“There’s a time to get busy and there’s a time to mess around. Critical thing is to figure out when to do what.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that so when he put his hand out to her to help her up into the truck, Gloria took it. Not because she needed the help—good Lord it was a step up and she was wearing yoga attire—it was simply an automatic response.
There was no denying the response she had to touching his hand again. The calluses brought back every dirty image she’d fantasized about the night before. Her nipples tightened as if he’d rubbed the callous pad of his thumb against them. Her thighs twitched with the phantom memory of his calluses brushing sensitive skin in that general region, as well.
“You okay?” Dillon asked. “You sound like you’re out of breath.”
“I’m fine.” She turned toward the passenger window, lest Dillon be able to read her thoughts as well as hear her increased breath. “Thanks for picking up the furniture.”
“No problem.”
They rode in silence the rest of the thirty miles to the ranch. After she got her wandering, dirty thoughts under control, Gloria gazed out the windows and noticed the landscape. It really was beautiful country around here. Wild. Untamed. She could almost imagine what it must have been like for the first explorers to have discovered it, and she was willing to bet it really hadn’t changed much since Lewis and Clark’s time.
“You grew up in a beautiful part of the country,” she said, just as they turned onto the lane that would lead them to the ranch.
“I think so. But then, I’m biased.” Dillon backed the truck up to the porch that surrounded the log house and parked. They climbed out and went around back to the tailgate, which he lowered. “Let me see if Curtis and Thad are around to help unload.”
“I know I’m not much to look at, but I am pretty used to carrying furniture,” Gloria said, hands on hips.
Dillon took in her body with his gaze. Down, up, down—pause—up. “Not much to look at? Red, have you looked in the mirror lately?”
Gloria couldn’t remember ever being made to blush so easily and it, more than his comment, made her mad. “I can carry furniture.”
He ignored her because he was whistling to get the attention of the ranch hand who was walking toward the barn at that very moment. “Curtis, over here.”
To Gloria, he said, “Maybe when you don’t have help, it makes sense. But you’ve got help, so use it. You’re the expert. We’re the grunts. You tell us where to put the stuff and that’s what we’ll do.”
It made sense, yet for some reason, the fact that he was right made her even madder. Or...something. It wasn’t as if she was mad, she was—too busy to figure out what she was because the two men weren’t only strong, they were efficient. Much more efficient than she and Faith would have been...damn them.
They moved in a couch, a love seat and a chair and left them covered in a corner of the room. Then Gloria pointed out the furniture that needed to be removed, which was most of it.
Hands on his lower back, Dillon nodded, though there was no mistaking the look of pain that flashed across his face.
“I’ll get Thad to help,” Curtis offered. “You two move it out, we’ll carry it to the Quonset.”
* * *
THIS WAS THE last of the furniture for today. Dillon rose slowly, his back hollering at him. After the beating his spine had taken over the last decade of bull riding, all this bending and lifting was killing him. The doc had told him to do yoga to help strengthen and stretch the muscles around the damaged vertebrae. Any more riding and he’d be looking at surgery.
There was no way in hell Dillon would be caught dead doing yoga.
Though, if it meant he got to hang around with a woman like Gloria, wearing that tight yoga outfit, where every dip and curve was in plain view for his eyes to explore and feast upon, well, hell, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, though he preferred the kind of yoga a man did without clothes.
“Storm’s going to hit any minute,” Curtis said just as a gust of wind nearly stole his hat, whipping one way and then another, the air dropping ten degrees in a matter of minutes.
Dillon grabbed for his hat, holding it in place when a streak of lightning split the sky followed by an almost immediate ground-rattling roll of thunder. Within two more steps, big fat drops of cold rain kicked up little divots of dust in front of their feet.
“It’s here already,” Thad said, stating the obvious.
“You going to hit the road or wait it out?” Curtis asked.
“I’ll see what the boss says.”
Curtis swept his long hair out of his eyes only to have it blown back again. “I like her.”
