Lucky Number Thirteen: An Inspirational Western Romance Novella (Three Rivers Ranch Romance Book 9)

by Isaacson, Liz

  She chose to get out of the car. “I still haven’t seen your living conditions.” She grabbed his file from the backseat. “I have to report on them.”

  “Come on in, then.” His smile this time held more than friendship, more than teasing, and her pulse pounded in a way it hadn’t in years.

  7

  Tanner wasn’t sure how he could make it through five dates with the fun, flirty, fantastic Summer Hamblin before kissing her. Still, part of him didn’t want to go too fast either. He wanted to know if he could be attracted to a woman physically and take the time to get to know her. He hated to admit that it was a new concept for him—and why he hadn’t really tried to have a relationship in the past year.

  Summer observed the room Ethan had provided for him, her mouth turned down and her eyes firing up.

  “What?” he asked.

  “It’s nice,” she said. “But you really can’t go up and down those stairs. Had we known at the hospital, we wouldn’t have released you.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. This is an unfit living situation for someone in your condition.”

  “Are you going to report that?” Tanner’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to displace his friends—he wouldn’t. And he didn’t want them to feel bad either.

  “I have to, Tanner.”

  “I liked that third place the most,” he said. “I’ll buy it tomorrow.”

  “You can’t just buy a house in one day.”

  Tanner frowned. He didn’t actually know what it took to buy a house. “What about an apartment then? There’s got to be something open for immediate occupancy.”

  “I’ll look when I get home. Because Doctor Brady won’t like this.” She faced him. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make trouble.”

  He grinned. “Yes, you are. You’re a troublemaker.” His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid around her waist. She leaned slightly into him, barely putting any pressure or weight on his injured ribs. She took a deep breath of him, which caused a rush of satisfaction to pour through him. All too soon, and before he could kiss her, she stepped out of his embrace. “I’ll call you later, okay? I need a plan for Doctor Brady.”

  “Okay.” He watched her go, pure exhaustion filling him as soon as she disappeared upstairs.

  She called but he was asleep. When he woke near ten o’clock, he didn’t dare return her call. She said she’d be up for work by five, and he didn’t want to cause her to lose sleep. She’d found him an apartment—had even gone so far as to call the landlord and line up a showing for tomorrow afternoon. Summer thought he’d like it, and she’d texted him a link.

  The pictures looked great. New paint, new carpet, new countertops. A one-bedroom place on the first floor of an apartment building near downtown. It was for rent right now, but he noticed the rent-to-own label near the bottom of the listing.

  He slept a lot the next day but managed to get his physical therapy done before Summer arrived. They looked at the apartment, and he put a deposit and the first month’s rent down on it. He could move in that night if he wanted to.

  As he slid into the booth at the diner, he exhaled heavily. “There’s just one more problem,” he said to Summer as she picked up her menu.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t actually have a bed, or a couch, or anything to put in that apartment.”

  She met his eye with a glint of excitement in hers. “Are you saying you need to go shopping? Because I happen to be a professional shopper.”

  “You also happen to have a tiring, full-time job.” He ordered a soda and a plate of nachos when the waitress stopped by. Summer opted for water and an extra plate so she could share his nachos.

  “Tomorrow is my day off.” She leaned her elbows on the table and leaned into them. “So I can get you a bed, a couch, a kitchen table, anything you want.”

  “I don’t want any of it.”

  She flinched at his words, and he realized how they sounded. “I just mean I don’t want you to have to deal with it.”

  She relaxed and extended her hands across the table for him to take. “I don’t mind.”

  “It doesn’t feel like something my girlfriend would do, and yet I hate that you’re not my girlfriend.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Not until that fifth date kiss.” He smirked at her and glanced up as the waitress approached. He released her hands to make room for the food, and he watched her for any signs of resistance to actually being his girlfriend.

  She ate for a few minutes, and he liked the fact that they could exist in silence and still be comfortable. She shattered that peace when she asked, “So you don’t count someone as your girlfriend until you kiss them?”

  He almost choked on a sharp edge of a tortilla chip. “Not usually.”

  “So what date is this?”

  “Number two,” he said, enjoying her discomfort a little bit too much. “And you’re the one who set the five-date rule, if you’ll remember.”

  “I still don’t see why I can’t buy your furniture for you.”

  He couldn’t quite figure it out in his head either. He took a few seconds to think, to take another drink, eat another nacho. “I don’t want you to do it because it’s your job.”

  “It is my job.”

  “But I don’t want it to be.”

  She frowned, trying to understand. He found her attractive, so attractive that she was genuinely attempting to understand his point of view.

  “It feels like a job for a girlfriend,” he explained. “Or a best friend.”

  She leaned back, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “And I’m neither.”

  “Yet,” he said quickly.

  She lifted her glass to her lips and drank. “So you don’t want me to do it?”

  He sighed, glad when the waitress arrived to take their dinner order. By the time she left, he’d ordered his thoughts. “I do want you to do it, yes. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because it’s your job.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Great.”

  Her lips twitched, but her expression remained serious. “All right, then. Great. Yeah.” Her face bloomed with a smile—his favorite smile, the one that carried such light and warmth. The smile that opened a window right into her soul. “So let’s talk color scheme.”

