Chapter Ten
T he next morning, Drew yawned for the third time before he’d even left his truck to walk the short distance from where he’d parked his truck and the clinic’s door on the other side of the trailer. He was exhausted and couldn’t fully wake up, despite the fact he’d downed the majority of a pot of coffee before he’d left the Wright Ranch main house, much to the annoyance of his father who had a month’s worth of ranch financials to wade through today.
After spending just one day with Peyton Halliday, he was wrung out. Hurtling down a mountain, making sure she survived another bronc ride unharmed, then following her back to her trailer and lurking around outside, making sure she didn’t slip back out and try whitewater rafting at night was exhausting. But he had to know for sure that she’d been telling the truth when she’d said she was turning in. And as long as a light remained on in her little trailer, he hadn’t dare leave, even though a rodeo he should have been working was in full swing.
Doc Tracer had assured Drew that he had it handled, reminding Drew once again that he’d been tending to injured rodeo folk for longer than Drew had been alive. Nevertheless, Drew’s stress level had climbed with each exclamation, with each gasp erupting from the crowd in the stands that he could clearly hear while standing in the shadows across from Peyton’s trailer. But the only thing he could do was tell himself Doc was right, he certainly was more than capable of tending any injury that might occur in the arena.
And with the future of the clinic, Drew’s future, potentially contingent on how well he kept Peyton safe, he would skulk outside her trailer all night if necessary.
Drew rounded the back of the clinic trailer and nearly missed a step at the sight of Peyton lounging on the folding steps below the closed clinic door. She’d propped her back against the door and had stretched her legs out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Her light brown cowboy hat was resting on her belly, and she’d tilted her delicate chin up with her eyes closed, clearly savoring the warmth of the newly risen sun. Her red hair, loose and pulled over one shoulder, glinted like polished copper.
Peyton Halliday, in her worn boots, faded jeans, and white and baby-blue stripped light cotton western shirt was every cowboy’s fantasy come to life.
And by every cowboy he meant him.
His mood automatically soured.
When she didn’t open her eyes at his approach, he said, “I hope you have sunscreen on.”
She pried one eye barely open and looked at him through a slit. “Of course, Dr. Drew.”
He stopped at her feet, casting a shadow on her, and ran a critical eye over her pale, lightly freckled skin trying to discern how long she’d been waiting for him. If she’d been sitting there long, she’d surely have a tint of red to her skin. Unless she really did have adequate sunscreen on.
He pinched his nose for a second and just asked, “How long have you been sitting here?”
She opened both eyes, able to look at him fully now because he was blocking the sun. “Not long. I figured you might be a little late into the clinic this morning.”
Drew brought his teeth together. Had she seen him watching her trailer last night?
She smiled sweetly up at him. “With you having to be at the rodeo until the very end, and all.”
She was messing with him. A muscle jumped beneath his eye. Fatigue. And stress. That was all. Nothing he hadn’t successfully managed before to achieve his goals.
“You hungry?” she asked.
The way she asked it made him instantly think of all the different types of appetites a man could have, and he silently groaned.
For his sanity’s sake, he shifted his gaze to the door she was leaning on and forced himself to think of the paperwork he was sure needed to be done on the other side of it. He’d planned on making up for his absence by doing the formal, electronic charting, if there was any first thing this morning. Doc tended to put off the chore because he didn’t care for it. But Drew also knew Doc would have his hide if he put everyday mundane tasks ahead of doing what Doc had told him to do. Which was stick to Peyton like a bur.
He pulled in a lungful of crisp morning air and let it out slowly. “I could eat.” He’d only chased all the coffee he’d drank with a single piece of toast, so yeah, he could definitely eat.
“Good, because I snagged this”—she put her hat on her head, sat up, and reached down to pick up from the ground a white paper bag he hadn’t noticed before—“from the spread Nat always has brought in for the cast and crew. I’d feel guilty eating it all myself while we’re on our way.”
“On our way where?”
“To our next adventure.” Her smile was dazzling even in the shade.
Growing still, he asked, “Which is?”
“Climbing Smith Rock.”
Drew’s jaw went slack. So much worse than zip-lining.
“I read all about it last night. While I was in my trailer.” Her thick, long, burnished lashes swept down then back up as she gave him a slow, guileless blink.
Was this his payback for switching her mount last night? But she might not know for sure it was him who had arranged the switch. She could very well have seen him spying on her last night though.
At least he had a solid out for this adventure of hers. Unless she was also a practiced and accomplished rock climber as well as a competitive saddle bronc rider, there was no way she’d be able to even attempt scaling the dozens of routes up the many faces that made up the Smith Rock State Park.
