Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SAbrINA
S tanding outside with the horse Rod had saddled for me, I was laughing with Cori as she used me as a test subject to warm up her “shutter finger.” I was making goofy faces and poses. Being outside with the sun and a cool breeze, with nothing to do but be right here, was like having a massive weight lifted off me. Or at least the weight had shifted to the side and was temporarily forgotten. I wasn’t at an event, networking. I wasn’t staring at my depleted savings account, wondering how I was going to fill it in a timely manner. I wasn’t alone. Sometimes I got caught up in all I needed to do, forgetting the right now. Which reaffirmed my decision to adopt but also reminded me that I sorely neglected downtime and self-care.
But also, this moment was taking me closer to my goals. Which was a win. This didn’t feel like work.
Cal strode across the yard toward the corral. He was in dark jeans and an autumn-colored flannel shirt with a T-shirt underneath and was carrying a brown Stetson. And was that a hint of a smile on his face? Well, hot dang, it sure looked like one.
If I’d forgotten to prioritize downtime, Cal had downright cut it from his life. The previous night at dinner, the stories from Brynna, Mrs. Claudia, and Cal’s mother about the ranch and the town had worked him over in the best possible way. He’d left Peru and that attack behind and joined us in Wyoming. His shoulders had visibly relaxed, and the frown between his eyes had softened.
I beamed my brightest smile at him. “Morning, sunshine.”
He walked to the fence and leaned against it, one booted leg up on the low rail. He flicked his fingers at me. “Come here.”
I shook my head. “What for?”
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He must have seen the message I’d left on his mirror and jumped back on his pole. I wasn’t going to apologize. I was here to make his life miserable, all while helping him out. That was the only way to balance this weird-ass situation I was in.
“Reenie.”
I had to give him credit. The man could suppress a grin really well. I crossed my arms and arched one brow.
“I didn’t figure you for a chicken,” he said, crooking a finger at me as he stuck his Stetson on his head.
Dear Lord, he looked like a sexy bandit out to steal all the ladies’ jewels and hearts. I strolled toward him and got as close as I could with the fence between us, without bumping noses.
I mimicked his position and put my foot on the lower rung. “Something the matter?”
He looked over his shoulder at my friends, who were loading up the ATV they were going to use to follow us. His gaze swung back to mine and held it. “I got your message on the mirror last night. Is this going to be a thing?”
“What do you mean by ‘a thing’?”
“Something that happens a lot.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. Depends. If the spirit moves me.”
“And the spirit moved you to give me a list of why we will never be friends?” His gaze bounced to my lips, then quickly back up again.
“Well, of course. When you told your mom we weren’t friends, I thought maybe you needed to have some whys in your back pocket in case she asked. This way, we’ll be on the same page if she asks me too. And it wasn’t a list.”
“There were three reasons. That’s a list.” He held up three fingers.
I gave a dismissive wave. “That’s the start of a list. Five is more like a real list.”
“We aren’t friends because I’m too tall?” He arched a brow and… yep, there it was, a tiny little twitch of the lips.
“Yes. Look at my posture right now. I have to crane my neck to look up at you, and it’s eventually going to become an issue where I might need physical therapy and weekly massages.” I paused and held up a finger. “No. My bad. Can’t use weekly massages as a negative because that would actually be a perk.”
I poked his rock-hard chest, mostly because I still couldn’t believe he was so solid, and this had become a fun habit. I thought about that solid chest of his too much. I was so very curious to see it in real life, not just picture it in my mind’s eye. I was a fool.
He leaned in, and I caught a whiff of him. He smelled fresh, like soap. But not one of those dull bars that people just grabbed at random. No, this scent reminded me of the tall trees and the mountains around me and the blue sky above me. He smelled like the outdoors. Cedar and…
I couldn’t put my finger on it. I drew in another breath, savoring it. My knees got weak. Like, I actually swooned.
Dear God, I swooned. What the actual hell is wrong with me? All from whiffing this guy. I rested more on the fence and tried to get a hold of myself.
“You aren’t so short, you know,” he said.
I blinked at him prettily as I scrambled for words. “That’s just because you see me as larger than life.”
“And we aren’t friends because I think dolled-up coffee is the equivalent of a milkshake?”
I reached up to tighten my ponytail. “Breve, latte—those are not milkshakes. They are coffee art, and aficionados everywhere are appalled by your insult.”
