“I take it you like working the R-M?” Bethany asked Aaron during the drive to the ranch.
“Yes ma’am. Roger and I work well together. After we mustered out of the Army Rangers, he asked if I wanted to work at his ranch, I jumped at the chance.” He smiled shyly at the pretty redhead seated next to him. He knew the boss liked her and he had no thoughts of making any moves, but having her in the seat next to him felt good.
“Did you come from a ranching family before the Army?” she asked gently. Bethany could see that this man was mildly uncomfortable with her presence and wanted to put him more at ease.
“My pa was a foreman for a corporate ranch in Texas where I grew up. He raised me after my mom left,” Aaron admitted. “He died in an accident while I was in the Rangers.” Aaron spilled most of his life story to her. He surprised himself by doing so. “The R-M is my home, and Roger and the boys are my family,” he claimed, a smile breaking through his curly blonde beard.
“I know that ranch life makes for close ties. You’ve got to be able to depend on one another in so many situations,” Bethany agreed with him. “I’ve no close family,” she told him. “My dad remarried and my brothers have families of their own now. I’ve just been wandering around the USA for the past year or so. Maybe I’ll find a place to settle soon.” She smiled out her window, thinking that she could easily settle in Riverview. It had everything she wanted in a hometown.
Roger waved at her when she hopped out of the truck and Aaron took the supplies around to the barn. “Hi, glad to see you made it through another day at work,” he smiled. “This being Friday night, the boys are headed into town. I thought that I might make us dinner. Is that okay with you?” He inquired. She could not decipher the look in his eyes, but he was smiling at her.
“Sounds good. Do you need me to help? I can bring over a salad.” She smiled back at him.
“A salad would be fine. I’m going to grill salmon and some veggies. I hope you like that menu,” he told her, thinking she looked happy.
“Oh, I love grilled salmon and you know I like grilled veggies.” She patted her tummy in remembrance of the veggies with the steak on her first night there.
“Okay, come on over at six-thirty with the salad.” Roger found his voice husky as he continued, “I’ll have the fish ready to grill and we can open a bottle of wine.”
“Will do.” Bethany’s own voice was lower as her eyes met his. She noticed his were the bluest she had seen them, and she felt them down to her toes. She quickly turned and went into her cabin.
Uh-oh. She wasn’t certain where this was going, but her skin tingled and her heart was racing. Would this be a relationship? Was it the start of a possible relationship to want him? She felt so confused. She moved around the cabin, turning on the radio as she walked to the kitchen area. She grabbed an apple and ate it to ease the growling of her stomach while she created a mixed green salad for two and turned on the shower.
Roger went into his house whistling. A smile was playing around his lips and his heart was light. He had a date. He had only one other date since Mel died. It had been at the suggestion of a grief counselor he’d been visiting. He remembered the disaster. The girl was a friend from school who had been divorced twice. He didn’t know what he expected from that date. However, having a friend jump him was not the outcome of the evening he had envisioned. He’d tried to explain himself to her, but when he dropped her off at her house, she’d been angry. She got over it, but she hardly spoke to him, even now. Since then, he hadn’t wanted to date.
Shorty had gone online to a “dating service” and used Roger’s name and information to help him. That was a farce. There had been several “matches”, but once Roger knew about the way Shorty had set him up, he had no desire to meet any of these women. He wasn’t at a point in his life to believe that his “soul mate” could be found through a dating service.
Roger smiled to himself. “All things come to those who wait” might be the appropriate quote for him. After all, he had a date tonight with a redhead who had his interest on all levels. To hell with the computer age. He found himself humming to a country western tune about love found and kept forever that was playing on the radio. He quickly straightened up the house, marinated the fish and started the grill.
After a quick shower, Bethany walked over to her lingerie drawer and pulled out a tiny lace thong and a matching demi push-up bra. Now would be the time to get the courage to wear them. She smiled to herself as she dropped the towel and stepped into the thong.
She didn’t want to look sleazy, but she wanted Roger to see her as sexy. She carefully searched for a shirt that would make just the right statement. She found one of the gemmed shirts to wear over a snug bright-colored tank top. If she left the front of the shirt open, the tank color would draw his eyes to her soft curves. From her selection of skinny pants, she found a pair that matched the color of the over-shirt and complemented the tank top. They slid over the bare skin of her hips to rest at her small natural waist. She turned around in front of the mirror to verify the thong left no lines, giving the appearance of having nothing on under the pants.
