CHAPTER SIX
They were sitting on his front porch, Sam in an old rocker nursing a beer, and Casey on the swing, rhythmically pushing her foot against the wood decking, as the swing launched her up and back while she took occasional sips from a glass of wine. The sun had just set and though it had been an unseasonably warm day, she pulled the big sweater Emma loaned her tighter around her torso.
It was her second full day working, and her third night at the ranch. She worried about her statement to Sam two days ago when she mentioned that the hotel in town would soon have rooms available. Would he bring it up?
She let the rhythm of the swing calm her concerns. Every joint, muscle, heck, every part of her body was sore. Even her eyelids ached. She was barely awake, and the chirp of crickets and bullfrogs making a racket from the small creek that ran alongside of the house, and Emma doing dishes, singing Christmas carols with the kitchen window cracked open a bit, lulled her into a near coma.
“You awake, Pickett?”
“Um, yes. Barely.”
“So, you’re tired. I told you so.”
“Nobody likes an I told you so, ranch man, and I’m not tired, I’m practically dead.” His laugh poured over her like warm butter dripping off a hot biscuit. She realized she’d started thinking in ranch life. And after only two days.
“Sorry.” He seemed lost in thought for a second or two. “Rick, my foreman, says you’ve become an expert at pitching hay.”
“My arms, shoulders, and back agree, sir.”
“Sam, Casey. It’s Sam.”
“I know. I guess I’m just fighting liking it here—” She looked across at him, his earnestness capturing a little piece of her heart. No, a big piece. “Sam.”
“You know the Pine Tree Inn should have rooms now. The auction ended last night.” Direct, as usual, but Casey could tell Sam had trouble making the offer. Maybe he didn’t want her to go?
“I know.” She wanted to add, why not stay until the car’s fixed? Casey didn’t care if her car was a total loss even if it was her current home. She decided to brave what she was thinking. “I’m not sure I want to leave, Sam. I’m learning a lot, and I’d have to move everything, plus then I’d need to run for exercise, and eat where?”
“Lulu’s place.” He’d bent at the waist and rested his elbows on his knees, rolling the beer bottle back and forth in his hands. “It’s good.”
“But I don’t want to hurt Emma’s feelings. She’s a fabulous cook, and yet careful about too much sugar.”
He interjected, “If you don’t count her cookies and pies?”
“Okay, there’s that, but the hard work destroys those extra calories. And besides, eating at Lulu’s? From what I hear, I’d just get fat.”
“Not likely, bones.”
“Hey.”
“Don’t worry, you’re perfect.” Casey nearly slid off the swing. Blood rushed to her face and she felt the blush, happy the porch was shadowed in growing darkness.
“I uh—” Nothing came out of her mouth.
He stood up and walked across to the swing. The beer in one hand, he stopped her swinging with the other. “Come on, cowgirl. We’ll find you frozen stiff in the morning if you stay out here much longer.”
Was he propositioning her? She hoped so. Casey let him pull her from the swing, but he didn’t stay close. Instead, he ushered her inside. “Besides, we all know you’re in it for the money.” She started to punch his arm in the same place she had in the truck three nights ago, but he was too quick. Holding her wrist, he leaned in, “Good night, Casey. Take some aspirin and get some rest.” He turned, and said, “I’m going out to check on the horses and Clementine.”
Casey stood staring as the door closed and cut off anything further between them. He wanted to check on a cow more than be with her? That stung. He wanted to kiss me. She was sure of it.
“Child, he’s a man.” Casey startled, surprised by Emma’s appearance into the alcove. “Sometimes they’re slower than melting ice at ten degrees, and thicker than a fence post.”
“I…”
“Like I said the first night you arrived, Casey, that man hasn’t brought a woman to this house in a long time, not one he much cared for anyway.”
“He’s got a weird way of showing any interest.” She tried smiling.
“Trust me. He’s got feelings for you.” Emma took the empty wineglass from Casey’s hand. “Now, what you need is aspirin, a hot bath with Epsom salt, and some warm cocoa. The salt is under the sink in the bathroom. I’ll be up with the cocoa and aspirin in a flash.”
“Emma, thank you. I—”
“Just go. You know what they say. Things are always brighter in the morning.”
Casey watched Emma disappear into the kitchen, praying the housekeeper was right about Sam. If not? She needed to pack her bags.
***
Sam stood in the barn and cursed himself. He’d hurt Casey. The pain he caused translated in her posture and the crestfallen look on her face. But sitting across from her on the porch, watching her swing two nights ago, he knew he was falling for her, vulnerable as she was. It scared the snot out of him, hence the cold-fish attitude since that encounter.
“Easy, Tilly.” He picked up a brush and pulled it across the sweet mare’s flank. The horse responded with a nicker and a head toss, then returned her focus to the hay box. He’d spoken to Natalie on the phone, explained he’d met someone he had feelings for, and she’d been ecstatic. He promised they’d talk more when she got home. Her last words before hanging up were, “Awesome, Dad. Can’t wait to meet her.”
Well, maybe he’d blown it. The attraction to her had been immediate. That and her apparent hopelessness. Maybe his behavior in the Dusty Boot and taking her home were because he needed to save something, someone. It didn’t matter now, because he’d avoided her for two days, knowing how close he’d been to kissing Casey more than once.
With two days to think, he now had a plan. Somehow, he’d make his newest ranch hand understand everything. Sam would confirm that Casey would stick around and then—who knew what could happen from there?