by Kim Redford
“Texas Timber?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to get into a deep discussion about her job or how it affected them right now. She just wanted a little time between worlds to catch her breath.
“Go ahead. There’s time to talk later.”
She felt as if he’d read her mind, but maybe he wasn’t any more anxious than she was to get immediately back into their major problem. They’d won against fire again. Now was the time to take a few moments to enjoy their win.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. She didn’t need to say much. She just needed to reassure Audrey and Cindi Lou until she had time for a conversation. She sent both of them the same text, short and sweet. “Fire out. All well. Talk later.”
Now she could really relax. She put her cell back in her pocket and looked out the window.
“Wildcat Ranch.” She read aloud from a black wrought-iron sign that arched high over a cattle-guard in a stretch of barbwire fence.
“Home sweet home.” Trey turned off Wildcat Road, drove under the sign, and headed up the gravel road.
“Beautiful.” Now that she was on Trey’s home turf, she wanted more than ever to learn about him. At first, she’d wanted to know for professional reasons, but that desire was now personal. After all they’d been through together, she felt she could ask and her questions wouldn’t be rejected outright as coming from a Nosy Nellie.
“We like it here.”
“We?”
“My family.”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” He’d never mentioned them, but maybe they lived in Dallas or somewhere else.
“I’m the only chick.”
“Me too.” She liked the fact they had that in common.
“If you’re wondering, my parents aren’t here.” He glanced at her. “I think I mentioned I live in their guesthouse.”
She nodded, feeling pleased that he was opening up to her. “Do y’all run the ranch together?”
“Yep.” He hesitated, as if contemplating, before he continued. “I think that’s part of why they’re on a cruise right now.”
“Isn’t Christmas really important to everyone around here?”
“It is.” He ran a hand through his thick hair. “They’re making a point. They’ve always wanted to travel more and they deserve this vacation, but it’s the timing.”
“I’m lost.” She turned from looking at the ranch to looking at him.
“It’s kinda embarrassing.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to.”
He slowed the pickup to a crawl. “Mom and Dad picked out a hill with a view of the Red River. I’m supposed to build my house there.”
“You don’t like the location?”
“I like it fine. But what would I do knocking around in a big, empty home?” He stopped and motioned at the land around him. “I’m taking on more of the job all the time. Soon it’ll be mine.”
“And that’s bad?”
“No, that’s good, too.”
“I don’t understand the problem.”
“There’s no way around it. They want me to see how it feels to be alone on the ranch at Christmas.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “That’s the only reason it makes sense for them to take off during the holidays.”
“They want you to be lonely?”
“That’s just it. They ought to know better. I’ve got all kinds of kin and friends around here.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“Can you imagine being treated like a kid by your parents when you’re a grown man?”
“I don’t know.” She just couldn’t agree with him on this point. “I think it’s kind of sweet. They’re thinking about you being alone when they’re gone.”
“They’ve been saying things like that.” He looked into the distance as if seeing something that wasn’t there. “But they’re a matched pair. You know, that’s not so easy to find.”
“They could be gone in the blink of an eye.” She interrupted him, needing to get her point across quickly while she could still speak as her chest tightened and tears stung her eyes.
“Doubt it. We’re a long-lived family.”
“Sometimes accidents happen.”
“What I’m trying to say is—”
“Oh, Trey, look. Buffalo!” She pointed at an area not too far away. She didn’t want to think a moment more about losing parents before their time. She could smell the acrid scent of smoke in the truck and on him. She flashed back to the red-orange flames of the tree fire and the dense smoke spiraling up into the sky. And that started to take her where she didn’t want to go—not now, not ever. She gripped the seat with both hands and stared hard at the buffalo.
“They’re descended from a small bison herd saved by the Comanche. Mary Ann and Charles Goodnight—they were ranchers—saved a remnant of the southern herd, too. They were friends with Quanah Parker.”
“Quanah Parker was famous, wasn’t he?” Misty turned her thoughts to Aunt Camilla. She’d been a historian through and through, so she’d have loved seeing the buffalo and hearing Trey talk about the past.
“He was a Comanche chief. He was friends with Teddy Roosevelt and took him hunting on the plains.” Trey cleared his throat and clenched the steering wheel. “Sad time. Quanah was a war chief. He lost no battles. In the end, he was given a choice between life and death for the people he’d sworn to protect. He led them out of Texas onto a reservation in Oklahoma to keep them as safe as possible.”
Misty felt Trey’s deep sadness as if it were her own. “I’m sorry. But at least some of the buffalo are still here.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at her, smiling with an ironic twist of his lips. “And Quanah left plenty of descendants. The Comanche still ride the plains.”
“I’m glad.” She considered Trey’s dark hair and bronze skin. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you—”
“Yes. I’m not full-blood, but I’m proud of my Comanche heritage.”
“I would be, too.”
