It Had to Be You: Special Bonus Edition with free novel Blue Flame (Lucky Harbor) Read online

  The rain still came down, and Callie shoved her hair out of her eyes to see. Then she did the same for Smithy, looking down into his face. “What’s hurt?”

  “Nothing. Just…can’t…swim,” gasped Smithy.

  Jake had dropped to his knees, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. “Then you should stay the hell away from water. Jesus, you weigh a ton.”

  “Yeah.” Smithy sat up, looking shaken. “Sorry about that.”

  Callie couldn’t believe it. “You put us all in danger with that stupid stunt.” She sagged back on her heels and stared at him. “I don’t even have words for you.” She crawled over to Jake and put her hands on his arms, blinking through the rain to see his face, which, as she’d imagined, was full of pain. “Oh, Jake. Tell me what to do.”

  He shook his head. She’d have sworn he was sweating, though the air was cold, the water even colder, and they were all soaked to the bone. “Can you ride?”

  “Yeah.” He staggered to his feet with her help while Smithy just sat on the ground still looking stunned. “Help me,” she hissed at him.

  But once Jake was on his feet, he shrugged them both off. “I’m fine.” He strode to the horses, and with a scathing look at Smithy, Callie followed him. Tongue was terrified, and it took her a moment to calm him down enough so Smithy could mount.

  Callie had a wool blanket in her backpack, which she got out. Jake mounted his horse before she could help him and then refused the blanket. Stupid male pride, she thought. Smithy apparently had no pride and quickly wrapped himself in the blanket without asking if there was another one for her.

  Disgusted, she mounted Sierra. All the horses were snorting and puffing, and stomping uneasily. She didn’t blame them. She took one good long look at Jake through the curtain of rain but his face was a mask of stone. Good enough, she thought. She turned to look at Smithy, who looked miserable, huddling in his blanket as the rain pelted him. Not good enough.

  “Careful,” Jake said to him. “It’s going to be slippery going.”

  “And rocky,” she added. “You’ll stay in the middle and do as you’re told.”

  “Yes,” Smithy said meekly. “Uh, you don’t by any chance have a beer—Or not,” he muttered when she glared at him.

  They rode back with the wind and slashing, freezing rain beating them up. Halfway there, darkness fell, an utterly complete blackness relieved only by the rapid flashes of lightning that seemed to be right over the top of them. Though she could ride back blind-folded, and so could the horses, Callie pulled out her flashlight so she could keep checking on Jake and Smithy.

  “I’m fine,” Jake told her every time she blinded him with the light, and she figured he wouldn’t sound so irritated if he wasn’t fine, so that eased her worry a bit.

  “I guess the guys are all warm and dry by the fireplace,” Smithy muttered at one point.

  “No doubt,” she said. “Probably eating a hot meal, too.”

  He looked so sad at this news, she almost felt sorry for him, until she once again glanced at Jake. No matter what he said, his jaw was tight with pain, his body tense. Smithy’s stupidity had cost him the most. He could have dislocated his shoulder, or been swept downstream.…People died out here every year being as stupid as Smithy had been today.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, making her realize she’d spoken aloud, and this time, she could tell he meant it.

  When they got out of the canyons, they no longer had to ride so closely together. Jake nudged his way close to Callie, letting Smithy get a little ahead. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

  “I was just going to ask you the same thing. You holding up?”

  “I’m good.”

  She studied his face but it was dark, and he was giving nothing away. “Close call, huh?”

  He let out an agreeing grunt that said she didn’t know the half of it.

  “You saved him, Jake.” She voiced the fear she’d been dwelling on. “What if you weren’t used to such heroics, or if you couldn’t swim? Or if you hadn’t been so quick? I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”

  He reached out and touched her wet face. “You could have. You would have.”

  She stared through the dark at him. Today had created a bond she hadn’t counted on, and deepened the one they had, whether she liked it or not. “You’re really not hurting?”

  “Actually, yeah. I am.”

  Her heart stopped. “Want to stop so I can massage it?”

  His teeth flashed. “Wouldn’t you like to know where I’m hurting first?”

  That should have pissed her off. Instead, she laughed. “You know what? Maybe I don’t.”

  Again the flashing teeth, and then he shifted in his saddle. “Christ, how do you do this day in and day out? My parts are so chafed they’re going to fall right off.”

  Unbelievably, she laughed again, and when Smithy shot her a hurt look, apparently thinking she was laughing at him, she only laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” she gasped.

  “Stress,” Jake said to Smithy, who nodded seriously.

  Callie just shook her head, the laughter having relieved much of it. Jake’s presence did that, too, she realized. Finally, they came out of the hills, crossed the plain, and saw the lights of the ranch wavering through the night. The three of them stopped side by side to look at it together. “I’ve never seen a more welcome sight,” she said.

  Jake didn’t say anything, and she remembered—it wasn’t a welcome sight to him, and what had happened today had in all likelihood just cemented that for him.

  Eddie and Tucker were waiting for them in the barn and took care of their gear and horses. Stone escorted the exhausted Smithy inside and saw to it that he got a hot shower and food.

  “You, too,” Tucker told Jake and Callie. “We’ll finish up in here. Go.” He gestured with his chin to the open barn door. The light spilled out into the night, highlighting the glittery silver curtain of rain that still came down.

  Jake didn’t argue. He took Callie to her cabin. She opened her door, then put her hand on his chest. For a moment his heart leapt, thinking she would invite him in to take care of him—not that he needed it, but a little fawning would cheer him up considerably. She blocked his way, however. “Go get warm,” she said, then shut her door.

  He stood staring at it for a moment, then sighed.

  In his cabin, he took a long, hot shower, letting the steaming water beat off his various aches and bruises. Damn, working the land and playing host to a variety of new people, some smart, some not, week in and week out was infinitely more exhausting then he could have possibly imagined.

  He wasn’t sure when it had sunk in—possibly when Smithy had nearly drowned them both—but this ranch was more demanding than any job he’d ever had. In fact, this was more than a job, it was a way of life.

  He’d have sworn he had the most demanding, unpredictable, difficult job he could think of, but a month out here, and he had to admit he’d been wrong.

  He’d always assumed if he ended up here because he couldn’t work, that would make him a loser, but the only thing that made him a true loser had been assuming that the ranch’s way of life was somehow less than his.

  The hot water finally dispelled his bone-deep chill and he got out of the shower. He took a good long look at the narrow, hard cot waiting for him as he pulled on warm, dry clothes. Outside the storm raged. He figured only an idiot would go back out. He stepped into the pouring rain anyway and went to Callie’s cabin. He could tell himself she’d been pale and shivering, and he wanted to see that she’d gotten warm and dry, but that was bullshit. He didn’t want to be alone.

  She didn’t answer his knock, and when he opened her door, no one was there. “Damn it, Callie.” He headed toward the big house, getting wet and cold—again—crossing the grass because it was faster. Through the rain, Goose came running at him, honking her alarm and annoyance, but he just bared his teeth.

  She stopped so short she nearly tipped