by Camryn Rhys
“I’m out here with fifteen people, Mama. Not just Kyle.” But a tight shift of Jamie’s shoulders belied the confidence in her tone. “Besides, if you don’t let me run this my way, then we’ll never know if it really works.”
She took a long breath. Her daughter was right. They’d been planning this program shift for so long—with Mattie spending more time at the house and Jamie being the program head. But once again, it came down to trusting magick.
Do I trust Fate to work in Jamie’s favor? Not to bowl her over. But only to awaken what was dormant in her heart?
Brady pounded on the back of the wagon and both women jumped. “Are you coming, Mom? We won’t get back before dark if we don’t leave now.”
Mattie kissed Jamie’s forehead, although her daughter still didn’t look up from the food. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe the magick was already working.
“Eat all of that crumble,” Mattie said. “And make sure Kyle uses those spice blends when he cooks.”
“I will.”
“He didn’t use them at dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Jamie.” Mattie lowered her tone enough that her daughter finally made eye contact with her. “We have to be able to sell the products to the customers at the end of the week.”
“I know, Mom.” She scraped the bottom of the tin and scooped out the last bit of the apple bits, forking them into her mouth. “I promise.”
Brady pulled on her arm, and she finally let him move her away from her daughter. She hated leaving Jamie to her own defenses with the magick, but it was the only way she’d have it. And Mattie wasn’t going to waste this opportunity to see if Jamie’s heart would open back up.
“You’re not using magick up here, are you?” Brady whispered as they walked away.
She shook off his grip. “Don’t say that word in public, Brady. You know that.”
His sigh was long, and he kept pushing air out long after Mattie assumed he was done. “I asked you not to use magick anymore.”
“It’s just a few spices. Nothing hurts anyone. Magick doesn’t make anyone’s decisions for them. Just reveals their heart.”
“It’s not a good idea, Mom.” He pulled her off the path.
Paul was still back at the camp, presumably saying goodbye to his blonde friend, and they were practically isolated among the white wood trees. Only the horses, who were just up ahead, were their companions. And Mattie could already tell, Brady had something brewing.
“You mess around with people’s lives, or magick does, and it fucks with the future.” His breath came quick, like he had adrenaline pumping behind his words. “We’re running a business here, Mom. That’s dangerous.”
Mattie narrowed her vision, focusing in on her son. “Being a witch has always been a struggle for you, honey. You ignored it until you couldn’t, and now you repress it, and I understand. Magick has dealt you a hard hand. But that doesn’t mean Fate is out to get everyone.”
Brady shook his head and took off down the path. He pulled the cowboy hat off his head, smacking it against his blue-jeaned thigh. “Dammit, Mom. You are magick-blind. You think that because Fate says so, everyone should hop to.”
The pain in her son’s voice ripped through Mattie’s heart. She went after him, but by the time she’d almost reached him, he was off again. She hurried her pace so she could catch him, and when he stopped to open the gate on the corral, she grabbed his arm.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She tugged on his t-shirt. “Please. You have to know, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His hard swallow was audible, even over the skittering horses. He bowed his head, spreading his hands out on the white wood. “You never do. But people get hurt. And if you keep using magick, more people will get hurt.”
She rubbed his arm, sorrow bubbling up in her heart. He held her responsible for what’d happened to Rachel, and apparently he would never understand why she did what she did. But Brady could hold a grudge like no one’s business, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get him to forgive her.
“I want all my children to be happy,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word. “And I believe Fate knows the best way to get their hearts to open up to love.”
“It was one thing with the choosing spell,” he said, his hands gripping the fence until his knuckles went white. “Because it was harmless. But messing around with people’s futures. Mom. You can’t do that.”
“Fine, then.” Mattie ran the other hand down Brady’s back, like she had when he was little, to calm him. “How about if I tell Kyle not to use the spice blends?”
“I would prefer it.” Brady gestured around the open field, taking in the horses and the trees and the river. “We’ve worked hard to secure this living for our family. I don’t want to put it in jeopardy because you want to help push some tourist into a love match. We provide the location and Jamie does the programs. They don’t need any help from Fate.”
“Okay, honey.”
“Let people make their own choices.” Brady pulled the corral open and shut in quick succession. “For once.”
She nodded, leaning on the fence and watching her son walk away. He was such a good man, Brady. He had his father’s stubbornness, but he was genuinely good. There weren’t enough good men left in the world.
Chapter Eight
Kyle sat next to Jamie at the campfire and watched the light play shadow games over the contours of her beautiful face. Every ounce of his blood heated against the cold night, and not from the roaring blaze in front of them.
With her family gone, Jamie was in her element, setting up the next four days of the trip. She was animated and enthusiastic and hot as hell.
Everyone sat on the edge of their seat listening to her talk about day trips and hikes, tubing in the river, and all sorts of activities designed to create space for romance. And then of course, there were the nights.
The times when Kyle would create a feast fit for lovers, and the guests would pair up and eat in the firelight.
He could see why Lana had wanted to have a matchmaking trail ride. It promised certainty. They had been pre-tested for similar qualities and provided with three secret matches—one for each nights’ dinner. There would even be a selection ceremony. Like a reality show.
