Falling for the Rancher Page 17

  “Sierra.” He backed away. “Someone might see.”

  Who, the horses? She resisted the urge to snap the question at him. She supposed it was possible that, in the event of a minor emergency, someone would come looking for the ranch owner. Regardless, Sierra had her pride—somewhat bruised for the rejection but still intact. She wasn’t going to throw herself at an uninterested man.

  But since when was Jarrett uninterested?

  “Sorry,” he said, his smile gentle. “But it would be really bad if Vicki heard about us from someone.”

  Then maybe we should tell her ourselves. But Vicki wasn’t her sister, so she was deferring to his feelings on the matter. “Understood. I should go find her, anyway. Wish me luck persuading her she’s had enough excitement for one day. See you back in the house?”

  He nodded absently, but it was hours later before she heard him come up the stairs in the house. Pipes creaked, and she listened to the water run as he showered. If the situation were different, maybe she would have surprised him by joining him. After his strange mood in the stable, though, she was leaving it to him to make the next move.

  Only, he didn’t.

  Once his shower was over, she held her breath, waiting to see if he appeared in her doorway as he had on previous nights. Instead, he padded to his room and closed the door, leaving her alone and perplexed and wondering what had gone wrong.

  * * *

  ON SUNDAY, IT took hours to deconstruct booths and haul away trash from the festival. Once it was all finished and Jarrett had again accepted the committee’s thanks for use of the ranch, he locked himself away in the study on the pretext of having work to do. You do have work you should be doing. You just aren’t accomplishing any of it.

  His biggest accomplishment today was driving himself crazy by staying away from Sierra. How long did he think he could successfully avoid her?

  Too restless to sit, he paced behind the desk. Even now, he wanted to go to her, tell her how much he’d missed her for the past two nights. But every time he thought of Larry Breelan’s lewd expression, the knowing chuckle in the man’s voice when he’d basically congratulated Jarrett on scoring with her...

  So he stayed in the office, knowing he would crack eventually and need to touch her again, yet postponing the inescapable moment of weakness. When his phone rang, he answered it gratefully, thrilled to have a legitimate distraction.

  “Hello?”

  “Jarrett! How are you?” his mother asked. The happiness in her voice made her sound like almost a different person than the one who’d stood in this very room and told him she and Gavin needed time away. The trip to Tahoe had done her a lot of good.

  “I’m...” Conflicted. Miserable. Weak-willed. “...great. We got everything all cleaned up from the festival today, restoring order to the ranch. So, no worries, the Twisted R you come home to will be in the same condition as when you left.” The ranch might be the same, but he felt irrevocably changed by the past few weeks.

  “Oh. Good.” His mother’s voice took on a dull note whenever the ranch came up.

  He sighed. “You really aren’t looking forward to being back here, are you?”

  “It’s not that. Exactly. The Twisted R is my home, but— Of course I can’t wait to see you and your sister again. She texted me a picture earlier today of her standing! That Sierra you hired must be a godsend. I’m sorry she’ll be leaving so shortly after our return. I’d like to get to know her better, thank her properly for her help.”

  “Yeah, well.” His throat burned, and he had trouble getting the words out. “She’ll be moving on to other folks who need her.” Her interview in Fort Worth was scheduled for Tuesday. She was driving up that morning and wouldn’t be back until sometime on Wednesday. He felt confident that the people at the clinic would offer her the job. They’d be fools not to.

  Just like you’re a fool for letting her go. He scowled. What choice did he have? She’d never really been his to hold on to in the first place.

  * * *

  WHEN SIERRA CAME into the kitchen on Monday to fix lunch, there was a napkin sitting on the table. The words Go riding with me? had been written across it in bright marker. A gesture from Jarrett? Had she misinterpreted his aloof demeanor over the past two days?

  Maybe being drained from all the festival-related activities had just left him cranky. Or maybe it was all the extra pairs of eyes on the ranch this weekend that had prompted him to keep his distance. She supposed she understood, but it stung, feeling like his sordid secret, unfit for acknowledging during daylight hours.

  “Thought I heard you in here,” he said from behind her as she filled a pot with water for boiling pasta. “Did you get my invitation?”

  She glanced toward the napkin on the counter, her mouth lifting in a half smile. “On the traditional Jarrett Ross stationery.”

  “I should really shop for matching envelopes.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe I could origami one out of a paper towel.”

  She laughed, feeling some of the strain that had plagued her since Saturday finally ease.

  “So. Can you go riding with me this afternoon, or do you and Vicki have plans?”

  “Just the opposite. I’m trying to get her to take it easy after an eventful weekend. She’s doesn’t appreciate my caution, though.”

  The girl seemed mad at her. She hadn’t said much during the dinner they’d eaten in Jarrett’s absence last night, but every once in a while, Sierra would catch Vicki looking at her with a displeased expression on her face. Because she thinks I’m slowing down her progress? Or was it something else?

  Sierra sighed. “I guess I should remind her about her promise to be a model patient if I braved riding a horse.” That gave her an idea of how to get back into the girl’s good graces. She made a mental note to ask Manuel at Vicki’s appointment Thursday about getting Vicki back into the saddle. Maybe that was something Sierra could help her accomplish before—

  “You okay?” Jarrett asked. “I didn’t realize she was giving you that much trouble.”

