It Had to Be You (45 page)

“Uh-oh,” he said as the clouds slammed into each other violently, covering every inch of visible sky.

Even as she watched, they tumbled and churned, lowering until she felt as if she could reach up and touch them. “Okay, listen up, everyone! We’ve had a great time today—”

“Ah, man, you’re going to make us head back,” one of the guys groaned.

“Up to you. But the rain is coming. Either way, we have to get back off the valley floor to the canyons above in case of flash flooding. But if we leave now, we could gallop a good part of the way and make it to the ranch in two hours tops. Plenty of time to get a roaring fire going inside and sleep in warm beds.”

“So we make the choice between warm”—Wes looked around them even as the sky opened up, as another resonating shuddering boom of thunder vibrated the ground beneath their feet, followed immediately by a blinding flash of lightning—“or wet and wild. Hmm…” Eyes lit with adventure, he looked at his friends.

“Wet and wild,” voted all the other guys, with whooping and cheers.

Eddie looked at Jake, who shook his head. Smithy pointed northeast to a rock formation not too far off, beyond the dry riverbed they stood in. “Looks like a naked chick. We need a picture of us beneath it.”

“All right,” Callie said. “But after we get there and take the picture, we go up.”

They rode on toward the rock formation, Callie holding her breath, knowing they had to still go down the valley a half mile or so before catching the trail to the higher elevation, where they’d be safe from a flood.

Halfway to the rocks, a series of lightning strikes hit close and the world went bright white. The rain turned to buckets of water, and within seconds, they were all drenched. This was more rain than even she’d counted on. In fact, it was more than she’d seen come down in years. They’d had a dry spring until now, and the parched, cracked earth couldn’t absorb it fast enough.

The flood she worried about became an all too real possibility, and they still were in the narrow valley between nothing but sharp, rocky cliffs. She had to yell to be heard. “We’re sitting ducks in this dry riverbed!” Which was already beginning to fill. “We make a run for the trail to the top, then head back, taking the high route this time. It’ll take longer, but we’ll be safer.”

The guys started to moan and groan but Jake moved forward on his horse, until he was at Callie’s side. “She said we go back. We go back.”

“Fine!” Smithy yelled. “Just as soon as I get my picture.” He pointed to the rocks still to their north, barely visible now in the driving rain. Without waiting for anyone else, he kicked Tongue, who leapt into a canter.

“Goddammit.” Callie turned her horse around. Shielding her eyes so she could see through the pouring rain, she sought out Eddie, Tucker, and Jake. “Take the guys and head to the trail. I’ll go after Smithy. We’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m coming with you,” Jake said grimly.

“It’s going to flash flood,” she said urgently. “Just get the guys back—”

“Eddie and I can take these guys back.” Tucker nodded to the suddenly humble group of guys, all looking wet, bedraggled, and extremely young. “Capturing Smithy might take both of you.” He exchanged a long look with Jake, who nodded.
“Go!”

Callie nodded curtly and urged Sierra ahead into a gallop, knowing Eddie and Tucker would get the guys up the canyon walls, then head back to the ranch. Jake was right at her side as they rode after Smithy. They could just see him up ahead. There, at the next bolt of thunder, Tongue reared up.

Callie gasped, fear becoming one big ball in her belly, but Smithy managed to hang on to the now terrified horse and keep going.
“Smithy!”
she yelled, her voice lost in the drumming rain. Seconds later, she lost sight of him entirely. “Jake! Do you see him?”

“We’re catching up to him.”

Jake wasn’t wearing a hat, so she had no idea how he could see anything. His hair was plastered to his head and water streamed down his face. But believing in him, she kept riding in the same direction.

Sierra jerked at the next crack of thunder, and the immediate flash of lightning, but stayed in control. Thankfully Molly did the same for Jake. Callie had seen some spring storms before but never one as fast and violent as this one. She hoped to God no one got struck by lightning, and even as she hoped it, the sky lit up again, a series of bolts that seemed to go on forever. She thought she saw Smithy and Tongue again, only several hundred feet away now. He’d nearly made it to the other side of the valley floor, where he’d be safe enough if he held still. She nearly sagged in relief but then it backed up in her throat.

