Heart of the storm, p.7
Heart of the Storm, page 7
“Yup.” Rowan backed up so fast she knocked the cutting board to the floor and then tipped the stool over when she went to pick it up. “Yup. Good to know. But for now, there’s lots going on, and we need to get your house up and ready, and I’ve got to keep this place running like clockwork.”
Amber’s laugh stopped her rambling. “Wow. The women in New York would eat you alive.” She smiled, and this time the seductive look was gone. “I’m messing with you. I’m not interested in dating anyone. I’m not even interested in just sex right now. You’re right; I’ve got way too much on my plate. More than you know. But you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
Rowan rested her head on her forearms on the counter. “Well. Now that I know you’re going to kill me, at least I can prepare.”
Amber patted her shoulder. “I’ll try to make it a fun way to go. For now, I’ve got some things to do on my computer. What time should I be ready for tonight?” She bit her lip. “Actually…I don’t think I have anything to wear. And since the rental car is still stuck at the house…” She sighed, her shoulders falling. “I’ll work it out.”
“Hold on.” Rowan pulled out her phone. “Hey, it’s Rowan. No, no, Fury is fine. I have a weird favor to ask. A friend of mine needs a lift over to the mall to get some threads for the harvest festival, but she doesn’t have a car right now. Would you mind—” She held the phone away from her ear at the response. “Great. I’ll let her know.” She shook her head and put her phone back in her pocket.
“You got me a chaperone?” Amber looked a little bemused. “I’ve never gotten in a car with so many strangers before. You couldn’t take the time away?”
“She’s a client actually. The one you saw riding the other day. Jess will help you get set up. Better than I could anyway.”
Amber’s eyes darkened a little. “Somehow, I doubt that.” She backed up, and her expression eased. “Thank you. Really.” She turned and ran up the stairs. “See you soon.”
Rowan washed the lunch dishes and looked down at Shift. “We’re in trouble.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amber turned sideways and admired the way the skinny jeans fit. Jessica had been a lot of fun to hang out with and would have been a massive hit in New York. Amber had even invited her to come visit when she was finally out of here and back home. She’d been a little disappointed to find out that no one really wore cowboy hats and cowboy boots to the festival. Here, those really were mostly for work around the farms or ranches. She’d seen a lot of baseball hats, although there was no way on earth she’d be caught dead in one. What was the point in spending two hundred dollars getting your hair done if you were just going to pull it into a ponytail and hide it under a hat? No thanks.
But the black, long-sleeve T-shirt with the compass logo had spoken to her, along with the puffer vest that hugged her curves just right. Paired with the calf-high black boots with a three-inch block heel, she felt a little more like she could fit in. Jessica had been so sweet and full of light and laughter, making Amber feel a bit old and more than a bit jaded. When she’d relaxed after realizing that Jess wasn’t going to judge her like some socialite, they’d actually had a lot of fun.
“Hey, Amber?” Rowan called from downstairs. “I’m heading over to the barn if you want to come along.”
Amber put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. She’d asked herself several times throughout the day why she doing this. Why get to know these people at all? Why bother going to festivals and dinners? She wasn’t going to be here very long and would never see them again.
She sat on the edge of the bed. Was that true though? Who knew when she’d get back to New York. Or anywhere other than here, for that matter. She blinked back tears when she heard Rowan’s footsteps on the stairs. She dabbed at her eyes, pasted on a smile, and opened the door. “I’m coming. Just wanted to make sure I looked country enough to fit in.” She grinned, hoping to take some sting out of it, though it was also kind of true.
Rowan looked her over, and her jaw clenched before she looked away. “Yup. You look…right.” She turned and waved for Amber to come with her. “Others will be waiting on us.”
Somewhat deflated at Rowan’s response, Amber shrugged and closed the door behind her. “If you show up a little late, it gives you the opportunity to make an entrance. And you’re the boss. Surely they don’t expect you to be on time.”
They stopped at the front door, and Rowan held open the soft new ankle-length jacket Amber had also bought today. She slipped her arms in and fluffed her hair so that it hit Rowan’s face.