  “Oh, I can handle Vicki. I was just thinking how few days I have left here.”

  “Yeah.” He looked away, his expression despondent.

  Perhaps that explained his recent detachment. Was he just trying to prepare himself for their goodbye? It was nice to think he was so affected by the idea of her leaving, proving that he cared.

  “I’d love to go riding with you,” she said impulsively.

  During lunch, she told Vicki about their plans and promised she’d ask Manuel this week what needed to be done for Vicki to ride again. The announcement didn’t elicit quite the celebration she’d hoped for, but at least her patient wasn’t actively glaring at her. After they ate, Vicki put in a DVD. Sierra promised she’d be back by the time the movie was over and that they’d work more on taking actual steps with the crutches. The new goal was for Vicki to walk up to her parents when they returned next week. It would be a lovely homecoming gift.

  Down at the stables, Sierra helped with tacking up the horses, although Jarrett double-checked her work to make sure everything was secure.

  “Nice job,” he praised her. “If we had more time, I bet I could turn you into a first-rate horsewoman.”

  If we had more time... A pang went through her at all the ways that sentence could end. Not having more practice saddling horses wouldn’t be what she regretted most when she left.

  “We’ll be going a bit off the usual trail today,” he warned as they led the horses out of the stable. “I have something I want to show you.”

  Twenty minutes later, they passed through a copse of peach trees, where she mocked his constantly having to duck branches—“Finally, a bonus to being this short!”—and emerged in a small clearing. The house that sat in front of them was too oblong to be rightly called a cottage, but there was som
ething charming about it nonetheless. Two untrimmed rosebushes flanked the front door, the flowers growing in fragrant profusion.

  “What’s this?” she asked as they dismounted.

  Jarrett secured the horses to a hitching post. “The bunkhouse.” He held the door open for her.

  It was a little musty inside, the sunlight through the window illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. The back wall was all stonework, full of rustic charm, but that was about all she could say for the decor. There was little furniture and even less style. A folding card table sat in the kitchen with two sturdy but mismatched chairs.

  “Tell me the truth—you only brought me here so we could fool around with no chance of Vicki catching on.” It was supposed to have been a teasing comment, but there was an aggressive undertone to her words.

  He blinked, obviously hearing it, too. “We agreed it was best if she didn’t know about us.”

  More like, you agreed. “Maybe we should revisit that. I think she’s suspicious that something’s going on.”

  “She’d be suspicious anyway.” Shoving a hand through his hair, he turned to gaze out a grimy window. “Even when I first hired you, she thought I had ulterior motives. Not only would telling her be hurtful timing, it would lower her opinion of me even more.”

  The recrimination in his tone reminded her of the night he’d told her about Vicki’s accident, and she tried to lighten the mood. “Being drawn to me isn’t a character flaw—it’s just good taste.”

  He didn’t respond, and she rested her cheek against his back. She still thought they should tell Vicki, but Sierra wasn’t the one who would have to deal with any fallout from the conversation if it was the wrong decision.

  He turned, wrapping her in his arms. Despite the momentary tension between them, it felt so good for him to be holding her again. “The real reason I brought you here was so you could see my future home. Obviously, it needs lots of TLC.”

  “But it has great potential,” she said. All it took was some imagination to see what could be created. She admired his willingness to make the effort. Anyone in her family would probably take one look around and declare the place unfit for habitation. But a house didn’t need thousand-dollar artwork and a three-car garage to be an inviting home.

  “I want to completely remodel the bathroom,” he told her, drawing her to the other end of the house for a quick tour. “I’m thinking whirlpool tub. The bedroom just needs some minor floor repair where the hardwood’s warped and, obviously, furniture.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Maybe I’ll ask my parents if I can take the king bed from the guest room. It’s really too big for that room anyway, and I’ve developed a real fondness for that bed.”

  Desire rippled through her as she recalled the many delicious things he’d done to her there.

  She couldn’t imagine that the brick fireplace in the living room would be used often in the Texas heat, yet the image of snuggling in this high-ceilinged room in front of the flames was undeniably cozy. Her eyes prickled with sudden tears she refused to shed. She was touched that Jarrett had wanted to show her the future he was mapping out, yet knowing she wouldn’t be part of that future hurt more than it should.

  “...and a huge flat-screen TV,” he was saying. “Seriously, huge. I mean, this is Texas, right? Go big or go home. And in here,” he added, as they reached the kitchen, “I was thinking... Honestly, I have no idea. Most of my culinary skills center around coffeemakers and grills.”

  She laughed. “Well, coffee is the most important meal of the day.”

  He brushed his index finger over her lips. “I’ve missed your smile.” A wave of anticipation went through her as he bent closer, cupping her face. “And I’ve missed doing this.”

  His mouth met hers in a kiss that started out as sweet reunion but ignited into something more arousing. Deepening their kiss, he dropped his hands to her butt and pulled her against him.

  She unbuttoned the top of his shirt, kissing the exposed column of his throat. “I want you so much.”

