His Outback Cowgirl (Wildflower Ranch Book 4) (4 page)

BOOK: His Outback Cowgirl (Wildflower Ranch Book 4)
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Ethan continued to survey the white wisps that now blotted the sky. Every so often he’d stare at the rugged peaks that pushed their way through the heavier clouds and his mouth would soften. Henry had spoken the truth. Ethan belonged outdoors. Warmth crept through her. This cowboy was a rarity. He was both good looking and a good man. Free from conceit and arrogance, he’d left his home for the summer to care for a father who’d not be easy. He remained indoors and helped Henry with crosswords, suppressing his need to feel the wind on his face and the sun on his back.

Ethan reined in Captain so she could ride alongside him. He pointed to a group of delicate purple wildflowers growing in a low spire.

“I’m not sure if you have these in the outback but this is larkspur and the wildflower that the ranch is named after. As pretty as it is, it’s poisonous if cattle eat too much of it.”

“No, we don’t have it even though we do have our fair share of poisonous plants.” She looked toward a conical white flower that emitted a faint perfume. “Is that one poisonous too?’

“No, it’s beargrass, the wildflower Payton and Cordell’s ranch is named after.”

Bridie smiled. “I see a pattern. My brother’s ranch is Hollyhock Creek.”

Ethan matched her smile. She could have sworn the white flash of his slow grin made her lightheaded but it had to be the wind stealing her breath.

“Yes, the original pioneering families in this section of Paradise Valley all named their ranches after wildflowers. Down from Zane’s ranch there’s Fire Weed Ranch, your mom’s childhood home. Then there’s also Rose Crown, where Ivy and Rhett live and Bluebell Falls that Rhett’s sister, Peta, runs.”

“Zane’s already taken us to visit Fire Weed Ranch, even though no one lives there now. I’ve met Ivy and Rhett. Trinity is Ivy’s chief bridesmaid and whenever they talk wedding plans, Zane and Rhett have secret and urgent men’s business to discuss in the games room.”

Ethan chuckled.

Bridie stared. Ethan might sit on his horse all loose-limbed and relaxed, a poster boy for reliability and self-control, but his laugh alluded to a different picture. Deep, sexy and husky, it spoke of passions tightly contained. Passions that accounted for the not-so-steady look she’d earlier glimpsed in his eyes.

Goosebumps rippled over her arms and she had a sudden urge to flee. This man was all kinds of dangerous. Gorgeous, compassionate and good dangerous. He was also the worst possible person she could be around at the moment. A kind word, or a gentle touch like he’d shown Molly, and she’d be undone. Her emotional floodgates would burst and there’d be no stemming the torrent of her sorrow. She didn’t need empathy, she needed to be left alone to grieve without an audience.

As for the hidden, untold depths he kept so firmly in check, instinct told her if she ever locked lips with him, there’d be no turning back. He’d be more than a match for her own spirit and passions.

She nudged Molly forward. If she could just make the treeline and hear the wind rustle through the pine needles and smell the scents of the forest, it would tide her over until Friday.

“Race you to the trees,” she said, even as Molly leapt into a lope.

She thought Ethan called her name but the sound was muffled by the wind as Molly galloped toward the trees that fringed the meadow.

Bridie’s thoughts pounded in time with the mustang’s hoof beats. Everything would be fine. She just had to hang in there. The two days with Ethan would pass and then she’d be in the mountains by herself.

Everything would work out.

A fat, wet drop splattered her hand, and then another, before the heavens opened.

Chapter Three

“E
asy girl.”

Bridie slowed Molly to a walk but the mustang showed no nervousness at the sudden downpour. Despite the water darkening her coat, her ears remained forward and her steps sure on the slippery ground.

Movement flickered in the corner of Bridie’s eye, before Captain drew alongside her. Ethan’s shirt was plastered to his chest and water streamed from his Stetson. He pointed ahead and she nodded indicating she’d follow. Even though there’d been no flash of lightning or clap of thunder to scare the horses he was taking them somewhere to wait the rain out.

