Once Hitched Twice Shy

by Kimberly Krey

  “Skinny Alex, here,” he said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to wave. Something about the kid reminded Mia of her younger brother. Perfect haircut, nice clothes. Great manners. Probably a straight-A student just like him.

  “And we have a couple more ranch hands with us in the back of the truck.” She panned out to catch Connor and Bill in the flatbed, air rustling through their hair. “Aren’t they all handsome?

  “Well, today we’re headed to do something very special. Let me give you a hint: It’s something women tend to enjoy more than men. But despite that, today’s suggestion was brought to us by none other than these fine-looking ranch hands. You might be surprised to hear that it will take place outside of the ranch, but you’ll see why soon enough. Stay tuned …”

  She put her phone back in her bag and sighed as she caught herself wondering if she’d received a text. Of course she hadn’t—not from the person she’d been thinking about. Hunter didn’t even have her number. But Mia wished he did. She could hardly believe how good it was to have these feelings again. Butterflies swirling in her tummy every time she thought of him. Of that kiss.

  She wondered if he’d show up today sometime. Maybe he was tending to the ranch this morning, and he’d show up at the house later. Thoughts of the house pulled her mind in a new direction. “I wish my grandpa could have come today,” she said to Karen.

  Karen nodded, squinting against the sun pouring in through the windshield. “Me too. It seems like he’s getting better, though. His face had a lot more color today. Did you notice that?”

  Mia thought back on their conversation at breakfast. The gleam in his eyes as he reached his glass of OJ across the table, offering a toast to a successful filming span while she and Karen were here. Mia had noticed the color in his cheeks as well. “Yeah,” she agreed. “I think you’re right. And he didn’t cough at all last night. Not that I heard, anyway.”

  Karen nodded. “I wonder what Hunter’s doing today.”

  Mia tried for a second to think of a response. She finally decided on a simple me too, but Alex spoke over her.

  “Hunter’s a loner.”

  Karen and Mia turned toward him, ready for a piece to the Hunter puzzle.

  “He is?” Mia prompted.

  Alex nodded. “Yep. Calls us the three amigos since we’re always hanging out together, working together. But if we’re the three amigos, he’s the Lone Ranger. Likes to be off on his own, that one.”

  “Hmm.” Gramps’s words came back to her. Everyone has a story to tell. A fire or two they’ve had to fight. Some of us are left a little more wary than others. Mia couldn’t escape the impression that Hunter had been through something that’d left him more scarred than he wanted to admit. Something greater than the differences he had with his father.

  She glanced back to Alex, inwardly testing herself. Did she dare ask about him and discover what it was he hadn’t revealed? No, she decided. Not yet, anyway. For now, she’d try to focus on the footage they’d get at their next location. With the guys in tow, the activity they had in mind was sure to be an adventure.

  It wasn’t long before they arrived at their destination: the Country Store. No fancy name was required for a place so practical; at least, that’s what Bill told her.

  With the three amigos lined up outside the non-automatic doors (the place must be ancient), Mia thought about her introduction. Karen gave her the nod, and Mia pulled in a deep breath while nodding back. At last she lifted her thumb.

  “Well, howdy, y’all! We’re coming at you from the Country Store. During the intro, I gave a tiny hint as to what we might be about today, but I thought I’d let these muscular masses of manliness tell you just what that is.”

  She walked along the line of men, patting the chest of each one as she spoke, ending on Connor. “Go ahead, Connor, don’t be shy.”

  He looked at the other guys before eyeing Mia once more. “We thought you ladies should have some proper garb for the job.”

  Mia raised a brow. “Garb?” She turned her attention to Bill next. “Bill, would you be so kind as to elaborate on what your fellow amigo had to say?”

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” Bill crooned, slipping an arm around Mia’s back and eyeing the camera head-on. “We thought you ladies would look mighty fine in some riding jeans and cowgirl boots.”

  “And cowgirl hats, too,” Skinny Alex added.

  Mia nodded, eyeing the hats and boots the men wore before turning back to the camera. “Remember the kitchen scene on Day 1 when Hunter and I did a bit of Try My Life in reverse? Consider this our second swap for the week: a group of men shopping for women’s clothes, which is definitely my day-to-day forte.

