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Romancing Redemption Page 7


  Michael had gotten in early enough to avoid the swing shift crew but late enough to miss Jeffrey before he’d gone to bed. He’d slipped quietly between his own sheets, grateful he didn’t have to immediately rehash the details of dinner with his family.

  Unwilling to open his eyes, Michael mumbled. “Imagine the worst soap opera you can and you’ll about nail it.” The entire dinner his lovely sister had wanted to recall every stupid thing Michael had done in college and even earlier in high school. Michael had withdrawn further into himself while Grandfather’s glower had slowly morphed into a glare which he sliced the majority of the room with.

  “That sucks. Okay, I’ll see you later. I’m running late as it is.” Jeffrey slapped Michael’s shoulder and the thudding of boots fading announced his departure.

  I’m running late as it is. The phrase brought Rosie to the forefront of Michael’s mind. Unable to get to her place the night before, Michael rolled to his back, renewed worry holding him from returning to sleep.

  The early hour lent itself a softening of normal noise. Men tiptoed from the bunkhouse out of respect for their fellow ranch hands. A cool breeze wended through the open doors, wafting through the room.

  He had to see her again. She usually worked dinner shift. Maybe he could swing by her place and take her for breakfast or lunch. He still hadn’t gotten her phone number.

  What kind of man didn’t get the woman’s number?

  How would he ask her to marry him?

  MRS. NORTON, THE ELDERLY lady downstairs, watched Michael climb the steps to the apartment, ratcheting his nerves to a higher level.

  Michael hesitated at the door where the woman had indicated Rosie lived. He took a deep breath then lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles on the panel. He removed his hat, turning it around and around along the brim. He watched the brown bucket twist as the seconds passed.

  Thumps and Rosie calling through the apartment that she’d be right there rewarded his waiting. His heart beat a little faster.

  The door swung open. Rosie pulled the towel from her hair, rubbing the ends and staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Mornin’. I think your car is getting towed.” His serious tone belied the nerves in scuttling along his neck.

  She stopped messing with her hair and ducked her head out the door. “What? Oh my word, why?”

  A fruity aroma surrounded him with her much closer proximity and Michael couldn’t think for a moment as he breathed in. She turned to look at him, confusion covering her face at his smile.

  He hadn’t expected her to take his words with such sincerity. He’d been at a loss for how to just drop by. “I’m just teasing. Your bug is still down there. Safe.”

  “Huh. That’s funny.” She chuckled, back inside the doorway. She picked up the ends of the towel and returned to her hair.

  “Is it too forward of me to ask, if I can come in?” Michael glanced toward the street from the open entryway. He didn’t know if going in her apartment was acceptable or not. He’d never dated anyone in Colby before. Heaven forbid, he do something not perfectly acceptable to the Rourke family name.

  “Yes, I’m sorry. You took me by surprise – and not just with the car joke.” She stepped back and motioned for him to come inside.

  Once through the doorway, he stopped, suddenly more nervous than he’d been all morning. He cleared his throat. “Um, I hope I didn’t pull you right out of the shower...” At least not that he would admit out loud.

  She continued pinching the towel around the ends of her damp burnished gold locks. “No, I’d just gotten out of the shower when I heard your knock.” And apparently, she’d thrown on the first thing she could find – a t-shirt of Notre Dame and black yoga pants which clung to her shapely legs. Devoid of makeup, her fresh face naturally glowed. No pretense.

  Rosie shifted her bare feet, still working on her hair.

  Michael smiled. “I... well, to be honest, I’ve never seen you so beautiful before. You’re always very pretty, it’s just... without makeup and all the ways you hide yourself, you’re...” He shook his head but held his gaze on her reddening skin. “Incredible. I’m not saying that to embarrass you. I’m having a hard time keeping my thoughts to myself.” He laughed self-consciously, running a hand through his own hair.

