Wallflowers: Double Trouble

by CP Smith

  “Right. Don’t fall off,” I muttered.

  Definitely an order I wanted to follow.

  Boris picked up the pace after our instructions, and I was beginning to feel less awkward in the saddle. In fact, I was feeling downright comfortable, like a real cowgirl.

  “I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this,” I called out.

  “Good. Good,” Boris replied, absentmindedly.

  Feeling adventurous, and a little rebellious ‘cause Dad wasn’t paying attention, I kicked Tiny Dancer so she’d trot a little faster, and caught up with Poppy. “Race you,” I chuckled, not really meaning it.

  Poppy, who was always one for an adventure, raised a brow at me and kicked her horse into a higher gear with the flick of her reins, shouting out, “First one to that pine tree.”

  I should have known better, but my competitive spirit kicked in like a sibling competing for their parents’ attention, and I copied what Poppy had done. That was my first mistake. Tiny Dancer took off like a rocket, and it was then I realized I’d screwed up. Galloping was a whole other level of horsemanship. I made it twenty feet before I started sliding off her side. Rather than hanging on and being dragged to death, I let go. That was my second mistake. I landed hard in the middle of a wild raspberry bush. A raspberry bush with thorns.

  “What did I say?” Boris shouted as he pulled up quickly next to me.

  “Don’t,” I grumbled, pulling leaves and berries from my hair, “fall off.”

  “And did ya listen?”

  I wiped blood off my arm and looked up at the man, smiling between clenched jaws. “No, Dad, I didn’t.”

  Poppy rode back, clearly having mastered galloping, and looked down at me. “Nice fall. Very graceful.”

  “Bite me, snowflake.”

  “Girlie, you shouldn’t have worn a white shirt. You’ve got smashed berries all over the front. You look like you’ve been shot,” she chuckled.

  I climbed out of the bush, snagging the front of my shirt on the way out, and looked down at my appearance.

  Yep. I looked like I’d been in a shootout with a raspberry bush.

  This was not my day, which pissed me off ‘cause it had started out so promising.

  Tiny Dancer came prancing up, and I swear she had a smirk on her face. “Yeah, I suck at riding. Go easy on me from now on,” I grumbled as I pulled myself onto her back. I made it up but hadn’t swung my leg over when my hand slipped and tugged the reins down. Tiny Dancer started turning in circles as I grabbed the horn and pulled myself up. She was moving too quickly for me to get my leg over and I ended up draped across her back like a sack of flour while she danced in circles. On the second turn, I caught Poppy with her phone out. “What are you doin’?” I asked while trying to pull my leg up.

  “Filming your humiliation, of course.”

  That was the icing on my shitty week.

  “I . . . Want . . . A Wallflower divorce,” I cried out as I held on tight.

  “Sorry, no can do,” Poppy chuckled.

  “Are you ladies done horsin’ around?” Boris asked as he grabbed hold of Tiny Dancer, stopping my spiral of death.

  I pulled myself up, threw my leg over, then pointed at Poppy and bit out, “It’s all her fault.”

  Boris looked between the two of us and shook his head, grumbling, “Thank God I had a son.”

  Whatever!

  After my little mishap, I kept Tiny Dancer on a tight rein. It took us a good hour to make it to the top at the slower pace, but the ride, my fall notwithstanding, was worth it. Looking out onto the valley below, I sighed with contentment. Tall pines rose straight and even, their old needles coloring the ground like a rust-colored carpet. The rolling hills were breathtaking. The different hues of green took on the appearance of a patchwork quilt that touched the clouds.

  “Breathtaking,” I whispered.

  “You can almost see the ranch,” Poppy said, pointing toward a red-colored roof peeking out between the green.

  Boris began circling the herd, so I took the opportunity to slide off Tiny Dancer and rest my legs. Poppy followed suit, and we laughed when we took our first steps.

  “Now I know what they mean by cowboy legs.”

  “Yeah, it makes sense why women used to ride side saddle,” Poppy added.

  “Or rode sitting across a man’s lap.”