Bridie kept Molly close to Captain as they entered the treeline and then trekked single file through the slim trunks. The forest provided more shelter but the larger drops plummeting from the branches continued to drench her jeans and shirt. She shivered as a rivulet funneled between her breasts.

The trees thinned and then the landscape opened into a small clearing. Ethan continued toward a dark space beneath the brow of a ridge. She peered through the rain and realized it was a rock shelter. Without hesitation Molly followed Captain into the cavernous opening.

Ethan slid to the ground and using the side of his hand scraped excess water from Captain’s coat. Bridie dismounted and did the same thing to Molly. When the horses were settled, Ethan sat on a boulder. He removed his Stetson and tipped the water from its crown. The hat had kept his head dry and Bridie curled her fingers against the need to mess up his still perfect hair.

She wrung the water from her own hair, braided the damp strands and flicked the long braid over her shoulder. Ethan watched her, face inscrutable.

“What is this place?” she said, gazing around at the dark recess in which they sheltered.

“Cattle rustler’s cave.”

She fished in her wet jeans pocket and after two attempts maneuvered out her phone. “What a great name. If only the walls could talk, the stories they could tell.”

“They’d be colorful, that’s for sure.” Ethan inclined his head toward the rear of the cave. “Over the years Henry’s found old weapons and ammunition.”

Her back toward the horses, Bridie activated the flashlight on her phone and shone a beam of white light into the cave. She walked forward. “Where did he find them?”

Ethan chuckled and left his stone seat to stand beside her. “Nowhere you’ll be going today. We’re here to dry off and wait out the rain, not risk our necks climbing over rubble.”

Bridie took another step forward. Sheets of rain still blurred the landscape outside the cave. They could be there for a while. “I love exploring. Let’s take a look around.”

Ethan chuckled again but this time tension edged his laughter. “I’ve no doubt you like exploring but unluckily for you, right now I don’t. If we were to go deeper inside we’d need proper flashlights ...” He paused as a shiver shook her. “And warmer clothes.”

She shone her light further into the cave. Sure the temperature underground was cooler but if she was moving she’d stay warm.

“Bridie.” Ethan’s voice was quiet but as hard as the rock surrounding her.

She glanced sideways and wasn’t surprised to see his strong arms folded and his mouth firm. For a split second she contemplated going on without him but then she sighed, switched off the phone and returned it to her pocket. She needed to pick her battles. In their two days away there would be other times their wills would clash and times when she wouldn’t back down.

She followed Ethan as he returned to his seat. Instead of sitting beside him, she selected a smaller rock half a body length away. Her palm traced the smooth stone contours shaped by flowing water.

Ethan’s gaze tracked the slow glide of her hand. “This limestone’s been here since the ice ages.”

She stretched to touch the wall behind her. Her hand trembled as another shiver shook her. “That’s incredible. So old. This cave would have seen far more people than cattle rustlers?”

“Yes and frozen far more than one Aussie cowgirl.” Ethan scooted to his left and patted the space he’d left. “Here, move closer.”

She stayed still. There was no way she was getting up close and personal with Ethan even if it meant his body warmth would ward off her chill. She could take care of herself. Plus the thought of sitting near to him suddenly did strange things to her breathing. She might not be in search of The One, but she was only human and he was one hot cowboy. Her eyes flickered over him. Water glistened on the tanned skin of his throat where his top shirt button had worked free. The heavy wet cotton clung to his well-honed chest and shoulders.

“I’m good.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “The rain will stop soon.” But as she glanced past the dozing horses the downpour had thickened.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I didn’t ask you to move closer for you but ... for me. I’m as cold as the ice that would have filled this cave.” He held out his arm and she saw that goosebumps littered the tanned skin below his rolled up sleeve. “I also promise to mind my manners.” The corner of his mouth kicked into a grin. “I happen to want to keep my ribs intact.”

She gave into the smile in his eyes and the need to stay warm. “As if I’d damage your ribs? You then wouldn’t be able to ride. Don’t forget I’m supposed to keep you away from Henry for two days.”

