Her Rodeo Rancher

by M. K. Stelmack

  He registered Jack’s cargo shorts and sandals. “A bit overdressed, am I?”

  She patted his knee. “It’s adorable. But the only change room here is in the bow.” She assumed that his bag had a swimsuit in it. It had a change of clothes only.

  “Um, well, I don’t have swimming trunks.”

  She flipped open the next seat over. “Sure, you do.” She held up a brand-spanking-new pair, pickle green with pink flamingos. And some wraparound shades. “Time to saddle up, cowboy.”

  Fine, he’d dress the part. He took himself up to the hot and airy privacy of the bow. Jack puttered the boat out of the marina as Will wiggled out of his jeans. Jack kicked up the engine a notch. The bow rose up and the towel that Will had discreetly placed across his midsection slipped off.

  “Sorry, man,” Jack called, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

  Payback for the steak insult. Will never got into a piece of clothing faster. He pulled on his socks and running shoes. He looked like a farmer who’d shopped at a boater’s thrift shop.

  In the stern of the boat, Bridget was doing safety checks with her daughters.

  “Do you enter the water from the back of the boat when it’s moving?”

  “No.”

  “Do you enter the water without permission from Jack or me?”

  “No.”

  “Do you enter the water only when there is another adult who has volunteered to supervise you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are the consequences if you do not follow any of the rules?”

  “No stories and no desserts until next time we’re out on the lake.”

  Will thought of a punishment that he’d much prefer. “Wouldn’t you ban them from going on the water?”

  The Montgomery bunch looked at him as if he’d suggested diving into an empty pool. “We’re punishing them, not us,” Krista said. “We wouldn’t be able to go on the lake, either.”

  Clear of the shoreline with kayakers, canoeists and dapplers on their inflatables, Jack throttled up even more. Will’s stomach lurched with the surge in power. Definitely in deep water now. He slid a look at Krista, who was seated on the bow. With her head tilted back and her arms out wide to receive the wind and the spray, she was in her element. Bridget walked past him to stand beside Jack, her arm looped around his back. He raised his face and they kissed.

  For crying out loud, keep your eyes on the ro—lake.

  When they’d reached what seemed to Will the point farthest from any shore, where shiny blue spread in all deathly directions, Jack cut the engine. Will’s insides sloshed to the same flat calmness as the water.

  Krista peeled off her shirt and shorts, kicked off her sandals and splash!—had transformed into a seal. The girls and Bridget followed. All screamed at the cold temperatures but made no move to return to the boat.

  “I’ll stay in, if you want to join them,” Will said quickly to Jack.

  “Do you have a boater’s license? Only those with one can be alone in a powered boat while it’s in the water.”

  “No, didn’t think of that,” Will mumbled.

  “You can go in,” Jack told Will. “I’ll stay here and switch out with Bridge in a bit.”

  “Uh, I’m good.”

  Jack gave a friendly smile. “You don’t know how to swim.”

  “Not comfortably.”

  Krista bobbed up beside the boat. “Come in, Will.”

  Why had he ever thought he could fake this? “Thing is, I’m not very good in the water.”

  Her blond hair slicked down from an underwater glide, Krista and Jack laughed together. “Kinda figured that out from the speed you put on the lifejacket.”

  He’d not fooled anybody, especially the one he’d wanted to convince.

  “Don’t worry, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Krista said. “No one here is going to notice if you have a life jacket on. Your reputation is intact.”

  He wanted his life intact. Isabella and Sofia swam and dunked freely in the water. Krista grinned up at him. “It’s as easy as riding a horse.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  He stood at the back of the boat, toes curled and heart pounding, like an overgrown four-year-old on the edge of a swimming pool.

  Jack came up beside him, his back to the girls in the water so only Will heard what he said next. “Can’t be the first time you did something that scared you.”

  “If there was, I can’t remember it,” Will said as quietly.

