“Yes and no. Some things showed up a few days later in a field or near the property where the item was taken. Initially Noah thought someone might be messing with him.”
“How could anyone take a trailer that size from the Sundance without being seen.”
“It was the first theft, and it happened at night. We’d officially opened for guests a couple weeks earlier, so we were busy and not paying attention.” She really did like him with the black Stetson. He looked so damn sexy with the brim pulled low that she shivered. “Avery Phelps, along with a few others, were not happy with us bringing in tourists and tried to blame the Sundance for the thefts.”
“Figures. I bet Wallace was one of the bellyachers.”
She didn’t respond, unwilling to enter a discussion about her brothers’ suspicion Matt’s father was somehow involved. “I think Noah came back because his sisters left and his parents were here alone, but now that he has a girlfriend in New York, I don’t know how that will play out. He was gone a lot through the holidays.”
“New York?” Matt’s brows went up. If he’d noticed she’d purposely changed the subject, he didn’t let on. “How did that happen?”
“The evil McAllisters and their dude ranch happened.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “Another guest? First Cole, then Jesse and then Noah. You’re an evil woman.”
“Wrong order. Noah bit the dust before Jesse. Technically Alana never really made it to guest status. He headed her off in town. And excuse me, but I take no responsibility, so don’t ‘evil woman’ me.” She shifted, angling more toward him, then laid her cheek against the seat back so she could stare at him. “Although I do take credit for getting my brothers off their butts and into serious relationships.”
He lifted a brow at her in amusement.
“What? Somebody better get moving and give my mom a few grandbabies.”
“So you elected Cole and Jesse.”
“Trace, married? Come on.”
“And you?”
The idea startled a laugh out of her. “I was holding out to be Mrs. Gunderson.” It was a joke, of course, though not one she would’ve made had she stopped to think.
Matt narrowed his focus on the road. He actually seemed afraid to look at her.
“I was kidding, Matt. Jeez, you know how girls are when they’re sixteen.” She decided she was better off not staring at him, and swung her knees front and center.
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Quit being ornery.”
“Hell, I’ve never figured out a female yet.”
She bit her lip. “You know I had a crush on you and like a typical teenage girl, I daydreamed about getting married and having kids and all that nonsense.” She waited for a reaction, which he stubbornly refused to give. “Don’t worry,” she said, sighing. “That was ten years ago. Now all I want is your body.”
He actually blushed. “Dammit, Rachel.” Chuckling, he rubbed the back of his neck, something he’d always done when he was caught off guard. “You’re still a handful.”
“Um...” She was about to say something else she really shouldn’t.
“Yes?” He slid a look over her mouth, then lower to her breasts.
He sure had recovered quickly, and now she was the one squeezing her thighs together, praying her cheeks were just warm and not pink. God, she hoped the cabin was accessible. It would be dusty and stuffy but as long as it had a roof and walls to give them privacy, they could air out the sucker, light a fire, and she’d be happy.
They veered left then started to climb. It had been ages since she’d been anywhere near Weaver Ridge but she knew they were close. Unfortunately, there was considerably more snow up here than around the Sundance. Not horrible for February, but still. “What do you think, ten minutes away?”
“If memory serves.” He nodded slowly, clearly not thinking about their ETA. “Might as well get it over with.” The same edginess in his voice she’d noticed earlier made her sit straighter. “I had a long talk with Lucy yesterday. Wallace is dying.”
“Matt, I’m sorry.”
He snorted. “You think I give a shit?”
“Yes, he’s still your father, and you’re not like him. You’re human.” She drew in a harsh breath. Second time today she’d spoken without thinking. “That last part...completely uncalled for. I apologize.”
Reaching over, he laid a hand on her thigh. “Hey, you know better than anyone how much I hated the bastard. All the crappy stuff he did and said, I eventually let roll off my back. But the way he treated my mother...”
She pressed her palm to the back of his much-larger hand. His tan couldn’t hide the small scars that came from working a ranch and riding bulls. “Do you still hate him?”
He hesitated, returning his hand to the steering wheel. “No. I don’t feel anything.”
Though unconvinced that was true, Rachel kept her opinion to herself. “Have you told Nikki?”
“Not yet.”
“How do you think she’ll take it?”
“Can’t say. We knew he was either sick or headed for a drunk tank before the trip.” He steered them onto a gravel road covered with snow, and shifted gears. “Even then, she ran hot and cold about coming.”
“How did you find her?”
“My mom.”
Rachel gasped. “She knew? For how long?”
“Twenty years, maybe.”
“Oh, God.”
“Yep. Never said a word to Wallace.”
“But she told you.”
“Only because she was dying. Took me another year to get over it and look up Nikki.” He glanced at her, his mouth drawn tight. “Not proud of the year-long sulk, by the way.”
“Jeez, your mother had just passed away. Cut yourself a break.”
He smiled a little. “I made her a promise to prove Nikki is a Gunderson and included in Wallace’s estate. But keep that between us. Nikki doesn’t know and she’d be pissed. She doesn’t want anything from him other than closure. I’d like to see her eventually take over the Lone Wolf.”
