by Liz Isaacson
Now, if Navy’s cornflower blue eyes would stop haunting him, he might be able to see well enough to get back to his house.
The next day, Gavin woke to the sound of his phone ringing. The sun had barely lit the world, so he scrambled to pick up the call, his heart skipping around his chest. Was it one of his grandparents?
The screen said Squire Ackerman, and Gavin’s pulse switched from one of fear to one of anticipation.
“Morning, Squire,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his free hand through his hair.
“Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, nope.” Gavin stifled a yawn. A cowboy like Squire probably slept standing up, if he slept at all.
“Great. Wondering if you have time to come out to the ranch sometime today.”
Gavin had a contracted job at Sterling Springs Ranch to fix an arch that had blown over in a windstorm last week. He wasn’t quite sure what was the difference between a wedding arch and a birdhouse, except for the fact that he could construct one of them. In fact, he’d built all the arches at Sterling Ranch, no problem.
He could fix walls, and floors, and roofs. But apparently, he couldn’t make a birdhouse that would gain anyone’s trust.
Didn’t matter. No one was calling him to make birdhouses. He was simply dabbling in his shop during the slower winter months. But now that the weather was flipping to summer—in Texas there was hot and then hotter—he’d had more work, especially at the destination wedding venue of Sterling Ranch.
“You still there?” Squire asked, and Gavin startled.
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Just looking at my schedule. I could come out after lunch.”
“That should be fine.”
“What’s goin’ on?” Gavin asked, setting his feet on the floor and burrowing them under the warm body of Blue.
“I’m wondering if you’re still looking for a cowboy job.” Squire’s voice gave nothing away.
But excitement paraded through Gavin. “Yeah, of course. “I mean, yes. Yes, sir.”
Squire chuckled and said, “Gavin, you’re older than me. Don’t call me sir. Just come by my office when you get here. If I’m not here, someone will radio me.”
Gavin pressed his eyes closed. “Okay, see you this afternoon.” He hung up and wondered if he’d already made a fool of himself. He was a year older than Squire, but the man owned the largest and most successful cattle ranch within hundreds of miles.
An inaudible sigh passed through his body. If he could get a permanent position at Three Rivers Ranch…. Just the thought had hope soaring through his body. He had a good life. A good life worth living. He didn’t need a wife or a sprawling homestead to achieve happiness, but a real position on a ranch would be welcome.
The pastor’s latest sermon crossed his mind. Do not linger on the storms of life. Do not spend time wishing and waiting for what might be. Choose to be happy now.
Gavin had been choosing. Choosing to be happy as he drove nails into wood and remade the arch into something substantial and beautiful. Choosing to be happy though he hadn’t achieved his dreams of owning his own ranch. Choosing to be happy right where God had put him and kept him all these years.
Hours later, with the arch fixed at one ranch, and his truck headed north of town toward Three Rivers Ranch, his phone rang, and he glanced at the unfamiliar number. He went ahead and answered it with a “Hello?”
“Did you know there’s not a single person in this town that will recommend anyone but you to fix up my cottage?”
“Navy?”
“I’ve asked six different people. Six. The answer’s always the same. Gavin Redd. Gavin Redd. Gavin—Redd.” She didn’t sound happy about that.
He didn’t know how to respond, so he just let her keep talking.
“So I finally asked for your number, and now I’m asking you to come over and do a little walk-through…or whatever it is you do to tell me what you’d do to fix up this shack and how much it will cost.”
Gavin warred with himself. He wanted to turn around and head over right now. He knew where the cottage was; no address needed. At the same time, he didn’t want to get involved with women who mocked his birdhouses, visited his grandmother for dating advice, and came to town for an undetermined amount of time.
You’ll be here for an undetermined amount of time, he reminded himself. A brick fell out of his defensive wall. “How do you know I’m even available?”
“Oh, I don’t. In fact, I’m sure you’re booked for months, but I thought I’d ask. I’ll even pick up some of those sliders from The Stable.”
Gavin wasn’t booked for months, but Navy didn’t need to know that. If he got the job at Three Rivers, he might not have time though. “I like the regular French fries,” he said. “None of those sweet potato things.”
“They’re actually very good.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Regular fries,” she confirmed. “So you’ll come tonight?”
He wondered how long he’d be out at the ranch, as it was already one-thirty. And with the forty-five minute drive between town and ranch…. “Can I let you know?”
On her end of the line, a horse whinnied. She did not seem like the type to appreciate large mammals in her personal space, though she was clearly from Texas, what with her sexy accent.
“Sure.” She wore a smile in her words, and ended the call with an upbeat, not awkward at all, “See you tonight, Gavin.”
The call ended just like that, and he stared at his phone, the sound of his name in Navy’s voice like music to his ears. He swallowed, sure he was starting to feel soft things for another blonde woman. He couldn’t allow that. Wouldn’t.
So he’d call and cancel in a couple of hours, claiming his job at the ranch had run long and he couldn’t possibly make it to her cottage that evening.
Surely the Lord would forgive the little lie if it protected Gavin’s heart. Wouldn’t He?
