Chapter 12
LENNON
I had been at Mercy River Ranch for over a week now and not once had I visited the spa.
This was in part because, despite what the website had led me to believe, it wasn’t really a spa, but more importantly, Tamilee Jones was one of the two massage therapists, and I wasn’t sure I’d come out of it alive.
But rising before dawn to cook for a few dozen cowboys and half a dozen more guests made me ache in muscles I hadn’t known existed, so that afternoon I headed over.
The blonde woman behind the desk tossed aside her book the moment she saw me. “Lennon Graves! You’re here!”
I froze in place. No one had recognized me since I’d left New York, but I’d hoped to keep it that way, at least until Benny’s trial was over. The last time I’d heard from Hector was two days ago, when he’d told me the feds were deposing Benny’s associates, and for me to stay out of sight.
“You know who I am?” I whispered. That wasn’t good. People recognizing me meant I’d have to leave, and I didn’t have anywhere to go.
Her laugh was big, coming from such a small person.
“Of course I do. There are only five women who work at the ranch, and I’m one of them.
You’re not Holly and you’re not Tamilee or Cecily, so unless you’re the housekeeper they hired six months ago that I still haven’t met, you must be the guest everyone’s been talking about. ”
My shoulders had relaxed slightly as I realized she didn’t recognize me from social media or the news, but at those words, they shot right back up to my ears. “People are talking about me?”
“Girl, yes.” She laughed again. “Mercy River is a small town, and the ranch is an even smaller town. Entertainment is hard to come by. A pretty city girl like you getting our stoic cowboy all tied up in knots? Of course everyone is talking.”
“I didn’t do anything to Jeremiah,” I protested.
Her lips curved slyly. “I didn’t say it was Jeremiah.”
Oh. Right. My mouth opened and closed like a hooked fish. A stupid, stupid fish.
She burst out laughing. I had a feeling laughter was something she did a lot of. “I’m Emma Cole. What can I do for you, Lennon?”
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “A massage, please. If you have anything open. I don’t have an appointment.”
“Hm.” She consulted the computer. “Sure, I can fit you in.”
“Great. Thank you.” I hesitated. “It’s not…Who with?”
“Me.” She smirked. “Don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look.”
I eyed her doubtfully. She couldn’t be more than five-three and her figure was delicate. But I preferred a lighter touch when it came to massage, anyway. Emma was exactly what I needed.
Ten minutes later, I remembered the phrase Don’t judge a book by its cover. Emma might look like something I could fold up and put in my pocket, but the way she dug into the knots in my lower back was nothing short of fierce.
And the girl was a talker.
“I heard you won Blood Ball,” she said as her elbow followed the line of my shoulder blade with ruthless precision.
“Guh,” I grunted.
“That’s amazing. No one has ever beaten them before. I mean, they don’t usually let guests play because no one wants to see the ranch sued, but some of the ranch hands have given it a go. Two bruised ribs, one dislocated shoulder, and one broken ankle. Lots of blood.”
“Mmph,” I managed.
“Apparently no one got close enough to you to draw blood or even stop you from scoring.”
That had been my whole strategy. I had known they didn’t view me as a threat, and I had taken advantage of that. They were so busy knocking each other down that not one of them paid any attention to what I was up to. It wasn’t a strategy I could pull off twice, but who cared? I had won.
“Seb said you have Jeremiah to thank for that.” Her elbow paused. “Jeremiah,” she repeated. “That’s so funny. Every time I say his name, your muscles tense. Jeremiah.” My shoulder twitched, and she laughed. “Oh, girl. Looks like the stoic cowboy has the city girl in knots, too.”
There was no point in denying it. My body had betrayed me.
“He protected you, you know.” Emma’s hands glided up my back, her thumbs following the tight muscles next to my spine.
“I worked on Seb yesterday and he told me all about it. It wasn’t until they watched the video that they figured it out.
Do you know that man didn’t hit his own ball through a wicket a single time?
He was too busy knocking anyone down who came too close to you. ”
Jeremiah had protected me? That hadn’t occurred to me.
I’d kept a tally in my head of everyone’s points to make sure I didn’t end the game when I was down.
When I knocked my ball into the home pole, ending the game, it put me in first place by a mere ten points.
I’d known what all their scores were, but I hadn’t given any thought to why they played the way they did.
Why would he do that? I wasn’t in any real danger. Liam, Seb, and Mateo wouldn’t have knocked me down. Even Holly would have gone easy on me. Maybe she would have drawn a little blood, but nothing that would require a hospital visit.
