Once a Rebel. Sheri WhiteFeather

chicken gets a guy every time.”

      “There are cookies in there, too.”

      “Chocolate chip?”

      She glanced at the Lab, making sure he didn’t react too strongly to his name. “Peanut butter. But I didn’t bake them. They were left over in the kitchen.”

      “I’ll bet Rosita made them,” he said, referring to Ryan and Lily’s housekeeper. “She used to give me sweets when I was a kid.”

      Susan nodded. She knew that Rosita’s husband, Ruben, was a retired ranch hand, a man who’d worked with Ethan’s dad. “How’s your father doing these days?” she asked, assuming he’d retired, as well.

      Ethan’s easy manner faltered. “Dad died four months ago. I guess Ryan didn’t tell you.”

      “No, he didn’t. I’m sorry.”

      “Ryan’s had a lot on his mind.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “But he took it pretty hard. He and Dad were close.”

      “So were you and your father,” she said, recalling the stable relationship they’d had, the respect between them. “I always envied you that.”

      “It’s been tough these past few months. I really miss him.” He closed the canvas bag, shifting his gaze, changing the subject. “Why don’t you come in and see the cabin? Then we can go for a ride and eat all the wonderful food you brought.”

      She followed him into the house, with Chocolate nipping at her heels. The other dogs remained outside.

      The cabin consisted of one large room, a simple kitchen and a closet-size bathroom. Animal pelts and hunting trophies lined the walls. A leather couch that she assumed was a sofa bed sat adjacent to a stone fireplace, and braided area rugs padded portions of the wood floor. In the corner, a small oak table accommodated two rustic chairs.

      “None of this stuff is mine,” Ethan said. “My belongings are in storage. I’m waiting for escrow to close on the gentleman’s ranch I bought.”

      “Gentleman’s ranch?”

      “A property with less than a hundred acres,” he explained. “Where the owner makes his living at something other than ranching.”

      “Did you sell your dad’s house after he died?”

      Ethan nodded. “He’d already signed the deed over to me. But I just couldn’t live there anymore. Too many memories. I figured this was a good time to start over. But the escrow dates didn’t mesh, so that’s why I’m in between homes, renting this place from Ryan.”

      “I live in a condo near the wharf,” she offered.

      He searched her gaze. “Do you like San Francisco?”

      As a montage of overworked days and exhausted nights spun through her mind, she contemplated her answer. “I fit in there.”

      He pushed his hat back a little, revealing the expression in his eyes. An emotion she couldn’t quite name.

      “You’re a city girl,” he said.

      “I’m dressed like a country girl today. Wranglers instead of designer jeans.”

      Her comment made him smile, but only for a moment. His intensity remained. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she let the silence engulf them. Ethan had been a complicated boy, and he’d grown into a complex man. But she expected as much.

      “Should we saddle the horses?” she finally asked.

      “Sure.” He was still holding the food she’d prepared. “Country boys like me need to get out on the open range.”

      “Sounds okay to me,” she teased. “I’ve always had a thing for you cowboy types.”

      “I know.” He angled his head to look at her, to roam his gaze over her body. “Opposites attract. It’s a trick of nature. What gets us in trouble.”

      Heat spiraled through her veins, making her sexually aware, reminding her of how long it had been since she’d had a lover, a man who meant something to her. But even so, Susan knew better. “We’re not in trouble.”

      “Yes, we are,” he said, as he took her hand and led her outside, making her pulse pound all over again.

      Three

      “Just because we’re attracted to each other doesn’t mean something is going to happen,” Susan said.

      Ethan eyed his companion. They stood beside the hitching post, the sun glaring above their heads, raining warmth down their backs. Whom was she trying to convince? Him or herself? “If you say so.”

      “I do.” She struggled with the girth. “Nothing happened when we were kids and nothing is going to happen now.”

      He took over, nudging her aside, realizing she didn’t remember how to saddle a horse. “Nothing happened because I didn’t let it.”

      “And I’m not going to let it happen this time,” she said.

      He shrugged, told himself it didn’t matter. “I’m okay with just being friends.”

      “So am I.” She turned to look at him, to ease the tension, to create a casual vibe.

      But it didn’t work. Not for Ethan. He wanted to touch her, to smooth her hair away from her cheek, to brush his mouth across hers.

      Friendship had its drawbacks, he thought.

      He finished saddling their horses, then packed their picnic supplies.

      “What’s my mare’s name?” she asked.

      “Serene.”

      “That’s a calm name.”

      “She’s a calm horse. But she’s lazy, too.” He patted the old Appaloosa’s neck. “Of course, she plods along just fine on trail. She’ll follow Sequoia anywhere.”

      “Sequoia.” Susan studied his gelding. “That fits him. He’s nearly as big as a redwood tree. The same color, too.” She leaned against the hitching post. “We have lots of redwoods in California.”

      “I’ve never been there.” He wouldn’t mind taking a trip to the Sequoia National Forest, but that was as far as his interest in California went. He couldn’t imagine himself in Susan’s neck of the woods, traipsing around San Francisco like a misplaced cowboy.

      She moved closer to Serene, letting the horse get to know her. Ethan watched her fuss with the mare’s mane, combing her fingers through it. Serene seemed pleased, but he figured the Appaloosa recognized a sucker when she saw one. Susan was babying her as if she were a child.

      He squinted beneath the brim of his hat. “You’re spoiling her.”

      “She’s already spoiled.”

      “She came that way.”

      Susan stroked Serene’s nose. “Oh, that’s right. You inherited her from one of your clients.” She bumped his shoulder, teasing him. “And now you’re stuck with her.”

      “She needed a home. And Sequoia bonded with her.” He bumped Susan’s shoulder right back. “Do you need a boost up?”

      “I can handle it.” She grabbed the horn and hoisted herself onto the mare’s back, the saddle creaking beneath her butt.

      Ethan adjusted her stirrups. “How’s that?”

      “Good.” She pushed her heels down. “I’m glad you invited me on a date. It’s nice to spend some time with you.”

      “I think so, too.” He liked the changes in her, but he liked remembering her as she’d been, too. The girl he’d wanted to protect. The girl who’d needed someone to care.

      Ready