He rolled his eyes. “They’ll survive. You think your friend is a good enough photographer to pull this off; make us look like something we aren’t?” It almost sounded like he was fishing.
“Yeah, totally. Cori knows what she’s doing. Have faith.” I patted him on the arm.
“Let’s get this done, then.” He pushed up to climb over the fence, and I had to back up and move to the side to get out of his way. In two moves, he was over it and dropping down beside me. “Want me to get your horse for you, or you got it?”
Though the brim of his Stetson cast a shadow across his eyes, it did nothing to tamp down the steely look in them.
“I got it.” I shook away the heady feeling that was swirling around me. “Actually, Rod got him.”
Eye contact was bad, bad, bad. When he looked at me, my stomach got all zingy, like a swarm of bees were in there bumping against each other. Being near him made my body vibrate. And remembering our past made my heart sting. And then there was the swooning, for crying out loud.
“But we should make a short video about this. Tell the people what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. You know, for the app,” I said.
He agreed and just stood there, so I whipped out my phone and made a quick video about our first date, explaining that because we knew each other, going off together in an isolated place wasn’t scary. Trust had been established. Cal listed reasons why this wouldn’t be a good idea for the first twenty dates. His point about not really knowing someone after just a handful of dates, even when you felt like you knew them, hit home. And then we were done with that part.
“Ma’am." He tipped his hat, then strode out to the larger of the two horses.
I called out, “What about the third reason? Do you want to discuss that?” I smirked.
“Nope,” he said over his shoulder. “Not much I can do about that, can I?”
CAL
When I’d turned in the previous night, I’d been caught off guard by Sabrina’s loopy and pretty handwriting on my mirror.
Top three reasons you aren’t friend material:
1. You’re too tall.
I smiled at that. She used to like that I was tall. I didn’t really think that was a reason.
2. You call dolled-up coffee “milkshakes.”
The horror.
My smile hitched a tad higher.
3. And oh yeah, that whole “broke my heart” thing.
My smile fell.
When it came down to it, what I’d done had created a barrier the size of the Grand Canyon between us. She might be here, helping me, laughing with my family at dinner, but for her, being here was just a job. The shit-ton of hurt resting in that canyon made traversing our past damn near impossible.
Then I’d gone outside and seen her in the corral with the paint. Sabrina wore dark jeans over turquoise boots and a turquoise shirt tied at the waist—showing off every damn curve—and her hair was up in a long, bouncy ponytail. She was laughing with her friends and teasing the kid Rod. I had a flashback to a time in college when we’d gone back to her ranch to see a new horse her dad had purchased. We’d sat on the fence, our thighs pressed together, my arm around her waist as we watched her dad and the horse get to know each other. Then she’d turned toward me, tucked her face into the curve of my neck, and delivered the softest three kisses along my jawline.
“One because you’re so tall, two for the way you smell, and three for the way you love me,” she’d whispered in my ear. I’d come undone, and had her dad not been there, I would have climbed off that fence, picked her up to straddle me, then showed her right then and there all the ways I did love her.
Seeing her in the corral and having that memory, I did exactly what I said I wasn’t going to do—brought up the note on my mirror.
“Ready?” Cricket called from the ATV.
I looked to Sabrina, who nodded and mounted her horse. I grabbed the reins to my seventeen-hands quarter horse, tall to accommodate my height, and was up and galloping toward Sabrina and the gate in seconds.
Cricket stood up in her seat in the ATV. “How about taking us down toward No Man’s Lake?”
I gave her a thumbs-up and took the lead. As we rode through the woods and the valley that gave way to the mountains, I found the weight of the stress ball that had been sitting on my chest easing. I’d stayed away from the ranch and my family because, in the past, I found that the quiet and slower pace only opened the door to memories and regrets. I loved Jace and his family, but even with them, I had a limit—after two nights, my mood would sour dramatically as I faced the other side of what life had to offer. I didn’t see an option for that side unless I did exactly as my father wanted, including dating and marrying whomever he chose.
I glanced over my shoulder at Sabrina. Her face showed all the pleasure she was experiencing. I’d loved that about her. She’d never been one to hide her feelings if she didn’t have to. This new Sabrina hid more than she showed. Except at the moment. The beauty and wonder of the scenery were mirrored in her expression of awe. She leaned forward and rubbed a hand across her paint’s nose, whispering words that I assumed were filled with love and kindness because that was who she was.
