Chapter Six
Hailey
Same Afternoon
I’d started to think maybe the guys were inside having drinks and conversation and had forgotten all about me when the front door opened and they came striding out, socking me in the stomach for the second time with how good-looking they were, especially Cash, the dark, silent one with his smoldering green eyes. I wondered how awkward it would make things if I started calling him Clint. Probably pretty awkward. But I couldn’t help the crush I still had on the man from all the westerns my dad watched while I was growing up.
Cash seemed less confused now, but still not happy with my being here, which I didn’t understand. Why rent a room out and then not welcome the person when she showed up? But Eric was smiling enough for the both of them, and just seeing his open, handsome face was enough to ease my mind. This trip was going to be great. I had a good location and strapping men to use as future characters in a book that I’d do my damnedest to make sure was a bestseller. What more could I ask for?
“We’ll help you with your bags, won’t we, Cash?” Eric said, shooting a look over his shoulder at his taciturn buddy. Cash dipped his head into a nod but didn’t answer.
I unlocked the trunk of the rental car, which was crammed full of my stuff. I’d done plenty of research about the area but wasn’t sure exactly what to pack, so I’d brought just about every outfit I owned. I had to pay for the extra checked bags.
Eric and Cash hoisted the three full suitcases and one carry-on out of the car.
“Damn, girl,” Eric remarked, grinning, which seemed to be his way. “You got the kitchen sink in here too?”
I laughed nervously, fiddling with my glasses the way I did whenever I was uncomfortable. “I wasn’t sure what to bring. So I packed just about everything.”
“I believe it!” he replied.
They lugged my bags inside, not even letting me help by carrying the small bag of personal items I’d brought with me onto the plane. Eric even tried to take my purse, but I insisted on carrying at least that. As salty as Cash seemed, he also appeared to be a gentleman, as he held open the door to let me go in first despite carrying one of my heavy bags in each hand. They deposited them just inside an austere room with a bed, night table, tidy desk with a chair, small dresser, and not much else. No art on the walls, no area rug to warm up the space—not that it mattered. As soon as I unpacked, my stuff would explode into every corner. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t keep my crap from expanding on its own.
“Well, I need to head back to town,” Eric announced after he dropped my bags into the guest room where I’d be staying for the next three to five months. He must’ve seen the panic in my eyes, because he smiled warmly, his dark eyes widening as he lifted his sandy eyebrows. “But I’m leaving you in capable hands. Cash here knows just about everything about the land surrounding this ranch. He could tell you stories for days.”
Cash grunted something indecipherable but didn’t meet my eyes when I turned to look at him.
Eric shook my hand again, enfolding my hand in both of his.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked, hopefully. He was clearly the friendlier one of the two, and despite Cash fulfilling my childhood dream of hanging out with a young Clint Eastwood, I’d rather Eric show me around the ranch, regale me with local lore, and teach me to ride a horse.
But Eric only shook his head as we walked back out the front door. “Cash and me have been buddies since back before we could read, and I do help him out around here whenever I can, especially if it involves technology.” He gave me that winning grin that lit up his face and sparkled in his eyes. I felt like I could swoon right into his arms if he opened them. Talk about western charm. “But I don’t work here. I got my own job in town. I probably won’t be back this way for the next couple days.”
My heart sank nearly to the floor. That was a long time to be in hostile territory, which was how I was starting to think of Ogden Ranch.
“Well, I appreciate you helping me find this great opportunity,” I said, trying not to sound as bummed as I felt. He nodded, dark eyes shining, and then turned to bid goodbye to Cash, who only mumbled a response. I watched him turn away from us and walk out the door, closing it behind him and leaving me alone with my cool and distant new landlord.
“I s’ppose I should show you around,” he said, not sounding particularly happy about it.
“That would be great,” I replied in my most conciliatory tone. “Thanks.” I had to live with this man, didn’t I? And you caught more flies with honey than you did with vinegar.
He swept an arm around the tidy living room. There was a couch and an armchair near the corner, but no television, I noticed glumly. What exactly did he do for fun? Did he have fun? I really couldn’t see him having a good time with anything. He seemed way too serious for that if smiling was a problem. Eric, on the other hand…
“This is the living room, as you can see,” he explained and then walked off without another word. I had to jog after him to keep up. We walked into a smallish kitchen with a two-seater table in the middle of the room and spotless cabinets and appliances surrounding it, so clean it was off-putting. Like the rest of the house, it wasn’t simply tidy. It looked like someone spent hours every day scrubbing walls, floors, and ceilings. Not one thing was out of place. Man, had I come to the wrong ranch. I was a tornado in heels.