  “True that. I’ll definitely have a new appreciation for Jamie, Brenna, Judith, and Gillian when I re-read their books. They traveled for days on horseback at a breakneck pace.”

  I stretched my back and groaned. “I once wished I lived in their century. The way Julie Garwood wrote their stories made you want to step back in time. Then I remembered they didn’t have epidurals for childbirth, and I changed my mind.” I laughed.

  “How many kids do you want?” Poppy asked.

  I shrugged. Kids were the last thing on my mind. I’d just be happy to find a good man at this point.

  “I’m not sure I want any. If their father left like mine did . . . You know what I mean.” She sighed.

  Poppy’s daddy issues were deep-seated. It would take a patient man to break through the wall she’d put up, that much was clear.

  “I get it,” I jumped in. “But not all men are like your father,”— or mine, I thought—“so keep an open mind like Cali said.”

  Poppy nodded, then scanned the herd. “Maybe Boris has a brother?”

  “He has a son,” I reminded her. “But he’s probably our parents’ age.”

  The cry of a cow directed our attention up the ridge. We both watched as a heifer called out over the edge, dancing in place as if in distress.

  “What’s she looking at?” I asked, then moved behind Tiny Dancer and looked over the edge. Below on a wide outcrop was a calf. “How did you get down there?” I shouted at the baby cow.

  Two brown eyes looked up at me, fear radiating from its young face.

  “We should get Boris,” Poppy stated, then turned to find him.

  I scanned the ridge looking for a way down. There wasn’t one. It was a steep drop except for a few trees that had grown above the ridge line.

  “If one of us climbs down there, maybe we could pull her up with a rope?” I mumbled to Tiny Dancer.

  She snorted in reply.

  “I climbed a tree once,” I argued. The speckled mare jerked her head up and down, and I took that as an agreement I should try.

  Only one tree looked like it could hold my weight, so I pulled Tiny Dancer behind me and tied her off, then squatted to my haunches and looked over the edge. “You still with me?” I called out to the calf. She looked up at me with just enough attitude I knew she was thinking, “Where the hell else would I be?”

  “Okay, take this one foot at a time,” I whispered.

  There was a small ledge about ten feet down, so I sat my ass on the ground, scooted over the edge, and climbed my way to the ledge. Then I reached out until I had a good hold of a branch and said a silent prayer that I didn’t fall and break my neck.

  “On three,” I told Tiny Dancer. “One. Two. Three!”

  Pushing off with my legs, I was suspended in the air for half a second before my weight shifted. I grabbed hold of the branch with my other hand like an aerial artist, tensing my biceps so I wouldn’t fall. My hands slipped for a moment as gravity tried to pull me down, but I held firm.

  Now what?

  I looked below, but I was too far from a limb that would hold my weight. I needed to make my way to the trunk of the tree.

  I was too afraid to move my hands, so I brought up one of my legs and hoisted it over the limb. Then I followed with the other. I looked back at Tiny Dancer and found her watching me. “Don’t worry. I work for the circus on the weekends,” I huffed out while trying to hang on.

  “Sienna?” Poppy called out as I hooked an arm around the branch and pulled myself over until I could sit up.

  “Here,” I called out.

  Poppy and Boris appeared at the edge of the ridge, their faces
saying what neither had. ‘What in tarnation is wrong with you?’

  “I’ll climb down. You guys throw me a rope, and we can pull her up.”

  They both stared dumbstruck at me for a moment, then Boris moved out of my line of sight.

  “And you call me crazy?” Poppy shouted. “Boris has a radio. He’s gonna call down and have some ranch hands come up.”

  Well, hell.

  “I didn’t know he had a radio,” I called out. “I figured we were on our own, and considerin’ Boris’ size, I knew it would have to be one of us who went down.”

  Boris appeared at the edge with a radio at his mouth. “Copy that,” he answered. “How long ago did he leave?”

  Static crackled, then Natasha’s voice rang out. “About fifteen minutes after you left. He should be there any minute the way he took off out of here on Goliath.”

