BUCK AND THE ULTIMATE ADVENTURES GUESTS turned back from their trail ride when dark-gray clouds blew in from the south. Storms out of the south, Buck knew, were usually bad news. This time was no exception. While the small group was still fifteen minutes from the barn, the sky opened up and dropped rain on them in heavy sheets. In an instant they were soaked through to the skin, and there wasn’t anything they could do except ride on.
The weather report hadn’t called for rain. If it had, Buck would have tied rain slickers to the back of each saddle or canceled the ride altogether. But the reports had called for a clear and sunny day. Since clear and sunny were what residents of Kings Meadow enjoyed for most of the summer months, Buck hadn’t had reason to expect anything different.
He reined in and turned his gelding off the trail. “Sorry, folks,” he called to the party of six. “We’re almost there.” He hunched his shoulders against the downpour. Water ran off the brim of his hat as if from a faucet. “Just keep headed in that direction.” He pointed with his arm. “Sorry it’s so miserable.”
He waited until the last guest had passed him, then turned his horse onto the trail again. It was hard to see, and the last thing he needed was to lose somebody in the storm.
Chet and Kimberly were waiting for them in the barn. Kimberly passed out towels and, when the guests were ready to put something in their hands, large mugs of hot chocolate. Chet helped Buck tend to the horses. By the time the men were finished, the guests had been driven back to their quarters.
“Rotten thing to have happen,” Chet said.
Buck rubbed his hair with the towel he’d used earlier. “Hope your guests don’t blame you for the weather.”
“You can never tell.” Chet shrugged. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I know. Most of the folks I work with are great. They love the outdoors and horses, and they take in stride whatever comes while on a trip. But every so often . . .” Buck let his words fade into silence as he gave his head a slow shake.
Chet grunted in response.
Buck looked toward the open barn door. “It’s not letting up.”
“We need the moisture. Been a dry summer.” Chet leaned his shoulder against a post. “Buck, when do you think you’ll go back to outfitting?”
“I don’t have anything booked until the end of August.”
“How’d you like to come work for me until then? Full time. Not just leading trail rides for our guests but training horses, too, and general ranch work. I could really use you.”
Buck didn’t have to think about the offer. “Chet, there’s nothing I’d like better. I’m not used to having a lot of spare time on my hands. I like to be busy.”
“Great. Start tomorrow morning?”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll be here. Eight o’clock? Or do you want me earlier?”
“Eight’s fine.” Chet grinned. “Kimberly’s going to be glad to hear it. She’s been after me to hire another hand ever since Denny left for Colorado. I haven’t been very happy with the interviews I’ve had. Then I started wondering about you. You know horses and ranch work, and you’re good with people too. You’re a perfect fit.”
“I’ll try not to disappoint you.”
“I’m not worried about that.” Chet slapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Only disappointment will be when you leave us.”
Chet’s words stayed with Buck during the drive home. It felt good, the trust the other man had shown in him. What was more surprising was how much he liked the idea of ranch work. Especially the horse-training part. He knew a lot, but he didn’t know as much as Chet Leonard. Nobody in these mountains knew as much as Chet. A paycheck, even for a single month, would be a big help. Learning more about horse training from Chet would be a major bonus.
As his truck approached his driveway, the rain—little more than a sprinkle now—stopped and the clouds broke apart, letting through a bright beam of sunlight. It felt like a promise of some kind. Almost as a response, Charity sprang to mind. And along with her image came an old Vince Gill song. He began to sing it to himself. The lyrics were perfect. They described exactly how Charity made him feel. Whenever she came around, she made his knees go weak and his breath catch. Her smile turned his world upside down.
But he wouldn’t keep his feelings hidden. That part of the song was all wrong. Buck Malone was more determined than that. He just needed to find the right moment.
CLAD IN HER COTTON PAJAMAS, CHARITY STAYED UP until midnight in order to Skype with her parents at eight in the morning in Rome.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” She leaned closer to the laptop screen. “How are you? You look fabulous.”
“Thanks, honey,” her mom replied. “We are good. You cannot believe all of the wonderful things we’ve seen and the marvelous people we’ve met. I know we say that every time we talk, but it’s so true. We are having the trip of a lifetime.”
“Are you going to be ready to come home at the end of the month?”
“Of course. Dorothy was right, you know. There’s no place like home. But that doesn’t mean we won’t enjoy every single moment we’re here.”
Charity laughed softly.
“Now, tell us. How are you? How’s the book coming?”
“I’m okay, and the book’s coming along great. I’ll finish on time, and I think I’ll really like the book when it’s done.”
Sophie Anderson repositioned her iPad. “You look a little tired. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m getting enough sleep.”
“Don’t poke your chin out, dear. I’m still your mother and I worry about you.”
Charity gave her head a small shake. “I know, Mom, but you don’t have to worry.”
She imagined her sister pointing a finger at her, telling her that their mom did have cause to worry. And with it came a shiver in her stomach. When her parents returned, she would have to tell them everything she’d told Terri. At least with her sister, it had been over the phone. She wouldn’t get that same distance when she shared everything with her mom and dad. It was going to be harder than she wanted to contemplate.
The iPad got pulled over so that her dad’s face was all she saw. “My turn,” he said, looking at her mom offscreen. Then he smiled at Charity before asking, “How’s Cocoa?”
“Pretty good, considering. She’s getting around on three legs without trouble. She still sleeps a lot, but I think that’s the pain meds the vet has me give her.”
“Did the bear show up again?”
“No. No sightings anywhere. Must have gone back to the mountains right after it met up with Cocoa.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I hate it when a wild animal has to be shot just because it comes too close to civilization. It was only doing what bears do.” He frowned at her. “But you be careful when you’re outside, all the same.”
“I will.”
“How’s your house coming along?”
“Good, I think. Although the contractor is pretty tight-lipped about progress when I talk to him on the phone. I plan to drive down to Boise one day this week to see for myself.”
Charity’s mom popped back into view, going cheek to cheek with her husband. “Honey, we’ve got to go. We’re signed up for a tour this morning, and we don’t want to miss the bus.”
“Okay. Have a great time. Love you!”
“We’ll talk again next week. Bye. Love you too.”
The Skype connection was broken, and Charity felt the emptiness of the house swirl around her as she closed her laptop. After a few moments, she unfolded her legs, got up from the bed, and returned the computer to the desk. A breeze fluttered the curtains over the window, and she went to lower it about halfway before switching off the bedside lamp. Outside the night was pitch-black, clouds hiding the moon and stars. No lights were on at Buck’s house. Now that he was up and mobile, she’d learned that he was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise guy.
She lay down and pulled the sheet and lightweight blanket up to her chin. But she didn’t close her eyes. If she did, she knew thoughts about Buck would inevitably lead her back to the kiss they’d shared. Time and space hadn’t helped her forget it. The memory was always close by. It took great willpower to keep it at bay. Sometimes she succeeded. Often she did not.
It would be good for her to get away from Kings Meadow for a day. She’d already planned to go down to Boise to meet with the contractor and see the progress on her house. She would do it tomorrow or Wednesday. She would return to the valley and see how it felt to be home again.