by Robyn Grady
He considered her for a long moment. “Teagan’s staying the weekend. You should fly down for a visit.”
The thought of facing that town sent her pulse rate spiking. But she would feel better if she could see for herself that her dad—her only living immediate family—was okay. She didn’t have to leave the ranch. And, hell, if people knew she was in town and wanted to talk, they could go right ahead and gossip.
“I can go tomorrow,” she said. “Be back Monday.”
“Take as long as you need. Tate and I will be here when you get back.”
“You could take him to Disneyland while I’m gone.” Tate asked to go every day.
Dex shook his head. “Too many people.”
She read his thoughts. Too many risks.
And that’s when the idea hit.
“You should come. Tate, too. I could show him how to ride a horse.” Thinking of the individual Dex termed “the rat,” she added, “No one will even know we’ve gone.”
He studied her expression as if he thought she might be joking. “You want us to go to Mountain Ridge?”
“Tate could get out in the open, run around, meet my dad. He’d have a ball.” She arched a brow. “I bet you’d enjoy yourself, too.”
“I always enjoy myself whenever you’re around.”
Then he drew her into the circle of his arms and, his mouth dropping over hers, gave a sizzling example of his enjoyment. The kiss was slow and hot and brought to the surface all those urges they had both tamped down these past days. When his hold tightened a fraction and the caress deepened more, she grew limp even while her heart began to thud against her ribs. She’d missed his touch so much. For so many reasons, she was glad that she’d suggested that Teagan take care of Tate tonight. And if Dex agreed to go to Mountain Ridge, she knew her dad would take Tate under his wing, show him the many wonders of the Scott ranch. He’d always wanted a son. A grandson, too.
And it might be selfish, but she and Dex might find some time to share by themselves…times like the one they were sharing now when she only wanted to have him all to herself.
When their lips gradually parted, Shelby felt her smile to her toes.
“Does that mean you’ll go?”
His warm lips brushed hers again. “Let me get some stirrups for my boots and we’ll book a flight.”
“You mean spurs.”
Clearing his throat, he steered her toward the car. “Yeah. Them, too.”
Ten
They landed at the closest airport midmorning the next day and were driving through downtown Mountain Ridge by noon. Tate had chatted constantly but, worn out, he now slept in the back of the rental. In the passenger seat, Shelby held onto her seat belt and simply gazed out the window, watching people as they rolled down a wide small-town road. Dex hoped this would be a good time for her. A good time for them all.
“The first traders came here in 1871,” she told him. “The newspaper and post office followed five years later. We were a site for public lease options during the oil boom of the 1910s and ’20s. Then the Depression hit. Population withered from around six thousand to two.” She pointed. “That’s our City Hall.”
Dex ducked his head to check out the austere double-story Georgian building on the corner. The national flag fluttered on a pole planted in one sidewalk, a single old-fashioned light post stood on the other. Next door was a neatly trimmed park with a bucking bronco monument. An ice cream shop came into view. An old man stopped licking his vanilla cone to peer at the Lexus as they slid by.
Yep. They were a long way from L.A.
“Feel strange to be back?” he asked.
“I’m having one of those ‘seems like years ago and only yesterday’ moments. That’s the kindergarten I worked at.”
Clutches of kids were on recess, running around a bright plastic-molded fort and slide while a middle-aged lady straightened a toddler’s hat.
Farther down was a café, a real estate office and finally a hairdresser called Designer Elegance Salon. A woman around Shelby’s age was walking out the door. Her stride slowed as she shielded her eyes from the sun and examined the car. Next second she held her stomach as if someone had poked it. Beside him, Shelby hands fisted in her lap.
He glanced in the rearview mirror as the woman slipped out of view.
“Someone you know?” he asked as they rolled out of the town proper.
Putting on a smile, she wiped both palms down her skirt. “Everyone knows everyone here.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
“There are a lot of pluses. People tend to look out for one another when bad times come around. Death. Unemployment.”
He glanced at her rigid profile. Guessed at her thoughts. “But you have to keep a clean nose?”
“Well, you can try.” She nodded ahead. “Our place is a few miles out.”
The Scott Springs Ranch was off Quail Road. Dex turned the Lexus into a long drive beneath a big S, etched in the image of a curved rope, carved in the massive ranch gate. Soon a homestead appeared…painted timber, porch with well-kept railings all round. Not far from the front steps, a giant oak provided a pool of shade. To one side sat an old crippled tractor. Beyond that was a pond. A series of fenced pastures rolled off to the right and the backdrop of jagged mountaintops was so majestic, Dex’s breath was taken away.
What a place to call home.
A man wearing a felt cowboy hat wandered out from the barn. His pace was measured; he seemed cautious but not worried. When Shelby threw open her door and slid out, arms wide, a smile erupted on the man’s face. The two embraced while Dex stood back. When he was young, his own father was away a lot of the time, building his empire. A far cry from what Shelby’s life here would have been growing up. Money couldn’t buy those kinds of bonds.
Finally her father drew back. His pale blue eyes were glistening with emotion. “Now this sure is a nice surprise.”