  Tanner groaned, the evening going downhill with just a few words.

  *

  The following Sunday, Tanner woke in his new apartment. His new bed the best Three Rivers had to offer. His new couch had been the perfect place to hold Summer as they watched a movie on date four. Date four, which was last night. Date four, which had been take-out at his place, with a movie after. She’d fallen asleep, and he’d held her against his side, listening to her breathe in and out, feeling her chest rise and fall against him, falling a little more for her.

  On Wednesday evening, he’d gone out to Three Rivers Ranch to see his horse, but he hadn’t been able to stay for long. Seeing Ethan and Brynn working with all those horses, smelling the hay and dirt and fresh air, watching the activity of the cowboys, the animals, the horses, and he just couldn’t. Grief overwhelmed him, and he’d retreated to the cab of Ethan’s truck after only a few minutes.

  Date three had happened on Thursday night. He’d asked her for something quiet they could do together, and she’d suggested a movie. He’d enjoyed the popcorn, the soda, the company. Oh, the company. Every minute he spent with Summer he fell a little more. It was a new and strange sensation, one he’d never truly experienced before. One he wasn’t even sure was happening for real. One that scared him into slowing down.

  He got out of bed and got ready for church. Summer was stopping by to pick him up, though he could walk there as part of his physical therapy. She’d claimed there was no way he could walk four blocks in the mid-July heat.

  “In Texas,” she’d emphasized, as if he’d never been to the south before. He’d smiled and said he’d love a
ride. What he really wanted was to be at her side. Hold her hand. Get to know more about her.

  He’d heard about her two older brothers, where she’d gone to nursing school, all about her history in Three Rivers. The only thing they hadn’t spent much time discussing was their past relationships.

  Tanner had stuck to his family, the death of his father, his rodeo career, his horses, and his childhood. That pretty much encapsulated his life—if he didn’t detail the women he’d dated over the past dozen years. He didn’t even want to remember them that much, and he couldn’t imagine telling someone as innocent and wonderful as Summer about them.

  “You’ll have to tell her eventually,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a necktie over his head. His mother had sent a box of clothes to Ethan’s, and another was on its way to his new apartment. He’d sent Summer with his credit card, and she’d gone all out. Bathroom towels, shower curtain, coffee maker, kitchen utensils, a big-screen television, the works. Various stores had been delivering goods for days, and she’d promised him last night that it wasn’t over yet.

  His phone sounded, and he saw Summer’s name flash on the screen. His heart leapt to the back of his throat for no reason he could name. That right there was something new that had never happened with another woman. He’d been excited to see some of them, sure. But never in this giddy, heart-galloping kind of way. Never in a way that made him smile before he even saw them. Never in a way that made him worry about what he might do or say to drive them away.

  Because, in the past, he’d always known he’d drive them away. He was Tanner Wolf, and women came to him, not the other way around. He didn’t sacrifice to be with anyone, not even his family. A pang of regret lanced through him. He’d felt it many times over the past year, and yet he hadn’t managed to give up the rodeo.

  As if he’d been hit with a freeze-ray, understanding streamed into his mind. He couldn’t give up the rodeo. Hadn’t been able to, though he’d felt guilty about leaving his aging mother alone in Colorado and he hadn’t yet met his new nephew.

  “Is that why I got hurt?” he asked his reflection, really directing the question to God. He hadn’t understood Ethan’s statement about being lucky to be here in Three Rivers. But maybe he did now. He was lucky to be so near to his friends when he needed them most. Suddenly, the very thought of returning to the circuit, even for team roping, tasted like poison.

  Meeting Summer Hamblin certainly had been the best thing that had happened to him since he’d tried to live a clean life.

  Are you coming? his phone flashed again. Another text from Summer. Do you need help?

  “Coming,” he dictated into the speaker, hit send, and pulled on his left boot. He could spend the sermon in introspection and he didn’t want to make her late because he couldn’t get outside his own head.

  8

  Summer snuggled into Tanner’s side as much as she dared. Number one, the church in Three Rivers was the second biggest hotbed of gossip. All the older ladies saw who came with whom and they discussed everything—and everyone—under the sun at the salon, the number one place for gossip.

  Number two, she didn’t want to put more pressure on Tanner’s ribs. He kept his hand on her bicep, kept her close, as Pastor Scott talked about forgiveness. Summer had heard countless lectures on forgiving others over the years, but the pastor wasn’t talking about that today. No, he was talking about forgiving oneself.

  Summer had a considerably harder time with that topic, and though the delectable smell of Tanner’s cologne and the heat of his touch threatened to steal her attention, she focused on the sermon.

  Not that she’d done anything terribly wrong in her life. Nothing she felt gut-wrenching guilt over. But she hadn’t fully addressed her issues with making smart decisions when it came to men. She’d been blaming herself for years about Drew’s wandering eye. If she were as pretty as Victoria. As funny as Victoria. As attentive to Drew’s needs as Victoria.

  She’d been angry and hurt at both of them, but somehow, through the lectures and sermons, she’d forgiven them. Herself? Not so much.

