by TC Matson
“Hard day in the life of a rancher?”
Chuckling, I stand. “I’ve been working since five this morning while your pretty self was still in dreamland. I saved the best for last, though.”
Curiosity has never been her strong suit. “And what’s that?”
“You still know how to ride a horse, city slicker?”
That strikes a nerve with her and wipes the smile clean off her face. “It’s like riding a bike. Right?”
A chuckle rumbles from me. “Without the pedaling, sure.”
I grab a box off the floor and hand it to her. “You can’t ride a horse in those shoes.” I nod at her sandals.
Opening it, her eyes bulge in surprise. “You bought me boots?”
“Every pretty girl needs pretty boots.”
Something crosses over her face before she quickly averts her gaze back to the boots. “I don’t have any socks and I’m not wearing blisters into my heels.”
She must think I’m an amateur. Smirking smugly, I grab the right boot and pull out a pair of socks—teal with peaches on them. “Peach still your favorite color?”
I get lost in her eyes, the way she’s looking at me with so much adoration it causes my chest to tighten and my pulse to pick up. Dakota shifts, breaking whatever trance she was in, and snatches the socks from my hand. “Asshole,” she mutters playfully. “Of course you’d think of everything so I can’t get out of it.”
While she puts on her boots, I grab Onyx from his stall and bring him down the main aisle toward her. Dakota’s entire existence brightens, her eyes wide and her grin even more so.
“Oh my god. Onyx!” She jumps up, hurrying over to us, and runs a hand down his forehead and muzzle before putting her forehead to his. “You’re still as handsome as ever,” she whispers.
He might be my horse, but those two had a bond. She fell in love with him the moment she met him and he was always pretty damn fond of her too.
Leaving them to have their moment, I grab Dallas and head back out to find Dakota with tears on her cheeks as she runs her hands all over Onyx’s mane and down his neck.
Adult Dakota cries more than teenage Dakota. This is new for me.
“You good?” I ask.
She sniffles, quickly wiping the tears away. “Yeah. What are we doing?”
“Gotta move the large herd to a different pasture.”
“You’re quite capable of that. Why in the world do you need me?”
I lean in close, placing my mouth next to her ear. “To bring out that gorgeous country girl in you for just a little while.” I straighten. “Come on. Don’t want to be out here all night.”
Just like I knew she could, she mounted Onyx like a pro and settles in beside me as we make our way out through the field toward the east pasture. I can’t keep my damn eyes off her. It’s like pure nostalgia. She’s gorgeous sitting in the saddle atop Onyx with strands of her ponytail getting caught in the breeze behind her. She’s been rocking a permanent smile since we exited the stables.
“I forgot how tranquil it is out here,” she says, looking toward the north pasture where the mountains bless the backdrop. “So peaceful and quiet.”
The field stretches out in front of us, shades of green as far as the eyes can see with mountains rising tall into the blue sky. It’s a view I’d hate to not have every day. “Not peaceful and quiet where you live?”
“Not at all. Always busy. Where I live, I can see the edge of the sun before it sets behind a few buildings.”
“Mornings are my favorite. Before the sun comes up over the horizon, the air is crisp, and everything is quiet. That’s my peace.”
“You were always the early riser, though. I prefer the sun setting over the sun rising.”
“You still sleep ’til noon?”
She shakes her head. “I wish. Adult life sucks.” She titters. “I’m usually up by six thirty or seven o’clock.”
Hopping off Dallas, I open the gate to the pasture and guide him in as Dakota moves Onyx through before I close it. This particular group doesn’t require a lot of attention. They’re used to the moves and only need guidance toward the pasture. That’s why I called Dakota. It gives me time to just be with her.
“Thank you,” she says out of the blue.
“For?”
“My boots. The socks. Bringing me out here.”
“Make sure you bring them boots back on your next visit. Hate for your heels to get muddy,” I tease, detesting the thought. “When do you head back?” The question knots my stomach.
“Not sure,” she says after a minute. “Been thinking about sticking around a little longer.”
“Your boss let you do that? Just take whatever time you want off?”
“She won’t mind. She told me to take off as much time as I needed. Besides, she always tells me since I never take vacations or use sick days that I’ve got enough paid leave accumulated to buy a house.”
“I think I like this Izzy lady. Why haven’t you taken vacation?”
“I have. I just…” she trails off and I catch her tapping the horn of the saddle with her fingers. She’s uncomfortable with this conversation. “I’m a workaholic, I guess. I tend to bury myself in work often.”
“Why would you do that? There’s more to life than work, ya know?”
Her eyes slide to mine and she opens her mouth to say something. Deciding against it, she shuts her mouth and looks away. “When’s the last time you took a vacation?”
“Look around you, Dakota. I take one every day.”
She rolls her eyes and it brings back her smile. “You know what I mean.”
“Rhett and I went to South Dakota a few years back to buy some cattle.”
Her giggle is sweet. “That’s work,” she says as she steers Onyx to guide a heifer back to the herd.
“Reckon I haven’t taken one then.”
“Then don’t talk to me about why I haven’t taken one.”
