“Yeah,” she said softly.
“You look good on a horse.”
“I can’t believe how long it’s been.”
“You stopped after Lucky died.”
“It was middle school and there was too much happening in school and with my friends in town. I got bored.”
“You rode that horse everywhere,” Deck mused. “I couldn’t believe you painted his hoofs pink with little daisies. And put glitter on his hide. Talk about humiliation.”
“Come on. Lucky didn’t mind.”
“You charmed him. But then you charmed everyone.” He smiled at her the way he had, as if he’d never met anyone like her, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“Of course.” He held her gaze, telling her he remembered that and a whole lot more.
She shivered, feeling a rush of memory herself. Deck had made her feel special. And safe. Something she’d needed after her mother’s death, when the world seemed an unpredictable and dangerous place. She’d depended on Deck, on his arms, his kisses, his comfort.
Until he decided it was over. That had stung. She’d bounced back a bit and suggested they hang out in town, get a Coke at Ruby’s with her friends a few times. He’d declined, saying he had chores. A few days later he said they should end it. She was back to normal and it was time. He acted like he’d been doing her a favor.
Hurt and angry, she went back to her friends, to Taylor, who’d missed her terribly, and Deck went back to managing the ranch, and that was that. She’d be off to college soon anyway, what was the point in dragging it out?
All the same, the memories stuck. To this day, the smell of cedar blocks in her sweater drawer made her miss him.
Now they reached the top of the hill and she saw the Triple C spread out at her feet. Ahead lay the river, a lazy S curve lined by cottonwoods. Her heart lifted with pride. “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is.”
Her father had worked and loved every acre for thirty years. She would make sure he kept it if it killed her. “I hope we don’t have to sell off this section,” she said, speaking before she’d thought through her words.
“What?” Deck turned to her abruptly. Brandy snorted.
“The river makes these acres attractive to developers. They’d be perfect for ranchettes.”
“We need these acres for grazing, not to mention deed and density restrictions and water rights. This is a desert, Callie.”
“I don’t want to sell if we don’t have to, but it’s an option. This is the future, Deck. In the last decade, half the guest ranches in the country have been sold off and developed. The land’s too valuable to leave raw.”
He looked at her, his cheek muscle ticking like a bomb about to blow. “We’d have to cut the herd.”
“About that…” She took a deep breath. “I plan to sell the livestock as soon as it’s feasible. I’ll need you to track the sales so we can maximize our profit.”
“You’re selling the cattle.” The words hung dead in the air.
“We’ve been losing money, especially with the drought. Our only hope is turning the ranch into a resort.”
He stared at her, so she kept talking. “I know you took the foreman job to help Dad and I’m very grateful to you for that.”
Supposedly, he’d been at loose ends after selling his family’s horse ranch after his mother remarried and moved to California, but she knew he’d acted out of kindness.
“If you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.” She stopped. “Of course, we’d love to keep you through the changeover. If you wanted to become the field manager after that, that would be wonderful. We’ll add trail horses, of course. You’d work more with guests and manage more staff, coordinate the recreational activities and things like that.”
“I’m a rancher, Callie, not some guy with a whistle and a volleyball net.” His voice was low.
“It’s totally up to you. If you decide to leave, just give us time to find and train your replacement.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
He looked out toward the horizon for a long silent moment. Finally he turned to her, Brandy shifting impatiently beneath him. “It’s your land. Cal’s and yours. You can do with it what you want. As to my plans, I’ll let you know.”
“Good.” That was that. The worst was over. Deck wasn’t happy, but now he knew the situation and could make his decision.
She took him in. Silhouetted by the glowing sunset sky, he looked like a painting of the last cowboy—noble, proud, connected to the land, full of dignity and strength.
And so sexy. She shivered.
“You cold?” he asked.
“Not really. No.” She wasn’t about to explain. “But the light’s fading. We should get back.”
Without another word, they turned their horses and headed downhill. Poor Wiley snorted and sagged as his tired knees took on the gentle slope. In the distance the ranch house glowed a golden welcome from the big picture windows. Smaller lights lit the few guest rooms in use.
That would all change. She’d build a new two-story wing of guest rooms and five new casitas. Besides updating the ranch house and old casitas, she’d landscape ten more acres around the ranch, put in a pool and a tennis court, not to mention the four-star spa. She would work her magic as quickly as she could, then escape.
At the base of the hill, Deck turned to the east, taking a different trail back—the one to the hot springs. She wanted to say Not now, not with you, but what excuse could she give?
Soon they rounded the bend to the main pool, five feet across, edged by large stones. Farther on, there were two smaller pools, one set away from the others, marked as private for the family’s use. In the summer, the entire area was bright with the red, orange and yellow of desert wildflowers.
“Remember this?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she said, meeting his gaze, heat like a hot wire between them. She looked down to the water, settling herself. Wiley shifted beneath her, reacting to her tension. “Is the water level constant? The heat? Is it mucky at all?”
“It’s the same, Callie,” he said. “Still deep, still nature’s hot surprise.”
“That’s good to hear.”
She was flooded with the memory of stripping in the night chill of early spring, slipping through the steam to meet Deck, naked and waiting for her. Sheltered by the rough stones, up to their necks in the water, breathing in the earthy smell, they’d seemed like the first man and woman in the garden.
That was so long ago. Wiley side-stepped, picking up her distress. “We’ll improve this, of course.” She had to stick to the task before her, not get lost in nostalgia or regret.
“Huh?”
“We need concrete steps and a handrail, for one thing. For safety and convenience.”
“You want to turn it into some Holiday Inn hot tub?”
“I’ve studied hot springs all over the Southwest. This is the norm, Deck.”
“It’s fine the way it is. Natural and beautiful.”
“It’ll be that, but better. I want to dig out the smaller pools. Maybe open up a fourth where the water slides down the rocks?” She pointed. “Fence it off