She arrived at the ranch and slowed as she passed the corral where Garrett was doing ground work with Scout. Whiskers sat on the top rail supervising. A breeze ruffled the cat’s already winter thick black-and-white fur. Scout trotted an even and calm circle around Garrett.
Peta parked her truck. Garrett had worked miracles. She didn’t think she’d ever see the day Scout would be comfortable around any man. Even with Hal she’d remained wary and on edge. Whoever this Garrett was, Peta could add horse whisperer to the many things he must have been.
She left her pickup and brown flashed to her left as a dog bolted from the barn to greet her.
“Yes, Tank, I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, in between her laughter. The brown-and-white border collie was so excited, he sat on her boots. She rubbed his ears. “I told you I was only going to town to see Hal and would be back soon.”
With Tank by her side, she walked to the corral. Whiskers glanced at Tank and then ignored him. The ranch dog was no threat. Tank only liked to herd cattle. They all watched as Scout continued to trot in a controlled circle around Garrett. But it wasn’t the chestnut mare that held Peta’s attention.
The midmorning sunlight streamed over Garrett as he stood relaxed and at ease. Dressed in faded jeans, a deep blue shirt, and a dusty Stetson, she could understand why he’d had women trouble in Wyoming. Hal had said the women Garrett hung around didn’t know a cow from an elk but they did know a real man when they saw one. It wasn’t just the angle of his jaw that communicated confidence it was the steadiness of his gaze that confirmed he was a cowboy to ride the river with. Whatever life threw at him, he’d stand tall.
Peta looked away to concentrate on Scout. Garrett was also a cowboy she had to work alongside and she couldn’t afford to let distract her. Things had to remain strictly business between them. Out on the range accidents could happen with the slightest lapse in focus. Her vacation was over and she now had a ranch to run. It didn’t matter how good-looking Garrett was, or how broad his shoulders were, or that the corners of his grey eyes crinkled when he smiled, she had to remain immune.
Garrett used gestures to slow Scout to a walk. Then, her ears pricked forward and, her large brown eyes bright, the mare approached him. Garrett ran a gentle hand down her nose.
Peta spoke into the quiet. “She’s doing so well. Thanks so much for spending time with her.”
Garrett flashed her a quick smile. “No problem. How’s Hal?”
“Good but ready to come home.”
Garrett nodded and walked over to where Peta stood with Whiskers and Tank. Scout followed. Whiskers arched her back and, when the mare came near, purred and rubbed herself against her stablemate’s mane.
“They’re inseparable.” Garrett laughed softly. “Are you planning to take Scout on the roundup? If you are, Whiskers will want to come, too.”
Peta smiled, hoping her expression didn’t reveal how Garrett’s deep and husky laughter had rippled across the fine hairs on her nape. “I know but I’m not taking Scout this year. There’ll be too much happening and too many people. Maybe next year.”
Whiskers stretched and walked along the fence to now rub her head against Garrett’s shoulder. Tank edged forward and when Garrett bent to ruffle the border collie’s neck, his tail thumped on the ground. Peta withheld a sigh. Garrett already had quite a fan club. She swung away. She wasn’t going to add herself to his list of admirers. She also didn’t have time to notice his well-shaped hands or his unhurried touch. He’d caress a woman with the same care and attention.
“I’ll unload the groceries,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder, “and then maybe we can have a coffee and you can catch me up on all the ranch news?”
“Good plan. I’ll be in soon.”
But as she entered the kitchen and smelled the subtle scent of his aftershave, Peta’s steps slowed. Sitting around the table and talking wasn’t going to work. She wouldn’t be able to look at Garrett and not remember how she’d first seen him in this room with his tanned chest bare and jeans low around his lean hips.
She unloaded her groceries. Through the oversized window above the sink, the space and serenity of the mountains called to her. As Garrett waked across the yard to the ranch house, a sheepskin coat over his arm and Tank by his side, Peta grabbed her truck keys from off the bench.