Once we get the last cow into the pasture, I shut the gate behind us and start riding back toward the stables with a scheme to force Dakota into her roots. Stepping up beside her, I nudge Dallas to ride a few strides faster than Dakota. Of course, Dakota bumps Onyx. Without warning, I throw Dallas into a full gallop, charging through the field. I don’t have to look to know Dakota’s behind me, but I peek anyway. She’s gaining speed, concentration on the edges of her grin. She rides Onyx hard, catching up. He’s my fastest horse regardless of his age and he eats up the distance between us like it’s nothing, probably showing off for his rider.
With the both of us in a full run, it takes no time for us to get back to the stables… Dakota wins our little race by half a horse. She’s out of breath when she slides off Onyx and runs a hand over his neck and up his cheek. “We’ve still got it, handsome.”
Just as I grab Dallas’ and Onyx’s reins, the door squeaks open and Richard steps in. “What’s all the racket?” His voice booms through the quietness.
“He thought he could beat me in a race,” Dakota points to me and quirks up a brow. “I had to remind him I haven’t lost one yet.”
Richard’s salt-and-pepper goatee twists as he smiles, a prideful gleam in his eyes. “You bet him any money?”
“Daddy. You taught me never to prey on the vulnerable.”
Richard bursts out laughing.
“I let you win that,” I deadpan, biting back my own smile.
“Right…” Dakota singsongs. She strides over to her father and gives him a hug. “Are you done for the day?”
“I am. I was on the way to my truck when I saw you speeding through the field. I wanted to check and make sure you were good.” He kisses the side of her head. “I’m going to head home so I can take a shower before Ma’s dinner. Don’t be late. You know how your mother can be.” He kisses her again and tips his chin to me before leaving.
While at work, Richard’s always been a man of few words, but at home, it’s as if he switches personalities. Dakota used to tell me how her fam
ily would have game night and how her dad would have everyone cracking up. It confused the hell out of me. The Richard I was used to seeing was always a quiet man. Then one day I was at their house and Richard was talkative. It stunned me. I just stared at him. Dumbfounded. I even want to say my mouth was hanging open. Over the years, I’ve come to know how he is. He’s not rude, just quiet, until you get the man in his domain.
I walk Dakota to her car. She has a little extra pep in her step and it makes me happy knowing I helped with that.
“Come have a beer with me at the house.” It’s out before I can stop it.
Instantly, uncertainty has a crease forming between her brows and she starts chewing on the side of her lip. That used to drive me wild. It turned me on…a lot. Not a damn thing has changed. Reaching over, I use my thumb to pull her lip out from between her teeth. The moment I touch her skin, a jolt of electricity sizzles through my arm and into my chest crackling out through my limbs. I jerk my hand away just as her eyes flare wide.
“Sorry. Old habit,” I mumble, averting my gaze to her car.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “I need to get back to Momma’s and have dinner. I don’t need her to have another conniption if I’m not there.”
That’s probably a smart idea… I open her car door. “Thanks for the help today.”
She tosses her sandals into the passenger floorboard and blinks to me with a grin. “Thank you for letting me.”
The way she’s looking up at me, sweet and innocent, and so Dakota has me fighting the urge to lean down and kiss her full lips. The air thickens around us and the same crackling static that exploded in my chest earlier whirls and surges around us. Temptation claws up the back of my neck and scorches my blood. I just want a taste of her again, to feel that explosion she always caused me to have.
But before I can do anything stupid, I shake away the thought. “Have a good night, Kota,” I say with a thick voice and walk the hell away before I give into all the urges.
“Blake?”
I spin back around and am met by a tender smile.
“Want me to pay you back for the boots?”
I shake my head with a laugh. “Think of them as a present. But those socks? They cost an arm and a leg. I’d like to be reimbursed for those.” I toss her a wink and make my way to my truck where I can put space between us and take a damn breath.
Chapter Fifteen
Dakota
Last night I couldn’t sleep and finally ended up dozing off in the wee hours of the morning, which is why it’s nearly nine when I come down the stairs. Momma’s in the living room cleaning—the woman never stops—as I pass, heading straight for the coffee pot. But when a particular cup catches my attention, I stop.
“Momma? Please tell me you didn’t run into town to get me a cup of coffee. Not that I’d be complaining.” I take a sip of the liquid heaven. It’s not cold, but it’s not hot either, which tells me it’s been here for a little bit.
“You think I’d spend money on that mess when I have a perfectly good coffee maker over there?” she says, walking past me in the kitchen and pointing to the coffee pot. “You better think again.”
I drop my view to the cup in my hands. “Then who brought it?” Please don’t say Blake.
There’s a glint in her eyes when she peeks up at me. “Your father called Blake last night to see if he could come take a look at the fence out back. He noticed it last night when he snuck out to smoke that god-awful cigar.” She titters rolling her eyes. Momma knows he smokes. Dad knows she knows, but he still sneaks around. “Blake stopped by this morning. Said he’ll be back later with Richard.” She picks up a rag and wipes off the counter. “That boy’s a good man. Helps us out often.”
Blake has always been good to my family. The entire Helms family has.
She sidles up on the stool next to me at the counter. “When are you leaving me again?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell her honestly.
