Splinters (9 page)

She’s nodding. “You need a break. That’s understandable, even without what’s happened to you.”

I pick at the rail and dislodge a splinter of wood. Smile at it. “There’s a part of me that wants to thank that person—whoever they are—for bringing me out here. For showing this place to me.” I flick the splinter away. “A tiny part, obviously, but it’s there.”

She leans into my shoulder and rubs at my back. “Then take your time here. Soak up all the good things you can from this place and its people. The rest of the world will be waiting for you when you’re ready to come back.”

I nod because I know I’ll go back eventually. I wasn’t feeding her a line when I said I still want to model and act, but on different terms. That’s me, I need it, and I’ll do it. Later. Exploring the quiet and peaceful and all the wonderful feelings I’m getting from being with Duke are far more important now.

We totter around the immediate area for a few hours. It isn’t boring and doesn’t make me feel lazy. It’s all about discovery and the little things I, at least, had lost sight of after gaining a career. We watch bees visit wildflowers, dark birds swoop through the air to catch their dinner, and I realize there’s a hum and a rhythm to silence.

When Duke appears from out of a copse of trees several yards behind the house, Elsie and I wave gaily. He doesn’t wave back and disappears almost immediately. Probably didn’t see us. I’m tempted to follow him into the woods, but not with Elsie along, considering what I’d like to get up to in there. Besides, he’s no doubt quite busy with something important.

The heat becomes a bit unbearable, the blazing Texas sun baking us like the golden grasses at our feet. We make ourselves comfortable in the shade of the porch. Soon Elsie goes back inside, seeking refreshments, but I stay out here. I’m eager to have Duke return for the evening this time.

Eventually, the sound of hoofbeats draws me back to the barn. I have a flashback to watching reruns of
Bonanza
when I was young. Those opening credits, the bass voices, and Little Joe’s smile… I laugh at myself, realizing my interest in cowboys started early.

“Good day on the range?” I ask the specific cowboy I have plans for as he disassembles the various buckles and straps from his horse.

Duke grins at me. “It was.”

“What did you do out there?” I lean on the stall door.

“Checked fences, cleaned and repaired haying equipment, did some maintenance on a few ditches and pipes, checked more fences…” He swings the saddle off the horse and nods for me to move back. “Ain’t glamorous, but it all needs doin’.” He drops the saddle on the stall door.

With all that arduous work, no wonder he’s sweaty and filthy. I wink at him, though. “Glamorous cowboys aren’t
real
cowboys.”

He chuckles while disentangling the horse from its leather headgear. “There is that.”

“And now you’re done for the day?”

“I’ve gotta get on the computer for a while after supper.” He takes up a scrub brush and sweeps it down the horse’s back. It hardly looks enjoyable for the horse, but it’s calmly chomping on the granola in a corner bucket. “But the outdoor work is done.”

It sounds like a lot of busy mixed in with a lot of waiting.
Huh
. It’s rather similar to modeling. I like that. “And then you do it all again tomorrow?”

“Yep.” He trails a hand down the horse’s front leg, and then lifts its foot up to peer at the metal horseshoe there.

“Can I do something?”

“What would you like to do?” He lets the horse have its leg back and looks at me. Those maple syrup eyes of his are twinkling.

I shrug, both because I don’t know and I’m fine with him thinking I’m possibly cute. “I could ride around as your shadow. Like I’m in training.”

“Training to be a ranch hand, huh? Gonna give up modeling?”

I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, heavens, no. But I wouldn’t mind learning to fix fences and I can certainly count cows or something.”

“Cattle.”

“Them, too.”

He laughs and comes over to me. His calloused fingers lightly scrape along my cheek before he’s cupping my jaw in his warm, earthy-scented hand. I lean my head into the hold and close my eyes as he dips down to kiss me. Bristly mustache, soft lips, and all the smells of hard working man, and the crisp heat of earth and sun. There’s something so honest about his kiss here and near the end of the day. Him coming home, me meeting him, and the two of us going inside for dinner. Simple domestication.

I'd had no idea I wanted this.

“You can come with me tomorrow,” he says, his breath warm on my face. “I’ll show you whatever you want to know, and you can tell me all about your best and worst jobs.”

“Okay.” And I smile because I just want to be near him.

We walk toward the house hand-in-hand past the small, trailer-sized house Elsie and I had peeked into earlier. Bunkhouse? Toby and Ray give us nods and tip their hats as they go in there. I’m a little amazed and definitely happy that neither of them seem at all concerned by us. Elsie’s there to open the kitchen door for Duke and me. Once we’re inside, Mia immediately puts Elsie and me to work while Duke heads off to clean up.

I’m as handy in a kitchen as I am on a ranch, but I do take direction well. While Elsie sets the table, I fetch whatever final touches Mia needs to complete the meal. Honestly, the woman must’ve been cooking dinner the moment lunch ended because there’s an abundance of food yet again. If I’d thought breakfast had been decadent, this meal went above and beyond.

