Dare to be Dirty (The Dirty Girls Book Club #2) (15 page)

She’d pretty much reached that conclusion herself, but she appreciated the gesture. And yes, she was curious. About the ranch, about what a horse whisperer did, about his house.

Oh-oh.
A thought occurred to her. Did he live with his parents, the way she did in Hong Kong? She couldn’t have sex with him if his parents were nearby.

Kim was so engrossed in thought, automatically following the flow of traffic in the slow lane of the highway, that she almost missed her exit. Now, as she headed onto a smaller road that cut through farmland, butterflies took up residence in her stomach. Normally, she loved butterflies. These ones, not so much.

She tried to ignore them as, slowing periodically to consult the straightforward map Ty had e-mailed her, she headed toward spectacular mountains. The few white clouds clustered around the peaks were the only break in the vivid blue sky. For the first time, she really took in the scenery: flat fields planted with crops she didn’t recognize, then fencing, and now cows. Black cows. Odd; she thought of cows as brown and white. These were healthy looking, their coats glossy under the sun, the same color as her hair. They could use color streaks to liven them up.

A carved wooden sign said R
ONAN
R
ANCH
. The logo was the two Rs she’d seen on Ty’s truck, the first one backward with its spine resting against the second, normal R. The sign looked old, probably a memento his parents had saved from their Alberta ranch. Under it hung newer wooden slats attached to heavy chains: P
UREBRED
A
NGUS
one read, the next was H
ORSE
T
RAINING,
and the third read O
STRICHES,
L
LAMAS,
A
LPACAS,
A
NGORA
G
OATS.

She stopped in front of a gate made of wooden bars, with a sign reading P
LEASE
C
LOSE
G
ATE
A
FTER
Y
OU!
The gate to Ty’s world.

She opened it, drove through, and latched it behind her. What was that saying from
The Wizard of Oz
? You’re not in Kansas anymore? Well, she, who was at home in Hong Kong and Vancouver, with people and buildings all around, felt like she
was
in Kansas, and it was a very foreign place.

With trepidation, she drove down the road. On the side she’d come from, there were more cows. The black creatures must be the purebred Angus, Ty’s dad’s ranching project.

On the other side of the road, a half-dozen horses ran over to the white-railed fence and kept pace with her car, their ears pricked forward, looking curious. She’d admired the horses she saw at the rodeo. These, free and beautiful out in nature, were so much more aesthetically pleasing than the chunky, placid cows. Not that she’d say that to Ty’s dad, much less anything about color streaks.

Not that she was likely to meet Ty’s dad, or so she hoped.

The road led toward the foothills of the mountains. The countryside rolled gently now, and there were more trees. It was so huge and empty, but for the horses. Impressive and lovely in its own way, but a little scary for someone who’d always lived surrounded by other people.

It made her think of the book club book, which she’d tucked in her bag in case she had time on her hands while Ty was working. Marty Westerbrook had described the land she rode through as vast and awe-inspiring, and so was the scenery outside the car window. The journalist had felt that the humans in the landscape were small and insignificant. Yes, from the air, Kim’s red car would look no bigger than a ladybug, and she’d be one small black spot. Marty had found the perception of vastness and insignificance comforting in an odd way.

Kim shook her head. No, it was just disconcerting.

Of course Marty could ride, and she’d been in war zones. She was brave, skilled, and versatile. Kim, on the other hand . . . Hey, wait a minute. She’d been brave enough to leave her home and parents and eagerly face a new life in Vancouver. She was skilled and versatile when it came to art, and here she was, an artist in a new world, with lots to take in and admire. This world might be foreign, but it could be a great stimulus to her creativity. Too bad she hadn’t brought sketching materials.

There were buildings coming up, on the same side of the road as the cows. Ty had said she’d see the ranch headquarters, and she took in a couple of big barns, a small building labeled O
FFICE
, and several other buildings, all looking neat and functional. Set farther back was an attractive two-story house, painted green with white trim, bordered with colorful flowers. A couple of trucks were parked near one of the barns, and several people dressed in jeans and cowboy hats clustered around the back of one, unloading something.

As Ty had instructed, she kept driving, still accompanied by the running horses.

On the horse side of the road, she saw a fenced ring with a couple of horses in it, and a smaller barn. Up on a rise, tucked among scattered trees, sat another attractive two-story house, this one made of unpainted logs. Newish logs. Ty’s house. Had to be. That was a relief. A porch ran the length of the front, with a handful of padded wooden chairs and a couple of little tables. Did Ty sit there at the end of the workday with a beer, and watch the horses run around as the sun set?

Everything he would see, and far past his line of sight, was his. He’d bought this huge piece of land with rodeo earnings. His achievement was impressive.

