Page 21 of Roughing It with the Rancher

“Well? Is that it?” I ask into the ensuing silence. “Aren’t you going to tell me hownotto get bit?”

“Typically, I’d carry something like a walking stick to hit the brush in front of me when I hike. That way, the little guy can rattle his warning. But there’s a high likelihood too much movement could bring this whole barn down on us. Then, rattlesnakes would be the least of our troubles. Fortunately, we’re both wearing good boots, which snakes shouldn’t be able to bite through. But I’d watch it because you’re traveling second.”

“Traveling second. What does that have to do with anything?”

“As the leader of this little excursion.” He groans, passing under another haphazard tepee-like structure of wood. “I’ll be the one who scares the rattlesnake. As second in the party, you’ll get the bite.”

“This adventure is getting more exciting by the minute,” I grumble.

“What, you didn’t expect treasure hunting to be easy or comfortable, did you?” He arches a quizzical eyebrow.

“So, explain to me why I’m traveling second again …”

“Because I’m the one who knows where we’re going and what we’re looking for. At least in theory. And I’m also the one who’ll suck the poison out of your leg and get you to a hospital.”

Both are sound points, although the latter is something I refuse to entertain. Catching myself in a negative thought pattern, I remember what Grandpa taught me. Stay positive, ask for what you want, and have faith in the outcome.

Under my breath, I mutter, “I am a lucky girl. The Universe loves me, and it showers me in good fortune. All the time. Even when I don’t know what to ask for, the Universe delivers.”

Reese pauses, holding up a broken slab of wood for me to pass under as we continue working our way to the back of the dark, dank, dusty barn. “Are you casting spells back there or something?”

“Nope, just reminding myself that I’m a lucky girl who has lucky things coming her way. All the time because the Universe never rests.”

Reese looks befuddled. “Huh,” he says, his eyes scanning the back wall of the structure held together by straw and a prayer. “Let’s see now. It’s been a while since I saw this. After all, the barn’s been in the midst of collapsing since at least my elementary school days. Didn’t help that I had a hand in blowing up part of it with my childhood buddy, Everett.”

“Blowing up the barn?”

Reese chuckles. “A chemistry experiment gone wrong. Be glad you’re not my f’real wife, or you’d be in for a tough time with our sons.” He winks as he says it, his lopsided grin and dimples warming me all the way to the tips of my toes.

“Your grandpa must’ve been livid,” I say, shaking my head.

“Yep, he turned the darkest shade of purple I’ve ever seen a man go, and then, he didn’t speak to me or anybody else in the family for the next month. Just stewed in the anger, simmering like an overheated kettle.”

“Sounds like you got off easy. My grandpa was a huge proponent of finding your own switch. I learned young to behave flawlessly.”

“I better never meet that man, knowing he’d take a switch to your lovely skin,” Reese growls unexpectedly.

“It’s not like he left a mark,” I excuse quickly.

“Still, anybody laying a violent hand on you, Angel? Hell, no. It makes me sick thinking about it.”

We walk in silence. Waves of anger pour off Reese as I try to sort out my tangled ball of emotions. On the one hand, I love my grandpa dearly and very rarely had to deal with his punishments. On the other hand, my chest feels warm and melty at Reese’s passionate, protective proclamations.

“And just so you know. No person will ever lay a hand on one of our kids, Esmeralda,” he exclaims, anger still coursing through his voice. “Fake kids, I mean.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his simmering words, fully aware he’s taking the marriage thing seriously. I’d be lying, however, if I didn’t admit there’s something incredibly sexy and heartwarming about the statement. “I agree, Reese. No one better lay a hand on our fictional babies.”

“Glad we see eye to eye on that, Treasure,” he drawls lazily, stopping to help me through another nearly impassable portion of the barn, lifting me over huge, splintered beams with a mouthwatering grunt.

“This reminds me of my parents’ barn after a tornado. Cataclysmic damage.”

“Fortunately, the only thing we get around here are big-ass dust devils. Sure, they can wreak a little havoc, but they’re more nuisances than anything. The vast vertical mountain ranges running along the full length of the Great Basin break up more powerful winds.”

We continue in silence. But I want to hear him speak some more, enjoying his childhood memories. “And what about your partner in crime, Everett? Does he still live around here?”

“Nope, he’s on the rodeo circuit these days, team roping. But he and I got into plenty of trouble together as kids.”

“Alright,” he says, coming to a stop near the back wall. “If my recollection is right, we’re looking for something halfway along this wall at about chest height.”

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