  “Tsss.” She blushed further, looping the towel behind her neck and across her shoulders. “Thank you, but... I, well, I hide because I don’t want anyone to recognize me.” Following her words, shock widened her eyes and her lips formed a perfect circle. “Will you excuse me while I finish getting ready? Then we can talk. I feel a little out of my element, right now.” She held out her hand, motioning for him to stay.

  “No, please. Take your time.” After she rushed from the room, Michael hit his fist against his thigh. What the hell was he thinking? Maybe she didn’t like him the way he cared about her. He couldn’t hide his affections any further. How many times would his tongue get twisted when he wanted to tell her how much she entranced him?

  And her light blonde hair had always been so soft in color. Just out of the water, it’d been more beckoning like a siren’s. He didn’t care what his grandfather said, Rosie was a good woman who didn’t need a past to define her.

  Hadn’t he made more than his fair share of mistakes? The presence of his grandfather’s doubts in his morning brought a scowl to his face. Michael looked around to take his mind off the demands of Rourke Ranch.

  A modest couch covered with patch-worked denim quilts sat at angles to a refurbished dining table and chairs. Unopened mail stacked neatly on the L-shaped counter beside an empty sink. Brightly colored braided cloth rugs scattered around the tiled flooring, adding personality to a universal apartment.

  Michael maintained his position by the door, still uncertain on the brilliance of dropping in on her unannounced. Only a few minutes passed and suddenly there she was dressed in soft worn jeans and a plain blue t-shirt that brought out the blue of her eyes. She’d brushed her hair, but left it damp.

  She sat on one side of the small couch and motioned to the other end, drawing her feet up beneath her. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, so ignore any messes.”

  At that, Michael laughed out loud, moving to sit where she’d indicated. He stretched out, in an instant comfortable with her again. “I don’t know how you do that, but thank you.”

  She cocked her head, pressing her full lips together. “Do what?”

  “Make it easy for me to be around you. And your place couldn’t be tidier.” He glanced around, but couldn’t keep his eyes from her for long.

  She pushed at his knee with her hand, grinning. “You’re full of compliments. Thank you.” She chewed her bottom lip, watching him.

  He leaned forward, turning his hat again. What if she said no? “Actually, I came to see if you’d like to take a ride with me. I stopped and got stuff for a picnic, if you’re interested?” Spending time with just her couldn’t be higher on his list. Setting aside everything else that he did in his life, pursuing Rosie Scott was just for him. Not for his family, or Ronan James, or his friends. She was simply for him.

  Dropping her feet to the floor, she braced herself on the cushions with straight arms. “Are you sure? Actually, that sounds like something I need. To get away for a little bit.” She stood. “Let me grab some shoes and a jacket.” And before he could say okay, she’d disappeared through the doorway by the side of the refrigerator.

  Elation filled him. She said yes!

  Rosie returned in seconds, even faster than before, tucking a baseball cap into an oversized pocket on a jacket. She’d pulled on knee-high riding boots that had seen better days, but the worn look just made her more attractive with her lack of pretentious trendsetting.

  His sister had always been big on being the height of fashion and there Rosie was – a model in secondhand gear.

  Michael offered his arm, tipping his hat back on his head. “Are you okay riding? I borrowed a second horse from the ranch for you. If you’d
rather not, you can ride behind me, but I figured I’d offer you the choice.”

  Her smile brought out a dimple in her left cheek. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Thank you for letting me make my own choice.” She reached up and placed her finger in the center of his chin, half an inch from his bottom lip. “Keep treating me like a lady and I’ll become spoiled for all the other men.” She jokingly rolled her eyes and laughed, arching her eyebrow with a teasing tilt.

  He almost bent his head the barest amount and nipped her finger where it sizzled against his skin. The woman was hot and she didn’t even know it.

  If she didn’t rein in her sass, she was going to find herself hitched, and Michael didn’t see anything wrong with it.

