I try to laugh a little at that. “Uh, no. I–er, checked a few things. I hope you haven’t been waiting the whole time. I texted Tucker about the flight delay but wasn’t sure he ever got it.” The expression on her face gives me no doubt that she’s been waiting. “I’m so sorry.” I apologize again.
In that moment, my two gigantic but fantastic Louis Vitons are dropped by the magical airport gods onto the caterpillar-like carousel conveyor belt. With a vague wave at Tucker’s sister, I hobble over to the merry-go-round apparatus in my four-inch heels and struggle to remove both of them before they disappear back into the bowels of the luggage train tunnel.
Where are all the big strong gentlemen when you need them? Using all the strength I can muster, I capture one, and then the other. I try to laugh at my exertions, but Jessamine James’ grim expression doesn’t budge. She simply glares at me warily, arms folded across her chest.
The luggage is large and heavy, but on wheels, and if I’d only had an extra hand or two, I’d have been more than fine dragging them along myself. As it is… alas, I have but two hands.
Summoning my last vestiges of optimism, I smile at Tucker’s sister hopefully. “You wouldn’t mind grabbing one of these, would you?” I’ll have enough difficulty managing one of them and my carry-on as it is.
My heels and tight pencil skirt, as sexy as they’d felt earlier this morning, feel utterly inappropriate about now.
I wore this outfit for Tucker. I wanted to doll up for him.
The disdain in his sister’s eyes, however, leaves me in no doubt that she thoroughly disapproves of my attire.
She lets out something of a huff, takes hold of the handle on one of the suitcases, and without saying a word, marches toward the exit.
I don’t know how someone with legs that short manages to walk so fast. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she’s wearing a comfortable looking pair of jeans and cowboy boots while I’m balancing on heels. I can barely keep up with her.
And then we step outside.
Did I mention that it was raining? Ah, yes.
Cats and dogs.
Now I have puddles and streams of water to contend with as well. Navigating the parking lot, a virtual landscape of rivers and lakes, I wince inwardly. These shoes were once my favorites. Now they are sopping wet and rubbing blisters into my heels.
Jessamine strides about ten yards in front of me for what feels like a mile. Damned if I’m not utterly relieved when she finally stops at a huge pick-up truck.
No back seat though.
No trunk.
She opens the tailgate. It’s littered with scraps of hay and mud. And then tosses my suitcase on top.
But?
I die a little inside.
I’m breathless as I arrive beside her. “Do you have anything we can cover them with?” I seriously doubt Louis Viton thought to waterproof the fashionable luggage when he designed it. I feel guilty about the plane being so late and I hate to be a bother but…
She grimaces. “Let me see if there’s something tucked behind the seat that we can use.”
I stand mournfully in the rain, in three inches of water, no less, while she opens the door and pulls out a blue tarp.
We spend the next ten minutes tying it down over my suitcases before both of us climb into the cab of the truck.
“What happened to Tucker? He’s not sick, is he?” I was so disappointed not to see him that I feel guilty when the thought strikes me while I tug at my seatbelt. What kind of girlfriend am I?
She would have told me if something bad had happened, wouldn’t she?
“Rain washed out a bunch of our fences.” Her answer is terse. “He and the boys had to take care of them. Ranch always comes first. You might as well get used to it.”
Poor Tucker! He’s probably beating himself up for not being able to come to the airport for me.
“Thanks for coming all this way today.” And in this weather!
Jessamine and I should have plenty of time to get to know one another. From what Tucker told me before, it’s a two-hour drive from the airport to the ranch.
“Bad weather all around then?” This storm must be huge. If fences washed out it must be raining in the mountains too.
Ashlee would have a field day with this. I stare down at my ruined shoes and shiver as Jessamine nods and then maneuvers out of the parking lot and onto a highway.
“Well, thank you for driving down to get me.” I’m trying to be gracious.
She barks out a short laugh. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.” Her gaze is focused on the road. The wet and cold seep through me as the windshield wipers rhythmically swipe back and forth.
