A Refuge for the Rancher (Brush Creek Brides Book 6) Read online

  Steve had ruined everything, and a loathing so strong Shannon couldn’t contain it surged through her body. Shannon had been so excited for her younger sister. Finally, one of the girls was going to get married. She’d never seen Hannah so happy, could actually hear the pure joy in her voice whenever they spoke.

  Their conversations had turned to wedding planning, and Shannon hadn’t minded at all. She hadn’t spent much time fantasizing about her big day, but Hannah had. She had an idea for what she wanted the dress to look like, and where the ceremony would be held, and the exact shade of pink she wanted for the roses in her bouquet.

  She’d been planning a spring wedding, one that would’ve happened about a month ago if Steve hadn’t revealed who he truly was. Of course, he’d only done that to Shannon and it seemed no one believed her.

  She picked up her phone and dialed her mother, realizing too late what time it was. She hung up hastily so she didn’t wake her mom, who was known to go to bed before eight o’clock. She felt unsettled inside, and she wasn’t even sure why. Sometimes she craved silence, but now wasn’t one of those times.

  She opened her browser and turned on an Internet radio station, a measure of relief pushing away some of her disquiet as the sound filtered through the room.

  The silence in her soul continued for a couple more days, despite her being surrounded by people and busier than ever at work. The end of the year was always a little insane, but this year felt especially so.

  By the time Grant pulled into her driveway on Friday evening, she was ready for some noise. She answered the door completely ready to go but still said, “Come in,” anyway.

  He ducked through the doorway wearing a pair of jeans and a black polo that made him seem dark and dangerous. He swiped his hat off his head, and she realized the hat was black tonight. Everything about him was a shade of midnight, and she stepped into him and slid her fingers up his arm. “It’s good to see you.” Fire raced from her fingertips to her elbow to her shoulder, and she shivered.

  Grant inhaled and took her hand in his. “You seem tired.”

  “Not what a woman wants to hear.” She smiled and gripped his fingers a little tighter.

  “I didn’t say you looked tired.” He glanced around her house, and she wondered what he saw. “I imagine the end of the school year is tough.”

  “I definitely can’t wait until June.” She lifted her purse from the end table. “And I’m completely ready for dinner. I think you mentioned burgers in your text this morning.”

  “You eat burgers?”

  “With everything on them.”

  “Well, let’s go then.”

  She held his hand to his truck, let him open the door for her, and sat right next to him on the bench seat as he drove. He told her about his family in San Antonio and his two married sisters. Shannon didn’t volunteer any information about her family, and thankfully, Grant didn’t ask.

  He drove back toward Vernal, bypassing the town where Shannon usually went on dates. Another ten minutes down the road, they came to a tiny hole-in-the-wall town called Clawson. He turned right, and then took another right farther down the road.

  “This feels sketchy,” she said with a somewhat nervous chuckle. “There is a restaurant out here, right?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a restaurant,” he said. “That’s much too generous. But they do have delicious burgers.”

  Up ahead, on the left, a single sign poked into the air. It simply read Dave’s and three trucks were parked out front. “At least we’re driving the right vehicle,” she said, employing her principal eagle eyes to scan the place. For what, she wasn’t sure, but a trickle of fear tripped through her. She liked it.

  “I should’ve worn different shoes,” she said as he pulled into the dirt and parked. She glanced at her heels and then Grant.

  “Nah,” he said. “Those are fine.” He got out of the truck and turned back to her. “More than fine. I like ‘em.” He grinned at her as she slid across the bench and let him help her down. He didn’t step back and she was suddenly glad for the increased height the black heels gave her. She gazed at him, noticing the storm in his eyes, and gripped his elbows in her hands.

  “Let’s eat,” he said, clearing his throat as he put some distance between them. She captured his hand and tread carefully on the somewhat rutted surface that led to the establishment.

