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“How do I look when I smile?” I ask, my mind moving to her earlier statement.
“Hmm.” She laughs. “Less surly.”
Then, with a soft sigh, Ruby uncurls from my side. I resist the urge to pull her back to me and keep her close.
As she sits up, I pay close attention. She seems fine, thank God.
“Thanks for the use of your shoulder,” she says, smoothing the hem of her dress.
“Anytime. Here.” Adjusting myself, I pull the bracelet out of my back pocket. “I found this in the pen.”
She gasps and stares at the bracelet, looking like I’ve rescued her favorite puppy from the pound. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize it was gone.” She takes it from me and slips it on her delicate wrist. “It was my mother’s.”
Was.
Here and now, I decide I want the story behind the bracelet. The story behind Ruby Bloom. It means nothing—it can’t—but if we’re working together for the next three months, I might as well make the best of it.
“Stay,” I tell her.
Her shoulders slump. “Charlie ...”
“I won’t yell.”
“I don’t know.” Her pretty brow furrows. “I’m good at my job, but to do it right, I have to see how the ranch runs. I can’t do that if you won’t let me.”
Her stern words put me in my place, and I nod. “I understand. You’re right. I’ll let you do your job.” I stare down at her. “I don’t want you to go, Ruby.”
When I say the words, I realize I mean them. I want to keep this sweet, happy girl on my ranch. Close to me.
Some of the wariness leaves her expression. “And you’ll answer my questions?”
“I’ll answer your questions. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the ranch. The right way.”
I offer a handshake and when she slips her small hand into mine, an electric sizzle races through my veins. This girl’s a drug and she doesn’t even know it.
Charlie and I get started at the crack of dawn. We have breakfast in the lodge, a delicious cowboy feast of eggs, skillet potatoes, and biscuits and gravy. I’m so full I can barely walk. Charlie spends the next three hours introducing me to his staff. I meet Tina, the guest services manager, Silas, the executive chef, and various ranch hands. I make plans with all of them to sit down one-on-one and get their story later this summer.
I follow Charlie around the ranch, trying not to bombard him with questions while keeping a respectful distance. When I do ask questions, he answers me dutifully like he’s trying to atone for yesterday’s blow-up.
I take notes and log everything I learn away for future reference. The game plan in my mind is simple ...
Flip the story.
Embrace the bad press.
Come get yelled at by cowboys.
Very, very, sexy cowboys.
The sun is high in the sky by the time Charlie and I get started on the hike up Meadow Mountain. He’s promised me the best view around, one that captures the essence of Runaway Ranch.
“It’s two miles up, two miles down.” He spears me with a look. “Can you do it?”
I can.
As long as we don’t go fast, and I’m on my medication, I can exercise. Yesterday’s slip was because of adrenaline and stress. A calm hike up a beautiful mountain—I’ll be fine.
He’s staring at me, still waiting for an answer, but that typical look of annoyance he’s worn since I met him isn’t there. In its place is patience.