Her parents owned apartment buildings in Hong Kong and Vancouver, buildings where land was scarce and tiny homes nestled side by side, stacked in rows. Their property holdings were dense; Ty’s were the opposite. She and he truly were from opposite worlds.

She felt a weird little pang, almost as if she wished things were different. But that was ridiculous, and she brushed the thought away.

As Kim pulled the smart car to a stop, Ty emerged from the barn, leading two horses. A quick rush of pleasure went through her. He was the perfect cowboy, fit, muscular, and totally at ease with his body in faded jeans, a straw cowboy hat, boots, and a shirt the same color as his jeans, its neck open and sleeves rolled up. Vivid memories of last night—of that fine body naked and slathered with paint—heated her blood.

Quickly he tied the reins to a rail, then came to meet her as she stepped out of the car. “You’re here.” He caught her up in an exuberant hug, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around. When he put her down, he said, “No problem finding the place?”

A little breathless from being swung, not to mention the flood of sensations—his outdoorsy male scent, the feel of those strong arms, the tingle that raced across her skin—she managed to say, “Not at all.”

He leaned down to kiss her and she came up on her toes to meet him. The kiss dove deep and fast, and when they finally broke apart she was entirely breathless and the tingles rippled through her body.

Fifteen

I
see you washed off the paint,” Ty said, “but you didn’t get all of it.” He fingered a few strands of her hair.

“That was intentional!” she protested.

His eyes danced. “Never can tell with you, painter girl. I like it.”

“Thanks.” She gave a mischievous grin and reminded him of his joke last night. “You don’t think it will scare the horses?”

“No, they have good taste. Speaking of which, nice tee. Butterfly?”

She nodded. “Eastern Tailed Blue.”

“Pretty.” With a touch of hesitation, he went on. “So you’ve seen a bit of the spread from the road. What do you think?”

“I’m a little stunned. It’s like something in a movie. I can’t believe you actually own all this.”

“Guess it is pretty different from what you’re used to.”

“Ty, it’s like you own a small country. Like you could be completely self-sufficient.” She paused. “Though I guess, from what you said about the ranch in Alberta, having land doesn’t really make for security.”

“This land and ranch are more versatile.”

“I remember you saying the ranch doesn’t rely just on cattle. What do you mean about the land being versatile?”

“We could grow crops if we wanted. Mom has a big vegetable garden, and fruit as well. She’s got enough chickens that we have fresh eggs and chicken.”

“
Ew!
You actually kill and eat chickens?”

He chuckled. “Dad does. What’s the matter, don’t you eat chicken?”

“Sure. Right down to the feet. But never one I met when it was alive.” She grinned. “Okay, silly distinction.”

“Uh-huh. Anyhow, we could raise pigs, sheep, pretty much anything we wanted. As it is, we barter with neighbors.”

“Wow. The only plants I’ve ever grown are in pots. And I’ve never even had a pet.”

“No?”

“Who had time? Mom and Dad were busy building their company. And you’ve heard of the whole ‘tiger parents’ thing, where there’s pressure on the kids to succeed academically? That was true in our house, with the expectation that I’d join Chang Property Management and end up running it when they retire. Or, more likely die, because I don’t think either of them wants, or knows how, to stop working.” A sudden chill made her shiver, and she glanced at the sky, to see if a cloud had blocked the sun. No, the only clouds in sight were the puffy ones clustered around the peaks of the mountains.

“How did you get into art?”

“Early on, a teacher told my parents I was one of the most artistically talented students she’d seen. That made them proud because art is valued in China, as it is here. They sent me to lessons and encouraged me to work hard at it, but with the idea it would be a hobby, because my future lay with the company.”

“You’ll show them.” He rested his hand on her shoulder.

“Sure hope so.” She shivered again. If she didn’t come up with a brilliant plan very soon, she’d be stuck joining CPM. But Ty’s hand warmed her and distracted her from her worries. No, she wouldn’t panic, or let worry spoil today. If she opened her mind to ideas, the right one would come along. “Are you going to take me on a tour?”

“You bet.” His arm came around her shoulders. “Let’s start with the barn.” He guided her across the yard as she scrutinized the ground, making sure she didn’t step in anything nasty. They moved out of the blazing sun into the cool, shady building, which had an odd, but not unpleasant scent: a little musty, a little grassy, with a touch of leather and animal.

He showed her horse stalls, saddles and bridles and other horsey stuff, and a tool bench, everything neat and well maintained. In an area near the door a few jackets, shirts, and cowboy hats hung on hooks, and there were cowboy boots and gumboots lined up below.

“There should be stuff here that fits you,” he said.

“I’m fine.” She glanced down at her multicolored sneakers. They were supposed to be washable, but she’d just as soon not test that by stepping in horse shit. “Maybe I could use a pair of boots.”

