by Jillian Hart
"Come on, let's get Bullet and Tamra saddled."
"Saddled?"
"We're going riding, girl." He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side, against him, safe. Heaven could not be as grand as this feeling of having her tucked against him. Every wish he'd ever had whispered within him.
His hopes crept upward, even when he knew he should hold them back.
* * *
Bullet stood at attention in the shady aisle of the barn, saddled and bridled, watching his beloved owner with melted-chocolate eyes. Cord checked the cinch and gave the horse a pat on the shoulder. "We're good to go."
All she could do was to smile. It was impossible not to remember being tugged against him, with his arm draped around her shoulders. The feelings of peace and contentment whirled through her like a warm and gentle wind.
She wanted to feel that again, to be snug in the shelter of his arms, a sanctuary she'd never imagined before.
"You wait right there, Gorgeous." Cord swung into Bullet's saddle with the masculine ease of an old western movie star. "Your cinch is checked. Here, let me help you."
The day's light found him, turning the highlights in his hair to copper and gold and outlining the stunning strength of his physique. As handsome as he was, nothing could outshine the goodness within.
Air wedged in her throat, as she gazed up at him.
He looked like a man who kept his promises, who wouldn't break her heart.
He held out his gloved hand to her. Like a heroine in one of her favorite historical romance tales, her hand found his. She slipped her boot into the stirrup of the other horse's saddle.
She knew perfectly well how to hop up and lift herself into the saddle, but with the might in one muscled arm, he lifted her into the air. She swung her leg over and settled onto the back of the white mare, Tamra.
Oh, it felt good to be on horseback again.
"Hold on tight," he rumbled, taking the reins into his left hand. "She's a wild one."
"Don't worry. I am, too." She laughed.
He laughed.
The mare seemed happy.
"Come with me," he said, and his horse took off.
As if she was going to be left behind! She gave Tamra a little press of her heel, and the gentle mare gladly surged forward. The rock and roll of the horse's gait made her grin. Wow, it felt good to be riding again.
"You might make a Montana girl yet."
"Maybe." Happiness filled her at that idea. Could she see herself living here? Could she picture spending the rest of her life here?
When Tamra emerged out of the barn and into the wash of sunshine, she felt free. No obligations, no responsibilities, nothing holding her back. It was cool feeling the horse's power beneath her, the life, the rippling muscles and rolling gait.
The glow in her heart brightened a smidgeon.
Being with him like this, with the Montana breezes blowing and the brilliant landscape stretching out for as far as she could see, made her feel renewed.
Larks sailed through the tall grasses. A robin perched on a fence post, watching them, wings ready to take flight. It felt as if they were the only two people on earth as he reined his horse up to the gate. She watched as Bullet sidled up to the handle so Cord could release the latch.
Far off in the blue distance, a pair of hawks circled, hunting for an early lunch. The rustle of the grass, the whir of the wind and the squeak of the gate were the only sounds. No traffic noise, no airplanes overhead, no neighbors, nothing.
Just country quiet.
Until Cord's cell chimed. Bullet rolled forward, and Tamra kept pace at his side. The horses carried them into the pasture as Cord checked his phone, frowned, and tapped back an answer. "Sorry, I had to answer the vet. Work doesn't always wait."
"I know the feeling."
"I'm ignoring this text from Jenna. She is nosy."
"I got the feeling. Although I had fun with her social media page. You don't post a thing on yours."
"I'm not really the type." He winked. "Or when I do have downtime, I'm feet up on the couch with a book or a tv remote in my hand."
"You work long days, too. I know the feeling. Wait. Give me a minute." She drew Tamra to a stop, and Cord obliged, stopping Bullet at her side.
Now was the perfect time, she thought, to let her friends see what she'd been up to. She fished her cell out of her back pocket, swiped the screen and held the camera at arm's length. "Selfie time."
"Forget it. I take horrible pictures."
"Good. I'll say, this is Cord, who takes terrible pictures. Everyone will understand. Especially me, because I do, too. I avoid cameras." She rolled her eyes, teasing him.
"Something we have in common."
"Good, that should make you smile." She brushed the screen, the camera clicked and their smiling faces, bright and happy and wind-swept, stared back at her. The horses were visible, the background of stunning meadows and mountain vistas told the whole story.
"Just a second." She hit her social media app, uploaded the pic and typed, spending my day in the Montana sun with a friend.
Cord's grinned widened. "That is not going to go over well with Jenna."
"I tagged you." She slipped the phone back into her pocket. "This is going to get interesting."
"My mother is going to see that."
"So is mine. Oh, I hadn't considered that.
"My sister already blabbed to Mom. Mom saw the post of us having pizza. She couldn't believe I met you online and that you actually came to see me. It was the sole topic of conversation for the rest of that evening. Everyone wanted to know about you, what you were like, what you did for a living, how I felt about you."
"Did you tell them?"
"I handed out a few details and held back the rest." It was tough to be vulnerable again. To have everyone watching to see another relationship fail. He didn't have a good track record. "Look, that's part of my herd."
