Embarrassment choked her, a pained, self-consciousness that sizzled through her till her cheeks burned with it. Why had she just told him all that stuff? Why had she thought he’d understand?
“Don’t you get it?” She turned and stabbed a finger back in the direction of the ranch house. Distance made it seem even older—but for the men swarming the roof, she might’ve been looking through a window back in time. “You can’t change something that’s historic, you know, when the History Network is coming. ”
“I’ve got permits,” he said. “I signed a contract. We’re all buttoned up, no matter how many times I remeasure the place. Look, I’m glad things are turning around for you. People will always want to stay at the Big Bear. I genuinely hope this Fairview thing doesn’t hurt you. I really do believe that maybe it’ll even bring in more business for you. ”
“You can’t really believe that,” she cut in. With a sharp exhale, she took a few steps closer to the water. Stupid Fairview would probably build a little bridge over the creek—a silly-looking faux Japanese Zen thing, that people would stand on and flick their cigarette butts from.
How could the sight of all this nature make her feel better and so much worse at the same time? The low, loud rumble of a saw cut through the air, followed by a sharp crack. It galvanized her.
Everything she’d worked so hard for was falling apart. She was falling apart. Just when she’d made peace with Sierra Falls, it would be taken from her.
She burst forward, needing to be closer to the creek, to touch it for herself. Fed by the snowmelt, it would be cold, and she wanted to dip her hand in and pluck out a stone to skip across its surface. Why had she once resented all this so much? Why had it taken her so long to see how these mountains brought her such peace? She’d fled for the city, but it was here that she knew herself. Her throat burned with emotion, but she refused to get emotional in front of Eddie Jessup. She put more distance between them, wandering closer to the banks, walking in among the thigh-high grasses.
“Laura,” he shouted.
She spun a slow circle. “How can you build on this?”
“Watch it. ”
“What? Am I trespassing now?”
He laughed, and it was an aggravating sound. “Not hardly. I just want you to watch where you’re going. ”
“What is your problem?” she demanded. “You refuse to see what’s in front of you. ”
He approached. “Believe me, I see. ” There was a husky, suggestive note in his voice, and it made her defiant.
The damned man—why did he have to do that? She whirled around and plunged deeper into the grass. This time, when he called for her to stop, she ignored it. Instead, she challenged over her shoulder, “When was the last time you really saw how pretty this all is?”
It was so exhilarating to reconnect with the land she’d known as a child. She’d spent so many years chasing other things—how had she forgotten this? She plunged into the waist-high grass, stroking her hand along the tips of leaves.
His hands were hard, grabbing her shoulders. “Jesus, Laura. Stop. ”
She flinched away. “You’re an ass. ”
He began to walk backward, pulling her with him. “And you’re in a field of poison oak. ”
“I…” She stopped her struggling and froze. “What?”
“Poison oak. ”
“I thought it was red. ”
“Sure. In the fall. ” He scooped her up and simply carried her out.
She stiffened in his arms, shoving against him. He was hard and strong, and the heat of his body burned through his T-shirt. She fought dueling urges, wanting to either shove away from that hard chest or simply give up and curl into it. “Put me down. ”
Why did she keep feeling embarrassed in front of him? Exposed? She had the stupidest urge to cry, and she never cried in front of people.
Eddie ignored her and instead calmly said, “For the record, I see how pretty this place is every day. Almost as pretty as you,” he added, a hot whisper in her ear. “Come on. ” His voice was gentle as he put her down, but he didn’t take his arm from her shoulders. “I’ve got some stuff back at the house that’ll wash off the worst of it. But we’ve only got about twenty minutes before you start to have a reaction. ”
As they emerged from the grass, she looked down at her clothes in dismay—a pair of khaki shorts and flip-flops. Was it her imagination, or was her skin already crawling with itchiness? She realized he’d been eyeing her, too, and she gave him her best glare.
He laughed, damn him. “I don’t know what were you thinking, city girl…wandering into a patch of poison oak. ”
“How would I know that was poison oak?”
“Don’t you know the saying?”