She grinned. “I’ll bet you were one!”
Reese felt heat tunnel through him as her blue eyes danced with sudden joy. There was a heated, yearning connection alive and throbbing between them. He could feel it and he knew Shay sensed it as well. He smiled. “Guilty as charged. My dad is still a Boy Scout leader to this day. I’d like to think I watched and learned a lot from him.”
“You’re a natural-born leader,” Shay said, smoothing down the front of her rumpled lavender granny gown. “I knew that the moment I met you.”
“It’s pretty much trampled and gone,” Reese warned, leveling with her. Talking to Shay felt like a gift to him. To be able to speak openly to her, knowing there would be no confusion, no recrimination or misunderstandings, was like fresh air circulating through his entire being. Shay freed him in ways that he never thought possible.
Snorting softly, Shay walked over to the sink and rinsed out the glass. “It’s not destroyed, Reese.” She turned and smiled warmly at him. “Your ability to lead is underground and, I’m sure, just waiting to be tapped and used again.”
“You do hold out hope for the hopeless, don’t you?” he teased, falling beneath her radiant smile. She had an arresting mouth, well defined, her lower lip a bit fuller than her upper lip. How Reese wanted to drown in that smile of hers by taking her to his bed and loving her. His dreams were torrid. Realizing he was seeing the real and spontaneous Shay Crawford, he felt himself melting into his tortured and fractured soul, that smile of hers so damned healing and beguiling. He saw her smile deepen.
“Always.”
“Well,” Reese murmured, holding her gaze, “you need to take that heartfelt passion and apply it to yourself, Shay. No one deserves support and encouragement more than you do.” He saw his huskily spoken words touch her deeply, sudden moisture brimming in her large blue eyes. She was trapped with a parent who was always striking the frightened young girl that still lived within her. Everywhere else, Reese saw the woman living out her passionate vision for all of them. If only he could somehow release her from Ray Crawford’s talons. If only . . .
Chapter Nine
Shay could barely contain herself as she served coffee and cookies to the gathering at the kitchen table the next afternoon. At the head of the table was Maud Whitcomb. Next to her, Steve, her husband. Reese sat next to Steve. She took the seat across from the wrangler, her heart pounding with excitement.
“Shay, we’ve had a few conversations before about your ranch and your dream of makin’ it a place for military vets to heal,” Maud said.
“That’s right,” Shay said, giving her a warm look. “And you’ve been instrumental in helping me to make it happen because you’ve been helping them years before I arrived back home.”
“So now we’re taking on a new project. Steve and I see it as a positive evolution of your vision for the Bar C.”
Steve, who had already met Reese, said, “We’re having an arena-raising instead of a barn-raising.”
Reese opened his portfolio and lifted his head. “Is everyone ready to get started?”
Steve opened his binder. “Let’s get to it.”
Shay followed along as the two men hammered out the time line and the details on the raising of the roof on the arena. They were all business, and she liked that they got along well with one another. Maud followed along and occasionally made comments or asked a question. Mostly, it was the two men creating the plan. At a certain point, Shay stood and brought over fresh coffee, filling everyone’s mug. She was excited and felt such pride over how Reese adroitly led the conversation and guided Steve into the areas that needed to be discussed and resolved. He was a true leader—quiet, listening fully, and able to incorporate good suggestions from Maud and Steve.
“Okay,” Steve said with a smile over at Reese. “We’ve nailed this down. Nice work, Reese. You’re a man who has an eye for detail and that’s what a project like this takes.”
Maud nodded, giving Reese a pleased look. “You’re everything and more than what Shay told me the other day at Kassie’s. Obviously, far more than an accountant.”
“Thanks, Maud. I enjoy working on big projects like this.”
Maud rubbed her chin. “Shay? Have you thought about enlarging this project a bit? We know that you have a three-room bunkhouse. Word is out that you’re wantin’ to expand and build on more rooms.” She gave her husband a warm look. “That got Steve and I to thinkin’ about this other project of yours.”