“You sounded as if you could use some company,” Shelby said.
“So you flew all the way out from California?”
“I brought two extra guests along with me.” She gestured for Dex to join them. “I told you all about my new job. This is my boss, Dex Hunter.”
The men shook hands. Dex wasn’t surprised by the strength of Mr. Scott’s grip.
“Good to meet ya, son.”
“Mr. Scott.”
“Call me Zeb.” He slotted his hands into the back pockets of his worn jeans. “Sounds like things have fallen into place for my girl in L.A.”
Dex placed a palm on Shelby’s back. “She has people talking everywhere she goes.”
When Zeb Scott shot a glance at his daughter, Dex didn’t miss the way Shelby dropped her gaze and looked away. Clearing his throat, her father pasted a smile back in place.
“You said two extras.”
Dex opened the back door and extracted a sleepy Tate. His legs wrapped around his big brother’s waist as Dex carried him over on a hip.
Zeb chuckled. “Well, hello there, young man.”
Tate held out his dinosaur and yawned. Zeb took the toy and chuckled again.
“I’m sure we had one of these when Shelby was a girl.” He glanced across at his daughter, who shrugged.
“You should never have introduced me to Barney.”
“That would’ve been your mom.” Zeb’s smile wavered. Dex knew the same look from his dad. Zeb was thinking back, longing for those times when they’d all been together. But then Zeb handed the plastic dinosaur back and ran a hand over Tate’s hair.
“I’ve got a fresh jug of lemonade cooling and there’s a nice breeze coming down from the hills.” He cocked his head toward the homestead. “Let’s sit and get acquainted.”
Shelby offered to fetch the lemonade with Tate while th
e men took up chairs side by side on the porch. Zeb set his hat on the nearby table and wiped his brow with a sleeve.
“You looking after her?”
Dex grinned across at the older man. Guess Zeb Scott was the direct kind.
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“She deserves respect.”
“I agree.”
“Some men say the words, but don’t follow through with the action.”
“Sir, I know about her engagement breakup.”
Huffing, Zeb looked down and shook his head. “All that damn awful business… It tore her up. I’m just glad she didn’t end up with that piece of crap.” He met Dex’s gaze. “Don’t normally curse but I could say a whole lot worse where Kurt Barclay is concerned. Makes me sick to my gut to think of Reese with him now. She was like a daughter to me and Cathy.”
“Shelby’s happiness is important to me.”
“Which is why you’re on vacation with a woman who is supposed to be your employee?” Zeb dug his heels into the timber floorboards. “You can see why I’m a little confused.” His voice lowered. “A little concerned.”
The screen door squeaked open. Shelby and Tate were back with a tray.
“Pour mine up to the brim, honey,” Zeb said.
Feeling slightly unhinged, Dex sipped his lemonade. When he’d accepted Shelby’s invitation to visit with her here with Tate, he had wondered a little at how he’d be received. Never had he anticipated being put on the spot within two minutes of saying howdy-do.
The adults started talking again. It didn’t take long for Tate to be telling Zeb all about his stay with Teagan and his life back in Australia. They hadn’t coached him, so thank God he didn’t mention black vans and bumps on his own father’s head. Before thirty minutes had passed, Tate had gone from looking shy to sitting at the foot of Zeb’s chair, then to skipping out to explore the old tractor forgotten in the expansive front yard.
“How’s your lungs?” Zeb put down his half-emptied glass. “Heard on the news again the other day, Los Angeles is the most polluted city in the country.”
She explained to Dex. “I had an infection in my lungs.”
“She had pneumonia,” Zeb pointed out. “She was laid up for months.”
Shelby changed the subject. “How about a special roast for dinner? Honey carrots, crisp baked potatoes.”
“She’s an excellent cook.” Zeb’s smile turned thoughtful. “Her dear mother was, too.”
“But I thought I’d take Dex and Tate out for a ride before I start in the kitchen,” she said.
Zeb asked Dex, “Where are you from, son?”
“Grew up in Australia.”
“I’ve read about your outback and the… What do you call those wild horses of yours? Brumbies.”
“I lived in the city,” Dex said. “I’ve only been on the back of a horse maybe a half dozen times and that was when I was a kid.”
“Then you got some catching up to do.” Shelby moved to the rail and looked over Scott land that sprawled out for endless miles.
“Do you have livestock?” Dex asked.
“Not anymore.” Zeb joined his daughter. “But I like to keep the place in good repair. Shelby used to help until—”
“Until I moved away,” she slipped in. “Why don’t we get the bags out of the car and I’ll show you and Tate the guest rooms.”
Guest rooms?
He hadn’t expected anything else. Although when she sent him a private wink as he rose from his chair, Dex wondered if Shelby’s thoughts mimicked his. Could they get around the separate bedroom issue, if only for one sweet hour or two?
* * *
After a simple lunch, Jeb and Shelby saddled up a pony for Tate. In a corral next to the barn, on the back of a docile animal, the little guy sat so straight and wasn’t the least bit afraid, even when Gypsy worked her way up to a gentle trot.
