“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Puck didn’t hang around your farm all these years, living over the garage, only to train horses. Hell, for a time there you didn’t even have horses.”
“You’re reading way too much into this friendship between Mama and Puck. He’s part of the family, like a favorite uncle.”
“Right.”
And she was right, she felt sure of it. But now that Tanner’s brain was homed in on romance, it seemed a good time to finesse a strategy about Savannah and Nathan’s wedding. To make him see they were the ones who belonged together. Then she wouldn’t have to spend eleven more days with him, trying to keep him and Savannah apart.
Why didn’t the idea thrill her as much as she thought it would? She took in his strong shoulders as he brushed Silver Bell and instantly knew why. She liked spending time with him. Looked forward to him dropping in every day and spicing things up. Good and bad. Not only was he mouthwateringly gorgeous, he was loyal and protective, too. It had been a long time since she’d met someone as protective as herself.
Heck, that’s what had brought them together in the first place. She was protecting Savannah and he was protecting Nathan. Too bad he was so misguided.
He said, “You going to stand there gawking at me or brush Silver Bell?”
She blushed, feeling the heat pool in her cheeks. Dang. She started brushing, keeping her face turned away from Tanner. She certainly didn’t need him thinking she had been gawking at him…even if she had. “About the wedding…what if Savannah and Nathan are meant to be and we louse it up?”
“What brought that on?”
“Mama and Puck. You seem to think they belong together, so why not Savannah and Nathan? And if they are meant to be together, we’ll feel terrible about breaking them up. We’ll need years of therapy to get over it. They probably don’t have many therapists in Alaska and they’re probably booked up forever with so many dark days. And Savannah and Nathan will be miserable and never talk to us again.”
“I’m sure there are enough therapists in Alaska, not that I’ll need one.” He looked at her over Silver Bell’s back. “I’m just watching out for Nate. I owe him. He always tried to smooth things out between me and Dad.” An easy smile suddenly slid across his face. “Plus, Nate’s one hell of a nice guy. I don’t want him to get into something that will end in a mess, and that’s what will happen if he and Savannah wed.”
“But Savannah really loves Nathan. That’s why she wants to marry him. It’s not like he’s spoiling her with big expensive gifts to turn her head. They truly get along well. Nathan dancing on the bar proved it. Ever consider that?”
“What I think is, my levelheaded brother dancing on that bar proved he’s lost his ever-loving mind. This insane attraction between him and Savannah makes as much sense as this attraction between you and me.”
Tanner’s head snapped up. Charity’s jaw dropped. Their gazes locked tighter than a lid to a honey jar.
He looked at Charity across the back of Silver Bell. “Not…not that I’m attracted. Or you’re attracted. Or we’re attracted.”
Was he conjugating a verb or what? Was that perspiration on his forehead?
“I was only making a point, that’s all…about people not fitting together because of things in their lives keeping them apart and—”
A car horn blasted loud enough to rattle the rafters. Charity let out a chuckle and said, “Tell me, oh Swami of the High Skies, how much did you pay that person out there to show up at this moment?”
Whoever it was, Charity didn’t know whether to bless him for interrupting a sticky situation or to wring his neck for the same reason. What had Tanner been thinking that had made him say what he had?
TANNER WIPED HIS shirtsleeve across his sweaty brow. Saved by the horn. What the hell had made him say he was attracted to Charity? Then he considered that shining red hair, those alluring lips that had driven him nuts last night, and those green eyes, full of life and energy. Charity MacKay had a slice of tenacity a yard wide and a mile long right up her spine.
Attracted to her? What man wouldn’t be?
The horn blasted again and Charity put down her brush and headed for the entrance. “We better see what’s going on out there or they’ll be honking till midnight.”
He followed Charity out of the stable, both of them quiet as tombstones. What could he say? I apologize for the attack of temporary insanity that seems to be running through my family these days?
Tanner halted behind her at the entrance as Savannah pulled her new cherry-red BMW convertible to a gravel-spitting stop by the water trough. She spread her arms wide in the air. “Isn’t this the greatest car ever? Whoopee!”