A mass of cattle in the next field over lifted their heads one by one from grazing in the wind-swept grasses. Ears pricked with interest. A few riders were out and about, cowboys with a pickup parked nearby working on the wire and metal fencing.
Cord lifted his hand to them and kept on riding. "Those are some of the men Renee cooks for."
Emily liked seeing that. She saw men on horseback farther out, just dots in the field, keeping an eye on the cattle. Tamra took off with a happy trot up a worn path in the grass.
"She drives the food out during the warm weather months, and she will bring out hot coffee and hot food to keep us all from freezing in the winter. We eat in the living quarters next to my office, off of one of the horse barns. It's got bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room and bunk rooms because if a bad storm rolls in, not everyone wants to risk driving in that snow and ice. They stay over, and Renee feeds them."
"You run a good organization."
"I try. Alex owns the next ten thousand acres over, and we combine and run a lot of it together. We grew up helping take care of this land, so I help him, he helps me. I love working with him every day."
"You have a good life here, Cord. A real blessing."
"I do. I thank God for it every day."
"I would, too." She sounded breezy, as if she hadn't said anything of great significance, but he wasn't fooled.
Would she be willing to change her life for him? His breath wedged between his ribs painfully as he hoped. Maybe he had a distant shot at getting her, huh?
"Maybe you'll decide you like Montana?" he asked in return, keeping it light and casual, fighting not to reveal his growing affections.
"You never know. I'm here and I love it, I can't say I don't."
The horses lumbered along. It was another perfect Montana day with the rolling stretch of green earth and heavenly blue sky as far as he could see. The melody of larks serenaded them as he circled Bullet around to catch the trail into the trees.
10
"What do you think of ranch life so far?" Cord as
ked across the comfortable fleece blanket spread out on the ground in the meadow not far from the access gravel road where Renee had trucked up a picnic meal.
This is better than any restaurant, Emily thought as she took another bite of the delicious lasagne rollup meal she'd helped to assemble.
"I'm enjoying ranch life immensely," she confessed. "I can see why you never want to leave. You have everything here that matters, including a really fabulous cook."
"Now, you feel me," he winked. "Is that hip language?"
"I don't think so."
"I'm never cool, no matter how hard I try. Once, for about five minutes, I was, and I've never been able to achieve coolness again."
"You never will."
"The truth hurts."
"It does. Sorry about that. I rather like that you're not cool."
"Well, I do have my dashing traits."
"No, you don't."
"That's what Alex says. Jenna just throws garlic bread at me. I'm not sure what that meant at the time, but I think it was the only handy weapon she had. The breadstick broke in her hand when she tried to lash me with it. I get abused."
"You suffer."
"You don't seem to pity me."
"No one would."
They howled together. Happiness buzzed in her stomach like a thousand soda pop bubbles. And it had everything to do with the man sitting across from her, eating a slice of buttered french bread.
If you're not careful, Emily, you're going to fall in love with him, she told herself. Already she was seeing him through the eyes of fondness. Next, would it be love?
His strength, his goodness, everything that she admired in him hooked her hard. Stunning dimples bracketed the most handsome grin she'd ever seen.
"I've never been the popular-with-the-ladies type. I've never understood why." He winked. "I mean, I give it my best shot, and no one will fall in love with me."
"I can't imagine why."
"No comment on that. I want you to think I'm more in demand than I am."
"I'm not fooled, Cord. I have your number."
"Uh, oh. I'm in big trouble now."
"No kidding."
"I guess it was inevitable, but I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t figure me out so soon." His lady-magnet dimples cut deep and attractively around his stunning smile.
That smile did something to her soul. It wrapped around her, hooked deep and didn't let her go. Trapped, she reached for another piece of bread, trying to pretend she wasn't in trouble with her feelings. It was wise to be cautious.
"I'll admit it." Cord pushed his plate away, his meal done. "I'm not as experienced as I let on."
"Really? I never would have guessed it." Tongue in cheek, she rolled her eyes and reached for her soda can. She caught the straw and vacuumed up the last of the bubbly liquid. "How many girlfriends have you had? Three tops?"
"Sadly, no. It started with Sara May Jenkins in the third grade." Cord began packing the plates and empty food tins into the wicker basket.
His brown hair tumbled over his forehead, blown by the wind, making him look both rakish and dependable all at once. A great combination for her heart to fall for.
He chuckled. "I was sweet on little Sara. She was in my class, and every morning from late April to the end of school that year I would pick a buttercup or a daisy from the fields when I was waiting for the school bus and leave it on her desk for her to find before class."
"Did she know it was you?"
"No, as I was sneaky." Black flecks in his eyes dazzled, making his gaze impossibly fathomless.
The world surrounding them faded, the buzz of the bees and the songs of the larks vanished until he was the center, her center. She saw only him, his rugged face, his lopsided grin, his manly appeal. The dimples carved into his lean, sun-tanned cheeks deepened, bracketing his smile to perfection.
Total and complete wow.
Her pulse stilled, her spirit silenced and places in her soul sighed. He'd touched her that deeply and she could not look away. What would it be like to have him as the center of her life? What if he was her everything?
