“Good morning,” Cal said.

  Piper nodded, saying nothing.

  “This is a different kind of saddle,” he said, indicating the one she had set on the fence.

  “It’s a trick saddle.” She reached out and touched it affectionately as if it meant something sentimental to her. Cal was used to a Western saddle and recognized the one on her left. The other one had marked differences, most notably the saddle horn was longer, straighter and with smaller nubs on top. Immediately, he recognized it would be easier to hold.

  “I see,” Cal said and shifted his glance away from the fence. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” she replied.

  Cal raised his eyebrows in confusion.

  “It depends on you,” she said.

  “How’s that?” She gave him a long stare. Cal wondered if she was going to explain.

  “First, I want to make sure you’re serious.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be serious? I signed up for daily lessons.”

  “That in itself is unusual.”

  “Most people don’t jump in with both feet on the first day?” he asked.

  She nodded. “In fact, I’ve never had a daily student.”

  Cal wanted to smile but forced his face to remain still.

  “With my schedule, I can’t take a daily student. I have full classes already.”

  “I understand,” he said. “However, I am serious and I’ll come as often as you can fit me in. I really want to learn. Why would you think anything different?”

  “This is not my first time having someone give me a reason that isn’t exactly true.”

  Cal was unsure of what she meant. But she’d figured him out. He wanted to know more about her and this was his way of doing it. Learning to do the tricks was a bonus. He wanted that, too, though.

  “You said first, so what’s your next reason?”

  “There’s only one more and that’s up to you and your ability with a horse. I need to see if you’re ready to start learning tricks.”

  “That’s fair,” he said. “Shall we begin?”

  She nodded.

  Cal moved to take the saddle from the fence, assuming he had to saddle his horse. Piper held up her hand, stepping in front of him to stop his movement.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I thought you wanted me to saddle a horse. I was going to carry it into the barn.”

  “Not yet,” she said. “There’s some basic information we need to go over first. Then I’ll show you a few stunts before you even get near a horse. Got it?”

  “Got it.” He nodded.

  She gave a shake of her head and Cal noticed that her glance quickly reached his face before turning away. Piper bent, stepped through the fence and stood up on the other side.

  “You said you could ride. Let’s see what you can do.” She smiled, but again it quickly disappeared.

  Cal joined her on the other side of the fence. As if on cue, a groomsman led two saddled horses into the paddock. Neither of them were Cal’s horses. Piper took the reins of one and swung effortlessly into the saddle. Cal could see she did this with ease. He mounted the other horse, knowing she was watching him for any error. There was none. Cal had been riding since he was a teen, learning on his grandmother’s farm in Connecticut. Horses were one of the pleasures he could count on no matter where in the world he worked. There were even times when travel by horse was the only way to reach remote areas.

  His instinct was to take off at a full run, let her know that he was more than an adequate horseman. But he knew that she would reprimand him for not being careful with an unknown animal. So he walked the horse around the fenced yard, then, step by step, changed to a strut, to a canter and then to a ride. Going through the open gate, he headed for the ridge between their two properties. He didn’t have to look back to know she was following him.

  It felt good as he leaned forward, his head low to the wind. Hooves beat a steady rhythm beneath him. Cal felt the urge to go on and on. The ridge seemed to extend forever and he was ready to ride it all. Piper didn’t call out to him. She caught up and they rode together. Cal glanced at her, smiling. Her face was slightly turned away from him, but he thought he saw a wispy upturn at the edge of her lips.

  After several minutes they pulled up and slowed the horses to a walk. When they stopped, Cal slid to the ground, holding on to the reins. Piper did the same.

  “Where did you learn to ride like that?” she asked as they gave the horses a rest.

  “Often when I’m on a job site, there are no fitness centers around. The areas can be remote, sometimes mountainous, sometimes flat land. Equipment may need to be airlifted in the case of building roads where there are none. That’s when a horse is the best mode of getting to a location. But mainly, I ride for pleasure and enjoy it.”

  “Self-taught?”

  “Not exactly. I had lessons as a child. My brother and I used to have competitions, pretending we were at the Kentucky Derby and seeing who could get to the post fastest.”

  “I suppose you won?” she said dryly.

  “He’s the more athletic one. I made it there first a few times, but he holds the record.”

  “Well, it’s paid off,” she said.

  “So, do you think I could learn to do the type of riding you do...in ten lessons?” he teased.

  She laughed. It was the first time Cal had heard that. He liked it and wondered why she didn’t laugh more often.

  He watched her as she appeared to think about his request. Frowning at the sun, she used her hand to shade her eyes even with her hat on. She looked him straight in the eye. “Are you sure? I know I’ve asked this before. Learning won’t be easy.”

  “But it’ll be fun,” Cal said.

  “It’s harder than it looks. And it’s dangerous. You could break a bone.”

  “I can do that anytime.”

