The Ranch Hand

by Hannah Skye

  She felt herself blush and then burst out laughing. She was so foolish, blushing out here in the darkness with no one around, like a shy girl, too young to know better.

  The sound of boots crunching on the driveway gravel startled her. She turned and caught sight of Harlan walking toward his camper trailer that nestled in a little copse of evergreen trees near the paddock. She smiled, watching him walk, loving his long gait. Watching him when he hadn’t noticed her made her feel powerful, as if she had a secret hiding place and she could see him, but he had no idea of her…careful observation.

  She snorted. Careful observation? More like peeping.

  “Hey cowboy,” she called, surprising herself. “Over here.”

  Right up until the moment the words had burst out of her mouth she’d believed she’d only wanted peace and solitude. Now her voice echoed, bouncing back from the stables and the house. She bit at her lip, eager for him to stop and sit awhile, but nervous all the same.

  He halted and looked toward her. One of the outside floodlights behind him threw his face in shadow, so she couldn’t tell if he was happy or annoyed to see her. But he walked over to her, crossed his arms on the truck bed, and leaned against it.

  “So this is how you get out of doing the dishes,” he said. “Devious.”

  “Nope. Tonight was your night for dishes, buckeroo. I did last night.”

  “Tex. Buckaroo. Guess that’s better than cowpoke.”

  She gave a short laugh. A cool, almost-cold breeze came down off the mountain range. Soon it would be too cold to stay out like this for long. She’d better enjoy it while she could. Unless she found someone to keep her warm.

  “So what’s on your mind?” He cocked his head to the side, watching her from under the brim of his hat. “You’ve had something you’ve been dying to tell me all during dinner.”

  She gaped at him. “How do you figure that?”

  “I could see it plain enough. Lots of pauses. Heavy silences. So, out with it then.”

  No escape now. She wouldn’t lie to him, either. He deserved the truth.

  “I’m leaving Snowbrook,” she said. “I bought land off my uncle, twenty-five acres.”

  He nodded. “I had an idea some big deal was going on. Didn’t know it was you.” He pushed his hat farther back on his head and smiled…though she thought she saw a shadow in his eyes. “Congratulations are in order.”

  “There’s more. Three weeks and construction starts. I’m going to be living on site, overseeing everything. Helping out.” She shrugged. “I already have a trailer there. A generator. Well water access. I…I didn’t want to say anything until it was final.”

  He stayed very still and didn’t reply for a long moment. Her heart beat hard in her chest. She didn’t dare move, though she suddenly felt very cold. Had telling him been a terrible mistake?

  “So that’s why you haven’t been around as much,” he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. “Your uncle’s been distracted too. I thought it was just the market. Surprised he didn’t mention it.”

  “We agreed to keep it quiet. No…actually I asked him to keep it quiet. The banks…and if it fell through I didn’t want to look…” She shrugged and glanced away, frowning. It sounded stupid to say now, but if the deal had fallen through she hadn’t wanted Harlan to know she had tried and failed. It had seemed so important at the time. Right up there with insisting her uncle charge her a market fair price for the land, not simply give it to her as he’d first wanted. Now that she’d succeeded, deal in place, dream in reach, her reservations seemed foolish and overblown. “Well, I couldn’t have done this without him. But it’s something I’ve always wanted, and I know I’d be good at it.”

  Harlan nodded. “You will be.”

  She smiled, pleasure washing through her. His faith in her, and the simple way he’d said it, made her feel stronger, capable, good enough to pull it off.

  “Mind if I sit?” he asked.

  She scooted over and patted the blanket on the truck cab. “Don’t worry if we dent it. On this piece of junk, nobody’ll ever notice.”

  He laughed and climbed up next to her. He was so tall that he stretched his long legs out, stretched back on his boot heels as he sat on the cab. “How many head of cattle you planning to keep?”

  “No more than a hundred to start. And I want horses. I want to get back into horse training. I miss it.”

  He nodded again, slow and easy. “You always were good at it.”

  “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

  He turned his head and looked at her frankly. “I’m not telling anything but the truth.”

  She had to glance away. She didn’t want him to read what was in her heart or see the emotions that had to be plain as day on her face. Thank God it was dark out.

  “You need help?” he asked, when she didn’t reply.

  She straightened a little. “No. Thank you, but no.”

  They were quiet for a while. She thought of a hundred things to say and couldn’t say any of them. She was wondering what would come next when he put his hand on hers where it rested on the truck roof. His skin felt delightfully warm. His fingers and palms were heavily callused, like worn leather, rough as old rope. And yet his touch set her heart to beating like mad, as if she were riding a horse at full gallop.

  She turned her hand to intertwine her fingers with his. He was looking at her. So close. His face so serious. With his other hand he pushed back his hat and leaned toward her. She tilted her chin, closed her eyes. Unlike the rest of him, his lips were soft against hers. His kiss deepened. She parted her lips and enjoyed every little bit of it. Finally he drew back, still watching her solemnly.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for two years,” he said.

  “Why…did you wait?”

  “If you’re leaving, then that was my last chance.”

  “I don’t believe in last chances,” she said. “I believe in new chances.”