“Mia, do you usually eat like this?” Because maybe it’s her showing off for a guest. Not that I’m complaining.

She looks at the dishes waiting to be carried into the dining room. “Sure.” She smiles uncertainly at me. “Why?”

“I’m just impressed.”

She beams like I couldn’t have given her a better compliment, then points me to the oven when it dings.

While I bend to get the biscuits out, I hear a gasp behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I discover Duke staring at my ass. Or he’s seeing the lacy top to my panties. I grin. “Need something, gorgeous?”

He clears his throat in a blustery way, color hitting his cheeks, and turns away only to bump into a chair beside him. I bite my lip to keep from laughing too much as he bumbles around another couple of seconds before stomping out of the room.

“I’ve still got it,” I say to the tray of golden biscuits.

Mia snickers. “And
he’s
got it bad.”

I waggle my eyebrows at her and get a giggle. When she’s not spazzed out on caffeine—or whatever was making her so jumpy this morning—she’s rather fun to be around.

fter dinner, we clean up, and then head into the den. While Duke taps and clicks away on the computer, the boys and Mia tell stories about each other. I sit, quietly observing, and realize these people are incredibly close. Like family. It’s another reason for me to never want to leave.

Well, not
never
. That would be absurd. I just don’t want to go
right now
.

My own family is distant, but I’ve always thought it’s because neither of my parents really knew what to do with me when I was younger. Mom had allowed me to dress up in her clothes from the time I could walk, but it now confuses and concerns her that I still do something similar so publicly. We’ve had several talks about whether she’d “done” something to me by indulging me. I’m running out of ways to assure her she didn’t.

I don’t think Dad has ever known what to make of me. I’m not rowdy and aggressive like him and his brothers, don’t enjoy contact sports, and when I’m campy, it embarrasses him. I do believe they love me, but I’m easier to love from afar.

Yet here, I fit in just fine. I mean, within hours of meeting me, Ray is now doing a passible impression of me.

“Oh, Duke,” he says with his voice pitched entirely too high. “How
strong
you are.” He swoons over the arm of the couch toward Toby, who obligingly flexes his muscles.

“Come now,” I admonish. “I would’ve used an adverb in there.
Delightfully
strong.
Deliciously
.” I shake my head at the boyish giggling from both men. “If you’re going to play queer, do it well, darlings.”

The girls offer their opinions while I roll my eyes. Duke contributes an amused grunt and continues with his computing. I don’t know if this is their typical evening, but it’s been a long time since I’ve known its equal.

Duke turns around eventually, done with his business, and joins in at least enough to laugh and refute tall tales. His eyes are alive and his grin broad. Mia makes him blush and play at hiding his face while telling me about Duke’s barnyard kittens.

“Everyone else around here leaves the strays be to do their job mousin’.” She giggles when Duke flings a pen at her. “But our sweet Duke got it in his head to gentle a whole passel of kittens, name every one of ’em, and—” She raises her voice like this is the best part.

“Oh, shut up, girl,” Duke grumbles with a red face.

“—he bought a little pink brush for ’em!”

The boys guffaw. Giggling, Mia curls up to fend off the throw pillow Duke wings at her. Elsie shares a wink with me, and I just know I’m dangerously close to falling for this big, gruff cowboy who pampers kittens.

Is it a danger? Maybe not. Maybe he’s the best thing to ever happen to me.

Around nine, Toby and Ray say their goodnights and head out to the bunkhouse. Mia does some puttering around in the kitchen before I hear her take to the stairs with a call for us to have a good night. Duke’s off locking up the house, and I actually have to give Elsie some significant looks before she gives in and flounces upstairs, too.

Duke comes back in, a shy smile almost hiding under his mustache. I approach him and tangle our fingers together.

“Thank you for letting me—us—stay.”

“Happy to have you. Stay. Here.” He clears his throat.

Adorable man. I pitch my voice low to say, “I’m happy to be had.” I kiss his cheek before sauntering upstairs. I’m confident he knows exactly what I mean.

An hour later, I realize I must not have been clear enough because
I’m still waiting
. A floorboard in the hallway creaks, and I open my eyes. Is that Duke finally coming up to bed? I stare at my mostly closed door, waiting for him to open it and mosey in.

I’m tired and a little sore in spots, but mostly I’m growing annoyed. I’d heard Duke downstairs walking around while I changed, but then nothing. And now, thanks to that loose board out there, my body thrums from the ideas my brain’s supplying for why we’ll both be exhausted and aching come morning.

I want him naked so I can slide my smoothness all over his every furry bit. That has to be first. God, I’m going to lose it completely if he’s untrimmed everywhere. I’m getting hard just remembering that hairy chest blending down into a
highway
of fuzz to his groin. I want to tangle my fingers in it all, nip and tug, pet and breathe in every scent the kinky little tendrils hold.

I stare at the door again,
willing
Duke to look in here.

Then I hear another creak farther away, the click of a door, and I realize…he’s not coming.