  “Copy that. I’ll let you know if I need more help gettin’ the calf up and Sienna out of the damn tree.”

  “I’m not stuck,” I argued, reaching up to the branch above me. “I just need to make my way—”

  A loud snap echoed as I grabbed hold of the limb and felt the branch beneath me give slightly and then bend.

  “Oh, fudge,” I mumbled, reaching up with my other hand to take the weight of the branch. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  Boris dropped the radio, then got to his knees and reached out to me. “Grab my hand,” he ordered.

  I shook my head. “If I release my hold, I’ll put more weight on the branch, and it will break off.”

  “Sienna, grab his hand,” Poppy argued as she dropped to her knees and lay down next to Boris. “We won’t let you fall.”

  I gauged the distance between us and decided it was too far to risk. “I can’t reach you without lunging. You won’t be able to catch me.”

  The branch beneath my feet gave again, so I repeated the move I’d made before and looped my legs on the branch above me. Tipping my head back, I looked at Boris and Poppy. “I’ll make my way to the trunk now and climb down.”

  Even with my head upside down, I could see movement on the horizon. There was a man in the distance making his way toward us. He was riding Goliath, who was a huge beast of a horse, yet the rider wasn’t dwarfed by his size.

  “Your man is here,” I told Boris, then began to work my way down the limb toward the trunk.

  “He’s not my man,” Boris said, huffing with exertion as he got to his feet. “He’s here for you.”

  I dropped my head back. “Me?”

  “That’s what Natasha said.”

  Peering between them as blood rushed to my head, I cocked it sideways so I could get a better look at the man.

  “Is that—” Poppy gasped.

  “What’s Bo Strawn doin’ here?” I cried out, then lost my hold on the branch.

  Bo pushed the stallion harder as he flew across the meadow. He wouldn’t relax until he saw for himself that Sienna was safe. That her free spirit hadn’t landed her at the bottom of a gully. Scanning the herd, a group of three horses came into view, so Bo headed in their direction. Within fifty feet of their location, Bo’s heart began to race. Poppy was lying on the ground next to a larger, older man, and both were looking over the edge. He scanned the area for Sienna but didn’t see her, and knew instantly what they were looking at.

  “Bo! Help!” Poppy shouted as he pulled the stallion to a stop.

  Bo bailed off the horse, ran to the edge, looked over the side, afraid of what he’d see, then bit out, “Why am I not surprised?” Sienna was hanging upside down from a tree limb. “Move. Give me some room.”

  Poppy moved immediately, and Bo took her place.

  “What are you doin’ here?” Sienna snapped.

  “Savin’ your ass, it looks like.”

  “I don’t need savin’. The calf does.”

  Sienna pointed toward the edge of the outcrop, indicating a young calf. Ignoring her, Bo scooted over the side and climbed down onto a narrow ledge. “Crawl toward me,” he ordered.

  Sienna dropped her head back and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I’m goin’ down, not back up. You can either help me or keep quiet.”

  “You’ll break your fuckin’ neck,” Bo bit back, then he noticed her shirt was covered in blood. “Jesus, don’t move, you’re already bleedin’.”

  Sienna ignored him, which didn’t surprise Bo, and started making her way slowly toward the trunk. “It’s raspberry juice, not blood.”

  “Goddamnit, Sienna,” Bo shouted, scanning the tree for a way to reach her before she fell. The limb closest to him was bent, and Sienna was on the one above. He could climb lower or jump for the trunk. When she lost her foothold and struggled to wrap her leg around the limb, Bo took a deep breath and lunged for the trunk. He smashed into the pine and slid a short distance, stopping himself with his armpits on the lower limbs, then began making his way up toward her.

  “Show-off,” Sienna huffed as she finally found her footing.

  Bo kept his mouth shut. If he said anything now, he was liable to shout her out of the tree. He’d tear into her once he got her on the ground.

  He reached Sienna just as she made it to the trunk, hooking his arm around her waist as she lowered her legs. When she wrapped her arm around his neck and reached for the trunk, Bo growled, with as much control as he could muster, “Don’t say another word until we’re on the ground or so help me God . . .”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then got a good look at his expression and shut it, rolling her lips between her teeth to keep from popping off.