Because from the dry riverbed, the path they’d just ridden the past few hours, came a huge, thundering roar, and Callie knew what that meant. Water, tons of it, falling from the sky, from the sharp precipices, onto the dry riverbed, rushing at them.

And when it hit, they’d be carried downriver with it.

D
on’t look!” Jake yelled at her as the wall of water rushed at them. “Just keep going straight across, not toward Smithy!
Hurry,
Callie!”

“But Smithy—”

“Go, goddammit!”

The rain blinded her, and the ground rumbled, not from the thunder now, but the rushing, tumbling flash flood coming their way.

Ahead of her Smithy stopped Tongue and turned around, squinting into the pouring rain. Seeing her, he waved.

“No!” she shouted. “Keep going, keep going!” She waved at him, tried to warn him to get completely across the riverbed.

He craned his neck, saw the rushing flood. He opened his mouth in surprise, and then leapt off his horse.

“No!” Jake yelled just as Tongue, freed now, took off, instinctively galloping north toward the rocks on the far side.

Jake slid down off his horse, too, and thrust the reins up to Callie. “Go to Tongue. Go!” Then he started running toward Smithy.

Callie gripped both horses’ reins and urged them to move. She kept glancing back, but the rain blocked her vision. When she reached the rocks safely, she jumped off Sierra, grabbed Tongue’s reins as well, and whipped around, just as the riverbed flooded. Suddenly there was three or four feet of dirty, tumbling river running past her.

“Jake!” Callie searched madly for a sign of him, but saw nothing. She stumbled to the edge of the flowing water. A crack of thunder rocked her back a step.

And then, in the next flash of lightning, she saw them, Jake staggering through the chest-deep water toward her, dragging Smithy along with him. Whirling around, she ran to a tree and tied up the frightened horses, then raced back to the water’s edge. This time she plunged in, sucking in a breath as the cold water hit her like a punch in the chest.

The current nearly dragged her off.

“No. Callie, no!” Jake jerked his head toward shore. “Go back!”

Doing that, waiting, watching him struggle to fight the current and hold on to a flailing Smithy nearly killed her, but the last thing Jake needed was to have to rescue her, too. So she stood her ground for what seemed like an eternity before he got close enough that she could plunge in and help. She grabbed Smithy’s other side, and together the three of them stumbled out of the water, plopping down to the muddy ground.

The rain still came down, and Callie shoved her hair out of her eyes to see. Then she did the same for Smithy, looking down into his face. “What’s hurt?”

“Nothing. Just…can’t…swim,” gasped Smithy.

Jake had dropped to his knees, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. “Then you should stay the hell away from water. Jesus, you weigh a ton.”

“Yeah.” Smithy sat up, looking shaken. “Sorry about that.”

Callie couldn’t believe it. “You put us all in danger with that stupid stunt.” She sagged back on her heels and stared at him. “I don’t even have words for you.” She crawled over to Jake and put her hands on his arms, blinking through the rain to see his face, which, as she’d imagined, was full of pain. “Oh, Jake. Tell me what to do.”

He shook his head. She’d have sworn he was sweating, though the air was cold, the water even colder, and they were all soaked to the bone. “Can you ride?”

“Yeah.” He staggered to his feet with her help while Smithy just sat on the ground still looking stunned. “Help me,” she hissed at him.

But once Jake was on his feet, he shrugged them both off. “I’m fine.” He strode to the horses, and with a scathing look at Smithy, Callie followed him. Tongue was terrified, and it took her a moment to calm him down enough so Smithy could mount.

Callie had a wool blanket in her backpack, which she got out. Jake mounted his horse before she could help him and then refused the blanket. Stupid male pride, she thought. Smithy apparently had no pride and quickly wrapped himself in the blanket without asking if there was another one for her.

Disgusted, she mounted Sierra. All the horses were snorting and puffing, and stomping uneasily. She didn’t blame them. She took one good long look at Jake through the curtain of rain but his face was a mask of stone. Good enough, she thought. She turned to look at Smithy, who looked miserable, huddling in his blanket as the rain pelted him.
Not good enough.

“Careful,” Jake said to him. “It’s going to be slippery going.”

“And rocky,” she added. “You’ll stay in the middle and do as you’re told.”

