by Zoe Chant
He gave her a questioning look.
"Tell her everything. Tell her about being a shifter, if she doesn't already know. Tell her about the mate bond."
"I don't want to scare her away."
"You won't. Oh, it might take her a little while to get used to having her world turned around—trust me—but she's going to be feeling it and not knowing what she's feeling. Let her know what she's found in you. If the two of you really are meant to be, I think she'll have a change of heart about staying."
"I'm afraid I'll mess it up," Cody admitted. "Say the wrong thing."
"You won't. Or, I guess I should say ..." Her smile turned impish. "Sometimes you will. Lord knows Axl has an amazing case of foot-in-mouth disease. But even when things don't go well, you learn to see past it. That's what having a mate means." Her smile faded to something a little sadder. "And I can see you don't believe me. Well, some things you just have to find out for yourself."
She walked him to the door, one arm wrapped around his waist in a sisterly kind of way. As Cody reached for the doorknob, he remembered something he'd almost forgotten. "Do you and Axl have a bird book?"
"Bird book?"
"Yeah, you know, a field guide for birds? I think I remember seeing one up at the big house. Alec is into that kind of thing. I could go ask him."
"No, we might have one here." She stretched on tiptoe, running her finger along the spines of the books on the shelves lining the living room. Books were a necessity up here, especially in the winter, with patchy TV reception and the only internet available through the unreliable satellite uplink Tara had insisted on when she'd moved here.
In the main ranch house, where Alec and Charmian now lived, the books were neatly arranged according to Alec's preference for order over chaos. Here, however, spy thrillers and mystery novels were freely mixed with books on livestock diseases and well pump repair. After some searching, Tara gave a little "Aha!" and pulled down a slightly dog-eared book with a cardinal on the cover. "Here you go," she said, passing it to Cody. "Why, did you see a new kind of bird in the pasture?"
"No." He felt his face go slightly pink. "Crystal mentioned she wanted to learn some of the birds around here. I told her I'd bring her a book on birds if I could. I don't know much of what she likes yet, so this seemed like the least I could do."
Tara's expression softened. "Cody, I think you and Crystal are going to be just fine."
7. Crystal
Normally Crystal hated getting up early, but the next morning she was up with the dawn. The diner was already open, catering to the early-morning farmer crowd. Marge—or, no, Sammie Jo, Crystal reminded herself—happily brought her two plastic bags containing several takeout containers of food. Puzzled, she accepted them.
"Are you sure this is the right order? I only wanted two breakfasts."
"No, you wanted one regular breakfast and one Circle B Special," Sammie Jo said cheerfully. "Those boys can eat."
"Apparently so," Crystal murmured. It looked like she had enough food here to feed an entire Boy Scout troop. Or at least half of one.
By now she was getting used to the drive out to the farm from Wildcat Forks. The road no longer seemed quite so rough (she knew exactly where to detour around the worst potholes) and this time, thanks to Cody and his chainsaw, she was able to drive right up to the farmhouse.
Although she'd forgotten about the creek. She stopped the little car on the far side of it, thought about just parking there and walking the rest of the way—but, no, if she did get stuck, Cody would be along soon and could help her out. And giving up on driving to her own house, without even giving it a try, was just too embarrassing.
... My house? When did I start thinking of it as my house? I mean my grandfather's old house, on the farm I'm going to sell.
She clenched her teeth, put the car in gear, and crept across the creek, rocking and jolting over the logs. That part was all right. The short but steep hill on the other side was where she almost lost it; her tires started to spin out, and there was one terrifying instant when she thought the car might be about to roll over backward and realized there were worse things that could happen to her than getting stuck, but in a fit of panic she stamped on the accelerator and the car lurched forward and skidded into the farmhouse yard.
Crystal blew out her breath, carefully peeled her fingers off the steering wheel, and checked to make sure that breakfast hadn't been upended in a big pile in the rear seat. Luckily Sammie Jo had tied the tops of the bags, and everything was still where it should be.
She followed the trail of crushed-down weeds where Cody had driven his truck yesterday, and parked behind the house. As she got out, she looked back at the overgrown disaster of the front yard. People who lived in rural places like this all seemed to have trucks or Jeeps or other four-wheel-drive vehicles. She was starting to see why. If she lived out here, she'd need—
But I don't live here. I live in St. Louis. I don't need a truck.
The growl of a big engine distracted her from her thoughts. A moment later, Cody drove into the yard, waving at her from the open window of his truck.
"Nice timing!" she called. "I just got here."
Cody stepped down, hesitated only briefly, then closed the distance between them with his long strides and swept her into a kiss that left her weak-kneed and breathless.
"Okay," she gasped. "Wow. Uh, hello to you too. I brought breakfast."
"I brought you something too." He handed her a book. "This way you can learn all about the birds here."
"You remembered!" she exclaimed, flattered.
They sat on the back porch steps and ate in the morning sun. Cody was wearing a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons unbuttoned. It looked almost new, with crisp creases on the sleeves, not like the well-worn plaid shirt he'd been wearing yesterday. It also looked like he'd taken the time to scrape the mud off his boots.