“This is the kitchen. See that you leave it the way you found it after you fix your meals.”
I couldn’t help the surprise from creeping over my face, which he obviously noticed, as his jaw hardened.
“We won’t be sharing meals or nothing like that. I got a schedule to keep. You can use the kitchen as much as you like, but you’ll need to buy your own groceries in town and do your own cooking. This ain’t no dude ranch, as I’m sure Eric told you. All you’re doing is renting a room, not paying for an experience or whatever they do at those tourist traps.”
“I don’t see a problem with that,” I said. I’d brought a few instant meals along with me, not knowing what to expect when I got here—ramen noodles, boxes of pasta, and small cans of tomato sauce. I had more than enough to hold me over until I could get to the store.
“You’ll need to clean up after yourself, too. I don’t want a mess left sitting around. I have things arranged the way I like them.” He clenched his jaw again, and I could see he wanted to say more but was measuring his words. I’d never been much for cleaning up after myself—even when I tried, I only made a bigger mess—but I didn’t want him to know that. And, besides, maybe the fresh Wyoming air would help me change my ways for the next three to five months. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at the idea.
“I’ll make sure to leave nary a footprint,” I said, trying a joke that fell completely flat. He didn’t even appear to understand what I’d just said. His dark eyebrows knitted together as he scrutinized me with those emerald eyes, the look in them giving me a chill.
“You remind me of Eric,” he said plainly, and his tone indicated this wasn’t a compliment.
We left the kitchen and hovered just outside the entrance. He pointed across the living room to a closed door. “That’s my bedroom, which is off limits.” He raked me with a serious gaze, and I nodded.
I opened my mouth to ask if that was his Fifty Shades room, but thought better of it. I doubted he’d even know what I was talking about, but if he did, it was a guarantee he wouldn’t find it funny.
“I got two bathrooms here, one off my bedroom and one next to the guest room on the other end of the house. My bathroom is off limits.”
I’d guessed as much since I’d need to go through his bedroom to get to it, which he’d just said was off limits, but I didn’t see the need to get snippy. The faster I could look around outside, the better. I wanted to continue letting that inspiration unravel inside me. There was so much beauty here, so much raw material that I could mold into a riveting story. I even had some character sketches to get started on after meeting Eric, Cash, and one or two of the people I’d talked to in the airport.
Cash removed his cowboy hat to wipe at his forehead with a red handkerchief he had stuffed into his back pocket, giving me the first view of his hair since I’d arrived. It was pushed back and flattened from being kept in a sweaty hat all day, but I could see it was shaggy and light brown. He kept it trim around the sides and back, just like Eric. Without the hat, it was even easier to appreciate how ruggedly handsome he was, like he’d just stepped out of one of those old westerns. And the sprinkle of light freckles running over the bridge of his nose gave him a boyish look that softened the hard manliness of his broad shoulders and long, powerful limbs.
He led me past the guest room and bathroom, opening the last door to a wonderful library, with floor to ceiling bookcases on every wall, each one filled to bursting with books on every subject. Mostly nonfiction, but I saw some fiction books too, all of them westerns. I’d read a great deal of those growing up as well since Dad was such a fan. The nonfiction books ranged in subject from philosophy to history. I turned a full circle to get my fill of this gorgeous room, jealous that he had this beautiful hideaway tucked back here to himself. There was a rich area rug on the floor that was springy under my step, a comfortable-looking armchair positioned in one corner with a matching ottoman, and a large picture window in the middle of one wall, flanked by bookcases. All this place was missing was a fireplace for curling up in front of during the cold months. There’d been one out in the sparse living room, though.
“This is incredible,” I said, smiling at him.
He didn’t return the smile, but his face had softened, his eyes not as cold as they’d been on the rest of the tour. “This is my library room.” There was pride in his voice now, and I had to throw out my initial assessment of him. There was more to him than just roping and riding. This room proved that.
“You can come in here whenever you like,” he said. “There are books on local history you might like since you’re here to research. Help yourself to anything you see.” He watched me for a moment, his eyes unreadable. “But if you dog-ear any of my pages, I won’t hesitate to throw you out of this house.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so decided to just play it safe and never dog-ear a single page. I considered books sacred too, though I read mostly digital books these days. “I wouldn’t dare turn over the corner of a page,” I said solemnly, hoping to draw a smile from him, but he only pressed his lips together. I took another good, long look at him. Despite the grumpiness, he was damned good-looking up close. Between that and this library, what more could a girl ask for?