At the Lazy S, he and his dad had sold healthy, well-trained horses, not a fantasy of Western life. Yet that was exactly what Taryn was selling. The bed they’d put together on Monday was proof of that.
He handed her the lead ropes. “What’s supposed to happen once I get them organized?”
“I’ll stop filming,” Caitlin said. “Because you’re right. Clipping lead ropes on them and leading them into the barn isn’t particularly exciting. If you could take your time rounding them up, maybe make it look harder than it is, that would be wonderful.”
“So essentially I’m putting on an act.”
“To some extent.” Taryn looped the ropes over her arm. “A big part of hospitality is presenting good theater. You’re entertaining people who come expecting a certain experience. If you give them that experience, they’re happy. They come back, they spread the word to others, and the location thrives.”
“Alrighty, then.” He touched two fingers to the brim of his hat. “Ladies.” And he sauntered off toward the pasture, grinning. Oh, yeah, he’d get ragged unmercifully by his loving family if they saw this clip, but if he had to do it, he might as well have fun. One Hollywood cowboy, coming up.
Honey Butter was grazing peacefully about ten yards away. Pete called out to the palomino, who lifted his head and continued chewing.
“Wanna be a movie star, Honey Butter? We’ll be a team, you and me. I’ll be the stunt man and you’ll be the trick horse. Got it?”
The gelding just looked at him, eyelids at half-mast. Unimpressed.
“You can’t just stand there while I climb aboard. Get a move on, son.” He slapped the horse’s hindquarters. Honey Butter snorted and trotted off.
“Much better.” Pete loped after him, grabbed a hunk of mane while they were both in motion, and vaulted smoothly onto his back. He used to have fun doing that when he was a teenager. Still did.
Then he leaned over the horse’s silky neck. “Pedal to the metal time, Honey Butter.” Tightening his leg muscles, he applied pressure to the gelding’s ribs. “Ha!” And they were off, galloping around the pasture.
Naturally that stirred up the other five, who decided it must be frolic time. Herding the gallivanting horses into a cohesive group was tricky, but not as difficult as he made it look.
He drew the process out until they were clearly getting sick of the game. Then he drove them toward the gate. “How was that?”
“Great!” Caitlin lowered her camera. “Exactly what I was looking for.”
“I just had a thought.” He slid down and looked at Taryn. “Won’t some of the guests who’ve seen that video expect the same kind of nonsen—uh, I mean performance when they get here?”
“They might.” She opened the gate and came in with two of the lead ropes. “Would you have a problem doing it every so often?”
“I suppose not. The horses seemed to get a charge out of it.” He clipped a lead rope to Honey Butter’s halter. “Bet you’d like to escort this bad boy in.”
“Sure would.” She took the rope and stroked the gelding’s white blaze. “Hey, buddy. You looked terrific out there, mane and tail flying, coat flashing in the sun.”
“Speaking of the sun…” Pete glanced up at the sky. “We’re burning daylight and I have to have the truck back by four.”
“Then let’s get these boys in their stalls and start decorating.” She glanced at him. “Thanks for cooperating. I hope it didn’t pain you too much to do it.”
“To be honest, it was kind of fun.” Getting a chance to show off for her wasn’t all bad.
After the horses were tucked into their stalls, he brought in the pile of evergreen branches he’d cut and Taryn went back to the house for red ribbon and wire. While Caitlin filmed them, they made swags for the stall doors and hung them low enough that the horses wouldn’t be able to lean over and start nibbling.
Caitlin couldn’t talk because her comments would be picked up on the video. She’d encouraged them to make conversation, though, so they wouldn’t come off as robotic.
They’d agreed on a topic prior to the start of shooting—favorite holiday traditions. They’d compared experiences with stockings, treats for Santa, and opening presents.
He saved his best one until they were almost finished. He wired the last swag and passed it to her so she could add the ribbon. “In my family, we always go down to the barn about ten minutes before midnight.”
“What for?” She concentrated on the bow she was creating.