  “So what do you at home say? Do these guys have what it takes to keep up with a couple gals at the local country store?” She tilted her head toward the guys, giving them their cue.

  Connor was first to start up, but the others joined in right behind.

  “Guess we’ll find out!”

  Chapter 10

  “We’re coming at you on Day 4 of our week-long job site in Blue Sky Country. This is probably the happiest you’ve seen me since I came to the ranch. I mean, I can hardly keep the grin off my face! Why, you ask?” Mia hitched an arm around Gramps’s back. “Because I have one of my favorite people by my side: the man responsible for Try My Life’s visit to Montana, Mr. Wayne here. AKA the coolest cowboy in town.”

  The ranch hands cheered their approval from the side of the barn.

  “Go Wayne!”

  “Woot, woot!”

  “Wayne’s the man!”

  Mia tried not to get caught up in the fact that one of the ranch hands was missing. Again. The one who happened to be occupying a large portion of her thoughts since their kiss the other night. “So, Gramps, you’re feeling better now, right?”

  “You betcha! And I’m ready to spend some time with my grand-girl.” He planted a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Aw …” Mia said through a grin.

  “So sweet,” Karen added behind the lens.

  Mia led Gramps toward the side of the barn where the ranch hands stood. “Today, the lovely Karen and I are sporting our sweet new country duds.” Mia turned to the side, posing in her cowgirl boots and hat. She waved to her friend. “Karen, step away from the tripod for a moment and come show the folks at home what you’re wearing.”

  Karen stepped reluctantly in front of the camera and did a quick twirl, making her light, country skirt fly like a ballerina’s.

  “What do you think, Gramps?”

  “I’d say you two look just beautiful. The boys did right.”

  Mia chuckled. “The boys did right, eh?” She turned back to the camera. “Since Karen doesn’t have to do as much of the dirty work, she opted for her lovely skirt. Me, on the other hand,” she said, slapping the new denim jeans she wore, “I need something a little more … durable today. Tell them why, Gramps.”

  He chuckled under his breath. “You’re, uh … going to be shoveling …”

  Bill piped up over him. “She’s going to be flinging sh—”

  Mia pressed a quick finger against Bill’s lips. “Remember we’ve got little ones watching …”

  His face reddened. “I meant crap. You’re going to be shoveling crap out of the barn stalls, which means you’ll have to switch out your new cowgirl boots for some old mucking boots until we’re done.”

  She followed him along the side of the barn, wondering for roughly the twentieth time that day whether Hunter would make an appearance. She hadn’t seen him since their kiss, which was two full days ago. She couldn’t help but think he was dodging her on purpose.

  Suddenly Karen caught her attention by stepping to the side of the tripod, her eyes widening in question. “Still filming,” she hissed.

  “Oh, sorry. I was slightly horrified by the idea of shoveling poopy all day. My mind started drifting to thoughts of pedicures, manicures, massages …” She let the last word fade off and sighed.
“But, alas, I must suck it up and get to work. There’s just one thing you boys forgot to grab at the country store yesterday.”

  Connor looked perplexed. “What’s that?”

  She waved a hand in front of her face and grimaced. “Nose plugs.”

  They moved on with the segment, but Mia’s mind shifted right back to Hunter. Perhaps she’d seek him out herself. She couldn’t let him kiss her—especially a kiss like that—and then walk away.

  Hunter perked up as he heard the boys approach in the pickup. He’d kept himself busy the entire day. Busy working hard and busy avoiding the recording crew and their cronies. A good amount of doubt and guilt told Hunter he was making a mistake by not pursuing Mia. But when that happened, he’d recall the day Vanessa left him for her career. Left like he was no more of a consideration than the other items she’d left behind: bedroom furniture, lamps, and the ring he’d bought for their engagement. All things she no longer cared about.

  That memory alone was enough to make him wish he hadn’t laid hands (or lips) on Mia. Sure, Wayne’s granddaughter seemed to have a lot more heart than the woman who’d left him, but Mia and Vanessa shared some crucial (and frankly frightening) qualities: drive, charisma, beauty, and talent that could take them wherever they wanted to go.

