Harvesting Hope: in Saddleback Ridge

by Milan Watson

  The scent of stale beer, crushed peanuts and a blended variety of sweat, perfume and aftershave hung in the air. The music was old school country and the crowd was local. It was the perfect way to wind down.

  Drake reached for some of the peanuts on offer and Dusty cringed. Ever since reading something about the amount of bacteria that festers in a bowl of pub peanuts he hadn’t touched them again. Drake popped two in his mouth and swallowed before reaching for his beer. “I used my own money to buy the seeds so he can’t be angry about that.”

  “You heard him, Drake; he said he doesn’t want no beer brewed on Falcon Falls,” Dusty said with an arched brow.

  Ever since Drake had returned from college he had clung to the dream of producing Falcon Falls craft beer. Dusty had never knocked it since the dude ranch had been his dream, but their father had made it clear this wasn’t the prohibition.

  “I know what he said, I was right there. But if I can find a place to brew it and let him taste it, then he’ll understand. It’s a niche market, one that has many footholds in this state. I know it’s a leap but I also know I can do it,” Drake said with the same determination Dusty had used whenever he tried to convince someone about his plans for the dude ranch.

  “Look, I agree. I think to have a brewery on Falcon Falls would be a great bonus for my guests as well, I’m just saying you need to find a way to get the old man to agree.” Dusty shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “You could use the old hunting cabin,” he added with a grin.

  “I’ll talk to Betty,” Drake said with a nod. “She ought to understand that it would be profitable for the ranch.”

  Dusty nearly coughed his beer all over the bar counter. “You involve Betty and you know he’ll never agree.”

  Drake sighed. “Fine, I won’t talk to Betty. Why are you so grumpy anyway? I thought you were flying high now that construction on your dream has begun.”

  Dusty let out a wry laugh. “Yeah, strange how dreams can change overnight.”

  “What? You don’t want the dude ranch anymore? Heck, if that’s what’s bothering you you’d better speak up before dad skins you. No wait, keep quiet, that way he’ll be too pissed with you to even argue with me about opening a craft brewery.”

  Dusty chuckled. “Naw, it’s not the dude ranch it’s just…”

  Drake rubbed his jaw with a sardonic brow. “It’s Gemma, isn’t it?”

  Dusty could deny it, he knew Drake wouldn’t push him, but after socking his brother without good reason it wouldn’t be right to lie. “Yeah, it’s Gemma.”

  “I’m no Dr. Phil but I have been known to have a soft shoulder and a patient ear.”

  Dusty couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled from his throat. “Whoever told you that was a liar.”

  “Hey, don’t knock Betty,” Drake cautioned with a mischievous grin. “What’s the deal? You two going to keep on pretending that you don’t still have feelings for each other?”

  Dusty frowned. “Wait, what? Did she say something to you?”

  Drake sighed. “Dusty, girls don’t talk to guys about guys. Have I taught you nothing?”

  “I’m older than you, I taught you,” Dusty said holding up his beer.

  “It’s clear as daylight by the way you’re avoidin’ each other that something is brewing, and I haven’t even opened the brewery yet.”

  Dusty had never been one to kiss and tell and he wasn’t about to start now, but perhaps Drake could give him some advice at least. “I don’t know how she feels. I know how I feel but I’m afraid of telling her, she ran ten years ago, Drake. I’m not sure I can stand her running again.”

  Drake slapped him on the back with a cocky grin. “If you look at me like that I’d be running as well.”

  “What?” Dusty asked, offended. “Knock it off, Drake.”

  Drake smiled, all the banter and teasing gone from his voice. “If you really like her, you should tell her. Girls don’t like guessin’ games. Why don’t you go over there right now and tell her you never stopped loving her. Tell her you’ve carved her name into every tree on the ranch, you’ve had Betty embroider your underwear with her initials. Tell her you’ve been a sorry ass for the last ten years just because you waited for her and while you’re at it you might want to tell her you’re afraid of spiders as well.”