“Legend says that at midnight the horses are given the gift of speech.”
She glanced up in surprise. “And do they talk?”
He loved that instead of laughing at the idea, she was willing to believe it might be possible. “I can’t say. I’ve never heard them, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“And you go every Christmas Eve?”
“Got to. It’s tradition. Maybe this will be the year I’ll hear them say something.”
“Like what?”
“I’ve thought about that. Ever since I got Clifford when I was sixteen, I’ve expected him to say change my name, damn it. He never has, so he continues to be Clifford, which is the name he had when he arrived at the Lazy S.”
“I’m assuming we’ll still be at Wild Creek at midnight. Do you know if Kendra has that tradition?”
“Don’t know, but now that my dad’s in the picture, I’ll bet it’ll become part of the mix. I’ve never known him to miss that barn visit on Christmas Eve.”
“I want to do it, too. Although now that I think about it, I’d rather be in this barn, with these guys. I’d love to hear what they have to say.”
“Then we’ll come back here before midnight.”
“But that means leaving your family.”
He smiled. “I’ll have spent hours with them by then, and considering how many people will be in that ranch house on Christmas Eve, they’ll have a crowd going down to the barn. I’d rather be here with you.”
Damn. That revealing statement was now recorded for posterity. He’d completely lost track of Caitlin and her camcorder.
Evidently he’d gone all deer-in-the-headlights, because Taryn dropped her gaze to the ribbon she was arranging and lowered her voice. “No worries. She’ll edit that out.”
He nodded, but wasn’t willing to take it as a given. Before he left to return the bucket truck he found a moment to talk privately with Caitlin.
“I’d already planned to take it out.” Her gaze was kind. “The video is designed to promote the ranch, not reveal a budding romance between you two.”
“We’re just good friends.”
Caitlin smiled. “Good friends make great lovers.”
That caught him flat-footed. He couldn’t come up with anything but a quick yes, ma’am. Then he said goodbye to Taryn and left before he managed to snarl himself up even worse.
He’d been prepared to return the bucket truck and come back to feed, but Taryn had insisted it wasn’t necessary. The horses were already in their stalls, so all she had left was delivering hay flakes. Which was true, but she also might be playing it safe.
He got it. Despite her passionate response during the selfie incident, she was still debating the pros and cons. He could see it in her eyes whenever he caught her looking at him.
The lights hadn’t come on in the trees by the time he pulled away from the ranch, but tomorrow was good enough. He’d see them first thing in the morning when he drove in. He could wait.
After returning the truck and booking next year’s reservation, he hopped in his pickup and headed for home. A gray sedan he didn’t recognize was parked in front of the house. Looked like an airport rental.
Parking his truck, he hurried up to the house, eager to find out if his guess about the car and its driver was correct. By the time his boots hit the porch steps, he had the answer. The laughter coming from inside the house clinched it. Uncle Brendan had arrived.
He walked through the door and his uncle was
already on his feet, coming toward him. “Damn it, Pete, you’re bigger and better lookin’ than I remember.” He gave him a fierce hug. “Come on back to ’stralia with me, mate. My boss could use that kind of muscle and I know several ladies who’d be delighted to meet you.”
“Sorry. Not interested.” He loved hearing the accent his uncle had picked up from thirty years of working Down Under. Very Crocodile Dundee. “I like it fine right where I am.” He accepted the beer his dad handed him. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Have a seat, son. Kendra will be over shortly and I’ve notified everyone else that this crazy guy’s finally turned up. Plane was early. Good thing I was home.”
“Yea, yea, no worries if you hadn’t been, big brother. I’d have let myself in and helped myself to your beer.” Beer came out as beah. He reclaimed his spot on the couch and picked up the bottle he’d left on an end table. “Not a bad brew, either.” He examined the bottle. “I could grow to actually like it.”
Pete took the other end of the couch. “When did you get in?”
“’bout an hour ago. Good thing you’re sitting downwind. I could use a shower after more’n twenty-four hours in the air, but Quinn shoved a beer in my hand and I gave up the idea for the time being.”
