“Strange girl,” he mumbled. “But cute.”
“What’s that?” Mrs. Smith asked, coming up behind him and interrupting his thoughts.
“Nothing, ma’am. Are you all right? Were you hurt in that fender bender?”
“No. I’m fine, Cole. Thank you for your assistance.”
“You’re welcome.” He walked to the corner of the car and checked the damage to her vehicle. “You’ve got a dent in your front bumper. Let me know if I can help you take care of that.”
“I expect my nephew can handle it.” She began toddling toward the grocery store and smiled when he stepped up beside her. “She sure was a pretty little thing, wasn’t she, Cole? That woman whose car I hit? I don’t remember her, but then my mind isn’t as sharp as it once was. Was she one of your classmates in school?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve never seen her before. She must be passing through. Maybe a Texan headed to the mountains.”
With a sudden shot of desire coursing through his veins at the recollection of her pretty face, he looked to the highway again, but her car was long gone.
Two
With her hands holding the steering wheel in a death grip, Lindy Grainger gazed in the rearview mirror as she left the grocery store parking lot and pulled onto the highway. The man with the brilliant blue eyes was staring after her with his hands fisted on his hips. She prayed he wasn’t trying to read her license plate. What if he called the police for leaving the scene of an accident?
Her pulse was racing. The accident was the old lady’s fault, so there was nothing to worry about, she reasoned. Except coming up with the money to fix her dented bumper and busted taillight. Fortunately, she’d been able to diffuse the situation quickly. The older woman had seemed relieved when Lindy suggested they each repair their own vehicles. It was the guy whose nose got out of joint and thought they should exchange personal information. Who was he, anyway? He’d called the older woman Mrs. Smith, so she wasn’t his mother or a relative. Even if he was a Good Samaritan helping out a senior citizen, it wasn’t his business how they handled the minor accident.
She’d done nothing wrong or illegal, she told herself again. There would be no reason for the police to find her and question her. Would there? Panic quivered in every cell of her body. Speaking to police meant a police report would be filed, and she couldn’t have that.
Why did this have to happen today? Shaking her head in frustration and pounding her hand against the wheel, she mumbled, “My first day in Tularosa and trouble has already found me.”
Drawing in a deep breath to calm down, she glanced at the paper lying on the passenger seat to double-check her directions. Another mile and she was to turn left on Pecan Road. From there, she would drive another mile and she’d see the sign for the Painted Pony Guest Ranch on the right. Glancing at her watch and realizing she was going to be a few minutes late, she depressed the gas pedal and sped up the car.
When her gaze alighted on the ranch sign and then caught sight of the majestic mountains jutting beyond in the distance, her rapid pulse began to decrease. Driving through the open gate and down the gravel road, the breath caught in her throat while taking in the blooming cactus and yellow and pink desert flowers dotting both sides of the road. Along the fence-line, more than twenty healthy-looking horses grazed in pastures green with grass. When she’d learned she’d be coming to New Mexico, she’d thought it was all dry desert and tumbleweeds. Surprised and delighted with the beautiful scenery, she felt her tense muscles start to relax.
The moment the timber house and barn came into view, a thrill raced up her spine. The ranch was secluded enough to provide a safe haven. But it would also give her the chance to enjoy nature and work in an uplifting environment for a change. The last few jobs Griffin had set her up with had lacked any kind of mental challenge and had driven her insane with their monotony. Blending in on crowded city streets had been the norm until now. She’d have to heartily thank him for this opportunity the next time they spoke.
As soon as she parked her car at a hitching post in the driveway in front of the house and cut off the motor, she realized she couldn’t get attached to this place, or this job. As with the all the others for the past three years, this one wouldn’t last either. But at least she might have six months if she was lucky.
After checking her face in the mirror, Lindy lifted the bouquet of flowers from the paper sack, stepped out of the car and smoothed down her skirt. Mrs. Roberts had sounded so sweet and pleasant on the phone. She couldn’t wait to meet her in person.
