“Thanks, Will. That means a lot coming from you.”
“It’s nothing less than the truth. You have an amazing way to think outside of a situation and come up with a solution.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing down at the floor.
“I hate to even ask. But maybe you could consider staying on for just a little while longer?” He took a deep breath. “Sullivan Ranch needs you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“This way,” Annie said, as they approached Wildcat, the wooden roller coaster.
“I’m trying to keep up with you.”
“Oh, I’m not going that fast.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Look. Isn’t she beautiful?” Annie breathed, neck craned to take in the tracks and the white boards as she and Will stood next to the platform.
“Uh-huh. Those steel roller coasters are a dime a dozen. I love these old wooden coasters.”
“This isn’t Zingo, but it’ll do.”
Like most wooden roller coasters, Wildcat had limited seating. Unlike Zingo, which had one car, Wildcat had three cars holding up to eighteen passengers, two to a seat. Annie realized standing in line would be inevitable.
“You ready to ride?”
“Let’s wait until the sun goes down,” Annie said, excitement thrumming through her. “If we time things right, we’ll be riding just when the fireworks begin.”
Will smiled. “Okay, I’m willing. Though Lord knows I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow.”
“That’s not all you’re going to be tomorrow. Look at your legs,” Annie said. “You’ve already got a pink glow.”
“I think today is the first time I’ve been in shorts all summer,” Will commented. “Sunblock washed off when we were on the Renegade Rapids.”
She dug in her tote bag and pulled out the sunscreen. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
White legs or not, Will looked wonderful, nothing like a formidable rancher with his casual attire of sneakers, khaki cargo shorts and dark blue T-shirt. The dark shirt showed off his muscled form, usually hidden by his ranch shirts. Hatless today, his dark hair was windblown, in disorder for a change. No, he wouldn’t be mistaken for a rancher. He looked like every other hunky guy walking around the grounds. Except better. Much better.
Just remembering the feel of his dark curls beneath her fingers as he freed her from the barbed-wire fence left Annie shaky.
He grinned. “What are you thinking? Your eyes are sparking like there’s trouble on your mind.”
“Who? Me?” She laughed. “The church picnic was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Sure was. I just want to know where Rose came up with those pies she brought.”
“I’m not allowed to tell,” Annie said. “That was awfully cool how Pastor Jameson took a turn at the dunking booth, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yeah. I dunked him twice myself. All for charity, of course.”
“Of course. Is that why you dunked Ryan?”
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, Annie.”
“So why didn’t I see you up there?”
He scoffed.
“Look. Funnel cakes,” Annie said, grabbing Will’s arm and pulling him along toward a canopied trailer.
“You’re going to have to pace yourself on this park food. I don’t want you getting sick when we ride the roller coaster.”
“I never get sick eating.”
Will raised a brow.
“Wait a minute.” She stopped right in the middle of the midway.
“Whoa.” Will nearly ran into her backside, placing his hands on her waist to stop a collision. She tingled where he held her. “What now?”
“How did we miss the bumper cars?” she asked.
Will shoved his wallet back in his pocket. “I thought you wanted funnel cakes.”
“That was before I saw the bumper cars. Come on, let’s get in line.” She frowned with impatience at a slow-moving young couple walking the midway in front of them who kept stopping to lip-lock.
“Good grief, that’s ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath, as the couple stopped yet again.
“You don’t like PDA?”
“I prefer private displays of affection.”
Will laughed. “Well, I learn something new about you every day.”
Annie rolled her eyes and darted around them, her focus straight ahead.
“What’s your rush?” Will asked from somewhere behind her.
Annie decreased her pace a fraction.
“Have you thought about getting funnel cakes and then getting in line?” he asked. “That line up there is long enough we’d have them done before we got to the front.”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
“Hey, hey, just a second.” He latched on to her hand as she spun around and pulled her close to his side. “You’ve got to quit taking off like that. I might lose you.”
Annie smiled up at him. “Don’t be silly. You aren’t going to lose me.”
Will watched Annie fight back sleep as she sat in the pickup, leaning against the huge stuffed penguin he had won at the arcade. On her lap was a plastic bag of partially eaten, neon-pink cotton candy. She blinked and crinkled up her face in a losing battle.
“That was so much fun.” She yawned, and pushed her hair back over her shoulders.
It was, and he only wished he could have more days like today with Annie.
“You mean driving those bumper cars like a maniac?”
Will grinned as her embarrassed laughter filled the cab.
“Good thing I get to sleep in tomorrow,” he commented.
She wiggled to sit up straight, and glanced at the clock on the dash. “I’ve got news for you. It is tomorrow.”
“So it is.”
“Besides, you never sleep in.”
“I don’t have to get up at five. That’s sleeping in. I get to be lazy until seven. Chris is doing the morning rounds for me.”
“I hope you won’t regret taking off tonight.”
“Never. Seeing the fireworks display while riding the roller coaster is a memory I’m not likely to forget.”
The dark Oklahoma sky had provided a backdrop for nearly forty-five minutes of choreographed patriotic music and colorful explosions of color. Zipping high above the ground on the roller coaster, it seemed they could almost touch the stars overhead.
