Crazy For Lovin' You

“Even for a Stevens,” she finished for him.

“You said it, I didn’t,” he answered with a shrug.

“Not that it matters, but she was a Stevens by marriage.” So much for water under the bridge and not holding a grudge. It would be best not to count on any help from him, she decided. “Mom needed the money for retirement in Dallas,” Taylor explained. “She couldn’t stay here and didn’t have the resources to get away. It was her only choice.”

“And you couldn’t let the land out of the family.” It wasn’t a question.

Vaguely she wondered how he’d known her so well. “I guess I’m like my dad in that way. It means something to me that there’s been a Stevens on this ranch as far back as anyone can remember. Roots that deep are hard to pull.”

“I’ve done pretty well without roots.” His mouth hardened into a tight, straight line.

“I’m not rubbing your nose in it, Mitch. I’m just explaining why I’m in charge now.”

“Okay. But why a dude ranch?”

“I’m excited about the prospect of having guests and showing them a way of life that I love. And—” She stopped, wondering if she dared expose even a hint of weakness. But she had little to lose in telling him. “I think I can make this place profitable.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

That was something she’d tried not to think about. All her energy had gone into positive planning. She kept telling herself failure was not an option. Now she was almost ready to open the chute and she was scared to the bone.

“Taylor?”

“If it doesn’t work, I could lose the ranch,” she said quietly. “Mom and Jen would help, but I want to do this on my own.”

“I’m guessing that by holding the championships here you’ll get publicity and word-of-mouth endorsements.”

“That’s right. If the right folks have a positive experience, the PR would be invaluable. Not to mention—”

She stopped. She was already lucky he hadn’t laughed her from here to Fort Worth. There was no way he would actually help her unless it served his needs at the same time.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said. She turned away and started back toward the house.

Mitch fell into step beside her. “Tell me.”

“First you tell me whether or not you’re going to give me the go-ahead to have the event here.”

They walked in silence for several moments. He stuck his fingertips in the pockets of his jeans. The memory came to her like a lightning bolt illuminating a pitch-black sky. He always frowned and stuck his hands into his pockets when he was deep in thought. Why did she have to remember that? She didn’t want to recall anything about him or what had happened in the past.

It was a cruel and twisted cosmic joke that she found herself and her future dependent on the man who had no love lost for her family, and every reason to stand back and watch her fall flat on her face. She wasn’t the one who had hurt him but she had a feeling that wouldn’t matter. She suspected Mitch didn’t have a lot of experience with forgiveness. But it had been ten years. Everyone changed. Even a mixed-up kid nicknamed Riffraff Rafferty.

“Mitch?”

He glanced at her. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. There’s still another site I have to check out.”

“At least tell me if you think the Circle S will work.”

“If you tell me what you were going to say.”

Were they destined to deal with each other by dangling carrots when they wanted information? Was that any way to run a rodeo? She wished she could tell him to just let her know when he made his decision. But she had too much riding on it to walk away now.

“I was going to say that an endorsement from a famous champion bull rider would go a long way toward getting the word out.” She raised one eyebrow. “That someone like you could inspire national attention—even from nonrodeo people.”

“Free publicity?” he asked, but there was a grin turning up the corners of his lips.

An answering smile made her own mouth twitch. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I didn’t major in ranch management at A&M for nothing. How can you go wrong with something free?”

They were approaching the pool and Jacuzzi she’d invested in. It made good sense that guests would want to relax and cool off after a hot dusty ride. Her goal was to lure customers with the ranch experience at the same time giving them all the comforts of home. Unfortunately the sight of the pool made her distinctly uncomfortable. Would it tickle his memory of that night ten years ago at the Lamplighter Motel?

If she’d been thinking, she would have parked on the other side of the house. But she hadn’t had a single coherent thought since opening the door to devil-may-care Mitch Rafferty. She just hoped there wasn’t hell to pay.

Please don’t let him notice the pool. Or if he does, give him temporary amnesia or selective memory loss.

As they got closer, she insinuated herself between him and the pool area. If only she were taller and could block his view. Not a chance of that. He could easily see over her head.

She pointed in the opposite direction. “Look at those clouds. Do you think we’re in for a storm?”

He turned to see what she meant, then glanced back down at her. “No. Those are just wispy, nothin’ clouds.”

As they continued walking, she held out her hand to show him something else. “I plan to plant flowers over there,” she said, hoping to distract him. Just a little bit farther and she would be home free. “To spruce up the place and give it color.”

He looked at her. “Okay.”

“And over there,” she said, directing his gaze to an empty spot beside the house. “I’m considering a vegetable garden.”

“In your copious free time?”

“Why not?”

“Since when did you become a farmer?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, be whatever I have to be to make this work. If I can help it, no one outside the family will get their hands on my land.”

“Your determination is commendable.” He stopped beside the pool and looked down into the crystal-clear water. When he met her gaze again, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “But even if I choose another site, your ideas are still sound. You shouldn’t have any trouble pulling in tourists.”

“Not fast enough.”

“What do you mean?” He asked the question but he glanced over his shoulder at the water. When he looked back, the expression in his bad-boy blue eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

She touched his arm to draw his attention back to her. Unfortunately the warmth of his strong forearm heated the skin of her palm and got her attention in a big way. She pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned. In a way she had.

“If it doesn’t happen this year, then next would work. Or the one after that,” he said.

She shook her head. “I’ve got a year. After that my capital is gone. The ranch has to be paying for itself by then. I have a limited publicity budget and this would be the best way to let people know about my operation.”

“I see.” He glanced over his shoulder at the water again, then back to her. “I don’t remember the pool being here.”