Vicki Thompson - Long Road Home

“Everybody’s sort of connected, aren’t they?” It sounded nice to Wyatt. Really nice.

“It’s a close-knit group. Oh, and I’m pretty sure Emily will be there. She’s the daughter of the ranch’s foreman, Emmett Sterling, and she married Clay Whittaker this past spring. He runs the stud program at the ranch. I did everybody’s nails for that wedding. Great party.”

As Wyatt had suspected, this was exactly the kind of family he’d always longed for and never had—informal and good-hearted. But they might not let him in. He quickly shoved away that thought, which was way too depressing to contemplate.

The house itself looked as massive as he remembered. The barn, corrals and other outbuildings were located down the hill to the right, and were nearly obscured this afternoon by a heavy curtain of rain.

Over the winter months, Wyatt had pried some information out of his mother about the place. When she’d moved in as a bride, the house had a two-story center section plus a wing on the right, a wide front porch running the length of the house and a circular driveway. The two medium-sized spruce trees she’d mentioned being located in the middle of the circle now stood at least thirty feet tall.

After Jack was born the family had added the wing on the left and extended the porch. On each side porch a row of rockers, shiny with rain, moved gently in the wind. Rain had flattened the plants in the flower beds on either side of the wide front steps, and water gushed from downspouts to puddle in the gravel driveway.

Both wings were set at an angle like arms flung open in welcome, and lights glowed from the windows on this stormy afternoon, inviting travelers inside. Wyatt figured some travelers were more welcome than others. And his category was still in question.

Olivia looked over at him. “I don’t think it’s going to let up. We’ll have to make a run for it.”

“You’re right.” Wyatt wondered if he could get away with dropping her off and heading back down the road. Not likely. That would force her into breaking the news that he was here and he’d look like a damned coward for leaving. “Let me pull up closer to the steps. Then you can unload without having to walk on that sloppy gravel in your nice shoes, and I’ll move the truck once you have everything out.”

“Believe me, I’m regretting the shoe decision, but at the time I was going for stylish.”

“They are that.” He put the truck in Reverse, backed up a ways and cut the wheel. Then he pulled forward and edged right up next to the steps.

“But if I’d worn sensible boots, you wouldn’t have had to haul me over to your truck.” She picked up her purse and one of the two bags.

“I enjoyed it.”

She gave him a quick smile. “Me, too.”

That comment made him bolder. “Listen, I’m not sure how this visit will turn out for me, but can I give you a call before I leave town?”

“Sure.” She zipped open her purse, rummaged around in it and came up with a business card. “My cell’s on there.”

“Thanks.” He took the pink card, which advertised the beauty salon, To Dye For, but also gave Olivia’s name and number. “I’ve toyed with the idea of relocating here.”

“Really?” Her gaze met his. “That would be nice.”

“Meeting you gives me some extra incentive.”

Her blue eyes warmed. “Good.”

He had the craziest urge to kiss her, but it was too soon, and he didn’t want to ruin everything by overstepping.

Then, to his amazement, she leaned toward him and quickly brushed her lips against his. “Thanks for rescuing me today.” She pulled right back, as if to signal it was a one-time shot.

The kiss came and went so fast he didn’t have time to close his eyes, much less reach for her. “You’re welcome.” His voice sounded a little rusty, which wasn’t surprising since he was busy processing the soft feel of her mouth.

“I’ll come back for the second bag in a sec.” She opened the door and let in a gust of wind and rain. “Man, it’s some storm!”

“Yep.” Wyatt watched as she navigated the rain-soaked steps to deposit her purse and the first bag beside the door. As far as he was concerned, it was a wonderful storm. Without it, he would have arrived at the ranch, discovered Jack wasn’t there, and driven back to either the Bunk and Grub or the bar. He might have met Olivia in passing but they wouldn’t have talked, not when she was there to create nail magic.

Instead they were well on their way to becoming friends. Wyatt was really starting to like it here. The country was beautiful, even in the rain, and the local residents, including a certain blue-eyed beautician, interested him a great deal.

Leaning back in, she grabbed the second bag. “Okay, that does it. I’ll meet you inside.”

“Right.”

She paused, and her eyes narrowed. “You are coming inside, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, but I’ll leave my muddy boots on the porch. I actually considered asking you to make my excuses, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate that.”

“Good guess. And besides, you don’t want to miss the food.”

Wyatt imagined finger sandwiches and tea cakes washed down with wine coolers. “That’s okay. Once the storm lets up, I’ll go into town and—”

“No, really. You don’t want to miss the food. See you inside.” She started to close the door but opened it again. “Can I say that you’re here? Or do you want to make a grand entrance?”

He chuckled. “Do I strike you as a grand entrance kind of guy?”

“No, but you did mention this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“That was a smoke screen. I was just too chickenshit to give Jack advance warning in case he told me not to bother. So, yeah, go ahead and announce that I’ll be in after I park the truck, but please tell Sarah I’m not planning to stay and interfere with this night of beauty she’s set up.”

Olivia looked amused. “I’ll tell her. But don’t blame me if she vetoes your decision.” Then she shut the door, ending any further debate on the matter.

Pulling carefully away from the front of the house so he didn’t accidentally take out a chunk of the wooden steps, he drove over to the area where everyone else had parked and turned off the engine. So he was here. Considering he’d met Olivia, he was glad he’d come.

But no matter what, he wouldn’t stay at the ranch tonight. He’d made it out here, and he could make it back to the paved road, too. When Jack came home from the horse show tomorrow, Wyatt would drive over and try this routine again.

A flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder that sounded like a mountain being split in two made him jump. The house went dark. Well, damn. What kind of guy marched into a house that had just lost power and announced he was taking off?

He needed to go in and find out what he could do to help before he left. Climbing out of the truck, he ignored the rain pelting him as he walked around to the rear and opened the back window of his camper shell. Fortunately his battery-operated lantern was within easy reach of the tailgate.

Lantern in hand, he sloshed through water and gravel and climbed the front steps. The cool, rain-scented air smelled of wood smoke, so a fire must be blazing inside. He unlaced his boots, toed them off and peeled away his wool socks, which were soaked.

When he came out— if he came out—he’d just wear the boots out to the truck and carry the socks. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

It opened soon afterward. “There you are!” Olivia stood holding a brass candlestick with a lit candle. She looked like an angel. “Come in. I told everyone who rescued me and they’re all dying to meet you. Well, I guess Sarah has already met you.”