He opened his mouth to say as much when she held up a finger to stop him.
“And by climb, I mean hike, of course. Turns out I left my climbing gear at home.”
He snapped his mouth shut and raised his brows.
She laughed, and he felt the surprisingly husky sound behind his sternum. “No, I don’t have climbing gear. And look at these arms.” She stood on the bottom stair, making her as tall as his chin, and spread her arms wide. The white paper bag dangled from one hand and the buttons of her shirt strained between her breasts. “I’d never be able to reach the handholds, or whatever they’re called.” She dropped her arms with a shrug.
Drew probably should have said something, but his mind was suddenly completely blank. The rest of his body, however, had plenty to say. He did his damnedest to shut it down.
“But I would like to see the park. It looks beautiful in the pictures on the internet.” She blinked up at him in a more genuine way, her gaze skipping over his face.
He realized he was hot. Very hot.
“So, will you?”
Why yes, yes, I will. “Will I what?”
She laughed again. “Drive me to Smith Rock? If you can’t, no worries. I can get an Uber since my truck is in the shop. But either way, I need to get out of here before Nat finds me.”
Knowing what Doc would tell him to do, Drew nodded. “Sure. I will drive you to Smith Rock. Today would be a perfect day for a scenic walk.”
“Hike.” She corrected him. “A scenic hike.”
He gestured toward their feet. “In cowboy boots?”
“If you can’t do it in boots, it ain’t worth doin’, son.” She winked at him.
It took an extreme force of will for Drew not to graphically imagine one thing in particular that could be done with boots on. Nothing but boots…
He cleared his throat. “Okay, then. Hike.” A nice scenic, and safe, hike. One that lasted long enough to make her miss her ride this evening.
Suddenly, Drew wasn’t feeling quite so exhausted, after all.
*
Peyton had to give it to Drew. He was hard to ruffle.
But the day was young.
She had a definite spring in her step as she went to wait for Drew at his truck. She’d passed on his invitation to go into the sports medicine trailer with him while he grabbed them bottled water to take with them on their “hike.” The last place she would ever willingly go was a medical clinic. Even when the medical professional looked like Drew Neisson.
She didn’t have to wait long before Drew rounded the end of the trailer with a drawstring topped, black nylon knapsack in one hand. Far more practical for a hike than her pastry-filled white paper bag. He hit a button on his key fob, and the truck doors unlocked with a thunk .
Peyton wasted no time climbing in the passenger side. She assumed Nat and the crew were still eating breakfast in the Buckin’ TV RV, but on the off chance someone came looking for her, she wanted to be able to duck out of sight. According to the Smith Rock Park’s website, the rock formation and its trails were considerably closer to them than Mt. Bachelor, so she wasn’t concerned about being back to the rodeo grounds in time for the women’s exhibition rides.
And as annoyed as she was about her father’s attempt to control her from afar by arranging for Drew, a doctor, to shadow her, as she watched him climb into the big truck, all long muscular legs and broad shoulders, she had to admit things could be worse.
Drew carefully maneuvered his truck out of the increasingly busy rodeo grounds and headed for the highway, turning in the opposite direction they’d taken yesterday when they’d gone to Mt. Bachelor. The farther they traveled, the more opposite the landscape became, also. Instead of driving toward lodge pole and ponderosa pine-covered foothills, they were surrounded by the scrub brush-covered epitome of high desert, broken up by the verdant green of irrigated fields.
In the distance, their destination was clear. Jutting up from the flatness were incredible, distinct spires of seemingly sheer rock, with craggy, uneven tops.
Peyton sat forward in her seat with a gasp. “It’s beautiful.” Then she twisted to see out of the truck’s windows behind them, and her heart soared.
*
Drew knew the view that would greet her was a string of stunning, snow-tipped mountains of the central Cascades.
“You are so lucky. Everything is so beautiful here.”
Drew grinned. “I wouldn’t trade it.”
She faced forward, her growing excitement palpable. Her beautiful profile practically glowed with happy anticipation. She definitely was an adrenaline junkie. Little wonder she willingly climbed aboard broncs.
“Did you always want to be a bronc rider?”
She laughed. “I didn’t even know it was an option until I saw the other girls competing on their circuit in Texas last year.”
“You’ve only been riding saddle broncs for a year?”
“More like three months.”
He shot her a glance. “What? You’ve only been riding for three months?”
“No, I’ve been riding since before I could walk. I’ve been ranch saddle bronc riding for three months.”
“But you successfully rode Karen From Finance.” He couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice. Because he was absolutely incredulous.