“Me, too.”
By the time they got back to the house, they found Gloria had set out a meal for them in the dining room: cold cuts, pickles, biscuits, cheese. Beer. Considering no one had lived at the house for months, it didn’t surprise Dillon that she’d been able to make a meal out of what was in the larder. Most folks in these parts stocked their pantries for the apocalypse, even Kenny, apparently.
“You guys have been working hard all day, you need to keep up your strength,” Gloria said. “I know it’s not much but I hope it’ll do.”
Dillon was so touched by the effort he moved up close and leaned down to whisper, “Any reason I need to keep my strength up?” For not the first time today, he caught the scent of fresh laundry on her. It had to be his favorite perfume.
She turned and he’d swear there was playfulness in her gaze. It quickly hardened, but there was no doubt about it, Red was a day and maybe a beer and a half away from bantering right back...or more.
“Because if memory serves—” he dropped his voice even lower “—you require a good deal of stamina.”
There it was—the sweetest sight. A delicate pink hue appeared between the straps of her top, climbing her neck as if it was the face of a mountain, inch by inch.
A millisecond later a bolt of lightning lit up the room followed quickly by a resounding crack and the lights went off. It wasn’t late enough for it to be dark out, but the low clouds made it feel later than it was and the house darker than it should have been. Luckily, there were some candles on the sideboard in the dining room and Thaddeus pulled out his lighter and lit them.
Was it wrong of Dillon to wish the two other men away so he could sit there and share a romantic meal with Gloria? Curtis seemed to get the hint, quietly mentioning to Thad to head on back to the bunkhouse. But the weather had put Thad in a storytelling mood and somehow the fire got lit in the great room and the four of them ended up sitting around on what was left of the furniture, shooting the shit while Mother Nature put on a light show to rival the Fourth of July.
“You ever seen a mountain lion, Miss Gloria?”
“No.” Gloria’s eyes were wide as she listened to another of Thaddeus’s stories.
“City folk think bears are the ones to fear out here in the hills. Nope. Bears are more like us than we think, most of ’em just wanna be left alone to dig grubs, fish, find berries, that sort of thing. More people are killed by cows every year than bears.” Thad scrubbed a hand down his face. “The big cats on the other hand? They’re predators through and through. Stalking. Watching. If they attack, they attack for a reason. Purposeful. Why last spring, there was a big ol’ cat that decided it wanted Sue.”
“Who’s Sue?” Gloria asked, leaning forward.
“The resident mutt that follows Thad everywhere,” Dillon supplied. He could see Gloria’s mind working as she frowned, wondering what happened because she hadn’t seen the dog around.
“Did the lion get her?”
“Well now, let me tell you what happened...”
Dillon sat back and crossed his ankles, getting comfortable. Originally from Louisiana, Thad had the storytelling gene
and could make a trip to the hardware store into an epic tale on par with Homer’s Odyssey, rife with trials, tribulations, sirens and adventure.
“Now this cat had its eye on Sue. A sly thing, more cunning than any that had come around these parts before. Patient, too. Watching from afar, like it was taking note of her daily habits, storing all that information in its predator’s brain. But more than that, too. Like it was personal.
“To watch Sue, a guy’d a thought she had no idea she was being stalked. But I knew. Didn’t I say as much to you?” Thad pointed at Curtis who nodded reluctantly. “She a clever one, our Sue, and she wasn’t about to be outsmarted by some other critter that was skulking around her territory. You know what she did?”
“No?” Gloria said, obviously engaged in the story.
“She pretended she was hurt, limping like she’d torn her paw, making the cat believe she was an easy target. When the cat pounced, it was too late. Sue had lured it right into a big ol’ cat trap I’d set up. Snap.” Thad clapped his hands for emphasis, making Gloria jump. “And that was the end of that cat.”
“Is that true?”
“Darn tootin’. I’ve got a cougar skin rug at the foot of my bed to prove it. Sue sleeps on it most nights.”
