Chapter Five
Midday sun warming the top of her head, Larissa had to admit that driving the ATV with purple metallic paint around the ranch was a blast. Two days after Matt had driven her back to the log home the first night she spent on the ranch, she was on her way to see him again. He’d given her space, staying at his own place the day before when she’d gone dress shopping with Callie.
But today, as out-of-town company was beginning to arrive at both homes—Matt’s and his mother’s—Larissa had agreed to give him a hand with preparations. The thought of seeing him again gave her butterflies in her stomach, the nerves worse than opening-night jitters, so she was glad for the distraction of the ride through the fields.
And driving herself over in the ATV had been a fun idea. She’d had a doll once that came with her own bright pink car and her name painted on one side, and Larissa had always thought it would be fun to live the doll’s exciting life with all the girly accessories. Now, with the wind whipping through her hair as she splashed through a shallow stream at the far edge of Briggs Ranch, Larissa savored a great big confirmation of that early instinct. Life was more fun in the seat of a sporty, open-top all-terrain vehicle with a custom paint job.
“Larissa? Where on earth are you?” The disembodied voice of her friend Rachel blared through the Bluetooth speakers, that she had—amazingly—made to work with her phone. “There’s a lot of background noise.”
Callie’s ATV was tricked out with a stereo system that found Larissa’s phone wirelessly. Who knew ranch life had gone so high tech?
“I’m on my way to Matt’s place,” she admitted, raising her voice to be heard over the rumble of the engine and the rush of ever-present wind. She steered onto a trail marked by a pile of stones with the top ones painted white. Apparently, Matt had forged the trail himself to help shared ranch hands find their way between the two properties easily. “I’m bringing over some flowers that his grandmother wanted to transplant.”
Possibly, Hattie had made up the chore to put Larissa in Matt’s path, but after not seeing him for two days, she was ready to face him. Or rather, she was as ready as she was ever going to be. She sure wasn’t going to make peace with her past by hiding.
“Is it just me, or is planting things super symbolic of fresh starts and new beginnings?” Rachel asked. She lived in a building a few blocks down from Larissa’s Brooklyn studio. They’d both worked in Lower Manhattan and ended up on the same train most days. She’d been there at the tapas place the night they made the pact about making peace with the past.
“Maybe it is.” Larissa glanced down at the flat full of marigolds on the seat beside her. The scent of six more flats on the cargo bed drifted on the breeze. “Although I have to say I pictured this journey being more about endings than beginnings.”
Matt might have joked about “closure” on their relationship, but his comment hadn’t been far off the mark.
“Then maybe it’s a sign you’ve closed the door on the past if you’re opening all new doors.”
“Or else it’s a sign I’m stuck standing on a threshold and don’t know where to turn.” That sounded decidedly less positive, but she couldn’t ignore the whisper of concern. “Seriously. What if I’m going backward?”
The vehicle thumped over a low spot, the body rocking hard on the suspension system. The views were incredible though. An elk lifted its heavy head of antlers to peer at her curiously from less than twenty yards away. Tiny cinquefoil flowers clung to rocks near the stream now running parallel to the trail. High above her, a military plane from the local Air Force base left a contrail streaking through the sky.
“Are you kidding me? You’re trying new things. That’s progress.” Despite the encouraging words, Rachel sounded harried and a little breathless on the other end. She’d worked hard to cultivate a following as an independent fashion designer, but the business was ridiculously competitive.
Rachel felt as stuck in Manhattan as Larissa had for years—unable to work anywhere else because the biggest opportunities were there. But on the night they’d made their pact, she’d had an old wrong to set right as well. She’d been cagey about her past, never saying much about her life before she’d arrived in New York.
“I hope so.” Larissa took a left at another stone marker, the flowers sliding along the seat so she had to hold on to them. “It’s strange being involved with a wedding here though.” The realization had hit home the day before when she’d been dress shopping with Callie. “Especially since I once let myself imagine a future here. It’s like that Christmas movie where the guy sees the way his life might have turned out if he’d made different choices, you know? I keep seeing what might have been. Really weird.”
“And?” Rachel prodded, her voice suddenly quieter over the speakers. In the background of the call, Larissa could hear the sounds of the city—horns honking and brakes squeaking. Muted conversations. “How do you like it?”
Accelerating through another field near a cow pasture, she startled a few birds off the four-rail fence that kept the animals contained.
“I miss Wyoming more than I realized.” She’d watched a spectacular sunset the night before, remembering how many times she’d done that same thing while she lived there.
“What about Matt?” Rachel prodded.
Larissa rounded a corner and drove under a wooden sign spanning two trees that spelled out “Split Fork” in rough bark letters. The ranch house came into view at the same time—an impressive lodge-style home with three stone chimneys. Pine trees framed either side of the windows spanning both stories in the center of the home, suggesting soaring ceilings and lots of light to take in the enviable view of the mountains. A horseshoe-shaped driveway led her straight toward the front door near where Matt used a hoe on an empty flower bed.
He wore no shirt.
