by Kayla Perrin
“Right now we have twenty.”
“You do much riding?”
“When I have time, I love to get out. For instance, this afternoon … ”
He lost the last bit of what she was saying, as his mind circled back to the time he and Shelby had gone riding in the foothills around Mt. Burke. He’d worked a few summers for Shelby’s father. Mr. Turner had taught him a lot about best ranching practices, how to build a bond with your horse, and, well, life.
“… In fact I was wondering if you’d like to stay in one of our guest cabins for the weekend?”
“Huh?”
“Your grandmother’s house is very small. Our cabins come with king-sized beds, wood-burning fireplaces and well-stocked minibars. Lots of privacy. Did I mention Harvey is in Houston on business this week?” As she leaned toward him, her low-buttoned shirt gaped open revealing cleavage and a glimpse of a lacy red bra.
He sucked in a breath. Kelli-Jo was as gorgeous as ever. But he sure as hell hoped she wasn’t implying she would join him in the king-sized bed. Not only was she married. She was a mother, too.
No doubt she was playing games with him—she’d always been a big flirt. According to his grandmother people who lived their lives playing games always ended up as losers.
“Thanks Kelli-Jo, but you know what they say. Be it ever so humble … ”
“But your grandmother’s house hasn’t been your home for years. You should really check out the cabins first before you turn down my offer.”
“I’ll be fine with Grams.”
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop, clearly not happy with how their conversation was progressing.
Her fingernails were long and tapered, each one a miniature work of art with a combo of turquoise and silver polish. One of them had even been embedded with what looked like a tiny diamond.
“My grandmother would be insulted if I didn’t stay with her.” Never mind the fact that it was his preference, too. But he didn’t want to insult Kelli-Jo by saying as much. He owed her big time. Not only had she parlayed her husband’s business contacts to help him get his True Grit Sponsorship, but if she hadn’t invited him to be the guest of honor at the Sheep River Days, who knew when Grams—or any of his friends—would have filled him in on the news of Gram’s illness.
Blake’s jaw tightened. He understood—sort of—his grandmother’s instinct to protect him and keep her cancer a secret. But why the hell hadn’t Shelby given him a call?
“Oh, yes, I do understand.” Kelli-Jo’s voice was a throaty purr. “I just thought it would be practical if you stayed with me, since I’ll be accompanying you to most of the events.”
This was news to him. “Just tell me where I need to be. I don’t need an escort.”
Kelli-Jo shook her head. “This is my first year as the event organizer and I’d really appreciate the moral support Blake. It’s one of the reasons I put your name forward to the committee—because I knew you’d have my back. You do, don’t you?”
When she put it that way, how could he say no? “I appreciate everything you’ve done to help my career K-J. And of course I’ve got your back. It’s just that I’d like to spend as much time with my grandmother as possible. Do you know she has cancer?”
Kelli-Jo used her fork to push the fries to the side of her plate. Like him, she’d taken only a few bites of the burger. “Yes. I’m sorry about that. Try not to worry. Your grandmother is a strong woman. She’ll be fine.”
“Thanks.” K-J’s attempt to be comforting struck him as a little too pat. But he was probably just being sensitive, having been hit with the news only an hour ago.
Though she’d offered to pay for lunch, he laid two twenties on the table. “I’ve got to go, K-J. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Hang on cowboy. Do you even know where you’re supposed to go, or what time to be there? You’ve been tuning in and out of this conversation like a broken-down radio.”
He wished he could answer, but she was right. He hadn’t heard much of anything she’d said. “Can you text me the details?”
I will. But Blake, this event means a lot to me. Please, please help me make it a big success.”
“Hell, K-J. This isn’t my first rodeo,” he said with a quick smile.
“Maybe not. But it’s mine.” She removed a stack of papers from her purse. “This is a minute-by-minute itinerary for the weekend.”