The front door opened before she reached it, and a sixty-something woman with short silver hair greeted her with a huge grin. A quick perusal of the woman wearing jeans, boots and a rhinestone belt brought a smile to Lindy’s face.
“Miss Grainger, I presume?” Mrs. Roberts said.
“Yes. Please call me Lindy.”
“All right, Lindy. Please come in. I’m Ella. I’m so glad to meet you.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, too.” They shook hands, and Ella welcomed her into the foyer. “These are for you,” Lindy said, offering the flowers.
“Thank you!” Ella exclaimed, sniffing the bouquet. “How sweet. Did you have any trouble finding us?” she asked, while showing her into the great room.
“No, your directions were perfect.” Lindy’s gaze swept over the leather furniture and southwestern décor that included a cow skull over the mantel of the stone fireplace. A pool table was tucked into one corner, and one full wall was lined with shelves filled with books. She noticed one shelf held over a dozen of the painted pony statues the ranch must have been named for.
At the far end of the large room was the dining area and kitchen. A twenty-foot long wooden table occupied the space next to the open kitchen. A Mexican woman mixing batter in a bowl at the kitchen counter nodded and smiled.
“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Roberts,” Lindy said. “As are the grounds.”
“Thank you. And please, feel free to call me Ella. Like I told you on the phone, this is a brand new business we’re starting here. My husband and I have been breeding and selling horses for close to forty years, but after he passed away, I decided to open a guest ranch. It’s been a lot of hard work to get the property renovated, but my son is a general contractor. He’s revamped this house in order for it to function as an office and guest headquarters. He’s also overseen the landscaping outside, refurbished a one-room schoolhouse, and built two guest cabins. He’s in the process of finishing one more.”
Lindy smiled, thinking her son must be a superman. “You must be very proud of him. It looks to me like he’s done a marvelous job.”
“That’s kind of you to say. He’s a good son. You’ll get to meet him before long. He’s due to arrive soon.”
“Do you have other children?”
Ella shook her head. “Preston and I had a little girl. Her name was Jill, but she died when she was three years old. Cole was six at the time. He loved his little sister more than the world. She was the light of all of our lives.”
“I’m sorry,” Lindy said, feeling bad and wishing she’d never asked the question. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to ask personal questions. She might have to reciprocate, and getting close to people and letting them glimpse into her life was not a possibility.
“Let me introduce you to our ranch cook,” Ella said, thankfully changing the subject and leading the way to the kitchen. The heels of her cowboy boots clicked against the hardwood floors. As they approached, the rotund Mexican woman set the bowl on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. “Lindy, this is Luz Diaz,” Ella said. “She’s going to handle all the meals here at the Painted Pony. Luz, meet our new housekeeper and masseuse, Lindy Grainger.”
The two women shook hands over the bowl.
“Luz, would you mind putting these beautiful flowers in a vase for me?” Ella handed the bouquet to the woman, who reached into a cabinet and retrieved a glass vase and filled it with tap water.
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“Thank you, Luz. What kind of cookies are you making?” Ella asked.
“Chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin. They’ll go in the freezer until the first guests arrive on Saturday.” She offered some cooled cookies to the women. “Try them.”
“Delicious,” Ella praised after finishing hers. “Luz will keep a plate of cookies and pitchers of lemonade here on the counter for guests to partake of throughout the day,” she explained.
“I love that idea. Your guests will really feel like they’re at home.”
“That’s the plan. Before we go any further, let me show you to your room. Are your bags in your car?”
“Yes, but I can get them later.”
“All right. Follow me. See you, Luz.”
“Adios, Mrs. Roberts. Adios, Lindy.”
After showing Lindy the office, a powder room, and the supplies closet at the end of the hallway, Ella led her up a set of stairs and pointed out her own bedroom, which was at one end of the hall. She opened the door to a room at the other end of the hall and stepped aside for Lindy to enter. “This is your bedroom. I do hope you like it.”