“Being on time shows respect.” Rowan slid into a brown leather jacket that looked supple and soft. “My time is no more important than theirs just because my name is on the deed. Sounds like none of your parties ever get started on time if everyone is trying to make an entrance. I like things to be punctual and steady. I like knowing people can count on me to keep my word and be right there beside them.”
They started off toward the barn. Amber wasn’t sure what to say. It was true, parties rarely started on time, and everyone did want to get noticed. “It’s just the way things are, I guess.”
“Same here.” Rowan shot her a quick smile. “Just the way it is.”
Amber stopped and stared. “That’s a barn?” The three-story building was a beautiful deep red with white trim and enormous open doors, where she could see firepits glowing in a long line between rows of tables in the dim light, as well as a kitchen at the back.
Rowan looked at it critically. “Well, it’s what we call the barn. It was one, once upon a time. Then we converted it into a small restaurant, but it’s mostly the staff who use it now that the main restaurant for the clients has been built. The few staff we have who live on site have places around the back, and they hang out often. And we use the barn for get-togethers like this one.”
Amber followed her inside and took in the wood-paneled walls, the slate flooring, and the big chandelier hanging from the center of the room. In the city, it would have been too kitsch to be tolerated but here, it was just right.
“’Bout time.” Pam waved from her place in front of the barbecue. “Ribs or steak?”
Amber grimaced. “Salad? Fruit?”
Rowan squeezed her shoulder and then headed off to talk to other people, and Amber felt like she’d been left alone at the ball.
Pam motioned with the spatula. “Well, there’s pumpkin in the pie, and that’s a fruit. There’s potato salad over there, but I have a feeling that isn’t what you were hoping for.”
“Not really, no.” Amber took in the table full of food. “If I eat any of this, I won’t fit into my jeans tomorrow.”
“Guess we’ll just have to make sure you don’t have to wear them.” Pam winked and then laughed when Amber raised her eyebrows. “Just sayin’ it would be an option.”
“I think I’ll pass on food now so I can have something at the festival.” On any other day, in any other place, she’d have been on Pam’s offer like an heiress on a diamond necklace. But her life was complicated enough, and Rowan’s obvious discomfort with the idea made her extra hesitant. The miniscule connections she was making here were the only ones she had in life. She didn’t want to mess that up.
Pam shrugged. “You’re missing out, and it’s not like we couldn’t put some meat on your city-girl bones.”
The words had barbs that Pam couldn’t possibly know about, but Amber felt them all the same. “Yeah. Maybe.” She looked around for someone else to talk to.
“We could take that tour right now if you wanted to.” Pam set down the spatula and wiped her hands on a dishtowel beside the barbecue.
“Could we do it tomorrow? I’m a little tired from a long day, and I think I’d like to just stick around here.” Amber gave Pam her best fake apology smile and fluttered her lashes, hoping to keep her from getting frosty.
“Sure, no problem.” Pam turned away and fixed herself a plate of food. “Come on. I’ll introduce to some of the others.”
Surprised at the easy flow of her response, Amber’s shoulders relaxed a little. They sat at a long table that could probably have fit twenty people, and Pam did just as she said she would. There was plenty of banter and talk about family, and Amber found she was content to listen instead of being the focus of attention for once. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about the grandparents she’d thought dead all this time. After a little while, she got up to get herself another glass of water.
“Going okay?” Rowan asked as she walked up beside her.
“It is.” Amber took a sip of water and looked at Rowan over the glass. In the house, she hadn’t taken the time to really look at her. Now, in the dancing firelight, Amber looked her over. Without her hat, her short hair was styled so it swept forward on one side, a piece falling over her forehead. Her shirt, a dark blue plaid, was buttoned to the second button, showing a black T-shirt beneath. An eagle belt buckle caught the firelight and drew Amber’s gaze lower, to thick, muscular-looking thighs in relaxed jeans, with simple black boots.
Rowan cleared her throat, and Amber slowly lifted her gaze.
