by Mima
They rode in silence again for a short ways, and then he said, “Listen. You can hear it now.”
She heard the call of a jay, and then the distant hiss of steady pouring water. “It sounds bigger than what I was expecting.”
“It’s not that big. Nice, though. I hope it’s pretty enough for my Fairy Queen.”
The smell of evergreen was rich in the sun-warmed afternoon, and the stronger scent of horse was coming to her now, too. But when they turned through tighter brush, threading through a younger forest, the deeper cool of damp caverns washed over her with a lovely whiff of water.
The stream poured over a smooth rock cliff about thirty feet up. It leapt off in a rounded arc near the top, but landed in a bubbling spray about halfway down, widening into a frilly white cascade. The cascade shimmered over mossy rocks into a deep black pool. The stream snaked around some boulders and off into the trees.
“Oh, Walt. It’s fantastic.”
Wheezy came to a stop and lowered his head to take a drink.
“Glad you like it.” His hands settled on her waist. “Lift your right leg over.” He picked her up and she kicked her leg so she was side-seated again. “Jump down.”
The ground looked far, but she nodded and jumped. Her knees took the landing hard. She staggered a bit, surprised at how loose her legs felt. By the time she’d taken a few stretching steps, Walt was off Wheezy in a smooth dismount and tying his reins to a tree.
“I have horse butt,” she joked, staring at his ass in his very unfashionable thick blue jeans. “If this is anything like bike butt, I’ll be sore for days.”
He glanced over at her. “It will take a couple days to build stamina, but the pain will fade quick. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in your own saddle.”
She smiled at him, hands in the small of her back as she arched side to side. “I wouldn’t bet on that. It felt pretty comfortable. Your belt buckle was the only thing I minded.”
He wandered closer to the waterfall, leaned in and wet a blue bandana. She came up next to him, sighing at the spray-filled breeze the water created.
“It’ll feel good to wipe your face.” He held the bandana out to her.
She took it, and boy, did it ever feel fantastic. She blotted across her brow and cheeks, then dipped it behind her neck and down her throat. “Have you ever gone swimming here?”
She wet the bandana again, rinsed it, and handed it back to him, freshened.
“Sure,” he said, shrugging. He took his hat off and put the bandana inside it. “Will you hold this?”
She took it, and stepped back as he maneuvered onto the uneven rocks at the base of the falls. His boots were not made for exploring waterfalls, and he clearly worked for his balance. When he got right up next to the water, he braced against the cliff and bent to dip his head. The force of the mist was quite hard and his whole torso was soaked in an instant. He stood up and shook his head with a shouted, “Hoo-eee!”
Then he turned, awkwardly, and made his way back to the shore. He grinned at her, breathless, dripping. His plaid shirt was almost transparent, revealing a deeply muscled chest. It was suddenly a little hard to breathe.
He scraped a hand over his face, shoving his hair back with his fingers. “Aw, shucks. Now I’ll have to do my hair again for the hoedown.”
His smile was wide, and without his hat, he looked more approachable. His eyes glowed a rich mix of colors in the forest shade.
She stepped up to him in one quick, decisive stride. “You’re even more awesome than Wheezy.” She stood so close to him, his hat clamped in her hands. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Simple, you mean?” There was an edge to his voice for the first time.
“No.” Well, he was, but it was delightful. “Solid. I thought so the first time I saw you. You’re—you know how to be.”
“What does that mean?” His brow wrinkled. One chestnut curl spiraled onto his forehead.
“I feel safe with you.” Attracted. She cleared her throat. “I don’t feel like I even have to—” Flirt. Think. Worry. “Our kisses were so easy.”
“Not many guys like me in the cities.” He looked down at her, his gaze intent. Walt the llama rancher dipped his head down toward her and stopped. “What are you looking for between us?”
She wanted to make love to him. With a fierce, melting demand that poured through her body like the waterfall, drowning her common sense. “I have condoms in my cabin.”
“I’ve got condoms in my saddlebags.” He didn’t even blink, his gaze holding hers.
“Thank the Lord.”
“That’s what you want?” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear it over the water.
A drop landed on her cheek from his messed-up short hair. She nodded. Aside from tipsy make-out sessions, this was the fastest she’d ever gotten close to a guy. For a moment, she hesitated. Walt had told her right from the first that he didn’t want a quickie. But she trusted him, she liked him, and oh hell, how she wanted him. He had seemingly changed his mind during the ride, and she was totally going for it. “If you want me . . .”
His mouth tightened. “I like direct, remember?”
She nodded. Swallowed. “I want to touch you.”
“Do you want to play or to fuck?”
“W-w-wow.” She revised her assessment that Walt was simple. He was solidly sexy. “Ummm.” The waterfall’s roar filled her head. She’d thought before that she wanted to make love with him, but that wasn’t one of his options.
Play seemed light for the pulse of attraction she felt, but it was safe since she surely didn’t know this guy.
The coarse word he’d also offered had shocked her a little bit. It gave this little glen an edgier feeling.
Did she want to play or to fuck?
“You should put it on, I guess.”