  MOVING WITH THE HORSE like she’d grown out of the saddle, Rosie stayed with Michael as he led the way over roughed-in trails along the periphery of fields and through forests. Long stretches went without a word, but the comfort in their silence soothed him. He needed a woman he could be quiet with, someone who didn’t need constant chatter to hold them close or secure.

  Too many times he almost reached out for her, to touch her shoulder or hold her hand, but something held him back. He didn’t want to scare her off and the switch from dating her to forever by her side in his thoughts had him on edge. What would they do to her?

  Lacey Caverns’ ranch house rose in the distance off to their left. Rosie glanced its way then at him, her question evident without any words.

  “Have you ever seen Lacey Caverns or Lonely Rivers?” He continued when she shook her head. “Lacey Caverns is owned by the James family – Ronan and Kelsey and their kids. The main source of income for the ranch is mining in the caverns. Mr. James raises beef and elk on the side, but it’s small change for him.”

  Michael pointed past a long barbed fence. Far in the distance, smoke trailed lazily into the blue midday sky. “Lonely Rivers used to be a private ranch but the MacAllister brothers, Slate and Robbie, commercialized it and turned it into a thriving dude ranch.”

  “I heard Robbie is married to Amelia James?” Rosie clucked to her horse as they reached the bottom of the rising forest floor.

  Their horses climbed over mossy rocks and fungi covered logs, fallen needles and just a few stranded colored leaves.

  Michael nodded. “Yeah, there was some kind of feud or something between the ranches. That was before I came to the ranch, so I’m not sure what the details are. My family lives on the other side of the county, so most of what I always heard was just hearsay.”

  “Well, that’s more than me. I don’t talk to a lot of people. I don’t hear a lot of gossip unless my sister decides to talk me into a coma. She hears everything at school.” She tossed him a smile that warmed the cooler air in the shadows and suddenly she stopped, staring ahead of her. The air had brought a becoming pink to her cheeks. “Wow. What is this place?”

  To look away from the image of her sitting there on the horse with sunlight streaming onto the now-dry strands of hair falling about her shoulders required more effort than he had. He pulled his horse to a stop and glanced in the same direction as her. “This is Lonely Rivers.”

  Together they watched the rushing water flow and dance its way past swaying grasses and around bends.

  “What’s that over there?” Rosie pointed toward a collection of boulders growing out of another mountainside. At the base, just beneath the tree limbs and in a small clearing outside of some caves, a fire pit had been erected from river rock and in the shape of a small well.

  “It’s the fire pit the MacAllisters use for their dude ranching trips. Number one priority out here is fire safety. The worst thing that could happen is to have a forest fire.” He shook his head and dismounted from his saddle. Rosie followed his actions and they walked alongside each other on the banks of the Lonely Rivers, Michael feeling anything but lonely.

  “Wow. Such a beautiful area.” She looked around.

  Michael glanced down at her hand, swinging slightly at her side with each step. Did he have the nerve to take it? To hold it as they walked? She wasn’t one of the trampy girls from college. But if he wanted her to know his intentions, he had to start somewhere.

  Taking a deep breath, he stretched out his arm and softly clasped her hand in his. She stopped, pulling her horse to a halt beside her. She looked at their hands, joined between them and then raised her gaze to his, the softest smile on her mouth. “You think we’re to the point we can hold hands?”

  Drowning in the blue of her eyes, Michael struggled to breathe past the emotions he couldn’t verbalize. “I think so...” He narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared?”

  She pulled back, scrunching her nose. “Me? I’m not afraid of anything. I think you might be.” And she stepped into his space, lifting her face to his and shifting her gaze between his lips and his eyes. “I think you’re scared of me.”

  Michael’s half-smile and his comeback died on his lips as she placed her mouth over his. The connection was brief but mind-altering with the sizzle and pop of rightness. His mind cleared and, right there, he realized he hadn’t been too brash with where his feelings were going at all.

  Watching from under her lashes, she stepped back, her lips parting on a breath. “See?” And she turned away from him, walking again along the riverbank.

