by Liz Isaacson
A long counter ran along her right, and she stepped up to the receptionist there. “I’m looking for the Harvest Days planning meeting?”
The woman smiled. “It’s in room one hundred. Down the hall toward the pool, on your right.”
River’s eyebrows arched up. Pool? Since when did Gold Valley have an indoor pool? Since you left, thirteen years ago, River told herself as she walked down the hall. Her low heels made clicking sounds against the painted concrete, and she found room one hundred easily enough.
She slowed as she approached, popping her head into the room to see if she was the first to arrive. She had left Silver Creek a little early, not able to sit at her desk for one more minute. Counseling was much harder than she’d anticipated, especially with troubled girls who didn’t want to talk.
She was not the first one there.
Dreamy, dark, and delicious Ty Barker sat at the table, and his eyes drank her in when he saw her. “Well, hello there,” he said, every syllable coated in pure Montana cowboy country twang.
River had no choice but to enter the room, which she wanted to do anyway. She schooled her face into what she hoped was an impassive expression as she walked toward him. “Hello yourself.”
“What are you doin’ here?”
She took a seat next to him, lifted her chin, and sniffed. “I volunteered.”
A soft scoff escaped his throat, causing her gaze to shoot in his direction. “You volunteered.” He wasn’t asking, and he looked genuinely shocked, like she’d just told him Santa delivered presents from Mars instead of the North Pole.
“I used to love Harvest Days when I was a kid,” she said by way of explanation. She certainly couldn’t tell him she’d volunteered so she could see him more often. Oh, no. That secret was going to the grave with her.
“It’s not the same as when we were kids,” Ty said.
“No?” River bent to pull a notepad out of her purse. “What’s different?”
“Lots of stuff,” he said.
“There’s still a parade, right?”
“The main one on Saturday morning, yes. And the children’s one is on Wednesday afternoon.”
“Do the kids still get free rodeo tickets if they participate in the parade?”
“Yep.”
“Lots the same then.” She tossed her curled hair over her shoulder and wrote the date at the top of her notebook.
Ty chuckled, the sexy sound causing every defense River had put in place to crumble into dust. The man really was dangerous to her health. Why had she volunteered?
She closed her eyes and offered up a prayer for guidance, for peace. She’d volunteered so she could see more of Ty. And here she was, seeing him. Would it be so terrible if he wanted to see more of her too?
Her ex, John, had already moved on. She’d seen pictures of him and his secretary splashed all over social media. He hadn’t done it maliciously, but it still hurt. River had stayed in Nevada until the court had settled on the custody of Lexi and Hannah, and then she’d left. It was too hard to stay in Las Vegas, too hard to think of the friends she’d lost, of John’s two sisters who used to be like sisters to River and now wouldn’t talk to her.
Not only that, but Lexi and Hannah had lost their aunts. His parents had still been interested, but they’d understood when she’d called to tell them she was moving back to Montana. She’d promised pictures and cards.
She wiped the memories from her mind as another man entered the room, followed closely by Pearl. This was a business meeting. She could be professional. If Ty wanted to grab something to eat after, well, River needed dinner as much as the next person and there was no crime in sharing a meal with a friend.
By the time the “quick half hour” meeting had reached an hour, River had realized how true Ty had spoken. A lot had changed about Harvest Days. There was an entire Huck Finn fishing event to plan—which she’d signed up for because it was in the afternoon, and her counseling caseload was easier in the afternoons.
Ty had immediately volunteered to help her with the event, a glint in his eye that made rockets zoom through her veins.
There was a pickleball tournament to organize. A 5K run to advertise, get permits for, and begin registration for. The main parade had it’s own committee, as did the carnival, but Ty served on that one, so River added her name to it as well.
She didn’t dare look at him as she did, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her true feelings hidden.
“One more thing,” Pearl said. “Who can work with the church to make sure we have enough volunteers for the concessions at the rodeo?” She looked up expectantly from a large binder she’d brought with her. “Its just emails and phone calls, mostly. The pastor and his community outreach coordinator usually do it all, actually.”
“I can,” River said. “All I have is the Huck Finn Day and help with the carnival.”
“The carnival is big,” Pearl said. “That requires permits and road closures too.”
River swallowed, thinking maybe she’d bitten off more than she could chew simply by coming to the meeting. “I go to church anyway. I can talk to the pastor.”
“Sydnee is the community outreach coordinator,” Ty said, like River should know who that was.
“Sydnee?” she asked.
“Yeah, you know.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Sydnee Hatter? She played softball. Graduated the same year as you.”
Recollection flooded River’s mind. “Oh, Sydnee, right. I can contact her.”
“I’ll help with that too,” Ty said.
“You have enough,” Pearl said.
“And River Lee—uh.” He cut her a look filled with apology and panic. “River can do most of the heavy lifting on this one. But she’ll need help organizing all the volunteers. It’s four nights of people. It’s a lot.”
Warmth bloomed beneath River’s breastbone. He’d made an attempt to call her the right name. She ducked her head as a smile stole across her face. A smile she couldn’t contain in a box, or behind a door, or beneath a rock. A smile she almost wanted Ty to see.