The ATV was everywhere—ahead of us, then pausing to get behind. Cricket did a good job of not getting in our faces. We came around a bend forty minutes after leaving the ranch, and the space opened up to a glacial blue lake with the mountains reflected in the water.
Sabrina gasped. “This is incredible.”
“It’s one of my favorites,” Cricket said. “It’s very popular.”
“Mine too. I won a photography contest once with this scenery. Just stunning,” said Cori. Apparently, she’d known Sabrina since they were kids. That was kind of cool.
“Funny how popular it is and yet how remote it feels.” I shifted in the saddle and let the reins rest across my legs.
Cricket chuckled. “Yeah, in all the years I’ve come out here, I’ve never run into anyone. I think that’s the magic of the lake. Let’s get a few shots here, and I’ll ask a few questions. I’m going to run the article as a behind-the-scenes test of the app.” She winked at me. “And then we can call it a day, and you both can do what you want.”
My eyes swung to Sabrina’s. I liked the idea of alone time, just the two of us.
Sabrina didn’t look at me. “I have a Zoom meeting with the director of that documentary in a few hours, so this is probably as far as I’ll explore today.”
Yeah, I had a meeting this afternoon too. Funny how I’d forgotten that just now.
Cricket shrugged as if to say your loss, then got to directing the photographer on what shots she wanted. “Hey, Cal? I can call you that, right? You haven’t been on a date in how long? This is for the article.”
“Uhh, it’s been awhile. I’m really not sure of the date.” I bent over to check a saddlebag, not the least bit ready to see anyone’s expression or for them to see mine.”
“Was it even this year?” Cricket asked.
“What’s the next question?” This from Sabrina.
Thank fuck.
“Well, I know Sabrina’s been on some dates recently, and I’m not sure about Cal. But this date is more like an excursion. Are you really comfortable being out here together, and can you picture doing this with someone you recently dated?”
I looked at Sabrina. She adjusted her hat. “To be honest, no. I can’t see myself doing this with any of the guys I dated previously. Maybe it’s because Cal and I used to go riding for fun when we dated, so this feels familiar, normal.”
“I think that’s why the app suggested it,” I said.
Cricket gave us a thumbs-up. “One point for the app.” She continued with the questions and asked me for tips about wildlife safety. Then she stared at her phone a second. She looked at Sabrina. “About that blog I mentioned. The one hinting at your dad’s tax issues.”
Sabrina turned to me. “It hasn’t been picked up by any papers yet,” she said as though trying to reassure me. I’d warned her about this happening.
Cricket put out a hand to stop Sabrina. “I just got an alert. It’s getting traction. I think we should have a response. I can put out a statement. Before we rode out, Paul and I agreed that we don’t want to make a big deal about it, but we don’t want to ignore it either.”
Sabrina groaned as she dismounted and gave her horse a quick rub along the neck. “My dad never had any issues with taxes. Being diligent with taxes was nonnegotiable for him. It won’t stick.”
I dismounted as well. “It’s part of the smear campaign. It doesn’t have to be true to stick.” I told you so. I opened my mouth to tell her that but stopped because she had one finger pointed at me.
“Don’t say it.”
“I don’t have to. But I can see on your face how upset you are. Meaning the article has done its job.”
Instantly, she wiped her feelings away and hid behind her poker face. “I know you all said he would go after my dad, and I thought I was prepared, but I’m not going to lie. It hurts having him attacked.”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but she began wagging her finger at me.
“Don’t say it!” she cried.
“I wasn’t going to tell you I told you so.” I stepped toward her, wanting to wrap her in my arms and hold her until the awful feeling she was experiencing dissipated.
“You were going to say you were sorry, but you don’t have to apologize for someone else’s actions. I don’t want to hear an apology. I want to fight back.” She clenched her fists and held them up to her mouth as if they were keeping all the feeling words from escaping.
I wanted to find my father and pound his face in. Well, that was something I’d wanted to do every day, but watching Sabrina get pulled under this deadly current was hard as hell, a special kind of torture, just as I’d known it would be.
“Reenie.” I stood in front of her, rubbing a hand down her upper arm as I searched for words of comfort.
“Reenie?” Cricket asked.