  “Try this, then. Krista’s watching.”

  Krista with her laughing eyes, inviting him to join her world, her family. But his muscles had seized.

  “Push me,” he told Jack through a clenched jaw.

  “You sure?”

  Will gave a quick nod. And just like that, Jack slipped, wobbled and slammed into Will, who toppled into water cold enough to inflict freezer burn.

  “Sorry,” Jack called from the boat where he’d righted himself.

  “No worries,” Will said. “You did me a favor, actually.”

  “You don’t have to wear your life jacket,” Isabella said, “since you’re an adult.”

  “I want to,” Will said. “I...I’m not a great swimmer.”

  “You should’ve said something,” Krista admonished.

  “And wreck the fun for you all?”

  “It does make me feel better about flubbing up the horse riding.” She dove under water and tweaked his toes, popping up beside him. “A whole lot better.”

  Will felt like a discarded cork, bobbing around in the lake, trying to stay afloat. “I was born with a fear of water.”

  Krista twirled otter-like, around him. “I can’t fathom that. I’ve been swimming for as long as I can remember. Mom and Dad were always traveling, and our days seemed to consistently end up at some kind of water—lake, river, ocean. I think it was a cheap way to bathe us. Did I mention they were born hippies?”

  She didn’t have to. His mother had brought up the subject of Deidre “going off with some guy in a van that looked painted by a kid.”

  “Like I don’t remember learning how to ride a horse,” Will said.

  “Yep,” Krista said. “We’re even.”

  They weren’t. Horses and horse riding were his existence. Water was recreation for her. He couldn’t imagine being with someone who wasn’t comfortable around horses. He’d have to get her back in the saddle.

  After lunch, out came the water skis. When would he wake from this sunny nightmare? His shoulder emitted a long moan of protest which Krista seemed to hear. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  She was giving him a rock solid out. But he’d also give up a perfect opportunity.

  “I do this, and you get back on a horse. Deal?”

  Her smile faltered. “I already did my part. You need to catch up to me.”

  “How many times do I have to ride water before you consider it even?”

  She rolled her eyes. “This is stupid. You’re risking further injury to your shoulder to impress me, and you promised you wouldn’t.”

  “My shoulder is fine. If it hurts, I’ll do it one-handed.”

  “As if.”

  He waited.

  “Three, okay? Do it three times and we’re even.”

  “You’re on. Tell me what to do.”

  “Bend your knees. No more. Closer to your chest. Not so much.” She deliberately echoed his choppy, conflicting instructions from when she was on Molly.

  “And when you start coming up, don’t stand straight up right away, keep your knees bent.”

  “Right.”

  “Say ‘go’ when you’re ready.”

  “Krista,” he said, “I think I’ve got a leech on my neck. Can you check?”

  Revulsion and concern
warred on her face as she leaned close. He snatched a kiss. “Sorry, I was wrong.” Jack waited for his signal at the helm. “Go!”

  If there was anything he’d learned from bronc riding, it was how to hold on for the money. He rose up and bumped along in the boat’s wake. He kept his knees bent, as if sitting in a chair. Still, this was actual waterskiing. As he straightened from his crouch, a wave—and no ordinary wave but a freak tsunami of one—rode underneath his skis and threw him.

  His entire waterskiing experience might’ve lasted for half a minute.

  Jack circled around. “You want to get back in the saddle?”

  He wanted to get out of the freezing cold lake and get his feet back on solid ground...or at least the semisolid surface of the boat.

  But if he didn’t keep at it, Krista would never get on top of another horse. She was slicing forward in a powerful front crawl through the water to retrieve the rope. He touched the clasps on his lifejacket. All in place.

  “I’m good.”

  But Krista didn’t hand him the rope. “All right, fine. We’re even. I can’t stand to see your shoulder yanked about.” She slapped the water when he opened his mouth. “Get into the boat. It’s my turn. Don’t even argue.”

  He didn’t.

