Chapter Seven
F eeling ridiculously pleased with herself, Peyton settled back into the plush, tan leather captain’s seat in Drew Neisson’s big black truck. The early summer, noontime sun glinted off the gleaming truck’s hood and bathed the green irrigated fields and scattered scrub brush in a shimmering glow.
She really loved when things went her way. And ever since leaving the Double H, her family’s ranch, to join the cast and crew of the Buckin’ TV reality—ish—show, things had definitely been going her way.
Even with her family’s attempt to hobble her from afar.
She glanced at the handsome profile of the man seated next to her, driving the truck. His square jaw and straight nose were in perfect balance to the white cowboy hat that he wore pulled low on his brow. His emerging blond beard stubble was clearly visible even though it was barely past noon. But it was the long, thick, dark blond lashes framing eyes so light blue they seemed transparent from the side that created a flutter low in her belly. Or maybe it was his full but masculine lips.
He’d remained mostly silent during the drive toward Mt. Bachelor, which surprised Peyton. Most guys practically burst with questions about why she did whatever she happened to be doing, especially considering who her family was. Invariably, the questions always circled around to her family. And their billions.
But not Drew. Those tempting lips of his remained firmly closed. Maybe because his own grandfather had established a sort of dynasty of his own within the rodeo world. Or maybe because he simply didn’t care.
Peyton forced her gaze back to the incredible view of the string of still snowcapped mountains growing closer with each passing mile. She pointed at the very distinct, very tall mountains. “Which one is Bachelor?”
Drew spared her a quick glance, then lifted a finger off the wheel and directed it toward the last peak in the string of mountains. “That’s Mt. Bachelor. The next, shorter one is Broken Top, then South Sister, Middle Sister, and North Sister.”
She smirked. “The Sisters and the Bachelor?”
“The Three Sisters, to be precise. And Mt. Bachelor, all on his lonesome. And because it’s a clear day, on the north end, that’s the tip of Mt. Washington and then Mt. Jefferson.”
“That’s a lot of mountains.”
“I consider us blessed.” He shrugged.
She nodded. “You are not wrong.”
Peyton did her best to take in the view before her. The rugged, high desert landscape, complete with patches of bare, ancient lava rock, gradually gave way to a more forested landscape as they climbed in elevation. Eventually, the mountains were playing peekaboo behind the increasingly thick pine forest of the foothills visible out the truck’s front windshield.
Blessed or not, Drew Neisson was nothing more than an unexpected ticket out of the only part of participating on Buckin’ TV she didn’t care for. As much as she loved having the chance to travel the country, meeting new people like the increasingly intriguing cowboy driving her toward her next adventure and, most of all, getting to experience the rush of riding some truly amazing bucking broncs, she wasn’t a fan of the often staged, pseudo-real-life activities Natalie Polk cooked up for the lady bronc riders.
Peyton understood Nat had a season’s worth of half-hour shows to produce. It couldn’t be easy to generate that much content when the actual action only accounted for eight seconds. Peyton didn’t begrudge the older woman’s attempts to do her job as well as she could. But Peyton was also well aware of why she’d been chosen to be on the show, and she did everything she could to fulfill the rich girl overcomes illness storyline by riding to the best of her abilities. And she’d promised herself a long time ago that she wouldn’t waste one single second that she’d been blessed with on this earth.
She intended to live.
As if to punctuate the thought, her stomach growled. Loudly.
Drew glanced at her.
Her cheeks heating because she’d been the one to insist they leave before eating more than a bite of their lunches, she pressed a hand to her belly.
It responded with an even louder grumble.
A corner of Drew’s mouth tipped upward. “Feel free to dig into one of those sandwich boxes. Unless you can wait until we get to the West Village Lodge of the Mt. Bachelor ski resort. It’s open pretty much year ’round, with food and drinks, and the patio has a really spectacular view.”
Because Peyton had no intention of sitting around, enjoying a spectacular view from a boring old patio, she twisted in her seat and reached behind her to grab the to-go box she’d shoved onto the passenger side of the backseat. Once she had it, she turned back around and settled it on her lap. The minute she opened the folded over flaps of the white box, she was assaulted in the best way possible by the heavenly smell of the Reuben and thin, crisp fries.