“Right?” She grinned impishly. “My grandpa’s ranch manager always says there isn’t a horse alive that can make me eat mud.”
“You’ve never been thrown?”
“Well, I’ve definitely fallen off. Tends to happen when you do something wrong.”
“Sometimes, it also just happens. I know as much from personal experience.”
She shrugged in a it sucks to suck way.
Drew bit back a smile and returned his attention to the road. Despite her bravado, Peyton’s inexperience might also explain her family’s insistence she be watched over. “How does your family feel about you riding broncs?”
She gave him a look that made clear what she thought of his deduction abilities. “I know you already know how they feel.”
“Regardless of your natural abilities, you can’t blame them for being concerned about you doing something so inherently dangerous.”
She muttered, “But I can blame them for being smothering.”
Drew’s curiosity was instantly piqued. “Why are they smothering?”
“Did you always want to be a doctor?” she not-so-smoothly changed the subject.
He readjusted his hands on the wheel. “I did.”
He could feel her gaze on him, probably waiting for him to say more. He wasn’t going to, so she’d just have to wait.
He heard her huff out a breath. “Okay, so while all the other little boys were out playing cowboy, you were busy playing doctor.”
He snorted. “In a way.” But certainly not in the way she was implying. Mostly, he’d made himself invisible while the real doctors worked.
She fell silent, apparently satisfied.
As they approached the park, Peyton strained forward in her seat again, letting out little gasps as each new feature of the rock formations was revealed, some shadowed, some bathed in the warm morning light.
She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Thank you so much for bringing me here. I have never in my life seen so many shades of red and brown. And I’m from Texas.”
Her small hand was not surprisingly strong and warm. He had to think hard to focus. The gradient of rock did vary in color from level to level, a function of time, erosion, and different types of rock making up the spine formations.
She gave his arm a small squeeze before slipping it away.
Drew started to turn toward the yurt Welcome Center, but Peyton waved him forward. “I read about a bridge we need to cross and that there’s parking reasonably close by. Can we just go to the bridge?”
“Sure. Yeah, sure.” While he would have preferred wasting as much time as possible in the complete safety of the visitor’s center, he knew there were several very flat, very tame trails along the Crooked River that wound around the rocks. “We just need to grab a parking pass first.” He pulled into one of the fee stations, hopped out, and bought a park day pass from one of the automated fee station kiosks.
The park was a popular place no matter the time of year, but they were lucky and found an open parking space as close as they could get to the foot bridge that crossed the meandering river. Drew put the white paper bag Peyton had brought into the knapsack before they climbed from the truck.
Slinging the knapsack over his shoulder, Drew led Peyton down the steep, semi-paved walkway, past the resting spots and the large grassy area with picnic tables and a bathroom. He let her go first over the foot bridge that spanned the crystal clear, relatively shallow and aptly named Crooked River. Her excitement was as contagious as it had been the day before when they’d zip-lined, and as before, he found himself smiling. Peyton’s enjoyment of pretty much everything was infectious.
Clinical, not personal.
When she reached the end of the bridge, and the lightly graveled path split into three separate trails, Drew called, “Go left.”
Peyton stopped to read the trail marker. “Wolf Tree Trail?”
“Yep,” Drew confirmed as he reached her. A very scenic, very tame hike right along the river.
“I was hoping to check out Misery Ridge.”
Drew laughed. “Of course, you were.”
She contemplated the trail for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay. Come on.” She snagged his hand and pulled him forward.
Drew found himself being pulled along both physically and emotionally. What was it about this woman? Before he knew it, he was threading his fingers between hers.
She glanced up at him, as if surprised, but then smiled.
He felt it right in his gut. Damn, she was pretty.
She asked, “So, you come here often?” then laughed at the unintentional pick-up sounding line.
A woman like her would never have to use any sort of line to get a guy to talk to her.
His fingers flexed on her hand of their own volition, then he turned his attention to the beautiful scenery. Vibrant green native grass interspersed with wild flowers grew on both sides of the trail, especially thick and lush on the banks of the river. “Not often enough.”
“A case of not appreciating what’s in your own backyard?”
“Exactly.” It would have been easy to blame it on school, or his chosen career, but she was right. There was so much in his life he hadn’t fully appreciated.
Like having the chance to take a hike with a pretty girl.
She looked up at the face of Picnic Lunch Wall and a set of climbers already making their way up the set lines. “I’d be here constantly.”
He’d consider it with company like her.
When the trail narrowed, and there was no longer room for them to walk side-by-side, he was forced to release her hand. Which finally brought him to his senses. This was not a date.
