Saving Trace Read online

  Grabbing the first thing handy, a large metal horse statue, he crept from the bedroom down the short hallway. He was holding the horse over his head, ready to strike out, when he spotted Emma at the stove.

  The floorboard must have creaked under his weight, because she chose that moment to turn around. Her eyes widened and then she started laughing at him.

  He frowned and set the statue down on the table. “What are you doing here?”

  “Were you really going to beam me with that?” she asked, turning back to the stove without answering him.

  It was then that the smell of warm bread hit him, causing his stomach to growl out loud.

  Walking over, he glanced over her shoulder and felt his mouth water at the large platter of coffee bread she was cutting into.

  “Did you bake that?” he asked, moving aside as she pulled two plates from the cupboard.

  “No, my mother did. My dad suggested I bring it over so you could get an early start.” She placed a piece on each plate. “Coffee’s almost ready.” She motioned to the coffee maker. “Why don’t you pour?” She set the plates on the table and then glanced up at him. Her eyes widened slightly and then ran over him slowly before she chuckled. “Scratch that. Why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll pour?” Her voice was a little breathless as she moved around him.

  Suddenly, he realized he was standing in the kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Disappearing quickly, he put on a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt and pulled on his worn boots for good measure. He’d promised her father that he’d be ready first thing that morning to learn the ropes around the ranch.

  Hell, he’d lost track of time playing last night and had forgotten to set an alarm that morning. What time was it anyway? He glanced at the clock and realized it was only half past six in the morning.

  What time did ranch life start anyway?

  When he stepped out again, she was sitting at the table, looking down at her cell phone.

  “If you give me your number…”—she glanced up at him— “we can get a hold of you.”

  “I don’t have one,” he admitted. He sat down beside her and took a sip of the hot coffee.

  “You don’t…” She frowned. “You don’t have a cell phone?”

  He chuckled. “Some people don’t need them.”

  “Who?” She shook her head. “People over a hundred?”

  He laughed and then took a bite of the warm coffee bread. “My god, this is good,” he said, changing the subject.

  “That won’t do,” she continued. “I have an old one I can reconnect for you. I’ll bring it over later tonight after I get back from work.”

  “I don’t need it,” he started, but she glanced up and narrowed her eyes at him. Something told him that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  “The ranch is a big place. If someone needs to get a hold of you, it’s the easiest way.”

  “Can’t you just send up smoke signals or whistle?” he joked.

  When she remained silent, he set his fork down and looked up at her. She was watching him carefully.

  “I believe that was a joke,” she said. She smiled when he continued to sip his coffee.

  “Thanks for the bread,” he said when his plate was empty. Walking over, he set the dirty dishes in the sink. “I’ll have to stop in and say thanks to your mother.”

  “She’s heading into Tyler today with Rick.” Emma sighed. “It’s the reason she didn’t bring it over herself. They’re checking Cooper’s place out.”

  She bit her bottom lip, but after last night, he wondered if she’d changed her mind about her brother moving away. When she didn’t say anything further, he walked over and took her empty plate and mug for her.

  “You still have a week before he moves,” he reminded her.

  “Right.” She raised her chin slightly and then met his eyes. He could see the determination behind those green eyes before she stood up and shook off the mood.

  “You should have fun today.” She changed the subject quickly. “When was the last time you rode a horse?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I was hoping to ride one of those four-wheelers instead.”

  She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”

  He thought about it. “Once, when I was shipped off to summer camp when my mother was in...” Her dark eyebrows shot up. “When she went into rehab,” he finished quickly.

  “That settles it.” She pulled out her cell phone and punched send on a message.

  “What?” he asked when she was done.

  “I’m staying and teaching you how to ride today. I’m having Mal fill in for me at work.”

  “You don’t have…” He stopped again when she glanced up from her phone and gave him a look. One that every boy born in the south knew too well. “Thank you,” he said instead with a smile.

  Chapter Ten

  Emma watched Trace and Bart, her brother’s horse, as they raced around the corral. They appeared as if they had been working with each other for years instead of only half an hour.

  The man was built to ride on the back of a beast of a horse, which Bart certainly was. Only everyone in the family knew that he was a big softy.

  She found herself daydreaming about Trace while she watched his hips move in the saddle and wondered how she was going to keep her mind on anything else when she was around him. Or, for that matter, even when she wasn’t around him.

  “That’s it. Stay light in the saddle,” she called out, encouraging him to keep going in circles.

  “Shouldn’t we work on going in a straight line now?” he called back. “I think he has mastered taking me in circles.”

  She chuckled. “Not until you have galloping down.” She was leaning against the fence, watching Trace and Bart, when her father came up behind her. She’d convinced her dad to allow her to work with the pair since he had a few calls to go out on that morning. Being the only vet in a small town hadn’t been a demanding job. He had a crew of others that worked for him in the small clinic in town that he’d inherited from his father. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was almost nine.

