Lost & Found

“Jesse Walker,” I said, coming up beside him, “are you asking me to the prom?” I clasped my hands together and batted my lashes.

“From the way my palms are sweating,” Jesse wiped his hands off on his jeans, “you’d think I am.”

“Well, I’d love to go with you, but I’ve already got a date.”

His expression fell. “You do?”

“Yeah. Your ex-girlfriend,” I said, nudging him.

Relief flashed over his face before it was promptly replaced with concern.

“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll save you a dance. Or two.” I wondered if I’d just pulled a line from a classic movie or if people really said that kind of stuff. I didn’t know. I’d never been to a dance. The closest I’d ever made it to one was the parking lot of my high school. After that not-so-pleasurable experience, I wrote off all future dances. I didn’t want to go to all the trouble of getting dressed up when the only dance my date wanted was in the back seat of his car.

“Or three,” Jesse added. “Or all of them.”

“Greedy,” I muttered to Sunny who continued to drink from the stream so deeply you’d think he was trying to drain it.

“Not greedy, just hopelessly optimistic.”

“You know the definition of ‘hopelessly,’ right?” I lifted an eyebrow.

Jesse smiled into the stream and scratched the back of his head. “Well, then how ‘bout this? We have shared a bed now, like you said. I think that kind of exclusivity goes with dance partners as well.”

“Is it a waste of breath if I keep arguing with you?”

“Probably.”

I shouldered him. “We’d better get back,” I said, “before they miss us and the rumors start flying.”

Jesse chuckled. “The rumors were flying the moment you and I were out of earshot.” He grabbed my waist, and before the air had whooshed from my mouth, I was perched back on top of Sunny.

“Okay, Muscles,” I said, grabbing hold of the saddle horn, “next time you decide to toss me on top of a giant beast, could you give me a moment’s warning first?”

Just as quickly, Jesse’s body slid into position behind me. He could literally mount and dismount a horse in the blink of an eye. He really was a cowboy.

“Moment’s warning before putting you on top of a giant beast?” he repeated, bobbing his head beside mine. “Okay. Done.” When his arms came around me to grab hold of the reins, I realized I’d been wrong. Riding behind Jesse wasn’t as good as it got. Riding in front of him was. I was cocooned in his hold. Protected. Safe.

It didn’t hurt that his legs were basically wrapped around me either.

“I’d loved to stay out here all day and talk, or bicker, or . . .” the inflection in his voice filled in the blanks, “but I’ve still got another eight hours of work in front of me today.”

I threw a longing look at the sandy bank beside the stream. The bittersweet taste of what the day could have been . . .

“Yeah. And I’ve got about eight hours of egg collecting, porch sweeping, laundry washing, and meatloaf making in front of me.”

Jesse made some clicking sound with his mouth, squeezed his legs, and we were off. Sunny seemed to only have two speeds: fast and holy-shit-fast. “Mom’s keeping you busy?” Jesse had to holler a bit given the wind cutting over us from Sunny’s take-no-prisoners sprint.

“A squirrel in the fall is busy. I’m something else entirely,” I yelled back.

“Ranch life’s not exactly what you anticipated?” Jesse’s mouth moved just outside my ear. I knew he’d likely done it so we didn’t have to keep screaming back and forth, but like so many random exchanges between Jesse and me that were innocent on the surface, it felt oddly intimate. So intimate, my eyelids dropped and my mouth parted for a brief moment.

Then I realized Jesse was waiting for my response, and when I opened my eyes, he was watching me with a bit of amusement. That I didn’t flush fire-engine red or become a stuttering idiot was a testament to how much practice I’d had overcoming those kinds of awkward situations. The embarrassment on my end part, not the smokin’ hot cowboy staring at me with a melt-your-panties-right-off smile.

“No, it’s not what I expected,” I answered, twisting my head so I could return the mouth-just-outside-the-ear favor. “It’s better.”

I couldn’t see Jesse’s expression from the way my head was turned, but I felt it without having to see it. I felt it in the way his arms tightened around me. I felt it in the way the side of his face pressed into the side of mine. I felt it in the physical, but I felt it in the something else, too. In the something deeper that was just below the surface. It was staggering. It was purposeful.

It was a first.

Yet another of the many I’d experienced with Jesse. And the guy’s hands and mouth hadn’t even wandered into the PG-13 territory yet. That was saying something.

A whole bunch of something.

When Sunny tore up over a gentle hill, the tree, Old Bessie, and the rest of the guys and their horses came into view. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be back to reality, but my emotions were more focused on those precious few minutes we’d escaped reality. I’d never been the glass-half-full girl, but I seemed in danger of becoming one.

Jesse pulled up on the reins when we were a couple hundred yards back, and Sunny slowed to a walk. Of course, it was a fast walk.