Crystal was flattered—he'd dressed up for her!—and, at the same time, not quite sure how to tell him that she didn't mind a man with some stains on his shirt from hard work. What was important was what was under the shirt, and as she'd seen yesterday, what was under the shirt was very nice indeed.
And she was leaving in less than two weeks. She needed to stop doing this to herself ... to both of them.
But just being close to him filled her with a deep, aching heat. Good thing the bedding was still airing out, or she'd be tempted to drag him off to the bedroom right this minute.
Come to think of it, she'd never made love in a meadow, and there was a perfectly lovely meadow right in front of them ...
Crystal cleared her throat and tried to wrench her mind to more practical things than Cody bearing her down in the grass, Cody's rippling muscles in the morning sun, Cody biting at her neck as he pressed into her willing heat—aargh.
"So," she said brightly, clamping her thighs together. "What do you want to do first?" Me, for example. No! Stop! "I was thinking I'd like to get some of this long grass and brush cut back, so it's easier to get around. Especially in front of the house."
"Sounds good," Cody said with his usual easy cheer. "I brought some tools for working on the equipment in the barn, and a can of gas from home. Gasoline that's been sitting around for this many years isn't good for their engines. I can go see about getting the brush cutter running, and then start clearing around the house and barn."
Crystal's imagination served up a vivid image of Cody with his shirt off, wrestling the big brush cutter with the long handles that she'd seen in the barn, sweat running down between his shoulder blades—"Yes," she said, a touch breathless. "Yes, that sounds like a good plan. I'll ... uh ... I'll work on cleaning up the house while you do that."
Cody gave her another kiss and helped her gather up the trash from breakfast. He really had eaten all of that food; she was impressed. He hesitated, like there was something else he was thinking about saying, but then he turned away, and got a gas can and toolbox from the back of the truc
k. After clapping an honest-to-God cowboy hat onto his head, he headed off to the barn, whistling.
As soon as he vanished into the barn, Crystal opened her car door and got the metal detector out of the backseat.
She hadn't expected to feel so guilty about hiding this from Cody. Maybe if she told him about her treasure hunt, he could help her. Two people could search the farm more efficiently than one ...
No. It's my family's secret, not mine to share.
Cody was hot, and funny, and amazing, and great in bed. But she'd only just met him. She hardly knew him yet.
Instead she took the metal detector into the house. Under the pretext of cleaning, she moved the furniture and scanned the floor and walls in each room. The metal detector kept getting a lot of false positives off nails and other metal items around the house, raising her hope each time and then leaving her disappointed when she tapped at the floor and found it just as solid in that location as everywhere else.
I don't want to tear the house apart!
Grandpa, if you did leave us something, why couldn't you have just told somebody instead of dropping vague hints?
As she started on the bedrooms, the drone of an engine started up, coming in through the open windows. Crystal put down the metal detector and went to look out. Cody was working with the brush cutter along the fence just outside the barn. It was built something like a rototiller, with long handles that he was gripping, and cutting blades at the other end. A spray of leaves and sawdust showered around him.
He hadn't taken his shirt off, but she was still captivated, watching him work. He used the brush cutter with seeming effortlessness, as if it hardly weighed anything. Despite his generally lean build, she'd already realized that he was incredibly strong.
From the upstairs window, she wasn't quite close enough to really enjoy the play of muscles under his shirt. Instead she found herself captivated by the easy grace in his movements. It was a kind of grace that she associated with big cats, with wild predators—but there was nothing inhuman about him. He was simply gorgeous. More gorgeous than she had known a human being could be.
Cody paused, as if he'd sensed her watching him. He tipped his hat back and looked up at the window. Under the hat's shadow, his smile flashed briefly.
Crystal waved.
Cody touched his hat brim and got back to work.
***
In late morning, dusty and cobwebby and no closer to figuring out whether her grandfather had hidden a treasure somewhere in the house or property, Crystal tucked the metal detector away in a closet and got a bottle of water and Thermos of cold lemonade she'd stashed in the kitchen. Then she went to find Cody. It wasn't hard; all she had to do was follow the on-again, off-again sound of the brush cutter.
She was amazed at what he'd already accomplished. He'd trimmed back the brush and small trees that had grown up between the barn and the house, and he'd mowed the grass and wildflowers, so the yard actually looked like a yard again, instead of a small piece of forest that just didn't happen to be as tall as the rest of it. He'd also cut the brush around the barn. The garden had been left to its wild tangle of weeds and perennials, but he had mowed carefully around it, so now she could see that there was, indeed, a wooden fence around it, partly fallen down, and some old trellises that might have supported flowering vines or maybe even grapes.
The sound of the brush cutter was now coming from behind the barn. Crystal went around the corner, stepping carefully through fragrant, fresh-cut grass.
She found Cody on his knees, tinkering with the engine as it idled. He glanced up before she announced herself, and she got the feeling again that there was some kind of preternatural connection between them, as if he could sense her.
