Читать книгу Summer Nights - Сьюзен Мэллери - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
ANNABELLE DIDN’T COMPLETELY understand the science of growing fruit. Not only had she been raised in a city, her ability to grow anything was hampered by having what she cheerfully referred to as the black thumb of death. If she got too close to a plant, it visibly recoiled. If she dared to take one home with her, the poor thing withered and died within a couple of weeks. She’d tried watering, feeding, sunlight and playing classical music. She’d read books on the subject. Nothing worked. It had gotten to the point where the Plants for the Planet, a small local nursery in town, refused to sell her anything except cut flowers. Something she tried not to take personally. So the agricultural cycle of life eluded her.
What she did know was that fruit that grew on trees matured later than fruit that grew on vines, or bushes. That strawberries arrived first and that cherries, which grew on trees and therefore should have been later in the summer, were available by mid-June. She also knew that several families spent their summers living in small trailers by the vineyards and orchards. They worked the various crops and after the grapes were picked in late September and early October, they moved on.
Annabelle drove up to the circle of trailers and parked. Before she’d even opened her door, children spilled out of the trailers, jumped off swings and raced from the grove of trees shading the area. They circled her car, laughing, pulling open her door and urging her out.
“Did you bring them? Did you bring them?”
Annabelle stood and put her hands on her hips. “Bring what? Did you ask me for something?”
The children, ranging in ages from maybe four to eleven or twelve, smiled eagerly at her. One little boy darted behind her and pulled the latch that opened her trunk. Immediately the children hurried over and began searching through the bins of books she’d brought.
“It’s here.”
“That one’s mine.”
“The second and third book in the series? Sweet!”
By the time the kids had found their requested books and disappeared to begin the magic of getting lost in a story, the mothers had appeared, most carrying infants or toddlers in their arms.
Annabelle greeted the women she knew and was introduced to a few she hadn’t met yet. Maria, a slight woman in her early forties, leaned heavily on her cane as she gave Annabelle a welcoming hug.
“The children were watching the clock all morning,” she said, leading the way to a small outdoor table by the largest trailer. Maria’s husband managed the group of workers and spoke for them when dealing with the local farmers. Maria acted as unofficial “den mother” for the younger women.
“I’m glad,” Annabelle said, settling in one of the folding chairs. “When I was their age, summer was all about reading.”
“It is for them, too. Since last year, when you first found us, the little ones want books.”
After moving to Fool’s Gold the previous year, Annabelle had started driving around to explore the area. She’d discovered the enclave of trailers, had met several of the women and made friends with the children. Maria had been the first to welcome her and had been enthusiastic about her idea of bringing books to community.
This year, Annabelle had created several reading lists, based on the ages of the children. She was working on getting donations so that when the families left, they would take plenty of books with them. Enough to last until they returned next year.
Maria had already set out iced tea and cookies. Annabelle poured them each a glass.
“Leticia is going to have her baby this week,” Maria said. “Her husband is frantic. Men have no patience with nature when it comes to their children. He asks every day, ‘Is it now?’ As if the baby is going to tell him.”
“He sounds excited.”
“He is. And frightened.” She called out something in Spanish.
“Sí, Mama,” came the response.
Maria smiled. “They’re writing down the titles of the books they took, and what they want for next time.”
“I’ll be back next week.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “I have several of those romances you like, as well.”
Maria grinned. “Good. We all like them.”
Annabelle wanted to offer more, which was why she was focused on getting the money for the bookmobile. With luck, this time next year she would be bringing a lot more than three or four bins of books in the trunk of her car. She would be able to offer free internet access. Maria and her friends could email with family members in different countries and use various web resources to supplement their children’s education.
“Blanca’s engaged,” Maria said with a sigh.
“Congratulations.”
“I told you, good men are out there.”
“Yes, in Bakersfield. You told me.” Maria’s eldest daughter had studied nursing, then moved to central California.
“He’s a doctor.”
Annabelle laughed. “Every mother’s dream.”
“She’s happy and that matters most, but yes, I like saying my daughter is marrying a doctor. Have you been to the hospital lately?”
“That was subtle.”
“You need a man.”
Just then a little boy ran up to her, a small jar in his hands. He stopped in front of Annabelle and grinned. “We found ’em and saved ’em. Because you bring us books.”
She took the jar full of pennies. “Thank you, Emilio. This is going to help a lot.”
He darted off and she carefully held the precious gift. Technically it was only a couple of dollars, but for the children who had collected the pennies, it represented a fortune.
