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

by Isaacson, Liz

  “The wind says things out here, doesn’t it?” She turned her face into the breeze and closed her eyes. “My granddaddy used to tell me they were angels, taking notes of all I did and whispering to me to do better.”

  She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I liked thinking I had angels around me, especially when he told me he would be one of them once he died.”

  “Were you close to your grandparents?”

  “Yeah, they lived right next door to us. You?”

  “Only my dad’s parents. My mom grew up in Maine, and we never went there. Hardly knew them.”

  They reached a stand of trees, and Summer took the blanket from Tanner and spread it on the ground. She knelt on one corner and put the food in the middle. It took Tanner several seconds to lower himself to the ground, and he groaned when he did. “I might be sleepin’ here tonight,” he said. “Not sure I’ll be able to get up.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “I weigh three times what you do.”

  “Three times?” She scoffed. “I think your muscles have gone to your head.” She reached for a container of mashed potatoes, but Tanner swept her hand up in his, bringing her fingers to his lips.

  “I think this is date number five,” he murmured. “Isn’t it?”

  According to Belinda, it was actually number thirteen, but Summer didn’t tell Tanner that. She simply eased into his arms, going slow so he could adjust into a comfortable position. He cradled her close, the admiration and desire evident in his expression.

  “Well?” he asked. “Is it?”

  “It is,” she confirmed.

  “Thank goodness.” Tanner leaned down and captured her lips with his. He kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before. His touch held passion yet restraint. Excitement yet patience. “I’ve been dyin’ to do that,” he whispered, his smile curving against her lips. He kissed her again, this time drawing her deeper, exploring longer, leaving her dizzy when he finally pulled away.

  “Worth dyin’ for?” she asked in a timid tone, the taste of his mouth still in hers. Tanner had a special way of making her feel beautiful, something she’d never really felt before. He told her she was beautiful every time he saw her—and she was starting to believe it.

  “Definitely.” He touched his lips to her neck, her jaw, and finally her lips again. She could kiss this man all day and all night and never grow weary of it. His feelings streamed from him, and she released hers too.

  “I’m falling for you,” he whispered against her earlobe before touching his lips there.

  She gripped his shoulders tighter and brought her eyes level with his. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay.” He searched her expression. “Is it okay with you?”

  She grinned, nodded, and said, “I’m falling for you too. And you know what? My friend says this is actually our thirteenth date.” She giggled. “But she’s been counting me walking with you over to your physical therapy appointments and stuff like that.”

  “Lucky number thirteen,” he murmured before kissing her again.

  9

  Tanner couldn’t believe the difference between kissing Summer and kissing the other women he had. But there was a marked difference. This relationship felt real—something none of his others had.

  “Summer,” he murmured sleepily. They’d eaten and kissed some more. Now they lay in each other’s arms, the summer breeze drifting lazily over them, keeping them cool enough.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve been thinking about something.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  That got her attention and she lifted her head to look at him. “What is it?”

  “Well, my mom is getting older. I only have one brother, and he just had his third son. I haven’t even met the baby yet.”

  She watched him, those compassionate eyes waiting. He sighed and gazed into the sky so he could say his next words. “I know I said I was going to stay in Three Rivers, but I think I need to return to Colorado Springs.” He turned his eyes on her so he could see her reaction.

  She blinked and opened her mouth to say something. Nothing came out.

  “Not right away,” he added. “I committed to the eight weeks of homecare. I’m going to do that. But when the doctor says I can travel, I’m going to have to get back up to Colorado Springs.” His voice drifted quieter with each word. “I have a house there. My brother and his family live there. My mom needs help from time to time.”

  The sky seemed full of golden light, and he appreciated it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stopped to appreciate nature. He was busy, traveling, riding, roping, winning.

  “I think maybe God allowed me to get injured so I’d slow down,” he said, each word weighed and measured before he spoke it. “So I could be part of my family’s life. So I wouldn’t miss too much time with them.” He stopped speaking, everything inside him, everything he’d been thinking about since that morning, finally out.

  He wanted her to say something, but she remained silent. She settled back into the crook of his arm, her head on his chest, but her body felt stiff next to his.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not my life.” She didn’t sound angry or upset. She didn’t sound non-committal either.

  Tanner wasn’t sure how to read her. “I—”

  “Maybe now isn’t a great time for us to be starting a relationship,” she said.

  “That isn’t what I meant.”

  She exhaled and sat up. He envied her for how easy it was. He couldn’t even take a deep breath. “My life is in Three Rivers,” she said. “I have a good job here. Friends. My parents.”

  “I know.” He tried to sit too, but his ribs protested. He lay back down, that beautiful sky above him in direct contrast to the conversation before him. “I’m not saying you have to move.”

  “Then there can’t be a relationship.” She shook her head, her honeyed curls bouncing against her shoulders. He couldn’t see her face as she set about cleaning up their picnic. “I’d like to get home. I have to work early in the morning.”

  “Summer,” he said.

  She twisted back to him. “I don’t understand. You know what? It’s okay. But this is why I don’t go on second dates.” She grabbed the bag of trash she’d collected in one hand, stood, and reached for the bucket of fried chicken. “Will you bring the blanket, please? I’ll see you at the car.”