Jamie was a matchmaker, an event planner, a cowgirl, a poet. Every moment he spent with her, Kyle wanted her more.
He wanted to grab her hand, or touch her thigh, or lean over and kiss her when the group started talking about something and she sat there quietly, looking introspective.
This was the quickest he’d ever fallen for someone in his entire life. If the pretense between them was dropped, and he was free to pursue her, he would’ve had her pressed up against a tree before she could take off her cowboy hat.
Come to think of it, I might prefer the cowboy hat on. It added to the flare that was Jamie Banfield. His blood pumped hard. Thankfully, he’d been issued his own cowboy hat, which he laid over his crotch, just in case.
“And on the last night,” she said, “when we get back to the ranch, you’ll have the opportunity to shower and get into the formal outfit we asked you to bring, and we’ll take you into town to the Blue Moon for a night of dinner and dancing, so Kyle here can have the night to prep for next week’s trail ride.”
“And you?” one of the men asked.
Kyle couldn’t see the guy’s face, but he fisted the hand at his side and put his arm in front of Jamie’s body. “She’s off-limits, buddy. Remember?”
She pushed his arm away and grunted. “I’ll be right beside you all, of course, helping you make your decisions for the week’s matches, and helping you make your final decision. My mother and brother will take accompany us on our final excursion.”
“Which brother?”
Lana.
Kyle couldn’t see her on the other side of the fire, but wanted to roll his eyes. She’d undoubtedly found some new guy to sink her claws into, but either she enjoyed tormenting Jamie, or she wanted to m
ake the new guy jealous.
“Brady,” Jamie answered with a hint of venom. “Our friends own the Blue Moon, and we close down the whole place just for the seven couples that will emerge from this week’s adventure.”
He shifted to the edge of his seat and tried to see across the flames into his ex-wife’s face, but he couldn’t find it. He willed her to close her mouth.
“Who makes our final match decision?”
“For the final dinner? I will.” Jamie looked around the circle at the suddenly chatty guests and raised an arm. “But don’t worry. If you’re unhappy with your match experience, you’ll have the ability to exchange numbers and contact information at the end of the week with whomever you choose.”
“Except the staff,” added Kyle pointedly—as much to Lana as to the leer-y guy, but Jamie still elbowed him.
She happened to catch him straight in the spot where he’d hit the dirt under her earlier that afternoon and all the breath left his body. He doubled over, and his cowboy hat fell to the ground, but Jamie kept talking.
“We only choose your final match to make sure everyone has a partner at our Dine’n’Dance, and no one gets Dodgeballed.”
After finding his breath at last, Kyle rested his elbows on his knees so it might look like he hadn’t just nearly fallen on his face. In an odd but comforting move, she rubbed his back in a circular motion. While it didn’t do much for his racing libido, it did help the pain radiating through his back.
“The only thing we ask is that you sleep alone.” Her hand froze and she must have removed it, because the residual warmth of her skin was all he felt.
“Like I said, our only rules are ‘stay in sight’ and ‘sleep alone. At least, on the trail. We want you to be thinking clearly when you’re on your dates. We want you to have some freedom to explore the landscape, and each other.”
“How are we supposed to figure out whether we want to be with someone if we can’t have sex with them?”
Kyle rolled his eyes at Lana’s question. She had a one-track mind. All the test drives in the world.
Jamie sighed quietly, taking Lana’s bullshit much better than he would have in her place. “You all indicated on your applications that your primary goal for this trail ride was to find a long-term relationship. So, we’ve given you each your own tent, sized for one, to ensure you sleep alone. And when we go out on our day trips, I’ll be in front of the group so make sure you stay in sight, because Kyle will stay here. And on your last night, you’re free to make whatever choices you’d like, once we’ve got some more privacy, back at the ranch, in the lodge.”
Lana’s hmph was loud enough, it made a couple of the men’s heads turn. But Jamie wasn’t fazed at all.
“There are lots of ways to hook up back in Denver,” she said sweetly. “If that’s what you want—and you’ve every right to do what you’d like. But this experience is for people who want to find the love of their lives.”
She pulled off her cowboy hat and gestured to the two exits out of the campfire. “Okay, now. Go ahead and find your tents. Don’t forget your flashlights, and please don’t go to the unlit pieces of the riverbank. It’s slippery down there, and while it might be slow-moving and shallow, it’s not safe to walk around the river at night.”
She looked up, and Kyle did as well. Most of the dark space above them was partially obscured by the tree canopy, but there was no moon, so the floodlights were quite visible in the flatter part of the riverbank that connected the camp and the corral area, even from almost a hundred yards away.
“Have a good night’s rest. Kyle will ring the bell in the morning for breakfast.” Jamie tugged his arm as the rest of the guests made their way toward the individual tents. “We’ll have to put out the fire tonight with those water buckets, then once everyone’s in bed, we can turn in.”
“Y’know, I never got a real introduction into this job.” He let a little of the wry humor he felt creep into his tone. Everyone else was gone. He wanted to bait her again. “You keep throwing me into situations and telling me what to do in the middle, or expecting me to know what I’m doing already.”