Her breath shuddered, spurred by the attraction and need that ached inside her. But she was being rash. The past couldn’t be returned. To ease the tension, she joked, “I did come here for the view, so it’s a shame to draw the curtains.”
His shoulders eased down, his smile a bit sad. He slid the shirt back on and stood looking at her.
She fidgeted with the belt on her robe. “Maybe I should go get dressed. Would you brew some coffee?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
She went back to her cabin and changed into jeans and a sleeveless eyelet blouse in salmon-pink. She’d thought it innocent when she’d bought it, but now she saw it as hopeful. Wiping her feet, she put on her flats, then combed her hair, which was nearly dry already. Hesitating, she settled for some quick moisturizer and a bit of gloss, but felt strange adding makeup. Bundling into her thin, oatmeal cashmere sweater, she hurried back to Tom’s cabin with her cell phone.
Lights blazed from the windows and the door was open in welcome. She wiped her palms on her thighs and stepped inside. When their eyes met, he grinned a huge smile, and shook his head. She knew just his feeling of disbelief. They sat at the table.
“So—” They said the word at the same time.
“You go first,” she said. Her throat was so full she had to clear it. “Tell me who Tom is now.”
He didn’t hesitate, laying out the pattern of jobs, catching her up on his family and friends she’d known in college. They sat drinking coffee, sharing what had come since. They stayed away from what had gone wrong, but she knew they’d get to it. And maybe even get over it.
Near dawn, they turned off the lights and moved out onto his porch. Wrapped up in his bed’s comforter, they cuddled together on a bench. Betsy was right. The morning mist on the meadow was amazing. Spruce scented the freezing air. They’d run out of words, had shared pictures on their cells, had laughed over their best memories. Now was the time for quiet.
Then the sky warmed and colored and he finally touched the scar o
n her heart. “I’m so sorry, Lauren. More sorry than I can ever say. I’ll regret that moment till the day I die.”
She bit her lip. They were the words her soul had needed to hear, but she’d denied herself the chance to ever hear them in her hurt. “I’m sorry, too.” The words were so powerful her ribs creaked as her world settled.
Tom tipped up her chin and kissed her. It was light, easy, soft. A hit of sadness washed through her. His mouth moved harder, surer, and his tongue called to hers, swaying with a burst of taste. He’d put hazelnut in his coffee. She kissed him back harder, and warmth cascaded through her chest.
The sound of clopping horse hooves silenced them for a moment. Breathing in the steam from her fresh cup, Lauren cuddled into the curve of Tom’s arm and watched Walt ride past on his horse. He didn’t notice them, glancing once at her cabin as he went past. Smiling up at Tom, she looked back at the mountains as they shaded with peach light in the rising sun. It was going to be a great day.
Congratulations. You have found the ending called She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. Click this link to return to the Choice Index. Dare to decide again!
She looked down at herself. Dirt was smeared across her arms and chest, coated her shins and feet, and even smudged her crotch. A mosquito landed on her knee and she slapped at it.
“I’m a mess,” she said.
“I’ll clean you up.”
Hearing his quiet drawl made her shy. He took the condom off, stood, and pulled up his pants. Just like that, he was presentable, while she was a disaster.
He held out his hand and helped her stand. They faced each other. His thumbs brushed over her knuckles, then he raised both hands up and kissed the backs of them. “Thank you.”
She blushed and ducked her head. They walked down to the water. After a few minutes, she learned the bandana really wasn’t going to cut it. “I’m going to have to go in and wash.”
He chuckled. “I’m going to have to stay here and watch.”
His hat was once more settled on his head, and he looked—perfect. Leaning against Wheezy, one boot crossed over the other, he folded his arms and tossed his chin. “Go on. Did I mention they’re called Sleet Falls?”
Picking her way over to the blacker water, she shivered in the spray. “It’s safe, right?”
“I’m right here. Ain’t nothing in there a’tall.”
Easing her butt down onto a slimy rock, she slid her feet into the deeper water. It felt glorious. Picking her way lower, she squeaked when it rose nearer her hips. “Oh, boy! This is cold!”
“Yup. Look at your pretty tits.”
She choked a laugh at his language but looked. They’d never been so hard. “They’re telling me I’m crazy.”
“Naw. If a woman can’t skinny-dip in a waterfall after cowboy sex on vacation, what’s the world coming to?”
His western drawl thick on the words made her laugh, and she slid in up to her waist with a pained gasp. The water was like ice on her sex-heated body. It hurt. Frantically, she scrubbed herself with the bandana, rinsing a clump of moss off the back of one shoulder, getting the dirt off her.
“Okay!” Her voice came high and tight. “I’m going under!”
She dunked her hair back from her face. With one last swipe at her face and neck, she squeezed the bandana into a ball. “Catch.”
He caught it.
She scrambled out, cursing, her feet clumsy from cold as they sought balance. His offer of a steady hand was grabbed up. He was solid and warm.
Then she was in his arms and he carried her over to a dry, stable rock. He had on a fresh shirt and gave her a small cloth to dry off with—sort of. She dressed, and once again, found herself mounted in front of an unknown cowboy.