Neil stood in the bed of Old Bessie, closing the cooler back up, and gave us a wave when he saw us coming. No one else seemed all that interested in the two of us. Or else, like Jesse said about the whole rumors firing off the moment we left, they were just feigning disinterest.

Oh, well. Neil didn’t seem to care that his son and I had ridden off into the lunchtime sunset, showed up fifteen minutes later with silly smiles on our faces, and Jesse’s arms were cinched around me in such a way that wasn’t necessary to keep me steady in the saddle.

“Why is it you don’t look like a single person in your family?” I said lightly, taking in Neil. Other than the way they dressed, Jesse and he couldn’t have looked more different. “Surely there’s got to be a reason.”

I waited for him to reply with something that had to do with consuming mass quantities of Wheaties or DNA took a day off when Jesse was conceived, but he shrugged. “There’s a reason for everything, Rowen.”

A person wouldn’t have to be especially perceptive to catch the whole flood of meaning beneath Jesse’s words. “Why, thank you, Aristotle,” I teased. “And now I’ve seen it all. A cowboy philosopher.”

His soft laugh vibrated against my back. “I’m much deeper than I look. I’m not the dumb hick you’d think I’d be.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Jesse, I could tell after two words with you that you were not a dumb hick. Not in this life or any of your former or future lives.”

“That is the sweetest, most strange compliment I’ve ever been given.” He pulled up on the reins one more time, and Sunny came to a stop. We were back with the others, and I could tell from the sideways looks everyone threw our way that Jesse had been right. He and I just “slipping” away unnoticed had been a whole lot of wishful thinking. Then again, when their employer’s son started paying attention to the new girl with a questionable past, I suppose rumors were an expected side effect.

“Jesse,” Neil called over, “I need you to head out with Walt and Justin as soon as you get Rowen back on solid ground.” Neil gave us both an amused smile. “A few of the cows have already crossed the river and the calves didn’t feel so brave. They’re making one heck of a raucous and are going to worry themselves into a fit if they don’t get to their mamas soon.” Neil’s smile grew. “I hope you and Sunny weren’t planning on staying dry today.”

“I learned not to hope to stay wet, dry, hot, or cold a long time ago, Dad,” Jesse replied. “I’m on it.”

Neil nodded in acknowledgement before leaping out of the truck bed and heading over to his horse.

“You’re going to swim the babies over to their moms?” I asked, trying to picture it. I couldn’t.

“Well, Sunny’s going to swim. I’m going to just throw the calf over my lap, hold on real tight, and hope the current doesn’t whisk us away.”

My face blanched. Now that, Jesse, Sunny, and some poor baby calf being tossed and rolled under the waves of a raging river, I could imagine.

“I’m just messing with you, Rowen,” he said, pinching my side. “The river’s deep, but the current’s nice and slow. So slow it shouldn’t even be called a river. I’ve done it hundreds of times. It’s a piece of cake. There’re a few calves every season that need a little help crossing.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling a little better. But only a little. It still sounded dangerous.

“I’ve got baby calves to save. So I’d better be on my way.” His mouth came dangerously close to my ear again. “As much as I’d rather stay.” He pulled back into the safe range when he spoke next. “Just swing your leg over Sunny’s neck, and I’ll make sure you land upright and not on your backside.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” I said. I swung my left leg over Sunny’s neck—thank goodness it was down since he was munching on some grass—and, sure enough, found myself landing on the ground on my feet a moment later. “You’re good,” I said, turning around.

From the gloat on his face, I guessed he already knew that. “I know my way around a horse.”

I looked around before replying. “And me?”

The gloat was gone, but his smile became more pronounced. “I’m learning.” Tilting his hat at me, he made that clicking sound again and turned Sunny around.

“Be safe,” I called after him. “And don’t forget to strap on a life jacket or something.”

Even from where he was, I heard his laugh. “Hey, Rowen?” he called back. “Why did the calf cross the river?”

Really? What was next? Knock-knock jokes?

“To get away from you!” I yelled. That earned me a few curious stares. Well, a few more.

Another laugh. That one was accompanied by a shake of his head as he and Sunny broke into a trot.

“What? Because you threw it on your saddle and swam it over? Because of Jesse Walker?” I yelled after him.

Both rider and horse came to a stop. Jesse reined Sunny around. Even from that distance, I saw the flash of intention in Jesse’s eyes. It made my stomach drop. “Nope,” he replied. “The calf crossed the river because that scared little thing wanted to.” Jesse met my stare for another second before whipping around and charging up to the couple of riders ahead of him.

Even after he’d disappeared from view, I stared at the space where he’d been.

Jesse Walker was telling me something I wasn’t so sure I was ready to hear.