“Wish you didn’t ever have to leave.” She sighs. “If it’s about money, I could give you some.”
That makes me giggle. “Momma. Are you trying to bribe me into staying longer?”
“I’d pay you to move back if I could.”
“You’ve offered me Granny’s house and now money. What’s next? Sell your soul to the devil?” I tease over the rim of my coffee cup.
She gives me a look and smiles. “If I had to, I reckon hell would be worth seeing my daughter more often.”
Coffee almost comes out my nose. I sputter a laugh. “Momma!”
When she hands me a paper towel, she’s cackling. “What? Your father and I have enjoyed you being back here.”
Leaning over, I kiss her cheek. “I’ve missed you both a lot. I’ll talk to Izzy today and figure something out. I’m not ready to leave yet.” I glance around us. “Coming back here, seeing you and dad,” my lips quirk up, “I miss home.”
My words light up her face. She beams as a smile splits her from ear to ear. “What can we do to make you miss it so much that you move back?”
Tittering, I bump her with my shoulder. “Eventually, I’ll have to go home, but let’s see how much time I can squeeze out of Izzy.”
She gives me a long, warm, tender hug. “We’ll take anything you give. You feel like helping me out in the garden? I haven’t really stepped foot in it since Granny passed.”
“I’d love to.”
“You remember how to get your hands dirty?” she jests.
“Not really. Will you remind me how?” I ask, loving the way she’s lights up.
When I was younger, I helped Momma in the garden a lot. It was our favorite time. Just us and girl talk, nature, and a lot of dirt under our fingernails because Momma refuses to wear gloves like a yellow belly. Her words. Not mine.
“Let me change and I’ll be ready.”
Changing into a pair of jean shorts and my teal “Be Kind” t-shirt, I throw my hair into a ponytail and grab my phone, checking the time. It’s ten here, which means it’s nine in California. Izzy is more than likely at her desk drinking her disgusting hot tea.
“Hey, girl. What’s popping?” she chirps when she answers the phone.
“You have way too much energy for the mornings,” I snicker.
“Early bird gets the worm! How’s the family doing? You? Your sister?” she blasts the questions out in rapid fire. That’s Izzy. When she wakes up, her mind instantly starts working. Me? I need coffee first.
“That’s why I’m calling. Is it okay if I stay a little while longer? Everything is good. Momma’s doing good, but I—”
“Dakota. Quit trying to explain the situation. I understand. I told you before you left to take all the time you needed. You want to take a month, take it. Two months, take it. Three? Now you’ll be pushing me into Dakota withdrawals.”
“I miss you,” I sigh, lying back on my bed.
“I miss you too, but your family is more important. And right now… they need you. You never call in sick. You never take vacation. And you work your ass off for me. You’ve accumulated at least five years of comp time. Take some,” she snickers. “Know that I have your baby covered and your job is safely waiting for you when you’re ready to come back.”
“What did I ever do to deserve such a spectacular boss and best friend?”
“Your expertise makes my name better. Your drive propels the company forward. And your friendship is unwavering. Do you need any more flattering compliments or was that good because I’m going to need some of those back eventually for my own ego,” she quips.
“So are you saying you’re going to change the company name to Polk and Jayne Designs?” I thrum.
“Don’t go acting all crazy now,” she snickers. “My hope is one day you’ll grow lady balls and create Jayne Designs or whatever creative name you come up with. Quit being such a chicken shit about running a business and just do it. You’ll have an accountant and an HR team that will keep you in line while you focus on work.”
&nb
sp; “And leave you? Pfftt. That’s blasphemy.”
“You’re incredible, Dakota. You know it. I know it. I just want you to be great… not as good as me, but decent enough. Ya know?”
Cracking up, I push up off the bed. “Thank you.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
Momma’s standing in front of the picture window looking out into the backyard when I come back downstairs. She’s changed too into a pair of jean shorts that stop just above her knee and a red shirt—one of Dad’s t-shirts.
“I’ve always loved this view,” I tell her.
“My garden looks like hell,” she offers a smile. “I’m quite ashamed of it.”
“Well, let’s get it back to tiptop shape.”
It doesn’t take but ten minutes and Momma’s made sure I have dirt under my manicured nails. Just as we started, she trapped me, and by trapped, I mean she double dog dared me to shove my fingers into the dirt and pull out a whole cluster of weeds. Who am I not to step up to a dare?
“How are things with you and Blake?”
“We had a big falling out. I threw your apple pie at him.” I laugh when her mouth drops. She looks horrified. “I was really mad at him.”
“You two always had passion. That’s for sure,” she muses. “I’m assuming from the little bit of time you’ve been spending together the argument cleared the air?”
“It did.”
“You know… even after eleven years, that boy has never had a serious relationship.” She moves away a few feet and begins pulling up weeds from a new section. “Neither have you.” She says it like I don’t know.
“I’ve dated.”
“Mmhmm,” she hums. “That last sack of potatoes was rotten. I’m glad he’s finally out of the picture. I don’t know what you ever saw in him.”
“I settled. I was tired of being the third wheel, the only one without a date,” I admit. “I should’ve known from the get-go. I thought he was handsome, but I was never attracted to him.”