Charity smacked her palm to her forehead. “What are you doing? We can’t afford this car. We can’t even afford the tires on it. Take it back. Hurry.”
Savannah beamed. “Don’t go getting your panties in a twist, sister dear. Sweet Nathan gave it to me. It’s a wedding present. Have you ever seen anything so awesome?”
She revved the engine. “I’ve got to get back to Nathan, then I have to get to work. We’re doing a road trip to Lexington tonight to see how this little treasure performs.”
She patted the steering wheel. “Nathan sent me here to pick up that malt stuff.” She eyed Tanner. “Says he wants it now. Another horse isn’t looking so good and two ready to foal. Poor Nathan, he’s going to worry himself into the grave over those horses.”
Charity shook her head. “Some gift.”
“We’re getting married, Charity. This is fun. Marrying is supposed to be fun. Can I have that malt now?”
Charity turned to Tanner. “How about helping me?”
“In a minute.”
She looked at Savannah, then back to Tanner. “I’ll be right back. In a flash. Talk about…the weather.” She scurried into the barn.
Tanner rested his arm on the top of the windshield. A BMW convertible? No wonder Savannah wanted to marry Nathan. He said, “Just like old times, huh?”
“Old times?” She shook her head. “I wasn’t engaged to Nathan then.”
“I mean the joy-riding, the excitement, the fun.” He patted the car. “What about going flying with me tomorrow? Remember when we used to do that and talk about all the places we wanted to visit, the adventures we wanted to have?”
Her whole face lit up. This was a good thing. The wedding would be history by noon; look out Indiana Jones, here comes Savannah MacKay.
“You’re going to get the biplane out of the barn? Nathan’s kept it covered for so many years. I adore that plane.”
Tanner ran his hand around the back of his neck. “Hadn’t planned on dragging out the Starduster—” and all its memories “—but if you really want me to and it still runs, why the hell not?”
He grinned, suddenly not feeling as thrilled as he tried to appear. “See you tomorrow. Late afternoon?”
Charity came back with the powder and handed it to Savannah. “Here you are, you can go now.” She looked from Tanner to her sister. “What did you two talk about?”
Savannah laughed. “Tanner’s going to take me flying.” She drove off, waving, sending critters diving for cover.
Tanner nodded at the retreating splash of red. “Tell me again about no expensive gifts and not being spoiled?”
“It’s a wedding gift. Nathan’s allowed to give her a wedding gift, just like she said.”
“He is spoiling her rotten. Big fancy wedding, new car. He can give her anything she wants, and he probably will.”
“She loves him.”
“Or does she love his money and what he can offer her? Her life hasn’t been too cushy around here.” He waved his hand, taking in the house that needed repairs, the rusted car, the cracked driveway.
“Oh, I get it now.” Charity put her hands on her hips. “You don’t want Savannah to marry Nathan because you don’t think she’s good enough for him. That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?”
“Huh? What do you mean? That’s not what I said at all. Spoiling and good enough are two different things.”
“Not if they both center around money.” Her green eyes sparked and her lush lips tightened to a thin line. “You think the lowly MacKays aren’t good enough for the high-and-mighty Davenports because we’re not members of the Horseman’s Club and we don’t have box seats at the Derby and—”
“Who cares?”
“You do.” She tossed her head. “We did have all those things once, Tanner Davenport, and we will again. I swear it.”
He stood his ground. “You know I’m not impressed with that stuff and neither is Nathan. I merely said that—”
“You’re a snob.” She took a step toward him.
He glanced down at his worn jeans and denim shirt and remembered the hole in his left sock. “Me?”
“You think you’re better than my family because we were poor, nearly lost everything and even wore hand-me-downs. You don’t want your brother having anything to do with the MacKays, much less marry one.”