  Dusty sighed. Clearly this wasn’t the night to have a heart to heart with Drake. He glanced towards the door and decided against it. She left without saying goodbye, without even leaving word for him why. He wasn’t going to run after someone that didn’t feel the same way he did. Drake might have been exaggerating, but Dusty could imagine doing every one of those things if only she’d be his.

  “I’m not afraid of spiders,” Dusty finally said, taking a sip of his beer.

  Drake chuckled. “I know, it’s the moths you can’t stand. You slap at them like a five year old and scream like a little girl whenever they come close.”

  Dusty squared his shoulders. “That’s only because I don’t like having moth in my beer.”

  “Yeah right,” Drake said, holding up his beer. “To us being as lucky as Ford. Although it pains me to see our oldest brother bending the knee to a city girl, but she’s the right girl for him.”

  Dusty smiled and pushed thoughts of Gemma aside. “To Ford. She’s stubborn, but the right kind of stubborn for him.”

  They tapped their beers before taking a drink, but Dusty was already wondering if Gemma wasn’t the right type of stubborn for him.

  Chapter 21

  Not everyone understood her taste in music but Gemma had long since stopped caring what other people thought. If she wanted to listen to hard metallic rock before dawn it was her choice, just like she enjoyed Édith Piaf on a late Saturday afternoon.

  The busy morning noise from Main Street had eased and all that drifted in through her windows now was the warm evening breeze. Summer didn’t have much time left but Gemma wanted to cherish every second it still gave her.

  She poured herself a glass of wine and walked out to her balcony, only to see Bobby crossing Main Road from the bakery. She was carrying a few shopping bags, sliding them onto one arm as she waved. “Hey, open up!”

  Gemma cocked a brow. “I’m not going, Bobby.”

  Bobby made a never mind gesture as she disappeared to the side of the building. Knowing this was a battle she needed to steel herself for, Gemma took a sip of wine before she went to open the door.

  “Édith Piaf? Seriously?” Bobby cocked a brow as she stepped into Gemma’s apartment.

  “I like her music, it’s poignant,” Gemma said, feeling the need to defend herself.

  “Well, it will make for good background music while we get ready,” Bobby said, putting down the bags.

  “I’m not going,” Gemma said firmly. “I’ve told you that about three times over the last few days.”

  Bobby placed her hands on her hips. “You also told me you didn’t like Dusty Caldwell anymore and look how easily you proved yourself wrong. Come on, Gemma. The entire town is going to the engagement party and don’t even try using your ankle as an excuse.” She glanced down at Gemma’s brace-less ankle. “Sally Wilkins stopped by the bakery this morning and mentioned that doc took off the brace.”

  “Just because I don’t have to wear that monstrosity anymore doesn’t mean I’m ready for an evening of dancing.”

  “Fine, an evening of being present. Kelly and Betty have gone through a lot of trouble to dress up the barn for tonight, you’re not really going to chicken out are you?” Bobby wasn’t backing down.

  Gemma sighed. “I haven’t heard from him in ten days. Not a single text or phone call. Doesn’t that clue you in that he wouldn’t want me there?”

  “And have you sent a single text or made a single phone call since you vanished from the ranch? Word is you didn’t even say goodbye.” Bobby pushed even harder.

  “This is what I hate about small towns. The gossip mill is more active than church at Christmas.” Gemma huffed
.

  “We’re going and that’s that. Otherwise I’ll call Ford’s pretty fiancée and tell her that you don’t want to celebrate her engagement.”

  “You won’t. You don’t even have her number.” Gemma hedged.

  Bobby’s mouth curled into an evil grin. “Honey, it wouldn’t take me five seconds to get her number. Don’t push me. I bought you a dress so I suggest you take a shower and we get ready for the last hoedown of summer.”

  Gemma was about to argue when she knew Bobby’s threat wasn’t an empty one. Kelly had been nothing but kind to her while she stayed at the ranch. “Fine, but I’m only going for Kelly’s sake. One hour and I’m leaving.”

  Bobby sighed. “Fine, one hour is better than nothing I guess.” She reached for Gemma’s glass of wine and took a sip. “You go take that shower; I’m going to wind down a little before I get ready.”