  He smiled and touched her face. “I know you do.”

  He stood up on the truck bed and held a hand out to her. She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. They stood together in the truck bed, but he didn’t hold her, didn’t pull her close.

  “So what now?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

  “You go make your dream happen, that’s what.”

  “You can come around, maybe… I’ll always have a cold beer in the fridge. It’s a ranch hand staple.” God, she sounded so desperate. And foolish, tacking that last part on, trying to cover her feelings, making it seem less important than she wanted it to be.

  Foolish and desperate, and part of her didn’t even care. That part of her wanted to grab Harlan and kiss him. No, she wanted even more. She yearned to push him back on the truck bed and yank those jeans of his down, to tease him till he groaned and then ride him fast and hard, driving herself down on his cock, feeing his heat trapped inside her, driving off the cold. His heat held inside her, where it would be hers. For a while it would only be hers.

  “You reminded me of something, tonight,” Harlan said.

  “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  “I need to work harder than ever to get what I want.”

  There was a pause and a rising tension between them, growing in the silence.

  “What do you want?” she finally asked, hoping, desperate that he would say it. That he would say he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

  “I’ve wanted my own ranch since I was fourteen. You reminded me that it’s within reach, if only I want it badly enough.” He smiled and looked toward the stables where Pike was, then turned back to her. “I’ll never forget that kiss.”

  He swung over the side of the truck, boot heels hitting the dirt with a hard smack. He walked away, off toward Snowbrook’s battered camper trailer. She sank back down on the truck’s wheel well, feeling her stomach squeezed tight, her heart like ice inside her chest. For the shortest, sweetest moment she’d actually thought she’d had all her dreams wi
thin reach. The dream of her ranch. The dream of Harlan.

  Now she had nothing but a kiss.

  And she wanted so much more.

  Chapter Three

  Harlan rode Pike along the range, herding the cattle back to their pens. An early winter storm was on the way, and it smelled like snow. Already the sky had turned a flat steel gray. The wind had picked up and slapped at him in the saddle as if eager to shove him off.

  “C’mon, girl,” he said, stroking Pike’s neck. “Let’s get ’em home safe. Then we can call it a day.”

  He’d been struggling to keep it together all morning. Three cups of coffee had only left him both wired and tired, which sounded impossible, but there it was.

  All last night he’d tossed and turned in his bed, replaying his conversation with Carol over and over again. He was a damn fool. There were a thousand things he should’ve said. Hell, he owed it to her. If he were going to kiss her, he owed her the truth. But after learning she’d achieved the dream he’d always chased, while he still scrimped and saved and toiled away and kept seeing his chance at his own ranch slipping further away… After learning that, all the words had stuck in his head, nailed there, and he couldn’t pry them out. Was it jealousy? No. He couldn’t be that petty. He refused to believe it.

  It was only when he’d seen her this morning as she was hitching the trailer to the ranch’s work truck that he’d realized how badly he’d blown it. She’d been readying for a trip to town for supplies and feed. He’d raised his hand to her and shouted a greeting. Her return wave had been too casual. She hadn’t smiled or returned his shout, and that wasn’t like her.

  He guided Pike to the herd’s right flank, tightening it up, guiding them away from a thick stand of trees that would be a nightmare if the cattle scattered through it. He glanced at the sky again. Gray and cold. He settled his hat down tighter against the wind. Looked as though cold weather had come early this year. Winter would be rough.

  Especially a winter with Carol gone.

  He tried to keep focused on the herd, but his thoughts immediately careened back to Carol and last night. How had things gone wrong after that kiss? She’d felt as deliciously soft and warm as he’d always imagined. It had been torture to draw away, to keep to only one stolen kiss and restrain all he felt for her. Somehow, despite all his noble damn intentions, he’d hurt her. Knowing he’d caused her pain made him feel clumsy and stupid and low. Seemed as though he was still as coarse as hemp rope and smooth as a fence post gnawed by a heifer. Nothing ever changed.

  He’d only wanted to let her know how her success had inspired him to redouble his efforts to buy his own ranch, finally make his own way. As a ranch hand, he’d always known he had little to offer her. Hell, he lived in a trailer that wasn’t even his. But if he owned his own ranch, then a girl like Carol…well, he’d present a more suitable prospect. But despite all his long hours and hard work, he hadn’t grabbed his dream in time. Now she was farther from him than ever…and soon she’d be gone, off running her own land, and it would be damn dark around here without her smiles.

  At least for him, anyway.

  It took longer than usual to herd the cattle back in the pens. They were unhappy and skittish about the storm. He was unfocused and reacting too slowly, so it was a relief when he finally guided the last of the cattle home safe. He’d just finished up when the first snowflakes began to fall. A few minutes later they were coming down fast, fat and sticking to everything.

  He glanced at the long, winding dirt road that led from the ranch to the main road. Carol wasn’t back from town yet, though she had a four-wheel drive and chains if it came to that. She’d be okay, even if it got nasty.

  His horse nudged him and snorted as he led her back to the stables. He set a calming hand on her neck, but a low-grade nervous tension buzzed inside his stomach.