  Cal figured she’d pulled back on the severity of injuries that could befall him. “I’ve already signed your waiver regarding the dangers of working with horses. And I’m a careful horseman.”

  Piper stared at the trail they had just covered. Had his wild ride been reckless? It wasn’t. He and his brother had done worse things, but he was older and wiser now.

  Her shoulders rose and fell in a resigned gesture. “You’re on. Let’s go back and we’ll get you organized.”

  As they approached the fenced area, the corral now contained two horses, both ready with trick saddles.

  One of the stable hands came to them as they dismounted and took the horses they’d ridden.

  “So first, there are the saddles,” Piper said as they stopped at the original ones still perched on the fence. “The saddle to learn tricks on is distinct from a riding saddle.”

  “Just as Western and English saddles are different,” Cal supplied.

  “Exactly.”

  She went through the differences he’d noted before their ride, confirming his thoughts on the saddle horn being easier to hold on to.

  “Got it?” she asked.

  “Most of it,” he said. She didn’t speak fast, but there was a lot that he needed to remember, even though his hands itched to mount the horse and get riding.

  “Stay here,” Piper commanded. She walked to one of the already-saddled horses and swung her lithe body into the leather seat. Cal thought of the first time he’d seen her in the distance, riding with her hair free to the wind. He was sure he’d always think of her that way—a free spirit, an uninhibited maverick.

  He watched as she went through a series of tricks: standing on her hands, riding backward, dismounting while the horse was in motion, and running alongside it and then mounting the horse again when she and the animal were perfectly in sync. Cal thought of old black-and-white movies he and his brother used to watch on rainy Sundays. They were dated and simple, but an actor’s ability to jump on a horse from impossible angles was always a plus in his eyes.

  Piper slipped back into the saddle and stopped the horse in front of him. She jumped to the ground, grabbed a rope and attached it to the saddle horn.

  “Your turn,” she said, a glint in her eye.

  Cal was winded just from watching her, yet there was no trace of breathlessness in her voice and not a single drop of sweat on her brow.

  Piper connected a long leather strap to the bridle.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “So I can control the horse and keep you safe. Now, mount the horse.”

  Cal did as he was told. Holding both the rope and strap, she took him through several exercises with the horse remaining still. Eventually, they began to move, and with his first try of pushing himself off the saddle and pulling his legs up, he fell. Looking up at Piper from the dusty ground, he expected sympathy.

  He got none.

  Getting up, he glanced at her and, without a word, mounted the horse again. Trying the same routine, he achieved the same result—the ground. Yet Cal was not done. He tried the stunt over and over, but mainly the result was him looking up from the dust. Finally, he managed to stay on while holding his weight on his hands and extending one leg behind him. Thrilled with his accomplishment, he wanted to do it again. Piper let him do it three more times before she indicated it was enough for one day.

  “I’m going to feel this in the morning,” Cal said, taking a gingerly step forward as he rubbed his obviously sore backside.

  “You will,” she agreed.

  He could almost hear the laughter in her voice.

  “You know, if I was a betting man, I’d swear you had me do more than my share of falls.”

  “I wanted to make sure you learned this lesson before any of the others.”

  Cal rubbed his backside again. “I’d say you did that.”

  “That’s all for today,” Piper said. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Not tomorrow?” Cal raised his brows.

  “Not tomorrow,” she said.

  He didn’t want to wait a week to see her again. As they returned the horses to the barn, Cal said, “Then have dinner with me tonight.”

  Piper stiffened as if delivering bad news. “Sorry, I have plans.”

  Cal knew she’d refuse and he was prepared for it. He didn’t give up easily and hoped she’d respect that. “You have to eat.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Mr. Masters—”

  “Cal,” he corrected.

  She looked at him. “Cal, you’ve been in this valley long enough to know that I make it a policy to not get involved.”

  “We’ll be eating, sharing a table. It’s not a date,” Cal said. “It’s just that I’m tired of eating alone. And I imagine you are, too. When I worked at a site, there was always someone to eat with. I’ll be at the diner at six.” He paused. Then speaking slowly, he said, “If you change your mind.”

  He tipped his hat and left her. Cal had come across some needy people in his life, but Piper seemed to need human contact more than most. He’d seen the signs before. He’d even been on the receiving end of that kind of misery. Whatever she was hiding was complex, emotional, and definitely involved a man.

  * * *

  BY SIX THIRTY Piper had not shown and Cal gave up on her coming at all. It was not like he had a solid confirmation from her. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Ordering a steak, baked potato and peas, he sat back to wait for his meal. He thought of pulling his phone out and sending a text to his brother but decided against it. He might tell him he was waiting for a woman who’d rebuffed him and nosy Jake Masters would surely call instead of replying by text.

  Cal lifted his water glass and noticed the door open and Piper walking through it. She looked around, obviously searching for him. Cal drew in a surprised but relieved breath. He stood and smiled, waving her over. His heart lifted at seeing her. She was no longer dressed in riding gear but wore a blue short-sleeved shirt, tight blue jeans and black hand-tooled boots. A white sweater was slung over one arm.

