that?”
He grabbed her poking finger and held it tight. “Don’t know yet,” he said. “But I’m gonna find out just what it is you will fall for, Maddie Pruett.”
She laughed, a soft, silky little laugh. “It’s Madeline, player.”
There it was again, that feeling of something dancing between them, something with a very strong pull. But wherever that moment was headed was suddenly lost to a loud crack of thunder over their heads. It startled Madeline; she cried out and whirled about at the same time, stumbling into Luke’s chest. Her heel sunk down on the top of his foot; he hissed at the pain, and caught Madeline with an arm around her chest before they both went tumbling.
“I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he said tightly, testing his foot again, privately fearing that she might have broken a bone.
Another clap of thunder heralded the arrival of the rain; Madeline looked up at the very moment the skies opened. She cried out with surprise.
Luke threw his arm around her shoulder and they ran—or rather, they hobbled, because of Madeline’s shoes and his near broken foot—to the Bronco, diving in just as the rain began to pour. A white light exploded around them, followed the next moment by at crack of thunder.
“What about the dogs and cows?” Madeline exclaimed.
“They’ll be fine, they’ve already gone for cover.” He started the Bronco and gunned it, lurching across the meadow and down the road as far as he could go before he couldn’t see through the deluge. He stopped the Bronco just as another bright light flashed through the truck and the world was split by the crack of the bolt of lightning. It was so close that Madeline cried out and dipped her head; Luke put his arm around her shoulder and dragged her into his side. “It’s okay, Maddie.”
“We’re going to be killed,” she said breathlessly.
“Lightning will hit the top of those trees first,” he tried to assure her, but another crack did not help his argument. He held her tighter. “Relax,” he said. “We’ll be fine. I’ve done this dozens of times.”
She lifted her head. “Really?”
Not even close—maybe once or twice he’d been caught up high during a storm. But he smiled reassuringly and said, “Well. Maybe not dozens of times.”
Madeline relaxed into his side, and Luke liked the way she felt against him. “Wow,” she said, looking out the window as rain whipped around them and trees swayed into one another. It was raining so hard now that they couldn’t see more than a foot in front of the Bronco. Madeline twisted around to look behind them. “I think we’re stuck,” she said.
Luke didn’t notice if they were or not—he couldn’t take his eyes off Madeline. Her white shirt was plastered to her, and beneath it, he could see a lacy blue bra, which was holding up a pair of perfect breasts. When he didn’t respond, she looked at him.
That thing dancing between them began to circle around, drawing them closer together.
“Stuck,” she said again, her gaze sliding down to his chest.
He wanted more from this woman than he ought to want. “For the moment,” he agreed. “When it stops raining, we’ll go down, even if we have to walk.”
A soft smile illuminated her face. “Bad shoes, remember?”
God, he wanted to kiss her. “How could I
forget? Broken foot, remember?”
She laughed. “Too bad cell phones don’t work up here. We could call Libby to rescue us.”
Luke wanted to feel those lips against his, touch her skin. Madeline was talking, but he wasn’t really hearing her, he was watching her lips move, imagining how soft they would feel against his…
Until she said, “I can’t understand why she wants to stay here.”
Luke mentally shook his head. “What?”
“Libby. She wants to stay at the ranch.”
She said it so casually, and all Luke could do was stare at her.
“What’s wrong?” Madeline asked.
“Does this mean you guys have decided?” Luke asked, trying to keep his anger in check. They had no regard for the family history here, of the family displaced from here. “She’s going to move into my family’s house?”
“No, no, we haven’t decided anything. But Emma went back to L.A.—”
“What? When?”
“This morning,” Madeline said. “I was surprised too. No word, nothing, she just left. And Libby—Libby is convinced she needs to be here to manage the reunion.”