Bethany looked at the sexy redhead in the mirror. Was it really less than three weeks ago that she wore clothes guaranteed not to draw attention? She marveled at the changes over the past two weeks. She brushed her short auburn curls, and then ran her fingers through them to give her hair a wilder look. Finally, she took out the green contacts. No one but Roger would see her eyes tonight, so she didn’t need to hide their color. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She watched her face in the mirror as she thought about him. Roger made her feel soft and safe; he was funny, sweet and seemed to like her. She thought he was sexy and wondered how it would feel to kiss him. Her expression softened and her eyes looked dreamy at the thought. She found herself blushing to the edge of her ears. She turned off the light, took the salad from the fridge and walked out the door, locking it behind her.
Uncertain which door she should use, she went to the front door. Since this was kind of a date, she thought it might be more appropriate. She knocked lightly and Rogers’ quick response rewarded her.
“Hi Bethany. I saw you coming.” He smiled at her as she stepped into the house. His eyes widened, went from gray to almost fluorescent blue. He watched her walk into his living room, wondering what she wore under that tank top and those well-filled pants. Whoa, this was just a dinner date, nothing more.
“Hi Roger.” She could feel the sparks from where she stood. Guess he liked the outfit. She looked away from the expression in his eyes, her cheeks turning red. She examined the large great room that opened to a modern kitchen with a small bistro table set in front of French doors that opened onto the back deck. Between the kitchen and the small table was the long table the hands used. “What a lovely home!” she exclaimed. “This is a perfect layout. That view to the deck and mountains beyond is breathtaking.” She relaxed admiring his home.
“Thanks, I’m glad you like it. I remodeled a few years ago, putting in the deck and the French doors. There’d been a large window there.” He knew he was rambling, but he needed to say something to distract himself from attacking her.
“You did a beautiful job.” She walked toward the kitchen with the salad, hips swaying gently as she moved. “This kitchen is wonderful, and the entire space feels so warm and welcoming.” Bethany was happy to hear her voice had regained its normal tones. “I love it.”
“Here, let me take that,” he said, following her to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of wine, or would you prefer a beer?” When he took the salad bowl, he felt a jolt of electricity as his hand touched hers. He froze, his hands touching hers. “Wow, there we go again. Remember that first meeting at the Co-Op?” His voice had gotten husky, remembering that first shock they had experienced.
She blushed at the memory of that spark. “I remember,” she said. “I think I could use a beer this evening, if you don’t mind. I wonder what there is about us that raises this electricity?” She looked into his eyes and was again lost in their color.
He opted to ignore that comment and moved to get her a beer. Since he had been longing for one, he smiled at her. “How did you know I really wanted a beer over wine; was I that obvious?” he asked.
“No, but most men prefer a beer to wine any day or time, so that choice was easy. Besides, I like beer.” She followed him to the table.
She watched him take two beers from the fridge. “I don’t use one, but here’s a glass for you,” he said as he took a cold pilsner glass from the freezer while getting the beers. He handed her the glass, willing the electricity to happen again when she touched his hand, but it didn’t. Instead, warmth spread from her hand to his from the casual touch.
“Do you need any help with the fish?” she asked taking the glass from his warm hand and pouring her beer into it. She marveled at the strength and warmth she’d felt from touching just his hand. Amazing.
“Come out to talk, grilling fish is pretty much a one-person job.” Picking up the platter that held the foil-wrapped fish, he led her to the sliding door. Roger kept both hands on the platter to keep himself from running one around her tempting waist. His fingers itched to caress the soft tank top and what it covered. Later. He took a deep breath to slow his heart and even his breathing.
Bethany opened the grill lid for him. Roger slid the fish off the platter and onto the grill closing the lid. “There, it won’t take long. Fish cooks fast.” He smiled over at her. “How was your day at work? Any new gossip in town?” Roger asked in an effort to keep conversation light.
“Not bad. I got a backhanded compliment from old Sam. He told Norman to check the order I wrote carefully, as ‘pretty women seldom are very smart’. I could only take it as a compliment to my looks. Otherwise, it would be an insult to my intelligence.” She laughed, remembering the incident.
