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She sighed. “Okay, but you’d better have a thermos of hot, strong coffee in your saddlebags, cowboy.”
Cody laughed and walked with her out of the barn. They strolled toward the guesthouse in silence.
“Did you come out to the barn for a reason?” he asked as they passed the main house and waved to Honey through the kitchen window.
“I wanted to apologize and thank you.”
“For what—on both counts?”
“It was very generous of you to give up your day for me.”
“We aim to please, ma’am,” Cody said in his best Western drawl. “And the apology?”
They walked for several steps before she replied. “Look, it’s not something I want to go into, but sometimes I’m—that is, I can be a little—”
“Unapproachable?” As soon as the word was out of his mouth he wanted it back.
“I am not unapproachable,” she argued. “I may not be the constant life of the party—if that’s what you’re looking for—but I have always been open and—”
Cody held up his hands in self-defense. “That came out all wrong. Now I’m the one who’s apologizing. It’s just that at the airport and then again today, you seemed…” He mentally ran through a list of possible adjectives and rejected them all.
“Well, I’m not,” she said firmly as if he had delivered the list. They had reached the guesthouse and she marched straight to the door.
“Look, all I’m trying to say is that if this is a bad time for you, Erika and Dad would understand,” Cody explained, losing some of his own patience at the way she seemed always on the defensive. “There are at least half a dozen professional wedding planners in Phoenix and a gazillion in Chicago that they could hire.”
She wheeled around on him and in the light from the multiple windows surrounding the entrance, he could see fire in her eyes. “I am a professional,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Of course. I mean, that’s not what—”
The door to the guesthouse slammed, leaving him alone on the stone porch.
“Does this mean we are still riding tomorrow?” he called through the closed door, knowing she was still there since she hadn’t moved past any of the windows yet.
No answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Seven with gentle steed and coffee as ordered, okay?”
Silence.
“Okay. Seven-thirty but that’s my final offer.”
The lights inside went out.
Chapter Four
Bethany waited in the dark until the sound of his boots crunching the gravel on the path assured her that Cody had left. She was still smarting from the remark he’d made about Erika finding another wedding planner—a professional wedding planner. What did he think she was?
Okay so the emphasis on the word had been hers, but why include it at all unless he was making a comparison? Cody Dillard might fool some people with his aw-shucks, ma’am charm, but she wasn’t buying it. He had been raised with the best that money could buy and when it came to choosing goods and services, she was sure that he preferred name brands. Admittedly, in the world of event planners, she wasn’t exactly a household word.
Well, she would show him. She wasn’t some ditz whose only reason for working was to earn more money to spend on clothes and hand-beaded purses. He’d obviously based his opinion of her on false—well, maybe not completely false—information. But there was more to Bethany Taft than he knew and bright and early tomorrow he was going to meet the professional businesswoman.
She was so wrapped up in jotting notes and ideas for Erika’s wedding and planning her strategy for her next encounter with Cody that it was well after midnight when she finally fell into bed. And it was dawn before she realized that she had failed to close the drapes that shut out the range of mountains framed in the wall of glass.
But she could hardly ignore the red-orange glow that woke her the following morning. She was anything but a morning person, and yet Bethany sat up and watched in fascination. The arc of the sun’s orb seemed to ascend the dark side of the mountain range until it had conquered the mountain and moved on to chase shadows from the desert landscape, backlighting giant saguaro cacti in the process. She was intrigued by the way the silhouettes of the cacti resembled people waving or gesturing as if in conversation with each other. It gave her a new idea for the party invitations.
When Cody arrived on Blackhawk at seven-thirty, he was leading a second horse. Bethany took special delight in his surprise at seeing her sitting on the porch of the guesthouse dressed and waiting for him. She flung the last of her coffee over the railing and set the mug on a side table as she pulled on leather gloves and the hat he’d given her.
“Good morning,” she called with just the right amount of cheer and professionalism. She glanced at the extra horse—a small palomino that side-danced impatiently as Cody swung down from Blackhawk still holding the reins. “And this is?” Bethany asked, approaching the horse that up close seemed far too high off the ground to be successfully mounted.
“Thunderbolt,” Cody replied, handing her the reins. The shadow cast by his Stetson made it impossible to tell if he was smiling, but Bethany was certain that he was.
Gingerly she patted the horse’s neck. “Well, Mr. Thunderbolt, we have a lot of ground to cover this morning. Are you ready?”
Thunderbolt snorted and tossed his head, then stood perfectly still as if inviting her to mount.