He glanced at the sheaf of papers as he got up. There were an awful lot of them. Had he really agreed to do all this? He thought ruefully of the contract he’d only skimmed before signing. “I’ll be early for the parade K-J, promise.”
“You better be.” She gave him another of her vixen smiles. “This weekend you belong to me, cowboy.”
*
Blake found his grandmother alone in the shop, fussing over an arrangement that already looked perfect. Her skin looked so pale, he wanted to wrap her in warm blankets, take her home, and keep her safe.
But he knew better than to say so.
“Business meeting is over,” he said, trying to keep his fear for her out of his voice. “I was hoping we could go home and talk. Where’s Shelby?”
“She had some administrative matters to do for the store. Record keeping, ordering, and some Twitter Book stuff. She decided to work from home where there aren’t any interruptions.”
“Twitter Book?” Blake couldn’t help but smile.
His grandmother waved her hand. “I can’t keep up with all this new social media stuff. Thank goodness for Shelby. She actually enjoys it, or so she says.”
“But isn’t it too much for you, to be alone at the shop?”
“Shelby’s already prepared all the flowers for the dance tomorrow night and Joe has taken care of today’s deliveries. We’re not likely to get any more orders at this hour. Maybe one or two walk-bys.”
Blake went behind the counter and put his hands on his grandma’s shoulders. All his life she’d been a plump, energetic woman, who seemed unstoppable. Now she felt so small and frail.
“You’re a straight shooter Grams. Tell me the truth. Have I been a disappointment to you? Is that why you didn’t tell me you were sick?”
“Oh, honey. No.”
Grams turned and cupped his cheeks in that way he’d found so annoying as a kid, but now rather liked.
“I am so proud of you. If I needed help, I would have asked. And maybe I should have been more honest with you. But I didn’t want you to over-react.”
“Can you tell me exactly what your doctors say? Is the cancer for-sure curable?”
“There aren’t too many guarantees when it comes to cancer, honey. But I’m not at death’s door yet, by any means.” She gave him a big hug.
“I love you Grams.”
“And I love you, too. How about we close shop early and go home to celebrate? I bet you’d love a home-cooked meal.”
“Tonight I’d like to cook for you, if you’ll let me.”
“You cook? What—beans and toast?”
“I’ve learned a few things besides rodeo since I left home.” He grinned at her skeptical look. “Barbecuing a good steak is one of them.”
*
Shelby’s heart did a hop-skip-and-jump at the tell-tale crunch of truck tires on the graveled drive of the Rocky Knoll. She forced herself to calmly finish pouring the pellets for the barnyard cats into the bowl. Then she put away the tub of feed, and latched the cabinet.
By the time she stepped out of the barn, with Hermione in her arms, Blake was out of his truck. Somehow she’d known it would be him.
Bordeaux, the ranch’s old but still energetic Border Collie, was quick to check out the visitor. After one sniff, Bordeaux’s entire body started to wriggle. Sure as rain in April, the dog recognized his old buddy.
Blake paused to scratch the dog’s neck. Then he glanced up at her. “Hey, Shel.”
He was wearing the same clothes as earlier—only the belt buckle was missing. But he didn’t need the extra hard
ware to look like a rodeo star. The sun had just set, but there was a residual glow to the day that seemed to bathe him in gold.
She’d seen countless videos and photos of the man. But none of them did him justice. She buried her nose in her cat’s fur. “Remember Blake, Hermione?”
Slowly Blake advanced, until he was close enough to reach out and pet the big tabby.
“Is this really Hermione? She’s so big now.”
The two of them had spent hours with the litter that had been born the first year Blake worked for her father. Normally Shelby’s parents neutered and spayed all their cats. But they’d adopted a new cat that year, and she’d already been pregnant.
There’d been three kittens in the litter. She and Blake had named them after their favorite Harry Potter characters.
“Where’s Professor Lupin? And Snape?”
“You remember their names?”
“Of course I do.”