Roger felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of anyone admiring Bethany’s looks except him. “Old Sam seldom says anything he doesn’t mean, no matter whose feelings he might hurt. You were right to take the positive side of the comment,” he agreed with her assessment of the situation.
“How’d your day go around here?” Bethany asked.
“Oh, well, after I dropped you in town I went by the far pasture to check on an injured bull,” Roger told her. “He’s too difficult to move, so we had tranquilized him and doctored him there.” He recounted the incident. “The cut is healing. Looks good from a hundred yards through binoculars.” Roger smiled at her as she laughed at the idea of checking the injury from a hundred yards.
“Must not be your prime bull, or you’d have tranquilized him again and looked more carefully.” Bethany had moved over behind the grill to watch Roger. She felt less vulnerable with the built-in grill between them.
They sipped their beer in silence for a few moments. Bethany had turned to watch the sunset while Roger spent the time watching Bethany with the setting sun behind her, her hair picking up the reddish hues and her skin looking almost golden. His mouth watered and it had nothing to do with the fish cooking in front of him. She turned back to him and caught him watching her.
“What? Do I have something in my hair?” She put a hand to her curls.
“No, I was just admiring the color in the light of the setting sun. Amazing.” He smiled and his eyes moved down to her waist while the sunlight shone through her shirt, outlining her skin-tight tank top and her breasts for him. He tried not to stare, but found his eyes resting on the sight before moving back to take in her eyes.
“I take it this shirt is not as demure as I thought?” she asked.
He blushed but didn’t look away. “It’s kind of transparent in this light, but your tank top isn’t. The view is quite nice from over here,” he said, blushing more. “Can’t blame a man for enjoying the view.” His voice was husky again.
“No, but maybe I ought to move where the sun isn’t behind me.” She felt herself blushing too. “The fish should be getting done; why don’t I go in and serve the salad?” she asked moving toward the kitchen. His face showed such disappointment at her moving she found herself laughing.
“That’s probably a good idea. Stand there much longer and the fish might burn.” He laughed. He had forgotten it. He opened the grill, checked the fish and slid it carefully onto a platter. He would clean the grill tomorrow. “Hold the door, it’s done and I’m bringing it in.” Fitting actions to words, he followed her into the house.
“Mmmm, that smells good. What kind of marinade did you use?” she asked as she put bowls on the table and found the serving tongs for the salad and a large fork for the fish.
“It’s one I make with honey, chipotle mustard and other secret ingredients. See if you can guess them,” he challenged.
“I like a good challenge. I’ll let you know as I taste them.” She put salad into her bowl and used the large fork to separate some fish and slide it onto her plate. She noticed there was tartar sauce on the table, but she let it be for the moment. She cut the fish with her fork and took a delicate bite. “Yes, I taste the honey, the chipotle, the tang of mustard, maybe some Worcestershire?” she asked.
“Good job, only a few drops, anything else?”
“I think salt and pepper, maybe some onion powder and maybe some lemon pepper.” She put down her fork and waited for his reply.
“You’re good. I bet you’re quite a cook, too.” He laughed. “You nailed it. If I don’t have lemon pepper, I use lemon juice, but the pepper is better.” He began to eat his and watched her savor each bite of the fish. “Nothing a cook likes more than watching someone enjoy the food they put on the table.” He grinned.
“I could stuff myself with this fish and eat nothing else; it’s so delicate, tender and moist.” She told him taking another bite. “Who needs salad?”
“Now, while I agree about the fish, it’s not a meal unless you have vegetables too. You eat your salad, young lady.” He shook a finger at her in mock severity. Then he laughed when she obediently added dressing to her salad.
“Yes sir. Salad is my friend,” she said before eating a bite. She finished the fish on her plate and took some more before she turned to the salad and finished it too. “I’m never bashful about eating. Unfortunately, my waistline often shows that lack of control.” She frowned.
“From where I sit, your waistline is perfect. You could even add a couple of inches and it would be perfect.” He looked at from eyes to waist and back up.
She blushed. “You must like the color red. I keep turning it for you.” She laughed, feeling her ears burn.