Looking from the Thousand Island oozing sandwich to the pristine interior of the well-maintained truck cab, she asked, “Are you sure you want me eating this in here?”
Without taking his eyes of the road, Drew gave a silent scoff. “This is a rodeo rough stock ranch truck. It can stand a little Reuben sauce.”
Clearly, he hadn’t seen her eat enough. “If you say so. Do you want to eat yours?”
“No, I’m good.”
She returned her attention to the open box on her lap. Luckily, Meg had stuffed a wad of napkins in the box, so Peyton would be able to contain any mess she would undoubtedly make. She proceeded to devour the sandwich and a substantial amount of fries.
Drew glanced at her approvingly. “You’d get along with my sister. She could have a career as a competitive eater. Especially now that she has a little one to chase after.”
“What’s your sister’s name?” Peyton asked around a mouthful. She couldn’t remember if Sammie had mentioned his sister’s name when she’d done an internet search on the family, and Drew hadn’t told Peyton her name when he’d talked about her helping with her husband’s bull program because of her affinity for bull calves.
“Caitlin.”
Peyton swallowed the last bite and wiped her mouth with the remaining clean napkin. “And her little one?”
“My niece, Becca. Short for Rebecca. She’s named after our mom.”
Suddenly Peyton wished she hadn’t stopped Sammie from reading what she’d found about his family on the internet. She could always ask him outright about his mom, but then he might want to know about hers, and she wasn’t in the mood to share.
“That’s very sweet,” she said as she set the now empty to-go box at her feet.
“Yeah.” The one word held a lot of weight that Peyton couldn’t interpret.
She let the subject drop.
They rounded a corner in the four-lane road they’d been traveling on, and Mt. Bachelor appeared before them, a perfect melty ice cream cone of a mountain. As they drove nearer, she could clearly see the lift lines and ski runs branching out in every direction like spider veins.
She squinted and pointed at the very tippy top of the perfectly formed cone of a mountain. “Is there a building on the top?”
“It’s the top of the Summit chairlift.”
“Meaning you weren’t kidding when you said you could ski down from the top of the mountain?”
“I was not. Can’t say that I’ve done it since I graduated from high school, but an awful lot of people who live in Bend do it every day in the winter.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Says the girl from Texas.”
She conceded his point with a shrug. “Can we go up there now?”
“No. That particular ski lift only runs in the winter. But do you see that structure halfway up the mountain, there?”
Peyton followed with her gaze where he was pointing. Though it blended in with the rocks it was built upon, she spotted a surprisingly large, low building on a mid-mountain outcropping. “I do.”
“That’s Pine Martin Lodge. It’s open now.”
“How do you get there?”
“The Pine Martin lift.”
She nodded as if he’d just told her the sky was blue. “Of course. Where do we catch it?”
“We won’t need to. The West Village Lodge, at the base of the Pine Martin lift, will be good enough.”
Says you.
In her out loud voice, she merely murmured, “Mmm hmm.”
*
Drew couldn’t help but smile at the excitement and unabashed awe glowing on Peyton’s beautiful face as she sat as far forward as his truck’s seat belt would allow, seeming to take in every inch of the nine thousand odd foot mountain looming before them. He found himself seeing the mountain anew, appreciating its beauty in a way he couldn’t remember doing for a very long time.
As he drove them past the entrances to the Sunrise Lodge, the Junior Race Center, and on to the main West Village Lodge and Nordic Center with the vast parking area between, he explained what each was as best he could. And he couldn’t help but get swept up in the wonder of it all.
The acres of parking were mostly empty, though there were a few dozen cars parked in haphazard rows near the ticketing and gift shop building set into the rise that led up to the day use lodge. Drew parked as near as he could to the concrete walkway that zigzagged its way up the slope to the West Village Lodge. The lodge’s patio was accessed by heavy duty metal stairs built to withstand the weight of a lot of snow, now melted away except for the highest elevations.
After they climbed from the truck and met in front of the hood, Peyton looked to him, her excitement palpable. “Skiing is closed now, right?”
