Rugged Rockclimber (River's End Ranch Book 8) Read online

  Rugged Rockclimber

  River’s End Ranch Book Eight

  by Amelia C. Adams

  My thanks to my partners in crime on this project—Kirsten Osbourne, Pamela Kelley, Caroline Lee, and Cindy Caldwell. You’re all outstanding women—thanks for inviting me to play!

  With additional thanks to my beta readers—Amy P., Amy L., Erin, Jeene, Mary, Meisje, Melissa P., Melissa S., Merilee, Nancy, and Tonya. I really appreciate everything you do for me!

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sneak Peek of Wild West Wedding

  Chapter One

  Wesley Weston stepped out onto the front porch of his cabin and took a deep breath of fresh, clean air. There was nothing in the world he loved more than the family ranch near Riston, Idaho, set against the majestic backdrop of mountains so sharp and jagged, they looked like they’d been hewn out of the earth with an ax. He couldn’t describe how he felt while he was in the mountains—he just knew that they fed his soul. He’d never tell his siblings that, though—they’d tease him until the day he died. He wasn’t supposed to be the deep thinker in the family—that was Wade. Wes was supposed to be the laidback one.

  It was nice and bright on this mid-September morning, the perfect weather for some rock climbing. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his jeans pocket and checked his schedule. His group of would-be outdoor enthusiasts would be meeting him outside the main house at eleven. A bunch of lawyers, from what Gwen at the front desk had told him when she took the reservation. Sounded like a laugh a minute—he’d need some strong coffee to get him through this one.

  He crossed the street and headed toward the diner. Kelsey’s Kafè saw far too much of his business—no doubt he’d be having some sort of bypass before he was forty—but he’d blame that on Bob, their new cook. They’d always tried to have a good cook on staff in the past, but Bob had taken everything up a notch, and Wes couldn’t help himself because . . . bacon.

  “Hey,” Kelsi said from behind the cash register when he walked in. “You’re five minutes late.”

  He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind her as he took a seat at the counter. “What do you mean? Am I on some kind of schedule?”

  “Not a schedule exactly, but you’ve become kind of predictable lately. And let me guess—you want endless strong coffee, bacon and eggs, and two pancakes. Am I right or am I right?”

  He opened his mouth to contradict her, but then closed it again. “You’re right,” he said, conceding defeat.

  He watched his sister with amusement as she toddled off to hang up his meal ticket and pour him some coffee. Her softly rounded pregnant belly was just becoming more obvious under her uniform, but she was so excited to be pregnant, she was milking every minute. He swore she added a little extra something to that pregnant waddle, but it wasn’t something she did consciously. She just loved the idea of being a mother.

  She and her husband, Sheriff Shane Clapper, were going to be excellent parents.

  Speaking of parents . . .

  “How are the latest additions/renovations coming along?” he asked Kelsi when she handed him his coffee. “Mom and Dad add anything new to the list?”

  “Did you hear about the conference center?”

  “Yep.”

  “And the new cabins?”

  “Yep. Is there anything else?”

  “Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean we’re off the hook.” She leaned against the counter. “Just be glad they aren’t having you do anything to improve the place.”

  “What is there for me to do? I take people rock climbing and hiking. I don’t know—maybe I could take them on higher mountains?” He chuckled. “No, I’m perfectly happy just helping the rest of you guys out, thanks. And then, when we finally inherit the place, I’ll gladly watch you enjoy your rewards. Just give me my cabin and a cheeseburger once in a while, and I’m good.”

  “Order up,” Bob called out, and Kelsi fetched Wes’s plate for him.

  Fluffiest pancakes ever. Wes drenched them with syrup, careful to make sure he got some on his bacon too, and went to work.

  Dani walked into the diner a minute later and took the seat next to him. She folded her arms on the counter and plopped her head on them, muttering, “Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

  “Hey, you’re in uniform. What’s up?” Kelsi asked as she poured her twin sister an extra-large mug.

  “Hiker went missing. Search and Rescue got called in around midnight, and we were out all night.” Dani lifted her head long enough to gulp down half her cup without adding anything to it. “We finally found him, but that was only because of the dogs. It was too dark to make anything out, and we almost had to call it off until morning.”

  “Was he all right?” Wes asked.

  “He was fine, just cold and hungry. He’d decided to go exploring by himself and got turned around. I just . . . grr.” Dani pounded the side of her fist on the counter. “Why can’t people get it into their heads? If you’re in the woods, don’t wander off by yourself. It’s . . . it’s just common sense. And this guy was from the city and had probably never seen a tree in his whole life. All the more incentive to be careful.”

  Dani always had been the grumpy twin, but she had a good right to be. Wes knew she’d had to retrieve hikers who hadn’t fared nearly so well, and any call for help was reason to be worried. He reached out and gave her left shoulder a super-quick massage. “It’s okay. Drink your black stuff and take some deep breaths. You did a good job.”

  “I won’t feel like I’ve done a good job until people understand that they can’t just go off on their own like that. We tell them and tell them and tell them . . .” She sighed and took another swig. “You’re right. I need to breathe. I can’t keep everyone safe, and stuff happens.”

