The Ranch Hand

by Hannah Skye

  Harlan now allowed as to how that fella’s advice had been the quality of manure dispensed from the rear quarters of a bull.

  As the days had passed and Carol had stayed away, his ache for her increased until he found himself working almost constantly in a desperate attempt to put her from his mind. Didn’t work though. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her beautiful smiling face. Every time his thoughts wandered they returned to visions of Carol, to memories of Carol, of her riding alongside him, of her naked and eager beneath his hands, panting with need, of both of them lost in pleasure.

  This was killing him.

  His dreams all felt empty now, after being with her. What good were they if she wouldn’t share them? All the things that had once brought him pleasure only seemed empty, worth next to nothing, without her beside him to enjoy and experience them together.

  He had to make this right.

  For the hundredth time he paced the length of the trailer. He was far too restless for such a confined space. He was as keyed up as a cat in a roomful of vacuum cleaners, pacing around, staring at the things inside and not really seeing them. The heater wasn’t on but the place felt too hot, the walls too close, with no place to breathe. Grabbing his coat and hat, he pushed out into the cold air and sucked in a deep breath. The tightness in his chest lessened a little. Stir crazy. That’s what they called it. He’d been locked up inside his trailer for too long, trapped inside his head. He needed to find Carol.

  The sun was setting behind the mountains, leaving the landscape washed in reds and oranges. A quick scan told him her truck was nowhere in sight at Snowbrook. That left her place. He needed to saddle up and ride over. He’d go with his hat in hand if necessary, but he wasn’t going to let the woman he loved ride off into the sunset without damn-well giving his all to keep her. If he told her how he felt about her and she still wanted to go her own way, fine enough. He’d retire to his trailer to bleed, same as anyone. But he wasn’t going to let her go without making it clear that he would do anything for her. Sacrifice anything for her.

  The wind slapped at him as he crossed to the stables. He held the edge of his hat to keep it from blowing off and picked up his pace. Pike whinnied in greeting at the sound of his boots on the wood floorboards as he entered. Within ten minutes he had Pike all saddled up and he was riding out. The mountains had shifted to purples and grays as the sun disappeared, the colors turning them bleak and forbidding. He stroked his hand along Pike’s neck as the horse snorted and stamped, clearly unsettled at this break in routine. He clicked his tongue and Pike started forward. He’d take the fastest route to her ranch, and that meant riding the main dirt roads and forsaking the trails.

  He passed a straggling copse of pine trees growing along the side of the road. Riding made it easy to lose himself in the rhythm of the hoof beats and the maze of his own thoughts. With every passing moment the feeling that he’d done something horribly, idiotically wrong by leaving her grew deeper. The way he missed her…that should’ve told him something right there. The way his thoughts always circled back to her, no matter what, should’ve been another clue. He could be bailing wire and he’d find himself thinking about something funny she’d said. He could be mucking out stalls and he’d remember the way she’d laughed—not that there was any correlation to stall-mucking and her laughter. And it’d probably be wise to keep secret the fact that he’d thought about her at all while doing that particular job. He doubted it’d be appreciated.

  What if she never came back to Snowbrook?

  It was a foolish thought. Even if they turned into enemies, Carol would never stay away from her aunt and uncle. All the same, the possibility filled him with icy fear. He urged Pike up to a canter. His heart thundered in his chest and it was impossible to think of anything except Carol and somehow stopping her from leaving him. If he didn’t set this right, he knew it was over forever. Over time they’d both harden their positions, build walls, dig in like mules. He’d be desperately reassuring himself how she hadn’t really been the woman for him. That she hadn’t truly loved him, and how he hadn’t truly loved her. Frantically trying to convince himself of something he knew deep down to be a lie.

  He dug his heels in, urging Pike to greater speeds. His horse responded like the champion she was. They rode hard, full gallop, tearing up the dirt fields toward the cattle grate and the fence where he knew was the last place he could stop her.

  A man like him might not deserve a woman like Carol, but damn it all, he was going to take her anyway.

  * * *

  Carol almost turned around and drove back to Boulder. Twice her foot had tapped the brakes and she’d looked for a driveway to turn around and head back they way she’d come. She’d gone on, but inside she felt as if there were a wild storm looming on the horizon, moving closer and closer. When she rounded the bend and spotted the man on a horse, both of them stopped full in the middle of the road, she knew there was no chance of turning back. The storm had hit.

  It was Harlan and Pike, of course. They blocked the gate near the cattle guard and watched her roll down the dirt road. Her truck slowed to a halt almost as if she weren’t the one controlling it. She was so focused on him she felt detached from everything else, on autopilot, or as if this were a dream she were having. Harlan watched her from underneath the brim of his hat. In the last fading rays of the sunset, his expression was intense, as though he were a cougar stalking prey.

  He swung down off his horse. She stepped out of the truck. They met in the middle of the road.

  For a moment they simply stood there, staring at one another. Then Harlan tipped his hat.

  “Howdy.”

  Nothing else. Her mouth dropped open. “That’s…that’s all you wanted to say?”

  “No. I have a mouthful to say. I’m workin’ up to it.”

  She crossed her arms and waited. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him and lose herself in his tight embrace. Instead she waited.

  “I was riding easy in life,” he said, speaking slowly, that intense gaze locked on her as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world. “Maybe I didn’t have all the things I wanted, but I was on the trail I thought would get me there. I’d had my eye on you for a long time…but never felt the situation was right for me to make a move.” He paused and rubbed his hand against his chin, thinking, his fingers rasping against his five o’clock shadow. “To tell you how I felt.”