The meeting ended, and she stuffed her notepad in her purse, shouldered the bag, and stood. “Wow,” she said. “You weren’t kidding when you said they needed more help.” Even though there had been a dozen people in the meeting, River was sure they couldn’t pull off Harvest Days, which was only two months away.
“More will come,” he said. “This was just the initial meeting to get everything cemented.” He stepped toward the door, his hands shoved deep into his front pockets.
“Too bad they got rid of the baby contest,” she said.
“It was totally lame,” Ty said. “Every single baby who was entered won. There were like seven trucks in the parade, all of them hunkered down under umbrellas. You couldn’t even see the babies.”
River laughed, her first reaction. And it felt good, freeing, to laugh like that. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laugh so spontaneously. She stepped wide, almost colliding with Ty. Without thinking too hard about what she was doing, she linked her hand through his elbow. “So, are you staying down in the valley tonight? Or do you have to get back up to the ranch?”
He dipped his face to glance at her, then re-centered his eyes down the hall. “Going back to the ranch. I do the early morning chores on weekends.”
“Every weekend?”
“Yeah.” He yawned as if the thought of doing the early morning chores made him tired. “That way I can come down to the valley in the afternoons. I have the riding lessons, events, the dances, church….” He let his voice trail off, and River didn’t know how to fill the silence between them.
They approached the exit, and she panicked, thinking as soon as they stepped outside, he’d vanish. Vanish into his truck to find dinner on his own. Vanish back up the canyon, where he was so far out of her reach.
“Are you hungry?” she blurted out.
Ty slowed, his footsteps coming to a complete stop. “
Am I hungry? Is that a real question?”
She searched his face for some sign of teasing. With Ty, there was always sarcasm and good humor. Some had labeled him a prankster in high school, but River had seen the more serious, more sensitive guy beneath the carefree demeanor. Once. She’d seen him once. And she’d liked him.
“Well, are you?” she asked. “Because I was thinking we could—”
He lifted his finger and placed it against her lips, effectively silencing her and causing a bolt of heat to rebound through her body.
“Just a sec,” he whispered. “We?”
Two women came around the corner, obviously having just worked out. Several more committee members were moving toward them too. And there stood Ty, all statuesque, with his thumb practically stroking her bottom lip.
She turned and left the building, the merry-go-round containing her emotions spinning spinning spinning.
“River Lee!” Ty called as he followed her.
She didn’t have the energy to correct him on her name. Besides, she actually kind of liked the way it sounded in his voice.
He caught up to her. Of course he did. “I’m always hungry,” he said. “You know they don’t feed cowboys much out on ranches? We have to make our own dinners.”
“What a tragedy.” She added an eyeroll to the statement. She fished her keys out of her purse, but Ty snatched them from her fingers. “Ty,” she warned.
“I’ll drive us to dinner,” he said. “And my truck’s over there.” He changed direction on a dime, his stride long and powerful and leaving her to rush to catch him. He grinned like he’d won the lottery as he held open the passenger door to his dirty, beat-up ranch truck, and River allowed herself to return the gesture.
But with her heart tap dancing as Ty circled the truck and climbed in the driver’s seat, River wondered what in the blazes she was doing.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Somewhere fast and easy,” she said, suddenly thinking of her girls at home.
“Fast and easy.” Ty started the truck. “I don’t think that describes you at all.”
She wasn’t sure if she should be horrified by his statement, chastise him, or laugh. She blinked; he grinned wolfishly; she tipped her head back and laughed. He joined her, and it was the sweetest chorus to River’s ears.
When she quieted, she said, “Well, at least we got that out of the way. Anything with me is going to be long and hard.”
Ty pulled into the street and headed west toward downtown Gold Valley. “That’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I like a challenge. And no one’s ever called me a quitter.”
Chapter 6
River basked in the air conditioning in Ty’s truck, surprised the ancient beast was so well equipped. The radio warbled out an old country song, and Ty hummed along with it. Sweet contentment cascaded through her, and River found herself combing her fingers through her hair and singing the lyrics under her breath.
“Do you like tacos?” Ty asked.
River glanced out the windshield at the row of shops along Main Street. “I like pizza more.”
“Pizza is the king of fast and easy.” He grinned, and River almost lost consciousness with the dazzling quality of his grin. The man must practice for hours in front of a mirror to get such a quick gesture so perfect. He pulled into the parking lot as he asked, “What do you like on your pizza?”
“Pepperoni,” she said. “I’m a purist.”
He cocked his chin toward her, his eyes barely slanting toward her before flitting away. “A purist, huh? So that means nothing but pepperoni.”
“Extra cheese?”
Ty parked and killed the engine—and thus the air conditioning. He turned toward her and leaned one arm on the steering wheel. “You should try pepperoni and olives. It’s the perfect pairing.”
“Something I’ve never done before,” she said, everything in her trying to figure out how to flirt. “Sounds dangerous.”
