by Amy Star
He’d been worried about the rain, and he hadn’t looked around.
“My car wasn’t there. At least, not for long. And it’s not my car anymore.”
He nearly groaned. He knew what was coming, but he had to ask.
“What happened to your car?”
“I traded it in. They took the car, and I drove the truck and trailer up here. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. I parked it on the side of the main road, even with the horse barn. I mean, it is my property, and there’s plenty of room to pass, but I still thought you would have noticed.”
“I didn’t notice,” he ground out.
“Oh, well, it’s there. It handles like a dream.”
“You drove it up the mountain yourself?”
She scowled at him.
“Why are you acting like that’s something? The road is wide and well-maintained. You can pass another car easily the whole way up without even getting close to the edge. You’re acting like we’re on that crazy highway in South America or something.”
“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just surprised,” he said, trying to regain control of the conversation as her hazel eyes flashed with indignation.
She was gorgeous when she was mad, even covered in mud and dirt from hours of work.
“I have to have a trailer,” she said, still sounding miffed. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, but it’s irresponsible not to have at least a stock trailer for evacuations.”
“That sounds reasonable. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off like that. I was just surprised. I guess I haven’t met many women like you.”
He smiled, expecting the words to stroke the ego he’d just bruised and smooth things over, but she wasn’t amused.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said, getting back onto the four-wheeler and starting the engine. “Maybe you should ask instead of assuming next time. You have a good evening. I have things to do.”
She turned sharply, hitting the accelerator and taking off like a shot. Before Mason could get out of the way, the tired flung mud and bits of grass his way, covering him with specks of wet earth and plants.
He stood there for a second, hands on his hips, watching her go. She never turned back, never saw that she’d covered him in filth right after his shower. She stood on the four-wheeler, her body moving with the motion of the machine as if she’d ridden one all her life. He shook his head, grumbling to himself and taking his towel off to wipe his face and chest. Clara Finch was a force to be reckoned with.
“You’re in over your head with this one,” he said to himself, watching her disappear into the woods, headed for home.
He went back into the house, dropping the filthy towel in the laundry room and using the shower off the mudroom to wash off. Clara Finch wasn’t going to go down easy, but oh, he was going to enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Clara pushed the huge barn door open, driving the four-wheeler into the cemented aisle, then backing it into one of the empty stalls and latching the door. A soft nicker caught her attention, followed by another gentle call from the opposite side of the small barn.
“I hear you,” she said, smiling as she opened the top half of the stall door so the gentle gelding could stick his head out and sniff her.
She did the same with the second stall, rubbing the mare’s face affectionately when she pushed her nose into Clara’s hand. She hadn’t mentioned the horses to Mason because he’d been agitated by the four-wheeler and by her improving the road. He had probably assumed she’d purchased the four-horse stock trailer to carry the four-wheeler by mistake, not realizing that she’d loaded the feed and four-wheeler in one section and the two horses on the other side of the divider. It turned out, with the right amount of money, she could have anything delivered, including two well-trained horses, enough feed for two months, and a new four-wheeler.
“I didn’t even have to touch my savings account,” she said to the gelding, which was the color of the sun with a black mane and tail.
The mare pushed against her again, vying for attention, her deep red coat so beautiful against her flaxen mane and tail.
She hadn’t been around horses since her last summer camp as a teen, but with the help of the internet, she remembered how to saddle and bridle a horse, and taking care of them wasn’t that hard. Once they settled into their new routine and the pastures dried out from the deluge, she would turn them loose to graze during the day, bringing them in at night when the predators that were known to roam the mountains would be out.
Even if Mason was the only bear in the area, there were sure to be mountain lions and other animals that were a threat to the pair. The fence was practically impenetrable, but with the windows and top half of the stalls being barred, the barn was by far the safest place for them. She only needed one horse, but when she’d heard these two were for sale as a pair, she decided to take the leap. They would be happier together, which was better for them.
The previous owner had sent a sheet with them, explaining what they ate for each meal and everything else she needed to know. Carefully measuring, she dished up their grain in the deep rubber bowls she’d purchased at the feed store then carried them to each stall. She’d already filled the corner of their stalls with enough hay to keep them busy all night, but twice a day, they would need the grain to ensure they were getting everything they needed from the hay and from foraging in the pastures.
“Smells like new tires,” she said of the bowl, wrinkling her nose as she set the food down for the gelding first.
He dove right in.
“I guess it can’t be that bad if Sunshine loves it,” she laughed.
She gave the other bowl to the mare, who was already nodding her head up and down in excitement.
“I’m hurrying, Rain,” she said. “I’m still figuring all this out.”
“Figuring all what out,” a familiar voice said from just outside the barn. “Listen, I just want to apologize for my behavior earlier.”
He stopped, staring at Clara, who had turned with the rubber bucket still in her arms while the impatient mare started eating.