He pointed at the buffalo. “Bison were the lifeblood of the Comanche and other nations. Millions once roamed the plains. Now bison are being turned to as a good alternative to beef. Leaner meat. And tasty.”
“I’ve never eaten it.”
“You’re in for a treat.” He pointed northwest. “You can see descendants of the Goodnight herd on seven hundred acres at Caprock Canyon State Park in the Panhandle.”
“I’d like to see that sometime.”
He reached over and clasped her hand. “Let me know when.”
She chuckled. “First things first. You promised food.”
“You’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.” He gave her hand a squeeze before he took hold of the steering wheel again.
As Trey drove up a rise in the land, Misty saw a large gray brick and pale stone contemporary house with large windows and multiple rooflines covered by a shiny silver metal roof that overhung balconies and patios. Three dramatic square columns reached to the second-story peak. She could also see many outbuildings, including a big red barn, horse stables, corrals, and other structures that left her clueless.
Trey followed a circle drive around a dry stone fountain with a bronze statue of a buffalo with a wildcat on its back. He stopped in front of a four-car garage at the side of the house and turned off the engine.
“Sorry you won’t get to see the original 1880s farmhouse. Mom spent a lot of time updating the place.”
“What happened to it?”
“Fire.”
“Oh no!”
“That’s what got all of us so determined to make sure nobody else lost so much of their heritage.”
“I understand. I really do. You have my complete sympathy.”
“Thanks.” He pointed at the house. “Anyway
, they rebuilt for comfort and convenience.”
“Beauty, too.”
“Mom’s doing.” He opened his door. “Come on. If you want, I’ll show you the house later. Right now, I want to get my firefighter gear out of the truck and get cleaned up.”
She nodded, but she hardly heard him. She felt as if she was reeling back in time. Trey had lost his family heritage in a house fire. Yet he was so very lucky that was all he’d lost.
He opened her door and looked at her, concern in his hazel eyes. “You okay?”
“Yes, of course.” She snapped out of her reverie and stepped down to the cement drive.
“Hang on a sec.” He opened the back door on the driver’s side of the pickup, hauled out his firefighter gear and the empty fire extinguishers, and shut the door. “I’ll set this stuff in the garage till I get it cleaned up.”
She watched as he unlocked the garage door, set everything inside, and relocked the garage. All his movements were mundane, and yet she never tired of watching him do anything.
“I’m glad you’re here.” He reached into the truck, pulled his bluebird out of the console, and shut the door. “Don’t want to forget my gift.” He put an arm around Misty’s shoulders and tugged her close as he led her around the side of the garage.
“I doubt your parents would approve of me being here.”
“Why would you say that?” He stopped and looked at her.
“Don’t they want you to be alone?”
He chuckled as he clasped her hand and led her forward again. “You’re exactly what they’d like to see here.”
“But why?”
He grinned, laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes as he teased her. “You’ll figure it out.”
She just shrugged as she glanced around the back of the house. “This is gorgeous.”
“Thanks. You won’t see the cats here right now. They hightailed it to the barn in protest at parental desertion.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” She chuckled at the image as she looked at the property.
“If the weather changes from hot to cold, they’ll be back so quick your head will spin.”
“I take it they’re warm-weather felines.”
“Pampered is more like it.”
She laughed with him as they walked together as if they’d done it a million times before that moment.
Right in the center of wide open spaces that allowed someone to take deep breaths and feel free was a large modified courtyard. A swimming pool made of pale stone with deep blue water nestled between the patio at the back of the house and a small octagon house with a wraparound covered balcony on the second floor. A stone walkway connected a pool house on one side and an outdoor kitchen in a gazebo on the other side of the swimming pool. All the roofs were made of shiny silver metal. Wooden patio furniture with white, green, and blue cushions made the area a perfect destination point.
“You like?” Trey asked.
“I think I could live out here.”
He chuckled. “It might get a bit chilly when real winter gets here.”
“But it’s perfect right now.”
He put an arm around her waist. “Even if it gets cold, I know how to keep us warm.”
She laughed as she leaned against him, already feeling hotter just because of his presence. But she wouldn’t admit it, not when she could tease him. “I see a fire pit over there. Is that what you mean?”
“Not even close.” He rubbed circles on her back with one hand. “I’d kiss you if I wasn’t so dirty.”
“What’s a little dirt between friends?” She pushed her fingers into his thick hair and pulled his head down toward her.
“Misty, you’re playing with fire.”
“I hope so.” She pressed her lips to his mouth, toyed with the tip of her tongue, but lost control when he jerked her against his warm, damp chest.
“You’re driving me crazy.” He deepened the kiss as he thrust into her mouth to tease and torment at his leisure.
Heat spiraled outward from her center, setting her ablaze. She felt languid, as if his body heat, his intense desire, the touch of his hands were turning her into a molten pool of desire—a wantonness that began and ended with him. How had she ever lived without him?
