Gallant Golfer (River's End Ranch Book 10) Page 4

  Chad felt a twinge in his shoulder that he hadn’t felt for months. His old injury had calmed down quite nicely after he’d left the tour and taken the pro job at the ranch, and he was grateful that Wade had contacted him all those years ago.

  He rubbed his shoulder, wondering if he’d slept on it wrong. He remembered tossing and turning a little bit, rolling over in his head the fact that he’d be giving his friend’s little sister golf lessons—well, little sister wasn’t exactly the right term anymore, he thought as she and Dani hopped out of the golf court. Her flannel shirt and tight jeans told him clearly that this was no longer the freckle-faced young girl in the picture Brian was so fond of. No, this Emma was all grown up—and beautiful.

  “Looks like she doesn’t have any golf clothes. Jeans and a flannel—must have taken fashion tips from Dani,” Simon said as he came out from behind the counter and started to flip through the women’s golf clothes on rounds in the middle of the store. “Some of these would look pretty nice on her.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Simon,” Dani said as she and Emma push through the door. “Emma can wear whatever she wants. We do need some shoes, though.” She turned to Emma as Simon sighed and placed the short golf skirts back on the rack. “I’ll find you some. You’re about my size.”

  “Thanks,” Emma said as Dani pulled Simon into the back of the pro shop and Chad smiled, leaning on the clothing rack.

  “You ready for this?”

  “Apparently not,” Emma said as she fingered the tops and skirts.

  Chad shook his head and pushed away from the rack. “None of that matters. Besides the shoes, I mean. You’d slip in those boots, but aside from that, the rest of this is all noise. It’s just a game.”

  “Thanks for that. I’m not sure I could wear some of these things anyway,” she said as she held up a neon orange skirt and an electric yellow top. “Don’t golfers believe in camouflage?”

  Chad laughed as she reached for an electric blue hat and plopped it on her head. “I guess not. Some people golf to be noticed, I think. And you’d certainly stand out with that get-up on.”

  He cocked his head as she placed the items back where she’d gotten them, her green eyes sparkling with laughter. His life had been so quiet since he’d arrived at the ranch, and that was the way he liked it. But since he’d met her the day before, he’d laughed more than he had in a long time—and it felt good.

  “Okay, these are the same shoes. I think you should take these,” Dani said, holding up a pair Chad knew to be pretty basic—gray and white.

  “I think these would be great for you,” Simon said, pushing past Dani and holding up a shoe with all three colors she’d just objected to in stripes down the side—orange, yellow and blue.

  Chad rubbed the back of his neck, not surprised at all when Emma chose the more subdued ones. It wasn’t that she was exactly subdued herself—far from it—but he suspected that she was happy staying a little bit out of the limelight, leaving that for her brother.

  Simon’s shoulders slumped and he squinted at Dani, who held up her palms and shrugged her shoulders. “Told you,” she said as she nudged him in the ribs when he dejectedly took the colorful shoes back behind the counter.

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Simon said.

  “What about clubs?” Chad said as he crossed over to that section of the pro shop. “Most people have their own, but we do have a couple of options. Happy to loan them to you until you’re sure whether or not you like the game.”

  “Already taken care of,” Dani said as she pointed out to the golf cart she and Emma had arrived on. “She can use mine. We’re about the same height, and I bet they’ll be perfect.”

  “You sure you don’t mind?” Emma asked.

  “Nope, not at all. I have a training run today, so I definitely won’t be using them. If you like it, maybe we can set you up with some and we could play a round together in a couple of days. That is, if Chad can do his magic and turn you into a golfer in three days.” She winked at Chad as she pushed through the door. “I’ve got to head out, so I’ll leave them by your cart, Chad. Have fun, you two.”

  Well, Dani sure was being accommodating. She wasn’t always the friendliest person on the ranch, but Chad knew that was mostly because she was very busy with two jobs. She’d asked long ago for golf lessons on her off time and he’d gotten to know her pretty well, and he certainly appreciated the support now. Besides, she’d gotten to be very good on the green, and she’d be somebody that Emma could play with—if it ended up she liked golf at all.

  “You going to need a cart today?” Simon asked as he peered out the window at the mostly empty driving range.

  “I think we’ll probably spend most of today over at the driving range and putting green, but I’ll take one anyway,” Chad said. “I’d like to give Emma a tour of the course at some point.”

  “That would be great,” Emma said as she looked out over the expansive course that wound back deeper into the mountains, along a rushing river. “You just point me in the right direction, and I’m all yours.”

  Chad frowned and shook his head as Simon winked at him, moving his finger across his throat to try to get him to stop. The man was kind-hearted and loved to tease, but for some reason, Chad didn’t want to be on anybody’s radar—except maybe Emma’s.

  He pushed open the door, holding it for her as they stepped out into the crisp, early autumn air. He reached for Dani’s golf bag and hefted it on his good shoulder, gesturing for Emma to follow him to the cart barn. His clubs were already in the back of his cart, and he strapped in the clubs Emma would be using, and walked around to the passenger side, helping Emma in.

  “No doubt you’ve been in golf carts many times,” he said as he hopped in the driver’s side and headed toward the driving range.

  “I have been—but only on this side. For some reason, golf carts and I don’t get along. At least when I try to drive.”

  Chad laughed as they crested a small hill, the road twisting down toward the putting green. The sun warmed his face at the same time the cool breeze rushed through his hair, and he was lost for a moment in his thoughts. Out in the open, he felt content, and he hoped Emma would have the same sense once she got her golf legs.

  “Driving a golf cart is the easiest thing in the world. It only goes or doesn’t go,” he said as they rolled to a stop. “All you have to remember to do is put the brake on. Especially if you’re on a slope.”