  “I think the pair of them have had enough of the corral. Why don’t you take Sugarplum out and show them how to ride fences, since you’ve decided to play hooky today.” He nudged her shoulder. “Both of them look like they’re going stir crazy,” her father added softly.

  She glanced over and realized both Trace and Bart were bored out of their minds. She had only wanted to make sure that Trace felt comfortable in the saddle. Seeing him now, she realized he was more skilled than most on their first day of riding.

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  “Take the west pasture,” her father called out to her as he started walking towards the house. “I’m going to change and take the east side. We’ll start tomorrow morning with the calves.” He stopped halfway to the house. “Oh, and Em, make sure you take a lunch.” Her father’s eyes moved to Trace. “He looks hungry.” He turned and disappeared into the house.

  She’d overheard her mother last night telling her father that she was worried that Trace hadn’t been eating enough before he’d come to them. Her mother had used the words seriously underweight. Emma agreed, especially after seeing him in nothing but a towel and his boxers that morning. Not that her mouth didn’t water at the sight anyway, but she agreed he could use to gain a few pounds.

  “I will.” She turned back to watch Trace. “Looking good. Now bring him in.” She waved the pair over.

  She knew that Bart was probably better trained than Trace, and when the horse stopped a foot from her, it was most likely all his doing, but still, she encouraged Trace about his progress.

  “The horse is doing most of the work,” he admitted, holding the reins the way she’d shown him. “He’s obviously been around the corral a time or two million.” He leaned forward and ran his hand over Bart’s smooth gray neck.

  “You’ve been given the go-ahead
by the boss to take him out,” she said, nodding towards the fields. Trace’s eyes moved up to where her father had just disappeared into the house. There was a little uncertainty in his eyes, but she could tell that the eagerness to stop doing circles won out. “So, what do you say to riding fences with me and Sugarplum?”

  “I’m game,” he answered with a slight tilt of his head. She’d lent him her brother’s hat and had to admit, the man looked damn good in a black Stetson.

  She held up her hand when he started to bend down to lift the gate latch. “First I’m going to head in and pack us a lunch for later. Then we’ll head out. Until then…” She made a circle motion with her finger and had Trace groaning and Bart letting out a low snort.

  “See, even the horse doesn’t want to do circles anymore,” Trace complained as he set Bart in motion with a nudge.

  When she came back outside after packing a lunch of sandwiches and snacks and a thermos of coffee, the pair had stopped and were waiting outside the barn. Her father had both her horse, Sugarplum, and his horse, Gabriel, saddled and ready to go as he talked with Trace.

  “Ready?” She stopped next to Sugarplum and attached the satchel of food to her saddle. She’d taken plenty meals to go like this and knew that they would need water and treats for the horses as well. Walking over to the barn, she grabbed a few bottles, including two for her father.

  “You always forget,” she added, sticking them in his saddlebag.

  “Thanks.” Her father had already climbed atop his horse. “Be safe,” he warned. “It’s spring. Snakes and—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved her father away.

  “Snakes?” Trace asked, watching her father disappear towards the east of the ranch.

  “Don’t worry.” She tapped the shotgun that was strapped to her saddle. “I’m always prepared.”

  “You know how to shoot that thing?” he asked as she climbed onto Sugarplum’s back.

  Instead of answering, she chuckled and kicked her horse into motion. “See if you can keep up with me,” she called over her back, knowing full well that Bart never backed out of a challenge.

  Still, knowing it was Trace’s first day on the back of a horse, she kept Sugarplum at a steady trot and Bart easily caught up with them.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Trace asked, looking around. “Do we have to rope some cows?” He motioned towards part of the herd in the far side of the field.

  “Not today,” she answered. “Today, we ride fences.”

  “Which means?” he asked, shifting slightly.

  “We ride along the fence and make sure there aren’t any breaks in it. If so, we fix them.”

  He was silent for a while. “And?”

  “And?” She glanced over at him.

  “That’s it?” The tone in his voice seemed off.

  “Were you expecting more?” she asked.

  “It’s just…” He shrugged slightly. “The movies always make it seem like there’s more to ranching.”

  She laughed. “There is, but today, seeing as it’s your first day in a saddle, we’re riding fences.”

  “Okay.” He grew silent. “How do you fix a barbed wire fence?” he asked after a moment.

  “With wire cutters.” She chuckled. “And carefully.”

  “Don’t you get… poked?”

  His questions told her that he was interested in learning the job. So, for the next half hour, as they rode along the fence line, she filled him in on all the odd jobs on the ranch. It wasn’t a particularly taxing job mentally, but life on a ranch did take its toll on you physically.

  It was still early spring and already a bead of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades. Come full summer, she would be dreaming of a cool breeze like the one flowing over them now.

  “Is that a break in the fence?” Trace pulled Bart to a halt and she stopped, glancing over to where he was pointing.