“Matt?” Larissa’s throat went dry to see him half-dressed. Even from fifty yards away he was a sight to see. “He’s…um…fine. Very fine.”
His jeans rode low on his hips as he worked, a light sheen of sweat on his back as he paused the hoeing to lift a massive rock out of the bed.
Rachel’s laughter floated through the speaker as Larissa parked the ATV. “Well you go enjoy him while you can, honey. Call with updates. It’s been too long since a very fine man distracted me.”
Larissa hurried to turn the volume down on the speakers, not wanting the cowboy in question to overhear this conversation. “Will do,” she assured her before switching off the vehicle and shoving her phone in her bag.
Matt straightened from his work, watching her as she stepped out of the ATV. She felt rattled already and they hadn’t even spoken yet. Had he thought about that conversation in his truck the other night as much as she had? He’d made it clear he was game for a “do-over” as he called it. One week to enjoy the sparks between them and just have fun.
Did he have any idea how tempting that sounded?
“Gorgeous place you have here.” She peered up at his house in an effort not to stare at his bare chest. Abs. Obliques, for heaven’s sake. Who knew an oblique could be so damn mouthwatering?
“It’s more house than I need, but the house came with the ranch.” He reached for his shirt, a motion she observed since she’d forgotten to stare at the house and not him.
But her ability to focus would surely improve now. And yikes, he looked good shrugging his way into that gray tee.
His face cleared the neck hole of the shirt and, damn, he caught her staring. She forgot what they’d been talking about and couldn’t form a word to save her soul.
“So. Do you want to see it?” He peeled off his gloves and tossed them on a rock.
She blinked fast.
“See…what?” Her gaze darted around his now-covered body, remembering in vivid detail what he looked like while shirtless.
He stepped closer and awareness shimmered through her. Maybe she was crazy to think she could ignore the draw of Matt Briggs for a whole week.
“I’ll show you whatever you like, Rissa.” His voice went low and sexy, thrumming along her skin like a warm caress. “But I meant the house. Do you want me to take you on the tour?”
Her brain had traveled so far down another path that it took superhuman effort to corral her attention back to where it ought to be. To his house, for crying out loud.
“Um. Sure.” She rocked back on her heels, needing the extra half inch of breathing room to collect herself. “This place looks new.”
He turned to head up a low step onto the stone landing in front of the oversized entrance, in keeping with the large scale of the house.
“The original owner was some kind of tech genius who worked in Silicon Valley. He had it built as a hobby ranch and a fishing camp to use on the weekends, but after a few years, he decided he didn’t spend enough time up here.” Matt opened the front door and held it for her. “I got a great deal on it, and my father sold me some of the land from Briggs Ranch that lay between the two properties so we’d have adjoining ranches.”
Stepping inside, Larissa could hear the change in Matt’s voice whenever he talked about his dad—the strained note was subtle, but she knew him well enough to hear it.
“He must have been so glad to have you next door.” She remembered how alike the two men had seemed with their similar builds and coloring, as well as their focused dedication to ranching.
“It makes a rancher’s job easier to be on good terms with his neighbor, that’s for sure.” He gestured to the room in front of them. “The house came furnished, so I didn’t have to do much with it.”
She turned her attention to the floor to ceiling windows that let in light from the front, brightening the living area despite the log walls halfway up the room. At about eight feet, the walls changed to plaster and were painted a sunny yellow. A massive stone fireplace dominated the space, with another split log that served as a mantel. All around her, the rough feel of a historic frontier home was softened with modern touches. The floor used creamy squares of tile with wood inlays in a repeating design. Heavy leather furnishings were interspersed with lighter chairs in durable fabrics. A chandelier made of antlers hung over a butcher block dining table.
“I would turn cartwheels over living in a place this beautiful.” She ran a hand along the back of a sofa table that used an old wooden egg crate repurposed into storage shelves. She hesitated.
“But?” He must have heard the halt in her speech.
“I’m surprised I don’t see more of you in here though.” She didn’t recognize any carry-over from his family home. No photos or mementos like in his dad’s office.
He shrugged as he toed off his boots and left them on the welcome mat. “Everything was done. I just brought my clothes over here once the sale was finalized.”
She nodded even though she didn’t quite understand. Even when she spent eight months in a shared Manhattan apartment before realizing she couldn’t afford it, she hung photos and artwork, things to remind her of home.
“Can I get you something to drink?” He waved her into the back of the house where he was already headed. “Some iced tea? Water?”
He held open the fridge door—a huge, high-end model that only a caterer could fill—but her gaze moved to the coffee bar built into the opposite wall.
“I see the light is still on the coffee pot,” she observed, already heading in that direction. “And I would have bought this house based on this feature alone.” She admired the stainless steel countertop and shelf of easily accessible mugs.
“Still nursing that addiction?” he asked, helping himself to the pitcher of water in the fridge.