  He flopped into the boat with all the grace of a walrus and watched Krista as she took off on the skis.

  She was good, really good. She rode the bumps like a pro and did a full turn.

  “Show-off,” Bridget grumbled from the seat across from him. She’d stood up straight and hadn’t fallen, either. “You had a bad experience in water, Will, or what?”

  “Nope. Just don’t like the feeling. I argued about it with my mom and she didn’t push it. Keith and Laura are good enough swimmers, but not as natural as you guys.”

  “Krista’s the best, hands down,” Bridget said. “Don’t tell her that, though. She does not need one more thing to lord over us.”

  “She’s rubbing it in because she had a hard go of it last time she was on a horse.”

  “Noticed the bruises myself,” Bridget said neutrally. “Lucky thing you put a helmet on her. She said a hoof clipped her on the side of the head.”

  Will felt as if the hoof had struck his chest. “She said nothing to me. I have my work cut out now to get her on a horse again.”

  Bridget leaned closer to Will. “I loathe her ex, as much as any big sister who watches her little sister get hurt. But I will say one thing for her, and it’s probably why Phillip is attacking her so viciously. She’s not afraid to walk away from a bad situation. And when she said she’s not riding ever again, I believe it. You’ll have to do more than change her mind. You’ll have to change her.”

  He took in the spectacle of Krista, the best-looking person on the lake, and his plan to get her on a horse dissolved. He was trying to change her, to expand her to include his life, but that meant stretching himself in ways he didn’t want to, either. So where did that leave them?

  Krista had been right all along. They weren’t meant to be together. But he couldn’t bear the thought of them being apart, either.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “HOLD IT THERE,” Alyssa said. Krista swore if she had to maintain her pose another second, she’d scream. But she dutifully kept her head angled to Will’s shoulder as they gazed adoringly at Austin on Will’s arm.

  “This might help my image,” Will said, “but it’s going to make Keith seem like an absentee father.”

  “My job is to make you look good,” Alyssa said. “No one’s thinking about Keith.”

  Alyssa certainly understood how to build an image. The “never give up on kids” message had gained traction to the point Phillip’s latest picture had reverted to his old cracks about their incompatibility. The dolls rode horses in a merry-go-round. Will-doll was seated properly, and Krista-doll was mounted backward. She was saying, “I think I’m doing something wrong.” And the Will-doll thought, “No more than usual.”

  When Alyssa had showed it to them, Will had not blown up as before. His expression had gone carefully neutral, almost polite. As if he secretly agreed with Phillip but didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Something had changed in Will since their outing on the lake nearly a week ago. He’d gone quiet. She’d been booked solid the past days, and he’d been cutting hay and baling, on top of working a three-year-old colt, so they’d not had a chance to see one another until now for this brief photo shoot before he headed back out to the field.

  Alyssa left. When Krista decided to corner Will about his moodiness, he got a text that made him growl. “Mom and Dad are running behind. They’ll be another couple of hours at least.” Will had once again pulled the short straw to cover for Keith with Austin until Janet and Dave returned from a bull sale. Meanwhile, Keith’s truck had broken down, and he was off on the side of a highway, waiting for a relief truck. He wouldn’t be home for hours.

  Which meant Will couldn’t get out to bale and there was rain forecasted for tomorrow. Apparently, you couldn’t bale wet hay or else it would plug the...the something on the baler. Forget about having a heart-to-heart. Will was too keyed up about the field work.

  “Look,” Krista said, “how about I take care of Austin? I know the routine. We play, have supper, play, bathe, bed. Janet will probably be home before long. All’s good.”

  “You’re sure?” Will appeared the most excited over anything she’d said all week.

  Her first experience with children of any kind was five-year-old Sofia eight months ago. They’d forged a lasting bond based on bling and trending hairstyles. Austin couldn’t form sentences, distinguish between edibles and poison, and climbed over what he couldn’t climb under. But she’d spent time around Austin, watched others care for him. And it was only for two hours. “Very sure.”