Painted in a soft neutral shade, the room had a welcoming ambience and was decorated tastefully. A queen bed with an oak headboard was covered in a beautiful quilt, and a matching dresser and closet would be more than enough room to store the meager belongings Lindy owned. A small, flat-screen television was installed on the wall.
“You’re hooked up with cable and, of course, you have your own bathroom with a tub and shower,” Ella mentioned with pride. “Does it suit you?”
For the first time in years, Lindy felt tears pricking at her eyes. Mrs. Roberts was overly kind and had gone to a lot of trouble to make her, a stranger, feel at home. It had been so long since she’d felt the comfort of being settled. But as her grateful gaze moved around the room, she once again reminded herself not to feel too content.
“It’s a beautiful bedroom, Ella. Thank you for allowing me to stay here in your home. I’m sure I’ll be quite comfortable.”
Ella’s wide smile showed her pleasure. “It’ll be nice to have someone in the house again. Cole lives in town.” She led Lindy back into the hallway and stepped in front of the remaining door. “Now, for the piece de resistance,” she said, pushing the door open. “Your massage room.”
Lindy couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping when she stepped inside and gazed around. The walls were painted a calming shade of green. Bottles of oils and lotions, and stacks of white towels crowded the shelves of a wicker case in the corner. She noticed a CD player and a small speaker sitting on one of the shelves. A massage table was placed in the center of the room and was covered in a white sheet stretched tight over the rounded corners. Lindy strolled around the room and let her finger drift along the edge of the table.
Ella’s voice rang with the excitement of an infomercial salesperson as she described the table. “This professional table has a wide frame, a multi-layer cushion, an adjustable face rest, and arm slings for added client comfort. I also bought some relaxation CDs. I thought you probably have your own, but I was so excited when I was designing this room, I couldn’t resist picking out a few. What do you think of the room, Lindy?”
After working at a dry cleaner’s, in a factory, and at a city dump, to name a few of her recent terrible jobs, this was like a dream. Lindy almost found herself at a loss for words. “It’s incredible. Your guests are going to love that you’re offering massages.”
“Our web mistress and marketing manager, Doni Lyn, came up with the idea. She says all the high-class resorts offer spa services.”
“She’s right,” Lindy replied.
“Doni Lyn also reminded me that many of my guests will be sore after they’ve gone on trail rides, and they’ll appreciate being able to get a relaxing massage. I hadn’t thought of that since I’ve ridden horses all my life. And at my age, I’m used to dealing with a sore body. I simply slather on Icy Hot and take a bath in Epson salt to get rid of the pain. But I can imagine how a massage would feel better.”
“You’ve never had a massage?”
“No. I thought about it once when Preston and I stayed at a fancy hotel down in El Paso for our twentieth anniversary. But that’s as far as it got—thinking about it.” She chuckled.
“Then you’ll be my first guinea pig,” Lindy said and then smiled at her joke. “I mean, client.”
Ella laughed. “Thank you, Lindy. I’ll take you up on that offer. I’m at a point in my life where I’m willing to take chances and try new things.”
They stepped into the hall again and Ella closed the door behind them. Her brows furrowed. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle the housekeeping duties as well as being our massage therapist? I’m afraid it’ll be too much for you.”
“Honestly, I don’t expect the massage business to be booming—at least not at first. It might be difficult for me to live on that salary alone, so I appreciate your letting me take on the housekeeping chores as well.”
Ella graced her with an earnest smile. “I understand. We’ll talk about those duties later, but for now, I want to show you the meditation garden and the barn. Come with me.”
Lindy followed her downstairs and outside and was bowled over by the beauty of the garden that was located behind the house. She assured Ella that sitting on one of the benches in front of the Mexican sandstone fountain and listening to its bubbling would be enough to soothe a person’s problems away. Add the terra cotta pots of flowers and desert landscaping, with the blue skies above and the mountains in the background, and this was heaven on earth.
“Cole designed the garden,” Ella informed her.
“He sounds like quite the Renaissance man.”
“He is. I’ll take you to the barn now and introduce you to my wranglers.” Ella led the way down a slight slope to the barn. It had a metal roof that was painted sky blue, which made Lindy smile.
