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“Right. Sorry to misread that.” She didn’t mention the other incident in her life that made her wary of men with power over her financial future. Her creep of a former boss wasn’t worth bringing up.
The silence stretched for a moment while the katydids clicked and called in the nearby bushes. The sound was peaceful, making her realize the goats must be content now, too. All was quiet in their pen.
“You said there were two things?” Drake prompted a moment later. He slid the hurricane lamp closer to them on the picnic table, casting his features in a sudden golden glow.
All at once, a vivid memory slammed into her brain from the days when they’d attended some of the same rodeos. They’d been in Evergreen, Colorado, and Fleur had been excited about her chances in the princess pageant for the younger age group, plus both her mother and Lark had been able to attend with her. Having her oldest sister nearby had made the whole event less stressful, since Fleur could focus on her performance, her riding and her presentation instead of the inevitable logistics of food, lodging and transportation to the various events. She’d been particularly happy after doing well in the horsemanship competition, and Lark had taken her to sit in the stands near some people she knew from Catamount—including Drake.
Lark was Drake’s age, seven years older than Fleur. That had seemed a lifetime apart when she’d been fifteen. But Drake had praised Fleur’s riding that night, and for one evening at least, hadn’t seemed judgmental. She’d even been a little starry-eyed that he’d paid attention to her at all.
Until one of Lark’s friends breezed into the group, draping herself across Drake’s lap like she owned real estate there. The raven-haired woman had kissed him full on the mouth before stage-whispering to Lark that she was ready to take Drake back to her hotel so she could get therealrodeo started. Drake had chastised the bold brunette, his eyes flicking to Fleur, making her aware it washerfault that he had to rein in his girlfriend.
A shiver pulsed up her spine now at the memory that had no business flashing across her thoughts now.
“Fleur?” Drake’s straight, dark eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She nodded jerkily, wishing she could shove aside the vision of Drake giving some random woman the ride of her life. “Um. I’ve heard you’re a bit of an expert on the local conservation efforts.”
Her voice sounded funny. Too high and thin.
As if she’d been having inappropriate thoughts of the man she would prefer to hate.
“It would be a stretch to say I’m an expert, but I’ve certainly invested in measures to preserve the natural ecosystem wherever possible. Good land management benefits the cattle, the land, native species—the list goes on. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I have reason to believe that—”
His shin grazed her calf as he stretched his legs.
“Sorry,” he said automatically, gaze snapping to hers.
The momentary touch was like connecting an electrical circuit, the heat of his body apparent right through the fabric of his pants.
Her breathing quickened, the rapid intake of breath sounding loud in her ears when the only other sound was the katydid concert.
“I’m worried Crooked Elm is in violation of some environmental initiatives.” She grabbed on to the conversation like a lifeline, confident there was nothing remotely sexy in the topic. “Jessamyn told me my father has been receiving mail from an agency that threatened citations on a few counts, but from what I could gather, they’re most concerned about the creek.”
She’d reviewed the letter Jessamyn had forwarded, but there were references to other regulatory documents she hadn’t unearthed yet.
Drake nodded. “Antonia’s tenant lets his cattle range too close to the water. The damage he’s doing is going to take years to fix.”
“You think that’s it?” The problem seemed simple to fix if she spoke to Josiah Cranston. Then again, the surly rancher might not be amenable to changing his practices now.
What she needed to do was give him notice of the lease termination.
A cold breeze kicked up from the east, blowing her hair along her shoulders. She tucked a strand behind one ear to keep it out of her line of vision.
“There could be other problems, but I’m guessing that’s the biggest area of concern. You should follow the creek next time you visit Emma and see how different the vegetation along it looks on your land compared to mine.”
Frowning, she realized she would have bristled at words like that a few days ago. But she’d reached a new accord with Drake.
Even, she realized, a new trust. Because no matter their differences in the past, she believed in his passionate commitment to the land. He wouldn’t steer her wrong about that.
When another breeze stirred even stronger this time, the ends of her hair floated dangerously close to the open top of the hurricane lamp. Drake darted forward, capturing the strands with one hand and pushing away the lamp with the other.
“Storm’s coming,” he announced, his voice gravelly as he kept her hair in his fist for a moment longer than necessary.
Then two.
Heat thrummed through her, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She couldn’t feel his touch, yet the thought of him tugging her head back with that hold on her hair turned her knees to liquid. Did something flicker in his dark gaze, or was that just the reflected candlelight?
