Lasso Her Heart

“Sure. You’ve only seen about one-hundredth of the ranch. I could give you the grand tour.” In for a penny, in for a dollar, as Mom used to say.

She looked up and down the row of stalls. “I’d need a horse that’s gentle and slow and—”

“Leave it to me,” Cody interrupted and realized he was excited about the prospect of showing off the place he loved. Maybe she’d like it once she saw it through his eyes. “Seven o’clock?”

“In the morning?”

“Best time,” he assured her. “Before the sun gets too hot.”

She sighed. “Okay, but you’d better have a thermos of hot, strong coffee in your saddlebags, cowboy.”

Cody laughed and walked with her out of the barn. They strolled toward the guesthouse in silence.

“Did you come out to the barn for a reason?” he asked as they passed the main house and waved to Honey through the kitchen window.

“I wanted to apologize and thank you.”

“For what—on both counts?”

“It was very generous of you to give up your day for me.”

“We aim to please, ma’am,” Cody said in his best Western drawl. “And the apology?”

They walked for several steps before she replied. “Look, it’s not something I want to go into, but sometimes I’m—that is, I can be a little—”

“Unapproachable?” As soon as the word was out of his mouth he wanted it back.

“I am not unapproachable,” she argued. “I may not be the constant life of the party—if that’s what you’re looking for—but I have always been open and—”

Cody held up his hands in self-defense. “That came out all wrong. Now I’m the one who’s apologizing. It’s just that at the airport and then again today, you seemed…” He mentally ran through a list of possible adjectives and rejected them all.

“Well, I’m not,” she said firmly as if he had delivered the list. They had reached the guesthouse and she marched straight to the door.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is that if this is a bad time for you, Erika and Dad would understand,” Cody explained, losing some of his own patience at the way she seemed always on the defensive. “There are at least half a dozen professional wedding planners in Phoenix and a gazillion in Chicago that they could hire.”

She wheeled around on him and in the light from the multiple windows surrounding the entrance, he could see fire in her eyes. “I am a professional,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Of course. I mean, that’s not what—”

The door to the guesthouse slammed, leaving him alone on the stone porch.

“Does this mean we are still riding tomorrow?” he called through the closed door, knowing she was still there since she hadn’t moved past any of the windows yet.

No answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Seven with gentle steed and coffee as ordered, okay?”

Silence.

“Okay. Seven-thirty but that’s my final offer.”

The lights inside went out.

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