Page 29 of Holden: Bucked By Love (Crawford Ridge Ranch #1)

Leni

I'm shamelessly ogling my husband from the upstairs, east-facing bedroom of the homestead house.

I'm supposed to be washing the window and changing the sheets, but I heard voices calling to each other and glanced out in time to see Holden leave the barn and stride over to Landry's truck.

He's leaning against the driver's door that Landry has propped open, his back to me, and I am fully taking in the view.

His hat is low on his head, his button-down shirt stuck to his back, and I have never been disappointed in the way Holden wears a pair of jeans.

I think about our family date, and that kiss, and how it felt amazing to be together that way.

"I booked our first wedding," Rae's giddy voice sneaks up behind me and I squeal and drop the glass cleaner.

It bounces off the desk under the window and lands on its side on the rug below it.

"Oh, shoot." Rae laughs as I hustle to pick it up before it spills.

"Those stairs aren't silent, Leni. I was sure you heard me coming. "

I'm blushing when I turn to face her, cloth in one hand and glass cleaner firmly in the other. "I was . . . "

The words trail off as she moves to stand near me and look over my shoulder out the window. She looks back at me with a knowing smirk.

"My boys sure are handsome."

I should not be blushing. I'm not a teenager with a forbidden crush, after all. I share a last name with the man in question. But, I blush anyhow, and make quick work of finishing the window and ignoring my mother-in-law's knowing looks.

"Did you need my help with another room?" I ask.

"Oh, no, I came to tell you that I just booked our first wedding."

My heart sinks. I know she assumes I'll be her right-hand gal with the weddings like I have been with the B&B, but I don't want to.

Even more than that, I'd like to take back a few pieces of myself and shoot for my own dreams. It's just, I feel selfish putting it into words.

I move to the mirror above the dresser and clean the glass until it sparkles, while thinking up a response.

"I thought you wanted to set aside some land for those events," I finally say, not meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"I do, for larger events. This is going to be really simple.

The wedding party will all stay here, and they'll be married in the backyard and have the meal there too.

There's no reception. It's sort of like an elopement, but they're bringing their parents along," Rae replies.

"I thought it would be good to make sure we can pull off an event before I throw all my dreams in that basket. "

She smooths out the bedding I replaced and I finally dare to look at the side of her face. She looks happy, and I feel terrible. I bite my lip as I settle the cleaners and rags back in their basket.

"I'll need help building an arch," she continues, "and we'll need to hire a florist to come cover it with flowers.

You and the kids can help set up the long table and some chairs, and I'll hire a caterer to cook.

" She grins up at me, her eyes bright and her warm honey hair falling past her shoulders.

"It's going to be a challenge, but I think it'll open some doors for us. "

I know she expects me to be on board, because I've never given her a reason to think I wouldn't be, but my throat is sticky with dread.

"That's a big step," I say with a wobbly smile. "When is the wedding?"

"Next month. I warned them that August can be warm even in the high mountains, but they're both schoolteachers and want to get married before the end of their summer break."

"That's soon."

"It is, but we can do it. And, you're right, it is a big step.

" She takes a deep breath and stands straighter.

"I'm realistic. I'm not looking to become a big player in the wedding industry.

I'm thinking maybe five weddings a year is all.

And, when Josi is a little older and you have some more time, you could expand if you want to.

" She walks over and takes my upper arm in her soft grip.

"I'm in my late fifties, Leni, and my dreams are finally coming true. "

Then, she walks out of the room humming under her breath. I can still smell her lavender scent and hear the clomp of her boots on the stairs. It keeps time with my racing heart. I don't want this. How does a person go about letting their mother figure down?

I gather up the dirty linens and the bucket of supplies and head out after a few moments.

I'm going to have to tell her how I feel, but I'm not sure I can do that when she only has a month until this first event.

She needs time to hire someone else, or whatever she decides to do.

Maybe I should do this first one with the caveat that she start looking for another person .

My thoughts have me distracted, so when the sheets shift in my arms and drop to skim the stairs, I'm not paying attention and my toe gets snagged.

Next thing I know, I'm skittering on my stocking feet down the wooden staircase and fighting for my life.