Three men stopped stacking hay bales when the two women entered. The trio simultaneously removed their cowboy hats and slicked back their hat-flattened hair. They nodded at Ella and then set their captivated gazes on Lindy.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Roberts,” the tallest man greeted.
“Good afternoon. Boys, I want you to meet Lindy Grainger. She’s the newest member of the Painted Pony staff. She’s going to be our massage therapist. The new massage room is located on the second floor of the house.”
When their three sets of eyes widened in surprise, Ella laughed out loud. Lindy even suppressed a chuckle.
“Massage therapist?” the same one who had spoken before questioned.
“Yes, Dalton. The Painted Pony Ranch is offering spa services along with trail riding, shooting, and all the other good stuff you men are going to do with our guests. Lindy is a professional masseuse. She’s going to bring some class to this old ranch.”
“That’s a guarantee,” Dalton agreed, smiling at Lindy.
She felt her face grow warm at his pointed stare. Dalton was a handsome man, almost as nice looking as the dark-haired fellow back at the grocery store. Only this wrangler was taller than that man, probably over six feet, and had green eyes, auburn hair, and a moustache the same red color. She guessed him to be close to her age.
“Whatever you do, don’t call Dalton Red, ma’am,” chuckled the youngest looking cowboy. “He hates that nickname more than he hates broccoli.”
“I didn’t know you hated broccoli,” Ella said, looking disappointed.
“Yes, ma’am. It doesn’t suit my delicate nature,” he said, still gawking at Lindy. The other two wranglers snickered.
“That’s Dalton,” Ella said, rolling her eyes in jest. She walked Lindy past him to stand in front of a brown-haired man, whom Lindy guessed to be in his twenties. “This is Sandy, and the young fellow here is T.J. He’s nineteen and just hired on. I’ve known his folks for years.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Sandy and T.J. chimed in unison.
“Same here,” Lin
dy said, shaking all their hands.
With the sound of a vehicle rolling across gravel and coming to a stop outside, Ella turned her head. “That must be Cole. Let’s go and I’ll introduce you to him. See you later, boys,” she said, waving goodbye.
As they were exiting the barn, Lindy heard one of the wranglers say, “I wouldn’t mind getting a massage from that pretty lady.” She didn’t dare turn around to see who was talking, but she hoped it wasn’t Dalton. Although the cowboy was intriguing, she wasn’t here to meet a man or start any kind of a relationship. There was no room in her life for either.
“You’re going to like Cole,” Ella chattered as they trudged up the hill to the parking area in front of the house, or headquarters, as Ella told her it was to be known as from now on. “He’s the kindest, sweetest, most likeable man I know,” she said simply. “But it’s been a rough year for him, too. Losing his father and then a girlfriend hasn’t been easy.”
Whether or not Mrs. Roberts had intended on giving away that tidbit of information, Lindy wasn’t sure. But it was impossible not to have caught the part about her son having recently lost a girlfriend. Had she died, too? How awful, if that were the case.
“Cole!” shouted Ella.
Lindy’s gaze landed on the broad back of a man who stood at the bumper of her car staring down at the broken taillight. Instinctively, the first thing she noticed was how snug his tight jeans fit his muscular-looking legs. The second thing she noted was that his fingers were curled into fists on his hips. Something about that stance looked familiar. Too familiar.
“Cole!” Ella hollered again as they approached.
The man turned, and his bright blue eyes delved into Lindy. He gazed at her so intently, as if reading her most intimate thoughts, and her heart began to pound with an insane rhythm.
“It’s you,” he said.
Three
A feather could have knocked Cole over. What was she doing here at the ranch? Had she taken a wrong turn, gotten lost and was asking for directions? Their gazes remained fused for what seemed like an eternity. She appeared to be as surprised to see him as he was to see her. The heat rose on his neck as he drank her in from her big brown eyes to the shapely legs beneath her denim skirt.
Tularosa Moon Page 2