  One step inside, and Shannon knew she was going to have a great night. Only six tables filled the space, with a bar in the back. Near that sat a one-man stage with a karaoke machine. Two of the tables were occupied, and several stools at the bar. No one was singing, but music played from the ancient jukebox near where they’d entered.

  “Grant.” A man came around the bar and pulled Grant into a big old man-hug, complete with the back-slapping and everything. “What the heck are you doin’ here? I haven’t seen you since you was with that—” His eyes cut to Shannon and back to Grant. “Well, for a long time. You guys eatin’ tonight?”

  “Yeah.” Grant freed himself from the other man and gestured to him. “Shannon, this is Dave.”

  “The Dave?”

  “The one and only.” He bowed slightly at the waist and shook her hand. “You two datin’?”

  Her eyes flew to Grant’s and held. He shrugged. “Maybe. This is our first date.”

  Warmth oozed through her like honey, and she tucked her arm into Grant’s. “How do you know Grant?” she asked.

  “We’re, uh, old rodeo pals.” Dave turned and pointed to the table farthest from the stage and the bar. “Y’all can sit there. I’ll get Tiffany to bring you some menus.”

  Shannon went with Grant to the indicated table and sat, her jeans a bit tighter than she liked. Maybe it was all the stress eating she’d been doing. “This place has menus?”

  “Don’t get excited,” Grant said. “You’ll see.”

  Tiffany appeared carrying two slips of paper that looked like Dave had scratched out the choices by hand. In blue pen. “Special tonight is the all-American bacon burger.”

  Grant looked at her, eyebrows raised. She nodded and said, “We’ll take two of those. And I want Diet Coke.” When she looked back at Grant, he wore a disgruntled look. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He handed back the “menu.” “I’ll take regular Coke.”

  Shannon watched the waitress go, her emotions teeming in her stomach. She’d gone and been all take-charge. She knew—she knew—her ordering for both of them had bothered Grant. Why did she do things like that? And better yet, how did she get herself to stop?

  “I’m sorry,” she said to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

  “For what?”

  “Ordering for us like I’m…I don’t even know what.” She waved in the direction the waitress had gone, not quite sure how to articulate what she was feeling. All she knew was she didn’t like the squirrelly way her nerves were firing.

  “You’re used to being in charge.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I don’t have to be,” she said.

  He leaned closer, something between a playful smirk and an annoyed grimace on his face. “I’ll admit, I like a woman who knows how to be in charge.”

  She stared at him, sure she’d heard him wrong. Most men found her intimidating, and once, a man had broken up with her because she “terrified him.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “But we’re not at work or school tonight. So maybe I can take care of you a little?”

  She liked the sound of that, and she relaxed. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Good.” He reached across the table and covered both of her hands with one of his. “So, tell me about your family.”

  Chapter Six

  Grant liked listening to Shannon talk. She had obviously been raised in a small town, and he guessed her parents still lived there. He had to guess, because she’d only said one sentence about her family before deviating into another topic.

  The words started to blur together as he
thought about how polished and sophisticated she was. She’d ordered for both of them, and she’d initiated almost all of their physical contact. While on some level he liked that, on another, it was completely intimidating. Again, he wondered how someone as put together as Shannon could like a simple cowboy like him.

  But she seemed to, and Grant was no stranger to dating. He’d felt the chemistry between them, and it was nearly explosive. Their drinks came and he unwrapped his straw carefully before downing half his soda. He needed to cool off, get his head back in the conversation, and find out if he really liked Shannon underneath all the makeup, jewelry, and confidence.

  He’d met a lot of cowboys and cowgirls like her, and every single one of them struggled with something. He theorized what her weakness would be, and he hoped he’d be around to help her with it.

  She finished a story about a third grader who brought live chickens to school, and their food arrived. Grant tried to soothe his frayed emotions with beef and bacon and a toasted bun. It didn’t quite work, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was bothering him.

  Shannon was gorgeous, educated, and interested. She was interesting.