“What the hell?” he said, running his hand through his hair. “Where did you get horses?”
“Same place I got the four-wheeler, the trailer, and the truck.”
“You bought horses?”
“Just two. I thought it would be nice to ride around the mountain. Plus, I have two, so you can ride with me.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I mean, unless you’re afraid.”
He stared at her, clearly shocked. Smiling at him, she set Rain’s food down and motioned him over.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she asked, tilting her head up so she was looking into his eyes.
“They’re gorgeous, but what are you doing? Why would you even buy horses?”
“I’ve always wanted horses of my own, and now I have a place to put them. Do you like horses?”
“I do, but that’s not really the point.”
“What is the point?” she asked innocently.
Rain, already finished with her grain and bored with the hay, nudged Clara roughly to get her attention. Not expecting the sudden push from behind, Clara stumbled and fell forward.
She felt Mason’s arms wrap around her, stopping her fall and holding her close.
“Sorry about that,” she said, putting her hands on his chest to help her find her balance. “She’s a little pushy.”
“I see that,” he said, laughing softly. “I think you two are a good match.”
Clara shook her head, but she couldn’t help smiling.
“You’re right. We’re both a little stubborn, but I actually thought she’d be more your speed.”
“I’m not riding a horse.”
“Scared?”
“No. I don’t have time.”
“You have time to shower twice in one day,” she quipped, laughing at her own joke. “I’m actually sorry about that. I didn’t think about t
he mud until it was too late, and well, you pissed me off. You’re kind of bossy and a little difficult to deal with at times. I should have turned around and apologized instead of laughing.”
“You laughed?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
They were close, a little too close for Clara’s comfort. She could smell his body wash, and his own unique scent, fresh from the shower after she’d sprayed him with mud. His hair was dry now, and he was wearing clothes, but he hadn’t been out of the shower long, and he’d come directly to her house to apologize.
She felt a little guilty for laughing.
“I did. Not to your face, of course. But to myself. Because I accomplished so much today, and you acted like I messed everything up. I’m having a hard time getting a read on you, Mason Jones, and I’m starting to think you don’t want me here.”
Your move, tough guy, she thought triumphantly.
She could tell her words startled him, but he didn’t back down.
“You’re right,” he said, his hand still on her arm somehow. “When you first came here, I didn’t want you here. I had plans, and you being here threw those plans out of whack. But now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I feel badly for being so rude to you. You have every bit as much right to be here as I do, and I’m really sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I was hoping I could make it up to you.”
She could feel the truth behind his words, but there was something more. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and that bothered her. But he was being honest when he said that he hadn’t wanted her around and again when he admitted that he’d been rude. His revelation surprised her, but it was his hand on her arm and the unintended feeling the gesture caused that had her feeling tense.
Despite his claim that he didn’t have time, was he actually attracted to her? That was the missing link, and she was taken aback by that knowledge. You couldn’t fake attraction, no matter how hard you tried. Could the way he’d treated her from the start and his grumpy behavior since be because he was fighting his attraction?
“Make it up to me how?” she asked.
“Dinner, at my place?”
“You cook?” she teased.
“I do,” he said with a smile.
“I’m surprised, but alright.”
“Alright?” he said wryly. “Not the most enthusiastic ‘yes’ I’ve ever heard, but I guess I deserve that.”
She smiled.
“I’m sorry. Yes, yes, I will have dinner with you. Looking forward to it.”
“That’s more like it,” he said. “I’ll see you in an hour?”
“Sounds good,” she said.
She waited, giving him a chance to say whatever was on his mind. When he said nothing, she winked at him knowingly then grabbed a brand-new horse brush out of the gleaming bucket she’d just bought and started brushing Rain’s neck. She didn’t have to look over her shoulder to know that Mason was still standing there, amused by her reaction. Yes, she wanted to have dinner with him. But it was obvious that he was used to women falling all over themselves for a chance to spend time with him.
Not that she blamed them; he was handsome and rich. But Clara wasn’t that type of woman, and she wasn’t about to stroke his ego by letting on how happy she was that he’d invited her to dinner. Maybe it was a fresh start for them and a way for them to figure out how to coexist peacefully on the mountain together and even enjoy each other from time to time. She didn’t want to appear too eager or admit how being close to him made her feel a little unbalanced.
There were some things she preferred to keep to herself.
After getting both sides of Rain’s neck, she gently pushed the mare back so she could secure the heavy bars that let the air flow while still protecting them from critters. She could feel Mason’s eyes on her, his hunger nearly pulsating from his body as he watched her. Back still turned to him, she smiled and looked over her shoulder.
“Dinner isn’t going to cook itself,” she teased. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done to help you finish up.”
He chuckled and shook his head.
“You are something else,” he muttered then shook his head again and left.
She watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner, admiring the way he moved as he did, then she turned back to Sunshine and rested her cheek on the horse’s neck while she brushed.