“You’ve made a wonderful home for your children,” she said. “All of you. You should be very proud of them.”
“We are. But don’t think I’ve forgotten what we were talking about. Finding you a good man.”
“I’m ready for a good man,” she admitted. She thought about her post-bar-dancing revelation. “One who wants me for me. Not someone who wants to change me. I haven’t been lucky enough to find him yet.”
“Luck can change.”
“I hope so.”
She thought briefly about Shane who brought the cowboy fantasy to 3-D life. The man looked great in jeans, but he was a little strange. She was trying to figure out a polite way to ask if he’d maybe been dropped on his head as a baby.
Besides, cute didn’t equate with good and she was done making bad choices when it came to her love life. The next man she allowed in her world and her bed was going to adore her for exactly who she was.
* * *
“WAIT,” SHANE YELLED, watching the teenager on the horse. “Wait.”
Elias, nineteen and sure he knew better, jerked back on the reins. The gelding dug in hard and came to a stop. Elias’s rope fell about three feet shy of the calf who darted away.
Elias swore. “Damn calf is laughing at me.”
“He’s not the only one,” Shane grumbled. “Why are you here if you’re not going to listen?”
“I’m listening.”
“No. You’re doing what you want to do and look where it’s getting you.”
Elias muttered something under his breath and reached for his rope. “If I wait too long, I’m gonna miss.”
“Waiting too long isn’t your problem.”
“Now you sound like my girlfriend.”
Shane chuckled. “You’ll get better with practice on both counts. Now let’s try this again.”
“See, you need to be working with me, Shane. What have you got going on here that’s better than the rodeo?”
“A life.”
“Not much of one. You’re stuck in this small town. I swore, once I got out of mine, I was never going back. I can’t believe you could live anywhere and you’re here.”
Shane thought about the couple hundred acres he’d bought and the stables and house he would have built. “I’ve got everything I need.”
Elias grimaced. “Well, help me win and I’ll take care of everything I owe.”
“Kid, you got heart, but you’re going to need a lot more practice. And I’m out of the game.”
Elias nodded toward the far corral, where Khatar watched everything going on. “How much did you waste on him? Coulda bought a whole ranch with what you paid for that one.”
“He’s worth it.”
“In your dreams.”
“He’s perfect,” Shane said, not bothering to glance at the stallion.
“If he doesn’t kill you first.”
“He has a reputation, I’ll grant you that. But I’m not convinced he’s as mean as everyone says. You interested in practicing or are you here to flap your gums at me? I’ve got better things to do than stand around listening to you tell me what you don’t know.”
Elias grinned. “I’m here to learn.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Until three. Then I have to head to Wyoming.” Elias opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it and gave a low whistle. “I sure wouldn’t mind getting me a piece of that first, though.”
As the teen spoke, Shane felt a prickling on the back of his neck. He didn’t even have to turn around to know who had arrived, didn’t have to see to understand that his afternoon had just taken a jog toward the impossible.
Elias slid off his horse. He dropped the reins and pulled off his hat, then walked to the fence.
“Afternoon,” he called, his eyes wide, his lips curving in a stupid grin.
Shane gave in to the inevitable and shifted so he could watch Annabelle approach.
She’d replaced her fitted summer dress with jeans and a T-shirt, which shouldn’t have been sexy, but were. The jeans hugged impressive curves, and while her legs weren’t all that long, they were well-shaped. She’d pulled her wavy red hair back into a braid. Her green gaze met him and damned if he didn’t want to go down on his knees and beg. He wasn’t sure what for, but at this point he would gladly take anything she offered. Although if it was hot, took a long time and was illegal in several states, he could like it even more.
“Yours?” Elias asked, speaking under his breath.
“No, but stay away.”
“But I—”
“No.”
Elias huffed in annoyance and spun his hat in his hands.
“Hello, Shane,” Annabelle said as she stopped in front of him. “I’m here for my lesson.” She smiled and held up a tiny foot. “I bought cowboy boots. I want to tell you that you should be impressed, but honestly any excuse to buy new shoes is welcome.” The smile blossomed. “It’s a girl thing.”
“They’re real nice,” Elias said.
“Thank you.”
Shane gave in to the inevitable. “Annabelle, this is Elias.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said easily.
“My pleasure.” Elias looked her over thoroughly. “I was supposed to be heading to Wyoming. It’s my grandma’s birthday in a couple of days. But I could stay put for a while.”
