3. Sage
SAGE
“Maybe I will,” I mutter.
I wasn’t expecting my first encounter with a real-life cowboy to go this way.
I assumed all this fresh air and rugged scenery would make someone more cheerful.
Not that I’ll actually mention his attitude to the owners.
With any luck, I won’t have much to do with him once he’s safely delivered me to the ranch.
A short while later, we pass beneath a large wooden sign with the Wild Ember name burned into it. But instead of continuing toward the largest cluster of lights like I expect, Holden turns off the main road onto a gravel track that seems to lead into the foothills.
My stomach flip-flops. “Um… where are we going?”
“To your cabin.”
“Why is it so far away?”
His jaw twitches. “It’s the only one available at the moment.”
I peer over my shoulder at the lights disappearing behind us. “How am I supposed to get back down tomorrow morning without a car?”
“Lucky for you, you’ll have someone to drive you.”
From his tone, I’m sure I already know the answer, but I have to ask. “And that will be…?”
His dark brows draw down. “Me, apparently.”
I wince. Even if his grumpiness rubs me the wrong way, I get it.
He’s been dragged out into the rain to rescue me, and now he’s stuck driving me around all because I crashed my car.
Which is particularly frustrating because I bought the used compact SUV based on reviews that said it was safe and reliable.
I guess they weren’t anticipating mountain storms or suicidal deer either.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize again for the inconvenience, but a stubborn spark in my chest holds me back. He hasn’t made any effort to be nice, and I don’t think he cares whether I do. In fact, the friendlier I try to be, the more annoyed he seems to become.
So I stay silent. At least until we drive past the tree line and the road becomes pitch-black beyond the reach of the truck’s headlights.
I’m supposed to stay up here, alone in the dark?
Shifting forward, I grip the dashboard and peer through the trees. Maybe this horror movie will end with me running through the forest, a knife-wielding maniac slashing at the air behind me, rather than being devoured by wolves and bears.
“Does anyone else live up here?” I try to sound nonchalant but fail pretty miserably.
“Yep.”
My hand tightens on the dash, and I turn toward him, making the connection. “Let me guess. It’s you.”
His terse nod has me slumping back into my seat. What did I do to deserve this? The next three months are supposed to be my reset. A chance to step away from the wreckage of my relationship and my career and spend time with Mia and Ruby.
It’s not like I expected life out here to be just like New York. I wanted an escape from the city. I just didn’t expect to be stuck with a grumpy-as-hell cowboy for company instead of my friend and her daughter.
Which reminds me. As soon as I get to this cabin of mine, I’ll need to charge my phone and call Mia to let her know I’ve arrived safely.
Though as we jounce over another bump in the road, I reconsider the safely part.
Eventually, the silence starts to get to me. “I’m surprised there are cabins this far away from the main ranch.”
“Most of them are closer,” he says without looking away from the road. “The new guest cabins are on the valley floor. These are mostly used as temporary accommodation during spring and summer roundups, when we hire extra hands.”
“Does that mean you’re staying here temporarily?”
I should probably cool it with the questions, but I’m curious by nature. Especially now that I know Holden is going to be my unfriendly neighbor. I need to figure out what makes him tick.
“It’s where I live,” he replies.
I assume that’s all he’s going to say, but he keeps going.
“I like the peace and quiet—and not having anyone around.”
I do my best not to roll my eyes. Now that I’ve regained my equilibrium, his grumpiness is almost funny.
At least it’s not fake like Graham’s smooth charm turned out to be.
But I’m here to do a job, and I’m going to do it well.
If this guy wants to keep me at arm’s length, I’m okay with that.
It doesn’t mean I’m going to tiptoe around him just because he’s got an attitude.
A few minutes later, the truck’s lights flash across a clearing, turning the falling rain silver, then skim along the wooden walls of a small log cabin.
Holden pulls up so that the front of the building is illuminated.
As I take it in, my heart gives an unexpected bounce.
Maybe I should be dismayed by how rustic it is compared to my apartment in New York, but I’m not.
Three low wooden steps lead up to a porch that runs the width of the cabin. A rocking chair tucked into one corner has me imagining curling up there with a book and a coffee. The windows might be dark, but they’re large. I’m sure they let in plenty of sunlight during the day.
This might not be so bad after all.
Forgetting who I’m with, I beam at Holden. “It’s so cute.”