In his eyes, at that moment, she saw the boy she’d once known. But then his expression hardened, and he was once more the unobtainable, professional rodeo star. Someone who’d traveled all over North America and competed with the very best that the Professional Rodeo Association had to offer.
“Shouldn’t you be resting up for the parade tomorrow?”
“I wanted to talk to you, but I had to wait until Grams went to bed.”
“What do we need to talk about?” She made the words sound like a challenge.
And Blake shot his own right back to her. “Whatever happened to Western hospitality? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
He was right. Her mother had taught her better.
But this man who stood before her now had changed too much from the boy she’d known six years ago. He was like a strong, sexy, dangerous stranger.
She decided to compromise and led the way to the chairs on the back porch, where the hollyhock grew in great profusion up a trellis wall and along the porch railing. As soon as they sat in the chairs that were one arm’s length apart, Hermione hightailed her way off Shelby’s lap and onto Blake’s.
Traitor, Shelby thought.
“Why didn’t you tell me Grams has cancer?”
“When would I have done that? I haven’t seen you in six years.”
“I come home every Christmas. You’re never around.”
She shrugged. “Our family always spends Christmas in Missoula.”
“So maybe it’s your fault, not mine, that we haven’t seen each other in six years.”
“It’s not just that. I don’t even have your current phone number.”
“I had to change it when I started working so much in the States. But you could have found me on Facebook.”
“I’m not on Facebook.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, the shop has a Facebook page. I’m in charge of that, as well as our website, Instagram and Twitter accounts. I don’t have any energy left to spend on social media after I’m finished doing it for Twigs & Sprigs.” She’d rather be out riding Nancy Drew, walking with her dog, or cuddling the cats, anyway.
“Come on Shel. Are you really saying you couldn’t have gotten hold of me if you’d wanted to?”
He had her there. She could have asked Louise for his number. “It was Louise’s decision not to tell you. I had to respect that.”
“But as my friend, you must have figured I’d want to know. That I deserved to know.”
Not until that moment did she appreciate how much his silence over the years had wounded her. “How is it, exactly, that you figure us for friends, Blake?”
He seemed surprised by her question. “We used to hang out, right? I thought we had fun together.”
“For three summers you worked for my dad. Sometimes my mother fed you, so we had meals together. Other times my dad gave you breaks and we’d play with the cats or go for a trail ride. But we hardly spoke to each other at school. Or hung-out together on weekends.”
“Only because we had different groups of friends.”
Right. He and Kelli-Jo had been part of the cool crowd. A world she’d never even tried to fit into. Her friends had been the brainy kids, the ones who took band and belonged to the drama club.
“The times I spent on your ranch were some of the best of my life. I’m serious. Hell, your dad taught me to ride a horse. He’s the one who told me I had talent and encouraged me to sign up for my very first bucking bronc clinic.”
Shelby didn’t need to be reminded of the bond between her father and Blake. At the time she’d actually been jealous of the time her father had spent with his young hired hand. “Dad’s probably your number one fan, next to Louise.”
Shelby knew her dad would have been thrilled with an occasional postcard or email from Blake. But that hadn’t happened. Even though she didn’t voice any criticism out loud, Blake seemed to know what she was thinking.
“Okay, so I haven’t been great at keeping in touch. But the rodeo world is crazy. There’s so much going on all the time.”
“Lots of buckle bunnies I imagine.”
His face flushed, and he couldn’t quite meet her knowing gaze. “I was referring to the travel, the planning, and the rodeos. To have a shot at Nationals, you don’t have the luxury of taking time off. You finish up in one town and then it’s off to the next.”
“And that’s probably why your grandmother didn’t tell you she was sick. She knew you’d be compromising your entire year if you took time off to come home.”
The anger seemed to slide off him then. He sighed.
“Yeah. That’s what she said. It makes me sad, though, that I wasn’t here for her.”
