“No, this is the way Will went.”
“But, you, um…you have to go back to the Big House.” A pause. “Will said.”
“He’s not my boss.” I’m clutching Molly’s sides with my legs for dear life, but so far, she seems utterly content to just amble slowly in the direction I have pointed.
I hear boots trotting across the dirt, and then leather creaking, and hooves clopping, and then Clint is beside me on a big tan horse with a dark mane. “Lady, you don’t even know where Will was going.”
“Nope,” I say, faking a bright, cheery tone. “But I’m sure I can find him.”
“Don’t be so sure. Out here, you miss him by fifty feet, you may as well have missed him by a mile.”
I smile at him, a coy, flirty grin I have rarely used on males, but which I do know for certain works like a charm. “Well, then, Clint, you’ll just have to make sure I find him, won’t you? Wouldn’t do for you let an innocent city girl get lost out here in the wilderness of a big, bad ranch, would it? And on your watch to boot. Why, that would just be terrible.”
He glares at me. “You’re a devious one, aint’cha?’
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” I say.
“Don’t bullshit me, Miss Brooklyn.”
I sigh, and drop the smarmy, flirty grin and attitude. “I’m going to have my ten minutes with Will, no matter what it takes.” I gesture at the ground ahead of us. “I may be a city girl through and through, and barely know which end of the horse is which, but even I can see plain as day which way they went.” There’s a wide path of trampled grass and thrown clots of sod and soil, as good as a big flashing arrow to where they went.
Clint snorts. “Sure. You’ll follow that sign for a mile, maybe two, and then suddenly it’ll get faint and eventually vanish. They all set out at once, and at a canter, but then as they settle in for the ride to where the herd is grazing, they spread out and slow down, and suddenly there’s no more path, and you’re lost in the middle of the ranch, and I guarantee you won’t have a fuckin’ clue where Alpha Camp is, much less the Big House or anything else. And then you’re alone in the middle of ten thousand acres on a strange horse you don’t know how to ride, with no food, no water, no clue where to go, and no cell service.” He slows his horse to a stop without so much as pulling on the reins, as if the horse just knows what he’s thinking. “So, good luck with that.”
I pretend I’m not scared out of my mind, that the thought of being alone out here isn’t utterly terrifying, that I’m not afraid I’m going to get lost and die alone, hungry and dirty and eaten by wolves or something. I pretend I’m fine, unconcerned. I ride forward, forcing my back straight and chin up, even though my spine feels like water and my stomach is roiling and my head is spinning and fears and doubts whirl like a tornado.
“Well, I’m willing to take my chances. I have to talk to Will. No isn’t an option.” Because I don’t have a plan B. If this doesn’t work, I have to go back to the drawing board, and I’ve spent way too much time and resources on this to just let it go because of a couple of noes from a stubborn ranch owner.
My determination to talk to Will has everything to do with my desperation to prove myself to Dad, to make this shot at earning his respect and trust work. It has everything to do with business, and nothing whatsoever to do with the fiery, piercing blue of Will’s eyes, or the tanned power in the corded muscles under his tanned, leathery skin, or the way his butt filled out his jeans or his arms stretched his sleeves, nothing to do with his wild, masculine scent or the rough, untamed animal spirit vibrating from his very pores.
He packed more raw, masculine, primal energy into one quick, dismissive glance at me than all the men I’ve ever met in my life.
But I’m definitely not following him across the ranch because of any of that.
I’m not that foolish, not completely ruled by my hormones or desires.
This is business, and I HAVE to get him to at least listen to my proposal, because I just know if he’d listen for ten stupid minutes—shit, five minutes, or even two—he’d come around.
The sky, once blue and endless, is clouding over, and the horse under me is tireless in her slow, steady walk across the rolling grass.
Eventually, I hear and feel Clint and his horse near me—behind and to the left a bit, out of the way but close by.
True to what Clint said, after a while, the trail begins to fade and spread out, until there’s nothing but wind-bent grass. Fear claws at my throat, because if I were to want to go back to the camp, I would have to go in a nearly perfectly straight line, or I’d miss the little cabin and stable—the landscape here is rolling, with folds and hills and hidden creases in the grassland, and I realize you could all too easily miss something as small as Alpha Camp in this wilderness.
I glance back at Clint, but his face is hard and expressionless, giving nothing away. “Well, as you predicted, the trail is gone.” I gesture ahead of us. “I don’t know about you, but my time is valuable to me. So, unless you want to waste the day riding aimlessly, you’d best just take me to Will.”
“You’re gonna get me fired,” he grouses.
“If he fires you, I’ll see that you get plenty of severance pay.”
He snorts. “Severance pay? Lady, you may know how business works in the city, but that ain’t how shit goes down out here. No such thing as severance pay.”
I glance at him. “Does the last name Bellanger mean anything to you?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Nope. Why? Should it?”
I laugh. “No, I suppose not. My point is, I’ll see that you’re taken care of, should your boss prove unreasonable.”
His answering glare is annoyed. “Taken care of? Lady, I donotneed some damn city girl in silk pants and high heels totake care ofme.”
