Read Online The Bull Rider's Collection by Lynn Cahoon - Free Book Online Page B

work fast, he would be. But Lizzie wasn’t a jumper. She took her time making up her mind about people. After this afternoon, James knew he was on thin ice. But she had to let him in.
    Finally, there was the sign, five years the worse for wear. Hudson’s Hot Springs — relax in your very own private oasis. Cabins for Rent.
    He pulled into the parking lot he’d helped carve out of the other side of the mountain road senior year. From the look of the resort, adding the parking lot was the last improvement completed before Lizzie’s mom started the cancer treatments.
    He crossed the deserted road and stepped onto the wooden porch. The floor boards creaked under his weight. The wood-framed cabin at the edge of the road served as the guest cabin check-in, the dining room for Sunday breakfast, and the poolroom and bar for Saturday night. He knocked on the screen door, but a glance inside showed him the empty gathering room. Walking in, he examined the cabin. Perched between the pool table and a big overstuffed couch, a television that had seen better days played some robot movie.
    “Liz? JR?” James called. No answer. Their bedrooms were on the second level of this cabin, but James knew if they were up there, they would have heard him. He’d spent a few Sunday afternoons in Lizzie’s room, listening for her dad to come back into the house.
    A walk through the cabin showed him that five years had changed little. A bar ran the length of the cabin, but there were few bottles on the glass shelves. James inspected the empty glass-front fridge. A collection of Matchbox cars lined the edge of the wooden bar.
    James’s eyes narrowed. Either the supply truck ran late this week, or Hudson’s Hot Springs had seen better days. Between hikers, back country skiers and the fact that Idaho had some kind of hunting season pretty much year round, James remembered the cabins being booked every weekend as well as most weeks throughout the year. They should especially be booked for rodeo weekend.
    He walked through the kitchen to the back door. Looking through the old screen door, he saw Lizzie and JR in front of a small shed at the edge of the back yard. JR held a flashlight.
    A cat hissed at him from the kitchen cabinet.
    “Whoa.”
    The flashlight turned on the screen door.
    “We’re closed,” Lizzie called.
    “Your cat doesn’t like me.” James shoved open the screen, let it slam behind him.
    “Dad!” JR ran towards him, the light from the flashlight bouncing up and down. When he met James, he hugged his legs. “Don’t worry about Mr. Pebbles. He doesn’t like anyone. You came to see me. I told Mom and Cash you would.”
    James smiled and knelt to give his son a hug. “Of course, buddy. I want to get to know you. And Mr. Pebbles.”
    “Can I get some light over here?” Lizzie’s voice sounded short.
    “Let’s go help your mom.” James stood and, taking JR’s hand, he walked toward where Lizzie fiddled with an engine pump. “What’s the problem?”
    Lizzie wiped her forehead with her hand. “The pump from the springs stopped working.”
    He moved her over so he could get a better look. Glancing over the pump, he pointed out the problem. “Your shut off valve is stuck. Got any WD-40?”
    “JR, run into the kitchen. It’s under the sink.”
    JR took off with the flashlight, leaving Lizzie and James in darkness.
    Lizzie sat on the ground, crossing her legs into a lotus position. “I’ve never been any good with this end of things and lately Dad’s let the upkeep get out of hand. Most days he’s fishing, but he never brings home anything. I think he’s still grieving.”
    “I’m sure it’s hard on him. But, Liz, the cabins are empty? This weekend?”
    Lizzie scrutinized a spot on the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. “James, we haven’t rented out the cabins in six months.”
    “So how have you been surviving?”
    Guilt crossed Lizzie’s face. “We get Dad’s army retirement check. And … .”
    “And