Read Online Reclaimed by Jennifer Rodewald - Free Book Online Page B

water.
    “Did you know this is spring fed?” Paul twisted in his saddle and spoke over his shoulder.
    “I did.”
    “It originates on your property.”
    “The spring?” Suzanna pushed a low branch so it wouldn’t catch her face.
    “Yes.”
    Rock Creek bubbled up right here on her dad’s land. Might explain some things. “Is that why all my neighbors want it?”
    Paul grinned. “Not all. Let’s just keep that clear because I’m not wearing a helmet.”
    What a rip she must have been. Poor man. “Not you, of course.”
    “Right.” His hat bobbed with precision as if they’d settled something vital. “Yes, that’s why they want it. You hold senior water rights. Seems that’s become a concern.”
    “Has it always been a concern?”
    Paul reined back, waiting until Suzanna’s horse caught up with him. “Not always.”
    “I didn’t think so. Dad never spoke of any issues.” Suzanna scanned the property—or what she could see of it from the creek’s depression. “He loved it here. Loved the land, the charm of small-town life and the opportunity. Intrusive neighbors don’t figure into the picture. Made me jump to some conclusions about my own welcome.”
    His hand rubbed against his jeans. “I’m guessing they were something along the lines of chauvinistic cowboys and small-town snobbery.”
    Suzanna tipped her head. “Something like that, yes.”
    “Well, I can’t say those conclusions were all wrong, but they weren’t dead on, either. Rock Creek has its fair share of jerks, just like anywhere else.”
    Nodding, Suzanna pictured Chuck Stanton. Calculating, intimidating, and selfish. Yep, jerk about summed him up.
    “Where exactly are you from, Suz?”
    She glanced at him again, glad he continued to rescue her from the mental images that stirred her anger. “Fort Collins, mostly. I lived in Greeley for a while.”
    Paul looked surprised. “I assumed Denver. Mike talked about going to Denver the few times he went to Colorado.”
    “He did go there a couple of times. My sister lives in a suburb. Have you been?”
    “A few times. National Western Stock Show over a few scattered years. When I was a teenager, I used to go as often as I could. Life changes though, and the city doesn’t call to me anymore.”
    Suzanna pictured Paul taking the wide sidewalks of downtown under his long stride. He’d fit, actually. His strong profile and compelling good looks, complemented by the cowboy boots and hat, would make him blend. Until he opened his mouth and one discovered he wasn’t numbered among the urban cowboys. No, Paul and the city would not be long-term companions.
    “It used to?” she asked.
    He smiled. “It took me a long time to grow up, Suz. I had some strong opinions about myself and this town that seemed incompatible.” He cleared his throat. “The truth is, I was pretty much incompatible with just about everything and everyone in my life, and it was a long, tough road before I discovered the problem was mine, not everybody else’s.”
    Suzanna leaned back in the saddle, comfortable in it. Comfortable with Paul. “That sounds like the overture to a story.”
    Paul laughed. “Such a gherkin.”
    “Gherkin? Why?”
    “ Overture ? Fancy talk for a simple country boy.”
    He chuckled again, and she grinned.
    “I’ve always had a fondness for words.”
    Paul ducked under a branch, holding his hat in place. The trees thinned on the trail ahead, and the ground heaved. The top of the hill sat barren of timber, and the grass swayed under the late morning sun. He guided them through the last of the trees to a body of water at the base of the hill. In a pool twenty feet wide, water rippled against the silt banks before it tumbled lazily down the creek path. A current bubbled near the center—the spring.
    “Here it is,” he said. “The source of the creek. Maybe of your troubles, too.”
    Maybe. Water rights were a big deal in Colorado. It wasn’t hard to believe they’d be an issue here