“Given our conversation earlier, that’s a mighty unfair way to look at a woman.” Rowan’s voice was raspy, her tone low.
“I’m not dead, just not available. Looking is allowed.” Amber’s knees went weak when she met Rowan’s dark gaze.
“Looking like that could lead to more than looking.” Rowan stepped back, and her expression changed completely as she looked over Amber’s shoulder. “Is it time?”
Rowan’s ranch manager, Ted, slung his arm around Amber’s shoulders. “It’s time. You ready for the ride of your life?” he asked Amber.
Her gaze flicked over Rowan. That would be the ride of my life. “Sure am.”
Rowan shook her head, blew out a big breath, and turned. “Hey, everyone. Time to head out. Remember your blankets and gloves.”
“Blankets?” Amber frowned. “What for?”
Ted turned her gently toward the back of the barn, where everyone else was filtering out a rear door. “Come see.”
Amber looked over her shoulder at Rowan, who stood watching them go with her hands stuffed in her pockets, her expression unreadable. “Are you coming?”
Rowan nodded slowly. “Right behind you.”
Amber turned back and stopped abruptly when they exited the rear door. “Seriously?”
“Deadly serious. This is our tradition, and now that you’re here, you’re part of it. Up you go.” Ted tapped his hand on the step stool.
“Ookay.” Amber climbed onto the step stool and accepted someone’s hand as she stepped onto the bed of the truck. Pam grabbed her waist and steadied her as she made her way between bales of hay and took a seat beside her. “We’re going on an actual hay ride.”
Pam twirled a piece of hay in front of her. “Three trucks. Two for everyone involved with the ranch, one for all the pumpkins we’re entering into the contest.”
Amber had forgotten the pumpkin carving. “I thought you were doing that tonight.”
“We did it a little earlier today. While you were out shopping, I think.” Pam nudged Amber’s boot with her own. “Nice choice.”
Amber felt the heat rise to her cheeks. At least someone had noticed. “Thank you.”
“Believe me, I should be thanking you.” Pam reached behind her and pulled a thick blanket forward. “You’re going to want this. The ride isn’t long, but it’s cold.”
Any other time, any other place. Instead of sharing it, Amber tucked it around her legs, leaving no room for confusion about whether or not Pam’s hands were welcome to wander under the blanket.
The truck rumbled to life, and Rowan jumped up and took the seat opposite them. “Let’s go!” she called out, and all three trucks began to move.
Amber didn’t miss the quick look she gave Pam, who seemed to give an innocent one back. Soon though, sexual tension took a backseat to laughter and teasing as trucks from another farm joined theirs, creating a convoy of music and mirth.
“Fred’s farm didn’t start doing the hay rides until we did, and now it’s a rivalry to see who has the most people and how many pumpkins we’re bringing to the festival.” Rowan’s shoe touched Amber’s, and she grabbed her hand to steady her when the truck hit a pothole. “We win every year, but it’s all done in fun anyway.”
Emotions were difficult things, in Amber’s opinion. They often didn’t make sense, so holding onto the ones that did was something she’d become good at. Sarcasm, snark, and a sense of superiority got her through most days. This…this was something else. Sure, she could sit there and make rude remarks, or at least think them, but it was hard to do in the face of people having such a good time and seeming genuinely happy.
It wasn’t long before the sounds of the festival rose above the rumble of the trucks and the laughter around them, and she was strangely disappointed it was already over. People piled off, and Rowan jumped down and turned. She held up her hands, her eyebrows raised in question, and Amber smiled and nodded. Rowan put her hands around Amber’s waist and lifted her down easily.
“Thank you,” Amber said, looking up into Rowan’s eyes.
“Uh huh,” Rowan said, barely seeming to breathe.
“You guys need to move that little scene, or I’m not gonna get my pumpkin into the judging section,” Pam said, nudging Rowan’s shoulder with her knee.
“You mean you’re going to miss your chance to woo this year’s judge,” Rowan said, letting go of Amber’s waist and stepping away.