“That’s my boy,” she said as she reached for the horn of the saddle and prepared to put one foot in the stirrup. Problem was the stirrup was about six inches higher than she could gracefully manage.
“Here,” Cody said, offering a bridge of his hands for her to step into.
“Thank you,” she said as she gave him her sunniest smile and accepted his help. This time his face was fully exposed as he looked up at her mounted on the horse. She took some pleasure in the confusion that was mirrored in his eyes. Whatever attitude he had prepared to deal with this morning, this one clearly wasn’t it.
“We aim to please here at the Daybreak Ranch,” he muttered as he returned to Blackhawk and fumbled with the closing on his saddlebag. He pulled out a red aluminum travel mug and held it up. “I believe you ordered coffee—strong and hot.”
The last thing she needed was more coffee, but this was business and she had requested it. “Wonderful,” she said, leaning down to accept the closed mug. She flicked the lid open and took a sip. “Just right,” she assured him as she closed the opening and tried to figure out where to put the thing.
“Here,” he said, handing her a portable cup holder. “Hook this over your saddle horn.”
She saw that the holder had been specially constructed for just that purpose. “That’s really cool,” she said and meant it as she placed the mug in the holder.
Cody mounted Blackhawk and took a swallow from the mug she hadn’t noticed on his saddle. “Ready for the grand tour?”
Thunderbolt pawed the ground restlessly. Bethany hoped the steed did not intend to prove his name was accurate. “Ready,” she replied and tried to hide her nervousness behind a sunny smile. She produced a small notepad and pen from her jacket pocket and held them up for him to see. “I hope you don’t mind if I make notes, ideas that might come to mind for the wedding events.”
Cody nodded and tapped Blackhawk’s flanks with his boot heels. Blackhawk headed around the house and Thunderbolt followed. Thunderbolt’s sudden movement made Bethany’s pen fly out of her hand as she fought to find a rhythm that would not have her rising several inches in the air and then slamming back onto the hard saddle with every step.
In minutes they had put some distance between themselves and the buildings of the ranch and climbed to the top of a small rise. Cody reined Blackhawk to a halt and turned the horse to face the view below. Thunderbolt followed suit. Bethany fought to calm her racing heart and find a position on the saddle that didn’t feel as if she were sitting on rocks.
“Bird’s-eye view,” Cody announced. “Down there is the hub of Daybreak—the house, guesthouse, stables, barn, paddock area, pastures, training corral. How about a rodeo?”
Was he serious? He certainly looked serious. “A rodeo?”
“For the engagement party here—could be a real hoot.”
“Interesting idea,” she said halfheartedly.
“Yeah. I can see it now—Erika could lasso Dad instead of a calf.”
“You cannot be serious,” she blurted.
Cody laughed long and hard. “Gotcha,” he said, pointing his finger at her.
“Very funny,” she said and even to her ears her voice sounded prim and petulant. She pretended an inordinate interest in her surroundings. “How far does your land go?”
“Far as you can see and then some.” He turned in his saddle and motioned toward the mountain range behind them—mountains that were closer now than they had been from the guesthouse. “Our property stops at the base of the mountains there.” He handed her a pair of binoculars for a closer look. “See that hollow over there just down from that first cliff? There’s a cabin there.”
She swallowed hard and peered through the binoculars, swinging them up and down and side to side until she saw the rustic cabin set into the curve of a solid granite fortress. “Very quaint,” she said, handing the glasses back to him.
“That was Dad’s first building here. When I was a kid we used to come here for family vacations and that was it. That little cabin at the base of the Superstitions.”
Bethany thought she must have misunderstood. “Superstitions?”
“The mountains—that’s the name of this range. Great, huh?”
“Perfect,” Bethany replied without enthusiasm.
“Arizona is full of unique names. That spot where the cabin sits? It’s called Bachelor’s Cove.”
“So is that where you live these days?”
Cody looked confused.
“Bachelor?” she prompted.
“Got it.”
“You’ve never married?” she asked, more comfortable now that she’d turned the conversation to focus on him.
“Nope. Never married.”
“You’re what—thirty?”
“Thirty-four.” His response was just to one side of testy. “I wasn’t aware that there was an age limit.”
She ignored his sarcasm and kept pushing. “You mean a wealthy good-looking guy like you has never even come close? The women must have been lined up at some point.”
“Close only counts in horseshoes,” he muttered and readjusted his hat before urging Blackhawk a few steps closer to the edge of the bluff.
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