Cori gasped. “Her dad used to call her that. I had totally forgotten until I heard it just now.”
I watched Sabrina cycle through her feelings.
“Ahhh,” said Cricket with a chuckle. “We’re gonna head out. We’ll see you tomorrow. Hurry, Cori, get on the ATV.”
Sabrina looked around me to them and shook her head. “You both are so obvious!” she called.
“Obviously wonderful friends!” Cori called back. Then she yawned and waved. “See ya.” They crept away. When they hit the valley, the sound of the ATV gunning it echoed across the land.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Her fists were still clenched. I eased my hands over hers and slowly worked to pry her fingers apart.
“They’re being stupid. Ignore them.”
“Reenie, it’s going to get uglier.” My fingers were entwined with hers, her arms between us. “We can stop this anytime.”
As I squeezed gently, an electric warmth shot up my arms and spread through my body. I felt our energy surge through me, and it was like a caveman-style drug making me feel horny and protective at the same time. My eyes did a quick dart to her lips, which were red from the wind and lingering lipstick.
She shook her head. “I was just caught off guard by the intensity of my feelings. There’s no validity to the claim, and it can’t hurt my dad. Just me. Now that this Band-Aid has been ripped off, I won’t be blindsided by the next one.”
“I will never hold it against you should you decide to quit at any time. Got it?”
“I’m not a quitter. But thank you.” She smiled, but her eyes spoke to her sadness.
Off in the distance, an elk made a loud, wailing bugle sound. Sabrina jumped toward me. I twisted to the side to grab her horse’s reins, catching them just as the mare was about to take flight.
“Oh no!” Sabrina pointed to my horse beating feet out of the valley. “For such a large horse, he really is a scaredy-cat, isn’t he?”
I handed her the reins, then put two fingers in my mouth and gave a low whistle. “This usually brings him back.”
“So he’s done this before?” She arched a brow as she ran her hand up and down her paint’s neck.
“Once or twice.” I waited a beat and whistled again.
Nothing.
“Looks like he’s gone gone.”
“Ha,” she said. “You think?”
“Don’t laugh. We’re going to have to ride back. Together.”
Her smile widened as she mounted her horse. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Two people can share a horse without it meaning anything, right, Cal?”
Either she did not feel our chemistry, or she was a master at hiding it. I would put my money on the latter. She might not want to be with me—breaking her heart had likely sealed our fate of being apart—but that didn’t mean we still didn’t have chemistry.
Sabrina patted the front of her saddle. “You can ride bitch.”
I gave her my Are you kidding me? look.
Her smile widened. “You can’t ride the skirt. Your feet will drag. You’re too tall.”
“Seems to be an issue for you,” I said.
“Not me. It’s not my problem. It’s yours.”
I studied her before making my decision. She was going to torture me regardless—sharing space did that to me. So I might as well do it in comfort. I grabbed the pommel like I was going to pull myself up in front of her but instead snaked my other arm around her waist and pulled her off.
She cried out. “Cal, what are you doing?” She toppled onto me, all legs and arms. I spun around, righted her, then planted her on her feet before snatching the reins she’d let go of and quickly mounting her mare.
“Now, who’s going to ride bitch?” I quirked a brow, my smile splitting my face.
She glanced at the rump, likely weighing her options.
“Sure, you can ride there,” I said. “We both know that’s not comfortable, but at least your legs won’t drag.” I held out my hand to pull her up. “Your choice.”
She took my hand. “You’re an asshole.” She stuck her foot in the stirrup over mine and let me lift her.
“So you’ve said.” I adjusted on the saddle so she had some space in front, but it was small, and when Sabrina took her seat, she was square in my lap. Her back was flush against my chest. Her spicy scent enveloped me. I closed my eyes and tried to gather my wits.
She looked over her shoulder and said in a husky, quiet voice, “Is there a problem?”
Hell yeah, there was a problem. Sabrina bouncing in my lap the forty-minute ride home was going to kill me. I was going to literally die from either a heart attack or an aneurysm. There was no way my blood pressure wasn’t absurdly high at the moment. I considered telling her I would slide back onto the rump, but she was right. My feet would drag, and my weight on the back part of the horse wouldn’t be good either.
“There’s no problem,” I said.
Yet. Give this ride ten minutes max, and we were going to have a problem. A hard one at that. It was going to be right there between us.