  When Gemma pulled out the cocktail dress Bobby had bought her, her breath simply caught. “This is a bit too much, isn’t it?”

  “The theme is country lace; I’d say it fits the theme perfectly.” Bobby smiled as she scrunched her black curls with the hair dryer. “This is fun; it feels like back when we got ready for prom together.”

  Gemma remembered the fond memory. “The only difference is that prom I wanted to go to.”

  “You can’t avoid Dusty forever, Gemma…” Bobby said quietly as she switched off the hairdryer. “What happened anyway?”

  Gemma shrugged. She hadn’t given Bobby any details, although the memories of the night they had shared were still vivid in her mind. “Nothing, besides it doesn’t matter. One hour,” she reminded Bobby as she put on the dress.

  The cocktail dress had a flesh colored lining that was covered with lace. The most exquisite kind. It hugged her every curve and clocked out over her thighs. Lost in the moment Gemma swayed, making the lace shimmy against her knees. “Bobby, it’s beautiful.”

  “I know, right. I got it at the vintage shop on the other end of Main Street. Best find of the year I’d say.”

  Her only regret of the pretty lace dress was that she couldn’t wear a pair of heels, instead she settled for a pair of sandals she had bought when she had lived in the city. The silver straps and white flowers complimented her dress.

  It took them another hour to do wine and makeup, talking the whole time. By the time they arrived at The Barn it was packed, with both familiar faces and new. Gemma spotted Kelly and Ford right away. Kelly looked beautiful and happy, and Ford Caldwell for all his toughness looked like a whipped pup. Gemma couldn’t help but feel her heart fill with emotion to see him so happy.

  The champagne was tart, the music country, and the dancing ranged from two step to line dance. Gemma didn’t want to search for Dusty but her eyes scoured the crowd nonetheless. Her heart stopped the moment she spotted him. He wore a new pair of Wranglers, his hat low over his brow. The crisp white shirt was accompanied with a bolo tie. He was laughing at something Patty-Sue said before he looked up and their gazes locked.

  Gemma had left the ranch without saying goodbye because she couldn’t stand to face him if it hadn’t meant as much to him as it did to her, but even across a sea of people Gemma could see in his gaze that it had meant something to him as well. For the first time since leaving Falcon Falls she wondered if she had done the right thing by not saying goodbye.

  She felt anger swirl in her mind. If it meant something to him why hadn’t he called? Feeling her cheeks flush with his gaze searching hers, Gemma knew it was time to get some fresh air. The dance floor was buzzing with a group of line dancers but Gemma skirted around them towards the doors. She had promised Bobby an hour and that meant another ten minutes before she could escape. Bobby didn’t say that hour had to be inside.

  Gemma welcomed the cooler evening air as she stepped outside. There were a few tables situated outside the barn but she walked past them to the railing that overlooked the mountains in the distance. When she heard footsteps coming towards her she let out a sigh.

  “Bobby, I said an hour…” her voice trailed off as she was faced with Dusty instead.

  Chapter 22

  Dusty clenched his hands at his sides to stop himself from reaching out to her. The punch of desire was just as strong as that night in the bathroom as he searched her green gaze. This woman was everything he wanted and yet she kept running from him.

  With music drifting out from The Barn, he held her gaze. When he had learned she’d left without saying goodbye it had broken his heart. Over the last week he’d tried to remind himself a million times that Gemma wasn’t interested in more than one night, but right now her eyes told a different story.

  He’d been busy with the dude ranch and the business with the snares, but now couldn’t help but regret that he hadn’t taken a moment to call her. “Gemma…” his voice was hoarse but he didn’t move. They were about six feet apart, but for the look in her eyes he might have been in a different state.

  “What do you want, Dusty?” Temper laced her voice as she crossed her arms.

  “I see you’re off the brace?” Dusty knew he was making small talk and he hated small talk.