  Maybe that’s why you don’t go on second dates, she thought. Didn’t, she amended. Because she’d certainly been out with Tanner more than once. Four times, to be exact, and she was hoping tonight would count as number five so he’d finally kiss her.

  The thought of becoming his girlfriend, of kissing him, sent her into a tailspin. She liked him a lot. Enjoyed spending time with him, was interested in learning more about his life and who he was, what made him tick. Their conversations had been lively and without awkward silences. She had every right to be attracted to him. He was a cowboy with manners, after all.

  At the same time, she still didn’t trust herself to make a wise choice when it came to men. Maybe a relationship with Tanner was futile. Would he really stay in Three Rivers? Maybe his kindness and his willingness to share his life stories with her were all for show. Or maybe they weren’t. She wasn’t sure, and therein lay the problem.

  The sermon ended, and Tanner stood to sing the final hymn. He balanced his weight on his good leg, one hand gripping the pew in front of him for extra support. He had terrible pitch but sang right along as if he was in key. Summer grinned and kept her eyes on the hymnal so he wouldn’t realize she was amused by his bad singing.

  The song ended, but the chords hung in the rafters. Summer closed her eyes and listened to them, hoping for the whispers of angels to reverberate through the lingering notes. Peace filled her from head to sole, and she sighed with contentment.

  “Are we eating with your parents tonight?” Tanner asked, his warm hand claiming hers.

  “No, I thought we’d do something else.”

  “What’d you have in mind?”

  She glanced at him as he shuffled down the row and into the aisle. “You’ve been talking a lot about your horses. I’d like to meet one of them.”

  He’d been nodding to a family, but he froze. “My horses?”

  “You have one out at the ranch, don’t you?”

  His teeth clenched and his jaw jumped. “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

  “You suppose you do?” She tugged on his arm in an attempt to get him to look at her. “Why don’t you want to go out to the ranch?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

  She tilted her head and tried to read the tonalities in his voice. She couldn’t quite make them line up, but he wore the same look now that he had when he was trying to explain about why he did and didn’t want her to buy his furniture.

  “I think it’s exactly that you don’t want to,” she said.

  “It’s just that—” He exhaled and paused, letting several people stream past them toward the exit. “It’s just that the ranch, and my horses, and seeing all those cowboys reminds me of what I don’t have anymore.”

  Summer turned into him to make the aisle wider for Tim Barney as he approached in his wheelchair. “And what exactly don’t you have anymore?”

  Tanner waved his hand, an edge of unhappiness in his eyes Summer wanted to erase. “You know. Cowboy stuff.”

  She reached up and flicked the brim of his hat. “Seems like you have plenty of cowboy left in you. Cowboy.”

  He smiled, but it lacked the passion, the fire, the drive she’d come to expect from him. “I can’t drive out there.”

  “I have a car.”

  “I’ll have to call Brynn and see if we can pick up a key or something.”

  Summer held her head high and moved faster toward the exit. “I already have it.”

  Tanner emitted a sexy growl that coaxed a giggle from Summer’s throat. “Seems like it’s not really my choice then.”

  “Not really, no.” She danced out of his reach, a smile cemented in place. “Come on,” she said. “It’s beautiful country out there, and we can walk and talk and….” She lifted her eyebrows. “Be alone. It’ll be fun.”

  “Are we goin’ right now?”

  She feigned shock. “I’ll need to ch
ange first. I can’t wear these heels out on the ranch. I’d break my ankle, and well, you’re in no shape to carry me back if that happens.”

  “I would try,” he said, a smile finally forming on his face and crinkling those intoxicating eyes.

  “I know you would.” She linked her arm through his. “So I’ll change real quick and then you can, and then maybe we can grab a bucket of fried chicken and head out. Sort of a private picnic on the prairie.” She glanced down at his injured leg. “Will you be okay with the hard cast? You might get it off this week.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I like the private part of this proposal.”

  She did too, and she worked to calm the thundering of her heart. An hour later, she pulled into a spot in front of Brynn’s training facility. They wandered down the dusty aisles until they arrived outside a stall where a tall, black horse hung his head over the wall.

  “Hey, Gridiron.” He stroked the horse’s cheeks and down his neck. The horse pushed his nose into Tanner’s chest and snuffled. “I know, boy. I know. Sorry.” He whispered to the horse with reverence, as if Summer wasn’t present. She felt awe as she watched him with his horse, a bond there she hadn’t comprehended before.

  “So this is Summer.” Tanner stepped back to allow Summer to move to his side. “She’s a skittish thing. Works with sick people and not animals. Can you believe that?”

  Gridiron tossed his head like the idea of nursing was absolutely ludicrous. Summer reached out and stroked her hand down his nose. “Hey, boy.”

  They fed him an apple and Tanner turned to her. “So you’ve met him. And I’m starving.”

  “Okay, picnic then. You get to carry the blanket. I’ll bring the food.” They returned to her car and gathered everything before Tanner set his feet west, away from the barns, the dual homesteads, the entire ranch. Summer let him, because it seemed like there were phantoms in the horse stalls, ghosts in the barns, apparitions around the ranch she didn’t understand.