“You look pretty good, considering.” Pete hadn’t seen his uncle in a couple of years, but he hadn’t changed much, still tanned and fit from wrangling horses at a dude ranch. His hair might be slightly grayer, but that was to be expected when he was nearing fifty.
He smiled. “Thanks. Nice little town you have, but it’s a helluva lot harder to get to than Spokane. Easier to navigate the Outback.”
Pete’s dad settled back in his favorite easy chair. “Then save yourself the trouble and move here.”
“You should,” Pete said. “Add one more to the growing Sawyer population.”
“And what’s up with that? First I hear that Roxanne migrated down this way, and next thing I know, it’s a stampede of Sawyers. It’s nice that you’re all bunched up so I can see the lot of you at one go, but damn, is the place really that spectacular?”
“It’s a great town,” his dad said. “But as I was telling you when Pete showed up, that wasn’t my motivation.”
“And speakin’ of your motivation.” He glanced at his watch, a classic he’d had ever since Pete could remember. “Isn’t she overdue? I thought she said ten minutes or so.”
“She did, but she could have been sidetracked by that grandbaby.”
“Yeah, that’s the other news I can’t wrap my head around. My big brother’s a grandpa and he’s coupled up with a grandma. How does that feel?”
His dad smiled. “Terrific.”
“Hard to imagine.” He glanced at Pete. “You and me, mate. The only remainin’ single Sawyers.”
“Looks like it.”
“So you haven’t been bitten by the love bug that seems to be runnin’ rampant in this town?”
“No, sir.” What about that kiss, hotshot?
“So glad to hear it.” His uncle raised his beer bottle. “To the Sawyer bachelors.”
“Proud to be in the club, Uncle Brendan.” Pete tapped his bottle against his uncle’s and took a long swallow. He’d gone along with the toast because it seemed like the thing to do, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Quinn tells me you’re followin’ in my footsteps, working at a dude ranch.”
“That I am.”
“And your boss is a single lady?”
“Yep.”
“Pretty?”
He hesitated. Saying the truth, that she was beautiful, would put too fine a point on his feelings about the matter.
“She’s very attractive,” his dad said. “Nice, too. I finally met her at Roxanne and Michael’s wedding last month.”
His uncle nodded. “Pretty and nice. That’s a lethal combination, Pete. If you like the job, listen to your Uncle Brendan. Steer clear. That’s a situation that can fall apart faster than a jackaroo can guzzle a pint.”
Pete gazed at him. “Speaking from experience, are you?”
“I had a near miss. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
Chapter Fourteen
After Caitlin left, Taryn made a quick run to the Eagles Nest Market to stock up on enough groceries to get her through the next few days. Then she stopped by the Guzzling Grizzly Country Store and picked up two bottles of the wine Kendra liked. Back home again, she wasted no time putting everything away. She’d been waiting for a spare moment all day.
Grabbing her phone, she walked into the living room and opened her picture app. Oh. One glance at the image of the kiss and she was standing in the bucket, knees weak and heart pounding. Moisture pooled in her mouth.
She scrolled to the next picture, which wasn’t any different. She swiped faster, turning the shots into a mini-movie. Sinking down to the couch, she swallowed and kept going. Her lips tingled and her chest grew tight. And hot. She was so hot.
There. She paused the action. That was the moment he’d gone deeper, the moment she’d invited him to go deeper. She kept scrolling, gripping the phone and squirming against the cushion. Then it was over. Last picture. She gulped for air and pressed the phone to her galloping heart.
This was crazy. It was a kiss, for God’s sake. One very short kiss. Putting down the phone, she left the couch and snatched her parka off the hook by the door.
The Christmas lights were still on. Zipping her parka as she crossed the porch, she pulled up her hood and shoved her hands in her pockets. Cold air was her friend. She hurried past the glittering spruce trees and under the lighted arch.