"Hi, beautiful." He flipped a switch and the engine died. The sudden silence rang in her ears. The only sounds were the whisper of the wind and birdsongs in the woods. She still couldn't get used to how quiet it was here.
Straightening up, Cody brushed off his hands and gave her a crooked smile. That was all it took; she rushed into his arms and stretched on tiptoe to meet his lips with hers. Cody's hands settled on her waist. He was hot, his shirt sticking to his back, and smelled like grass clippings and engine exhaust and the faint, spicy fragrance of clean male sweat.
When she had her mouth available for talking again, Crystal said, "I thought you might be thirsty, so I brought you something to drink. There's still no electricity at the house, which means no refrigeration, but it should be cool."
"Sounds amazing." He unscrewed the lid on the Thermos and tipped back his head to drink deeply. Crystal's gaze was drawn to his throat, glistening with sweat. She couldn't stop staring at the way it flexed as he swallowed, at the sun-bleached curls of hair where his collarbones met the top of his pecs before it vanished under his sweat-damp shirt—
"Ah, that's good." He lowered the Thermos with a sigh, and she wrenched her gaze back up to his face. "Want some?"
"Sure." She took the Thermos from his hand and raised it to her mouth, where his lips had been a moment before. He was right, it was good, cold and sweet.
"I have something that's not better, exactly, but might be just as good," Cody said. "There's a cooler in the truck with lunch. My sister-in-law packed it for us."
Crystal's stomach growled, making her laugh. "That sounds great. I thought a big farmer breakfast would do it for me all day, but I'm starving."
"Country air and exercise. You'll never work up an appetite like the one you get on a farm." He grinned at her. "Before we do that, though, I wanted to look at something. I notice you've got the car in the yard today. Did you have any trouble driving it up?"
"A little," she admitted. So much for wanting to sound like an experienced rural driver; she realized it would be foolish to lie about it. "I got across the creek okay, but I almost couldn't get up that last little hill right on this side of it."
"Yeah, I was a little worried you might have problems in such a small car. You mind if we walk over and take a look? I was thinking I might be able to do something about it."
They walked across the fresh-cut grass, passing back and forth the bottle of water and the Thermos. Her shoes crunched on woody fragments from where he'd whacked back the brush along the fence.
"You know, you're lucky to have a creek on the property," Cody said.
"It didn't feel lucky when I was trying to drive through it yesterday."
"Ha, yeah, that part's not so great. But that creek is probably how your grandpa was able to keep this place operating after the other ranches on this side of the mountain shut down."
"What happened to the other ones?" she asked before taking another deep drink from the water bottle. The day was getting hot, and she'd worked up a sweat in the house.
"Not enough water. Used to be springs and streams all over these mountains, but as the weather's gotten drier, and dams have diverted some of the rivers, it's gotten harder to make a living out here. Can't run stock without water. That's why a lot of the old ranches in these mountains are selling their land off for logging now."
"Does your ranch have that problem?" She was very aware of his presence, the warmth of his fingers as he took the water bottle back.
"No, we've got a river that goes right through the edge of our land, and plenty of little springs. We're lucky. Your grandpa was lucky too. This is a good piece of land here."
They stopped at the top of the little hill, looking down at the creek purling along between its banks. From up here Crystal could see how shallow it was, no more than six inches deep in most places. The logs that made up the "bridge" were half buried in sand, deposited between and around them by past seasons' floods.
"Gotta say, I'm impressed you drove up here in that little car," Cody said.
"I was afraid you'd laugh at me if I said I had trouble," she admitted. "I thought you'd just tell me to get a big truck instead."
"Sure, most people out here have trucks, and I guess you're figuring out why. But there's no rea
son why I can't make the road easier for the car you've got."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I mean there's no reason not to smooth down the grade a little so it's shallower and easier to drive."
Crystal scuffed her toe in the dirt of the old driveway. Under the overgrown grass, mashed down by her car's tires, it was hard-packed.
"That sounds like an awful lot of work," she said. "How would you do it? Like ... dig up some of the dirt, or something?"
"What, by hand?" Cody laughed. "No, ma'am. We don't have a bulldozer on the ranch, but the Spilworths up the road a ways have one, and it wouldn't be too much trouble to get the use of it for a day. While I'm at it, I could widen out that driveway for you, just take the 'dozer out to the road with the blade down and scrape back all those little trees."
"But ..." She looked at him, wide-eyed, and then at the trees in front of them. "Don't you need a permit for that?"
"How far out to the road is your land?"
"All the way, I think."
"Then nope. All I need is for you to tell me it's okay."
"Wow," she murmured. In the city, she could only imagine how many building codes and permit applications would be involved in something as simple as putting up a garden shed, let alone taking a bulldozer and just moving an inconvenient hill out of the way. "I ... uh ... isn't that a lot of trouble for you? All I wanted you to do was cut some brush. I don't mean for you to have to spend the entire week doing major infrastructure work on my family's farm."
"If you don't want me to—"
"No, it's not that," she protested, turning to him. "I just don't want to cause a huge hassle for you."