Gavin had shelved Navy by the time he turned off the highway and headed down the dirt road toward the ranch. An entire community existed out here, with two homesteads, two families living and working on the land, the therapeutic riding facility and now a champion horse breeding operation too.
Dozens of trucks could be seen as he rounded the bend, and he had the strong desire to add his to the mix. He didn’t need to park at the horse training or healing buildings. No, he turned right and headed for the end of the road, where a large metal structure marked the administration offices for Three Rivers.
Gavin had been here several times before, as the ranch often needed temporary workers. He caught sight of the cabins through the gaps between barns and other buildings and wondered if there was an opening in one of them for him.
Could he bring his dogs? He knew he couldn’t bring his grandparents and he mentally calculated a trip to town and back, checking on them, and possibly eating dinner with them every night like he was used to.
After all, breakfast would be out, though he usually went next door by seven to see what Grandmother had put together for the morning meal.
At least a couple of hours. Probably more.
His heart turned over as he parked way down on the end, the only available spot. A fence sat only a few feet away, but he’d left enough room for someone to get by if they needed to.
He climbed out of the truck, noticing something electric in the air.
Something was wrong.
“Ho!” someone yelled, and Gavin spun, trying to find the source of the sound.
A horse—a very fast, galloping horse—barreled toward him, a woman clinging to the saddle.
Time slowed down, and Gavin had a split second to see so many things. The several men on horses behind the woman. The wild look in the horse’s eyes, and the very dust itself lifting into the air.
Someone yelled something, but Gavin didn’t hear what and certainly didn’t have time to process it.
He jumped in front of the horse, blocking the only escape between hi
s truck and the bullpen. He waved his arms above his head, hoping to make himself look bigger so the horse would stop.
He was not expecting the animal to swing wildly to his left to skirt the bullpen—and head for the wide open range with Navy on his back.
Navy.
Gavin saw the terror in his eyes, and the prompted him to act. He leapt onto the bottom rung of the fence and climbed it quickly, somehow stepped across the top of the fence like he was a gymnast on the balance beam, and launched himself onto the horse’s back as it passed him.
Pain shot through his forty-year-old back, and he grunted. It took several strides of the horse for him to find the rhythm, and by then, he had both arms around Navy.
“It’s okay,” he yelled, fumbling for the reins. “Do you have the reins?”
She didn’t answer, which Gavin took as a no. He leaned in close to her to keep his balance, his mind running as wildly as this horse.
5
Navy clung to the saddle horn for dear life. Behind her, Gavin didn’t seem to be doing anything. What was the point of vaulting onto the back of the horse? Obviously she didn’t have control of it and couldn’t hand him the reins he’d asked for.
She felt a vibration coming from his chest, and she thought he was humming.
“Whoa,” he said and went promptly back to humming. She could hear the hoofbeats of the horses behind them, see men fanning out to corral the wayward horse where they wanted it.
But Gavin needed to stop this animal before it hurt himself or a human being. “What’s the horse’s name?” he asked Navy.
“Charcoal,” she managed to say, and Gavin used the name, stretching past her and hooking his fingers under the headpiece and pulling.
“Whoa there, Charcoal,” he said in a commanding voice, adding a hum to the end of the sentence.
Miraculously, the horse slowed.
“There you go,” Gavin said. “Good boy, Charcoal. Let’s walk.” He clicked with his mouth somehow, and the giant equine slowed further. His sides heaved, and Navy didn’t let an inch of her grip slip. She was not going to fall off this horse in front of Gavin.
She was not.
Gavin kept humming as the horse moved into a trot and then a walk. He eased his body away from her, and though the afternoon sun was incredibly warm, Navy felt a chill take the place where Gavin’s chest used to press against her back.
Before she could fully straighten her spine, cowboys surrounded them. The horse stopped and someone helped her down. Pete, the owner of Courage Reins where Navy had come to ride for a couple of hours, stood right in front of her, concern etched in every line of his face.
“You okay?”
Squire Ackerman, the owner of the ranch where her uncle had worked for a decade, stepped in front of Pete, almost forcing Navy back. “Yes, tell us where you’re hurt.”
“I’m not hurt,” she managed to say. She felt strange among all these tall cowboys, and she glanced around to find Gavin. He stood back a ways, talking with a couple of other men wearing cowboy hats. None of them looked at her.
“You’re not hurt?” Pete said, glancing at Squire. “What happened with the horse?”
“He freaked out,” Navy said, trying to find something solid to attach her thoughts to. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Snakes,” Squire said in a dark tone, and he turned away.
“There wasn’t a loud noise?” Pete asked. He reached out and touched her as if he was sure she’d shatter with the whisper-light touch.
“No,” Navy said. “We were going along just fine, headed back.” Her legs hurt. Her head pounded like that horse’s hooves. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “We came up to the fence line, and the horse nickered. Whined, you know, made a noise.”
“Mm hm,” Pete said noncommittally. “And?”
“And then he just bolted.” Looking back. Navy was grateful he’d headed toward the ranch and not out into the wild. Who knows if she would’ve ever been found then?