Movement was good, too. She race-walked across the open area between the house and the barn and finally stopped when her chest ached. Dragging icy air into her lungs, she gazed at the lighted trees in the grove.
You had to look, didn’t you?
Gradually her breathing slowed and her head cleared. One kiss. Well, two, if she counted the one from French toast night. But it wasn’t like she’d slept with him. She could still turn things around, get back on solid, platonic ground.
Wouldn’t be easy, though. Why did he have to be so sexy? And such a good guy? If she did sleep with him she could risk everything she was working toward.
So she wouldn’t sleep with him. Decision made. She needed to delete those pictures, too. Unfortunately, she’d promised him she wouldn’t, at least not until he’d seen them. She wasn’t in the habit of breaking promises. In any case, she wouldn’t look at them again.
* * *
Taryn was loading her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher when she heard Pete’s truck. She finished, quickly grabbed her parka, and headed outside. Much colder than last night. Brrr.
The trees in the grove were on already, but she had to manually turn on the house and yard Christmas lights. They hadn’t welcomed Pete this morning. Maybe a timer for the house and yard was a good idea, after all.
As she left the porch and headed for the barn, he parked beside it. Then he got out, walked over until he had a good view of the grove, and gazed at it, hands on his hips.
“Aren’t the lights amazing?” She hurried toward him, holding the furry edges of her hood against her face with her gloved hands.
He turned to her and smiled. “Not bad. If I still had the bucket truck, I’d fix that one spot.”
“Which spot?” She stood beside him and squinted at the lights while she tried not to shiver. “Looks fabulous to me.”
“Pretty much, but there’s one place on the last tree where I’m not happy with how I looped the strand. The light pattern’s not as symmetrical.”
“I c-can’t see what you’re t-talking about.”
“Right there.” He put his arm around her shoulders and turned her a little while he pointed toward a middle section of the tree. “Between the eighth and ninth rows of lights. Too much of a gap.”
She wasn’t cold anymore. “Okay. I see it, but I doubt anyone else would.” He was so warm and cozy. If he kissed her right now, ev
en her toes would be toasty. No sleeping with Pete, no sleeping with Pete.
He sucked in a breath, released her and stepped away. “Next year we should keep the truck overnight so we can fix anything that shows up after the fact.” He tugged down the brim of his Stetson, making it tougher to read his expression.
“Good idea.” Whatever impulse had prompted him to put his arm around her, he’d clearly thought better of it. Maybe he’d come to the same conclusion she had. “Also, I’ve decided a timer on the house and yard lights is a good idea, after all.”
“I’ll set it up today, then.” He started toward the barn.
“Did you see the weather on TV last night?”
“I did. My uncle arrived yesterday. When he saw that report, he was glad he’d beat the snowstorm.”
“So he did come after all! Can’t wait to meet him.”
“He’s the same Uncle Brendan, living the life. Seems perfectly happy to be an Aussie jackaroo. Almost sounds like a native, calling people mate and dropping his r’s.”
“Does he wear an Aussie-style hat?”
“No, he still wears a Stetson.” He slid back the bar holding the barn doors closed. “We all thought he’d get sick of living so far away, but he claims he’d miss the howl of the dingoes.”
“Over here he could listen to wolves.” She stepped inside the warm barn and ditched her parka.
“Wolves, coyotes, owls—you’d think he could make do with them, but evidently not. Watching that movie as a teenager changed his life.”
“Is he younger or older than your dad?” She put hay flakes in her wheelbarrow and moved to the front of the barn.
“Younger, but not by much. Less than two years, I think.” Pete loaded his wheelbarrow. “You can see that younger brother versus older brother thing going on. My dad’s the steady, responsible one and my uncle’s the guy who ran off to find adventure in Australia.”
“Kind of like you and Gage.”
“Kind of like that, only now Gage is a dedicated family man and I’m the one with no strings. As my uncle pointed out last night, we’re the only two Sawyer bachelors left.”
A Cowboy's Holiday (The McGavin Brothers Book 12) Page 9