With the twinkle in his eye, River felt like maybe she’d achieved a new high score in the flirtation game.
“We can do half and half,” he said. “But we can’t sit here without the AC.” He pushed open his door and practically leapt from the truck. River barely had her seatbelt unbuckled before he yanked her door open. He reached up to her, and she focused on his hand.
Large, and tan, and calloused, he had the hands of a working man. Excitement tripped through her as she pressed her palm against his. She glanced around, but it was still early for the Friday night dinner crowd, and the street wasn’t very busy.
She met his gaze, and even through the shade created by the brim of his hat, she saw a flicker of frustration. Maybe disappointment? Anger? He blinked and the emotion went out. “Shall we?”
River rolled her eyes. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
Ty nudged her with his elbow but kept her hand cemented in his. “Oh, sure you will, sweetheart. I rather like the sound of we comin’ from you.”
“You’re just going to make me pay for it.”
Ty slowed, and River sensed there was more to him than mega-watt smiles, a way with horses, and quick wit. Of course there was. She’d glimpsed it that one summer years ago. Again when he’d helped her mom with the outdoor faucet. A third time when he ran around the picnic to make sure everyone got fed before he even took a single bite.
“River Lee,” he drawled, and she decided not to correct him though her spine did stiffen the slightest bit.
“Yes?”
“Are you—I mean.” He exhaled and his hand fell away from hers. The loss of it felt colder than River thought possible. “I don’t mean to start somethin’ you’re not ready for.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. Ty’s desire rode right there in the words he’d said, the space between them, the heated glances in her direction.
“Who says I’m not ready?”
“Katie.”
River groaned. “Maybe Katie should keep her mouth shut.” She reached for Ty and secured his hand in hers. “I’m starving, I know that. Can we just go eat and not make a national event out of it?”
Ty liked the weight of River’s hand in his. He liked the way her fingers fit between his. He liked the presence of her beside him, that tantalizing lilac scent teasing him, driving him wild.
“No national events,” he said. “Its just pizza.”
“Exactly.” River Lee stepped toward the pizza joint, towing Ty with her. Not that she had to try that hard. He’d gladly go where she wanted if she’d keep saying we and holding his hand. He did notice that she hadn’t answered his implied question as to whether she was ready to start a relationship with him or not.
A skin of unease settled over him, but he pushed it back. She was with him, holding his hand. And she’d suggested dinner, not him.
Maybe just follow her lead, he told himself. He hardly ever let someone else lead, and it felt nice to let River Lee step up to the cash register and order a half pepperoni, half pepperoni and olive pizza.
“And sodas,” Ty added.
River Lee made a face and shook her head. “Water for me.”
“Water?” Ty scoffed and squeezed her hand. “You can have water at home.”
“I can make pepperoni pizza at home too.”
“Not like this.”
She grinned and giggled. “No, definitely not like this.” She released his hand to fumble for her purse, but Ty wasn’t having any of that. He whipped his wallet out of his back pocket and had his debit card out before she’d even taken another breath.
“Ty,” she protested.
“River Lee,” he said back, drawing out her second name in a way that would surely annoy her. It did, if the flattened lips and stormy eyes were any indication.
He chuckled. “C’mon.” He swept his arm around her waist and tucked her into his side. “Did you really think we were gonna go to dinner and I wouldn’t pay?”
“I didn’t intend for you to pay when I suggested dinner
.”
“I know you didn’t.” Ty stepped away and took his card back, tucking it into his wallet with extra care, trying to take a breath that wasn’t full of River Lee’s coconut-scented shampoo. He needed to tame the tidal wave of desire threatening to drown him, and touching her wasn’t helping with that.
He took his cup over to the soda machine, glad when she went to find a table instead of joining him. Deep breaths, he coached himself as he filled the cup with ice and then diet cola. This is not a date. Not a date. Not a date.
Just because he’d paid didn’t mean it was a date. Just because they sat across from each other in a booth didn’t make this a date.
Please help me to say the right things this time, he prayed as he lidded his soda and turned to join her. When he made it to the booth, she lifted her water cup and added a smile to the gesture.
He set his soda down and went to get her drink. “Lemon?” he called over his shoulder. The only other couple in the restaurant had about fifty years on Ty, and they didn’t look up from their early dinner.
“Ew. No.”
“No lemon,” Ty muttered. Nearly every woman he’d dated in the last year wouldn’t drink water without lemon in it. Like it was a fashion statement or something. The fact that River Lee didn’t like it only set her further apart from the crowd he’d once liked.
He returned to the table and sat down, his breath whooshing out of him.
“Rough week?” she asked.
He gave her a tired smile. “About normal.”
She sipped her water, those cerulean eyes never leaving his. “The ranch keeps you busy.”
“Always.”
“Why do you do the community service then?”
Ty shrugged, not wanting to get into his reasons why, not tonight. He had a hard time articulating them in a way that didn’t sound pathetic. “Why did you?”
“Truthfully?”
“Sure, we can be truthful with each other.”
“Wanted to see the great Ty Barker in action.” The flash of her smile almost blinded him.