Homecoming Ranch (Pine River #1)

“You’re on it.” Luke casually flicked his gaze over her. Definitely a nice figure. Not too thin, curvy in all the right places. He wondered what business she had in Pine River. “The problem is, only the locals call it Sometimes Pass. It’s only a pass after the snow season. Hence the name.”


“No wonder I couldn’t find it! Would you mind?” she asked, and crowded in beside him, brushing against his arm as she leaned into her car—way in—affording Luke an excellent view of her derriere. He had only a moment to admire it before she emerged holding the map. She spread it on the hood of her car and clicked her highlighter for action. “Where am I?”

Luke pointed at the county road that was Sometimes Pass on the map.

“Aaah,” she said, and highlighted it.

She stood back, admired her highlighting for a moment, then glanced up. She seemed surprised to find him still standing there and peered up at him with those Caribbean blue eyes. “So which way is Pine River?” she asked.

A man could definitely lose his way around those eyes, Luke thought. “West.”

“And that would be…?” She pointed north.

Man, she really was lost. He pointed down the road. “That is west, the direction you’re headed. Pine River is about ten miles down.”

“Great. Thank you.” She picked up her map.

“Welcome.” He looked at those sparkling eyes again and moved to the safety of the back of the car. He discovered she had taken out the spare, the change kit, and had laid out the tools in a neat row. He took a look at the back tire that had gone flat. “Probably a nail or something like it,” he said.

“I worried about that when I drove into the construction site,” she said.

Where the hell was there a construction site around here? Luke paused to look down at the tools lined up.

“Oh, ah—I’ve been reading the manual,” she said, and hopped around him. “It says to loosen the lug nuts first.”

“Does it?” He reached for the Mickey Mouse car jack. “Not to worry. I’ve changed a lot of tires in my life.”

“Sure, sure,” she said, looking at the jack in his hand. She didn’t look as if she fully agreed with him. “I just thought maybe, since it’s a small car… you know.”

No, he didn’t know. He stepped around her, going down on one knee to slide the jack into its little sleeve beneath the car. He started to jack it up, but she was standing too close. He paused, looked up. “It’s probably better if you stand back.”

“Right,” she said, stepping back. But her feet, stuffed into her heels, were in his peripheral vision.

He removed the flat tire, then fit the spare donut onto the rim. He noticed her turn the page of the manual, as if she was following along. He secured the spare and stood up. “You’ll want to get that tire fixed as soon as you can.” He began to toss the tire change implements into the trunk. “Those donuts are definitely not made for the roads up here.” He shut the trunk, put his hands on his hips. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“I think that should do it.” She shut her manual. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Luke.”

“Luke,” she said. “Luke, thank you, so much. I’m Madeline.” She smiled gratefully, and extended her hand to be shaken.

That smile knocked Luke back a step or two. It changed her face, made her softer somehow. Her eyes shone, and her mouth—well, there were a lot of fantasies floating in his head at the moment. He suddenly wanted to take Grok’s claw from her hair and unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse.… But instead he took her hand. It felt weightless in his.

“Thanks,” she said again, still smiling, and backed up to the rail again. “I won’t keep you any longer.” She carefully pulled her hand free.

“Welcome,” Luke said, and with a weird little touch of two fingers to his brow—what the hell was that?—he added, “Take care.”

“Thanks!” She clasped her hands behind her back and stood next to her car like a cheerful little armed guard.

Luke couldn’t help but smile with amusement as he passed. He walked back to his truck, started it up again. He pulled out onto the road, drove up the road a little bit until he could turn around, then headed in the direction of Pine River. He waved as he passed her. She waved back.

A moment later, he glanced in his rearview to see what she was doing.

Blue Eyes had her map on the hood of her car and was folding it into a neat little square.





FIVE


The little town of Pine River sat at the very center of the valley, on the edge of the river for which it was named. One could see it on the descent down from the mountains, sitting in the middle of the valley like an oasis in a mountain wilderness. The town had begun as a hub for miners and ranchers, but as the mining operations had shut down, and larger ranches had consumed small ranches, Pine River had morphed into a tourist town. It was a little too far from the slopes to be a ski resort. Summers were the draw here. Hiking, white-water rafting, horseback riding, cycling, camping. Any outdoor sport a person wanted could be found here.