“Yes,” Smithy said meekly. “Uh, you don’t by any chance have a beer—Or not,” he muttered when she glared at him.

They rode back with the wind and slashing, freezing rain beating them up. Halfway there, darkness fell, an utterly complete blackness relieved only by the rapid flashes of lightning that seemed to be right over the top of them. Though she could ride back blind-folded, and so could the horses, Callie pulled out her flashlight so she could keep checking on Jake and Smithy.

“I’m fine,” Jake told her every time she blinded him with the light, and she figured he wouldn’t sound so irritated if he wasn’t fine, so that eased her worry a bit.

“I guess the guys are all warm and dry by the fireplace,” Smithy muttered at one point.

“No doubt,” she said. “Probably eating a hot meal, too.”

He looked so sad at this news, she almost felt sorry for him, until she once again glanced at Jake. No matter what he said, his jaw was tight with pain, his body tense. Smithy’s stupidity had cost him the most. He could have dislocated his shoulder, or been swept downstream.…People died out here every year being as stupid as Smithy had been today.

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her realize she’d spoken aloud, and this time, she could tell he meant it.

When they got out of the canyons, they no longer had to ride so closely together. Jake nudged his way close to Callie, letting Smithy get a little ahead. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. You holding up?”

“I’m good.”

She studied his face but it was dark, and he was giving nothing away. “Close call, huh?”

He let out an agreeing grunt that said she didn’t know the half of it.

“You saved him, Jake.” She voiced the fear she’d been dwelling on. “What if you weren’t used to such heroics, or if you couldn’t swim? Or if you hadn’t been so quick? I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”

He reached out and touched her wet face. “You could have. You would have.”

She stared through the dark at him. Today had created a bond she hadn’t counted on, and deepened the one they had, whether she liked it or not. “You’re really not hurting?”

“Actually, yeah. I am.”

Her heart stopped. “Want to stop so I can massage it?”

His teeth flashed. “Wouldn’t you like to know where I’m hurting first?”

That should have pissed her off. Instead, she laughed. “You know what? Maybe I don’t.”

Again the flashing teeth, and then he shifted in his saddle. “Christ, how do you do this day in and day out? My parts are so chafed they’re going to fall right off.”

Unbelievably, she laughed again, and when Smithy shot her a hurt look, apparently thinking she was laughing at him, she only laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” she gasped.

“Stress,” Jake said to Smithy, who nodded seriously.

Callie just shook her head, the laughter having relieved much of it. Jake’s presence did that, too, she realized. Finally, they came out of the hills, crossed the plain, and saw the lights of the ranch wavering through the night. The three of them stopped side by side to look at it together. “I’ve never seen a more welcome sight,” she said.

Jake didn’t say anything, and she remembered—it wasn’t a welcome sight to him, and what had happened today had in all likelihood just cemented that for him.

Eddie and Tucker were waiting for them in the barn and took care of their gear and horses. Stone escorted the exhausted Smithy inside and saw to it that he got a hot shower and food.

“You, too,” Tucker told Jake and Callie. “We’ll finish up in here. Go.” He gestured with his chin to the open barn door. The light spilled out into the night, highlighting the glittery silver curtain of rain that still came down.

Jake didn’t argue. He took Callie to her cabin. She opened her door, then put her hand on his chest. For a moment his heart leapt, thinking she would invite him in to take care of him—not that he needed it, but a little fawning would cheer him up considerably. She blocked his way, however. “Go get warm,” she said, then shut her door.

He stood staring at it for a moment, then sighed.

In his cabin, he took a long, hot shower, letting the steaming water beat off his various aches and bruises. Damn, working the land and playing host to a variety of new people, some smart, some not, week in and week out was infinitely more exhausting then he could have possibly imagined.

He wasn’t sure when it had sunk in—possibly when Smithy had nearly drowned them both—but this ranch was more demanding than any job he’d ever had. In fact, this was more than a job, it was a way of life.

He’d have sworn he had the most demanding, unpredictable, difficult job he could think of, but a month out here, and he had to admit he’d been wrong.

He’d always assumed if he ended up here because he couldn’t work, that would make him a loser, but the only thing that made him a true loser had been assuming that the ranch’s way of life was somehow less than his.

