Lasso Her Heart. Anna Schmidt
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city. The sense of being a part of God’s world rather than trying to fit God into the human world.
No, Bethany didn’t strike him as a nature lover. She’d thought she was packing for Chicago with all its theaters, art galleries and shops. Now that he thought about it, she had really seemed to come alive the closer they got to Phoenix. It was on the way back that she’d gone silent with every mile they traveled across the desert and into the foothills, leaving civilization in the dust.
Blackhawk shifted and gave an indignant whinny as if reading his thoughts.
“You think maybe we could change her mind, Hawk?”
The horse flung his massive head from side to side. Cody laughed. “Yeah, go ahead and pretend you understand what I’m thinking. I’m not buying it.”
“Do you always talk to the horses?”
Cody dropped the brush as Blackhawk repositioned himself for a view of the intruder. Bethany took an involuntary step back.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Cody said, retrieving the brush and moving out of the stall to stand next to her.
She pointed to Blackhawk. “Is that your horse?”
Cody nodded, trying to gauge her mood. “Do you ride?”
She smiled. “I have ridden—as a little girl. My uncle had a farm in Virginia. But it was a pony. Nothing like this guy.”
“Horses come in other sizes,” Cody said. “In fact,” he continued, “I was thinking we might go for a ride tomorrow.” No, you were thinking about NOT going for a ride.
“Really?” In the shadows cast by the low work lighting it was hard to read her expression, but her voice registered doubt.
“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.
Chapter Four
Bethany waited in the dark until the sound of his boots crunching the gravel on the path assured her that Cody had left. She was still smarting from the remark he’d made about Erika finding another wedding planner—a professional wedding planner. What did he think she was?
Okay so the emphasis on the word had been hers, but why include it at all unless he was making a comparison? Cody Dillard might fool some people with his aw-shucks, ma’am charm, but she wasn’t buying it. He had been raised with the best that money could buy and when it came to choosing goods and services, she was sure that he preferred name brands. Admittedly, in the world of event planners, she wasn’t exactly a household word.
Well, she would show him. She wasn’t some ditz whose only reason for working was to earn more money to spend on clothes and hand-beaded purses. He’d obviously based his opinion of her on false—well, maybe not completely false—information. But there was more to Bethany Taft than he knew and bright and early tomorrow he was going to meet the professional businesswoman.
She was so wrapped up in jotting notes and ideas for Erika’s wedding and planning her strategy for her next encounter with Cody that it was well after midnight when she finally fell into bed. And it was dawn before she realized that she had failed to close the drapes that shut out the range of mountains framed in the wall of glass.
But she could hardly ignore the red-orange glow that woke her the following morning. She was anything but a morning person, and yet Bethany sat up and watched in fascination. The arc of the sun’s orb seemed to ascend the dark side of the mountain range until it had conquered the mountain and moved on to chase shadows from the desert landscape, backlighting giant saguaro cacti in the process. She was intrigued by the way the silhouettes of the cacti resembled people waving or gesturing as if in conversation with each other. It gave her a new idea for the party invitations.
When Cody arrived on Blackhawk at seven-thirty, he was leading a second horse. Bethany took special delight in his surprise at seeing her sitting on the porch of the guesthouse dressed and waiting for him. She flung the last of her coffee over the railing and set the mug on a side table as she pulled on leather gloves and the hat he’d given her.
“Good morning,” she called with just the right amount of cheer and professionalism. She glanced at the extra horse—a small palomino that side-danced impatiently as Cody swung down from Blackhawk still holding the reins. “And this is?” Bethany asked, approaching the horse that up close seemed far too high off the ground to be successfully mounted.
“Thunderbolt,” Cody replied, handing her the reins. The shadow cast by his Stetson made it impossible to tell if he was smiling, but Bethany was certain that he was.
Gingerly