“No, you couldn’t,” Shane told him, watching Annabelle to see if she was going to start flirting with the younger man.
“We should let the lady decide.”
Annabelle watched them both, then frowned. “I’m sorry. Do you mean me?”
“Elias wants to know if he should stick around,” Shane said. “For you.”
A delicate frown pulled her eyebrows together. “I don’t understand.”
“We could go out to dinner,” Elias offered. “Or back to my place.”
“You don’t have a place,” Shane reminded him. “You stayed with me last night.”
“I could get a place.”
“You have a girlfriend.”
Elias turned back to Annabelle. “It’s not serious.”
“You’re nineteen.”
Elias glared at him. “Don’t make me hurt you, old man.”
Annabelle shook her head. “I’m still confused. I’m, ah, here to learn how to ride.”
Shane winked at Elias. “That was a no.”
“Like you’re going to do any better.”
Shane knew that was probably true. More important, for reasons of self-preservation, he needed to stay clear of Annabelle Weiss. Even if she was a temptation.
“About the riding lesson,” she began.
Elias sighed. “Is it an age thing? Everyone thinks I’m real mature.”
Shane slapped him on the back. “Is that what they’re saying?”
“You stay out of this, old man. This is between me and the lady.”
Old man?
Annabelle’s green eyes widened. “Are you trying to ask me out?”
“If you have to ask, then I’m doing it wrong,” Elias muttered.
“Something else the girlfriend says?” Shane asked quietly.
Elias glared at him. “Shut up.”
Shane patted him on the back. “Give it time, kid. You’ll get the hang of it.”
“I do just fine.”
“Uh-huh.”
Shane turned his attention back to Annabelle. As he’d suspected, she created trouble wherever she went. He was torn between regretting his offer to help and wondering how he would survive if he didn’t get to see her. She was the kind of woman who—
He was interrupted midthought by a whole different kind of trouble approaching from the direction of the barn.
* * *
ANNABELLE WAS WILLING to admit she had a sucky track record when it came to men, but she’d never found them quite so perplexing. The young cowboy was hitting on her, which was flattering, but made no sense. She was too old for him. Sure, her new boots were cute, but she’d yet to meet a guy who was that into shoes.
It was the height thing, she thought with a sigh. Because she was small, people often assumed she was younger than she was. Or incompetent. Or both.
As for Shane, who was even better looking in person than in her memory, he seemed more amused than attracted to her. Probably for the best. At least he was acting more normally today. Maybe he hadn’t been feeling well the last time they’d met.
“Don’t move,” Shane said in a low voice.
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t move. Stay exactly where you are. Elias?”
“On it, boss.” The teen slipped between the rails of the corral and started walking in a wide circle.
“It’s going to be all right,” Shane said, never taking his eyes from her.
Annabelle realized this wasn’t some strange game, that there really was a problem. Her body went cold as she imagined a large snake approaching. One with big fangs and poisonous venom designed to kill in six painful seconds. Or maybe she was being stalked by something worse, although right now she couldn’t imagine what could fit that description.
“A bear?” she asked hopefully. Being mauled seemed better than anything to do with a snake. “Is it a bear?”
“A horse.”
“What?”
She turned and saw the large white stallion they’d talked about the day before. Apparently he’d let himself out of his enclosure and was now trotting toward her.
He was beautiful—like something out of the movies. His mane and tail shimmered, muscles rippled and his hooves were a shiny black. Dark eyes locked with hers as he headed directly for her.
He had the most gentle expression, she thought, her nervousness fading away. Almost as if he were trying to reassure her.
She put her hand on her chest, just below her throat. “You scared me. I thought it was a snake. While I hate to be one of the crowd, I share the typical female fear of snakes.” She turned toward the horse. “Hey, big guy. You’re beautiful. I assumed I would be afraid of horses because you’re so big, but you’re sweet, aren’t you?”
“Annabelle, stay calm.” Shane’s voice was insistent, almost fearful.
“Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”
“Move back slowly.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Elias approaching with a rope. The teen was bent over at the waist, practically running. Overreact much, she thought, as Khatar reached her.
“Hey, baby,” she murmured, reaching up and stroking the huge animal’s face. “Who’s a handsome boy?”
Khatar shuffled closer and placed his face near to hers. She smiled at him and breathed in the scent of horse. It wasn’t as overwhelming as she would have thought. She patted his neck.
“You’re very strong,” she told him. “Do all the girls say that? I’ll bet you’re very popular with the lady horses.”