She met Garrett at the bottom of the porch steps. “While the weather’s good, I’d like to check the fence line up near the falls. Fancy a drive? We can talk on the way?”
“Sure.”
But as Garrett settled himself into the passenger seat of her truck she realized she’d made a grave mistake. If she was worried about being too aware of him in the kitchen it was nothing compared to sitting in the close proximity of the truck cabin. He was so near she could see the faint blur of his day-old stubble. She blanked out how he now smelled of leather and horse, scents she loved, and waited for Tank to jump into the back of the pickup.
“So where are we up to on the roundup plans?” She didn’t look at Garrett as she started the engine.
For the next fifteen minutes, she concentrated on the practicalities of what Garrett said. Zane had been right. Garrett did have everything under control for the upcoming three nights away. Garrett then relayed in detail what had happened while she’d been overseas. She’d been wrong to ever doubt Hal’s choice of Garrett as a temporary replacement. He ran Bluebell Falls as though he was running his own ranch.
She glanced at him. “You haven’t always been a ranch foreman have you?”
“No. It’s a long story. I’ll bore you with it one day.” He dipped his dark head toward the creek they followed. “I’m guessing if we’re heading toward the falls the ranch must be named after, these creek beds would be full of bluebells in spring?”
“They are. The bluebells are so thick they look like a purple carpet.” She paused.
Garrett kept a tight grip on his feelings but there had been a hint of wariness in his words before he’d changed the conversation topic.
“One day I’d like to hear your story, even if it’s long and boring. Everyone has a story to tell and everyone deserves to have someone listen to it.”
For a moment she didn’t think Garrett would respond. Then he spoke.
“Thanks.” His tone was as devoid of emotion as his impassive expression. “Your ranch isn’t the only one around here named after wildflowers, is it?”
She took his cue to again change the subject. He didn’t fool her. For someone to be so guarded it meant their story wasn’t only long; it also wasn’t an easy story to tell.
“No, it isn’t. Ivy’s great-grandmother started the tradition of naming the local ranches in this section of Paradise Valley after local wildflowers. Rhett and Ivy live on Rose Crown; Ethan, Bridie, and old Henry Watson on Larkspur Ridge; Payton and Cordell on Beargrass Hills and Zane, Trinity, and little Finn on Hollyhock Creek. Then Kendall will soon live with Brent and his mother, Ruth, on Fire Weed Ranch.”
“That’s quite a collection of ranch names.” Garrett leaned forward to gaze up at the rugged peaks that loomed before them. “The pioneers sure knew good land when they saw it. I’ve been on many ranches and this would have to be one of the sweetest valleys I’ve come across. The pastures are rich and protected, your rainfall is good and you have easy access to summer and winter grazing.”
“We do. I might be biased, but Bluebell Falls is special. I still can’t believe it’s mine. I spent my life dreading the day I’d have to leave when Rhett took over and had a family of his own. Then Rhett refused to accept his inheritance. He believed the ranch should go to me as the firstborn and not to him just because he was the only son. There are mornings, even now, when I pinch myself—” Peta stopped, cheeks warm.
She was rambling. As much as Garrett kept his emotions close to chest, she’d just revealed hers in a jumble of words. She wasn’t usually so forthcoming or familiar. Blurting out her own “long story” also wasn’t something she should be d
oing with someone she barely knew, let alone, with her temporary foreman.
Garrett looked across at her but she didn’t meet his gaze. “Peta,” he said voice quiet, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I wish I had a home I cared about and felt such a connection to.”
She nodded, still not taking her eyes off the dirt trail they followed. Garrett could say all the right things but she’d crossed a line. She was supposed to be keeping things businesslike between them. She wouldn’t be so loose-lipped again.
To her relief, the trail they followed rounded a curve in the creek and the waterfall appeared. Usually she slowed to take in the sight of the water streaming over the granite lip and turning white as it plunged into the pool far below. Usually the roar and raw power of the water enthralled and energized her. But today the sight and sound only reminded her that soon the flow would slow and the freezing temperatures would be here. She had a ranch to get ready for winter.