Rachel sure hadn’t seen that coming. Nor did she see Nikki living here. “Does that mean you’re through with ranching?”
“Nope. I’ve got money set aside for a spread. I can’t rodeo forever. As a matter of fact, I don’t see myself doing it too much longer.”
“But you’re popular and winning titles like crazy. Frankly, I don’t understand why you’re not up to your neck in endorsement contracts.”
“Don’t want ’em.”
Rachel let out a short laugh that ended in a sigh. She was a little jealous of his earning power. Not for herself, but for the Sundance. Her family would be worry-free with the kind of money he could make in two months. “You can’t find one product you agree with?”
“Guess I’m not the mugging-for-the-camera type. That’s what the companies all want. If I had kids to put through college maybe I’d give in and invest the money for them.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I haven’t been too stupid about saving. I might be a hot ticket now, but the fame will dry up the day I leave that chute for the last time. So will the money.”
She didn’t agree. He could hang on to endorsements for quite a while. Rodeo fans were loyal, and from what she’d seen online, everybody in that world loved him. On top of that, he was good-looking. What she really wondered was why he seemed willing to give up the lifestyle.
A horrible thought occurred to her. “Did you lie yesterday when I asked if you were all right? Are you hurt?”
“What?” He frowned at her, then turned back to the gravel road. The snow was deeper out here, still dripping from spruce branches and climbing a foot up the aspens. “No.”
“Maybe we should turn around,” she said, hearing the grind of snow in the wheel wells while the truck struggled for traction.
“We’re okay. It’s not far. Why did you ask if I was hurt? Is that what the media is saying?”
“No, but most guys in your position would be dreading the
day they had to leave the circuit. When they do, isn’t it mainly because of age or injury?”
“Usually. I want to raise rodeo stock. Might as well get a ranch going while I’m young and healthy enough to enjoy it.”
She smiled. Matt was still the same in many ways. Sensible, sensitive, even-tempered, an all-around good guy. He hadn’t let fame or money go to his head. Or let his troubled relationship with his father make him bitter. She was really curious about why he wouldn’t take over the Lone Wolf, since he wanted to raise livestock. But she wouldn’t ask now. Driving was tricky and she needed to let him concentrate.
The one thing that had gotten her a bit down was his wanting Nikki to run the operation. Although Rachel couldn’t see it, she had nothing against his sister taking over. It was more personal. Rachel had to face the fact that Matt had only wanted to stick around to give Nikki a chance to assimilate. It had nothing to do with Rachel.
“You worried about my driving?” he asked. “I can still handle snow.”
She shook her head. “I was just thinking...”
“Oh, man. You used to get me in trouble by ‘just thinking.’”
“Hey...who kidnapped who this morning?” Catching a glimpse of the cabin, she straightened. The area didn’t look too bad. Yes, lots of snow, but much of it had blown past the clearing. “When was the last time you were here?”
“After Mom’s funeral. I have two generations of great-grandparents buried in the back.... I came by to tell them I was sorry she was put in the same cemetery as the Gundersons and not with them.” His mouth twisted in a self-conscious smile. “Funny how you do weird crap after someone close to you dies.”
“I know.” She laid a hand on his thigh, and he picked it up and kissed her palm.
“Yeah, you do.”
The truck bumped over a rock that had him pulling his hand back to control the wheel. They both knew what it felt like to lose a beloved parent. Matt had been there for her when she was fourteen and her father died of cancer. Now that she thought about it, their relationship had begun the day Matt had found her angry and crying in Elk Valley a week after her dad’s funeral.
She’d swiped Cole’s rifle, believing that target practice would help ease her pent-up grief and rage at the unfairness of life. Without knowing where she was headed, she’d ridden her horse as if the devil himself were after her. She’d gotten off a shot at a tree branch when Matt appeared out of the woods. He was a senior, and she and her friends thought he was cute, but she hadn’t known him, not really. No one did. He’d always stuck to himself and gone straight home after school.
Remembering that day made her shudder. If she’d been aiming lower...if he hadn’t let her know he was there...
He stopped the truck, turned off the engine. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, crap.” She frowned at the front of the cabin. “Look at all the snow blocking the door.”
“Must’ve been windy up here last night.”
Shade from the towering pines didn’t help. The snow hadn’t had a chance to melt and had accumulated. “We won’t be able to get inside.”
“Maybe there’s a broken window.” He lifted the brim of his hat, squinting at the two-story log cabin. “When I was a kid I thought the place was gigantic, but it can’t be more than two thousand square feet. Seems to be holding up well. You too cold to get out?”
“Pfft.” She waved a hand. “I’m a hearty Montana woman. You think a little snow is going to stop me?”
Grinning, he lifted the door handle. “I’ll remind you of that later.”
She beat him out of the truck but couldn’t compete in racing him to the cabin. She hadn’t exercised in a while and it showed. The snow was deeper than she’d imagined, swallowing her footfalls, making each step so heavy and awkward that she felt like a total klutz.
Trailing the path he left behind by a humbling distance, she fought her way to the cabin, simply happy to keep the huffing and puffing down to a minimum.