Pete put his hand on her shoulder. “I think you should get checked out.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but no one seemed to hear her. Squire and Pete drove her into town to the emergency room, and she couldn’t get out of it no matter what she said.
So she suffered through the questions and the probing and the x-rays, steadfastly proclaiming that she was fine. The doctor came back in with her films and slapped them up on the lightbox.
“You’ve got a hairline fracture in your left hand,” he said, glancing at her. “Is that new?”
Navy started rubbing the damaged limb. “It must be.” It didn’t hurt, and she told him so.
“No, it’s not serious. Can you think of how you got it?” He flipped off the lightbox.
“I have no idea.” She had been gripping the saddle horn pretty hard. Had she fractured her hand with a tight grip? How ridiculous would that be?
She took in a deep breath, the stale, sterile scent of the hospital soothing her somehow. This was her familiar place. Something she knew well.
“Well, I can prescribe some painkillers.” He leaned against a cabinet and nodded to the nurse, who started tapping on a keyboard. “I imagine you’re a bit shook up and probably have a headache.”
Navy nodded, pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t cry. She was shook up, and she wanted nothing more than to return to her apartment and—
She cut off the thought, because she was hundreds of miles from Dallas and her comfortable apartment. No, the only place she had to go back to was a run-down shack with ice cold water shooting from the shower head.
“Which pharmacy?” the nurse asked, and Navy just shook her head.
“Send it to White’s,” the doctor said. “I’ll go talk to Squire.” He left, and the nurse finished.
“Come out when you’re ready,” she said before following the doctor and leaving Navy in the cold room alone.
She sat sandwiched between the two huge cowboys while they waited for her prescription. Rode between them as they rumbled back to the ranch.
And Squire kept his hand on her elbow as he guided her toward his homestead. “My wife made dinner. Come eat, Miss Navy.”
“I’m not going to sue you,” she said, flicking a glance at him and then Pete. “Or you.”
Squire grinned, but it only stayed for a moment. “That’s a relief. But really, we just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“You live alone, right?” Pete asked, pressing in very close to Navy as if she’d tumble right down the steps Squire was leading her up. “New in town?”
“I don’t live here,” Navy said. “I’m just renting a place for a few months.” And yes, she lived alone. Wanted to be alone so desperately right now.
Squire opened the door and the most delicious scent of pot roast hit Navy, eradicating all thoughts of driving herself back to town without eating first.
Her stomach, traitor that it was, growled loudly, and a measure of relaxation melted through her.
Then gorgeous Gavin Redd entered the kitchen, and Squire released her to give his wife a quick hug. “Oh, good, you made Gavin stay.”
“He’s not happy about it,” Squire’s wife muttered as Pete settled Navy at the bar.
“Why aren’t you happy about it?” Squire turned to Gavin. “We can talk about the job.”
Gavin’s eyes flew to Navy’s, and a hint of color entered his face. “I can come back when things aren’t so crazy.”
Squire laughed then, and his wife and Pete joined in too. “Go sit,” his wife said. “This is as un-crazy as it gets around here.”
So Gavin followed her directions and took a seat at the table. Pete nudged Navy over there too, and then he nodded to Squire and left through the sliding glass doors they’d come through.
“Where are the kids?” Squire asked.
“Chelsea came and got them.”
“My sister,” Squire said, taking a seat. “Oh, and Miss Navy, this is my wife, Kelly.”
“Nice t
o meet you,” Navy murmured, feeling very much like she was on a double date. She threw a glance at Gavin, but he was arranging his napkin on his lap like he was about to eat at the ritziest restaurant in town.
“So Navy,” Kelly said, spreading her own napkin across her lap and removing the lid from a glass dish of mashed potatoes. “What brings you to town?”
Panic pranced through her, and she felt very much like Charcoal must have earlier—like she wanted to bolt and run as far and as fast as her legs would take her.
“Oh, just needed a break from work.”
Gavin seemed very interested in the conversation, at least until it turned to other things. He started speaking with Squire, while Kelly kept the chat with Navy alive single-handedly.
Finally, dinner ended, and Squire shook hands with Gavin. “You’ll make sure she gets home okay?”
Gavin gave a curt nod and gestured for Navy to go first out the door and down the steps. At least he didn’t steady her, though it she wanted a man to touch her, it would be him.
Stop it, she told herself. He’d spent the whole meal talking with Squire about a job at the ranch, and if there was one thing Navy now knew for certain, it was that she didn’t want a ranch life.
But she couldn’t pinpoint why not. Kelly was obviously content and happy. And Three Rivers Ranch had grown considerably since the last time Navy had been here. If they had a grocery store and a gas station, it could become it’s own town.
Riding back into town with Gavin felt seven shades of awkward, and thankfully he kept the radio at a loud enough level so talking wasn’t required.
He pulled onto her lane and went all the way down it, until the headlights shone against the front door, before he stopped.
“Thank you,” she said, finally finding her voice. “For the ride. And for saving me on that horse.” She turned toward him, her emotions rioting now. What if he hadn’t been there? How much longer could she have held on?
“I can come by tomorrow about eight to look at the place,” he said.