“We’ll stop here for a quick look,” she said. “We’ll then head back along the fence line.”
Without waiting for Garrett’s reply, she silenced the engine and climbed out of the driver’s seat.
*
Garrett made no move to leave Peta’s truck. He’d give her a chance to collect herself after revealing more than she liked. And he’d give himself time to get his own emotions under control. A lot had happened in the space of a small truck ride.
He’d never had anyone tell him he deserved to have his life story listened to. He’d never sat beside a woman and felt such a physical and emotional pull. Every time he’d glanced at her he’d noticed something different.
When she listened, her brow furrowed in concentration. When she laughed, a dimple flicked in her cheek. When she blushed, her eyes appeared a brilliant blue. And when she shifted in her seat, her pale pink western shirt parted to reveal the smooth skin of her throat.
He rubbed the tight line of his jaw. He was supposed to be proving he had everything under control, not wondering if her full lips were as soft as they looked. Last night, the problem of how to rebuild his defenses had sapped his concentration and stolen his sleep. But when the ranch rooster had crowed, signaling dawn was two hours away, the answer had seemed clear.
The only way to survive the next month working alongside Peta was to maintain a strict professionalism. There’d be no more social drinks with her at Grey’s. No more thinking of her as anything but his off-limits boss. He’d never had any trouble before keeping business and pleasure separate. He sighed. And yet here he was already struggling and feeling like a man drowning.
He exited the truck and strode over to where Peta stood on the edge of the waterfall pool. Her hand rested on Tank’s head as the border collie leaned against her jean-clad legs.
Garrett studied the mountain backdrop that towered above the trees beyond the waterfall. He’d keep their conversation on ranch business and then they could both relax.
“So is that where we’re heading for the roundup?” he asked above the noise of rushing water.
Peta too examined the high-country peaks. “Yes. There’s a road in so we’ll truck the horses up but we’ll trail the cattle down. There’s an old log cabin we use as a base every year.”
“Hal mentioned the cabin, along with Sam’s roundup pancakes.”
“I’m sure he did. I’m also sure the boys only enjoy roundup time because Sam loves the challenge of cooking with the basics. He makes bear sign donuts from an old family cowboy recipe and, trust me, they’re worth coming home to after a day in the saddle.”
She’d left her hat in the truck and the wind whipped glossy blonde strands across her face.
“So, I won’t be going hungry while we’re away,” Garrett said, digging his hands into his jeans pockets to stop himself from stepping close and brushing her windblown hair from off her cheek.
“No, you won’t. If this weather holds you also won’t be cold. But like any high altitude trip, be prepared to have four seasons in one day.” She slid her fingers into her hair to drag it off her face. “Now, if you’ve seen enough, we’ll keep moving?”
Garrett nodded and followed Peta and Tank over to the truck. They headed back to the ranch but this time travelled along the fence line checking for broken wire or slumped posts.
She glanced at him. “Before we leave tomorrow I want to check you’re okay riding Trapper? He isn’t the most cooperative of horses but when it comes to cattle work there’s no horse better.”
“Trapper and I get along fine. I gathered he had a reputation. It was a giveaway when all the boys crowded around while I took my first ride.”
“Did they now? Wait until I see Sam. There would also have been a few bets placed on how long you stayed in the saddle.” She cast him a curious look. “I’ve seen you with Scout and have no doubt you would be fine with big, bad Trapper.”
Garrett squared his shoulders against a surge of warmth at her compliment. It shouldn’t mean so much that she had faith he’d handle the ornery bay gelding. “Let’s just say the boys got back to work as there was nothing to see.”
She smiled and slowed the truck alongside where a section of fence sagged. “The elk jump the fence here to water at the creek and the wire will need to be strained before we put any cattle in.”
“I’ll have Rod and Troy take care of it after lunch.”
“Thanks.” Peta went to say more but then bit her lip.