  He practically tossed Austin into her arms before beelining it out to the barnyard.

  Austin wiggled from her arms and charged for the living room steps. Krista gasped at the two steps but he flipped to his belly, bumped down and was back on his feet before she could reach him. The monkey was fast.

  And reckless. He almost beaned himself on cabinet handles, coffee table corners, wall edges. When he’d crawled onto the kitchen chair twice to use the pepper shaker as a noisemaker, she decided that Austin was better outside. She’d have to run to keep up with him but at least she didn’t have to worry about so many toddler traps.

  “You certainly have got the Claverley energy, buddy,” she said, setting him down in the yard. It was like releasing a fully primed robo-dog. He immediately set off for the barns. Zero chance she’d let Austin anywhere near an animal.

  Where was Clover to ride herd? Probably gone off to escort Will to the field. Krista implemented a Clover technique and got in his space to point him back to the house yard. Austin darted around her and plowed on. “Mutt!” She carried him up to the sandbox behind the house with its assortment of dump trucks and tractors. “There. How about you apprentice here before tackling the big ones?” Except the sight of the trucks and tractors reminded him of the real ones. “Tuck. Tactor.” And with the unerring instinct of a migratory bird, he headed once again to the barn.

  She had to retrieve him four times, both of their impatience mounting. No wonder Keith looked perpetually on edge. Of course, he could take Austin to the horsies. Every last single Claverley probably galloped with Austin tucked under their arm like a football.

  Nope. Kids were not her thing. Not to keep, anyway. And she didn’t have a future with Will unless kids were in it. And if there wasn’t a future, what was the point of pretending another day?

  Because she wanted him. Because, unlike with Phillip, she was too weak to let him go.

  “C’mon, monkey, let’s go have something to eat.” She picked him up and had to hold on tight as he squirmed for release. “What do you want? Strawberries? Ice cream?” />
  He quieted, listening. Her chatter was more than soothing babble to him. “Peas? Milk?” Wait, did he have allergies? Will hadn’t mentioned any, but that didn’t mean anything.

  She skimmed her contacts. As much as she didn’t want to, she settled on Janet. It was her kitchen, after all.

  “He doesn’t have any allergies,” Janet said, “but he is a picky eater. And he refuses to eat anything unless he puts it into his own mouth.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Krista said.

  “Surprised?”

  “At his early display of independence. He’s a Claverley, after all.”

  Janet ignored her and directed her to the roasted potatoes in the fridge, along with the cheese, blueberries—halve them!—strawberries—quarter them! She instructed Krista to only give him a bit on his tray at a time, otherwise he’ll wad it all in and choke. “And if you can’t manage anything else, there’s cereal in the pantry.”

  She could manage, thank you very much.

  She did, too. She managed to clean up every telltale sign of the cereal, and unless Austin pooped them out in perfect circles, she figured she was covered.

  Janet texted to say that the bull was finally loaded but they were still two hours away.

  No problem, Krista said. She could do the play-bathe-bed routine. After a play made easier by Clover’s support, she filled the tub up until Austin’s belly was covered. Austin’s face began to pucker in distress.

  “Oh no, you’re not. Water is fun. You’re not going to end up like your scaredy-cat uncle.” She spied a bottle of bubble bath on the edge of the tub and squirted in a generous dollop, shaking it up with her hand. Bubbles were not a normal experience for Austin, apparently, because his eyes widened at their appearance and for the first time that evening, he launched into giggles.

  Finally, a beautiful moment. She reached for her camera phone—there was a sudden splashing—and Austin sunk underneath the water.

  His little arms and legs flailed amid the bubbles. Krista grabbed him around the torso and lifted him out. Austin coughed and sputtered, swiped at bubbles over his eyes. She flipped him belly down across her thighs, her lifeguard experience kicking in.