“And a long-sleeved shirt and a hat. The sun’s fierce.”

“I put on sunscreen.”

“Humor me.” He picked up a straw hat and put it on her head, adjusting the angle.

His concern was sweet, so she gave in. “Okay. But who do these clothes belong to?”

“There’s some kids who live nearby whose families are having a tough time. The children don’t get much chance to just be kids, and they do love to ride. They bike over when they can, and I get them what they need.”

“That’s nice of you.”

A few minutes later, outfitted like a cowgirl, she followed him out of the barn. The boots felt stiff and clumsy; if she walked very far, she’d blister.

Ty headed over to the two horses he’d tied up. They were pretty animals, strong and sleek in the sun. One was sand-colored, with a dark face, mane, and tail; the other, smaller, was a lovely gold with a platinum mane and tail.

“The tan horse,” she said. “Is that the one you rode for the roping event?”

“Yeah, that’s Desert Sand.” He touched the horse’s nose gently with his knuckles, then stroked his neck. “And the palomino is Dawn.” He gave her a pat as well.

Kim eyed the horses but didn’t step closer. They might be pretty, but they were huge. And strong. Children rode them? “The kids are coming to ride?”

“Nope, they’ve been and gone. Reminds me, you like trout?”

“Trout?” The change of topic confused her. “You mean the fish? I’ve never had it, but I like fish.”

“One of the kids caught a mess of trout in the river this morning and brought me a few.”

“Great. So who are the horses for?”

A slow grin creased his face. “Me and you, cowgirl.”

“What?” She took a hasty step backward, tripping in the unfamiliar boots. She would have gone down on her butt if he hadn’t caught her arm. “I’m not going riding, Ty.”

“Sure you are.”

“But I’ve never been on a horse.” Nor had the slightest desire to.

“I kinda figured. Dawn’s sweet as pie and has such smooth gaits, you’ll think you’re in a rocking chair.”

She glanced up, taking in the blond horse’s powerful shoulders and hindquarters, and the leather saddle perched between them. “That doesn’t look like a rocking chair to me.”

“Say hi to her. Make friends.”

“How?”

“Come up slowly by her shoulder, no sudden moves. Wait ’til she turns her head and eyeballs you. You want to make sure a horse sees you, so you don’t startle it.”

Gingerly, she stepped toward the horse, not convinced of the wisdom of any of this.

“Don’t be afraid. Some horses, horses that’ve been mistreated, you need to be real careful with, but not Dawn. She likes people.”

The horse bobbed her head in Kim’s direction as if agreeing, her ears forward and what Kim would swear was friendliness in her huge dark eyes.

“Talk to her in a soothing voice. Say hi, tell her your name, tell her she’s a pretty girl. Hold your hand out nice and easy. Smell’s important to horses, and she wants to get your scent. Let her sniff you.”

Kim did as he said, and felt the warm puff of the horse’s breath against her hand. Then Dawn nodded again, and butted her nose gently against Kim’s hand.

“She likes you,” Ty said. “Stroke her neck and shoulder.”

She stroked, tentatively at first, then with a little more pressure, enjoying the feel of the firm, warm skin. “You really are a pretty girl,” she murmured, “and your skin’s so smooth.”

The horse turned her head and bumped Kim’s shoulder with her nose, as if she was encouraging her. This was hardly scary at all. “What a lovely name you have. Dawn. A sunshiny dawn, right, girl?”

Ty touched Kim’s shoulder and nudged her away from the horse. “Here, take these.” He had untied Dawn from the rail and now he pulled the reins up over her head. He offered Kim the two reins, gathered near the horn of the saddle and knotted at the ends to hold them together.

“I’m not sure,” she demurred.

“You’ll enjoy it. Give it a try.”

She took a deep breath. Ty wouldn’t let her do something dangerous. He’d look after her. Besides, she didn’t want him to think she was a coward. “Okay, what do I do?” She reached for the reins with her right hand.

“Other hand. Hold the reins, and with the same hand grab ahold of the horn.”

“At least you’re not making me ride bareback,” she tried to joke.

He chuckled. “We’ll leave that for another day.”

“Another day in another lifetime.” She gripped the reins and horn. “Now what?”

“Right hand on the back of the saddle. Put your left foot in my hand and I’ll give you a boost. Lift yourself up, swing your right leg over the saddle, then put both feet in the stirrups.”

To her surprise, she managed it easily. Compared to some of her yoga poses, swinging onto a horse was a snap.

Ty studied her. “Stirrup length is right. You want the ball of your foot on the bar of the stirrup, and keep your heels down. Hold on to the horn if you want to.”

“Okay.” She clutched the horn.