Nor would he forget Annie screaming with enthusiastic abandonment one moment, her hands lifted high in the air, and clutching his arm in fear the next, as the coaster suddenly dropped, taking their stomachs along with it.
It was just what the doctor ordered. Literally. He’d spent hours just having fun. Enjoying himself and his companion.
Will savored the memory of Annie’s wicked expression as she knocked his bumper car, and her unpretentious delight at getting completely drenched as they rode the log flume. He’d forgotten the simple pleasure of the Ferris wheel as it took them to the very top of the world.
Will pulled the truck into the drive of Sullivan Ranch and turned off the engine, engaging the parking brake. He stretched his arms over his head. When his glance met Annie’s in the darkened cab, he could have sworn she blushed.
“You’ve got powdered sugar on your face,” he said.
“Do I?” With a nervous laugh she attempted to wipe it off, using her hand to rub her nose and cheeks.
“Completely missed.” He chuckled. “Here let me.” He leaned over to remove the white dust from her chin with the pad of his finger. As he connected with her skin he froze.
His eyes locked with hers.
Was that his Annie glancing at him so expectantly? Her lightly tanned face was framed by the curtain of her dark hair. The brown luminous eyes seemed even larger at this moment. Annie radiated light and beauty from the inside out. She was so lovely.
He hitched a breath looking down at her.
Slowly, his finger moved beneath her chin, nudging her face up.
Leaning forward, he paused, and time suspended for a moment, until Annie was the one to reach up to connect their lips. It seemed as natural as could be.
And then he was falling.
Falling into a kiss.
A butterfly kiss.
He might have imagined the whole thing except that her hand had crept up to gently caress his cheek, then his neck. No, he hadn’t imagined that.
Will cleared his throat and gave his head a slight shake. “Annie,” he breathed, unable to think rationally. Unable to put up defenses. In that moment it occurred to him that he had no defenses against this woman.
And he had no desire for defenses.
He longed to touch his lips to hers yet again, to see if he had imagined the intensity of one small kiss.
A tap on the window jarred him to reality. He and Annie both jumped.
“Will.” Next to the driver’s window stood Chris, looking harried. Will lowered the window.
“What’s wrong, Chris?”
“I was just about to call you on your cell. It’s Okie. Something’s not right.”
Will opened the truck door and hopped down. Annie did the same, withholding eye contact, not waiting for him to come around.
“You called the vet?”
“Couldn’t reach him. But I’ll keep trying. Called Ryan, he’s on his way.”
Together the three of them strode to the barn.
“I think we have a breech on our hands,” Chris said, hands tucked in his pockets “She’s been agitated the past hour, pacing around. I’ve stayed back watching. Then about fifteen minutes ago she started rolling around.”
“Trying to reposition herself,” Will stated.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Will shook his head. “Doesn’t it just figure? Poor Okie.” He went to the mare’s stall and stood outside. Okie whinnied and paced, almost frenzied. He knew she was not herself right now and decided to maintain a distance and save agitating her further until Ryan arrived. “I better go change clothes. I’ll be right back.”
Annie followed him out of the barn, still carrying the stuffed penguin. “Would I be in the way if I changed my clothes and came to help?” she asked, eyes wide.
“You’d never be in the way, Annie,” he said, trying to gauge her emotions. What a fix this was. There was no time to think. No time to talk. Okie needed them.
Lights of a pickup truck moved over them as they stood in the yard.
“Ryan,” Annie said.
“The cavalry has arrived,” Ryan called out, slamming the door of his beat-up pickup behind him. He’d obviously been asleep; his clothes were disheveled and his baseball cap was askew. From his right hand dangled a black leather satchel. “Ah, it’s good to be needed.”
“About time you got here, Jones,” Will muttered.
“Hey, buddy, after we have our foal, we’ve got some unfinished business,” Ryan said, striding up the drive.
“What are you jabbering about, Doc?” Will asked.
“Short memory, huh, Sullivan? That was me you dunked twice before you disappeared from the picnic. I call that foul play.”
“So why are you complaining? First good bath you’ve had in a month.”
Beside him, Annie choked on a laugh.
“Just wait. The time of reckoning is coming,” Ryan said, as he headed into the barn. “I only hope I’m around when it happens.”
Will grinned as he mounted the porch steps and unlocked the door. “We’ll be right back,” he called, as he held the screen door open for Annie.
“Better hurry. If she delivers before you get here, I get first dibs on naming the foal.” He laughed. “I like the name Jonesy.”
“That’ll be the day,” Will retorted.
When they entered the house, Annie dashed down the hallway ahead of him.
“Annie,” he said, his voice low to avoid waking Rose, “we’ve got to talk.”
She turned back, hugging the black-and-white toy to herself defensively, her gaze still avoiding his.
“Do I need to apologize for kissing you?”
Slowly and warily, her glance moved from the rag rug she’d been examining to his boots and, finally, she met his eyes. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“I don’t want to. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Okie’s pained whinny filled the air.