Jessamine is wearing a thick denim jacket. “Would you mind if I turn on the heater?”
She reaches forward and hits the defrost button. Cold air blows unto the dash and a chill seeps through me.
What have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER TWO
Isabella
When Tucker told me the drive from Denver to his ranch took about two hours, I now realize he should have added… in good conditions.
Traffic, then visibility, then a nearly washed out rutted road extend the travel time by an additional hour and a half. After attempting to make conversation on a few different topics, I eventually give up and watch the passing scenery.
Obviously, Tucker’s little sister not only resents having to pick me up from the airport, she resents my very existence. The headache building behind my eyes keeps me from imagining a similar reception from the rest of his family.
His mother, his grandmother, how many brothers? His children? Occasionally I check my phone, but Tucker still hasn’t texted me.
How long does it take a handful of brawny young men to fix a fence?
“I doubt he’ll look at his phone. Cell service on the ranch is pretty spotty and it’s not like he works behind a desk.” It’s the longest stream of words she’s put together in the entirety of our drive.
Her attitude throws me off. Antagonism radiates from her, and I have no idea what to say.
Most people like me.
I take a deep breath and remind myself this isn’t about me, personally. Right? How can she hate me? She doesn’t even know me.
I need to be patient.
From what I understand, since Tucker’s dad passed away a few years ago, Tucker’s the man of the family. As the oldest of four kids, he’s taken on the burden of his family’s legacy by overseeing operations on the ranch where they all grew up.
Most of them still live on the property.
It had sounded romantic and exciting while we sat on the beach sipping Mai Tais. In this moment, it’s morphed into something more complicated than I could have imagined.
I’m freezing, tired, and suddenly anxious about my decision.
Jessamine drops the truck into the lowest gear possible to climb a hair-raising section of the road which causes me to grip the edges of my seat. We crest the rise and a large house with some outbuildings comes into view. It must be Bear Creek Ranch.
After carefully executing the hairpin turns to the valley below, my future sister in law pulls the truck next to a large building which I assume is some sort of barn. It’s still pouring outside, and what must normally be a dirt and gravel parking area resembles something of a mud pit.
I take a few deep breaths. My hands are shaking.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I just need to get myself from point A to point B.
In my heels. Which are likely ruined already.
They’re only shoes? Right? Eight hundred-dollar shoes. But who’s counting? Money isn’t the issue here. I love him, right?
I do love him, don’t I?
Deciding I have no choice but to follow this through, I open the door, take hold of my carry-on, and climb out of the truck.
My shoes sink so far down that mud seeps over the tops and onto my toes. God, I hope it’s only mud. And yes, it
’s nearly impossible to keep them hooked on my feet. With each step, the oozing sludge does it’s best to claim them. I trail after Jessamine as she marches toward the house.
And then the dogs come.
Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs! And it’s rare that I’m afraid of one but when three mud covered mongrels come tearing at me like the hounds from hell I have difficulty keeping my wits about me. And my balance.
“Down boys.” Tails wagging, their exuberance would normally be adorable. Maybe sometime in the distant future I’ll look back on this and laugh, but for now, I’m a little distraught.
By the time I’ve been thoroughly greeted and welcomed, I’m covered in mud. So much for looking good for Tucker! So much for my new rose-colored silk blouse and deliciously sexy pencil skirt.
I even find myself welcoming the rain thinking it might clean some of the mud off me.
“Rascal! Mutt! Cody!” Jessamine calls the dogs off after they’ve covered me in wet dog and brownish green sludgy matter. “They won’t hurt you.” She throws me an innocent glance, but laughter lurks behind her gaze. She looks perfectly comfortable in her boots, worn jeans, and comfortable denim jacket.
Gritting my teeth, I trail after her again. I don’t bother trying to drag my carry-on. It would only get stuck in the mud, so instead I clutch it in front of me. Nothing can happen to this baby. It contains my beloved laptop! I feel a little safer clutching it against my chest. Almost like it’s… armor? If nothing else, I know I have one clean change of clothing. Something to wear on the plane home tomorrow, perhaps?