“Where is Sue now?” Gloria asked.
“Coyotes probably got her.” Curtis’s lips twitched.
“Naw, she’s out on a walkabout at the moment. She’ll be back, mark my words.” Thad rubbed his hands together. “Now, there’s got to be a guitar around here somewhere. Curt?”
Curtis got up and found the instrument leaning against the same wall as the fireplace and held it out to Thad who shook his head and pointed at Dillon. Dillon gave it a strum and began tuning it when Gloria stood.
“It’s getting late. We’ve got a long drive back to town and this storm doesn’t seem to want to let up.”
Setting the guitar down, Dillon pushed himself to his feet, keeping his groan inside. “I’ve got to get the generator started before we leave.”
“Curt’ll take care of it,” Thad said. “You two better head out before it gets too dark.”
* * *
GLORIA RACED THROUGH the torrential downpour for the truck, using her notebook over her head as an umbrella. She would have rather stayed in the house, listening to Thad tell tall tales in his thick Southern accent, sitting beside Dillon, sneaking peeks at him while he sat there. God, she longed to hear him sing again.
But that was not what she needed.
What she needed was to do the job and go home. The fact that Dillon was so helpful today moving furniture around, despite the obvious pain in his back, not putting up a fight when she had him declutter most of the main floor, made her fondness grow. She’d been expecting him to pull something like he did at the fund-raiser last year where he seemed to want to undo everything she’d done. He hadn’t.
“Spring storms can be nasty,” he said, as he started the truck up and got the windshield wipers going. “With snow still in the mountains, water levels can rise quick.”
Gloria didn’t trust herself to speak because she had too many warm thoughts toward him right now. When she didn’t comment, he leaned in and turned on the radio, fishing for a station that wasn’t all crackle and settling on a local talk-radio station.
Within seconds, an alert sounded and an automated voice came over the radio: “A severe weather warning continues for all of southwestern Montana, including Beaverhead, Deer Lodge, Granite, Madison, Jefferson, Ravalli, Gallatin and Silver Bow Counties. Power outages, hail and flash flooding have been reported in Beaverhead, Deer Lodge, Silver Bow...”
The weather alert continued and Gloria glanced at Dillon, whose face was almost invisible, lit only by the console lights in the truck. Inky blackness surrounded them and the headlights only cast light so far. It was as if the road only existed a few yards in front of them and at any moment they’d be driving off the edge of the world into nothingness.
Suddenly, a large, dark shape appeared by the side of the road. Then another and another.
“Shit!”
Dillon’s sudden expletive, combined with him slamming on the brakes kick-started Gloria’s pulse.
“What is it?”
“Bridge is out.” He pointed ahead where the small one-lane bridge had been. In its place was a torrent of water. “A fence must be down, too, because the cattle are out roaming.” He put the truck in Reverse but the tires just spun. “Dammit.” He popped the truck into four-wheel drive and backed up slowly before managing to find a spot wide enough to turn around.
Suddenly the already scary storm took on a whole new level of darkness as Dillon sped back to the ranch, the windshield wipers moving at a harried pace across the windscreen, not doing a bit of good.
“What are you going to do?”
“We need to get the cattle to higher ground. With them all down in that low spot, they’re in danger of getting caught in the flood, particularly with all the new calves.” He cursed beneath his breath. “The thing about a herd is they like to play follow the leader, even if the leader decides to go and get its dumb self drowned.”
The two hands must have seen the headlights of the truck coming back because they came running across the yard and met Gloria and Dillon under the overhang on the porch. Dillon gave them the lowdown on the cattle.
“Is the road passable?” Thad asked.
“Nope. Nearly got my 4x4 stuck.”
“Best take horses.” Thad kicked the ground as though he was mad at it. “Dammit, we need a few more hands to wrangle that herd. They’re probably split on both sides of the creek.”
“It’s more like a river than a creek now.”