“Good.” He flashed that contagious smile of his, then untied Desert Sand and swung lightly into the saddle. “Dawn will tag along with Sand. If you tighten up on the reins and shift your weight back, she’ll slow down or stop.”

Kim nodded, though she was skeptical. Surely nothing she did could stop Dawn. She’d be pitting her hundred pounds against what? A thousand?

“Then let’s take the grand tour.” Ty gave some signal she didn’t catch, and his horse began to walk across the barnyard. Desert Sand lifted his tail and deposited a pile of droppings, the earthy scent filling the air and making Kim hold her breath. It didn’t faze Dawn, who followed close behind.

Kim focused on the unfamiliar saddle and the horse’s motion, getting the feel of everything. She studied Ty’s posture, the graceful way his body moved with the horse’s rhythm like they were a single being, and tried to copy it. She might not have Marty Westerbrook’s riding skill, but this wasn’t a cattle drive.

They were on a trail that went past the log house. Ty turned to her. “My place, which you’ll see later.” He dropped a wink. “Especially the bedroom.”

Oh, yes, she was looking forward to that. It would be her reward for wearing a weird hat and boots, sitting atop a giant animal, and smelling horse shit. “I like the house. It’s fairly new?”

“Yeah. The spread you drove past, the house, barn, and outbuildings, were on the land when I bought it. When my folks moved out from Alberta, we all lived in the ranch house. I hadn’t lived with my folks since I was seventeen, and it was pretty awkward. Built this house, the barn. Gives me a place to work with the horses away from the other stock.”

“I saw the black cows when I drove in. Those are your dad’s Angus?”

“Yup, but call them cattle rather than cows. Beef cattle, to be specific, as compared to dairy cattle.”

“What’s a cow then?”

“A female that’s calved.”

“Really? What are the rest?”

“The adult males are bulls or steers. Bulls haven’t been castrated. Females are heifers until they calve.”

“And the babies are calves, right?”

“Yup, though there are more specific terms for different ages of calves.”

“That’s complicated.”

“Bet you artists have a dozen names for red, right?”

She nodded. “Good point.”

“The one you used on me last night is my favorite.”

“Mine too.” They exchanged a grin. Every time she used that color, she’d remember how it looked on his naked skin. Hopefully, that would inspire rather than totally distract her.

They’d ridden into the trees and the path was dappled shade rather than brilliant sunshine. Dawn wasn’t a rocking chair, but her slow, steady motion was kind of soothing. Kim let go of the horn and took a deep breath. The air smelled so fresh and, somehow, green.

They came to a fence and Ty stopped his horse, turning it to face back the way they’d come. Dawn fell in beside.

“This is the boundary of Ronan Ranch. The bulk of our land is on the other side of the road you drove in on. It’s the land we use for the Angus and the specialty stock. On this side, there’s a narrow strip. It’s my turf for the horses.”

“Narrow” meant something different to him than it did to her. Out here, everything was painted on a grand scale.

She gazed across the rolling land dotted with trees, then up toward the mountains they’d slowly been heading toward. There wasn’t a soul in sight, and no sign of civilization except the fence. Yes, it was a little scary, and a lot impressive.

She’d never related to landscape painting, as the worlds she’d occupied had been urban and confined. Now she was getting a better idea of what inspired people to try to capture such natural grandeur. Sheer admiration of the beauty and scale of it, in part. But partly too it might be an attempt to . . . not own it, because no one could. To make it your own in some small way, to interpret it, to feel part of it.

Yes, she could imagine bringing watercolors and creating her own vision of this very foreign world. Ty’s world, where he looked utterly at home. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s spectacular.”

“It’s different than what we had in Alberta. I like the contours of the land, the trees. The mountains are a nuisance because they make for changeable weather, but they’re damned easy on the eyes. Beats staring out at acres and acres of flat land.”

She nodded. “In Vancouver, you can always see the mountains. And the ocean. It’s great.”

“Wouldn’t have minded buying a ranch by the ocean. But I’d have had to rodeo another ten years to afford it. That would’ve been okay by me, but Mom and Dad were dying in those shit jobs in Alberta.”

“You’re a good son.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I turned into a decent one.”

He was a good guy, period. It was amazing no woman had snapped him up. “I don’t think there’s any surfing in Vancouver, but you could drive to the beach.”

“Seems the only time I leave the ranch, it’s to rodeo or do business.”

“Not last night,” she pointed out, thinking how yummy yet out of place he’d looked when she lifted her umbrella and first laid eyes on him on Davie Street.

“That was special.” He shifted his horse closer, rested a hand on Kim’s jean-clad thigh, and leaned over to kiss her. His lips tasted of sunshine, a hint of sweat, and sexy male.