  “And they’re lucky to have you when it does.” Wes finished off his mug and held it up to ask Kelsi for a refill. Why she hadn’t given him an extra-large one like Dani’s, he didn’t know. Maybe Dani got special treatment because she was the twin. “I should probably give you some advance notice that I’m taking a group of lawyers out today. Wouldn’t surprise me if one of them got stuck on a rock and we had to call you out.”

  “One of your clients gets stuck on a rock, that’s on you,” she replied. “I think part of your job should be to keep them from getting stuck.”

  “True enough.” Wes picked up his last piece of bacon and stood up. “I’d better get going—I need to check the equipment before I head out. Listen, Dani, you’re amazing. Don’t let this get you down, okay?”

  She grunted and buried her face in her mug again, and he smiled. She tried so hard to maintain her crusty exterior, but she wasn’t nearly as good at it as she thought she was.

  “And you take care of my little niece. Or nephew,” he called out to Kelsi.

  “Oh, I will,” Kelsi replied, patting her stomach. “Right now she wants cheese. Lots and lots of cheese.”

  “So it’s a girl today?” Dani asked.

  “You know we trade off. Yesterday he was a b
oy, so today, she’s a girl,” Kelsi reminded her sister.

  Wes grinned and shook his head as he left the diner. This family of his . . .

  ***

  Amber Russell looked around the small engine prop plane at the other lawyers from her firm, trying to ignore the fact that she was off the ground. She’d just been made partner, and Mr. Finnegan had asked all his associates to take this trip as a trust-building exercise to help create unity. She’d done her best to look enthusiastic about the idea while they were in the conference room, but as soon as she’d escaped back into her office, she’d rolled her eyes so hard, they’d almost popped out of her head. A trust-building exercise? Unity? Come on—they were all adults in the professional world. Surely they could run a business together without having to experience the wilds of nature to bring it about.

  To her left sat Harold Cramer, a balding forty-nine-year-old with a paunch. While not very impressive in his appearance, he turned into a lion in the courtroom and could reduce anyone to tears and confessions in seconds. His specialty was divorce and family law. Amber felt sorry for anyone who tried to sneak a late child support payment past him.

  On the other side of Harold was Giles Green. He was everything Harold wasn’t in the looks department. He was tall, blond, muscular, and at thirty-two, closer to Amber’s age. He specialized in contract law, and sadly, his personality was just about as dull as the work he did. If Amber could somehow take Harold’s personality and go-getter demeanor and Giles’s looks and smash them into one guy, she’d create the perfect lawyer. And the perfect man.

  There was her mother’s voice in her head again. Amber sighed, grateful the noise of the plane allowed her some privacy. She didn’t need to find a man in order to be happy . . . she could be happy by herself, no matter what her mother thought. If she were to find the right guy, he’d be someone to share her success with, someone to celebrate with—a nice addition to her already fulfilling life. She knew all too well the dangers of believing that someone could “make” her happy. She had to find that within herself, and she had.

  The other passenger on the plane was Peter Finnegan, son of Mr. Finnegan. He was the golden child of the firm, no doubt about it. Amber was fairly certain that if he applied at any other firm, he’d never make partner, and yet, here he was, all six feet of entitlement. Mr. Finnegan was a fair employer, but he did have a blind spot when it came to his only offspring. Amber couldn’t say that she wouldn’t be that way if she ever had children, but seeing the results of it was definitely an object lesson.

  The plane began to descend, and the pilot, who had introduced himself as Frank, called over his shoulder, “Landing. If you unbuckled for any reason, make sure you’re buckled now.”

  There hadn’t been any reason to unbuckle, so Amber was set to go. Frank brought the plane down on a small landing strip and brought them to a smooth stop, then opened the door and lowered the steps. She stumbled a little bit when her feet touched the tarmac, and Giles reached out and caught her elbow. “Thanks,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was so off balance.”

  “Easy to feel some vertigo after a ride on a small plane,” Frank explained as he handed her the piece of luggage and the guitar case she’d brought along.

  “I’m sure the high heels don’t help much either,” Harold said.

  “They’re very helpful,” Amber retorted. “I’ve won some pretty big cases wearing these heels.”

  “Oh, so that had nothing to do with your lawyering skills and everything to do with the shoes?” Harold gave her a smile, letting her know he was joking.

  “The shoes accentuate the skills,” she replied, hefting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She should have treated herself to the rolling luggage she’d seen at the department store the other day, but she just hadn’t been able to swallow the price. Now she’d pay that price to someone who’d carry her bag for her.

  A short Jeep ride later, they were bouncing through the main gate of River’s End Ranch. Amber couldn’t take her eyes from the mountains that rose up behind the place. They were even more incredible from the ground than they were from the air—the perspective of looking up at them, of course. She felt dwarfed and insignificant and yet somehow empowered all at the same time. Rumor had it they’d be climbing these mountains. Well, a little hiking never hurt anyone—she was up for the challenge.