Abruptly, he stopped the kiss, put his hands on her shoulders, and stepped back. “You’re making me forget my good intentions.”
“And they are?” She felt bruised, as if she were so sensitive in every part of her body that the slightest touch, even a gentle breeze, would be too much to bear. She put a fingertip to her lips and felt the swelling that he’d caused with his tantalizing kiss. He’d marked her. That thought caused her to shiver with anticipation of what else he might do with her.
“I’m not even gonna talk about good or bad intentions. That could get us both into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Not another word.” He grabbed her hand and started walking alongside the swimming pool.
He skirted a long planter with a row of evergreen shrubs that provided privacy for the guest residence made of brick and stone that matched the main house. He stopped in front of double pale oak doors with square, steel contemporary hinges and door handles set in the center of a wide swath of floor-to-ceiling windows. He threw open the doors.
“Welcome to my home.” He gave her a mischievous look, tugged her inside, and planted a hot kiss on her lips.
“It’s lovely here.” She glanced around, then back at him. He’d become north on her personal compass, for her attention always strayed back to him.
“Make yourself at home. If you want to freshen up, there’s a half bath over there.” He gestured at a closed door. “I’ll run upstairs, grab a shower, and be back real quick.”
“Don’t hurry on my account.”
“That’s exactly why I’ll hurry.” He headed for the oak staircase set against a wall of stone near the entrance, then turned back. “Almost forgot.” He took long strides over to the bar in the kitchen, tugged the bluebird out of its sack, and proudly set it on the bar. He crushed the sack and tossed it in the trash.
She watched as he took the stairs two at a time with his long, strong legs. When he disappeared from sight, she turned to focus on the open floor plan of his beautiful home. She looked up at the high ceiling in the octagon shape of the outside. Wood slats filled the ceiling between exposed beams, and a contemporary steel ceiling fan hung from the center. The walls were gray brick with floor-to-ceiling windows framed with pale oak. A cordovan leather sectional couch sat on a colorful geometric pattern area rug that covered a wood floor in the center of the room.
Everything in the house looked so lovely that she decided to take off her dusty red boots and leave them by the front door so as not to track dirt into his home. She leaned against a wall, tugged off her boots and socks, and set them in a corner. Then she ventured deeper onto the house.
On one side was a kitchen fronted by a long wooden bar with a black-and-gray granite countertop and stainless bar stools covered with black-and-white cowhide. Oak cabinets and stainless steel appliances finished off the area. Across from the kitchen rose a large natural rock fireplace with a simple oak mantel. A single Christmas stocking that appeared to have been knitted by hand of red and green yarn hung by its lonesome in the center of the mantel. In one corner of the expanse of windows across the back wall rose a cedar tree trimmed with vintage glass ornaments and a blond angel on top.
Misty adored his home—classy and warm and inviting all at the same time. She decided to clean up a bit in the powder room. As she walked over to the door under the staircase, she decided she’d never again leave home without her handbag. Of all the times when she could have used so much that she normally carried, she had nothing except her lip gloss. It’d just have to do.
She opened the door and c
losed it behind her. Another beautiful room with oak cabinets and a black-and-gray granite countertop accented with a stainless steel sink, large mirror framed in oak, and a crystal and steel vanity light above the mirror. Red-and-green fingertip towels with Frosty the Snowman were laid out for seasonal fun.
She selected a cabinet and found an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a small comb and brush. Thank goodness for planning ahead for guests. She quickly took advantage of all the amenities, washing and brushing till she felt more her usual self. She glanced in the mirror and added a little lip gloss. She didn’t need any color in her cheeks because they were pink from the exertions of the day or simply the nearness of Trey.
She walked out, feeling much more refreshed after everything. She could hear the shower running upstairs and knew Trey would soon be down to join her. She stopped in front of the wall of windows and looked out over the ranch. She could see a red ribbon in the distance that must surely be the Red River. It was a beautiful, peaceful sight.
She stepped from there to the Christmas tree. She reached out and touched one of the ornaments. The red-and-green swirls looked familiar. She looked closer and felt her breath catch in her throat as emotions started to rise. She’d had a Christmas ornament just like this one so very long ago. Tears stung her eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She smelled smoke.
Misty whirled around and put her back to the tree. But it was too late. Everything had been too much for too long. And it’d finally caught up with her. She didn’t want to be here, not now, not when she suddenly felt so fragile. She needed to be alone so she could recover in privacy. But it was too late.
She stumbled blindly to the couch with her eyes filled by tears, no longer seeing the room. Memories were crowding in on her, overwhelming the present. She’d held them so long at bay. She’d been so careful. She’d never allowed herself too much of anything. Aunt Cami had understood. They’d carefully negotiated the perils of Christmas.
But now Trey and Wildcat Bluff had pushed past her defenses, knocked down her carefully constructed walls, and lured her into wanting more than she ever had before.