  “Yes.” She sighed, seeing the post that was lying in the tall grass.

  “Looks like it was kicked over,” Trace said, hopping off the back of Bart. He straightened up and stretched a little.

  “Most likely someone used it as a scratching post, and it fell over.” She jumped off Sugarplum and tossed the horse’s reins over the next post, making sure Trace did the same before moving over to check out the damage. After bending next to the post, she could tell instantly that it couldn’t be used any longer. The thing was completely rotted out. There was a stack of posts all the way back at the barn, but that was a fifteen-minute ride there and back.

  “Guess we’ll have to make do with that.” She motioned towards an old log near a row of trees.

  “That log?” Trace asked, stopping next to her.

  “Sure.” She walked over to her saddlebag and took out her mini axe.

  “You’re going to make a post?” he asked, falling in step with her.

  “Sure.” She stopped and checked out the log. It was sturdy and long enough to make a temporary post. “This should hold it until I can come back with a real post.” She rolled the log a few feet, checking to make sure there weren’t any snakes hiding under it before she started to swing her axe to cut it to the proper length.

  “Here,” Trace broke in after the first swing, “let me…” The look she gave him made him shut his mouth quickly.

  “I’ve got it, thanks. You can grab the leather gloves and plyers out of my saddlebag and get to work freeing the broken post.”

  He glanced back for a moment, then walked away to do just that.

  She loved swinging an axe. There was just something powerful about making a piece of wood bend to her power.

  It took less than five minutes to have a makeshift post ready. It was ugly, but in the right shape to support the barbed wire and hold it for a few days.

  Hoisting the thing over her shoulder, she carted it over to where Trace had just finished pulling off the barbed wire connectors from the damaged post.

  “What next?” he asked, tossing the rotted wood aside.

  She smiled and handed him the small foldable shovel she kept in her pack. “Now, you dig.”

  He took the thing from her and glanced down where the old post was. “How deep?”

  “Two feet should do it for now.” She walked over to grab a bottle of water. Then she sat back and watched him struggle to break the hard Texas dirt.

  It took him twice as long to dig the post hole than she had taken to cut the post.

  “You did that on purpose,” he accused her when she set the post into the hole, making sure it would suffice.

  “What?” she asked, innocently.

  “Something tells me you knew the ground was like granite.” He removed the hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Me?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

  His eyes narrowed at her. “You’ve probably been digging holes around here your whole life.” He took the bottle of water she offered him. “You need a stick of dynamite instead of this thing.” He waved the small shovel. “Who carries an axe and a shovel with them anyway?”

  “You will, if you don’t want to have to ride back to the barn each time you need to mend the fence.” She took the leather gloves up and pulled out a few new post grips and twisted them around the new post before securing the fence to it. “There.” She stood back as she removed her gloves. “That should hold it.”

  “I’d never know it had just been fixed,” he said behind her.

  “Oh, I can tell. So will my dad.” She glanced back at him. “Which means we’ll be pulling a proper post out here and doing this all over again next time we ride fences.”

  “I’ll make sure to bring a bigger shovel,” he added. “You mentioned something about bringing lunch?”

  She glanced around and then motioned to a spot a little ways away. “We can make it to that cluster of trees. There’s a small brook the horses can drink from while we eat.”

  After putting all her tools away, she jumped back on Sug
arplum and watched as Trace climbed back onto Bart. Even though she’d made him climb up and down from the horse several times in the pen, she was still surprised to see him swing his leg over the horse like a pro.

  “Impressive,” she said under her breath.

  Trace’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced over at her. “What?”

  “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” she asked as they set off towards the trees.

  “Once, back in summer camp,” he reiterated.

  “Right.” She shook her head. “I have cousins that can’t ride as well as you can already.”

  His smile was quick and sexier than she’d remembered.

  “Thanks.”

  When she felt her heart flutter, she swallowed and tried to get it to settle back in her chest. Then, she got a better idea. “I’ll race you,” she challenged. “To the row of trees.” She motioned to where they were heading.”

  He glanced over and then back at her. “If I win, what do I get?”

  Her smile grew bigger as she met his eyes. Then her heart sped up at the coming challenge.

  “Whatever you want,” she answered, before kicking Sugarplum into motion.

  Chapter Eleven

  Damn. He was in trouble. It took less than a second for her meaning to hit him. Then, as if the horse knew what was at stake, Bart jolted into full motion under him. He fumbled slightly for control of the reins and then held on as the large horse took the lead.

  When the pair of them reached the cool shelter of the trees, he was laughing so hard, he wondered how he had managed to stay on the horse’s back.

  Emma’s laughter was giving him a high he never wanted to come down from. Her horse came to a stop next to his and, before he had a chance to think, his feet had hit the ground and he’d pulled her off her horse’s back.

  Their bodies bumped and, less than a breath later, he was kissing her. She tasted like spring and when her soft body melted next to his, he wondered how he was ever going to let go of her.