Pam jumped down and placed a sudden kiss on Amber’s cheek before backing away from the truck with a cheeky grin. “For luck!” she said, then turned and jogged off to the other truck where people were unloading their pumpkins.
“Jackass,” Rowan muttered.
“So,” Amber said, turning and trying not to show that the kiss had disconcerted her, “show me what a hay ride leads to.”
Rowan laughed and waved the way forward. “My pleasure.”
The rest of the night was a whirlwind of new things. She watched Rowan toss rings around bottles like an expert, watched her shoot water into a clown’s mouth like a novice, and then watched her throw a baseball at a metal plate until it dropped the poor sap in a box into a pool of water, for which she was awarded a giant dinosaur with googly eyes and a goofy smile. She presented it to Amber with a bow. “Consider it your first gift from the Willows.”
Amber hugged the stupid thing to her and tried to blink away the inexplicable tears.
“Now.” Rowan pointed to another booth. “It’s your turn. If you can toss anything other than your hair, that is.”
Amber pushed the dinosaur into Rowan’s chest. “You doubt me?”
Rowan shrugged slightly. “I mean, I doubt you need a whole lot of eye-hand coordination in the city.”
Amber picked up the five darts. “Have you ever tried to cross a Manhattan city street while drinking coffee? Or tried to read during rush hour on the subway while wearing four-inch heels?” She threw the darts in quick succession, popping all five balloons in seconds. The carnival guy rang a bell and offered her a choice of stuffed animals. She pointed and then traded Rowan the cute dog for her dinosaur. “If you squint, it looks a little like Shift.”
Rowan held it out, looking a little bemused. “I’m usually the one who gives, not the one who gets.”
Amber couldn’t help it. “Is that so?” she asked, her lips quirked and eyebrow raised.
Rowan looked around. “I need to sit.”
“Wimp.” Amber laughed. “Didn’t you tell me about some dessert I had to try?”
Rowan rubbed her hand over her face and tapped Amber on the head with the stuffed dog. “Yes, I did. Come on.” She led the way past other stalls where people were trying to win things they wouldn’t have wanted to buy in a store and past more food stalls with long lines to the very end, where three stalls were set up by one company. “Kentucky bourbon pie is something that’ll make you sad you weren’t born and raised here.”
Rowan smiled and chatted with the people around them as they waited, and Amber simply watched, taking it all in. People glanced at her, included her in tidbits of conversation, but otherwise, she was just another person in the crowd. It was an odd feeling. She didn’t like being part of the background normally. She wanted to be noticed, because being noticed meant you were someone, and when you were someone, you could climb the ladder, just the way she had. When no one noticed you…what was the point of existing?
“Hey,” Rowan said softly, touching her elbow. “You okay?”
Amber smiled. “Fine.”
“I wanted to know if you wanted me to order for you or if you want to choose.” Rowan’s gaze was searching, like she knew Amber wasn’t quite okay.
Amber looked over the menu. The pie was the main thing, but the toppings list was daunting. “Dazzle me.”
Rowan grinned and ordered. They moved to the pick-up area, and she looked over. “Really. Are you okay? Is all this just too weird for you?” She motioned as though to take in the whole festival. Their number was called, and she held up her finger. “Hold that thought.” She grabbed their tray and then led the way to an empty table away from the crowd. They sat, and she set a dessert in front of each of them. “Now. You were saying.”
“I wasn’t saying, actually.” Amber poked her spoon at what looked like a sugar coma in a bowl. “Tell me what this is again?”
“Pecan pie, basically. But with chocolate chips and bourbon. I’ve got vanilla ice cream on mine, and you have coffee ice cream on yours. I’ve noticed how much you like your coffee.” She took a big bite and closed her eyes. “The best in the state.”
Amber took a much smaller bite of hers, and the sugary, nutty taste flooded her tastebuds. She took a much bigger bite, this time with ice cream. “I don’t think I’ve ever had coffee ice cream this good. And I was raised on Morgensterns.” At Rowan’s blank look, she said, “The best ice cream in Manhattan.”
