SHE WAS AN apt pupil, if a little out of practice. It didn’t hurt that Grace’s horse, Molly, was tolerant and patient, which, of course, was why Slater had picked her for his wife.
“Tighten the cinch again,” Drake advised. “Horses are pretty smart. They’ll sometimes take a breath and hold it so the saddle’s loose when they let it out. Never underestimate an animal’s intelligence. She’s very amiable, but not all horses are the same. Always check your saddle twice.”
“She’s sweet.” Luce stroked her silky neck.
“Remember, you’re practicing on this horse, but another one might be totally different. Never presume it’s going to go well if you don’t know each other.”
Slater’s horse, Heck, wouldn’t let her within ten feet of him. He was a beautiful horse but gave feisty a new meaning. Drake had helped Red break him, and he’d been hell on wheels. Even now, Drake was cautious around him and had ordered Ryder to leave his stall to more experienced hands. Red could do it, but Ryder couldn’t handle that animal and he was a head taller than Luce.
“She likes you,” he commented. “Don’t get the idea that Smoke would ever allow you to get this close.”
“He already has.”
Drake thought fainting might severely damage his male image, so he didn’t. “What?”
Luce acted nonchalant about it, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. “He came up to me. I touched him and that was it. He’s as curious about me as I am about him and the rest of the horses. And he knows I’m not there to do them any harm. I don’t carry a gun or ride a big horse. I just want to watch them. I walk only so close, and then I sit down and leave them alone as I make notes.”
He actually took off his hat and threw it on the ground. “You touched a wild stallion? Are you loco?”
Luce had the nerve to look offended. “Hey, I was sitting there writing and suddenly realized he was right behind me. He sniffed my hair and I held up my hand. Here it is.” She offered Exhibit A, palm up. “He didn’t bite it off or anything. He smelled it and went on his way. I’m harmless. Give him credit for knowing that. You’ve already seen that he’s gotten used to me.”
Her logic worked, but she also needed to understand that they weren’t talking about the placid mare he’d just helped her saddle. “He’s a wild animal, and he’s a really big one. Sharp teeth and hooves. There are bigger critters than us he wouldn’t hesitate to go after, like that cougar.”
“I didn’t go up to him! I turned around and he was right there. Like I said, I was focusing on my notes and I had no idea he was so close.”
“You are the greenest greenhorn I’ve met. That little interaction is exactly why you aren’t going anywhere without me.” He retrieved his hat and plopped it on his head.
She considered him through slightly narrowed eyes. “I seem to have survived for lo these twenty-six years. I promise you, negotiating multiple lanes of traffic in LA during rush hour is a lot more dangerous than anything you can serve up here, and I’ve done that many times. Are you always going to be so dictatorial?”
“I’m going to be protective, you can count on that. Now, get your very enticing behind on that horse and let’s go for a relaxing ride. I’m not helping you mount this time. You work that out for yourself.” He did check the saddle very quickly. She’d have to go solo someday, but if he was there, anyway, he might as well make sure she was as safe as possible.
She glared at him. “No problem.”
She did a fair job of it, although part of her success was due to the patient horse. Starburst led the way, Molly followed and Drake was finally able to breathe in a deep lungful of the evening air and relax.
“Next valley over,” he said. “It’s a beautiful place, but I’ve never understood why the original homesteaders chose that spot to settle. The cabin’s been there a long, long time. Since shortly after the Civil War. I’m guessing they had sheep, because you can’t graze cattle there. I also think that for whatever reason, the guy wanted to be as obscure as he could. Red tells me the legend is that he came to town once a month, bought the essentials—flour, coffee and sugar—but otherwise no one saw him. Everyone thought he had something to hide. Eventually, he stopped showing up and they found the place abandoned, the door still open. No one knows if he went away voluntarily or suffered some severe misfortune. There were no papers besides the deed, but no remains, either.”
“Did anyone else ever live there? Lettie mentioned that the property taxes hadn’t been paid in years.”
“Yeah, there was another recluse there for a while, but I don’t know much about him. And he was long gone by the time we came along.”
“So the real story is about the original homesteader who mysteriously disappeared...”
“Yeah. Naturally, as kids we rode over, hoping it would be haunted. Unfortunately not. Maybe Slate will get lucky with his cameras. He’s putting it in the documentary, and that might help Lettie Arbuckle’s plan. If anyone can pull it off, it would be her, but I still think the red tape involved will be prohibitive.”
“There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned ghost story to charm a girl.” Luce was easier with the horse now, her hands more relaxed on the reins. “Scary. In a romantic way, I mean.”
“Well, I strive to be ever the romantic. Feel free to fling yourself into my arms anytime.” He glanced over at her. “However...all ghost hunting so far has proved fruitless, so maybe neither of us should get our hopes up.”
“I’ve flung myself into your arms already—without a ghost.”
“And I loved every minute of it.”
Luce had the best laugh. Light and feminine. “You did?”
“Like you didn’t know that.”
The breeze ruffled her hair, and her smile held a hint of mischief. “I might have noticed it. That aside, you really think Mrs. Arbuckle is being too ambitious? I want to be sure I’ve got all my facts straight.”
