A Ranch to Keep. Claire McEwen

would be great,” he managed. Like an icy shower. She opened the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of water.

      “Nothing fancy, I’m afraid. I haven’t exactly stocked the cupboards.”

      “It’s perfect,” he croaked, reaching for the glass. His hand brushed hers and he couldn’t help it, he held it there for just an instant, loving the way her soft skin felt against his, the warmth of her in contrast to the chilled glass. Then her hand was gone and he told himself that it was for the best if he was going to be able to walk out of there without making a complete idiot of himself. He took a long drink of the water, watching her. She had a rag and was swiping at a speck of dirt on the counter that only she could see. She didn’t look at him.

      “So you’re packing the car up,” he offered, regretting the words as soon as they were out. Talk about stating the obvious.

      “Yes,” she answered, and turned, her eyes cautious and veiled, making him wonder if he’d imagined the deep green wanting he’d seen moments ago.

      “Heading back to San Francisco?” He wasn’t earning any points as a conversationalist, that was for sure, but he wanted to be with her a few more minutes. He had no idea when he’d see her again, and he wanted to know more about this woman who’d invaded his thoughts and held them hostage ever since.

      “Not home to San Francisco right away, actually. Los Angeles for a day or two first.”

      “You’re driving to L.A. tonight?” It was almost six hours to L.A. from here and it would be dark soon. He didn’t like the idea of her alone at night in the rugged country between here and Southern California.

      “Yes, I know, it’s a long ways. Not exactly what I had planned, but I got a call that I’m needed at a meeting there tomorrow, and it’s a really good opportunity for me, so I said I’d go.”

      “What kind of opportunity?”

      Samantha’s face lit up. “Well, I’ve been with this advertising firm for six years, and last year I was made a vice president. But after putting in so many extra hours, and giving up so many weekends, I think I’m ready to take on more. But—” she paused for a moment, a worried look flitting across her features “—for various reasons, I haven’t really felt comfortable asking my boss about it. At this meeting in L.A., I’ll be working with my boss’s boss, so this will be a great opportunity to show him what I can do.”

      “You really love your work, don’t you?”

      Samantha looked at him quizzically. “Well, love is a pretty strong word. But yes, I like it. It’s what I do.”

      He studied her, standing in the old kitchen, so strong and independent. She wasn’t a big woman, in fact her frame was slight and graceful. He tried to imagine what might happen if she had a blowout or engine trouble and was stuck on her own on a pitch-black road in the middle of nowhere. The thought made him queasy. “Samantha, I get that you want this promotion, but is it absolutely necessary to drive six hours in the middle of the night?”

      Annoyance flashed across her face. “I’m perfectly capable of driving after dark. That’s not a skill specific to men, Jack.”

      “Look...I’m not questioning your abilities. Just drive safely. It’s a rough road and there’re not a lot of towns along the way. Just make sure you fill your tank when you get to Bishop.”

      “Thanks for the tip. Now, the sooner I get on the road the less dark I’ll be driving in.” She’d softened a little, but not much. Questioning this trip had been the wrong move. She was way too independent to listen to some guy she’d just met telling her to be careful. But he knew he’d be up all night thinking about her anyway, and he’d prefer it if that thinking didn’t include worrying if she was okay or not.

      She’d picked up her last few bags and was heading out to the porch. He rinsed out his glass, grabbed his boots and followed her. The car loaded, she came up onto the porch next to him to lock the front door.

      “Samantha.” She stopped and looked at him. In her heels, fancy jeans and leather blazer she looked beautiful and totally out of place. Like some exotic flower that had just sprung up somehow in the old ranch yard.

      “Yes?”

      “Out here on these mountain roads a lot can go wrong. The roads wind through a lot of wilderness areas. They get washed out and rough sometimes. Do me a favor. Take my phone number and send me a message when you get there? So I know you made it okay?”

      Her eyebrows drew together in a scowl and her chin tilted up defiantly. “Jack, obviously you’ve experienced some sort of trauma with a woman driver at some point in your life, and I’m sorry for that. But trust me, I’m fine! I don’t need someone worrying about me like this. I’ve made it this far through life without it. And I, for one, have great confidence in my driving abilities!” Her eyes were flashing an amazing emerald color, which he’d appreciate more if it didn’t mean she was furious with him. He stood wary, choosing silence as his best defense.

      “Thank you so much for everything you’ve helped me with this weekend.” The easy familiarity that had been between them at the creek earlier was gone. She was icily polite. “But I don’t need your help with this particular task. I’ll see you in a week or two.” She stepped into her car and closed the door firmly behind her. With a wave, she started the engine and drove the sleek, black machine down the driveway.

      Jack turned away, shaking his head in frustration. He admired her stubborn independence, but not when it had her ignoring a common-sense safety precaution like letting someone know when her long drive was over. And he was frustrated with himself. What was wrong with him? Samantha might be beautiful and funny and smart, but she clearly wasn’t going to stay around here long, and he needed to stop wanting her to.

      A whinny echoed faintly down the valley, reminding him that it was feeding time. Jack started up the rocky trail that separated the two ranch houses, deep in thought. Samantha was a complex woman who’d made him feel complicated things all weekend. And some of those complicated things felt a little too familiar. Like maybe history was repeating itself. What was that old saying? “Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it”? It seemed like he had some unpleasant memories to study up on. He thought he’d learned his lesson about getting involved with a city girl a long time ago, but apparently he needed a refresher to stop him from wanting Samantha.

      Jack covered the last yards of the trail with big strides and stepped with relief onto his own property. His old wooden barn, stripped of paint long ago by the harsh mountain weather, was a welcome sight. He was ready to get back to his own world. It might get kind of lonely at times, but it was far simpler and a whole lot more peaceful.