I reach out to grab the rail, but my hands are full with a cleaning bucket and more sheets, and I end up tipping forward.

I gracefully catch myself by landing on my knees at the bottom of the staircase, my feet mummified in sheet, before falling flat on my stomach with a groan.

My toes are still on the bottom stair above me, my nose kissing the wood floor, when Holden finds me. I have no idea where the cleaning supplies have ended up, and frankly I do not care. My knees and ankles ache, and I'm still trying to figure out how I ended up here.

"Leni." Holden's voice interrupts my moaning and I watch his hat come into view as his hand lands on my back. "What happened?"

I take a deep breath and it feels shaky. "I fell."

I hear a little huff that tells me he shoved down a laugh. "I figured that one out."

"Sheet caught my toe."

"Let's sit you up, honey," he says gently, and between the two of us we manage to unwrap my feet from the sheet and get me moving.

As I shift to my hands and knees to press up, there's a sharp pain in my right knee that has me hissing, and my left ankle throbs.

He hears the hiss and wraps his hands around my upper arms to pull me to stand, but standing hurts, and putting my full weight on my ankle makes me wobble.

Holden bends without warning and swings me up into his arms. I grasp at his shoulders and make a surprised sound as he heads for the kitchen .

I catch a glimpse of Rae coming out of the main floor room that is used as an office, alerted by all the commotion, but she sees Holden carrying me and gives an eyebrow wiggle before disappearing again. She shuts the door behind her. Scheming, insightful woman.

"I can walk," I say to Holden because it feels like something I should say, even if I'm enjoying the ride. He smells like the sweet scent of hay and the muskier scent of horses, and it's familiar in a nice way. "You don't need to do this."

He grunts, but doesn't put me down until we're in the kitchen and he deposits me gently on the counter near the sink.

My feet dangle as I scoot back to get seated more firmly, and I watch him disappear into the pantry where the first aid kit is kept.

I don't think I need a full first aid treatment, but arguing isn't going to make any difference, so I wait while wiggling my ankle to see where it hurts, and rubbing a hand over my scraped knee.

It's a warm July day, and I was working hard cleaning, so I'm wearing shorts and they did nothing to protect me.

My knee is skinned and already bruising.

Falling hurts more the older I get, regardless of how often I exercise to stay fit.

Holden is back and he tosses his cowboy hat onto the counter on the other side of the sink, exposing flat, sweaty dark hair.

He sets the kit next to my thigh, his fingers accidentally brushing my skin as he opens it and rummages around for some antiseptic.

At least that's what I assume he's doing, because he hasn't said anything to me. At all.

He finds the bottle and some cotton swabs, and gets everything ready, but I reach out to stop him before he touches my hurt knee.

"I can do it," I say, grumpy over Rae's announcement and his silence. I'd rather be alone than ignored. "Here. "

He pulls away the damp swab and I look up to meet his determined eyes. "I think we both know I'm better at cleaning wounds."

I pinch my lips. "That may have been true when we were teens, but my experience as a mom means I've shot way past your skill level."

I reach again and he dodges, again. "That's what you think. I always wait until you're done and then do a second cleaning on the kids' scrapes and cuts."

I scoff. "There's no way that's true, considering you wouldn't have been around to give them a second cleaning."

It's snippy and rude, and I feel a little sorry for it, but he doesn't react. He simply lightly presses the cold cotton against my skinned knee. It stings and I grip the countertop tight to keep from kicking him in the kneecap, gasping.

His lips tug up slightly at the reaction before he reaches for a bandage. "Do you remember when we were out on the four-wheelers our senior year and you drove it into a rut that tossed you against a fence post?"

I bite my lip and nod. "We weren't supposed to be riding that day. Abe had specifically told us not to, but I don't remember why."

"I don't remember either. I only remember the ride back with you holding your arm, and then sneaking in here to get the first aid kit before doctoring your arm and leg in the barn." He grins and it lights up his face. "Surrounded by manure because I still had to clean out the stalls."

"Man, we were so young that you still had a chore list," I tease, and then laugh, remembering. "Walker came in, all oblivious, and offered to get your mom to look at it."