He looked to the rocky and even grassy slopes above them that seemed impossibly steep without their normal feet upon feet of snow. “Definitely.”
She looked at the cars in the lot. “So, all these people are…?”
“Mountain biking, hiking, having lunch at the lodge…” He trailed off and shrugged. “I can think of worse places to spend an early summer day.”
Her attention settled on the ticketing and general guest services building nearest them. “I need to use the restroom.” She turned and briskly started for the nearest entrance.
He hurried to follow her, figuring he could browse in the gift shop while he waited for her, but Peyton half turned toward him.
“Why don’t you go on up to the patio and find us a good place to sit?”
“I can come with you. I’ll wait in the shop.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “I’m not one of those women who can’t go to the bathroom by herself. And I can see the patio up there. I won’t get lost. Promise.”
Peyton Halliday getting lost wasn’t what worried him. But aside from buying her weight in knit caps and sunglasses, he couldn’t think of any way for her to get herself in trouble. “Okay. See you right up there.” He pointed at the stairs leading to the lodge patio and changed direction.
She touched a finger to the brim of her cowboy hat and trotted off to the ticketing and guest services building.
Drew made himself turn away so he wasn’t tempted to watch her backside the same way he had her front.
Clinical, not personal.
He shook his head as he started up the path to the day use lodge’s vast concrete patio. He couldn’t believe how often he was having to remind himself of something that was normally second nature to him. But Peyton Halliday wasn’t the typical patient he would normally see in the clinic. Nothing about this was typical or normal. He was only dogging her heels to secure the chance to improve and sustain the sports medicine clinic. To secure his future. At least, the only future he’d wanted for a very long time.
As Drew climbed the slotted metal stairs leading to the patio, a sense of unease unfurled in his gut. He really shouldn’t have allowed her out of his sight. At least not this far. Once he reached the patio, instead of choosing one of the unoccupied tables and chairs to sit at to wait for Peyton, he turned around to go back down the stairs.
And found Peyton at the base of the stairs ready to climb them with sheaves of paper clutched in one hand.
She glanced up, saw him, and raised her coppery eyebrows. “No tables?”
He hesitated. Did he tell her there were plenty of tables, but he hadn’t trusted her to be on her own?
She waved her own question away. “It doesn’t matter. Turns out we don’t have time to sit down.”
The hair on the back of Drew’s neck stood on end. “What—?”
“Come on!” Peyton waved him down with the papers she held and skirted the stairs. “You can sign your release at the yurt.”
“My release ?” The unease in his gut exploded into full-on dread. “Peyton!” he called after her, but she was already out of sight. Banging his way down the metal stairs, he yelled, “What did you do?”
She didn’t respond. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, using the handrail to slow his momentum and swing himself in the direction she’d disappeared, he spotted her jogging toward the brown canvas yurts erected atop wooden platforms.
Without turning, she yelled, “Come on, Dr. Neisson! Your zip line awaits!”
Drew stopped so fast dirt and gravel kicked up as if he were a kid who’d just bombed down the hill trails on a mountain bike. Zip line?
His gaze leapt to the yurts Peyton was practically skipping toward and the additional platforms on either side of them. One was a few feet off the ground with a pair of cables stretching only a couple dozen feet. A practice line? The other platform that was farther away from the canvas structures was significantly taller, and the thick cables attached to it led somewhere up the mountain and looked very much like power lines.
At that moment, the air was filled with a high-pitched buzzing, almost whining sound, followed by distinctly feminine shouts of “ Woohoo! ”
Drew followed the sound just in time to spot two women riding the zip line down at shockingly fast speeds. Drew’s heart lurched into his throat, believing there was no way the women would be able to survive hitting the literal end of the line, until he realized part of the whining sound he was hearing was a brake of some sort being applied to the cable. By the time the riders reached the platform, where Drew now noticed two employees waiting beneath each cable, the women had slowed their mad descents to gentle glides that the employees were able to easily halt. They were eased to their feet and released from the carriage.
They promptly high-fived each other.
Drew looked back at Peyton and found her jumping up and down in shared jubilation.
