Always a Cowboy (12 page)

However... Kind, compassionate and all those other qualities were important, but there was also the fact that he couldn't and wouldn't change his life. She'd have to do everything on that end. What was more, he was going to relocate those horses. She saw his point, but damn, she hated it. If it was up to her, the entire Carson ranch would be wild-horse heaven.

Her dissertation was getting more and more difficult to write. She powered up her computer and went back to work, anyway. Tomorrow was another day, as Scarlett O'Hara had declared, and she'd analyze it then.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

W
HAT
D
RAKE
WAS
doing felt like taking out a billboard ad on Times Square, but he didn't have much choice, did he?

He needed shaving cream and toothpaste, but that wasn't the main reason he'd made this trip to town. He eyed the display on the drugstore shelf and reminded himself that he wasn't sixteen, so he shouldn't be embarrassed. But this
was
Mustang Creek, and all the Romeo jokes were about to get worse. If he'd had the time, he would've driven out of Bliss County and shopped someplace else, where everyone didn't know him. But he didn't have the time; he was already going to use part of his morning to ride up with Luce, help her find a decent campsite. He had one in mind, since he and his brothers used to camp out in that area as kids.

He picked up a box of condoms and resigned himself to the fact that the cashier had greeted him by name when he entered the drugstore. He tried to look impassive as he walked to the counter to check out. Maxine was a sweet lady, but she played bridge with his mother in some women's church club, and there was something about buying condoms from a grandmother of six that made him feel like an adolescent.

With luck he'd need them. Maybe he should look at it that way. Maybe Maxine would just scan it and not notice.

She noticed, of course, with raised eyebrows. At least she didn't address it. Well, not directly, anyway. “How's Grace doing?”

He swiped his credit card. “Good. As far as I know. Slate jokes about her being touchy right now, but she's fine. I think she looks beautiful. He does, too.”

Maxine handed him the bag. “You are a very diplomatic young man.”

“I'm a cautious man,” he said and then winced at the unintended reference to his purchase. “Grace really
is
beautiful. I'm not just saying that.”

“I've seen her.” Maxine was now laughing at him as he tried to scramble around what he'd said. “That she is. Tell your mother and Harry I said hello.”

“Sure will.” He hotfooted it out of there. With Maxine's tendency to share information, it was a lost hope that everyone would think all he wanted was a clean shave. They'd almost certainly guess he wanted something else—and they'd know what that something else was.

Worrying about it gained him nothing, though, and he preferred not to waste his energy, so he drove home. He hadn't caught the weather report that morning, but he usually didn't bother with it anymore. Red was invariably correct. And this morning, as he'd predicted, there was a hint of rain in the air—a higher proportion of humidity, which signaled a change from sunshine and blue skies. Unlike Red, Drake wasn't a human barometer, but he'd lived outdoors pretty much his whole life. He could feel a front coming in.

Maybe he could talk Luce out of plans to camp up on the ridge.

Maybe he couldn't.

He already knew he'd lose the argument.

Maybe he didn't want to talk her out of it.

* * *

T
HE
MORNING
WAS
GORGEOUS
, but there'd been a reddish glow on the horizon at daybreak, and Red had warned her as he saddled Starburst that the weather might turn ugly at any time. He eyed her backpack and shook his head.

She assured him she'd be fine.

Drake had suggested they ride up together so he'd know where her campsite was, if she was hell-bent on doing this—his term, not hers. She was more than capable of pitching a tent on her own, but what he'd said made sense; if he really was going to join her later, he should know where to find her.

As she thought about spending the night with him, her stomach did an unfamiliar flip-flop.

“Wait for Drake,” Red advised, slapping the side of the horse. “This fella does whatever that boy says, but he doesn't listen to anyone else.”

Oh, yeah. Like she'd jump on and ride off. “No worries. Starburst and I are on good terms.”

“He does seem to like you. Here you go.” He handed her the reins and left her there, holding the horse. Her entire life, she'd heard that if you were nervous around horses or dogs or any other critter with four legs, they knew it and they reacted. So she stood very still and let Starburst take a gander. He was...huge. He sniffed her hair and nuzzled her shirt and apparently decided she wasn't all that interesting. To her relief, Drake walked in just as she was starting to feel she'd fallen short of the horse's expectations.