She slipped into the space he’d left beside him. Her thigh rested against his. She sat straight and tall as the warm weight of his arm settled around her. Her message was clear. She wasn’t reliant upon him in any way, it was simply a mutual need that had them sit together.

“No, if you got a little too friendly,” she continued sweetly, “there are plenty of other body parts I could elbow.”

Ethan’s chest moved as his deep and husky laughter tickled the drying wisps of her hair at her temple. No longer did he smell of sundried laundry instead she caught the scent of wood and leather. She shivered but this time the tremors had nothing to do with being wet or the cold temperature of the cave. This time her body responded on a purely visceral level to the man holding her.

She wriggled and used the action to edge a little away from him. Nowhere in her plans to come to Montana to meet her half-brother and to grieve for her father had she factored in being attracted to a steady and slow-smiling cowboy. She wriggled again and drummed the heel of her right boot against the rock.

“Don’t you ever sit still?”

“Not often. I think the politically correct term my teachers used was ‘busy’.”

Ethan laughed softly and she fought another shiver. “And now you’re a ‘busy’ adult.”

“That’s right.”

Ethan’s arm lifted from around her and cool air replaced the heat of his touch.

“Just as well I know some tricks to keep a ‘busy’ adult still.”

He bent, studied the ground and then scooped up a small round pebble. “Here.” He uncurled her fingers and dropped the pebble onto her hand. “Play with this?”

She frowned. Not so much from what he’d asked her to do but from the sensation of his calloused fingers sliding over hers. The simple action warmed her from the inside out.

“Trust me.” He again put his arm around her. “It will help you sit still.”

Still frowning, she used her thumb to move the pebble. Warm from his touch, the stone rolled around in the hollow of her palm.

“How do you know this? You wouldn’t have been ‘busy’ as a child?”

“I wasn’t, but Cordell was. My mom found giving Cordell a pebble, or a small ball of putty to play with, helped him settle and focus.”

Bridie’s thumb continued rolling the pebble and she realized her heel had stopped kicking against the rock. “Your mother’s a smart woman.”

Beside her, Ethan stiffened. “She ... was.”

Bridie pulled away a little and turned to look into his shadowed face. From the haunted darkness of his eyes she knew she wasn’t the only one to grieve for a beloved parent. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” He glanced away. “She’s been gone over a year now but I still go to call her.”

“I do the same thing.” Bridie swallowed. “Do you ever think there’ll be a time when we won’t miss them so much?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. But I’ve been told that peace and acceptance will one day dull the pain.”

Bridie only nodded. Grief ached in her throat and she couldn’t speak.

Silence settled between them. The only noise to fill the cave was the steady sound of the falling rain that showed no sign of letting up. They weren’t going to leave anytime soon. She searched for a neutral topic that wouldn’t touch on their shared loss.

“So I’m guessing there’s a story behind the cattle rustler cave name?”

“Yes, this was the hideout for a gang of cattle rustlers. They started off stealing cattle, and then they got more daring and stole Henry’s grandfather’s prize Appaloosa stallion. Big mistake. Even though heavy rain had washed away all tracks, Noah Watson didn’t give up. Everyone thought the stallion would be long gone but Noah was convinced he was stashed somewhere local. He was a big white horse with red spots so would be easy to identify.”

Bridie nodded, needing Ethan to keep talking. His quiet and mellow tone combined with his body heat made her sleepy. An unexpected lethargy dragged at her eyelids. Between poor sleep and jet lag, it had been a long time since she’d felt so boneless. She softened the straight line of her spine and her right shoulder relaxed against Ethan’s chest. If Ethan noticed, he gave no sign. He continued talking, his words low and slow.

“So Noah combed the mountains for weeks and it was on his last trip home he rode by here. When his mare whinnied and a horse answered he knew the stallion was close. With only two ranch hands for backup, he found the cave and had a shoot out with the rustlers. The rustlers escaped but he saved his stallion and found a herd of missing cattle.”

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