He put his head on her shoulder and leaned into her. The action nearly sent her to her knees, but she managed to stay standing. She wrapped both arms around him and would have sworn he sighed.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, stepping back and rubbing his cheek again. “Are you lonely? Does mean old Shane ignore you?”
She glanced over her shoulder and saw both men staring at her. Elias’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. Shane looked surprised, but slightly less comical.
“What?” she asked.
“Stay calm,” Elias told her, sounding oddly desperate.
“I am calm. What is with you two?” She glanced around, half expecting to see a marauding snake or twelve.
Shane and the teen exchanged a whispered few words, then Elias began to circle the stallion. Khatar, still nuzzling her, casually kicked out a back hoof. Elias jumped back.
“Annabelle, please step back.”
Shane sounded stern. She did as he asked. Khatar followed. She rubbed his shoulder.
“Will I be riding him?” she asked.
“No!” The two men spoke as one.
“Okay, okay.” She returned her attention to Khatar. “Are you valuable? Is that the problem? You’re pretty enough to be worth a ton. Although I suppose handsome is a better word, right? Who’s a handsome boy?”
Elias and Shane had another whispered conversation.
“Annabelle, we’re going to put a halter on Khatar,” Shane said in that slightly annoying, reasonable voice.
“Want me to do it?” she asked. “He seems to like me.”
“No. I want you to slowly step away, while I get between you and him.”
She took the horse’s big head in both her hands and lightly kissed the hair above his nose. “You be good for Shane, you hear me?”
His eyes flickered and his gaze shifted to the cowboy. Then his ears went back.
She didn’t know much about horses, but that didn’t seem like a good sign.
“Why don’t I stay close,” she offered. “That way he’ll be calm.”
“She’s not crazy, boss,” Elias said. “Look at him.”
She’s not crazy. Wow—maybe she could get that made into a bumper sticker for her car. Talk about a way to step up her game in the romance department. Men would be flocking.
Shane hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Be careful,” he told her. “Watch out for his hooves. He’s likely to kick.”
“How do you know that? Has he kicked you?”
“No, but—”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Has this horse done even one mean thing since you got him?”
“No, but—”
Annabelle exhaled. “Why do you think he’s a problem?”
“I don’t. He’s a great horse. Okay? Happy now?”
Shane moved in. Khatar stiffened slightly. Annabelle rubbed his neck.
“It’s okay, big guy. He’s not going to hurt you and I’m right here.”
Khatar relaxed and Shane slipped on the halter. She grabbed the rope hanging down.
“Now I have you in my power,” she joked. Khatar took a step toward her. She glanced at Shane. “I guess I can take him wherever you want him.”
The two men both looked stunned. Again. Shane pointed to the corral where Khatar had been kept before. She led the way, stroking his neck as they walked, his head right beside hers. When they reached the enclosure, she walked him in, closed the gate and then unfastened the rope.
“Home again,” she said with a smile.
Khatar sighed. Or maybe snorted. She couldn’t tell.
Shane secured the latch on the gate. “Annabelle, slowly move to the railings.”
She glanced at him. “Seriously, you don’t need to talk in that ‘let’s keep the crazy horse calm’ voice. He’s fine. Too bad I can’t ride him.”
“You can’t,” Shane told her. “Now please come out of the corral.”
She did as asked. Khatar followed her to the fence, then stared at her, looking lost and a little stricken.
“I think he’s lonely,” she said. “Can’t you pay attention to him more?”
Elias walked up. “Ma’am, that horse is a killer.”
“He’s not a killer,” Shane said quickly. “He’s difficult. Or has a reputation for being difficult.”
“You didn’t find out for yourself?” she asked. “You just assumed?” Annabelle looked at the forlorn expression on Khatar’s sad face. “Maybe you should do a little more checking.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Shane told her.
* * *
THE WORLD LOOKED DIFFERENT from the back of a horse, Annabelle thought thirty minutes later. She was perched on Mason, her friend Charlie’s large horse, hanging on to the saddle with both hands. Although she’d read a couple of books on riding, none of that information had prepared her for how far away she was from the ground.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said desperately.
The horse stood perfectly still, which was a good thing. If he took even a single step, she was pretty sure she was going to start screaming.
“Just relax,” Shane told her. He held on to Mason’s bridle and patted the horse’s shoulder. “Get used to how it feels.”
It felt too high and way too scary, she thought frantically. A hundred or so yards away, Khatar ran back and forth, keeping close to the fence line as he called out to her.