He took them back a different way, avoiding the jump. It was longer but she didn’t mind. Their bodies rocked loosely together on the horse. Her thoughts were full of what to do after having amazing sex with a stranger. Finally they descended into the canyon flatlands again. The outbuildings of the ranch came into view.
Before long, music came to them over the twilight fields. The temperature was now perfect, but with her wet hair she was glad she had Walt’s heat at her back. “Walt?”
“Yup?”
“I’m only here for a week. But I’d like to see you again.”
“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
She frowned. “Yes, really. It was great meeting you. And being with you. I want to get to know you better.”
His arm came around her waist and he hugged her. “Hey, I’d like that, too.” Still, his voice had a cautious, surprised tone.
”Why do you sound like that?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”
“Why not?” She felt vaguely insulted.
He shrugged. “I figured you’d want to meet other guys now.”
She was baffled about what he was saying. They were down along the stables now, closing in on her cabin. She shook her head. “We just shared really hot sex. Why do you think I’d want to meet other guys?”
He shrugged again. “Lauren . . .” his voice was low, a bit sad. “This isn’t my first hoedown. I’ve had fun with other city women, and they’re generally satisfied after one taste.”
What? Like he was some sort of ranch activity to be tried for an afternoon? She felt a sizzle of anger at how his big body had shared a play or a fuck with selfish women.
They were both silent until they came up to her cabin. He angled Wheezy up so that she could hop down onto her porch before dismounting himself.
Holding the reins to the saddle horn, he studied her face. “I’m just surprised you’d want me again.”
She blinked. A chill swept over her as the sky deepened into lavender. Her arms were firmly crossed now. “Walt, you’re an incredible guy and a great lover. I’m really interested in seeing you again, and I’m surprised you’re surprised.” This was starting to sound like a farce.
He tipped his hat back on his head, and regarded her with confused silence. “So you want to . . . what? Date me?”
She nodded and shrugged. “I know you’re probably busy, but yes. I don’t walk away after sharing something like we did.”
Wheezy stamped one hoof. Walt turned and opened his saddlebag. She’d been wondering how to ask him to spend the night on the way back down. Now she was trying to understand his hesitation. “I don’t have sex unless I like a guy.”
She sounded defensive and absurd. But she wanted to make him understand. “We had a connection,” she went on. “You were . . . amazing to me. I haven’t had a boyfriend in over a year.”
His eyebrows disappeared up under his hat brim. “You think I’m your boyfriend?”
“Of course not. I mean, I was hoping. I thought it was possible.”
He tilted his head. “Where do you live?”
“Chelsea.” She clarified, “Manhattan. New York.”
He worked his lips. “And how exactly do you think we’re going to be able to have a relationship?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about the details. I was going with the moment.”
This was beginning to sound like a rejection. Whirling, she escaped to her room, slamming the door. She stood with her hands on her burning cheeks.
A moment later came three firm knocks that made her jump.
She turned back to the door and opened it.
He stood there holding his hat in both hands. He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
When she stood there, choked with hurt, silent, he let out a sigh.
Then he added, “Miss Lauren of Chelsea, it would be my pleasure to invite you over to my ranch for dinner tomorrow.”
She shrugged, folded her arms defensively. The damage was done. He wasn’t as into her as she was into him. This wasn’t likely to go anywhere, but at least now he was offer
ing them a chance.
“In the meantime . . .” He looked up at the lit barn pounding with loud rockabilly. “Would you like to go to the dance with me?”
Biting her lip, she nodded. Her throat was swollen but she cleared it. “I would enjoy that very much.” She gestured into the room. “I need to change. Do you want to come in?”
He tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll stay outside with Wheezy.”
Lauren took a fast shower and changed. Throwing open her luggage, she stared at her options. Purple skirt, not cute enough. Silver dress, too daring after their recent conversation. The image of her wearing a calico prairie poke bonnet popped into her mind. Would that make him see her as a possibility?
With a growl, she grabbed up a pair of Daisy Duke short shorts with cute lace trim. She paired those with black lace-up sandals, crisscrossing the strands up to her knee. For the top half, she wore a red tank with a skin-tight sheer over-shirt in black. A thick, multi-strand chain necklace finished the look. If he pissed her off again, she’d just chain him up.
When she opened the door, she gasped at the slap of frigid air against her.
“Nights get cold. You’ll want to hurry to the barn, but you’ll be fine once you’re there.”
She nodded.
“I have to go set Wheezy up in the corral.”
“Okay.”
They walked Wheezy like a giant dog to the corral near the stables. He pulled the horse’s bridle from over his head, then set the saddle on the corral fence. Loosing Wheezy in the corral, Walt checked the water and tossed him a flake of hay. “Lauren? What made you choose Cloud Canyon Ranch for a vacation?”
She chuckled, remembering Sorrel and all her drama. She hadn’t thought about her once since she walked down to the river hours ago.
“I used to know this”—horrible bitch—“girl in college, Sorrel, whose family used to own the place. The way she talked about this ranch made it seem lovely, so when I found myself out west for a conference, I decided to build in some time off.”
He gave Wheezy a firm pat and the horse ambled off. “I know Sorrel.”