Drake looked startled, coming in wearing the usual ensemble of faded jeans, boots and, since the air was cool this morning, a red flannel shirt over his white T-shirt. Naturally, his two sidekicks trotted in right on his heels. “
You
saddled him?”

“No. Of course not! I couldn't saddle a turtle.”

“That's what I thought. Ryder did it?”

She could swear the dogs had that same inquiring expression.

“No, Red.”

Drake did laugh about the turtle comment, although that wasn't flattering.

She needed to learn the art of saddling a horse before she left Wyoming. A whole summer on a ranch and no saddling skills? Yup, she needed to learn.

“Red wouldn't leave you here alone with this big guy. No way.”

She took exception to that. “He says Starburst likes me.”

Drake nodded. “Starburst's kind of picky about people. I think he knows
I
like you, so he behaved himself. He's a decent guy.” Drake affectionately patted the animal's neck.

Luce was relieved to hand over the reins. “I assume that's what Red thought, too, or he's just so used to horses he figures everyone is as comfortable with them.”

“Hard to tell with Red. He seems like a down-to-earth soul, but he's a sight more complicated than that. He might've thought that you needed a nudge and counted on Starburst to realize it, too.”

“Do I need to apologize for not growing up on a ranch?”

He shook his head. “Now, don't try to make me feel sorry for you.”

“Sorry for me?”

“Everyone should grow up on a ranch.”

It wasn't as if she didn't realize she was being teased. “My parents have a beach house in Malibu, besides the place in Napa.”

“Little rich girl, huh?” He regarded her in that singular way he had. “You very carefully avoid the subject of your family. You want to study wild horses, but you're obviously not used to being around the domestic variety. Your camping equipment is top-of-the-line, and even though you dress down, I think you seem like a Napa girl. I'm guessing you got the invitation from my mother because she knows your family.”

It didn't surprise her that Blythe hadn't completely explained the situation to her son, considering the shameless matchmaking going on.

Okay, maybe it was time to come clean. Luce looked into those very blue eyes. “My mother and yours were best friends all through school in California. They took vacations together and were bridesmaids in each other's weddings—real best friends.
I
wrote to your mother, but I suspect there was a private conversation between the two of them. Trust me, I would never have agreed to stay at the house if I didn't know something about the person who invited me.”

“I wondered.”

“Yes.” She put her hands on her hips. “Why didn't you ask before?”

“That information should be offered, not gained by prying into your life.”

A valid argument—and perhaps an example of why animals liked him so much. He was laid-back and considerate and didn't invade a person's space. Usually...

He shrugged. “I just
did
.”

“Right,” she conceded. “And I answered. Now I'm headed up there.” She pointed in the direction of the mountains. “If we're going together, let's get moving.”

He checked the cinch, probably out of habit. “We can. Let me saddle your horse first.”

Her
what
?

“Drake, listen, I—”

“You'll take Grace's mare, Molly, since she's gentle. It'll be faster for both of us.”

He was already opening a stall and leading out a very beautiful horse and slipping a halter on her. “Wait while I get the tack. Give her a carrot. Hold your hand out flat like this.” He demonstrated. “That way she won't accidentally bite you, because she does love her carrots. I'll be back in a minute.”

Luce tentatively held out the carrot he'd given her, following his instructions. It worked out—hand intact, horse docile and happy as she crunched away.

Drake returned with the tack and made short work of it, expertly handling the straps and stirrups, then turned to help her into the saddle. “Ready? I'll take your pack.”

As she handed it over, he looked at her skeptically. “There's a tent in here?”

“Seven pounds or so. All-weather, plus a thermal blanket. I've camped before. Oh, and a lunch, courtesy of Harry.”

“Then you're ready.”

No, she really wasn't. “I didn't count on this when I got up.”

“On what? Riding a horse? Things aren't always what we expect them to be. Happens to all of us. I'll give you a leg up. Just relax, and she'll do the rest.” He caught her around the waist and balanced her as she tentatively put one foot in the stirrup. “It'll be fine,” he reassured her.