  Still reeling from the first sweet contact with the woman who wouldn’t get out of his head, Michael watched her move a few steps before quickly catching up and joining her.

  They walked together in silence a few paces. Michael searched his mind for something interesting to say. She’d stunned him with her impromptu kiss and he didn’t quite know where to go or how to act with her.

  He glanced around at their surroundings and his gaze landed on the fire pit again. “I do know a little bit about what happened out here that helped bring the two ranches together.”

  Rosie glanced over her shoulder, interest evident in the angle of her head and the slowing of her step.

  Michael continued. “Well, the story is Devlyn Caracus and his gang – really horrible men – kidnapped Amelia James a few years back and brought her up here for ransom. One of the MacAllister brothers – probably Robbie – stole her back. After that, there was something to do with Devlyn’s brother and then they met with Mr. James and the MacAllisters down by the back field. I guess there was a gunfight and that’s where Caracus and his gang were arrested.” He had to have impressed her with the story, she’d stopped walking altogether when he’d started.

  Rosie stared across the water to the pit, unmoving. Michael leaned at the waist to see her reaction.

  Tears glistened on her cheeks.

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest. “Rosie, I’m sorry. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He ransacked his mind. What could he have said or done in those few seconds to bring her to tears?

  She placed both hands flat against his chest and pushed back, shaking her head. “It’s okay.” Swiping at her cheeks, she plastered a smile on her face, obviously forced, and turned to her horse. “I need to work this evening. Do you mind, if we get back?”

  Michael didn’t stop her as she mounted and then turned her horse toward the ranches. He settled into the saddle and followed her down the mountain trail as their horses picked their way along.

  Mentally kicking himself, Michael resolved to apologize again at the bottom where they could draw abreast of each other.

  But when the land leveled out and the plains stretched before them, Rosie glanced over her shoulder and called out. “I’ll race you.” She gave a slight kick to the flank of the horse and pulled away from Michael. Matching her pace, Michael held his horse back from overtaking Rosie. Something about her actions screamed escape.

  He would let her.

  The last thing he wanted to see on her face again were tears.

  Rosie

  Chapter 11

  SHE’D BLAME HER TEARS on the wi
nd as she raced the horse, pushing her faster and faster. Muscles bunching beneath her, the animal’s speed delighted Rosie. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been astride a horse, especially such a well-bred one. Mild-mannered, the horse responded to Rosie’s demands as if they were one.

  Michael’s story had singed her insides. How had he known to bring up her father right then? As soon as she’d dropped her guard around him? The introduction of the raw topic rubbed pieces of her loose, like sandpaper on her insides.

  She didn’t slow when they reached the outskirts of town. Tearing through the streets, she ignored the people they passed. Pausing at the front of her building, she slid off and tied the horse to the deck rail. Michael thundered up beside her.

  He jumped down, softly grabbing her shoulder when she tried to race up the stairs. “Rosie, stop.”

  Freezing, but not from the cold, Rosie closed her eyes, still facing away from him. She didn’t want him to see the effects of his words on her face.

  “What did I do? I’m sorry. Don’t make me leave like this.” His plea fell like shards of glass around her, slicing her with guilt. She didn’t want to act this way, she just... Devlyn Caracus was a rough topic to face alone. She didn’t want to drag Michael into the hell surrounding the background of the Scott girls.

  She turned slowly, eyes downcast. From stiff lips, she muttered. “It’s fine. I just... your story hit me kind of hard. I’m tired, you know? Had a long night with Sara Beth last night and... I just need to be alone right now. I’m sorry.”

  “I understand. If it’s okay, I’ll check in with you tomorrow, make sure you’re okay.” He lifted Rosie’s hand in his and turned it so the palm faced up.

  Unable to look away, Rosie watched as he kissed the soft skin in the very center of her hand, the barely visible shadow of stubble scraping and tickling the fleshy part beneath her thumb where it grazed. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I had a great time with you.” And he winked.