  The Jeep pulled up right in front of what looked like the main house and came to a stop. Frank hopped out of the driver’s seat and made sure that everyone’s bags were deposited on the porch, then waved good-bye, saying he had another group to meet. Amber stood with the three other lawyers on the street in front of the building, not really sure what to do next.

  “Well, let’s check in,” Peter said, grabbing his suitcase and walking into the building. There wasn’t a bellhop or anything? Amber sighed and picked up her bag and her guitar case again. She was beginning to regret even bringing the instrument along—she doubted she’d have time to play it, but the thought of leaving it behind had seemed wrong somehow, like it would be lonely without her. It was more like, she’d be lonely without it.

  “Welcome to River’s End Ranch!” the cute redhead behind the counter said when they filed in. “My name is Gwen, and I’ll be your guest services coordinator. Anything you need, just ask, and I’ll make sure you have it. Now, you’re from the Finnegan firm, right?”

  “That’s right.” Peter stepped forward. “I’m Peter Finnegan. I believe the arrangements were made in my name.”

  “Yes, they were.” Gwen tapped a few keys on her computer. “I have you down for four separate guestrooms here in the bunkhouse, and it looks like your first activity is in an hour. You’ll be meeting with our outdoors expert.”

  “Sounds great,” Harold said. “I’m glad we’ll have time to change.”

  “First things first, though—I need each of you to sign this page. It states that you’re participating in our activities willingly and lists our qualifications and licensure to be offering these activities to you.”

  Amber glanced over the form. Standard waiver. Looked pretty straightforward.

  Once they’d all returned their papers, Gwen handed them each a keycard. “Here you are. Your rooms are on the second floor. You can take the stairs or the elevator—both are right over there.”

  Peter headed for the stairs. Of course he would—he always had something to prove. Giles, Harold, and Amber took the elevator like normal people.

  The first thing Amber did when she reached her room was to cross the floor and look out the window. She’d never seen anything so green. Spring in Atlanta, where she was from, was certainly beautiful, but September in Idaho had its own kind of beauty, and she pulled in a deep breath.

  Her journey to this point had been long and hard. Growing up in Georgia, she’d always wanted to break away from the soft, genteel life her mother had created. Her sister, London, was a little more Southern—she’d gotten involved in charities and beauty pageants and all kinds of other things, but Amber always felt like she was more suited to the boardroom than the parlor. She’d moved to Nashville right after law school, worked as an underling there for two years, then found herself in Oklahoma. It was there that she’d met Mr. Finnegan, and after two years of taking every undesirable case that came the firm’s way and proving that she could handle it, she’d been made partner.

  She felt old. She wasn’t, but she felt that way.

  She hefted her bag up on top of the bed and unzipped it. Hiking . . . she’d want some jeans, a T-shirt, and some boots. She’d already owned the clothes, but she’d had to make a run to the store when she learned where they’d be going. She knew it wasn’t smart to hike in new shoes, but she’d had no choice, and she’d brought some Band-Aids along as well. Plus, she didn’t imagine that Harold would be up for a long day, so she wouldn’t suffer too badly.

  She changed, then took the time to hang up her clothes and put the rest in the dresser. She’d brought a little of everything, not knowing
what else to expect. She was prepared for everything from a light cocktail party to grubbing in the mud. She couldn’t picture Peter grubbing, though, so she doubted there’d be much of that. A quick glance at the map of the ranch she’d been given with her keycard told her that yes, there was a pool, so bringing her swimming suit had been a good idea.

  And now it was time to join the others. She tugged on her boots and laced them up, grabbed a light jacket and tied it around her waist, just in case, and headed downstairs. It was time to go start trusting each other or whatever.

  Chapter Two

  Wes checked his watch. It was eleven, but he didn’t see his clients waiting for him. He waited another minute or two and then entered the bunkhouse. “Hey, Gwen,” he said to the girl behind the counter. “Did my eleven o’clock clients check in yet?”

  “They did. They just went upstairs to change.”

  “Good. Thanks.” Wes stepped away from the counter and wandered around the lobby, looking at the pictures that hung on the walls. One of his favorite family photos was just to the right of the fireplace. It showed his dad holding up a trout, all the boys gathered around him on the fishing dock. When was that taken? Wes thought for a minute. He must have been around ten. He remembered that his mom and Kelsi and Dani were back at the campsite getting lunch ready, Kelsi excited to be on a family trip, and Dani grumpy because she wasn’t fishing with the boys. Why hadn’t they taken her along? He couldn’t remember now, but he did remember that she wasn’t happy about it.

  He turned at the sound of voices and saw three men and one woman enter the lobby. He stepped forward and extended his hand to the woman, who seemed to be in the lead. “Wes Weston,” he said. “I’ll be your guide and instructor for today.”

  “I’m sorry—what was your name?” she asked as she accepted his handshake.

  “Wes Weston.”

  “Ah. I see.” She looked a little displeased about something, but Wes didn’t know what. “I’m Amber Russell. These are my coworkers—Peter Finnegan, Harold Cramer, and Giles Green.”