“If you’re telling me to be careful, I’m so listening,” she murmured, knowing the horse couldn’t hear her. Riding while a horse danced? What had she been thinking? “Maybe I’ll try a car wash instead. That would raise money, right? I can wash cars.”
Shane flashed her a grin. “Come on, Annabelle. I was riding a horse before I could ride a bike. It’s not that bad.”
“I’m too small.” Her short legs were sticking out so much they were practically parallel to the ground. “Does he even know I’m on his back? What if he thinks I’m a bug and decides to shake me off?”
“Mason’s a good horse. You’ll be fine. Now take the reins.”
She shook her head. That would mean letting go, which was so not going to happen.
“Use your left hand,” he instructed. “You can still hang on with your right.”
“I don’t want to,” she whined, but then slowly, carefully, picked up the reins. The thick leather was worn and softer than she would have thought. She still kept a firm hold on the massive saddle, but felt slightly more horsewoman-like, perched there and actually holding reins.
“Now think about him moving forward and gently kick him.”
“What?”
“You want him to move, right?”
“Not really.”
She was up to sitting on a horse while the horse stood still. Everything else seemed a little too risky. She reminded herself this was for a good cause. But kicking?
“I don’t want to hurt him.” Or piss him off. At this point, as far as she was concerned, the horse was seriously in control of the situation.
“Then don’t,” Shane told her. “Like I said. Be gentle.”
She sucked in a breath and lightly touched her heels to his side.
Nothing happened.
She did it again. This time Mason turned and stared at her, as if asking if that was her or just a leaf.
“It was me,” she informed the horse. She wiggled in her seat, urging him forward. “Walk.”
He took a lurching step.
Actually it probably wasn’t lurching, it just felt lurching to her. The entire world seemed to jerk slightly as he walked. She screamed, dropped the reins and grabbed onto the saddle with both hands.
She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh but was hanging on too hard to look in Shane’s direction.
“You’re not helping,” she yelled.
“You’re doing fine.”
“This is not fine. This is flirting with death.”
“Relax. Move with him instead of against him. You’re fighting movement you can’t control.”
Not information designed to make her feel better. She sucked in a breath and tried to relax. As her muscles unclenched, she realized the movement wasn’t as lurching as she’d first thought. She was staying in the saddle and didn’t feel that she was in danger of slipping off. While she kept a tight grip on the saddle with her right hand, she once again picked up the reins with her left.
“Good,” Shane said, his mouth twitching suspiciously. “Just like that.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Only a little.”
Thirty minutes later, Annabelle had figured out the walking thing and had even been slapped around during a very bone-crunching trot. She’d managed to let go of the saddle and hang on to the reins like a real rider.
“Not bad,” Shane said as she drew Mason to a stop.
“Thanks,” she said, bending over and patting the horse’s neck.
“I was talking to him.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny. So how do I get down?”
She’d used wooden steps to get up to horse level, but wasn’t sure she was comfortable dropping onto them. If Mason wasn’t in exactly the right position, she could easily fall off the stairs and snap a bone or something.
“Swing your leg over and drop to the ground,” Shane said, moving in to hold on to the horse’s bridle. “I’ll keep him still.”
She looked all the way down to the ground, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You can’t stay up there forever,” he pointed out. “You’ll be fine.”
“Do you know how short I am? It’s farther for me than most people.”
“By a couple of inches.”
Inches could be significant. As a man, he should know that. Still, his point about not staying up in the saddle for the rest of her life was a good one. So she followed his instructions on how to position her hands and then swung her right leg over Mason’s wide and very high back. Holding on to the saddle, she reached down and down and finally felt the solid earth with her toe. She released and sank back. Only to find herself unable to stand.
Annabelle’s arms went up and out as she staggered, her legs too wobbly to support her. It was as if the muscles had suddenly become al dente pasta.
Just before she hit the ground, strong arms came around her and saved her.
She found herself pressed up against Shane, staring into dark eyes that were bright with humor. This close, he looked even better. She liked the firmness of his jaw and the shape of his mouth. She was aware of his hands—one on her waist and one resting at the small of her back. Her body nestled against his and there was heat everywhere.
“Your muscles take a minute to recover after riding,” he murmured. “I probably should have warned you.”
She felt the first serious zing of attraction ricochet through her. It left her weaker than being on horseback riding ever could and alerted her to fifty kinds of danger.
Apparently Shane should have warned her about a lot more than riding.