  He walked them backward until he hit a chair, and she straddled his lap, their kisses frenzied. She had to get back to the house soon, and they didn’t waste any time. Buttons and zippers were dealt with impatiently, and she almost laughed in wry frustration. It was a lot easier to remove pajamas than jeans and boots. But, between them, they managed. Jarrett was wearing only a condom when he tugged her forward, her unbuttoned shirt hanging loose at her sides. She slowly lowered herself over him, her breath hitching as he cupped her breasts, rubbing the tight peaks. She tightened her inner muscles around him, and he groaned her name.

  It occurred to her that they didn’t have to worry about being quiet, and when her climax rolled through her, she threw back her head with a cry of joy.

  Afterward, she rested her head on his shoulder, her smile bittersweet. She’d finally got her wish—no longer only a guilty pleasure he saved for the wee hours of the night but his lover in the full light of day. She wished she could stay here, spend an idyllic afternoon in his arms, but she had to go. They were out of time.

  * * *

  ALL THROUGH SIERRA’S interview on Tuesday, she mentally chided herself for being too subdued. They’ll think you aren’t excited about the opportunity. But her worries turned out to be unfounded. Perhaps having a quieter demeanor was the key to seeming like a reserved professional, because by the time the clinic closed for the day, they’d offered her the job.

  I should be happy about this, she told herself as she reached out to shake hands with the woman who’d led the interview. Fort Worth wasn’t far from Dallas, which would make relocating easier. The pay was competitive for her field, and the people seemed nice enough—although, only time would tell whether they liked outspoken, headstrong Sierra once they got to know her. The Sierra in today’s interview had been a well-behaved doppelgänger.

  “Are you headed to a hotel?” the HR manager asked. “We’d be happy to take you to dinner and answer any other questions you might have.”

  “Thank you, but if you don’t mind, I’ll take a rain check,” Sierra said. “I have a lot to mull over.”

  “Of course.” The manager nodded approvingly. “You have a big decision to make.”

  After grabbing a salad from an upscale deli, Sierra checked into a hotel room, ostensibly to think about her career. So why was she staring at the generic hotel wall art of a cowboy silhouetted on a horse and thinking only of the cowboy back in Cupid’s Bow? She pulled out her phone and texted him that the job was hers if she wanted it, and they’d love for her to start next week.

  Ten minutes later, she received the single-word response: Congratulations.

  She checked the phone twice more to see if he’d added anything else, but, really, what was there to say? They’d both known from day one that she was looking for a new place to land, and now she’d found it. Congratulations, indeed.

  A month ago, being by herself for the night would have seemed perfectly normal, but now loneliness gripped her. Because it’s too quiet in here. She turned on the television, flipping past news and sports and stopping just long enough on a fashion reality show to watch the judges determine the week’s winner. After that, she got bored and reached for her phone.

  She could always call Jarrett. He might have more to say during an actual conversation than in a text. But she couldn’t bring herself to dial his number. It felt too needy. If she couldn’t survive one night without him, what was she going to do about the coming nights and weeks and months? That thought made her stomach churn, and she scrolled through her contact list in sudden desperation.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom.” Sierra hoped the warble in her voice wasn’t so pronounced through their connection.

  “Sierra! How wonderful to hear from you, darling. I don’t have long—your father and I are headed for a benefit tonight
—but tell me everything. How’s the job search?”

  “I got an offer in Fort Worth today.” She proceeded to tell her mom all about the clinic and the neighborhood it was in. Sierra planned to drive around a little bit and check into living arrangements before she returned to Cupid’s Bow tomorrow. If she took this job, the clinic wanted her to start soon, so finding a place was top priority.

  After chatting about that for a bit, conversation turned to her brother’s wedding plans. Muriel was still obsessing over every detail. “Apparently, Kyle and Annabel didn’t discuss much of this before he proposed, so there’s a lot to hash out. But it’s good that they’re learning to argue respectfully and resolve differences. It takes compromise to make a marriage work. I know you probably think compromising is a sign of weakness—”

  “No, I don’t. I could make some compromises, for the right person.” But how did you know when you’d found the right person—the one who would be worth the effort? I love Jarrett. She’d suspected it for days but had known it in her heart after he’d made love to her yesterday and she’d spent her entire walk back to the house trying not to cry.

  She loved him, but she was uncertain what his feelings were. He’d admitted that, in the past, he’d had very shallow relationships. Was it arrogant to think that she was different, that she was special to him?

  As she ended the call with her mother, Sierra knew that, if Jarrett asked, she would be willing to make some compromises in order to keep seeing him. But, so far, he hadn’t cared enough to ask.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Passing the sign that said Welcome to Cupid’s Bow gave Sierra an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Had it been only a few weeks ago that she’d packed up her car and driven into this town with a sense of foreboding? She’d wondered if she could survive the isolation of the Twisted R for so long, but the time had flown.

  Speaking of time. Battling back the emotion that had kept trying to well up, she glanced at her clock. She’d told Jarrett she wasn’t sure when she’d be back. Given the approaching dinner hour, maybe she should call and see whether he was already cooking something or if he wanted her to pick up some food in town.