“Man, he’s gorgeous,” she said to the horse, which nickered at her softly.
She patted Sunshine on the neck and eased the top door closed.
“I’ll see you two in the morning,” she said, closing the outer door to the barn and making sure it was secure.
She decided to take the four-wheeler up to the house so she could ride it to Mason’s house. She didn’t mind walking there, but it would be dark before she left, and the four-wheeler was the fastest and safest way to travel in the dark. The bright headlamps and the built-in horn would help deter any animal not charmed by her presence, keeping her as safe as possible in the dark, wild woods.
She hurried up the path to the cabin, head spinning with plans to make the winter tolerable. On the mountain, the first snowfall would come long before winter, and she only had the end of spring and all of summer to prepare. Once fall hit, they would be cut off from the outside world for weeks at a time, and she needed to be prepared. She was already keeping track of how much hay and grain the horses went through every day so she could figure out how much they would need to last them all winter.
“Now, I just need to convince Mason he wants to help me stack all that hay in the lofts,” she laughed to herself, grabbing a towel and heading into the small bathroom off the master bedroom.
She took her time in the shower, enjoying the feel of the warm water on her skin, washing away the mud and the aches of the day. After working from sunup until just before sunset, Clara was ready to unwind and enjoy herself. Talking to herself got old, and if being neighbors was going to work, she was going to have to get to know Mason better.
“Maybe, he’ll share his secret,” she laughed, turning off the shower and wrapping a towel around her.
Fat chance, she thought. Mason wasn’t going to tell her unless he had to. She didn’t have to know him long to know that he preferred to keep his personal life private.
“Some people would rather build a wall than a bridge,” she heard her grandmother say, as she had so many times.
Clara spun, looking around the room. Even though she knew her grandmother was long gone, her voice had sounded so real. It was as if she was right there with Clara in the tiny bathroom. But she knew it wasn’t real, and the pain of her grandmother’s death washed over her as violently as it had when Coral Finch had taken her last breath.
Clara bit back tears, forcing herself to focus on Mason and their impending dinner date. It was a night to look toward the future, not the past. Her life was so different than it was just a week before, and now that everything was going better. She had a lot to look forward to; in just a few short days, she’d found her groove. The city and the life she’d had there felt so distant, it was like she’d imagined them. She was right where she was meant to be; she just knew it.
She took a deep breath, letting it out and closing her eyes. You’ve got this, she thought. The universe wants you to be happy, and this is what your happy looks like.
She took a few more moments to center herself, then she opened her eyes and looked at her reflection in the old mirror. The silver was showing around the edges, and the middle had a weird, double-exposure quality to it. She ignored it while she brushed her long, blonde hair out, frowning at the pastel streaks that were already in need of a touch up. That was one thing she couldn’t get done on the mountain, and she wasn’t sure if the woman who ran a salon out of her home in Little Hope could maintain the colors the way her salon in Seattle had.
Pursing her lips together, she regarded the inch of each strand that lacked color.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, but she couldn’t le
t it go.
No matter how she styled her hair, her pale blonde roots would show at the base of each of the sporadic streaks that accented her hair.
Blowing air up and out so that it blew her bangs off her forehead, her shoulders slumped and she considered her options. Tomorrow, she would go to Keri’s Salon and ask about touchups. If Keri couldn’t do it, she would have to come up with another plan.
Satisfied for now, she finished getting dressed, strapping on a pair of brown sandals and tucking her hair behind her ears. She was as ready as she was going to get, and her stomach was starting to growl.
She checked her watch and realized that it had been almost forty-five minutes since Mason had left her in the barn. She had fifteen minutes to get over to his house, which was plenty of time on the four-wheeler.
She thought about grabbing her purse then thought better of it. There was no reason for her to take it; it wasn’t like she needed anything out of it. Empty handed, she headed for the door, the hard soles of her sandals clicking on the wood floors.
Movement on the side table near the door caught her eye.
“That’s not where I left you,” she said to the book, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head. “I am not casting a love spell on him.”
The book didn’t budge; already open to a specific page, an eerie gold light was highlighting a certain spell.
Exasperated, she walked up to the book, looked the spell over, then shook her head again.
“My hair is fine,” she said. “Wait, why am I telling that to a book?”
Feeling foolish, she grabbed the book in her arms, but the pages wouldn’t close and the book felt like it weighed fifty times what it normally did.
“Stop it. I don’t have time for this.”
The book flew out of her hands and slammed itself back onto the table top with a loud bang. She took a deep, angry breath, letting it out in a huff and grabbing the book again.
“I’m not playing this game with you.”
This time, the book got so heavy that Clara nearly buckled under the weight of it. She pulled upward, and suddenly, the book was light as air. The force of her tugging pulled the book up too fast, slapping her in the face and knocking her backward. She sat down hard, scowling at the book, which landed on her lap, still opened to the same page.