“Enough.” He snatched her up into his arms, surprising the heck out of her and himself, as well. He held her tight as she pushed at his chest, but he wouldn’t let her go till he had his say. “Hear this, Kentucky Girl. Life dumps on everybody one way or another. It’s how you get over it that counts, and you haven’t gotten over one damn thing no matter how many barns you build or horses you have.”
“Easy for a rich boy who’s had everything handed to him to say.”
“You’re pissed off because you work nonstop and life’s passing you by at warp speed.”
Then he kissed her. Hot. Wild. Furiously mad and totally delicious. “That’s because I admire what you’ve done.” I like the way you feel in my arms and I like kissing you and… “But you have a chip on your shoulder the size of North America and you’re not taking it out on me.”
He dropped her butt-first into the trough, splashing water everywhere as her arms and legs flailed about. “And that’s because you need to cool off before you say any more stupid things.”
Hell, he’s the one who needed a dousing of cold water.
Charity stood, stumbling, dripping water, wiping wet hair from her face. Her eyes shot green sparks at him. Was that steam curling from her ears? Or was the steam coming from him?
“I’ll get you for this.”
“You’ll have to dry out first. You and your opinion are all wet and you know it.” He turned for his truck.
“Blast you, Tanner Davenport. You’re not going to get the last word!”
Water hit his back, drenching him from his neck to his knees.
He spun around and faced Charity, eyes lit with fire, bucket in hand, smile of satisfaction on her lips. He took a step toward her and stopped dead. If he took one more step, he wouldn’t stop at all. He’d snatch her back in his arms, head into the barn and kiss her till they both collapsed of exhaustion. She had more spunk, more grit, more natural beauty—in and out of a water trough—than any woman he’d ever met.
Kissing her again would be like pouring gas on a smoldering fire and he didn’t need any explosions right now. Especially from a horse farmer tied to the land, who thought adventure was painting her fences white instead of brown. Dammit all. He needed to get back to Alaska—get back to his piloting business and adventurous life and to forget about Charity MacKay.
He turned for the truck again with, “Keep cool, Tanner Davenport,” ringing in his ears and knowing that when it came to Charity MacKay he’d never feel cool again.
THE FIRST RAYS of light peeked over the six white-and-green copulas of Thistledown stables as Tanner headed for a small barn some distance beyond the others. His boots crushed gravel as spring fog billowed over acres of rolling bluegrass and endless fences. Dogwoods and rhododendron scented the air, birds sang for breakfast, vermin scurried in the brush. Then a vision of Charity MacKay bobbing in the water trough, soaked to the skin and feisty as bacon on a hot griddle, flashed through his mind.
He’d been having these visions of her all night. Not so much the soaked or the feisty ones, but the kissing ones sure as hell kept him awake. Charity was all fire and emotion. All woman. Now what the hell was he going to do about her?
Nothing, if he had an ounce of sense. One—and only one—kiss was his quota. He needed a plan, a How Not to Fall for Charity Plan, because that’s exactly where he was headed. Okay, he had to spend time with her to break up Nathan’s engagement, but he’d simply make that time as short as possible. If he wasn’t with Charity, he couldn’t kiss her and he couldn’t fall for her.
Good plan. Now he could concentrate on taking Savannah flying this afternoon.
The barn door creaked when he pulled it open and he peered into the shadows at the draped gray tarp. He snagged an end, then tugged it off, revealing propeller, cockpit, double wings and tail. He’d bought the Starduster with his own money, fixed her up and painted her yellow with navy trim. He could still hear his father yelling at him to get back to the horses and forget the damn plane. This was a horse farm, not a damn airport. He had work to do and why couldn’t he be more like Nathan…?
Tanner paused for a second. Had he and his father ever agreed on anything? Yeah, him getting the hell off the Ridge. And, Charity MacKay. A woman they had never discussed was the one thing they had in common…besides a dented chin.
Tanner flipped the light switch and shed his jacket, enjoying the morning chill. A touch of Alaska? He smiled at the thought of Grady Donavon—best partner ever, and pictured glaciers, snowcapped mountains, thundering waterfalls tumbling into crystal-clear lakes and mosquitoes that could carry off small children. No place was perfect.
