Read Online Sunset at Keyhole Canyon: A Mustang Ridge Novella by Jesse Hayworth - Free Book Online
Authors: Jesse Hayworth
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mean you didn’t pick Rustlers’ Week on purpose?”
“Nope. Things were quiet at the shop, so I felt like I could take the week off without obsessively checking my e-mail.” E-mail. Now there was a foreign concept, along with voice mail, smart phones, video conferences, delivery schedules, and all the other things she hadn’t really missed. Stifling the thud of sadness that came with the thought of heading home tomorrow, she forced a smile. “It was either that or Singles’ Week.”
He mock shuddered. “I’m glad you went with cow thieves.”
“Me, too.” At the time, she had been steering away from the pressure of speed dates, awkward getting-to-know-you conversations, and too much focus on the opposite sex when she was looking to relax. Now, she was doubly grateful for the decision—not only had Rustlers’ Week been a ton of fun, but the schedule had let her and Ben take some time away together without it being a big deal.
Except it was a big deal, wasn’t it? They had found something special.
She only hoped it would stand up in the real world—not just on his part, but hers as well. Would she be able to handle his schedule, knowing that even if he was making an effort to be with her, there would be times he’d have to cancel at the last minute?
As if reading her mind, he let Justice’s reins drop, ground-tying the obedient gelding, and came around beside her. “Here, let me.” He took the heavy saddle from her and settled it in place, then did up the cinch with practiced ease. With her tack secure, he leaned in, lowered his voice, and said, “So . . . will you go to the dance with me tonight?”
“I . . . Ah, yes. Yes, of course I will.” It shouldn’t have flustered her—they were both going to be there, and she had assumed they would sit together, as they had the past few nights. But this was something more. It was official, though not quite their second date. They were saving that for back home.
Still, the invitation made her heart bump against her ribs and brought a flush to her skin, and made her wonder what, exactly, he had in mind.
His teeth flashed. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
Chapter Eight
There was no reason for Ben to be nervous as he headed up the stairs to Nina’s cabin, but it felt strange to be here during daylight, strange to be in a button-down shirt, even though it was one of his favorites. It was the same one, come to think, that he’d worn on their blind date. Women tended to pay attention to things like that, right? Maybe she would recognize it and see it as a good sign. He hoped.
Or maybe—probably—he needed to get a grip.
She opened the door at his knock, expression light and happy, smoothing out his unaccountable jitters. “You’re here!” She was wearing another swirly sundress, this one a bright lemon yellow with tiny blue flowers on it, with delicate sandals in place of her boots. After giving him an up-and-down, she grinned. “You look great.”
“You too. You look . . .” He fumbled the compliment when none of the old standbys felt right and he couldn’t come up with anything better. Not now, with his senses suddenly full of her. “Here, this is for you.” He offered the pretty purple wildflowers that he’d picked for her, just a single sprig because it had seemed right at the time. Now he thought he should’ve gone with an armload of the things.
Her smile widened as she took it, touched it to her cheek. “Thanks. It’s beautiful. And it’ll be a nice reminder once we’re . . . you know.”
Back home
. “I know.” He didn’t want to think about it, though. Not yet. Crooking an arm, he tipped his head toward the dining hall. “Shall we?”
Dinner was a whirl of food, laughter, and the solid vibe of the friendships that had formed over the course of the week. Most of them probably wouldn’t last past the airport or a couple of e-mails after, but that didn’t make them any less real right now, any
“Nope. Things were quiet at the shop, so I felt like I could take the week off without obsessively checking my e-mail.” E-mail. Now there was a foreign concept, along with voice mail, smart phones, video conferences, delivery schedules, and all the other things she hadn’t really missed. Stifling the thud of sadness that came with the thought of heading home tomorrow, she forced a smile. “It was either that or Singles’ Week.”
He mock shuddered. “I’m glad you went with cow thieves.”
“Me, too.” At the time, she had been steering away from the pressure of speed dates, awkward getting-to-know-you conversations, and too much focus on the opposite sex when she was looking to relax. Now, she was doubly grateful for the decision—not only had Rustlers’ Week been a ton of fun, but the schedule had let her and Ben take some time away together without it being a big deal.
Except it was a big deal, wasn’t it? They had found something special.
She only hoped it would stand up in the real world—not just on his part, but hers as well. Would she be able to handle his schedule, knowing that even if he was making an effort to be with her, there would be times he’d have to cancel at the last minute?
As if reading her mind, he let Justice’s reins drop, ground-tying the obedient gelding, and came around beside her. “Here, let me.” He took the heavy saddle from her and settled it in place, then did up the cinch with practiced ease. With her tack secure, he leaned in, lowered his voice, and said, “So . . . will you go to the dance with me tonight?”
“I . . . Ah, yes. Yes, of course I will.” It shouldn’t have flustered her—they were both going to be there, and she had assumed they would sit together, as they had the past few nights. But this was something more. It was official, though not quite their second date. They were saving that for back home.
Still, the invitation made her heart bump against her ribs and brought a flush to her skin, and made her wonder what, exactly, he had in mind.
His teeth flashed. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
Chapter Eight
There was no reason for Ben to be nervous as he headed up the stairs to Nina’s cabin, but it felt strange to be here during daylight, strange to be in a button-down shirt, even though it was one of his favorites. It was the same one, come to think, that he’d worn on their blind date. Women tended to pay attention to things like that, right? Maybe she would recognize it and see it as a good sign. He hoped.
Or maybe—probably—he needed to get a grip.
She opened the door at his knock, expression light and happy, smoothing out his unaccountable jitters. “You’re here!” She was wearing another swirly sundress, this one a bright lemon yellow with tiny blue flowers on it, with delicate sandals in place of her boots. After giving him an up-and-down, she grinned. “You look great.”
“You too. You look . . .” He fumbled the compliment when none of the old standbys felt right and he couldn’t come up with anything better. Not now, with his senses suddenly full of her. “Here, this is for you.” He offered the pretty purple wildflowers that he’d picked for her, just a single sprig because it had seemed right at the time. Now he thought he should’ve gone with an armload of the things.
Her smile widened as she took it, touched it to her cheek. “Thanks. It’s beautiful. And it’ll be a nice reminder once we’re . . . you know.”
Back home
. “I know.” He didn’t want to think about it, though. Not yet. Crooking an arm, he tipped his head toward the dining hall. “Shall we?”
Dinner was a whirl of food, laughter, and the solid vibe of the friendships that had formed over the course of the week. Most of them probably wouldn’t last past the airport or a couple of e-mails after, but that didn’t make them any less real right now, any
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