  She would be fine. She was a perfectly capable driver. Hell, she’d driven in Colorado weather all her life. He was being an overprotective fool about it.

  He thought about calling her cell phone, urging her to be careful and decided against it. He could see no way to do it without coming across as a condescending ass. He sighed, shook his head, and went to finish up as the snow came down like a white sheet, covering everything.

  * * *

  Carol’s business in town took longer than she’d planned. She’d hoped to be in and out before the storm, but the grocery store had been packed with people stocking up before the snowfall. When she’d finally finished and loaded the big grocery run for the ranch onto the truck, she’d run into more delays at the feed store. The delivery truck hauling hay and oats had been late, again because of the freak storm.

  Because of the delay, she was forced to kill time in town, having lunch at a little greasy spoon called Curley’s Corner, staring out the window at the ominous gray sky. Normally the food there was great. Today her BLT had tasted like sawdust and she’d set it aside unfinished. It wasn’t the sandwich though; it was her. She was worried about the coming storm, fretting about the frozen food she’d bought…and still brooding over last night. The way Harlan had seemed to draw away from her after she’d told him the news she was leaving, though he’d done his best to hide it. Then surprising her with that wonderful kiss.

  No, she wasn’t going to think on that anymore. Either the kiss or the leaving. The food would be fine, too. She’d packed the meat safely in a cooler she always used for the long trip, but she didn’t have room to fit all the ice cream inside. There had been a doozy of a sale on ice cream, near a third off, and she couldn’t pass that chance up, daydreaming of ice cream cones, ice cream sundaes, ice cream shakes…until she’d discovered that flat meat packaging fit far better in the cooler than six tubs of ice cream. Nothing to help it now. That fence had fallen. Three ice cream gallons sat in plastic bags in the back of the truck. It was cold out, but not cold enough to keep the ice cream solid forever if she didn’t get back on the road soon enough.

  Forget the ice cream; it was the late hay delivery that really worried her. They needed the supplies, and if the storm were truly bad, they might not be able to get back into town for a few days. There might be enough hay bales at Snowbrook to see them through…but then again maybe not. She didn’t like to gamble—not with livestock, and never with their horses, which, in her mind, were closer to employees. She meant to uphold her end of the deal with those horses—food and shelter in exchange for their hard work. She was determined to stick it out and come through for them. Actually, now that she thought about it, she guessed she considered the horses closer to family.

  The snow started coming down hard an hour before the delivery truck arrived. At first it didn’t stick, melting away on the asphalt, the building roofs, and the car hoods. But as she waited for the tractor-trailer to unload, the snow began to linger on the surfaces cold enough not to melt it right away. When Billy and Carl had finally helped her load her trailer with hay and supplies, the three of them had worked fast in the snowfall. Two, going on three, inches of snow covered the ground already. It stuck to her cowboy hat, her jacket, clung to her boots, left icy cold kisses on any bit of exposed skin.

  Now she carefully guided the truck and full trailer back on the main road and headed back toward Snowbrook. Traffic was light, but conditions were treacherous. She had the truck in four-wheel drive and the weight of both the truck and trailer gave her decent traction. She took it slow and steady, but the snow began to fall harder and visibility started to drop—not enough to force her off the road, but enough to make her concerned. A plow had been along once already, but the snow continued to come down fast.

  Driving was tense, but simultaneously tedious. Her mind began to wander as she rolled steadily along. She started thinking about Harlan again. That kiss. That blissful, toe-curling kiss and then…nothing. She didn’t know what she’d expected from him. But whatever she’d hoped for—him begging her not to go, him following that kiss with something more—whatever it had been, him talking about how she�
��d inspired him hadn’t been it. She wanted—

  A SUV came up fast in her rearview mirror, driving with far too much speed for the road conditions. Damn fool. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, watching the SUV eat up the distance between them. She didn’t dare tap the brakes, even to let him know she was in front of him and moving at a far slower speed. Doing that might cause the SUV driver to overreact, lock up the brakes and crash.

  The road was only two lanes. The SUV swung out into the oncoming lane without a signal and zoomed past her. The glow of headlights appeared a few hundred feet off through the thick snowfall from a vehicle coming toward them. The SUV cut back into her lane too soon. She had to step on the brakes hard. The trailer lost traction, and the truck started to slide. Her heart leapt into her throat. She gently turned into the slide, careful not to over correct. The weight of all the supplies made the handling sluggish, and the truck seemed to fight her, determined to go into a full spin. Grimly, she fought back, struggling for control.

  She hit the bank of snow that had been shoved off the road by the plow. The truck shuddered for a second before powering through. The wheels on the right side went off the road. She fought against the pull to the right, battling to keep the truck moving in a straight line as she very gently tapped the brakes.

  Once she’d won control, she carefully pulled farther off the road so another driver coming from behind wouldn’t slam into her trailer. She slowed to a stop with her heart hammering away and adrenaline popping in her veins. Crap. She wished she’d gotten the license number of that idiot driver, but she’d been too busy keeping her truck from careening off the road. The SUV had raced off without stopping. Of course. She hadn’t expected anything different from a driver like that.