  It was odd, though. Since sharing that kiss with Mia, Hunter couldn’t summon the sort of ache that memories of Vanessa used to bring. He even tried to feel that ache while baling hay. From beginning to bitter end, he’d replayed his relationship, engagement, wedding, and the moment he discovered her infidelity with the one man who could further her career in a blink. It hadn’t felt good, reliving it all, but something had changed in him. Perhaps time was finally doing its job—healing his wounds.

  No need to go making new ones.

  The sound of the back door swinging open interrupted his thoughts. But it was the unmistakable voice he heard along with it that had his heart thumping in double rhythm—Mia’s.

  Hunter shot up from the recliner, rested his dinner on the side table (two microwaved burritos on a paper plate), and came to a stand. He straightened his shirt, raked a hand through his hair, and contemplated running into his room and closing the door. The ranch hands shared the upstairs kitchen with him, after all, and he was in no mood for socializing.

  Perhaps they weren’t here for dinner. Maybe they’d all just go downstairs and spend an evening in the large family room. Watching movies or playing games.

  “… Think we’ve got some paper plates in here somewhere,” Bill said from the dining area.

  Hunter glanced down at his suddenly sorry-looking dinner, sitting beneath the yellowed glow of lamplight. One wall separated him from the group, and he couldn’t help but wish he could disappear.

  “Is Hunter here?” he heard Mia ask.

  “Who knows?” Connor replied.

  In an odd spurt of desperation, Hunter darted to the corner of the room. Hunching to the ground, he wedged in between the high end of the couch and the end table. The carpet strands were coarse against his arms as he held his breath, hoping he’d go unnoticed.

  “He’s not in his room,” Alex said, his voice carrying from down the hall.

  A series of soft-padded footsteps sounded close by.

  Hunter released a shallow breath and clenched his eyes shut. Don’t let them see me. Don’t let them see me. Don’t …

  “Whose burritos are these?”

  Crap! Mia had found his meal. Hunter’s eyes flicked open. A gold lamp cord glared back. Silently, Hunter reached for it. At least he’d have a reason for being here if they spotted him.

  “Must be Hunter’s,” Alex replied. “They’re still warm.”

  Hunter ground his teeth. Dang that kid. Touching his food with his nasty hands.

  “Pizza’s getting cold,” Connor called from the dining area.

  More footsteps treading over carpet, and finally the sound of them entering the tiled kitchen area.

  Whew! He could finally breathe. Escape through the front door. Be left alone for the night.

  Hunter wriggled out of his hiding spot with a few quiet grunts. Once it looked like he’d cleared the table, he moved to straighten up. He wasn’t sure which came first: the loud-sounding whack of his skull against wood, or the sharp pain that dug through the back of his scalp. Both told him he’d misjudged the small space.

  Hunter rubbed the aching spot with a groan, his flight temporarily thwarted, and considered crawling back under the space to pass out for the night. Food and flight or lie down and die—those were his options.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Well, if it isn’t the long-lost cowboy.”

  His eyes widened. Mia had stayed behind.

  “What exactly are you doing?”

  “Um …”

  “Hiding?”

  Hunter shook his head, came to a stand, and cleared his throat. “The cord came unplugged and I was just fixing it.”

  Their eyes met in time for him to see Mia’s expression change. From inquisitive to amused. “Fixing it? As in plugging it back in?”

  Why did he feel like such a moron in front of this woman?

  “So why didn’t you just answer us when we called for you?” she asked.

  There was no answer for that. None. So he tried a trick his father always used. “How’s it going? With the recording and all that?”

  Mia leaned a hand on the edge of the lounge chair. Two blonde, damp-looking braids hung at either side of her face. She wore a cowgirl hat, a tank top, a light country skirt, and a good-looking pair of boots, too. Hints of clean soap fused with her usual coconut scent. But when he caught her expression, Hunter realized she wore something else—a challenge, right there on her pretty face.

  “Are you going to join us for pizza, Hunter, or just hide under the table all night?”

  “Pizza? Man, that sounds good. Sure, I’ll join you.”