He stared at the wooden porch floor. “I just hope she’ll be okay. I’m finally making big money, thanks to my wins and the sponsorship. If my luck keeps up, in a few years I’ll have enough to buy us some land. Build my grandma a house.”
When they were younger, Blake had talked often about his dream to acquire his own ranch. “You’ll do it, Blake. I know you will.”
“Yeah, but will it happen fast enough? My grandma’s had a tough life. First she raised my mom on her own. Then, after the accident, she had to raise me. All her life she’s lived in a tiny two-bedroom bungalow and economized to make ends meet. I want her to be around to move in when I build my dream home on my land. I’m going to put in all the extras. Granite countertops, new appliances, a big fireplace. She’s never had any of that.”
“Maybe not. But she’s happy. She loves her business, has lots of friends. Isn’t that what counts?”
Blake didn’t answer.
He was silent for a long while, stroking the cat, his gazed fixed on Mt. Burke in the distance. Even though it was August, a band of snow crowned the peak.
“You ever climbed up that thing?” he asked.
“I have.”
“No kidding.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a show of admiration.
“It’s not that difficult. Just takes a long time.”
Hermione had all but melted into Blake’s lap, shamelessly soaking in all the attention.
Shelby didn’t understand how her cat could be so comfortable with him. Just looking at Blake—that masculine face, so familiar and yet so changed—sparked an incredible restlessness in Shelby’s soul.
“I’ve been trying to put a finger on why you look so different. It’s your hair, right? It used to be really curly.”
“When I was in college my roommate staged a beauty intervention. She insisted I ask my optometrist for contact lenses. Then she made me buy a flat iron and showed me how to use it.” Shelby ran a hand down the smooth waves she had to work so hard to tame.
“I liked your hair curly, too,” Blake insisted. “But you were smart to lose the glasses. Eyes like yours deserve to be noticed.”
He was studying her too closely. She could feel her skin heating up, her entire body, too. If just one compliment had her reacting like this, she could only imagine how she’d feel if he touched her. Kissed her.
; She cleared her throat, and glanced at her watch.
He didn’t take the hint. “Aren’t you going to offer me a beer or a lemonade?”
She longed to do that. To do anything that would keep him here another thirty minutes. An hour. The entire night.
But what good would that do? If he’d been out of her league when they were teenagers, he was a hundred times more so now.
So she kept her voice light. “It’s getting late and the parade starts early.”
He expelled a quick breath. Part amusement. Part annoyance. “Overstayed my welcome, have I?” Gently he placed Hermione on the ground.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, adjusting his hat so it sat more forward on his head.
“I’ll be in the crowd, cheering you on,” she promised, doing her best to sound polite and nothing more.
Blake noticed, too. His eyes narrowed. Darkened.
“I don’t care what you say Shel. You and I were friends once upon a time. And damn good ones, too.”
Chapter 3
The parade was scheduled to begin at 9:00 a.m., but Shelby and Louise were seated on their lawn chairs with their lattes in front of Twigs & Sprigs by 8:30 sharp. The parade would travel all eight blocks of Main Street, then veer right onto Saddle Road and finish at the exhibition grounds where the day’s rodeo events would take place.
“I’m so glad it isn’t raining,” Louise said.
“It’s a perfect day,” Shelby agreed. The forecast at the beginning of the week had looked iffy. But the low front had skipped by north of Calgary and it promised to be a beautiful day. Not a single cloud marred the sky.
The good weather as well as the chance to see their homegrown rodeo star had drawn a large crowd from the town and surrounding area. They’d lined up all along Main Street, with the kids—those who weren’t running in zigzag patterns, shrieking and laughing with excitement—sitting on the curb in front of the adults.
Normally, Shelby loved the parade, but this year her stomach fluttered with nerves.
Having Blake in town was turning out to be more complicated than she’d expected. She’d fully anticipated him to all but ignore her. Instead he’d visited her last night, acting like they’d been best buds or something.