The one time she had gone horseback riding with him, she’d ended up on his horse—which led to their first kiss and her sanity vanished like water in a drought. Back then, she’d been scared and giggly. Now? Not so much. “How nice of you to be so … accommodating,” Lola injected energy in her voice and shot him the fakest grin she could produce.
“This is going to be easier than I imagined.” Jack’s gaze searched and held hers. A hint of a mocking smile formed, but died before it could take shape. Just like our marriage.
She raised an eyebrow, accepting the challenge. “You have noidea.”
Earl grabbed the reins and showed Lola her horse. She threaded her trembling fingers through the animal’s sleek mane, hoping to extract some courage fromit.
“Please, honey, don’t let me fall,” she whispered and half-hoped the animal would nod at her or give her any sign she’d help her. Backing down wasn’t an option. Jack had already seen her botch the eggs, and if he was being a jerk and making her ride horseback when he knew she dreaded it, well … she owed it to herself to try and internally exercise the emotional strength she’d been faking.
“It’s been a while. Could you please help me get on?” she asked Earl, her voice above a whisper so Jack wouldn’t hearher.
“Don’t worry ma’am,” Earl responded, with an earnest smile. “I’m here to help. Here, mount from the left. It’s easier. I’ll hold the straps foryou.”
She slid one bootie inside the stirrup, tried to balance her weight, and swept the other leg over. Earl handed her the reins. Both her palms were already slicked with cold sweat. Right now, fear fell out of reach, like her extinct American Express. If Jack thought he’d humiliate her in front of the foreman, well, she had news forhim.
Jack tilted his head to the side. “Can you dothis?”
She gaped at the wide-open spaces before them, a blend of green trees and bushes, and brown hay. The cows grazed without a care in the world. The sky, cloudless—the sign she needed. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I can dothis.”
Jack glanced at her profile.An hour in, and Lola wasn’t cracking. Notyet.
She shifted every so often on the saddle. The redness on her shoulders and arms stretched down her legs, sweat glistened on her bare skin. He’d suppressed a laugh when she’d appeared on the top of the stairs, dressed like the cover of Rolling Stones magazine.
He clasped his fingers on the reins. Lola had to know what she was getting into. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by letting others control his business. And he wouldn’t let her ruin the place where he’d grown up. The place brought memories of his beloved father, and Jack’s promise to his father—and to himself—to become a successful Canyon.
The first horse he’d ridden had been on this very ranch. His father had sighed his last breath in the cottage they’d occupied. Now he had enough money to live anywhere he chose, but this ranch—these mountains and the wild countryside—would always be home tohim.
And it had never been home to Lola. Not really. If he showed her how hard it was to maintain the property, she’d run for the hills and he’d get the divorce and buy her share. He’d merge the two surrounding properties. Easy.
“And last, we’ll show you the stables,” Earl said. His cell phone buzzed, and he scooped it from his pocket and read the screen. “Boss, do you mind going ahead? The new hand arrived early.”
“No.” Jack nodded. How many times had he asked him not to call him boss? The old man was as stubborn as he was ranch savvy. After Earl left, he and Lola rode side by side. Besides the occasional snorting from the horses and the sturdy trotting on the ground, silence expanded betweenthem.
He tried to keep facing forward, but temptation snapped at him like a whip. He caught himself wavering, turning his head for some side-eyeing. Her hands still clasped the reins, and her white knuckles didn’t match the semi-confidence displayed on her face. The whole time she’d avoided looking his way and only did so when either he talked to her directly or Earl pointed out something in his direction. “Where’s your mother?”
She squared her shoulders. “Margo’s cruising through the Caribbean.”
Why wasn’t he surprised? If Lola ran from her obligations, her mother had been to blame—at least for some of it. Margo St. James worried too much about herself and her needs to consider anyone else’s. And Lola had followed suit. “Alone?” he asked for the sake of asking.
“With some guy named Roy.” Her voice faltered, and he couldn’t miss a trace of sadness. His heart squeezed, and that made him feel more guilty than letting her burn her soft skin under the unforgiving sun. “I’m guessing this isit.”
He blinked and recognized the open front door to the stables. Thoroughbreds occupied every other oversize pen. “Sure is,” he said, then got off his horse, patted the animal, and walked over to Lola. After quick consideration, he outstretched his hand to help her down, and a zing of electricity shot through his fingers and continued up his arm. She jerked hers away from his touch, then with a quick motion she folded her arms together.
“Jack.” He recognized Mel’s soft voice, and a sour liquid spread in his stomach. Shit. “I thought you were at your office in Houston for theweek.”
He turned to face Mel, and she walked toward them. True. He was supposed to be in Houston nailing down business deals, running his properties, meeting people. But not anymore—not with Lola threatening to turn the ranch into a real-life version of Barbie’s damn country pink hotel.
“Turns out I could settle things over emails.” He cleared his throat and gave her a closed-lip smile.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lola.” Lola stepped toward Mel. Within a couple of seconds, they shook hands. Lola’s impractical clothes and raised chin contrasted against Mel’s no-nonsense jeans, shirt, and long blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail.
“I’m Mel, the on-call vet.” Mel’s smile didn’t reach her green eyes. “Did I hear you’re Lola? Jack’sex?”
Wishful thinking. Jack stretched to his full height. He’d trusted Mel and shared with her more about Lola than he had shared with anyone. Because they had gotten married in California and lived there, their short marriage had been largely downplayed in Hope Springs—which he now appreciated. “Lola’s here to get some things sorted. I’m just showing her around.” He drummed his finger on his belt. Apprehension lurked like a ghost.
In silence, Mel’s gaze left his and landed on Lola. He knew Mel didn’t often show contempt or surprise, but her semi-parted lips and arched eyebrows hinted she drew her own conclusions.
“Yes, we’re definitely getting things … sorted. Aren’t we, honey?” Lola said with a voice softer than sheep’s skin. With a twinkle in her eyes, she glided her hand over his arm, brushing her fingers and magnetizing his flesh, leaving all of his hair standing onend.