“Are you all right?”
Smiling sweetly, she said, “Peachy.”
He retraced his steps, meeting her partway, then scooped her into his arms.
Laughing, rather than taste the bitterness of her dissolving pride, she said. “This is just mean.”
“I’m being mean?”
She looped her arms around his neck, careful not to knock off his hat as he carried her to the cabin where he’d cleared away the snow. “I could’ve made it on my own.”
“Sweetheart, you will always make it on your own,” he said, a strange tone to his voice.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She wasn’t joking. He’d almost sounded disappointed.
“No, it’s not. You’ve always been strong and independent, and I’m glad you haven’t changed.” He smiled, but he seemed just a little sad. Maybe it wasn’t about her or them, but his father. “Grab my hat.”
She caught the back brim just as he lowered his head and gave her an open-mouth kiss that stole what scant breath she had left. His tongue slowly swept inside, touched hers, then continued its exploration. He was in no hurry, more intent on doing a thorough job than moving on. She clung to him, soaking up his seductive heat, smelling the faint scent of soap and clean male flesh and feeling herself slowly melt into him.
Finally, she dragged her mouth away because she really was out of breath. “You can put me down now.”
“I want to keep you right here.” He held her tighter to his chest. “For a week, a month.” He kissed her hair and quietly murmured, “Forever.”
This wasn’t real. Not his words or the way he cradled her as if he truly didn’t want to let go. It was the grief talking. He needed someone safe to hold on to, someone who would hold him. He could deny it all he wanted, but he was affected by the confirmation his father was terminal. Maybe a less-sensitive man could ignore the blow, but not Matt.
“Let’s find a way inside,” she said, massaging his scalp below the hat.
He drew back, his closed eyes opening in degrees and reflecting the blue of the sky. His heart beat fast and hard against the side of her breast. “We’ll get in.”
She traced a fingertip over his bottom lip. “Or maybe that’s asking for trouble.”
His smile was slow and so damn sexy that her insides quivered. “I’m counting on it,” he said, and carefully let her slide down his body.
Even through the barrier of their layered clothing, she felt his arousal pressed against her belly, felt tiny jolts of electricity along her spine. “I hate this.”
“What?” he asked, concern in his eyes as he gently arranged her hair away from her face.
“Me living at the Sundance, you staying at the Lone Wolf. The whole no-privacy issue stinks.”
“Ah. Been thinking about that myself.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Kalispell isn’t far.”
“We can’t. Not today. I’m helping decorate for the dance.” She sighed at the featherlike feel of his lips heating her skin.
“No, not today. I have to talk to Nikki about Wallace. What about tonight after you’re done? Or tomorrow after the dance?”
“Definite possibilities.”
He briefly kissed her. “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?” Hugging herself, trying to ward off the cold void he’d left, she watched him head in the direction of the truck. Was he getting condoms?
Then she saw that he was only trying to avoid a large snowdrift and circle around to the back of the cabin. The wind had been blowing from the west so the rear was much clearer and more accessible. He was probably searching for that broken window.
She glanced around at the barren trees and pines in varying shades of green. Not the ideal spot for a ranch—too hilly—but the place would be beautiful with wildflowers and new leaves by mid-May. Such a shame the cabin was sitting vacant.
After what seemed like forever, Matt approached her from the other side so she knew he’d made it all the way around. Snow sat on his Stetson and shoulder
s, and he looked like a man who’d lost a small battle. Maybe it was just as well they couldn’t get inside. They’d already waited this long and she didn’t want their first time to be about him hiding from grief.
“Oh, well, we tried.” She dusted the snow off his shoulders. “There’s still Kalispell....”
He winked at her as he took her hand, leading her down the path he’d just made.
11
MATT PRESENTED THE OPEN window with a bow. “Did you really think I couldn’t get us inside? What little faith you have in me.” Nothing could be further from the truth. Rachel had been his rock, the persistent voice in his head telling him he could do anything he wanted, no matter how many times Wallace chipped away at his confidence.
She lifted up to brush her lips across his mouth. “You’re my hero.”
It was the other way around. But if he pointed it out, she’d only argue. He started to pull her in for a more satisfying kiss, but didn’t trust himself to stop. Knowing they were going to have some privacy was already getting him worked up. He gave her a quick hug, then searched the wood trim for splinters.
The cabin was well built with thick walls and insulated panes of glass. Matt was glad he hadn’t had to break in, but he suspected he might’ve warped the track while trying to loosen the jammed window. Easy enough to repair, and if not, he didn’t really give a crap. Especially when he turned back to Rachel shading her sparkling green eyes from the sun, her hair a brilliant auburn blaze tumbling over her shoulders. She looked beautiful. But she always did.
Stomping his foot, he made sure the snow was packed hard under his feet before he gave her a boost up to the window. He glanced down at his boots. His good Moraes boots. They weren’t trashed yet because the snow was dry and he kept shaking it off. But he’d had no business wearing them to come up here. This is what he got for being impulsive and tearing out of the house. No, for letting Wallace push his buttons.
“You ready?” he asked, interlocking his fingers.
Your'e Still the One Page 11