“I love the color your face turns and I enjoy the fact that you can blush.” He smiled,, sitting back from the table. “Blushing is a lost art. Most city girls never learn to blush and most country girls lose the ability after going to college.” His look turned serious. “Yep. I like the fact that you can blush so nicely. It tells me a lot about you,” he said. “I like your eyes; the hazel is more you than the green.”
“You sweet talker,” she said, laughing. “Bet you say that to all the girls.” She couldn’t help but tease him. This conversation was getting embarrassing. “What time are you going to the Bazaar tomorrow?”
“If you’re walking over with Norman, I can meet you there about two.” He allowed the subject to move on to mundane things. “If you’re going alone, I can be at the store at noon to walk over with you.”
“I wish you and Norman would realize that I can take care of myself. I have a can of pepper spray and I know some defensive moves. Not only that, in Riverview, all I would have to do is scream and half the men would come running.” Her tone showed her exasperation with the over-protectiveness of the men around her. “I’d be fine walking alone.”
“Easy girl, it’s not that we don’t think you can take care of yourself. It’s just that we don’t think you should have to defend yourself.” Roger motioned with his hands for her to settle down.
“I plan on walking over with Norman, okay? I think that I’ll be fine wandering the Bazaar alone.” She tried not to snap at him and smiled at the end of her statement. “Besides, no man wants to wander with a woman who is shopping; they don’t know how to walk that slowly.”
“Shopping? I thought it was just food and watching the kids play games.” His pained expression gave his opinion of wandering around shopping.
“Betty told me there are lots of handicraft booths at the Bazaar and a portion of each sale goes to the Ladies Auxiliary for Camp and Christmas for those who can’t afford either.” She smiled, noticing he looked a little less like a man on his way to the gallows.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at two. If you don’t see me, move over to the church and I’ll find you,” he told her. “Now, would you like a glass of wine to take out onto the porch? I thought we could sit out there and listen to the sounds of the night.”
“Yes, I’d love some wine now.” She stood up and began to move the dishes over to the sink.
“I’ll take care of those. You go on out. That swing is comfortable.” He pointed at the large swing on the front porch.
She walked out the front door and sat on the swing. One of the stock dogs came over to get some attention, and she was petting him when Roger came out holding two glasses, an open bottle of wine, and a quilted throw that he put over her legs.
“I thought it might be chilly out here. I keep this quilt on the swing most of the summer,” he said sitting down next to her. He handed her the glasses and poured wine in each. He sat the bottle on the table next to the swing and took his glass from her. “I like this Riesling. It’s a little sweet, but it’s so mellow.” He sipped his wine.
“Thanks for the wine and the comforter.” She sipped her wine too. “This is good wine. Smooth.” She leaned back and looked out at the ranch and up toward the heavens. “I love watching the stars come out. It makes me feel humble. The heavens are so huge.” She sighed.
Roger placed his arm behind her head without even realizing what he was doing when he leaned back and looked up too. “Yes, this is God’s country, and the heavens seem to reach beyond the horizon.” His arm touched her shoulders, startled him and he withdrew it quickly. “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean, uh, I didn’t realize I’d done that.” He fumbled for words, trying not to sound like an idiot. He sat up and saw her amused expression. “I mean that it’s a habit to put my arm along the swing, I didn’t mean to be fresh or anything. Do people even say ‘fresh’ anymore?” Roger was glad it was dark, he could feel himself blushing again.
“It’s okay. I know what you mean. Some things we do without thinking,” she said, looking out at the skies again. “I haven’t dated much, so I don’t know what phrases are being used today.” She smiled. “I have to ask. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?” She looked over at him with interest, waiting for his answer.
“I’m thirty-four. It’s been over ten years since I’ve actually dated,” he said. “To say I’m behind the times is a major understatement.” He looked at her. “You look mighty fine. I would have thought you no older than twenty-five,” he complimented her with a straight face.
“Now I know you’re a flatterer.” She laughed and turned so that she could rest her head against his shoulder. “This is comfortable. Now I understand why men have broad shoulders, just so they can be used as pillows.”
“Thanks, I think,” he said putting his hand along the top rail of the swing. He noticed she didn’t move away and seemed to be comfortable in the shelter of his arm. “You feel good right there, glad I could oblige.”
“You were raised on this ranch, weren’t you?” she asked. “You seem so right here and I can’t picture you anywhere else.”