She stopped her progress and turned, a look of concern creasing her pretty features. “I’m sorry. I’m just used to Charity, or my mom.”
Kyle waved his hand. “I know, I know. I was just giving you a hard time.”
“I really am sorry, though. I know I was slightly bitchy with you this morning. I’m still not really used to the idea of Charity being gone.” She paused, as though she might continue, but stepped back onto the path instead and progressed toward the food area, which they’d already cleaned and locked for the night.
They passed the canopied wooden cage-like-thing that protected the wagon and all the equipment and food, and Jamie pulled the locks on the gate. They were secure. She grabbed two of the full water pails Brady had left to douse the campfire. She handed one to Kyle and turned back down the path, but he stood in front of her.
“Let me take the pails, Jamie. I’ll put the fire out, and you can get ready for bed.” He couldn’t stop the way his voice dropped at the end of that sentence. He reached for the pail, and she shifted it away from him, sloshing some of the water out in the process.
She placed a hand on his chest and stopped his reach. “I’ve got it.”
“It doesn’t take two people to put out a fire.”
The nose wrinkle Jamie pulled on him was so adorable, he could’ve kissed every inch of her face. He almost touched that perky little nose, but refrained.
“Maybe I want to be alone with you, Harris. Did you ever think about that?” The edge in her voice wasn’t a pretense. She was really flustered, and it made him want to kiss her even more.
“Why would you need to be alone with me?”
“Well, we need to talk about tomorrow, first of all.” Jamie pushed past him and led the way back down to the campfire. “Grab the shovel,” she said as she passed it.
She wasn’t above making him do manual labor. Or perhaps that was her asserting her dominance in this situation. Either way, it was hot.
What kind of sorry state have I gotten myself into when a woman ordering me to pick up a gardening implement makes me want to have sex?
Shit. I have it bad.
“What’s second of all?” he asked.
There was just enough light by which he could watch the cute little sway of her hips, and he suddenly wondered if the light would go away if they put out the campfire. Surely the floodlights at the end of the path by the river couldn’t be that bright.
If it was that dark down this way, what would keep guests from coming out there and ignoring the ‘sleep alone’ policy? Or staff, for that matter?
This might’ve all seemed like a great idea in conception, to have a matchmaking club out in the middle of nowhere, but it rendered rule enforcement somewhat problematic.
“There was no second-of-all.” Jamie set her bucket down and grabbed the shovel from him. She sent a couple piles of dirt toward the fire, and it started to dim. Another two or three and it was barely enough light to see the ground. She dropped the shovel and pointed to his pail. “Wait on yours until it’s embers. I’ll put mine on then do a bit more dirt.”
“Won’t that make it hard to start tomorrow?”
“We’ll come down and clear out the fire pit in the morning.”
Kyle smiled and shook his head. “You’re just gonna keep surprising me with things to do until you drive me out of this job, aren’t you?”
She paused with her pail poised to douse the fire. If the light had been brighter, he might’ve known what her expression meant, but as it was, he didn’t much care. He could stare at her just about forever.
“It was in the packet Brady emailed you about onsite duties.”
Kyle tried to remember all the emails he and Brady had traded the previous day, after he learned he’d been hired. There’d been so much to do, with form filling-out and menu planning, which had been practically obsolete once
he’d gotten there, between Mattie’s strange need to control the spices he used, and the inexcusable state of the pantry.
Jamie shoveled more dirt onto the dead flames, and gestured for him to throw his pail. As he did, she walked around the fire and stood next to him, watching the water hit the last of the charred wood.
“Don’t worry, Jamie. After you taste my pancakes in the morning, you won’t be thinking about getting rid of me.” Kyle glanced at her, and she was close enough he could see the contours of her face in the ambient light from the lights at the river.
Her lips pursed, and she studied him, as though trying to find the answer to some pancake-related quandary. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Kyle. That’s the problem.”
His discomfort flared and he shifted from one foot to the other. His body wanted to respond, like he wasn’t in control of it, but he bit his lip. He wasn’t going to be that guy. Some weird unstoppable force was propelling them together and he wasn’t going to let her slip away because of a marriage that didn’t exist anymore.
Fuck the job.
“I need to tell you something.” Kyle’s heart pounded in his throat and the words tumbled out so fast, he couldn’t have reeled them in if he wanted to. “Your brother interviewed me in April, and at the time, when he asked me if I was married, I said yes, because… my divorce wasn’t final yet.”
No light was necessary to read the shock on her face. Her mouth dropped, her eyes went wide. “Wh—uh… What…” She swallowed and the shovel dropped to the ground. “Divorce?”
“I need you to know.” He licked his lips and stared at hers. Even in the dark, they looked delectable. “Brady didn’t ask me again this time. He just called me and told me to show up on Monday. I didn’t know being married was a big part of the job or I would have said something.”
“So, you’re not…” Jamie took a long breath, pressing her hands in the air like she was pushing something down. “You’re not married?”
“I was separated when I talked to Brady in April. My divorce was final by the time I found out I didn’t get the job. I figured—”