Despite the cloudy sky, despite the mud, the twinkle of my engagement ring catches my eye.
I haven’t even seen him yet. How can I possibly contemplate going home? I pick my way to the door determined to not be run off so easily.
My beautiful Manolo Blahniks are… unrecognizable. When I step in out of the rain I’m in the perfect place. A mudroom! I peel off my ruined shoes and then use my fingers to try to fluff up my hair.
Surely, if Tucker was here, he’d have met me outside.
The Tucker I know would carry me through the mud like a hero in a romance novel.
Catching sight of a towel, I use it to try to brush some of the mud from my clothing but groan inwardly at the futility of my efforts. Streaks of grime run from the tops of my breasts to the bottom of my skirt now.
Barefoot, I figure I’ve procrastinated long enough. As though I’m forcing myself through a haunted house, I push open the second door into a laundry area.
Murmuring voices quiet when the door slams shut behind me. Female voices. With my shoulders back, I stride into a kitchen where I’m met with four suspicious gazes.
Jessamine, of course, and then a handsome woman who must be Tucker’s mother and an elderly looking lady who has to be his grandmother. The fourth woman doesn’t seem to share the family characteristics but can be described as nothing other than a raven-haired beauty. She does not have mascara running down her face, or mud on her shirt. She, in fact, looks perfectly comfortable and more than a little smug.
“Hello?” I twist my mouth into a smile.
Two other, smaller sets of eyes the exact shade as Tucker’s peek out from behind Jessamine. Two little boys.
These cuties must be Little Tuck and Leeland. Oh, my God. They’re miniature Tuckers. Little Tuck, the oldest, puts one hand on the smaller one’s shoulder. At six years old, he already seems protective of his younger brother. Met with only silence from the adults, I turn to the little one. Crouching down, I reach out my hand. “I’m Isabella. Do I look like I’ve been playing in the mud? Rascal, Mutt and Cody sure like playing in the mud.”
Leeland is grinning but Little Tuck’s eyes are nearly as suspicious as the women’s.
“Mutt likes mud.” Leeland’s hand rises to his mouth and he slides his thumb into it.
“He sure does.” I smile but don’t want to overwhelm him. Standing upright again, I turn to face the woman I’m guessing is Tucker’s mom. “You must be Mrs. James?” They’re all staring at me like I’m an alien or something.
She nods. “You might as well call me Maggie.” Tucker must have gotten his eye color from his father. His mother’s are cool and gray. Despite the chill in the air, despite the horrible day I’ve had so far, I’m determined to be amicable.
They don’t know me from Adam and I’m here to marry someone they care for very much. What has Tucker told them about me? I really want them to like me!
“This here is Katherine, Tucker’s grandmother.” Maggie makes the introduction a little grudgingly.
I lean forward and take her cool dry hand in mine. His grandmother does have those deep green eyes. “Katherine?”
“Call me Grandma.” Finally, a genuine smile. “Tucker and the boys aren’t back yet. The rain washed an entire section of fence out. He told us to make you feel at home.”
I’m grateful for one friendly face. I never knew my own grandmother. Either of them.
“Thank you for having me. I can’t imagine working outside in these conditions. This storm…” I’m not sure what else to say. I imagine if the fence is out then all his cows could run away or something.
“And Cassidy is a good friend of the family.” Maggie gestures across the room to the gorgeous woman beside Jessamine.
“Nice to meet you.” I’m vague. A wave of exhaustion catches me by surprise. All I want is a shower, dry clothing, and a bed. I pull my ruined shirt away from my skin. “I’m afraid I’m something of a mess. Is there somewhere I can change?”
Maggie grimaces and meets her mother-in-law’s stare. Katherine’s brows rise as though challenging her. Maggie tosses a towel into the sink. “Of course. Right this way.”