He rolled his sleeves, pulled a KitKat from his pocket and munched on it as he inspected the plane from wings to wheels and everything in between. He added oil, filled tires, greased fittings, checked hoses, then stood back and admired the first plane he ever owned. “Not too bad for an old gal.”
“That’s what I say every morning when I look in the mirror.”
Tanner cut his eyes to the door and Charity framed in the entrance. “Thirty-two isn’t exactly old.”
“It’s no spring chicken, either.”
“Depends on the chicken.” Nice silhouette. Nice shape. He remembered how she felt in his arms and his insides clenched into a hard knot.
She walked in and handed him a wicker basket covered with a red-checked napkin.
“Fried arsenic?”
“Blueberry muffins. I need you to fly me to Davey’s Junction.”
“You need a favor from a snob?”
She shrugged. “Okay, so you’re not a snob. Your hair’s too long. They’d never let you in the Horseman’s Club with that shirt. And you eat out of the refrigerator.”
“Is that an apology?”
“Close as you’ll get since you nearly drowned me. One of Mama’s friends over at the junction has two horses not eating at all. Mama made a yeast concoction that keeps toxins from being digested and that might help. I need to get it to her ASAP.”
Tanner leaned against the fuselage, taking her in, catching a whiff of her unique scent—Kentucky spring and wildflowers all rolled into one. He looked at the basket. He should think about those muffins and not the gal who brought them. Or the gal he kissed last night.
He pulled a muffin from the basket and bit. “Maybe,” he said around a mouthful of instant heaven, “she needs to call the vet.”
Charity gave him a don’t-be-stupid look. “Of course she called the vet. Everyone’s calling vets. Vets are running all over Kentucky like ants over a picnic, but they don’t have any answers and horses are getting real skinny.”
She was making jokes, but he noticed a hint of worry in her eyes. He stopped mid-chew. He didn’t want Charity worrying. He put the muffin back into the basket. She’d done more than enough of that in her life. “What’s going on, Charity?”
She rubbed her forehead. “Beats the heck out of me, but something’s not
right, and it seems to be getting worse. Sick horses aren’t uncommon, but this rash of sick horses we have now is.” She huffed a sigh. “So, you going to fly me or what? Davey’s Junction is almost three hours by car and maybe a half hour as the crow flies.”
“And I’m the crow.” A shaft of sunlight fell across her face, making her more beautiful than ever. This wasn’t part of his Not Falling for Charity Plan. Hell, according to the plan, she wasn’t supposed to be here at all. He gripped the basket with both hands to keep from touching her. He really wanted to touch her. “You could have left earlier this morning, you know.”
“Yeah, well I’m asking now.”
“I’m supposed to take Savannah flying this afternoon. It’s her short day at the office.”
“She can’t make it. One more fitting for her dress. A little wrinkle in the back that I found. I’m very good at finding wrinkles. I knew you’d be here, so I told Mama we’d deliver the feed.”
“At this rate I’ll never get Savannah flying and the wedding will go off without a hitch.”
She tisked. “Hey, something will come up. I’ll help.”
“Like you have so far?”
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking. You haven’t done such a great job, either.”
He looked back to the basket. “And you really expect me to fly to Davey’s Junction for muffins?”
“How about for a fat lip if you say no.” Charity folded her arms and winked. “Besides, there’s apple pie waiting for us.”
“Pie? Help me push the plane out and we’ll fuel up and be on our way.”
“WAIT.” CHARITY’S heart skipped a beat and she could feel little beads of sweat pop out all over her body.
“Now what? You’re kidding about the pie. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“What…what about your other plane, the Cessna, the one with a top. Tops on airplanes are a real good idea, Tanner. Keep everybody inside from falling out.”
“I’ve worked half the day on the Starduster. It’ll be a good test to see how she runs.”
“Test?” Her eyes bulged.
“Besides, biplanes are more fun.”
The Wedding Rescue Page 6