“Will, everything all right?” Rose called from upstairs.
“It’s Okie, Rose. Start praying.” He glanced toward the barn then back to Annie. “We’ve got to get moving. But you need to know this isn’t finished, Annie,” he said. “Not by a long shot.” He raced up the stairs to throw on his jeans, knowing his words sounded as frustrated as he felt.
Chapter Fifteen
The moment the silver-gray Mercedes sports coupe pulled up the long drive, Will started praying.
Not today.
He checked his watch, hardly believing it could be 9:00 a.m. already. After hard work and prayer, the drama of last night had ended on a positive note. Okie and her foal were resting. Only moments before, Ryan Jones’s pickup had departed the spot the Benz now occupied.
He wasn’t expecting Margaret, which could only mean trouble.
Will glanced down at his clothes. He was a fine mess. Between hay, horses, grease and sweat, he probably stank worse than the muck heap. Since he hadn’t known she was coming, he figured she would have to take him as is. Period.
By the time Margaret got out of the car, sunglasses in place, back straight with purpose, Will realized with certainty the Lord wanted him to deal with the problem of Margaret Reilly right now.
Apparently so did she.
She fairly marched up the drive in her slim white suit and heels, a briefcase in one hand, a purse in the other. Her hair had been pulled into a no-nonsense Margaret-do, at the back of her head.
It might only be 9:00 a.m., but already the day threatened to be a scorcher. Will had to give her credit. The woman looked cool and fresh.
At the sight of him, she stopped. “What on earth happened to you?” Pulling her large tortoise-shell shades down a notch, she gave him a second assessment, wrinkling her nose before sliding the sunglasses back in place.
“Just another day on the ranch,” Will answered drily. Removing his faded, old straw Stetson, he ran the sleeve of his shirt over his perspiration-streaked forehead before shoving the hat back on his head. He narrowed his eyes. “Was I expecting you?”
Her perfectly arched brows lifted in surprise behind the sunglasses. “Excuse me?” she said.
He hadn’t meant to be rude, so he corrected himself. “What I meant was did we have an appointment that I forgot about?”
“I called the house several times yesterday afternoon and I left messages on your cell phone.”
“It was a holiday, Margaret. I already explained to you that I had plans.”
“KidCare needs to be able to reach you at all times.”
Will patted himself down, but there wasn’t a phone on him. “Must have left it in the truck. And I did return your calls. I got your machine.”
“You didn’t leave a message.”
He shrugged. No use explaining that besides being a little busy since she’d last seen him, he just refused to play phone tag.
He wasn’t going to give Margaret his itinerary for every single hour of every single day, as she preferred. She ought to know that KidCare had booked him heavily for the summer, and if his weekends were free it was because his weekdays were accounted for with programs. Grateful for the business didn’t come close to describing his appreciation. He had a job to do, and dealing with Margaret’s machinations wasn’t something that figured into his plans.
“Will, I’m here because I really think we need to talk.”
“I’m filthy. I can’t sit in the house until I shower.”
“The porch is fine.”
He eyed her. “Right now?”
“Do you have other p
lans?”
Oh, yeah, he could think of a dozen things that needed to be done, not to mention grabbing a few hours’ sleep and taking a shower.
As he began to answer, Annie limped from around the corner and started up the steps. Exhaustion radiated from every inch of her bedraggled appearance, but she was still smiling, high from the birthing experience. Noting Margaret standing on the porch, she stood straighter, shoving her braid over her shoulder.
“Goodness, you’re a mess,” Margaret said.
Will shook his head. Leave it to Margaret to state the obvious.
“Think so?” Annie said, assessing Margaret’s appearance as she clearly bit back annoyance. “I’m going to have to demand a raise. This personal assistant stuff is a lot more work than I thought I was signing up for.”
He held back a smile.
Margaret sniffed the air and stepped back, fanning herself with a manicured hand. “What is that horrendous odor?”
Annie glanced down at herself, lifting one foot, and then the other. “Oops. Looks like I stepped in something mucking out the stalls.” She shrugged and slipped off her sneakers, tossing them over the rail, next to the hose. “Pardon me,” she said, pulling open the front door.
Will chewed his lip trying not to laugh.
“What is going on around here?” Margaret asked Will as the screen door slammed.
“Okie delivered last night,” Will stated.
“I see,” Margaret said. “Everything went as expected?”
“Not exactly, but we’ve got it under control now.”
Will motioned to the wicker chairs in the far corner of the wraparound porch. Annie had recently helped Rose order the pair from the Sears catalog. He had to admit they looked inviting on the porch.
“Sometimes you can catch a breeze over there,” he said, attempting to keep the resigned edge out of his voice. “And for your sake, I sure hope I’m downwind.”
Margaret sat, removed her sunglasses and placed her briefcase on the gray-painted floorboards of the porch. “Rose has done a lovely job on the flowers and plants,” she said, her gaze taking in the huge Boston ferns overhead and the basket of bright purple petunias on the railing.
Home on the Ranch 47 - Tina Radcliffe Page 16