He was so screwed.
She jumped in his direction, caught sight of him just standing there, and waved him toward her again.
Would her family pull the clinic funding because he let her go zip-lining?
Would they pull it because he stopped her, but she went back to the rodeo and climbed on another rank bronc or, God help him, a bull and became seriously hurt?
He looked up the mountain, for the first time noticing the series of towers and connecting cables. No matter how fast the descent, it would take some time to gear up, ride the Pine Martin chair lift up to midmountain where it appeared the first and highest tower had been erected. Maybe Peyton would miss her slotted ride in the exhibition tonight.
It might just be worth it.
Peyton had made it to the steps leading up to the yurts and turned to holler at him. “Come on, Drew! Hurry! Our group is up next!”
Deciding his odds of stopping her were pretty thin unless he resorted to a physical intervention in the form of tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her back to his truck, Drew broke into a trot to appease her.
By the time he reached the stairs, Peyton had already hurried up them and handed the papers she held to an employee, then pointed at Drew and spoke excitedly.
The young man, wearing a Grip It and Zip It hooded sweatshirt, separated one paper and held it and a pen out to Drew. “You have to sign this, sir.”
Assuming it was an if I die, I won’t sue form, Drew nodded and mounted the stairs. Slanting a look at Peyton, who smiled beguilingly back at him and made his gut clench with unexpected desire, he initialed and signed where required. Hopefully, no one noticed his hand shaking.
The kid took the paper and pen back and asked them both to stand on a scale, explaining that they needed exact weights to match each rider with the proper harness system.
Peyton didn’t hesitate, stepping on the scale, then laughed and patted her tummy. “Reuben baby.”
The kid sent her a panicked look, and Drew rushed to reassure him. “She’s talking about her lunch.”
Belatedly getting her joke, the kid released his breath and directed them into the yurt where they found additional employees showing three other couples how to step into and tighten their harnesses, don helmets, and secure backpacks holding the carriage that would attach to the zip-line cable. Once Drew and Peyton were matched with the proper equipment, everyone was required to watch a short video on how to sit back in the harness and operate the hand brake on the carriage.
Peyton could barely contain herself, bouncing on the toes of her boots. Drew found himself being sucked in by her enthusiasm to the point that when it was finally time for them to take their practice ride on the very short and very low zip line, he was raring to go also.
He didn’t even begrudge her “Yeeha!” when she launched herself off the practice platform. While he had serious concern about where the harness’s padded thigh loops met in his crotch, he couldn’t deny that riding the line was fun.
After everyone had a chance to practice, the group was led to the chairlift that had been fit with special racks to carry mountain bikes up the mountain. He and Peyton were seated on a chair meant for four, but he made sure she sat close.
Seemingly unconcerned by the ground dropping away from them, she hooked an arm around his. “Thank you for doing this with me. When I read about it online, I knew I had to find a way to do it while I’m here.”
“I’m sure Natalie would have loved to get you and the other ladies on camera doing something like this. Talk about a camera-worthy setting.” He extended his free hand to the mountain rising above them, covered with fresh grass and alpine flowers where there weren’t dirt trails, crags of volcanic rock, and patches of snow clinging stubbornly to highest or shadiest points.
Peyton shook her head. “No. This kind of thing is strictly for me.”
“Is that why I was given this assignment? So you’d have a way to do the extracurricular activities you want to do?”
She looked away from him. “No. That is not why you were given this assignment.”
Drew waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
Instead, she twisted on the padded lift seat to look behind them. Drew couldn’t help but pin the arm that she’d wrapped around his tight against his body. It was a long way down, and the rocks below them deadly.
“Wow,” she exclaimed. “Now that’s a view.”
Drew found himself appreciating the beauty of the landscape in a way he hadn’t for a very long time. When he looked back down at her, he found her watching him. Her light hazel eyes glowed molten in the sunlight.
“Thank you, Drew. Seriously. Thank you.”
He swallowed hard but had to settle for a simple nod in acknowledgment. She was so damn pretty. And earnest. And the temptation to lean close and kiss her was palpable.
He was so screwed.