“You should come out with us tonight,” Emma said. “Me, my sister Grace, Tamilee, and Cecily. We’re going to Sundown. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s always a good time.”
I considered. Hector had told me to lie low, but a dive bar in a town boasting a population of four hundred was still lying low, right?
No one in Mercy River cared about some New York City millionaire getting arrested for tax evasion, even if that millionaire had criminal ties.
Anyway, it had been a while since I’d had girl time.
But what was the point in making friends when I’d be gone in six weeks? On the other hand, friendship didn’t have to sprout roots. Some people were meant to be in your life for only a short time. That happened to be all my relationships, so why should Cecily and Emma be any different?
“Sure. I’d love to.”
I didn’t ask if the cowboys tagged along.
But I wanted to.
With the sun low in the sky, turning the mountains to fire, I found myself at a saloon called Sundown with a shot of tequila in one hand and a wedge of lime in the other.
“To our ancestors,” Cecily said, raising her shot glass. “May they look the other way tonight.”
“Lord, no, I’m not drinking to that,” Tamilee protested. “In this honky-tonk? I don’t think so. My ancestors better have their eyelids peeled back and their prayers ready. I did not survive Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell in the Marines to be taken down now.”
“What? There’s no way you’re old enough for that.” My eyes scanned her uncreased face. “I’ve been in Wyoming all of a week and a half, and my skin already feels like a dried-out mummy. I’ve aged ten years. What moisturizer do you use? Tretinoin?”
Tamilee patted my hand. “It’s not the moisturizer, baby. It’s the melanin. The same reason I’m not toasting to my ancestors closing their eyes.”
Emma laughed. “I don’t know how much trouble we can get into anyway with every one of our bosses sitting in that booth over there.”
For the thirteenth time since I had walked through the door, my gaze slid to where Jeremiah had claimed the outer seat of the booth. Seb was next to him, with Holly and Mateo sitting across from them. Four beers were on the table, but I hadn’t seen Jeremiah take a single sip of his.
“Liam’s not with them,” Grace Sherwood noted.
Grace was Emma’s older sister, and they had the same white-blonde hair, but her eyes were blue, not green.
She didn’t work at the ranch, but her fiancé, Alex, was a ranch hand there.
Grace taught fifth grade at the local elementary school. “Babysitting duty?”
Emma nodded with a little laugh. “Blair is probably painting his nails as we speak.”
“Um, excuse me, hello?” Cecily wiggled her fingers at the shot glass she still held up high. “Are you all really going to leave me hanging like this? We still have salt on our arms.”
Laughing, Grace clinked her glass to Cecily’s. “To girlfriends and cheap drinks.”
“Now, that I’ll drink to.” Tamilee raised her glass. “To girlfriends and cheap drinks.”
“To girlfriends and cheap drinks!” I chorused with Emma, both of us tapping our glasses with the others.
We licked the salt off our wrists, downed the tequila, bit the limes, then slammed our glasses on the wooden bar top. Warmth shuddered through me, leaving me a little looser in its wake. I wasn’t a big drinker, so when I did imbibe, it packed a punch.
“So, you were a Marine?” I asked Tamilee. I loved getting to know people even when I didn’t intend to know them for more than a night. People and their stories fascinated me. I recalled the “About Us” page on the ranch website, and how they had all served in the military.
Tamilee nodded. “That’s right. They paid for college and my DPT to be a physical therapist.”
“And the Marines is how you met Jeremiah and the others? I mean—” I bit my lime again. “I mean Seb, Liam, Mateo, and Holly?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t meet that lot until I came to Mercy River. It was Daniel Cole, Liam’s younger brother. I was his physical therapist when he was injured on his first tour. Daniel is the one who brought all of us here. He’s the linchpin.”
“My husband,” Emma added quietly, and I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t realized she was Liam’s sister-in-law. “Blair’s dad.”
Tamilee squeezed her hand. “That’s right.”
There was no wedding ring on her finger. Emma saw me look and gave me a tight, sad smile. “Widow.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. The words weren’t enough, but they were all I had.
She nodded, her green eyes shiny. “Thank you,” she said. “It was years ago, but I still cry. I cry about everything.”
Tamilee squeezed her hand again. “He was a good man. And, as I said, the linchpin of the group. He and Liam grew up here, you know. This was their family’s ranch for generations, but a few hard years back to back, and they had to sell.
Daniel had the idea of them all investing and being part-owners and opening up the ranch to paying guests. ”