“Yes, it belonged to my dad’s family and he inherited it before he and mom got married. She moved in and they were happy. I was born here; it was a blizzard and dad couldn’t risk being stuck on the road. He delivered me the same as he delivered the calves in the spring. At least he knew what to expect.” He smiled at the story his mother had told him so many times when he was a child.
“I was born in a hospital, like most city kids. My mother died when I was twelve from a car crash. Drunk driver.” Her voice trailed off at the memory.
“I’m sorry. It must’ve been tough for a girl to grow up without a mother.” He found his hand in her hair, playing with the curls.
“I don’t remember it being bad; I did what needed to be done. I learned about all the ‘girl’ things from my teachers at school and I taught myself how to cook and wash clothes. I regret growing up so fast, but I always knew my dad and brothers loved and needed me.” She could feel the tears behind her eyes and sighed them away. “My only regret was the fact that I married the first man who paid me any attention. That was my worst mistake,” she said.
“How long did you know him before you married?” Roger asked.
“Three months. I was just out of high school and I was married before my first semester of college began.” She snickered. “Dumb kid, I never gave myself a chance to be independent before I had another man to look after.”
She shook her head at the thought of Bobby. “He was worse than my family. He expected me to cook, clean and be ready for whatever sex he felt like having. He never gave a damn about what I might want, about anything.” She shook her head again. “What an ass he was and how I worshipped him at the time we got married.” She sighed.
“I learned better, but it took years for the lesson to sink in. One day, it was over and he no longer wanted my body or my cooking.” She frowned. “He let me know I was no longer good enough for the star surgeon he had become. He wanted a trophy wife.” This time a tear escaped down her cheek. “The best thing he ever did was divorce me so that I could have a life.”
Roger listened and wondered how any man could be so insensitive to this, or any, woman. “You deserve better than him, much better, and I hope you find it.” He rubbed her curls between his fingers.
He took a sip of his wine and wondered why her story made him so angry with a man he’d never met. Bastard. Her family wasn’t much better, users, all of them. All willing to make her an adult before she had a chance to be a kid. He shook his head. He found as the silence lengthened, that he wanted to kiss her and make her feel better.
He jumped up. “It’s really getting cold out here. Maybe I should walk you home. I’ll clean your salad bowl and bring it back tomorrow.” He was running sentences together again. Damn, what was there about the woman that made him as nervous as a teenager on his first date? He put his hand down and took hers to help her up.
“Thanks, but you don’t need to walk me the five yards to the cabin,” she said.
“A gentleman sees a lady home.” He smiled at her. “Don’t you make me go against one of the major rules my mother drilled into my head about proper manners,” he told her, taking her elbow.
She allowed him to walk her back to the cabin, noting that his hand slipped from her elbow to the small of her back while they walked. At the door, he turned her to face him and his hand rested around her waist, on her hip. “Thanks for a lovely evening, and that fish was wonderful,” she told him. She tilted her head up to see his eyes.
Roger saw the tilt of her chin and brought his mouth down to cover hers. He felt her start and began to move away when she stepped in, her lips parting. With this encouragement, he deepened his kiss for long seconds. Then he stepped back, lifting his head. “Wow, I forgot how wonderful a woman’s mouth can feel, soft and warm,” he said, his breathing lightly ragged and his voice husky. He bent down and claimed her lips again to see if the second kiss could be as good as the first. Their tongues tangled and he took her bottom lip into his mouth, gently sucking it, then he once more swiped the interior of her mouth with his tongue. This time when they broke apart, both of them were breathing raggedly.
“Wow is right. I’m certain your lips should be licensed.” She laughed shakily, trying to get her breathing back to normal.
Roger realized how turned on he was holding and kissing her, and she felt his body jerk away from hers as if there was a cattle prod between them. “I’ve got to go. It’s late. See you in the morning,” he stammered backing off the cabin porch and almost ran back to the house.
Bethany wondered what brought that on. Maybe he didn’t like her comment or the fact of her arousal and response to their kissing session. She definitely felt some sparks and fire with him. Chemistry, first need met, she thought. Now, that just left all of her other ideals to be met. However, he was good looking, sexy, healthy; that left only honorable, supportive, loving, gentle and mutual interests. He looked like a possible candidate; but did she want a relationship? Was she ready for one? She shook her head and turned to go into the cabin.