Oh, yes, her paper. He rode along, slowly, although he could tell that Starburst would’ve preferred a faster pace. “Containing the horses isn’t going to be simple.”
“Very few things in life are simple, cowboy.”
“A night like this is.” His smile was genuine. “An evening ride with a pretty girl, a fresh breeze, the mountains framing a spectacular sunset... This is a simple joy. Harry said something about steaks for dinner, along with her famous scalloped potatoes. Another simple joy.”
“Is there anything Harry makes that isn’t famous?” Luce tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She really was sitting her horse more comfortably, not thinking about it so much.
“No,” he admitted. “Some people are born to create wonderful paintings. Some are destined to compose music that’s listened to and admired for centuries. She has a talent for making fantastic food and running a household the way a general might direct a battle plan. It doesn’t hurt that she and my mother are like sisters. My mother, to her credit, is willing to step back and let Harry run the show. Harry, to her credit, has always kept her nose and her opinions out of any parenting decisions unless asked. I see that now as an adult, but I didn’t notice it as a kid. Even when you asked her directly, tried to get her involved, she’d say, ‘I think that needs to be settled between you and your mother.’ She wasn’t opposed to letting any of us know if we were out of line, but she didn’t meddle.”
“And when she was finished telling you to smarten up, she gave you a cookie.” Luce smiled.
“Usually,” he agreed, since she was right. “Or two. Sometimes a slice of pie if Mace didn’t get there first. He’s quite the chowhound.”
“My impression is that he works as hard as you and Slater do, so that might be the secret to the male Carson persona. Hard work, which equals being perpetually hungry.”
“My dad was no slouch, either.” He pointed. “The only real entrance to the valley is that narrow corridor
up ahead. That’s problem one for Lottie’s relocation plan.”
* * *
THE VALLEY WAS as beautiful as Drake had promised.
Steep, green, with a meandering stream running through, it was sheltered by a towering rock wall to one side. Luce immediately thought that if solitude was what you wanted, this would be the place to go. There wasn’t a dramatic mountain view, but there was plenty of privacy.
No wonder Smoke brought his band of horses here for the winter. The storms coming in from the west probably didn’t hit this spot as fiercely. She’d run the weather models when she’d embarked on this scientific journey, doing her best to understand how the habitat worked.
She wasn’t entirely joking when she said, “I see why people might think this place is haunted. It feels strange, a bit surreal.”
The cabin itself was decrepit, a relic of the long-gone past. The ancient logs and a rickety front porch had started to deteriorate, but the chimney looked sound, and there were the ruins of a barn. The last time someone had lived here was more than a few decades ago.
Drake didn’t disagree with her. “It’s a hidden gem. That makes Mrs. A-C’s plan both good and bad. People will love that deserted old cabin and the grazing wild horses, but getting them in here is almost impossible if they aren’t riding. There’s no road, and I don’t want one. It would have to go across Carson property.”
“It doesn’t have to be a road,” Luce reasoned. “Maybe just a trail—a ride to a haunted valley. Toss in a visit to the vineyard, and you’ll really have something.” She paused, her mind moving at warp speed. “Do you see the state agreeing to open a park? I don’t know how these things work.”
He’d relaxed visibly, out there in the open spaces. The thought of Drake Carson walking into a corporate office for a meeting was practically incomprehensible; he was meant for this life. Glimmering Western sunsets and the soft whisper of the breeze ruffling the aspen leaves—that suited him so much better than skyscrapers and concrete ever could.
Luce was starting to feel that maybe it was the same for her.
He shrugged, his answer carefully considered, as usual. “I suggest we wait to see what Lettie finds out,” he began. “That woman knows how to get things done.” He smiled, the wind ruffling his hair. “She reminds me of my mother, but with a lot less tact. They’re quite a team—one of them will pour you a cup of tea and, while you’re distracted, the other will run over you with a bulldozer. In any case, they almost always get whatever they’re after.”
In Luce’s admittedly limited experience, that assessment was dead-on.
“Big, strong men should step back, huh?”
“Big, strong men should run for their lives.” Drake grinned. “You do realize you fall into the same category as my mother and Lettie. The Unstoppable Female.”
She silenced him by holding up one hand. “Pardon my grammar, but you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, cowpoke. Wait until you meet my sister and mother. Whoa, you’re going to be in for an experience.” She pretended to assess his appearance. “You might have to get your hair cut,” she speculated.
He looked endearingly perplexed. “My hair? What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Nothing, as far as I’m concerned, but Mom and Beth are big on making people over. Watch out, that’s all I’m saying. If you don’t, you might find yourself in a Beverly Hills salon, getting highlights or a spray tan.”
“That’ll be the day,” he drawled.
“Oh, it’s very LA,” she told him solemnly. “Guys even get facials.”
“Not this guy, ma’am.”
“I’m joking,” she said. “Beth and my mom wouldn’t dream of trying to improve you.” She erupted into laughter. “Not that I’m saying you’re perfect or anything.”