  “Smart move,” he snapped. “Now follow me down and step exactly where I step. Understand?”

  “You girls are gonna be the death of me,” Boris grumbled. “I swear I can feel my blood pressure risin’. First, you fall off a perfectly good horse, and now you’re tryin’ to break your neck.”

  Bo had started down, but stopped when he heard Sienna had been unseated by her horse.

  “Don’t forget about her graceful dance laid out across the horse’s back,” Poppy laughed. “That was priceless.”

  Bo’s head began to pound.

  “Sienna?” Bo said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Visions of her being thrown from a horse and breaking her gorgeous neck battled with his need to roar at her.

  Tipping her head over her arm, she looked down at him. “What?”

  “You better be worth the heartburn you’re undoubtedly gonna cause me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ll tell ya when we reach the ground,” he sighed.

  He knew she would turn his world upside down; he just didn’t know she would do it hanging from a tree.

  With less than three feet to go, Bo jumped to the ground, then turned and lowered Sienna safely to her feet. He opened his mouth to lecture her about using her head, but stopped when her brown eyes hit him with a questioning look.

  “Why are you here? Is Cali ok?”

  Sweet almonds invaded his senses, waylaying his anger and replacing it with lust. He’d driven all night to get to Sienna, to apologize for being an ass, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Bo? Why are you here?”

  Rather than explain his reasons for coming, Bo grabbed her by the neck, jerked her to his body, and slammed his mouth over hers. There was a time to argue, and there was time to take matters into your own hands. Bo wasn’t good with words, so he’d let his actions do the talking.

  Heat sparked to life the moment their mouths met, and any lasting reservation he may have had about Sienna melted away. Wrapping his hand in Sienna’s hair, Bo tilted her head to the side and deepened the kiss until she melted into him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. He ignored the shouts from above asking if they’d made it down safely. He didn’t want to pause long enough to answer them. He wanted to savor the moment. Drink it into his soul to remember for the rest of his days. Because he knew from the sweet whimpering sound she made, to the way her body arched into his
, this was the last first kiss either would have. Sienna belonged to him now. And God help any man who tried to take her from him.

  Sienna broke from his embrace with a shove to his chest and stumbled back. Her eyes were heavy with lust, so Bo started to reach for her again. She narrowed her eyes at him, rather than respond, then drew back her arm and swung for his head. He dodged the punch with ease and smiled.

  His woman was feisty.

  “You can’t kiss me like that after you were a jerk the day before,” Sienna shouted, raising her fist again for a second try. Before she could attempt punch number two, Bo wrapped her up tightly and claimed her mouth again.

  Lifting Sienna off her feet, Bo backed her into the tree, leaning his weight into her so she couldn’t move. “You’ve had me in knots since the moment I laid eyes on you,” Bo whispered against her mouth. “You got under my skin the minute you opened your mouth.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” she gasped. “You hated me yesterday.”

  “I never hated you,” Bo returned. “I was just bein’ an ass.”

  “Yes, you—”

  He captured her lips a third time, hoping to delay her questions until they could be alone. Sienna melted into him again, so he deepened the kiss. He was determined to show her with his mouth she could trust what he said.

  She responded with equal vigor, then seemed to remember herself and pushed him back yet again. “If you care so much, then why did you humiliate me the way you did with Chase?”

  “You weren’t supposed to see that,” Bo sighed.

  “If it wasn’t to humiliate me, then why did you go after him?”

  “Because I wanted to rip his fuckin’ head off for kissin’ your cheek,” Bo growled.

  Her eyes grew wider at his admission.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Bo said. “In my heart you were already mine, and I don’t like when another man touches my woman. I don’t share, and Chase crossed that line.”

  “If you felt that way, then why did you push me away?”

  “I’d had little sleep after Calla’s case, and I hadn’t had time to work through my feelin’s,” he admitted because that much was true. Chase had escalated matters, then their brush with death had brought him full circle until he could see clearly.