“Frank. Has some news, I think,” Jake said. “I’ll call him when we’re back at the stable.”
“So we need to get back, then?” she replied.
“Yeah. Should maybe have the guys in on the call if it’s good news.”
He sobered at that, and so did Liz. She clucked at her horse and started back. There was the rub; they were both now thinking. If it was a way out of this mess, then it meant he might be able to go home.
Which was no longer an easy decision.
The past week had been some of the best days of his life, and as they started back down the trail between two fields, he sank back into the saddle and looked around him at the open field, the swaying pine trees, and the dotted shadows of clouds as they floated east.
The biggest change was with Tanner. Jake had finally connected with his brother, the resentment easing now that they’d figured one another out. Tanner was still on edge, but it was a good start toward them becoming friends. Jake had even bought and strung up a punching bag in an unused corner of the cattle barn and was showing Tanner how to actually throw a punch.
Tanner had invited him to the local auction out of the blue two days before, introducing him to some of the other ranchers in the area, including him without reservation when they’d sat in the stands beside Harry and watched the lots go through. Tanner had patiently explained to Jake what they looked for, what was necessary to put cattle through a sale. Jake only caught about half of it, taking in the noise of the mooing cattle, the shouting from the spotters when a bid was raised, the auctioneer droning on in a nasal, rapid singsong that he couldn’t even begin to understand.Harry had explained more of it when Tanner had left to see to the lot they’d put through.
He’d understood even less of it after that.
And just last night, Tanner had been laughing his head off when Liz had sassed back at Jake about something.Tanner. Laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach.
Jake didn’t think it was possible.
Tanner was slowly coming out of the fog he’d wrapped around himself when his father had died, and it was easing everyone’s minds and stress levels. No more walking on eggshells, even if he was still a temperamental grumpy ass more often than not.
The relief of his relationship with his brother meant he had dived headfirst into learning, and he was googling and reading, often falling asleep on Liz’s couch, laptop open to articles about something ranch related, like cattle feed requirements or birthweight ratios.
All the fresh air, the space, the quiet, was becoming more and more normal. Life was simpler here, easier, more about what truly mattered. It was getting harder to remember the noise of the city, the horns and people everywhere you turned. The stink of overflowing dumpsters in back alleys emanating onto the streets; the rude, loud, harried strangers brushing past you without a care.
Country life was growing on him.
He hadn’t missed the late nights and stress of a dinner rush either. Gordon was enjoying his new job in Manhattan, and his other former staffers were all working again. The urge to hustle and put a team together wasn’t there as he got up in the mornings and made coffee while the sun came up and the rest of the ranch woke up around him. The need to stay relevant and in the know wasn’t pressing on him as he picked fresh vegetables from the garden for that night’s meal.
Running a restaurant for strangers was less appealing every day the crew thanked him for the food when he delivered it to the main barns and dug in like they were starving. Here, he was feeding people who mattered and truly appreciated simplicity. He certainly wasn’t flourishing perfectly plated meals out to critics, but the validation he got from one of the men closing their eyes and sighing as they bit into a from-scratch panini? That resonated in him much more than any starred review ever would.
Who he was had changed.
He looked over at Liz, who was quiet and serious, her smile gone.Damn it. He wished Frank hadn’t called at all.
She was the other side of the equation.
Time with her had solidified how he felt, which meant this news could be . . . Well, he didn’t want to think about that right now and ruin the afternoon they had just spent. One where he’d laid her down in some long grass on a blanket and made slow love, the cicadas singing in their ears, the sun hot on their skin, abandoning restraint in the novelty of sex outside, where they were completely alone.
The scent of her was still on him, and he adjusted himself in the saddle as he thought about how erotic it was to have her laid back and spread before him, his head buried between her legs. He had nearly lost himself when she had threaded her fingers into his hair and screamed, the birds in the tree taking off squawking, indignant at the noise disturbing their peace.
He urged Sandy up beside her. “Hey, we’ll cross that bridge, right?” he said to get her attention.
“Right. Let’s shake a leg, then,” she replied, and clucked to her horse, picking up a lope, avoiding the elephant in the room, which had now joined them. He did the same, and they headed off, the stables just in view across the pasture.
* * *
They were all in the dining room, Jake’s phone on speaker as he dialed Frank.
“Frank here. Jake, back on the ground?”
“Sure am. Got Tanner and Brady, Liz and Peony in here with me. What’s your news?”
Brady was sipping a steaming cup of tea, Peony sitting across from him, her hands wrapped around hers. She was watching Liz, who was chewing her fingernails and pacing.
Tanner was leaning on a wall, arms crossed as usual, not wanting to sit when there was serious business to deal with.