He guessed she was about to add that she’d ask the cowboys to fix the fence herself. From a professional point of view, deferring to him as ranch foreman was a sign of respect. But on a personal level, it shouldn’t also matter she again had faith in him.
They travelled along the fence in a careful silence he didn’t break. Every now and then Peta pointed out a landmark and soon the ranch outbuildings came into view.
“Thanks for the ranch update,” she said, as she parked the truck beside the red-walled barn.
“No problem.” He matched her businesslike tone. “What time are you getting Hal?”
“Around three.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure I’m here for when you arrive home.”
“Good idea. I have a feeling it’ll take two of us to stop him from getting back to work as soon as he leaves my truck.”
*
When the barn cast the first of the afternoon shadows across the corral, an air of anticipation hung over the ranch. The hum of conversation and the ready laughter told Garrett how well-liked and respected Hal was and how much the boys were looking forward to him coming home. Sam hadn’t been seen since lunch and would be busy putting the finishing touches on the large, welcome home chocolate mud cake.
Garrett stared along the road that led into the ranch. A smudge of dust disturbed the horizon. Peta had turned off the highway.
He bent to rub behind Tank’s ears. “They’ll be here soon.”
By the time the tires of Peta’s truck crunched on the gravel, the ranch yard was filled with cowboys. Smiles wide, the group waited until Peta parked the truck and Garrett helped Hal out of the passenger seat before they surrounded him.
Garrett moved away to collect Hal’s duffle bag from out of the back of Peta’s truck. He took a moment to relax his shoulders and to allow the tension to drain from his muscles. He’d been waiting for this day for weeks. The first step in Hal’s recovery had been taken. He was finally out of hospital.
Garrett glanced up and into Peta’s blue eyes. She stood a little away from Hal and the other cowboys, watching him. He turned and swung the duffle over his shoulder. He couldn’t have her glimpse his deep relief. Staying strong meant masking his emotions.
But when the crowd gave Hal some room and the old cowboy turned toward the mountains, closed his eyes and let the pine-scented breeze wash over his face, Garrett’s control slipped. He swallowed to ease the rawness of his throat. Hal had lived his whole life outdoors and the sterile hospital would have felt like a prison. Garrett risked a quick look toward Peta to see if she noti
ced his reaction, but her attention remained on Hal.
Peta invited everyone to the ranch house after dinner for Sam’s mud cake. Then, after much laughter and jokes from Sam about needing to fatten Hal up, the cowboys dispersed to finish their chores for the day.
“Okay,” Peta said, touching Hal’s thin shoulder. “Let’s get you inside and off your feet.”
Using his crutches, Hal made his way slowly around to the side of the ranch house. Peta held open the door that led into her mother’s old apartment. Hal had mentioned after Peta’s mother’s first heart attack, a series of ground floor rooms had been turned into a comfortable living area that didn’t contain any steps.
Once inside the warm and cozy apartment, Garrett placed Hal’s duffle in his bedroom while Peta guided him toward the kitchen that smelled of Sam’s chili. Hal’s face broke into a weary smile as his steps quickened.
Garrett helped Hal into his chair before he rested his crutches close beside him. Then he slid into the seat next to Hal.
Peta set a mustang decorated placemat on the table, followed by a bowl of steaming chili.
Hal rubbed his hands together. “You have no idea how hungry I am.”
Peta passed Hal some cutlery. “Well, you wouldn’t be if you ate the hospital food.”
Hal’s eyes twinkled. “If that was food, then I’m Santa Claus.”
Peta shook her head and placed a glass of water in front of him. The contentment of her smile as she sat at the table said she was as relieved and happy to have Hal home as Garrett was.
Peta laughed softly, the dimple flickering in her cheek, as Hal took one and then another mouthful of chili.
“Go easy, Hal. You also have brownies from Ivy, oatmeal cookies from Kendall, plus Sam’s cake.”
His Christmas Cowgirl Page 6