  Finally, he realized that maybe she was a little too perfect. And that sooner or later, she’d realize how much better she was than him, and that they didn’t even exist on the same planet in the dating universe.

  But she laughed with him, and snuggled close on the drive home, and invited him to sip coffee on her back patio, all of which he enjoyed. His thoughts revolved around kissing her, and as his exhaustion increased, he finally stood and said, “Well, I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Do you work every weekend?”

  “Sure do. The animals need to be fed everyday.” He pulled her to her feet too and played with her fingers. “This was fun, right?”

  “I had a great time.” She beamed up at him, and he leaned down.

  Her eyes drifted closed and Grant could kiss her right now if he wanted to. And he definitely wanted to.

  “No kissing on the first date,” he whispered in her ear, completely bypassing her lips. “Didn’t your mama teach you that?”

  “What?” she asked breathlessly.

  Grant held her in his arms, a giddiness in his system he didn’t quite understand. “Never trust a man who kisses on the first date. So.” He stepped back and exhaled all his desires. “I’ll see you later.”

  She followed him through the house and leaned into the open front door while he stepped onto the porch. “When?” she asked.

  “How about you come up to the ranch tomorrow?” he asked, wondering if he’d just signed his own death warrant. “You want to take the kids to do some outdoor stuff. Maybe we could get you ready for that.”

  The briefest flash of fear crossed her features before she smiled. “All right. What time?”

  “After noon. I work with the cattle until lunchtime. My afternoons are much more relaxed.”

  “So about one?”

  “Sure, one works.” He tipped his hat and got himself down the steps and into his truck before he broke his rule about no kissing on the first date.

  Shannon drove a tiny little car, the first thing that made her stick out on the ranch. Grant had told her to come to his cabin, and the sporty silver number seemed completely out of place. He set his guitar down, resting it against the cabin, and stood. “Be nice,” he told Bullseye, who stood at attention on the edge of the porch.

  She unfolded herself from the car, and just like last night, she wore a tight pair of jeans that accentuated all her curves. Today she’d matched those with a yellow and white checkered shirt, knotted on the side so it fit her like a glove.

  She’d traded the heels for a pair of sandals that looked like they were made of yellow string. He laughed as she approached. “What?” she asked as Bullseye sniffed her legs. She bent down and scrubbed him behind the ears and patted his ribs. He gave her the stamp of approval, and Grant was impressed.

  “You realize we’re going to be outside.” He glanced pointedly at her shoes. “Hiking, riding horses, you know. Cowboy stuff.”

  “You didn’t specify what we’d be doing.”

  “I said we’d be doing some outdoor stuff like what we’d want the kids to do. Would you let them wear rubber bands for shoes?”

  “These are not rubber bands.”

  Grant chuckled and slipped one arm around her waist, drawing her closer. At least she’d let him touch her first this time. Probably because she’s upset about the shoe teasing.

  He grinned down at her anyway. “You’re not wearing any jewelry.”

  “I needed a day off,” she said. “I didn’t know you noticed my jewelry.”

  Grant swallowed and covered his nerves with a smile. “Oh, I noticed.” He’d noticed everything about her, from the immaculate condition of her makeup to her somewhat chewed fingernails. He leaned closer. “You’re kinda hard not to notice.”

  “I’ve noticed that you own at least two cowboy hats.”

  “At least being the operative words there,” he said. “I won’t even tell you how many I have. Don’t want you to think I have a fetish or something.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed, revealing a creamy throat Grant wanted to taste. He released her and stepped back, trying to infuse some reason into his head. He’d known Shannon for three weeks at best. Flirty texts, an upcoming summer working together, and one date didn’t mean they were serious. But if he kissed her…. Well, in Grant’s book, that was taking a relationship all the way to serious with a capital S.

  “You should see my shoe racks,” she said. “But I can quit any time I want.”

  Grant scoffed and then laughed as he led her down the front steps, Bullseye not about to miss out on the afternoon’s adventure. “Sure you can. Let’s go get the horses.”