His brows knit together, and he glances from me to the cabin and back again, as if he were expecting a more horrified reaction. Given the comments he’s made, he’s clearly made assumptions about me.
Well, I’ll show him where he can shove his assumptions.
Without waiting for a response, I swing the truck door open and jump out.
Unfortunately, I miscalculate how high I am and how slippery the ground is. My sneakers slide out from under me, and my knees hit the dirt. I yelp as gravel bites into my skin through the thin fabric of my skirt.
A muttered curse comes from behind me, followed by the squeak of the driver’s door.
I close my eyes and hang my head, focusing on breathing. So much for disproving his assumptions.
He squats in front of me, and even the sting in my knees doesn’t stop me from noticing how the damp denim tightens around his muscular thighs.
Seriously? I’ve just embarrassed myself in front of a man who already thinks I’m useless, and I’m noticing his thighs. Damn it, I can’t be distracted by a man in a good pair of jeans right now.
“Are you hurt?”
He actually sounds concerned, which, after everything that’s happened, is enough to make the backs of my eyes prickle. When he grips my chin and tilts my face up to his, I blink away the tears blurring my vision before he can see them.
Pulling away from his touch, I carefully push myself to my feet. “I’m fine.”
Surprising me again, he takes my hands and holds them palm-up, his thumbs ghosting over them in a way I’m not sure he’s aware of. He gently brushes away some grains of dirt, and the roughness of his calluses sends the smallest shiver down my spine.
Luckily, apart from a little tenderness, my hands seem fine. The same can’t be said of my still-stinging knees. I scrunch my nose at the specks of blood that have already seeped through my skirt.
“Colorado, two; Sage, zero.” I force out a small laugh. Then, realizing my hands are still in Holden’s, I quickly pull them back.
He eyes me a little warily. “You should be more careful.”
“Thanks, Doctor Sunshine. I’ll try harder not to face-plant next time.”
He grunts, then nods at the cabin. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll take care of your knees.”
“I told you; I’m okay.”
He quirks a dark brow. “Yeah, you sure look like you’re doing okay so far.”
I glare at him. “You are the most—ugh.” Spinning, I go for the handle of the truck’s back door. I just want to get my stuff and get away from him.
But he stops me with a hand on my arm. “I’ll get these. Go inside.”
Too tired and irritated to argue, I stomp toward the cabin, ignoring the way my knees smart as I climb the steps and wait for him by the front door.
Holden is apparently intent on proving what a man he is by carrying my two suitcases in one hand and my laptop and accessories bag in the other, with my camera bag slung across his chest.
I guess cowboys aren’t into making multiple trips either.
Instead of putting my bags down and pulling out a key, he jerks his chin toward the door. “You mind?”
I blink. It’s not locked?
The handle turns easily, and the door swings open.
Well, what do you know? Clearly, I’m not in New York anymore.
No one I know would dream of leaving their house or apartment unlocked.
Holden waits until I enter first, even though he’s carrying all the bags.
As if he’s some kind of gentleman in disguise.
I fumble for a light switch, and when the light flicks on, I move deeper inside. It’s a little stuffy after being shut up, but fresh, rain-scented air from outside is already beginning to fill the space. I turn slowly, taking it in, and my heart skips a little.
The main room has a stone fireplace, a squishy-looking leather couch, and a television to the left.
To the right is a kitchenette with a small table and chairs.
The furniture is mismatched but solid, and a metal reading lamp sits at one end of the couch.
A partially open door at the back of the room reveals the corner of a patchwork quilt-covered bed.
It’s quaint and homey and kind of perfect.
I smile at Holden. “I love it.”
“That’s good.” Without another word, he moves past me to the bedroom and places my bags on the bed.
Shaking my head, I turn away from him and run my fingers over the soft, well-worn leather of the couch, then the cool stone of the fireplace mantel. Footsteps from behind make me turn. He holds up a small first-aid kit.
“Let’s get this done.”
“Where did you find that?” I ask as I take a seat on the couch.
He sets it on the coffee table and pops it open without looking at me. “Every cabin has one under the bathroom sink.”
“Good to know,” I murmur as he sits beside me.
Deep blue eyes, fringed by lashes as dark as his hair, meet mine. “I might need to replace yours with a bigger one.”
I blink at him. Did he just make a joke?
He looks away before I can respond, pulling an alcohol wipe from the supplies in front of us. “Can you pull up your skirt?”