A Ranch to Keep. Claire McEwen
Jack crossed back over the creek and loosened the rope so the horse could actually reach the coveted grass. He gave him a pat on the neck and came back toward her, watching her with that half smile...and those deep blue eyes.
“So I gotta say it’s not every day I see a beautiful, half-dressed woman at my favorite lunch spot.”
Samantha wondered if Jack might simply attribute her bright red face to sunburn. It was blazing-hot out, after all. “Well if I’d known it was going to get crowded I’d have made a reservation.”
Jack laughed. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.” He winked and sat down on the rock next to her. Reaching into his decrepit old bag he pulled out a sandwich and held it out to her. “Hungry?”
“No, thanks. I’d better get going actually.”
“I don’t mind your company.” His eyes were serious for a moment and then the usual humor was back. “Though you might want to consider keeping your clothes on.”
Samantha couldn’t help it. It was impossible to maintain her casual demeanor. “Enough!” Her voice was pained. “Ever since I got here two days ago I’ve done one stupid thing after another, all in front of you! It’s all been incredibly embarrassing and I just don’t get it. This isn’t me! I am not like this!” She gestured at the creek in front of them.
“You mean you don’t usually want to cool off on a hot day? I wouldn’t call it embarrassing, Samantha, I’d call it human. If it hadn’t taken me so long to find old Gideon there, you’d have probably come across me in this creek. And there’d have been a lot more clothing than just a T-shirt sitting on that rock!”
Samantha stared at him, trying to absorb the image of a stark-naked Jack Baron splashing in the creek. It was an unsettling picture and she tried to banish her visions of lean muscle and golden skin and all the other bits she might have seen. She came back to the present and saw him grinning at her with an enjoyment that told her he knew exactly where her thoughts had been.
His eyes were lit with a mischief and she wanted to stay and look at them longer, but that wasn’t a good thing so she decided to go. “Well, I’m going to take my red-faced self back to the house and get some work done before I leave today.” She reached for her pumps and started to pull them on.
Jack took one look at her footwear and his grin faded. “Are you trying to sprain your other ankle? Where are your work boots?”
She glared at him. “They’re ugly. I couldn’t face them this morning.”
Jack’s expression was half amusement and half disbelief. “They’re work boots, Samantha! They’re not supposed to be cute, they’re supposed to protect you!”
“My feet are fine.” He looked so horrified that she grinned, succumbing to the temptation to tease him. “In fact, these shoes are incredibly useful. If I meet a bear I can just smack it across the head with one of the heels. They’re Italian. Well made. Dangerous.”
Jack burst out laughing. “That’s quite an image. I don’t know whether to pity that bear or envy him!”
The naughty reference sunk in and she laughed sharply, surprised at his wicked humor. What was it about him that made her want to dish it right back? “Somehow we always end up talking about my shoes, Jack. I’m starting to wonder about you.”
“Wonder away.” Jack pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, which the sunlight spun into dark gold. He gave an exaggerated wink. “I’m just glad to know I have a place in your fantasies.”
“I’m not sure that’s what I’d call them. Concerns, maybe?”
His laugh rang out over the sound of the creek and the little horse, who’d been happily munching by the pine tree, looked up at the sound. Samantha watched him watch Jack for a moment, and then go back to his grass clump. When she looked away, Jack was regarding her intently, the last fragment of his smile still curling his lip. His eyes were serious in contrast.
“You’re something else, Frisco.”
“Probably.” She couldn’t move. She’d grown roots, and her body was heavy. All she wanted was to stay there, lost in that look that held her so firmly. Sitting next to him on the rock she was inches away from the bronzed skin of his arm, from the biceps that rose below the sleeve of his shirt, and she could see the way his hair trailed over his collar at the back. He smelled like salt and horse and something else...something comforting.
It had that same feeling from yesterday, on the porch. Liquid heat, as if her muscles had gone soft with wanting him. She was glad she was sitting down. The image of herself collapsing into a puddle on this rock was enough to pull her out of her trance. The last thing she wanted was another embarrassing moment. Or to kiss her neighbor. It was past time to put some distance between her and Jack Baron.
“Well, Cowboy, this has all been very informative but I’d better get back and let you eat your lunch in peace.”
“I’m feeling pretty peaceful right now.” His eyes darkened, the way she’d noticed they did when he grew serious.
“I need to go.” Samantha stood up. She wanted to turn away from him and run. She wasn’t comfortable with the way those eyes made her feel.
“I’ll be down to finish the upstairs windows this afternoon.” His voice was casual again, the moment of intensity gone so quickly it was easy to pretend it hadn’t existed.
“Oh yes, about that,” Samantha said. “I have a lot of work to do this afternoon. Would you understand if I didn’t come out to help?”
He met her request with his usual wry smile. “No offence, Friso, but after yesterday I was thinking I might be a little safer doing the job on my own anyway.”
Relief shifted through her. And just a fleck of disappointment, which she quickly squelched. “I guess I can see why you might feel that way. It seems that prying off boards isn’t one of my innate talents.”
“Well, I’m sure you have many others,” Jack assured her.
“So I’ve been told.” She laughed, glad to have the buffer of humor back between them. “I’ll see you later then.”
Samantha turned and picked her way down the path toward the house. As she got to the turn in the trail where the lizard had been, she turned to look back. Jack had just finished pulling his shirt off and when he spotted her looking he gave her an enthusiastic wave. Then he splashed into the pool and let out a wild whoop which wafted across the quiet stillness of the hot hillside. Suddenly she wanted, fiercely, to go back there and be with him—to be close to all that light and humor.
Shaking her head at her own inexplicable thoughts, Samantha turned back to the task of picking her way across the rocky ground in heels without breaking her ankle. It was time to get to work. She had hours of cleaning ahead of her, and her email inbox was full enough to cause panic whenever she glanced at it. In the morning she’d pack up early and head back to San Francisco. Six hours of driving and the bustle of the big city should be enough to wipe out this wild and impractical desire to splash in a mountain stream with an undressed Jack Baron.
* * *
IT WAS STILL HOT. Hotter, actually, thanks to the afternoon sun reflecting back at him from the clapboard siding of the old house. The refreshing chill he’d felt after his visit to the creek earlier was a distant memory. Sweat rolled down his back in rivulets. Jack wiped what felt like steam out of his eyes and cursed the misguided sense of chivalry that had gotten him here, balanced on this shaky ladder alongside the old Rylant farmhouse.
Hoisting the crowbar up, he wrenched a board off the window and was rewarded with yet another shower of wood dust and paint chips. The board hurtled to the ground and landed with a thud amongst its fellow discards. Only one more window to go and then he was heading straight to the shower and the iciest beer his fridge had to offer.
Jack climbed down to move the ladder over and caught a