  “Whoa. Horses? Plural?”

  “Trust me, you don’t wanna walk out to the trailhead. There’s barely a path.”

  “I’ve never ridden a horse before. I thought…maybe I thought I could ride with you.”

  Grant cast her a sideways look and found open worry on her face. It actually soothed him, as did the atrocious footwear. They proved she was human, imperfect, and maybe a little quirky.

  “I’ll talk to Gwyneth.” He bumped her with his hip and increased his pace when she protested, getting several paces ahead of her.

  “I knew she was going to be a problem!” Shannon called after him, and Grant sent his laughter into the sky.

  “All right,” Grant said once they’d entered the barn. “I asked Landon if you could ride Crossfire, and I think you’ll like him. He’s about a hundred years old, so he’s nice and gentle.” He stopped outside the first horse stall, where Landon’s personal horse lived. A beautiful brown and white horse, Crossfire was a thoroughbred. “He’s an excellent first horse to ride.”

  Shannon’s eyes widened as she gazed up at the horse. “He’s so big.”

  “He has no bite,” Grant said. “C’mon, I’ll help you get his saddle.”

  “You’re going to have to do it all,” she said. “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

  “And you grew up in Tennessee?”

  “Kentucky.”

  “Even horsier.”

  “Horsier? Is that a word?”

  He kicked a grin at her, glad she stood real close to him. “Sure it is.”

  “Where’s Gwyneth? We need to have a little girl-to-girl talk.” She scanned the stalls lining both sides of the aisle running down the middle of the barn.

  Grant crossed to the other side and stepped down three stalls. His beautiful black horse met him at the gate, and his smile softened into one filled with love for the animal. “Hey, girl,” he murmured to her. She flicked her tail and let her eyes close halfway. “I brought a friend to meet you. Told you we were goin’ ridin’ today.” He moved sideways and let Shannon come closer.

  “Well, this is about as non-blonde as you can get.”

  Grant slid one arm
around her waist and drew Shannon into his side. “I didn’t say she was blonde. I said I liked blondes.”

  Shannon switched her gaze from the horse’s face to Grant’s. “How many blondes have you dated?”

  “A fair few.”

  “How many brunettes?”

  “Some of them too.”

  “So you date a lot.”

  “I’d say so, yeah.” He looked into her eyes. “Is that a problem?”

  “Maybe for Gwyneth.” She giggled at her own joke, and Grant tugged her tighter against him, an infectious smile crossing his lips too. He enjoyed the quiet moment with his horse and Shannon, who he hoped he could call his girlfriend. His muscles squeezed and tightened before they released quickly.

  “So…are we dating?” he asked.

  Shannon blinked, her giggles subsiding into something more serious. “You’re the one who said our dinner last night was our first date.” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “And you wouldn’t kiss me, because you said it was the first date.”

  “So we must be.” He focused on the horse again, warmth blooming beneath his breastbone. “That’s good to know.” He pushed out a breath and said, “Let’s get ready to ride.”

  A good twenty minutes later, he finally had both horses saddled, in the yard, and Shannon ready to get on. She’d been pacing for the past ten minutes, working herself up to mounting the horse. Bullseye had flopped himself into the shade, and Grant wasn’t sure he’d come now. He wasn’t much for exercising or exploring.

  “The horse isn’t even gonna move,” Grant assured her again. “I’ll help you.” He couldn’t stop smiling, because he liked every darn thing about this woman. He liked her anxiety. Liked her skinny jeans. Liked her nervous laughter.

  And when she put her hand in his, he liked that too. “Foot there.” He indicated the stirrup. “Other leg over.” Shannon clearly worked out, because she had the leg and core strength to launch herself onto the horse.

  Grant did the same, and he took her reins and looped them around Gwyneth’s saddle horn. “All right. Now Crossfire’s biggest weakness is he doesn’t like water, and we’ll be crossing a stream. So I’ll lead—”