The hot water finally dispelled his bone-deep chill and he got out of the shower. He took a good long look at the narrow, hard cot waiting for him as he pulled on warm, dry clothes. Outside the storm raged. He figured only an idiot would go back out. He stepped into the pouring rain anyway and went to Callie’s cabin. He could tell himself she’d been pale and shivering, and he wanted to see that she’d gotten warm and dry, but that was bullshit. He didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t answer his knock, and when he opened her door, no one was there. “Damn it, Callie.” He headed toward the big house, getting wet and cold—again—crossing the grass because it was faster. Through the rain, Goose came running at him, honking her alarm and annoyance, but he just bared his teeth.

She stopped so short she nearly tipped onto her back, then gave a confused little flutter of her wings, having apparently no experience with being challenged.

He walked right past her and let himself in the big house. The college guys were all in the huge living room, in front of the fireplace, eating and drinking as if they didn’t have a care. Smithy sat in the middle of them all, completely dry and recovered. He waved.

Jake would have liked to wring his neck, but he refrained and headed down the hallway, making Amy squeak in surprise when he barged into the kitchen. She stood at the stove stirring something with a delicious scent wafting from it that made his mouth water.

Tucker sat on the counter across from Amy, eating out of a bowl. “Hey.”

“Hey. Have you seen Callie?”

Amy shook her head.

Tucker looked him over. “You okay?”

Clearly Jake was more tired than he’d thought because that had sounded like real concern in his brother’s voice. “I’m fine. Where do you think Callie is?”

“Hopefully in her cabin asleep,” Tucker said, and Jake nodded, not wanting to set off an alarm, because he intended to find her and put her in bed himself.

He looked in the weight room, thinking maybe Macy had come to give her a massage, but Macy was working on one of the college guys. Jake left, wondering where the hell Callie had gone, when he saw the light coming from beneath her office door. He opened it without knocking, took one look at her sitting behind her desk, and shook his head. “You are shitting me.”

“I’m just—”

“I don’t care what you’re just.” He came around her desk, pulled her to her feet. She’d lost her hat. Her long, red hair had partially dried in loose curls down past her shoulders. She’d taken off her wet sweatshirt and shoes, but was still in her jeans and blouse, which clung to her in a way he might have enjoyed, if he hadn’t been so pissed. “So you took care of everyone but yourself?”

“I was just checking the petty cash, which I’d locked in a different drawer this time.”

“Let’s go.” He tugged on her hand.

“Don’t you care if it’s all there?”

“I’ll care tomorrow. Tonight, it’s you. You’re wet, tired, and still shaking, damn it.” He felt the tremor in her chilled limbs. Shrugging out of his jacket, he put it around her, waited until she shoved her feet back into her boots and led her out of the office and out of the big house.

It was still raining, coming down in long shiny rivers, as if Mother Nature was making up for lost time. And the noise. It was unbelievable how loud the slapping of the water on the parched earth sounded. He figured he’d seen enough rain today to last him a lifetime. “I’m going to kill Goose if she—Damn it.”

Once again Goose came running through the rain honking at them.

“Go night-night, Goose,” Callie said, and unbelievably, the goose walked away.

Jake gaped at her, rain running into his eyes. “How do you do that?”

“I don’t threaten to eat her for Thanksgiving.” She kept moving, her boots striking the puddles on the rain-soaked ground.

“I think of her as my father’s spirit. Yelling at me.”

“Ever think maybe she’s just squawking at you, wondering what took you so long to get here?”

He stared at Goose’s butt waddling away. “No,” he muttered. “I don’t.”
But now he would.

When they got to her cabin, she opened the door, and would have walked in alone if he hadn’t kept his hand on her arm.

“I can take it from here,” she said through her chattering teeth and blue lips.

“Uh-huh.” He shut the door behind the both of them, then slipped his arms around her and drew her into him. “Humor me,” he whispered.

“I don’t need help.”

“We’ve already established that. This is for me, not you.”

She shivered again, but put her hands over his, stopping him from removing her blouse.

“I want you to take a hot shower and warm up.” He tunneled his fingers through her hair, clamping her face very gently between his palms. “Go.” When she didn’t move, he shifted closer. “You know what? Never mind. I’m here now, I’ll just warm you up myself.”