  “Wait,” he called, but she didn’t slow or turn around. She wasn’t walking particularly fast, but seeing as Tanner wasn’t sure how he was even going to regain his feet, he’d never catch her. “What does this have to do with going on second dates?” he yelled.

  She acted like she hadn’t heard him. Maybe she hadn’t. Tanner rolled onto his side, and then his stomach, where he only stayed for a second before pushing himself onto his hands and one knee. Standing from there took effort and caused some pain, but he managed to get on his feet. He rested one palm against the tree trunk while he caught his breath.

  Foolishness flowed through him, hot and strong. What a terrible time to tell a woman he’d be leaving town in seven weeks. Why had he done that right after spending an afternoon kissing her? He cursed his stupidity as he folded the blanket.

  With every step back to the ranch road where she’d parked, he asked the Lord to help him set things right. Nothing came to mind, but Tanner wasn’t particularly well-versed in hearing the voice of the Lord, so he didn’t have much to go on when he arrived at Summer’s car.

  She wasn’t there, and his eyes flew around the ranch. There was Squire Ackerman’s homestead, with its sprawling, green lawn. Pete Marshall’s homestead faced it, with a much smaller lawn. The Courage Reins facility sported windows that gleamed in the sunlight. The parking lot was empty, but the ranch road that ran between the barns and the facility held lots of trucks.

  Brynn’s boa
rding stable seemed empty as well, and Tanner could only see a lone cowboy making his way from the chicken coops down the road. He disappeared from sight behind the Courage Reins building, leaving Tanner alone in the wilderness.

  He’d felt that way for a while. Traveling and performing had him constantly surrounded by people yet always by himself. He’d never been lonely until this year, and he’d felt even more secluded from society since his injury.

  The door to the boarding stable knocked against the frame, drawing his attention there. He tossed the blanket on the roof of the car and limped over to the swinging door and went inside the stable, knowing Summer had relocked it after they’d visited Gridiron. She had to be there.

  Sure enough, he saw her silhouette down the aisle by the horse. He approached slowly, his tongue thick in his mouth. “Summer,” he said. “I don’t know what to do with my life. God hasn’t told me that yet. It could be that I live here and just go to Colorado Springs often.”

  She turned her face toward him, but with the sunlight streaming in behind her, he couldn’t read her expression.

  “Please talk to me,” he said. Getting a woman to talk was usually not a problem. But he’d learned that everything with Summer was different, though he had known her to fill conversations with just her voice. “What does going on a second date have to do with this?”

  She shook her head, a strangled sound coming from her throat. It was part laugh and part sob. Tanner reached her and drew her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to share with you what I’d been thinking about. What I’d felt at church today.” He smoothed her hair down and pressed his lips to her temple. “I’m really sorry. It was stupid timing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Several seconds passed before she released her hold on his back and inched away. She looked up at him. “I’m glad you told me,” she said. “I want you to be comfortable telling me things. I just….” She shook her head and looked back at the horse. “I don’t go on second dates, because then I can’t have a relationship. And then I don’t have to feel like this when it ends.”

  “It doesn’t have to end,” Tanner said. “I’m just thinking out loud. I haven’t even spoken to my mother yet.” But Tanner knew she’d be thrilled to have him closer to home. “I don’t even know what I’d do for a job.”

  “You could train horses,” Summer said.

  “Yeah, sure.” Tanner loved working with horses, but the end goal—winning—had always kept his focus where it needed to be. Would training them for someone else be enough? He wasn’t sure. “And I can do that here or in Colorado Springs, or anywhere else I want.” He brushed his fingers down the side of her face. “Tell me I didn’t ruin everything.”

  The slightest curve bent her lips. She nudged his shoulder. “You didn’t ruin everything.”

  Relief spread through him like wildfire, consuming all his anxiety and fear. “I’m not very good at this dating thing,” he admitted. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

  She stepped out of his arms and laced her fingers through his. They took lazy steps toward the exit, every other one of his stuttered as he leaned into the crutch. “Surely you knew a lot of women on the rodeo circuit. You’re a big celebrity.”

  His throat turned dry. “Yeah,” he said. “There wasn’t a shortage of women. But I didn’t really date any of them.” He cleared his throat. “What about you? When was your last second date?” He couldn’t believe the cowboys in this town hadn’t snatched someone like Summer right up. She was the epitome of Southern beauty, Southern charm, Southern manners.

  “Uh, it’s been a while.”

  “Serious boyfriends before that?”

  “A couple.” She took a deep breath. “They’re the reason I instated the no second date rule. Every relationship I was in ended in disaster. Usually with my heart in pieces on the floor.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t want to get hurt like that again. So it was easier to just stop dating.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I can’t believe you didn’t have men asking.”

  “Believe it.”

  “I don’t. Surely you just told them no.”

  “All right, fine. I used my job as an excuse for why I couldn’t go out with them. Too busy. Although.” She paused in the doorway and pointed at him. “There were some that weren’t interested in going out with me again.”