  She waited, her heart pounding hard in her chest. When she swallowed, the lump in her throat seemed to lodge itself in her chest. She didn’t try speaking. It was all she could do to breathe as the storm inside her broke open.

  “Then you went and decided to get on with your life,” he continued. “Buying that land. Heading off on your new adventure. And the part I couldn’t accept was you being gone. The thought of it kicked me like a mule. Thing is, I’m also about as stubborn as a mule, so when I got it into my mind that I had to earn you, well, I had to earn you. No matter that you wanted to do your own thing, blaze your own trail on your own ranch. Maybe I didn’t have land to settle, but I could damn sure take care of that tree. Lend a hand and a little sweat.”

  “Look, I shouldn’t have—” she began, but he held up a hand for silence, shaking his head.

  “No, you had every right. I didn’t understand where you were coming from, and for that I’m real sorry. We went after each other like two wet badgers fighting over the last burrow in the field. I thought I could ride away and things would go back to the way they were. Found out that after the dust settled, I couldn’t go back. I’d changed. I’d changed because I love you, cowgirl. Have for a long while, I reckon. First time I let the words out of my mouth. Long past time, maybe.”

  Her hands were trembling. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to cry. All she did was stand there and stare at him, emotions all storming inside her, and her hands shaking, and all the words flashing through her head like lightning and her unable to catch a single one to speak aloud.r />
  Her silence didn’t seem to upset him none. When he spoke again his voice was low and fervent. “These last few days have been hell for me. With you gone, I ain’t sitting right. That’s how I know. I don’t have much. Hell, I don’t even own that trailer. But what I have is yours. I work hard. I’ll work hard for you.”

  “Work hard for us,” she said, her voice choked. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. “For us.”

  The smile that spread across his face was slow but beautiful. It lit his face from the eyes outward. She ran to him and he caught her easily, spun her around and she gasped a laugh. Then he kissed her. It was a kiss she would never forget. A kiss she wouldn’t trade the world for.

  “I love you, cowgirl,” he said again, that easy grin on his face, but his eyes were full of passion.

  “I love you, cowboy,” she said back, and meant every word.

  Epilogue

  Spring, Colorado

  Carol set aside her hammer as Harlan finished reinforcing one of the joists. Most of the house frame was up, but that was it. Right now it was little more than a skeleton of boards and right angles and here and there a window or door-shaped hole. Still, it was beautiful, even stripped down like this. She smiled. The house was beautiful because it was theirs. Harlan had brought his savings in and together they’d sat down with an architect to redesign the house and the property. The results had been far better than she’d ever dared hope, changing the place into something they would both love. Functional, but grand, and far better than she could’ve hoped for on her own. Most of the construction was being done by a crew because Harlan still worked at Snowbrook—at least until their first shipment of cattle arrived at their ranch—but the two of them still managed to put some work of their own here and there, making the place belong to them from the bones up.

  True, she’d had to go back on her promise to her uncle—the one about not headhunting the help from Snowbrook for her own ranch. Her uncle had only laughed and winked at her, then had planted a kiss on her forehead, his wide mustache tickling her.

  They’d named their new ranch Snowfall Ranch, for the storm that had tumbled them together and forced them to admit the feelings they had for one another. The name was a nod to her aunt and uncle’s place. Her uncle had grinned like a schoolboy and her aunt’s eyes had gone all misty-eyed, though she’d only said, “It’ll probably confuse the mailman something fierce.” Carol thought it a mighty fine name. So did Harlan. That was all that mattered.

  The afternoon was growing late. Evening would be on soon. She glanced at the mountains, then at the clouds. She couldn’t get enough of that view. Not even if she lived here the rest of her life. If all went as planned the house would be up by late Spring. They’d have a working ranch by summer. She smiled, content, and then her stomach rumbled. Well, almost content.

  “You hungry yet?” she called to Harlan.

  He wandered over to her, slapping the dust from his blue jeans. “I could eat.”

  She laughed. The man said it as if he almost needed convincing, but whenever they sat down at the table, he packed food away as though there were a famine in the forecast. “Suppose we should call it a day and head on home. What do you think?”

  “I think I’ve hammered my last nail for the night.” He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. He kissed her so passionately it rocked her back on her heels.

  “Whoa, cowboy, what’s got into you?”

  “You did,” he said, grinning. His voice dropped, filling with promise.

  She smiled back, kissed him and bit playfully at his lip. He cupped her ass through her blue jeans, hauled her up, and carried her over to Pike, who waited patiently, tied to a fence post and nibbling at the grass.

  He set her down, then climbed into the saddle. She swung up after him, sitting in front of him, settling her hand on the saddle horn. He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled close. She felt right.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, glancing over at their house frame and the land and all the potential and future happiness they represented. She couldn’t wait for them to move in and start their adventure together.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, and lifted her cowboy hat enough to kiss the back of her neck.

  Dark was falling as they rode up to her aunt and uncle’s house. All the lights were on, blazing away in warm yellow welcome.

  Her aunt came to the door at the sound of hooves. She was smiling as she dried her hands on her apron.

  “Well now,” she called. “Suppose you are hungry. How about some hot dinner?”

  Carol laughed.

  A little dinner would make things just about perfect.

  ~ About the Author ~

  Hannah Skye loves to write about cowboys and cowgirls. Her first story was about a swimming horse, written when she was eight. While her stories now have people for main characters, she still holds on to her love of horses.

  Discover more about Hannah Skye here

  Website: http://hannahskyeauthor.wordpress.com/

  Twitter: http://hannahskyeauthor.wordpress.com/

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