Fool's Gold

Chapter 4 – A Storm's a Comin'

His stomach was killing him when he came down to the table the next morning. All that rich food! And the brandy, even though it was a small amount. He hoped Rose hadn't gone to too much trouble this morning, because the only thing he wanted right now was coffee.

No one was in the kitchen but there was a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. He found a cup and poured himself one, opening up the door to take it to the porch. He got halfway out the door and stopped, frozen in horror at how much this reminded him of the Double C Ranch. There she was again, every time he turned around recently. Why now? It had been over two years since he lost her and still she stayed in his head. He'd be fine for a few days or weeks and then she'd pop up again, just like a gopher. Bret was right about one thing; the nightmares caused by what happened in Silver Creek, Montana receded but the memories of Caroline stayed. He forced himself to take three more steps forward and he was on the porch, looking down at Rose. She was a welcome sight; she was beautiful and distracted him from memories.

"Good morning, Rose," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Bart," she answered. "I didn't know that gamblers were capable of rising this early."

"We aren't. It's an illusion we foster by staying up all night." He smiled as he said it so she'd know he was kidding.

She took him seriously, however. "You didn't . . . . "

He stopped her. "No. I was kidding. It's a bad habit I developed while recuperating. Rising early, I mean."

"I'm sure you'll get over it, given enough time."

"That's what they tell me," came his reply "Do you mind if I join you?" He indicated the chair next to her.

"Please. Father won't be up for hours. I'm afraid you're stuck with me until then." She paused to offer a suggestion. "We could go riding. Ethan can have the horses saddled in five minutes. Are you game?"

He hesitated because of his stomach but decided it might take his mind off things. "Alright. Give me a minute and I'll be back."

She smiled, set her now empty cup on the chair, and started for the barn. If she helped Ethan with the horses they could be ready in five minutes.

Bart walked back inside and went to his room. He finished his coffee in a hurry and strapped on his gun belt, attaching the leg ties carefully. Checked the cartridges to make sure the gun was fully loaded. It was a habit he'd developed since that morning. Then he grabbed his hat and went back downstairs. By the time he got back to the front porch Rose was waiting for him, having already been dressed to ride. She had a bay mare and a black gelding saddled and as soon as she saw him come out the door she swung up on the bay and waited. He was still a little hesitant when mounting, but once seated he was comfortable. They took off at a slow canter and rode down hills and around valleys, over creeks and through streams, a grand tour of the entire property. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and he could understand why Anderson bought the ranch. A man could get lost here, with the right woman. He looked over at Rose, her hair streaming out behind her in waves of chocolate, her back so straight in the saddle, her eyes shining in the bright light of morning. She was a beautiful girl – no, she was a beautiful woman. She fit handsomely on the back of a horse. They'd been riding for hours and it suddenly dawned on him that his stomach was no longer upset. And his back, which usually felt tender after this long on a horse, wasn't bothering him at all. There was something else that hadn't been with him for the longest time – a sense of peace. All seemed right with the world again.

Then a crash of thunder and a crack of lightening. Where had that come from? And then again, and they turned their horses and headed for the ranch house, racing against the weather to beat the sudden storm. His horse caught hers at the last moment just as the sky opened up and rain poured on them from all angles. They were both laughing like idiots and soaked to the skin by the time they reached the house. She jumped off her mount and he followed, chasing her up onto the porch until he caught her and they slipped and fell on the wet boards. She rolled up into his arms and they laid there for a minute, dripping wet and laughing, and she curled up tight against him. The temptation was too much and he kissed her, a long slow kiss that seemed to last forever. She didn't pull away and leaned into him even further, and he felt her warmth and knew he had to stop. He let loose of her and rolled away, until there was enough space between them that he could get to his feet. Once righted he caught her hand and pulled her up to stand beside him. He looked down into those beautiful green eyes and was lost for just a moment.

The moment passed and he pulled back from her. This wasn't right. This was Anderson's daughter, for God's sake, and the last person on earth he could afford to get involved with. Yet the only thing in the world he wanted to do was kiss her again. He took another step back and let go of her. "I'm sorry, Rose." The apology seemed small and insignificant, yet it was the only words he had for her.

She tossed her wet hair out of her face and looked at this stranger whom she had known for less than twenty-four hours. "I'm not," she answered as she pulled her hat off and brushed the water from her. She dropped the hat on a chair and went inside the house, leaving him on the porch, soaking wet and shaken to the core.

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He heard the horses depart and knew he could safely get out of bed. Rose would never forgive him if she knew he'd played a trick on her but that was part of being a father. The question was would Bart forgive him? He worried less about that. Right now both of them were in need of a measure of happiness and Anderson thought they'd be good for each other. Besides, if he had to choose between Bart and Elliott there was no choice. He liked Elliott but didn't trust him; he trusted Bart and loved him almost like a son. He couldn't pick a better man for Rose. Bart was a gentleman, dependable and honorable; in spite of his own opinion of himself; he'd survived things most men wouldn't have. And the only man he knew who could be every bit as stubborn as his daughter. If his attempt at matchmaking worked, so be it. If it didn't, he hoped the attraction he'd seen almost immediately between Rose and Bart would drive any thoughts of marrying Elliott from her mind.

He was actually humming as he got dressed. Tonight would be entertaining. It had been a while since there was anyone around that he enjoyed playing poker against as much as Bart. At long last he would have someone to challenge his skills and his mental acuity, someone who could actually beat him. He was excited at the prospect that he could lose; it presented a challenge.

He had more than enough time to shave and get cleaned up. Then downstairs for coffee and by the time he was indulging in his second cup he realized that Rose must have taken Bart out for a tour of the ranch. Good, let him see and fall in love with it as he had. How could you not? It was everything a man could want. Even a gambling man.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, a storm. The thunder and lightning cracked and the rains came. A few short minutes later he heard approaching horses and realized they were caught in the downpour. Better get back to his bedroom before Rose suspected anything. Then they were running across the porch and just when he anticipated being caught scheming with his daughter's life – two 'thumps' that sounded like bodies hitting the ground. Aha, the porch was wet and slippery and they had no doubt fallen. Then all was still and quiet for a minute. Were they injured? No, he heard movement. It gave him a chance to get back upstairs and allow them to think him still asleep.