Page 4 of A Cowboy's Trust
Jake stood there and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
A hand landed on his shoulder. A second later, Aiden hauled him in for a brotherly back pounding. “Happy New Year, bro. Petra and I are headed back to the ranch. Don’t call us in the morning.”
He said it quietly enough Petra didn’t overhear. Instead, she offered Jake a hug and a big smile. “Good things coming this year for us all,” she promised before patting his cheek then slipping to Aiden’s side.
She curled her arm around his and they wove their way through the crowd.
“I’m headed out as well.” Declan stood beside Jake. His oldest brother laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. “Happy New Year. The house will be quiet tonight. Enjoy it while you can.”
Declan was gone before Jake could demand to know what that meant.
Instead, he stood there in the noise and chaos of the partiers and wondered why he’d gotten two cheek pats in the past two minutes. As if he was a dog or something.
He’d been ready to head back to High Water himself, but suddenly the empty ranch house and his unfinished room under the art studio was the last place he wanted to be. He lifted a hand to a passing waitress, motioned for another beer, then stood aside as the crowd resumed dancing and flirting and trying to find a partner to take home. Oh yeah, there were plenty of pickups in progress…
The mental image of Tansy staring at him, breathless from his kiss, popped to mind in far too vivid detail. Did he really have to have noticed the way the left side of her mouth quirked up slightly more than the right? Or that her eyes weren’t simply light brown, but the faintest hint of gold circled the iris? And her hair. A golden blonde that was soft against his fingertips when he’d cupped the back of her neck and kissed those tempting lips, the taste of her?—
“Fuck.”
He nursed the beer after it arrived before heading home to toss and turn restlessly for hours.
Which meant the next morning, far later than usual, he stared at the coffee maker and willed it to spit out liquid faster. He felt like shit and still had no idea what had come over him the night before.
Kissing Tansy was not part of any plan. Dirty daydreams, yes, but getting involved with anyone was not on his agenda until High Water was up and running.
He lifted his chin sharply, regretting it instantly. Slow moves were a far better idea. As the coffee trickled into the pot, Jake pulled his focus to the real task at hand.
High Water was ready to kick into gear and start the next stage, which meant he had to get his act together and be ready.
Jake deliberately turned and admired the room and the view out the window, taking in the details of High Water that had already become as familiar as any previous home.
High Water. A place he and his brothers—and now Aiden’s fiancée, Petra—were building into the ultimatepay it forwardlocation.
The ranch had been a working animal rescue, and would be again. They’d spent the past five months building a retreat house where weekend and weeklong escapes for artists would be held. The retreats would provide income for the ranch to supplement their other sources.
More importantly, running these operations would require work. Cleaning, animal care—all of which provided the real reason for the ranch. A place of short-term employment with no questions asked for people who needed a temporary place of refuge. Women getting away from bad situations. Men trying to escape a life they no longer wanted to be involved in.
Yup, it was really about to happen. Which meant his gut rumbled with unease, his entire system out of kilter since nothing was plannable beyond being ready to open their doors.
He didn’t like it when things weren’t plannable.
Regretting his New Year’s Eve choices more than a little, he stood by the coffee maker and drank an entire cup before refilling and easing his way to the table.
Ten o’clock, and no one else had appeared in the house yet. He figured Aiden and Petra had a good reason to be MIA. Declan was up, but in the barn. Their first High Water arrival, sixteen-year-old Jinx Tremont, no longer considered a short-term ranch hand but part of the family, was sleeping over at the neighbouring ranch with her best friend, Sasha Stone.
Well, to hell with it. It was time to set some goals. That’s what people did on New Year’s Day, right?
He nabbed his notebook, automatically realigned the envelopes that had slid slightly outside of the hard cover, and turned to a fresh, clean page. He wrote GOALS at the top and a set of numbers to the side, one all the way to ten. He stared at the page for a moment then in the first spot wrote down, crisp and clear…
Learn to be more spontaneous.
What the fuck?
He all but glared at the journal.Thatwas not what he wanted to write. That wasn’t what he’d been thinking about at all, and he pressed his hands to his temples, begging for the pounding to die down.
Tansy’s fault. It was the word she’d used the night before, and it had bounced in his head most of the night.
He examined the notebook page with disgust. Everyone had their quirks, and he was honest enough to admit this was one of his. Either he crossed it out and left a visible mark of his mistake, or he ripped out the page, neither of which solutions sat well.