Loud thunder and a very bright bolt of lightning cracked overhead, and Madeline jumped. She rubbed her hands on her legs as if she was trying to create warmth. Luke sighed. He was angry, but he was still a gentleman. “Sit tight,” he said, and opened his door. He heard her shout after him, but he had already dashed to the hatch. He pulled it open and grabbed his emergency bag, then dashed back to the driver’s seat.
That short exposure to the elements had soaked him. He pulled out a blanket from the bag and spread it over her lap, then his.
“Oh my God, thank you,” she said, and bent her legs, kicking off her shoes and pulling her feet up onto the seat beneath the blanket. “You’re like a Boy Scout.” Luke reached into the bag and pulled out a package of peanut butter crackers and opened the package, offering her one before taking one himself. “I’m sorry,” she said between bites of cracker, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you knew Libby was staying.”
Luke had been upset by the situation with Homecoming Ranch since he’d called home after Patti’s initial call. He glanced at Madeline as he popped a cracker into his mouth. “I didn’t know. But I guess I knew it was coming.”
“I suppose Libby is right,” Madeline said thoughtfully. “We do have to do something about that reunion, right? But at least it’s not a permanent move. I don’t think.”
Luke feared that it was. He’d heard enough to know that Libby’s life was in flux, and he feared that if she got her feet down at this ranch, she’d be impossible to dislodge. He thought that of all of them, only Madeline might have a chance of persuading her differently, and only because she seemed so determined to get the hell out of Pine River—
A thought suddenly occurred to him. Madeline was the key to his predicament. She was a shrewd little puppy and she wasn’t going to let this drag out. He didn’t want it to, either. He could use her help, and honestly, he wouldn’t mind having Blue Eyes around for a few days. He liked quirky. He looked at her shoes, splattered with mud, her damp and tangled hair.
Yeah, he’d like her to stick around.
But how did he get her to do that?
By appealing to her ego, that was how. He didn’t know a person on the planet who was immune to a little ego testing. He said, “You know, I think the best course of action is just to get on with it and settle things between us. Then, if you guys want to sell the ranch, then sell it. Let Jackson figure out the reunion.”
Madeline blinked with surprise. “That’s what I’ve been saying,” she pointed out. “And I think it’s a little weird that now you’re suddenly saying it.”
“Well, I’ve had a few wet minutes to think about it,” he said with a smile. “Look, I know my dad has made it impossible. My only hope is to try and put the money together to buy the ranch back. I figure that while you and your sisters do the reunion thing, I have a little time to come up with the money, right? But I don’t want Libby to get too comfortable, you know?”
Madeline nodded. “I know. I don’t want that, either.”
“So all I need is a little bit of time. And a fair idea of what the ranch is worth.”
“Hmm,” she said, her eyes narrowing on him. “This change of heart sounds a little suspicious.”
“I’m being straight with you, Madeline,” he said. “I know a guy, Danny Duffy, who lives up Trace Canyon Road. He used to be a realtor, among other things. I think he could figure out what the place is worth. I’ll call him as soon as I get to town.”
“Are you serious?” Madeline said quickly, “I’d like to do some research before anyone talks about hiring a realtor.”
“That’s okay, Maddie. I know you have to get back to Orlando. Danny can do it.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, and looked out the window. “But you have to get a good, reputable, knowledgeable agent if you want to get fair value.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure Danny Duffy will do what he can. He’s about all we’ve got up here.”
“I can do the market research,” Madeline said. “I can even help find a realtor.”
“From Orlando?” Luke asked skeptically. “And anyway, what about your job?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t worry about it—Danny can look stuff up on the Internet if he’s not sure. I’m fairly certain he has Internet up on Trace Canyon Road.”
Madeline nodded. She looked out the window for a long moment, then suddenly twisted around, so she was facing him. One button of her blouse had come undone, he noticed, giving him a peek of that lacy blue bra. “Okay, look,” she said. “It’s true that I have a lot of work waiting for me. But the beauty of being self-employed is I can take a few days off if I need to, right? I can stick around and do the research on value. It won’t take me long.”
