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2
The bitter taste thehot cowboy left in my mouth soon vanished when I entered my cosy dwelling. I walked inside to gaze upon an exposed wooden beam ceiling, wicker furniture, and antique dressers. The colourful bedclothes reminded me of the padded saddle blankets they use out here. The Native American Indian feel to them intrigued me as much as the desert landscape I was surrounded by.
Turning to my bags, I took my time to unpack my life and rearrange it for the next four weeks. Four weeks. Twenty-eight days. It kept going around and around in my head. Why had I listened to Mum that two weeks wasn’t enough?
I flopped down on the soft, cool bed, and closed my sore eyes. The ceiling fans hummed away above me, circling the air with a gentle breeze gliding over my skin. For the first time in weeks, I found myself relaxing. The tension leaving my muscles felt like a dead weight being lifted.
Just as I began being lulled into the beginnings of a deep sleep, unwelcome images appeared, burning the insides of my eyelids once again. I jumped up, glancing over to the bedside cabinet at my sleeping tablets. The dream free slumber they gave me was bliss, but the chemical hangover the next day was never welcomed.
I headed for the shower. The cold water would wake me up for the few hours I needed to get through dinner.
***
BY THE TIME I SHOWERED, dressed, and wandered up to the main house, the delicious aroma of cooking meat filled the air. The sun was starting to hide behind the glorious mountains in the distance, taking the sweltering heat with it. Arizona in July was perhaps not my smartest move.
The main house was also a beautiful Hacienda type. Orange and yellow brickwork, dark wooden edgings, weeping trees, colourful plants, and of course, cacti, it really was quite something to behold. In front of the house was a sandy pink coloured patio area. Several wooden tables were dotted about with tall night lights scattered between them, giving the whole atmosphere the perfect twilight glow.
Chatter and laughter flowed all around, making my solo appearance less obvious. I did my best to merge into the scenery, selecting a table near the edge of the area, partially hidden by the encroaching darkness, and away from anyone else.
“Sophie!”
Friendly American drawl headed my way as John, the ranch owner, strode towards me. His bushy grey moustache combined with his carthorse built shoulders stood out a mile away.
He extended a shovel sized hand towards me before he sat down on the opposite side of the table. I shook his hand with a smile, trying to hide my pain as he crumpled my hand inside his. At least he had a proper man’s handshake.
“Nice to meet you, finally. How was your journey?”
I laughed. “Long. Thank you so much for accommodating me at such short notice.”
He waved his hand through the air. “Not a problem. We’re a helpful kind of folk. Besides, Zoe did kind of stress the importance of it.”
I blushed and glanced down, my cheeks heating up with every passing second. “She’s a good friend. I’m lucky she has such great family.”
“Ah, think nothing of it. Consider yourself part of the family.”
“Thank you,” I said, meeting his friendly gaze. “What’s with your moody cowboy by the way?”
He grinned. “I see you met Brady. Take no notice of him. He can be a little cold at first with outsiders.”
“Are you sure he’s the right sort to be working with guests and all?”
A deep laugh boomed from his chest. “Brady Lancaster is one of the finest cowboy’s you’ll ever meet. What that man can’t do on a ranch isn’t worth knowing.” He chuckled away to himself, and stood up. “Best get back to the meat before I get blamed for burning it. I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Any problems, you come see me.”
I nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“Well, from what I understand, it may well be needed.” A flash of sympathy passed over his weathered face before he tipped his hat, and strode back to the grill.
I tried not to think of the problems I currently faced—Zoe being one. A huge fall out with my best friend a mere few hours before my life crashed around me was not something I wanted, or needed. We were inseparable, but our arguments could be more than volatile. Even though we weren’t on speaking terms, she had still been looking out for my welfare as soon as my mother filled her in on my situation. For that, I owed her a massive hug at least.
I looked down at my left wrist, rubbing my right hand over it as I lost myself in thought. My hair fell forwards, the wavy brown strands covering my threat of tears. I blinked several times, washing them away and burying my self-pity.
I glanced around, waiting for the crowd around John and the food to disperse before attempting to grab something to eat.
It was then I spotted him staring at me—Brady. His silhouette against the dark blue evening sky was like something from a poster. The nearby night light picked out the twinkle in his eyes, and despite our frosty interactions, I couldn’t deny he was fascinating just to look at.
He leaned back on the waist high brick wall surrounding the patio area. With his ankles crossed and supporting himself on an elbow, he looked every inch the sexy, casual guy. Lifting his burger to his mouth, he tore at it with a blasé attitude, almost as if it was only there to serve as a prop to his image.
He continued staring as I glared back at him. It was a very rare occasion I felt vulnerable, but over the last few weeks, I’d never felt more exposed in my life. Now I was thousands of miles from home, on my own, I couldn’t afford for people like him to see this weakness in me.
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned forwards, resting my elbows on the table. After a couple of minutes, he finished his food, nodded in my direction, and disappeared into the house.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I came here for a holiday, a chance to relax. Over my dead body would some attitude ridden man ruin that.