The trail led them beneath a giant ponderosa tree, and Peyton gasped at the sight of a strategically placed bench at the tree’s base, well within its shade but still offering a stunning view of the river.
“Now that’s a perfect place to eat breakfast,” Peyton exclaimed and hurried to the bench. Grinning wide, she plopped onto the seat and patted the spot next to her.
And Drew’s senses deserted him yet again.
Before taking the seat he very much wanted to occupy, with his leg pressed against hers, their shoulders touching, he slid the knapsack off his shoulder. She reached out and took it from him. As he sat, she pulled open the drawstring top and took out the bag and the waters, handing him one.
She opened the bag. “Giant blueberry cake masquerading as a muffin or an equally giant apple fritter?”
“Mm, nutritious. You go ahead and choose what you want.”
“There’s two of each. Go for it.” She held the open bag to him.
He fished out a sticky apple fritter that was indeed huge.
“Good choice. They’re my favorite.” She pulled the other fritter from the bag for herself.
“No wonder you have so much energy.”
She winked and took a big bite.
They sat in companionable silence eating their sticky pastries, drinking their waters, and enjoying the view.
But in his head, he kept hearing her muttered response and wanted to know more. “Why does your family smother you?”
She kept her gaze upriver, chewing slowly. She shrugged and swallowed. “Baby of the family.”
He thought of Alec, the baby of their family, and wondered if he had become a bull rider because he’d felt smothered. Drew immediately rejected the idea. Alec had become a bull rider because of their mom. The same reason Drew had gone into medicine.
Peyton popped the last of her fitter into her mouth. “Do you want more?” At his head shake, she rolled the top of the bag closed and returned it and her half-empty water bottle to the knapsack.
Drew took it from her, put his water bottle in also, and slung it over his shoulder again as he stood. He had to turn away when she started to suck the sticky frosting off her fingers.
Peyton popped up off the bench. “And there’s the sugar rush! Okay, let’s keep going.”
Since his ultimate goal was to keep her away from the rodeo grounds for as long as possible, Drew touched a finger to the brim of his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”
They walked a little farther, with Peyton snapping pictures on her phone. When she stopped in front of a large boulder at least fifteen feet tall with about a one-inch crack running down its face, standing apart from the rest of the formation, Drew assumed she was simply going to take another photo.
Instead, she tucked her phone into her jeans pocket and announced, “This one’s perfect.”
“Perfect for what?”
She spread her hands wide. “Bouldering!” She sent him what he was beginning to think of as her here comes trouble smile. “You don’t need climbing equipment for bouldering.”
“You’re wearing cowboy boots.”
“I thought we already established I do everything in cowboy boots.”
Luckily, she turned back toward the boulder before she could see him gulp.
“And I have you to catch me if I fall.”
Drew stilled. That was what he was here for, wasn’t it? But there was something about the way she said the words that made his chest ache. He didn’t have time to analyze the feeling because Peyton was already scrambling her way up the boulder, wedging her fingers and the toes of her boots into the crack in the rock.
Setting the knapsack on the ground, he hurried to stand directly below her in case he did need to catch her. But Peyton made it to the top of the boulder without a single slip.
She stood and faced him, thrusting her fists over her head in victory. “Woohoo! Bouldering. Check.” She made a giant checkmark in the air.
Drew found himself laughing, sucked into her joy again. He put his hands on his hips. “Congratulations. Now, how are you going to get down?”
She dropped her hands and looked around as if she hadn’t considered the problem.
Drew took pity on her. He stepped closer and raised his hands. “Sit down and slide. I’ll catch you.”
“And I’ll scrape all the flesh from by backside.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a doctor.”
She sobered. “Yeah, I know.”
He encouraged her with a wiggle of his fingers. But after she sat and started scooching down the slightly curved rock, he said, “Push yourself off, away from the rock, and I’ll catch you.”
Her warm hazel eyes locked with his.
Was she gauging if she could trust him?
Drew wasn’t able to consider the question more because she pushed herself from the boulder and extended her arms toward him. He caught her easily, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders.
And her gaze never left his.
He slid her down his body until her booted feet were on the ground. Her breasts were warm on his chest.
He’d never wanted to kiss a woman more in his life.
But she blinked, patted him on the chest, and stepped away enough that he had to release her. “We better get back to the rodeo grounds, Dr. Drew. You have cowboys to patch up, and I have broncs to bust.” She snagged his knapsack and headed back down the trail.
Drew tipped his head back and stared up at the clear blue sky. He might as well get I am so screwed tattooed on him somewhere.