His phone rang, trilling a merry tune, startling her back into reality. The meadow returned in full Technicolor, the birds and wind crescendoed and she blinked against the brightness her sunglasses could not cut.
"Go ahead and answer that. I'll wait." She smiled at the man who was nothing but trouble in boots and a Stetson.
She took the last of the dishes and packed them into the small basket. Cord turned on his heel and went to untie the horses. What a figure he made, outlined by the sun, limned by sky and earth. Her heart gave a telling thud. She was falling a little bit in love with him.
Cord had grabbed her with his goodness and that was the scary part, how strong that hold was.
She stood and began folding the blanket.
"Here, let me help." Cord leaned in to grab the end of the blanket. His arm brushed hers, his fingers bumped hers.
Those tiny soda pop bubbles came back to life, making it impossible to breathe. Unaware of it, he folded the blanket with a few shakes and folds and stuffed it into the basket.
"What happened with Sara May?" she asked.
He tied the basket behind his saddle. "She didn't suspect me. The class Romeo took credit, and I lost her. I did not venture into attempting to woo anyone until I was in college."
"You're a cautious man, Cord."
"You bet I am. I'm no fool. That broke my heart, not to even be noticed." He tossed her a grin.
Happiness ebbed out of her with no way to stop it. "That broke my heart, too. Poor you."
"I appreciate your sympathy. I don't get a lot of that in my family. A little pity, sure, because of the sorry way I turned out."
She howled, mounting up onto Tamra's back. "You are a sorry sight. I feel pity for you, too. Just pity, nothing else."
"It's why no one will marry me." He stopped to pick a buttercup and a daisy from the wild grasses. "These are for you."
She took the delicate wildflowers, tears burning behind her eyes. Her throat felt too tight to speak.
"I'm a big spender," he winked.
"These are some of my favorite flowers."
He didn't answer. She didn't speak. Their gazes met and lingered.
Affection curled through her as golden as the sunlight, sweeter than anything she'd ever known before. It whispered up from the bottom of her heart, stronger than her fears, overwhelming her. It carried her emotions away on a current that did not stop.
All she could see was him burnished by the light and filling her heart. Her emotions for him deepened more as his hand cupped her chin.
"You haven't given up on me yet?" His thumb moved over her face, traveling the outline of her lips. His dark eyes deepened to a flawless black, where hope gleamed. "You haven't decided to speed back to your hotel, grab your luggage and race for the airport while the getting is good?"
"No. My chance of returning to see you tomorrow is hovering around fifty percent."
"Only fifty?"
"That's understatement. I don't want to tip my hand and reveal my heart." Humor was her only defense against the overwhelming realization that he was leaning in a hair's breadth closer.
And she wanted him to.
Her lips tingled. Air lodged in her throat, and she fought the panicky urge to bolt backward and put a much safer distance between them. But it wasn't what she truly wanted. There was nothing safe about the affection stark in his eyes or the softening of his chiseled lips about to kiss her.
Yes, her heart whispered. The affection she'd been holding back threatened to rise up, no longer silent. Then it would be impossible to ignore.
This might not work out, she told herself, she had to be sensible, she had to be cautious because this man, with the bright sunlight outlining him and tenderness unveiled in his eyes, was the one thing she wanted on this earth.
Her entire soul uplifted like grace's touch when the pad of his thumb caressed her bottom lip.
>
"What will it take to increase those odds?" He drawled, deep and mellow. His rumbling voice swept through her like a Sunday morning hymn.
Don't push me away, she begged. She'd been hurt the last time he did, when he dismissed her as a friend in Seattle. But she understood. He wasn't wrong. He had a beautiful life here that he could not leave.
She laid the flat of her hand on his chest and felt the muscled strength of him and the thud of his heart. Her entire spirit responded, like recognizing like.
"The flowers did it. Your odds have improved." She glittered up at him, afraid she was too open, afraid he could see everything.
"Good to know." He moved away. The moment was gone but the closeness between them remained, an emotional intimacy that did not fade as he mounted into his saddle and took hold of Bullet's reins. "Does this mean you like my life?"
"Yes. We're so different, you and me. And then, we're also not so different at all." She gathered Tamra's reins, ducking her chin, hiding her expression from him, but it was too late. He'd already read the truth in her, in the steady gleam of hope that now strengthened in him, too.
Right now his life was new and novel for her. One partial day of seeing how life on the ranch ran, of meeting his horse and a cow, of riding through the fields on horseback was a fun adventure.
But a year of it? A lifetime? He could still hear Jennifer's words she'd tossed at him right in front of the pizza place for everyone to hear. I'm going to have a real good life. You and your little farm were always second choice. You just didn't know it.
He could never see Emily using words like that to hurt him on her way out of his life. But he could picture her drifting away, making polite excuses, or regretting leaving her big career and her beloved family behind.
His common sense wanted him to cut and run out of self-preservation, but his heart wouldn't consider it. If this was the life for her or not, that was her choice and he would wait for her to make it.
No matter what it did to him.
* * *