“As long as the number of cups is in the single digits per day, I consider it well managed.” She’d never been in such a large kitchen with cupboard after cupboard lining two walls. There were open shelves of cups and cookbooks—all brand new—and a wire rack that was empty. Copper pots and pans hung from a wrought-iron rack above the island. “But since I’ve already had my morning dose, I’ll settle for a water.”
She’d already gotten overheated once today, thank you very much. Cold water was the way to go around this man.
“Done.” He grabbed a second glass from an overhead cabinet and filled it. “So did my grandmother twist your arm into the bogus flower-planting mission? Or was that my sister’s idea?”
“You think they’re trying to throw us together?” She’d thought the same thing, no matter what Hattie said about healing her relationship with the family.
“Definitely. I haven’t had flowers in three years and suddenly this is important?” He shut the refrigerator with his foot while he chugged a drink.
His throat moved in a long swallow, making her notice he also possessed neck muscles. What on earth was he doing on his ranch to keep him so taut and lean? Did he personally work the herd from horseback every day?
“Maybe they just want your house to look extra nice because of the wedding company,” she suggested.
“Don’t forget, my grandmother got married in blue jeans and a Stetson,” he reminded her. “I’m not sure she’s too wound up about tradition.”
“Callie is on board for all the customs, though.” She couldn’t help remembering how happy she’d looked out in the meadow holding up her wedding arch in front of a picture-perfect background. “She wants to do everything just right.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered before shaking his head and switching topics. “Come on out back. I’ll show you the house’s best feature.”
She followed his lead, smiling to herself when they reached the back door and there was a second pair of cowboy boots—as worn-in as the other pair—sitting on the welcome mat. He stepped into them before tugging open one of the French doors that led out to an expansive back deck. This one was all done in gray stone that matched the big indoor fireplace. In fact, another stone fireplace with a full-blown chimney was built into one side of the house with an outdoor living area around it. A full outdoor kitchen took another corner with doors close to the main kitchen. Some of the deck was covered with a deep overhang of the roof, and other parts were open to the sun. Built-in stone steps divided the space up into more cozy spaces. A tire swing hung from a nearby tree, a surefire leftover from the previous owner since Matt lived here alone.
“You weren’t kidding about this being the best feature.” She wanted to sink right into the huge couch across from the built-in fireplace. “How do you get any work done with all these great places to read and relax?” Setting down her glass, she couldn’t resist smoothing a hand over the dark outdoor fabric that looked soft and durable at the same time. A gray cat trotted over to wind around her legs.
“Actually, I was talking about the view.” He stood at the end of the deck, half turned away from her. He looked out over the pastures and grassy hills behind the house to a breathtaking view of Vedauwoo, the scenic range famous for its hoodoos and rocky outcroppings.
From this angle, the granite stones were surrounded by pine trees at the base, the miles of blue sky making the stark edges stand out sharply.
“So pretty.” She tilted her face into the wind, inhaling the scent of pine and fresh air.
“You should see it at sunset.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Every day is different.”
She peered at him sidelong for a moment, thinking how much he was like that mountain range. Strong. Immovable. A compelling sight for the eyes.
And just like Vedauwoo, Matt Briggs belonged here in a way she never had. Even now, with all this beauty in front of her and the reminders of all she’d liked about Wyoming, her feet itched to leave. Her mother told her once that if you weren’t moving, you were standing still.
And if for no other reason, Larissa would keep moving because of that reminder. Her mom had charged her to explore her talent and make the most of it. If her mom was here today, would she be disappointed with Larissa for standing still?
Or worse, moving backward?
Tearing her hungry gaze from Matt, she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Maybe if I get to work on the flowers now I’ll be done in time to see that sunset.”
*
Larissa didn’t end up sticking around for the sunset.
Not that Matt was surprised based on the way she’d bolted from the tour of his house. She’d worked like a fiend all afternoon, refusing his offers of help and insisting he take care of his own pre-wedding chores. He’d done as she asked, not wanting to crowd her, especially since he had his work cut out for him figuring out what to do with those improvements needed over at Briggs Ranch. Larissa had taken off while he’d been on a conference call about repairs to the irrigation system.
Two steps forward, one step back.
Matt knew the dance they were doing this week wasn’t all that different from the literal one that Larissa was teaching Callie for the wedding. Larissa got closer to him, then pulled back. It was the same dynamic that had been at work eight years ago, only back then, he didn’t understand how serious she was about achieving those dreams of dancing on Broadway.
Now, she wasn’t going to outmaneuver him. He’d learned a few moves of his own since then. Which was why, at seven o’clock, he found himself parking his truck in a spot in front of Rusty’s Saloon in downtown Cheyenne. Callie had texted him a heads-up that she’d coerced Larissa into a night out with her girlfriends, and Matt didn’t plan to waste the tip.
Tomorrow, he’d figure out a way to purchase the new breeding stock and fix the irrigation system while still paying for his sister’s wedding and the mortgage. For tonight, he’d worn his best boots to escort Larissa out onto the biggest dance floor in town. She might not have shared a sunset with him, but he’d be willing to bet she’d appreciate twirling around under a neon moon on his arm.