  He growled and pressed her into the doorframe. “I can’t even fathom that.” He traced his lips down the side of her face, claiming her lips in the sweetest kiss he’d experienced in his life. “Maybe it was just my luck,” he whispered. “To meet you in the hospital, where you couldn’t make up an excuse not to see me.”

  “Maybe,” she said breathlessly before pulling his face closer for another kiss.

  *

  Tanner continued to wrestle with his decisions. He wasn’t sure what was right, what he wanted, what God wanted, or who to believe. He didn’t have a great track record of making decisions, so he sat back and waited for someone else to tell him what to do.

  But that wasn’t really working out either. He didn’t want to do what Ethan thought he should. Wasn’t interested in listening to his brother guilt him into doing something he didn’t truly want to do. And God was absolutely silent on the subject, though Tanner spent hours on his knees over the next couple of weeks.

  Frustrated at his lack of personal progress, he pushed himself physically. He improved immensely, and his appointment with Dr. Verdad proved it.

  “Your leg is healing nicely,” he said. “Even your ribs seem to be on the mend much faster than I thought they’d be. Any shortness of breath?” He pushed aside Tanner’s shirt to examine the bruises the bull had left behind.

  “Yeah, sure,” Tanner said. “Usually only when I’m walking though. During my physical therapy. Otherwise, it’s gotten way easier to breathe.”

  “The bruises are nearly gone.”

  “My mother sent me some lavender and tea tree oil for them. She’ll be thrilled to know it worked.” Tanner chuckled, and it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had previously. “I’ll be glad to stop rubbing myself down every night.”

  Dr. Verdad smiled with him, but Tanner thought it might have actually been a frown. He grinned to himself and made a note to tell Summer about the non-smile. She’d said her and one of her nursing friends weren’t sure if Dr. Verdad’s smiles could actually be categorized as such.

  “That cast can come off now, and we’ll put you in a walking brace.”

  Tanner’s hopes soared. “That’s great,” he said, keeping his voice even.

  “Let’s double your steps,” he said. “Who’s your homecare nurse?” He flipped some pages.

  “Summer Hamblin,” Tanner said. “She’s been coming regularly.”

  “Since you can’t drive, and she works at the hospital full-time, it might be tricky to get you over here.”

  “I can manage. My apartment’s only a few blocks from here. I don’t need to drive.”

  Dr. Verdad flipped through some more pages. “Twice more per week. Let’s do Monday and Thursday.” He scribbled something on the chart and slapped it on the counter. “Anything else concerning you?”

  Tanner couldn’t think of anything, so the appointment ended. He couldn’t wait to get the cast off. Couldn’t wait to start living his life again. Couldn’t wait to see Summer.

  She sat on the lawn outside his apartment building when he came hobbling up. “Hey,” he said. “How long you been here?”

  “About five minutes.” She fanned herself with a folded piece of paper. “I’m about to melt.”

  He laughed and swept her into a kiss hello. “Well, c’mon in where there’s air conditioning.” He told her about his doctor’s appointment, and they walked a few blocks to a fast-casual place where he got a burrito and she ordered a taco salad.

  Tanner could see himself doing this every evening, and not just in the summer when the days stretched until ten p.m. But every day, e
very night. He wanted to see Summer, feel Summer, kiss Summer every evening when she got off work. He wanted to hear her laugh the way she did when he did his rodeo announcer impression. He wanted to walk back to their apartment, holding her hand.

  With perfect clarity, Tanner knew he’d fallen hard for Summer. He kissed her under the rising moon, pulling back when he could hardly breathe.

  “You okay?” she whispered.

  “Absolutely okay.”

  She gave him a peculiar look, tucked her hair behind her ear, and said she’d see him tomorrow.

  With his feelings for her clear to him, he worked on getting other areas of his life in order. He called his mother every week. He touched base with his brother.

  With only two weeks until his eight-week homecare would end—two weeks until he could potentially leave town—he called Ethan.

  “I think I’m ready,” he told the other cowboy. “When can I hitch a ride with you out to Courage Reins?”

  “You’re sure?” Ethan had been reminding Tanner about the therapeutic riding center every chance he got.

  Tanner took a deep breath and it only stretched his chest too far at the very end. “I’m sure. I can’t get on a horse yet. Doctor Verdad said just because I’m in a walking cast doesn’t mean I’m all the way healed. But I can walk next to a horse or something.”

  “I’ll talk to Pete tomorrow. Get something set up for you.”

  “Great.” Tanner hung up, feeling grateful and grounded for the first time since the rodeo.

  10

  Summer stared at her computer screen, the memory of Tanner’s last kiss on her mind and lingering on her lips. Something had changed. He’d never kissed her like that before. They hadn’t spoken much about his plans in recent weeks. He’d finally admitted he didn’t have any plans, that he didn’t know what to do.

  She’d been trying to live one day at a time, enjoy every moment with him. And she had. Problem was, if he chose to leave Three Rivers, he’d leave a hole in her life the size of a barge. Every night after she returned home, she questioned herself. Had she made another erroneous decision by getting involved with Tanner? Why couldn’t she just fall in love with a local cowboy? Or the deli owner. Or someone who didn’t have a completely separate life in a city hundreds of miles away.