“How long?” he asked.
“A few days,” Madeline said. “A week, tops.”
Luke nodded. His gaze skimmed over her breasts. “So are you saying that now you’re willing to stick around a few days and help figure out things?”
Madeline looked as if she had swallowed a lump of peanut butter. “Yeah. I guess I am,” she said, and as if to convince herself, she gave him an adamant little nod. “But what about Libby?”
“I think if she wants to handle the reunion, she should do it,” Luke said, his gaze wandering lower, to her waist. “As far as the reunion goes, I’ll even help her. I just don’t want her to get the idea that it’s a done deal, because I am going to do everything I can to get the ranch back.”
“What about your job?”
“I can do a lot from here and head over to Denver when I need to. After all, we’re just talking a few days, right?”
“Right,” she said carefully. Her gaze moved to his chest again, and Luke wished she wouldn’t look at him like that. It was too damn tempting. “Just a few days,” she repeated softly, and lifted her gaze to his.
The rain, the chill in the air was everywhere around them but in that truck. Luke could feel nothing but a smoldering fire between the two of them.
“In fact,” he said, “I’ll probably drive over to Denver on Monday to check on things.” He shifted in his seat, too, moving closer. He casually pushed a wet strand of hair from her face, then another from her neck, letting his fingers graze her skin.
Madeline shivered slightly at his touch. “Okay, Luke, I’ll help,” she said. “But I’m watching you. This feels too convenient and tidy after yesterday.”
“I thought that’s the way you liked things,” he muttered, shifting closer, his face near her hair. It smelled sweet. “Tidy. Uncomplicated. To the point.”
Madeline turned her head slightly and looked at him sidelong. “You’re right. The tidier, the better for me. I don’t like to invite chaos into my life by taking little detours.”
He grazed her temple with his mouth; Madeline gasped softly. “Sometimes the detours are the best part of li
fe,” he murmured.
“Are you trying to kiss me?” she asked, her voice a little breathless.
“Yes.”
“I just met you,” she said reprovingly, but she didn’t move away.
“That is not true. You met me two days ago on the side of the road,” he said, and kissed her temple. “And then again at Jackson’s,” he added before kissing her cheek. “At the ranch,” he said, and kissed the bridge of her nose, “and in town.” He kissed her brow. “And now, on this mountain, in this rainstorm, in my truck. We’re practically an item.”
“You’re outrageous,” she whispered, but she did not turn her head when he kissed her lips.
Her response was restrained, funny, we-shouldn’t-be-doing-this kiss, but yet one that felt electric to Luke. She angled her head and kissed him back, her lips, butter soft against his, her skin silken beneath his fingers. It was simple, so simple, but the promise of something far greater was there, and his body was responding rapidly. Too rapidly. He felt himself tumbling hard and fast down a path of desire, and lifted his head, his eyes on Madeline.
She looked alluring with her tousled hair and wet lips. She also looked stunned. Luke thought to apologize. But before he could form a thought, Madeline suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and kissed him back. She kissed him so ardently that he fell back against the seat, and Madeline came over the console with him. He caught her up with one arm, pressed his palm against her cheek and temple. Madeline nipped at his lips, swept her tongue into his mouth, shoved her fingers into his hair.
Good God, but that kiss was hot and dangerously arousing. His body was hardening with that uncontrolled kiss, that passionate, fervent, surprising kiss. He slipped his hand inside the jacket, and pressed against the side of her breast.
Madeline made a soft little moaning sound into his mouth, and that was it. Luke lifted up, determined to take them both to the backseat, when a crash startled them.
Madeline gasped and lifted her head, planting her hands against his chest and looking wildly about. Luke looked around her mess of dark hair out the front window and saw half a dead aspen lying across the lower branches of two pines just to the right of the Bronco. He also noticed that the rain had begun to let up. He looked at Madeline; she had already faded back away from him, and was looking at him now as if she wasn’t certain what had just happened.