  “I’d given up on you,” Cal said as she slipped into the booth across from him.

  “I needed to talk to a friend at the hotel. Since I was already in town and hungry, I’m here.”

  “You know you put a lot of energy into pushing people away,” he said.

  Piper huffed at him. The reaction was expected. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. “Why don’t we put all that aside and share a good meal?”

  Her nod was so slight, he barely saw it. The waitress came over at that moment.

  “I’ve already ordered,” he told Piper. He glanced at the waitress. She was tall, with soft curves and an abundant smile. She wore her blond hair pulled back in a long braid that dangled down her back. “Piper, this is Ally, short for Alicia. She owns the diner.”

  He knew Piper didn’t mix with a lot of folks and he also knew that having friends in town was a plus no matter where you lived. Cal had been to the diner several times. He knew Ally had only owned the cute eatery for four years and she was from Nebraska. So she wasn’t original to the area. And Piper probably didn’t know her.

  Piper nodded.

  “I heard you were in town a while ago. Glad to meet you,” Ally said, her smile friendly.

  Piper gave her a smile. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

  Cal noticed Piper didn’t say she was happy to meet her. He got the implication that while Piper’s words were genuine, her position still said back away.

  “I’ll have the same thing he’s having,” she said.

  Cal watched Ally tuck her order book in her apron and leave.

  “You don’t know what I ordered.”

  “I’m not picky,” she said. “And I’ve had the food here before, usually takeout, but I trust it’s good.”

  “You said you were visiting a friend. Was that the only reason you came?”

  Her eyes dropped to the table before she looked straight at him. “I had another engagement.”

  So she wasn’t eating and working alone, Cal thought, but did not bring it up. “And you canceled it to have dinner with me?” His smile widened before he noticed her shaking her head.

  “My friend canceled. Something came up at work and she had to take care of it. So I was free.”

  Whatever the circumstances, she was here now and he was glad. Ally returned and set drinks in front of them, giving him a cover for the smile he knew was curving his mouth. Lifting his glass, he offered Piper a toast. “Her loss, my win.” He drank. She did not. “I thought you were pretty much a loner here and didn’t participate with the town much.”

  “I’m not a total recluse,” she defended. “I know people here and Meghan has been a friend of mine since we were children.”

  “Meghan? From the hotel?”

  Piper’s eyes opened wider. Cal noted her surprise.

  “We met a few days ago,” he explained. “I was exploring the hotel, looking at the architecture from the early twentieth century, and she asked if she could be of assistance.”

  Piper showed the shadow of a smile again. “She’s like that. A natural when it comes to customer service and making people feel comfortable.”

  Cal nodded. He came away with that impression.

  “What did the two of you do as children?” he asked.

  Piper shifted in her seat but seemed to relax a bit when she settled. “The usual things kids do, horseback riding, swimming, chasing after boys.”

  Cal was taken aback by her last comment. But Piper smiled and Cal wasn’t disappointed. It was everything he thought it would be, bright, happy and full of joy, even better than the first time he saw it. For a split second, the sadness that was constantly with her seemed to abate.

  Their food arrived and conversation was put on hold. Seemed they were both hungry.

  “I know you’re an engineer,” Piper said after a couple of bites of her steak.

  “I am. When I finished school, my plan was to work in the US, but I was offered a job in Argentina and the opportunity to keep traveling was appealing. I grew to love new places and new jobs. I stuck with it. I’ve worked in most countries, practically every continent.”

  “What do you engineer?”

  “Mostly bridges and roads, but I have been involved in channeling water systems and working on high-rise buildings. Once, I even worked in a toy factory making carts for wooden horses with wheels that rotated and a Ferris wheel for a six-year-old girl that she could turn on and off by remote control.”

  “That sounds like fun. The look on the child’s face when she saw it moving must have made all the work worth it.”

  Cal was surprised at her perception. He could still see the wide eyes of little Maia when he watched her push the remote’s button and the lights came on, the music began and the wheels began to revolve.

  “It was extremely rewarding,” he whispered. Realizing he was talking to himself, he straightened and offered his attention to Piper.

  “You like children?”

  “Never been around them much, but I like them. They’re so open and honest,” Cal said.

  “I suppose so.”

  “Does that mean you haven’t been around kids, either?”

  “Not many,” she said.

  Cal noticed she didn’t elaborate. Her tone said her experience wasn’t positive.

  “They pay you with hugs,” he said. He sat back. “The first time a kid hugged me, I wasn’t expecting it. I found her crying. She and a friend had been playing, then a tug-of-war broke out and the doll was torn. I fixed it using some duct tape and fishing line. You’d have thought it was made of rubies. She threw her arms around my neck and gave me the tightest hug. Emotions I didn’t know existed surfaced.”