King Arthur, who could get edgy if he sensed any insecurity in his rider, calmed enough to join the mare in grazing. It was a tribute to Callum’s skill in the saddle.
“This area is beautiful but I never felt like I really fit in here in Everett Landing,” said the man beside her.
Jody let out a disbelieving hoot. “You were the most popular guy in school, except maybe for the football team!”
“That’s a big exception.” He chuckled. “Besides, you’re biased.”
“The kids wouldn’t have voted you Most Likely to Succeed if they hadn’t liked you,” she pointed out. “I didn’t get voted anything.”
“What would you have liked to be?” he asked.
Most likely to have Callum Fox fall in love with me. “Most likely to teach school,” Jody said, sticking close to the truth.
“I was flattered, getting voted an honor like that,” Callum said, “but if you view it a different way, it meant I was being voted Most Likely to Leave Town.”
“That doesn’t mean they wanted you to leave!” she protested. “I can’t understand why you say you didn’t fit in.”
“Let’s ride,” he said. “I think better on the go.”
Jody clucked to Flicka and they moved forward. She was glad Callum had arrived in time to enjoy the spring wildflowers and the bright new grass.
Since he’d worked on ranches himself, he probably also noticed that some of the fence posts needed replacing, which was an endless job, and that one of the pastures might be a bit overgrazed. Gladys had suggested hiring another full-time hand and buying new equipment, but it would mean taking out a large loan. Jody wasn’t ready to face the risk.
“I guess the place where I felt most out of place was in my own family,” Callum mused as they rode. “My parents were wonderful people, content living in a small town and running a store. They never understood why I was so eager to head off to college and see the world.”
“They were proud of you.” Jody had dropped by the feed store occasionally after he left, eager for news of his activities.
“I know, and I loved them a lot,” he said. “I wish I could have been the son they expected. It was hard on them, having their only child live so far away. But I took after my restless grandmother.”
Jody recalled his mentioning once that his father’s mother had been a painter from Chicago who arrived in town to capture the Texas landscape and ended up marrying a local man. “She must have found something special in Everett Landing.”
“I suppose she did, although she stopped painting after a while,” he said. “I think she romanticized the place to herself, and by the time she figured out that she’d boxed herself in, it was too late. But I’m just guessing. She died when I was little.”
“Did she paint the landscape in your parents’ living room?” Jody had admired it when she visited there.
He nodded. “She had quite a talent and a great imagination. Dad was nothing like her.”
“Your father had his own gift,” Jody said. “He always had a kind word or a joke to brighten my day. You’re more like him than you realize.”
She wondered if she’d said the wrong thing, because Callum changed the subject and began asking for details about the ranch. Or maybe he simply wanted to know more. He listened intently as she described how much she’d learned the last year as the cycle of seasons rolled past, from summer haying to winter repairs and spring calving.
While she talked, Jody felt both satisfaction and the heavy weight of responsibility. With her students, she’d been able to measure their progress, and she could count on a paycheck. A ranch struggled to survive. She no sooner finished a chore than it needed doing again, and there was always the risk of a natural disaster or other financial setback.
She tossed her head, letting her hair billow on the breeze. This was the life into which she’d been born, and she’d put down roots here.
Even so, she hoped right down to her bones that soon she and the boys would be kicking up their heels beneath the spires of Notre Dame. Although she might lack Callum’s daring, once in a while she got restless, too.
“YOU’RE HUMMING,” he said approvingly. Callum enjoyed the way Jody often hummed or sang under her breath as if a musical current ran through her veins.
She blinked in surprise. “Was I?”
He let the melody reverberate in his memory before identifying it. “It’s ‘Under Paris Skies.”’
“Oh.” She blushed.
All the while she’d been rhapsodizing aloud about her life as a rancher, she’d been dreaming of Gay Paree. “I understand how it feels to wish you were somewhere else,” Callum said.
“I don’t wish I were somewhere else!”
“You never wish you were in a classroom?”
“That’s cheating,” she told him. “I was able to indulge my dream for a while. Maybe I’ll do it again when I get too old for physical labor, although standing in front of kids all day isn’t exactly easy.”
“When we were in college, I half expected that you’d decide to come to California, too,” he said. “You seemed interested in the challenge of working in a larger school district, and you used to pepper me with questions about everything from Disneyland to the movie industry, as if I had some secret fount of knowledge.”
“I was just curious because you were going there,” Jody said. “I wasn’t interested for myself. I’ve always known where I belong.”
“You’ve always known where you felt safe,” Callum corrected. An unexpected thought occurred to him. The place you’ve always belonged is with me.
That didn’t make sense. They’d spent so many years apart that in some ways they hardly knew each other. Yet in other ways, it felt as if no more than a few months had passed since they’d attended college together.
“Let’s have our picnic over there.” Jody pointed out a stand of trees. “There’s a stream through the middle. It’s one of my favorite spots.”
“I’m sold.”
Inside the dappled grove, they set the horses free to graze. With their reins draped on the ground, the well-trained animals wouldn’t wander far.
There was no need for words as he and Jody spread a blanket on the ground and helped themselves. In addition to the sandwiches, they’d packed carrots and cookies, which vanished swiftly.
“Is my hair a mess?” Jody asked as they relaxed afterwards. She wore it loose, the way he preferred.
“A little tangled maybe.” Callum plucked a twig from one curly strand. “Hold on.” He retrieved a folding comb from his pocket and, moving closer, began to work through her tangles.
“You don’t have to do that.” Despite her words, Jody didn’t pull away.
“I don’t mind.” Sitting behind her, he slid closer until she fit between his upraised knees. “You smell like roses.”
“I smell like my shampoo.”
“Could you be a little less romantic?” he teased.
“We’re supposed to be testing our ability to remain platonic friends,” Jody reminded him.
How could a man remain platonic with a softly built honey of a woman grasped between his thighs? Callum knew better than to even hint at his response to her, though, or Jody would whisk out of his grasp so fast she’d take the comb with her.
He searched for a neutral topic. It wasn’t easy, because he kept picturing her in the shower, shampooing her hair with her arms raised and her full breasts thrust prominently the way she’d done after they made love. Correction: after the first time they made love and just before the second time.
“Do you think I should cut my hair?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful this way.”
“It’s messy and it makes me look like an idiot,” she said. “The reason I wear it all one length is because Louise can cut it.”
“You don’t look like an idiot,” Callum said. “I know actresses who would kill to have hair like yours.”