Again, I’m trailing after a bristling James woman. I don’t care though. I’m out of the rain, out of the mud, and five minutes away from washing this grime off me.
I’ll tackle their animosity later.
She leads me through a comfortable looking living area with a huge stone fireplace and vaulted ceilings. I can’t help but imagine a giant Christmas tree in here. The leather couch and rustic furniture make it feel almost like a ski lodge. I’ve never taken to the sport itself, but there’s a lot to be said for hot toddies at the bottom of the mountain.
After climbing an open staircase, Maggie turns on the landing and points to the left. “Tuck’s room.” She opens the door and gestures me to enter. The hard glint in her eyes conveys blatant disapproval.
Ahh… some understanding dawns.
I could have asked her if it was an issue – volunteered to take a smaller room – alone – but at the same time I want nothing more than to sleep curled up in my future husband’s arms.
“Thank you.” I nod and smile. These women will get used to me. I’m not the enemy. If only they’d give me a chance.
I drag my carry-on into the spacious masculine room and face my future mother-in-law again.
She’s standing there as though she has something she wants to say.
“We’ll hold off on dinner ’til the boys return.”
I murmur something agreeable even though I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.
She nods and turns on her heels.
I want to collapse after closing the door but my clothing is filthy. No way can I give in to the urge to lie down on the homemade quilt covering Tucker’s giant king size bed.
I can’t think of it as mine yet.
Warmth spreads through me at the thought that I’m in Tucker’s room. Seeing cologne sitting on top of a dresser, I open it and inhale.
Essence de la Tucker.
Glancing up, I admire his bedroom’s tray ceiling. This is more than a place to lay your head, it’s a beautiful suite. I wander around, running my hand along the pine walls. The house is a huge log cabin; home to most of his family.
A luxuriously furnished bathroom greets me when I slip through an arched opening. Large tub, walk in shower.
Maybe I could just live in here.
Hide away from Tucker’s family for the next few days.
I dismiss the notion.
If Tucker and I are going to work, I’m going to have to find my peace with that motley crew downstairs. And they – I remind myself – are going to have to make their peace with me.
Unwilling to wait a moment longer, I unpack my laptop, fresh panties and bra, and the T-shirt and yoga pants I always travel with. I turn on the shower and lose myself in the heavy stream of hot water.
The pounding spray washes away more than mud. It cleanses me of most of the doubt and misgivings stirred up by the lackluster welcome.
I don’t want to admit that Ashlee is right.
Twenty minutes later, I’m warm and dry and clean. I know I’m going to have to venture out again. Face the cavalry, so to speak, but I’m exhausted.
Just a few minutes.
I lie down on Tucker’s bed and pull a knitted throw over me.
The scent on the pillow reminds me of Tucker, but something else too. Something unfamiliar.
I choke on a sob and before I can stop myself I’m caught up in a full-blown cryfest.
This is stupid. I’m stronger than this.
I’m here because I love him. He’s worth the risk. He’s everything I ever wanted.
I bury my head in the pillow. Nothing wrong with a quick nap. I can regroup after. Figure out a plan.
CHAPTER THREE
Tucker
Every time we finish repairing one broken section, we hear about another. This better be the last one. I’m coated with mud and soaked to the bone, but this isn’t what’s got me fit to be tied.
My fiancé – whom I haven’t seen in four weeks – is flyin’ in today – and I’m not there to meet her.
She’s coming to Colorado, giving up her life in California to come live with me, to marry me. And I can’t even make it to the damned airport.
At least, as a novelist, she doesn’t have to give up her job.
But moving out here. It’s a big deal. I wanted everything to be perfect.
So much for my plans.
Instead of greeting her properly at the airport, I’m stuck out here in the rain, knee deep in cactus and sludge, putting this damn ranch back together. Because, no, when Mother Nature finally decides to grace us with some moisture, we don’t just get a few sprinkles, we get a frog strangler!
The Mile High Madness Page 35