“I’ll go get the horses saddled,” Curtis said.
“Make it four,” Gloria shouted to be heard above the pounding rain.
Dillon frowned at her. “I appreciate the offer, Gloria, but this isn’t the time for a horseback lesson.”
“I’m a good rider. Let me help.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“This is unfamiliar territory. You’ll be riding an unfamiliar horse. I don’t need to worry about you and the cattle.”
She knew what he was thinking, that she’d sat on a horse a couple of times on holiday and now thought she knew how to ride—which was not the case at all. There was no time to argue and only one way to get him on her side. She had to show him.
Stepping right up to him, she said, “You don’t need to worry about me. Saddle one up and I’ll show you. If you still don’t think I can ride after we hit the edge of the yard, I’ll come back.”
Gloria could see all three men weighing the need for a fourth over having some city girl from Chicago being a liability when things were already dire.
Dillon rubbed the whiskers on his jaw. “Okay. I’ll let you show me if you can ride. But you’ve got to promise to come back if I say so. No argument.”
“I promise.”
8
AS MUCH AS DILLON liked Red, now was not the time for this shit. In fact, by the way the other two were grumbling and Thad was cracking his knuckles, they thought it was nuts, too. He just hoped she’d be quick about it and abide by the promise she’d made, coming back to the house after she found she couldn’t keep up.
Though the woman did seem to know how to work the straps on the stirrups, shortening the length to fit her. That was an unexpected development. And she sure as hell looked cute with that big oilskin jacket swallowing her as she sat astride, but there was no mistaking the expression of unease as she settled into the saddle.
When her gaze met his—which was no doubt skeptical—she squinted and said, “I’m used to an English saddle, but I’m sure I’ll get used to this.” She patted the saddle horn. “It’s a lot bigger, that’s for
sure.”
Of course. City woman would ride English. She made a soft clicking sound and maneuvered the horse in a circle toward the door. Okay, so the woman managed to direct the gelding out of the stable, that didn’t mean she’d have the first clue how to ride in a storm with a bunch of scared cattle doing whatever the hell they wanted while floodwaters threatened to sweep them all away.
“Where’d you learn to ride?” Dillon asked as he caught up with her.
“I spent every summer at horse camp after my mom died. My dad...” She pulled the collar of the jacket closer. “Well, I loved it. It was the best part of my year.” She smiled and the next thing Dillon knew, Gloria took off, riding circles around him, spitting up mud as the circles narrowed in closer and closer, showing off just how much control she had of the horse, moving with the animal as if it was an extension of her body.
Damn.
Then, for all that was holy, the woman turned the horse and headed full tilt for a low fence.
Dillon envisioned the horse putting on the brakes and her going headfirst over the horse and fence, landing hard on the other side and breaking her neck. He kicked his horse into a run, his heart in his throat as she picked up speed the closer she got to the fence. Then, all be damned, woman and horse flew right over the fence, and the two of them landed soft and easy, as though they’d been jumping together for years. She circled once more before riding right up to the three of them—three stunned men—probably all carbon copies of one another: eyes wide, mouths open.
“Damn, girl.” Thad rubbed his cheek. “That was something else.”
“That was more than horse camp,” Dillon said.
She shrugged. “I used to compete. It’s been a while but,” she said, pausing, “the second I saw this horse, I could tell he was raring to go. He’s got lots of energy, like he hasn’t been ridden in a while.” She patted the animal’s neck. “We’re going to get along just fine.”
* * *
CONSIDERING HOW WARM it had been earlier in the day, Gloria was now chilled to the bone. It must have been almost midnight by the time they managed to get most of the cattle to high ground. The four of them had split up, Thaddeus and Curtis working with the half on the east side of the ranch, where the ground was low and more treacherous. She and Dillon had come around the west, forging higher ground and corralling the herd on the other side of what had been a creek—something she could have jumped across on the back of the gelding—and now was a raging river of mud and debris.
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