Easy for him to say. However, she did manage to land in the saddle. As he adjusted the stirrup length, he said, “Hold the reins loosely and only use them to communicate with the horse, let her know what you want her to do. This little lady is well trained or Slate would never let Grace ride her. She'll probably just do whatever my horse does. The worst thing that can happen is you fall off, and even the most experienced rider takes a tumble now and then. You get up, dust yourself off and climb back on—just like that old cliché says.”

Two seconds later, he was in the saddle, too, and Molly was docilely following Starburst out of the stable.

Once she'd begun to relax, and the horses were walking at a sedate pace, the experience wasn't as intimidating as she'd feared. In fact, with Drake right next to her, the ride was a surprisingly soothing and pleasant experience. Beautiful mountains, handsome man, cool breeze... What more could a girl want?

He pointed to a huge animal grazing by itself in an enclosed pasture. “That's Sherman. Jim Galloway's lined up some good leads on new bulls for me. Sherman's done his time. My father picked him out and I'm pretty fond of that cranky critter. I'm hoping to get one a lot like him. He's dangerous—all bulls can be dangerous—but he's cooperative unless he's riled up. He hates change, so if we keep his routine the same, he's fine. By the way, did you know Slate wasn't always Mr. Showbiz? He competed on the rodeo circuit for a couple of years during college. He was decent at it, too. Those trophies in his office aren't just for his documentaries.”

“I noticed them when I was in there.” She stopped, not wanting to mention the image of a moonlit kiss. “Come to think of it, I haven't seen
your
office.

His smile was wry. “Don't have one. I keep a ledger and receipts on an old table in the tack room and I bring them to the accountant once a month. Can you picture me sitting in an office? No, thanks. My mother handles everything to do with the house and, of course, Mace takes care of the winery.”

“I see what you mean. But I can't picture you in tennis whites, either, although I know you played in college.”

“I needed something physical to do if I couldn't have all this for four years.” He gestured at the vista around them. “Sending that ball over the net at a hundred miles an hour releases the frustration.”

“I heard you could've gone pro.” She was pushing it, getting so personal, but that wasn't any more personal than what he'd done—yanking her into his arms and kissing the heck out of her.

“I hate crowds.”

That was the Drake Carson she was coming to know. Explanation over in three words.
A possible Grand Slam title and cheers from the stands? No, thank you. I'd rather saddle up, ride out at dawn and get back after dusk, dirty and tired.

The man wasn't interested in glamour, but she wasn't, either. All those fancy wine-tasting parties with appetizers and swirly dresses were fine once in a while, but they weren't anything special. Not to her—no doubt because she'd grown up with people who talked about the stock market at dinner and drove cars that cost more than some people's houses. Drake was right; she was a rich kid, and her parents would've been happier if she'd decided to become a doctor or a lawyer. Ecology was just more interesting. She loved nature and that was why she enjoyed hiking so much. Looking at film and photographs of the great outdoors was fine, but experiencing it was very different. When her father had suggested a trip to Europe, he'd meant Rome and Paris and London; she'd accepted his offer and hiked the Alps instead.

“I prefer being outside myself.” Luce drew a deep breath. “This is a breathtaking place, but so is Napa.”

“Are we making comparisons here? Or choices?”

What a question! She floundered for an answer. “Should I be? The only choice I made this morning was to let you force me up on this horse.”

“You chose to
let
me
force
you? Hmm. Sounds like a bit of a contradiction.”

“Give me a break,” she said tartly. “I'm concentrating on not falling off.”

“Or into my arms?”

Now she truly had no idea what to say. Drake Carson was teasing her. Again. She came up with a retort, although it took her a moment. “At least you don't seem to have any lack of confidence, despite your flaws.” A little weak, perhaps, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

They were in a meadow of wildflowers that smelled heavenly. He swept off his hat and scratched his head, pretending to consider that, but his mouth was twitching with laughter. “Flaws, huh? Care to be more specific? I'm always up for self-improvement.”