But twenty minutes was enough for a first time. Zeb showed him the chickens and a sleepy black-and-white Holstein cow that apparently provided more fresh milk than the Scott ranch could use. Tate sat on a stool and tried his hand at milking, which resulted in giggles and a squirt or two of success. After sandwiches for lunch, they took a stroll over to a pond that was home to a flock of indolent ducks.
It was past two when Zeb had another suggestion. While Tate threw the last of the bread at the gaggle, Zeb placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What say we head back and I can show off my coins. I have a Massachusetts Bay silver. Over four hundred years old.”
Tate’s mouth swung to one side as he angled his head. “That’s not as old as a dinosaur.”
Zeb gave a hearty laugh, a sound Dex had come to appreciate more as the afternoon had rolled on. He might be keeping both eyes peeled with regard to Shelby’s best interests, but he was nothing but encouraging where Tate was concerned.
“Come on,” Zeb said, heading back toward the house. “Time for another glass of Murtle’s ice-cold milk. Or more lemonade for those who want it.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in a living room that smelled a little musty and was decorated with rich oak and velvet-covered sofas. Zeb’s collection was displayed on the coffee table. Tate was asleep against a bank of crimson tasseled cushions.
Shelby laid a throw across Tate’s legs.
“I’ll watch him,” Zeb said in a hushed voice. “You two go for a walk. Or have a ride.”
Shelby straightened. “Sure that’s okay?”
“More than okay,” her father replied as he smiled across at Tate.
They saddled up and took the horses out onto a prairie that was a sea of Indian grass. Shelby wanted to step the horses out but Dex was doing fine setting his steed at a nice steady walk.
She smiled at him from beneath her hat. “Pretend you’re John Wayne on a movie set.”
“I’m aware of my capabilities, thank you. Driving fast cars, check. Braving the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad roller coaster, check. Being thrown from a galloping horse and breaking a leg in three places—not happening.”
“I’ve never been thrown.”
“We won’t start now. I told Zeb I’d look after you.” He straightened his Western wide-brimmed hat that he’d brought all the way from Rodeo Drive. “He really seems to be enjoying the company.”
“My mom passed away when I was ten. I was it as far as kids went, so he focused everything he had on me. Folks speculated on whether he might marry again, but my parents…” Her mouth curved with a reflective smile. “They loved each other in a way that goes on forever.”
Then, gathering herself, she flicked her reins and her horse jumped into a canter.
Dex stood up in the stirrups. “Hey! Wait up.”
“You’re doing fine.” A warm breeze carried her words back to him. “By Monday I’ll have you giving the Lone Ranger a run for his money.”
“If my rear end survives that long,” he muttered, wincing as he adjusted in the saddle again.
She circled back. “Click your tongue. Dig your heels. It’s easy.”
“Compound fractures aren’t easy.”
She skirted around his horse. “It’ll take us till Christmas to get there if we don’t get a move on.”
“Get where?”
“My special place.”
She slapped his horse’s rump and when she cantered off again, this time his horse naturally followed. As he jostled up and down and around, the urge to yank on the reins and plead, “Whoa, girl,” gradually faded. After a couple minutes of mountain air hitting his face, some primitive part of his brain actually began to get it…this different kind of speed…the steady beat of hooves. Hell, he could almost imagine embracing this new type of freedom. But what he wanted to capture most was riding on up ahead of him.
Where and what
was Shelby’s special place?
Soon her bay pulled up beside a monster tree. She jumped out of the saddle and threw the reins over a low-lying branch. When he caught up, she put out her arms.
“Want me to help you down?” she asked.
“I’m not completely helpless.”
Shoring himself up, he took a breath then swung a leg over and down onto the ground. He even managed to get his other foot out of its stirrup without falling flat on his face. He was about to fling his reins over the same branch as she had, when his horse reared then bolted off. To the sound of retreating hoofs pounding the dirt, he scratched his head.
“Something I said?”
“She’ll be back.” Shelby leaned against the tree trunk.
“I don’t know. I get the feeling she’s just not that into me.”
As Shelby laughed, she slid a boot up behind her and set the leather sole to rest on the trunk. She wore a pair of soft blue jeans and a pink gingham shirt that complemented her shape and brought out her natural luster better than any gown she could ever wear—and that was saying something. Joining her, he linked his arms around her waist and stole from her the kiss he’d been burning to take.
She tasted of lemonade and smelled like spring flowers. With the air so clean and a rustle of leaves the only noise, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be, of anything he’d rather do, than make love to Shelby here under the branches of this big old tree.
When his lips slipped away from hers, he felt drunk on the satisfaction coursing through his veins. He swept the tip of his nose around hers then captured her mouth again. By the time he released her, her hands were bunched high on his chest and her breathing was heading toward labored.
She smiled dreamily into his eyes. “It would appear that riding agrees with you.”
“Your lips agree with me.” He nuzzled the scented sweep of her neck. “As well as the rest of your body, especially in those killer jeans.”
“They’re work pants.”
“They’re sure working on me.”
He brought her closer until her front was pressed flat against his and her arms were coiled around his neck. “Just how long has it been since that night we made love?”