  She glanced at the paper plate on the side table. Then back at him. His pulse sped. “You mean you’ll give up the gourmet meal you already slaved over?” She picked up the plate and inspected it further.

  She’d spoken in sarcasm about the burritos, but between Mia and the microwaved dish, there was no question as to what (or whom) he craved most.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said with a nod.

  “Okay,” Mia said. “Let’s go.” With that, she headed into the kitchen, carrying the plate as if she were dangling a carrot in front of his nose. Only she didn’t realize she was the carrot—or more accurately—the forbidden piece of fruit who’d stepped into his life.

  Chapter 11

  “Look who’s joining the party, folks,” Mia announced as she led Hunter into the kitchen. Triumph burned warm in her chest as the reluctant cowboy followed. The Lone Ranger. Not on her watch. Hunter could play the solitary card on his own time. Tonight, he owed her some answers.

  The back door swung open, and Gramps walked in, a basket of produce in hand. “Got some fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and cukes to make us a salad,” he said, setting the items on the counter. He was just like Mom, tagging a fresh salad onto every meal. It made her feel like she’d come home in a way. To a place she belonged.

  Mia hurried over to greet him, setting Hunter’s poor excuse for a meal next to the produce, and gave her grandpa a hug. “Thanks, Gramps. I bet Hunter will help me put this salad together while the men wash up.” She threw a quick look over her shoulder to ensure Hunter hadn’t already escaped.

  Gramps turned his eyes to him as well, and the two exchanged a look she couldn’t dissect.

  “Great,” Bill mumbled. “We have to wash our hands.”

  “I’m going to change my clothes, too,” Alex said, tearing off toward the stairwell. The other two weren’t far behind.

  Luckily, while the men were picking up the pizza, Mia and Karen had been able to sneak in showers. Good thing, considering how messy the job had been. Scooping poop worked a whole lot more muscle than scooping ice cream. But it hadn’t been bad. Compared to cat or dog feces, th
e smell of manure was low on the gag scale. And thanks to Gramps, Mia had been able to share a few fun details she hadn’t known herself. Like the fact that horses produce up to fifty pounds of manure a day. The ranch hands had also contributed, her favorite part being when they listed off nicknames for horse manure: buns, horse pucky, and her favorite, road apples.

  Karen rested the pizza boxes in the oven and set it on warm. “I’m going to go call Eddie,” she said, leaving Mia in the kitchen with just Hunter and Gramps.

  Mia dug through the basket and pulled out the green leaf lettuce.

  Hunter stepped over to the sink, washing his hands as she cut the lettuce. “I’ll do the tomatoes,” he offered. For someone who was a loner in nature, Hunter was a good enough sport. Participating when push came to shove. She liked that about him. That he seemed willing to bend.

  “Guess I’ll peel the cucumbers and we’ll be all set,” Gramps said.

  Hunter mentioned how much better Gramps looked, and soon an easy conversation flowed between them. What needed to be done in the hay fields. The mechanic scheduled to come out and fix the swather. And something about a pack of coyotes causing trouble a few ranches west.

  Mia listened, enjoying the way the two seemed to read one another’s minds. There was a mutual respect between them, an undeniable admiration, and she found herself—once again—thinking of how very glad she was that her grandpa had someone like Hunter. Still, the thought gave life to a question bubbling inside her: Just why was he dodging her? It wasn’t that Hunter didn’t mesh well with others, with as close as he and Gramps were. And though he’d agreed to come have dinner with the group, it was obvious he’d rather spend his time alone, parked out on his lounge chair.

  “That’s enough talk about work,” Gramps said. “Why don’t you fill Hunter in on what you’ve been doing?”

  Mia glanced up from her task of arranging the freshly cut veggies along the edge of the salad bowl. The ranch hands had filed back in, along with Karen. The group was seated around the table, engaged in a conversation of their own. She turned to Hunter, pulling in a breath as their eyes met. “On Day 3 we shot from the Country Store, where the boys helped us pick out some new duds, as Connor calls them. Then on Day 4—today—we shoveled crap from the horse stalls. It was quite the adventure. Think the viewers will get a kick out of it.”