  “Yeah, doc says I just have to take it slow.” Gemma answered before shaking her head. “I’m not doing this again. I’m not pretending what happened didn’t happen. We’ve been here before, Dusty, this dance is getting old.”

  Dusty felt the corners of his mouth tilt with amusement. “And yet we haven’t even danced tonight.”

  Dusty had danced with a few girls tonight but not one of them fit against his frame like Gemma did. Not one of them made him dream of illicit touches in the dark or soft murmurs at dawn. Regardless of being stumped by her twice, she was still the only girl he wanted.

  “Don’t do this, Dusty…” Gemma said pleadingly.

  Dusty had come out here to talk to her, to try and find out why she had left without saying goodbye, but her indifference had his own anger rearing its head. “Don’t do what, Gemma? Don’t call you out for running away back then, or don’t call you out for running away ten days ago?” He pulled off his hat and dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re right; I’m tired of this dance as well. You don’t want this, then come out and say it,” he said gruffly.

  Gemma’s eyes widened. “Say what, Dusty? You don’t want me to say that I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me back then? That I regret losing almost a decade of my life after knowing what we could’ve had? I can’t be with someone who doesn’t talk to me. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t fight for me and I sure as hell won’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you?” Dusty cried out, flummoxed. “Yeah, I made a mistake, but this time it’s on you. I had a problem on the ranch and didn’t get back until lunchtime. Don’t you think I wanted to stay with you? I had work to do, Gemma! Next thing I know you’re gone like the wind without even saying goodbye.” He let out a defeated sigh. He wanted to fight for her but not if she didn’t want to fight for him.

  “I left without saying goodbye because I was afraid!” Gemma’s voice rose.

  “Afraid of what? My dad’s been around a while; he wouldn’t have embarrassed you if he found out.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of your father, you idiot! I was afraid of seeing you…”

  Gemma stopped mid-sentence as footsteps approached them. When Gemma’s eyes widened Dusty turned to see who it was.

  Betty, all five foot four of her was bristling with condemnation. “I don’t know what you two are yellin’ about, but it stops now. They’re about to make the speeches. I expect you both to make nice and be in The Barn in two minutes or else…” With that she turned and walked right back into the venue.

  Dusty wanted Gemma to finish that sentence but he knew now wasn’t the time or place. He let out a huff. “Come on.”

  Gemma shrugged her arm away when he reached for her hand. “She said make nice, not hold hands!” She stomped into the barn ahead of him, making him bristle even more.

/>   His father had always said that their mother’s temper was as bewitching as it was damning at times, now for the first time Dusty understood what that meant. He walked into The Barn just as Kelly and Ford took a spot on the dance floor while Clayton made a speech. Gemma moved towards Bobby just as Dusty moved in the other direction towards his brothers.

  She might think their conversation was over, but it was far from over and she wouldn’t walk out on him again before she finished that sentence.

  Chapter 23

  Gemma stood beside Bobby but her gaze kept darting towards Dusty. Why was it that his scent smelled like home and his smile felt like her future, even when he wasn’t smiling at her?

  She turned her gaze to Ford and Kelly and listened as a toast was made in their honor. Why couldn’t she and Dusty have that, she wondered with a sigh. They had the sparks and the magic, but they also had the fire. Whenever they were in each other’s company for more than five seconds the flames ignited the desire but at the same time scorched her heart.

  She couldn’t keep dousing the flames. Perhaps it was time she just forgot about him. It was as if they were on a hamster wheel that kept running without letting them step out of the past. Deep down she knew why, because the past wasn’t really the past. To her Dusty had always been the future.

  A song began to play and she brushed away a tear as she watched Ford and Kelly take to the dance floor. Drake grabbed a waitress from the diner; Clayton led Betty to the dance floor even as Logan came to ask Bobby for the dance. Only Dusty didn’t move. Her heart was oozing with need but she couldn’t keep on needing a man that didn’t trust her.

  She turned and grabbed her purse before making her way to the door. Her hour was over. Just as she was about to leave she felt a hand on her shoulder. Gemma turned to find Dusty’s warm brown gaze searching hers. “Dance with me.”