07 It Had to Be You Read online

  But even he knew it was far more than that. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

  They had an overnight storm that left everything clear and glistening. The weather turned warm, almost hot. Stone came back, looking relaxed and much happier than he had when he’d left. And when their next guests arrived, the family members spent the first afternoon getting reacquainted with each other and handling the evening chores with gusto, falling in love with the puppies, two of which they claimed.

  And late that night, when the guests retired to their rooms, Jake stood in the yard in the dark spring night, restless and unsettled.

  “How are you holding up?”

  He turned. Callie stood there looking at him. “Better now,” he said, and she smiled.

  But then it slowly faded. “You only have a week left,” she said.

  “I know.”

  She searched his gaze for a long moment, as if trying to make a decision. “You might not realize this, but there are still a few things you haven’t experienced out here.”

  “Is that right?” Suddenly feeling a little less restless, certainly a lot less alone, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her close. “What’s that?”

  She hoisted the fishing poles she held in her hand.

  He laughed. “That’s definitely not what I had in mind.”

  “You have something against fishing?”

  “Uh…not specifically.”

  “Okay then.” She handed him a fishing pole. “Let’s hit it.”

  He wanted to talk to her about the offer for the ranch, about how he felt about leaving, but he looked into her face and asked, “Where to?”

  “Funny thing about fishing, we need water.”

  “You mean the river?”

  “Well, I don’t mean my shower.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “We’re not going to get shot out there tonight, Jake. Look, I’m not going to be afraid and nervous and pissed off all the time. I want to live how I want to live, and so much is changing—” She pointed at him with the fishing pole when he opened his mouth. “I know, I can’t stop change, but I sure as hell can be in charge of my own destiny. And tonight my destiny is fishing by moonlight, which I don’t think is asking too much. So.” She drew in a deep breath. “Yes or no?”

  “Yes. To whatever you want.”

  “Now there’s a dangerous promise.” She led him past the hay barn and turned right, toward the first low rocky hill across the pasture.

  “No horses?”

  “I need to walk.”

  So they walked. The way was lit by the incredible sky, which felt so close and bright, Jake wanted to reach out and grab a star. Soon they came to the trail he’d taken on horseback many times now, so he knew exactly where the river curved alongside it, running parallel.

  They walked side by side in the warm evening, their fingers brushing together. He took hers in his and smiled down at her. “You going to take advantage of me out here?”

  She eyed him over. “I don’t know. It’s dirty and the ground is hard. There are bugs.”

  He laughed. “I haven’t given you those complaints in a while now.”

  “You ever been skinny-dipping?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He sighed with remembered pleasure. “Me and Emma Peters. Good times.” He laughed again when Callie yanked her hand out of his, and he grabbed it back. “We were thirteen.”

  Slightly mollified, she gave him a cool look as she left the path and headed down to the river’s edge. “I’m not thirteen.”

  “For which I’m eternally grateful.” They sat there, surrounded by rocky hills and bush, utterly isolated and alone, and yet unlike the last time they’d been out here, he felt no danger. The opposite, actually. This place, which he’d often thought so strange and stark and other-worldly, now felt as good a fit as the woman next to him.

  She pulled a small jar of bait from her pocket and loaded her hook. The smell made his eyes water. “Baby,” she called him, and loaded his hook for him, then rinsed her hands in the water. She stuck her pole in the damp, soft earth, between her knees, lay back on the ground, and stared up at the sky.

  He did the same. They stayed like that for a long time, their bodies touching, the night all around them, and a peace filled him, a warm, soothing, soft peace. A little startled, he turned his head and found her looking at him.

  Turning on her side, she propped her head up with her hand. “What’s the matter?”

  He turned on his side, too, having just realized the truth. He was falling for this amazing, different landscape. He was falling for the ranch and the people on it. And he was falling for the woman in front of him. It was just enough to make him momentarily speechless as the blood roared in his head and his bones liquefied.

  “Jake?”

  He started to shake his head—couldn’t she see he was having a heart attack?—but she leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “Don’t feel like talking?” she murmured. “That’s okay. I have something else we can do to pass the time.” She set aside the fishing poles, and slid into his arms. He closed them tight around her and held on like she was his next breath, his lifeline. Because she was.

  They walked back, talking, smiling, and in Callie’s case, feeling much more relaxed than she’d been before she’d jumped Jake’s bones on the riverbed by moonlight. Their clothes were a little rumpled, and she was fairly certain she had river sand in places where there shouldn’t be any, but she could live with that given how good she felt.

  When they came into the yard, the big house was quiet and dark. Oddly enough, Michael’s truck was parked behind Callie’s Jeep, and her cabin lights were on. She frowned. “I wonder what’s wrong for him to come out here this late.”

  Then her door opened and Michael stepped out onto the small square porch. He lifted his hand to shade his eyes from the glare of the porch light and looked across the yard to where they stood. “There you are,” he called out. His voice was filled with relief, and a forced good cheer. On his face was a misery that tore at her.

  She turned to Jake. “I’d better go see—”

  “Yeah.” He took her fishing pole.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not a problem.” He leaned into her and gave her one soft, warm kiss. He pulled back, looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her again, just a little longer this time. “Thanks for the fishing. And everything else,” he added silkily.

  She bit back her dreamy smile and watched him go, then walked to her cabin. “Hey you,” she said to Michael. “Everything okay?”

  “Come talk to me.” He held open her door. “Please?”

  “Sure.” She stepped inside, where she stopped and gasped in shock and surprise. There were candles everywhere, along the floor, on every countertop, on her coffee table, and in each windowsill, all lit and flickering fiercely. In addition, rose petals had been scattered on every surface of the small cabin, filling the air with their strong scent.

  “For you,” Michael said, and shut the cabin door.

  She turned in a slow circle, absolutely stunned by the amount of time he’d spent putting everything together. He took her hands, looked down at them, at her fingernails still lined with fish bait. “It was the only way I could think of to tell you what I should have told you the day we met, and every day since.”

  Oh, God. “Michael—”

  “Callie, I love you. I’ve always loved you, through your entire short and stupid marriage to Matt, a man who never appreciated you, through you working your fingers to the bone for that tyrant Richard—”

  “He wasn’t a—”

  “Through all this fantasy you’ve had of buying this place—”

  “Wait a minute.” She tried to tug her hands free but he held firm. “What do you mean, fantasy? Michael, I’m serious about buying this place. I filled out your loan papers—” She stared at him, a funny feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. “I filled out your loan papers and kept asking you about t