Drake gave her a mock glare, then he laughed, too. A moment later, his expression was somber again. “Listen, couldn’t we just get married at the ranch? Say, on the ridge where you and I first met? A minister and a few witnesses, and we’re in business. Mace and Slater could be there, and Slater’s crew could take the pictures. Sound good?” He didn’t wait for her answer, which was convenient, because she didn’t have one ready. “That way, you’ll have a wedding and I’ll survive the ceremony and the reception. We can feed each other cake and fly out for our honeymoon.”
Actually, Luce rather liked the idea of a simple, rustic wedding. She wasn’t really the fuss-and-ruffles type, though she did want the day to be special. Not quite as “special” as their mothers were gearing up for, however. “Do you mean it, Drake? Because if you do, my sister would come out here in a heartbeat to be my maid of honor.”
“Oh, believe me, I mean it.”
If there was one thing she knew about Drake, it was that he said what he thought and thought about what he said; his opinions were never unconsidered. So she did the same. “I’m in favor of something romantic, memorable and uncomplicated,” she said honestly.
He brightened. “You are?”
“Sure.” Luce nodded. She was fairly certain her mother would be disappointed; Dorothy Hale was probably planning an event more appropriate to the gardens of Buckingham Palace than the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. Her father wouldn’t be a problem, and Beth would be on her side.
Their special day would be lovely.
“I know you wanted to meet Mom and Dad before the news got out,” she went on. “We could call them, if you like.”
“Or,” he countered, “we could see if Tate Calder or Tripp Galloway can find the time to fly us out there to pick up your sister. Think she could talk your folks into taking her to the airfield? That way, at least, I could shake hands with your dad and give your mom a chance to look me over, make sure I don’t have three heads or anything.”
Meeting her parents in person, prior to the wedding, seemed more important to Drake than it was to her, but she thought she understood his reasons. Like his brothers, he’d been raised rough-and-tumble, but with very good manners.
This, she suspected, was what he thought his father would want him to do. It touched her heart, the realization that he still missed Zeke Carson, after all these years, still cared about doing what would be the right thing in his eyes.
She spoke softly. “Your dad would be wildly proud of you no matter what.”
Drake didn’t respond to that. “Can Beth manage to get your folks to the airfield or not?” he asked.
That was truly a laughable question. “Beth’s been twisting Dad around her little finger, as they say, since the day she was born. It’s impressive to watch her in action. My mother and I just look at each other and shake our heads. Dad’s no fool. He knows exactly what she’s up to, but he can’t say no.”
“Talk to her. Choose a date for the wedding. I’ll see what I can work out on this end.”
They’d have a romantic story to tell their children, that was for sure. “I’ll call her as soon as we get back.”
He squinted at the sky. “Speaking of which, we’d better start back. I’m not Red, but it smells like rain to me and there are clouds rolling in. Looks like a spring storm brewing up there. You think you can handle a slightly faster pace?”
Luce nodded, trying to ignore the small flicker of panic. “I’m going to have to sooner or later, I suppose.”
They almost made it before the rain came. When he lifted her from her horse, they were both laughing and soaking wet. Drake didn’t let her go but smoothed her damp hair away from her face and kissed her. He said, “You did well, cowgirl. While we wait for the rain to stop, I’ll show you how to unsaddle your horse and brush her down.”
Facetiously, she answered, “I’m not sure California girls do that.”
“If I’m not mistaken, you’re about to become a Wyoming girl. Now, pay attention, and if you catch on right quick, I might even help you out of your wet clothes when we get int
o the house.”
Would she ever be able to resist that sexy smile? Somehow she doubted it. “You have a deal, cowboy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THEY WERE EXACTLY three minutes behind schedule when the plane touched down and taxied across the tarmac. In Drake’s opinion, traveling by private jet beat the commercial airlines anytime—no security hassles, no lost baggage and no layover. The flight had been smooth, due to a high pressure system coming in, and the turnaround would be quick.
It had taken the better part of a week to coordinate everybody’s schedules, but he considered it well worth the time and effort.
Luce’s sister and father had arrived in a high-end luxury car that had a pedigree that would’ve impressed the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. His own truck regularly smelled like dried mud and horse, but no one needed to know that, since he had just flown in on a private plane. He’d opted for a regular shirt and slacks, and to his surprise, Luce had told him to go change.
“Be yourself,” she’d said before they left the house. “Wear jeans and boots. Drake, you’re comfortable with who you are. That’s really all that matters. My parents will respect that. It won’t be news to them that you live on a ranch.”
So he kept the nice shirt and gratefully exchanged the slacks and loafers for jeans and boots.
Takeoff was a little turbulent, but Tripp had mentioned it might be. They flew out of it quickly and the trip was smooth from that point on. Luce didn’t talk much, but he sensed that she was nervous.
Once they disembarked, Luce rushed across the tarmac to hug a woman who had to be her mother, given the resemblance. Mrs. Hale was expensively dressed in a long white silk shirt and dark pants, her blond hair cut at chin level. Dangling earrings, high heels and a fancy leather handbag completed the overall image of sophistication. There was a second woman, Luce’s sister no doubt, a much younger version of the first.
Both were delighted to see Luce, and there was a lot of happy chatter.
Luce, in comparison to her mother and sister, was different, more the outdoors type.
Always a Cowboy Page 21