  “That’s the part I don’t seem to remember,” she said as she turned and swept her arm toward the horizon. “Besides, how could you possibly remember that with this to look at?”

  He turned toward her as she hopped out of the golf cart, and as she folded her arms against the chill and gazed up at the mountains, her copper hair glimmering in the morning sunlight, he thought maybe she might see what he saw out here—the vastness, the beauty. And if she could actually connect with the ball, she might like golf as well. A perfect combination.

  “It does take a bit of concentration, but it’s not hard.”

  “Huh,” she said and laughed. “Easy for you to say.”

  He smiled and reached for a club. “It is, I promise. Once you’ve found your grip, it’s all about the swing. Long or short, it’s all about the swing.” He handed her her club and smiled, leaning forward to catch her eye. “Honestly, you can do this. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said as she returned his smile and nodded, turning determinedly toward the driving range.

  Ready or not, we’re on. He thought of Brian’s request, determined to give it the best shot he had.

  CHAPTER 9

  C had had done about as much as he could showing Emma how to hold the golf club. Grip was everything and they spent at least a couple hours showing her where to put her thumbs in relation to where to put her fingers. They even practiced a few swings, and as he stood back watching her, she reminded him a bit of Brian when they were younger. Same build — tall, thin,
but while it wasn’t the case with Brian, her long legs that had given him pause the day before.

  They had been at it for a while, and he could see that she was beginning to tire. He placed his golf clubs back in his bag, and stood quietly until she made her last swing.

  "Think maybe that's about enough for today?" he asked as she leaned on her golf club and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

  Her eyebrows rose as she turned to look at him. "I haven't even hit a ball yet," she said as she swung her golf club over her shoulder. "When do we get to do that?"

  He shook his head as he walked over to where she stood. "Not yet. That won’t come until maybe tomorrow or the day after. You have to learn how to feel it."

  She frowned. "Feel it?"

  He crossed his arms over his chest. "Golf is a lot about the way you feel. The way that the energy flows when you hit the ball. And that pretty much determines where it goes."

  She swung her golf club off her shoulder and leaned against it. "Energy?"

  "Well, when you do sports therapy for people, do you just technically do what you've been taught? Or do you kind of sense what it is that you're supposed to do? What the client needs from you?" He reached out for her golf club and turned to walk toward the cart.

  She followed along behind him, her hands clasped behind her back. "I suppose I do that," she said after thinking for a moment. "Not every client is the same or needs the same approach."

  He turned and snapped his fingers in front of him. "'That's exactly what I mean. You got it."

  "So you're telling me golf is similar. That you need to feel your way through the course."

  “Exactly that,” he said. “Each ball is different, each yardage is different, and each hole—well, they each have a personality.”

  She rested her hands on her hips as he lifted the golf bags back into the cart. "I guess you could say the same thing about my sports therapy clients. They all have personalities too," she said. "Some more tolerable than others."

  Emma laughed, and the cheerful sound lifted Chad's heart. He had taught many people to golf, young and old, but few had sensed the heart of the game like Emma. Like he did.

  As she climbed into the passenger seat of the golf cart, she pulled off her cap and released her hair from the ponytail it had been in. He watched, mesmerized as she ran her fingers through it, it's copper color once again glinting in the sun. She turned her twinkling green eyes toward him and smiled.

  He shook himself out of his admiration and climbed behind the steering wheel of the golf cart, his hands on the wheel. He forced himself to look forward.

  "Thank you, Chad," she said as she rested her hand gently on his. "I think I can understand why you all love this game so much."

  He started off toward the first tee, thinking he might show her the course quickly before they called it quits for the day. "It is a lot of fun.”

  "You mean when you're not competing?"

  He snuck a glance at her quickly, the thought crossing his mind that she may be teasing him. But he was met with an earnest, sincere gaze from her and he sensed she wanted to know more about him.

  Unfortunately, how he felt about competition wasn't all that clear to him. Certainly not enough to explain it to anyone. All he knew was that when he was injured on the pro tour, and the doctor said that he might never get back to the skill level that he had prior, rather than try to see someone like her — the sports therapist – he’d taken Wade's offer immediately. Even though he watched his friends on TV on Sundays, playing golf on championship courses around the world, he hadn't before now had any inkling that he might be missing something. Until he met Emma, that is.

  “So tell me how you got into sports therapy,” he said as he passed the first tee, slowly cruising onto the second.

  “Gosh, that was an expert attempt at changing the subject,” she said as she looked out over the sand traps and water hazards.

  He pulled his cap further down his forehead and turned to her. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  She squinted at him for a moment before she said, “Fine. I certainly don’t want to force you into telling me anything you’re not ready to. Energy, and all that. I, on the other hand, have no qualms telling you how I got into sports therapy.”

  He cruised the cart lane, and by the time they got to the ninth hole, he knew that she had been a volleyball player in high school and college, and several of her friends had had twisted ankles, sometimes more than once. She’d discovered some intriguing ways to wrap joints, helping them play better, and her love of healing was born. After high school, she’d gone straight into a sports therapy program that she’d finished in record time. She was now completing her required internship hours, and then would be looking for a permanent position somewhere.

  “So you love it, then?” he asked when she’d finished, and they were nearing the eighteenth hole, the toughest one on the course.

  “I do,” she said before she fell silent, and he pulled up to the flag at the last hole. The view from this particular green was special, and for some reason he wanted to show her. He parked the cart and pushed the brake, beckoning for her to follow him.

  When he got to the green, he rested his hand on the flag and looked out over the lake below. He took off his cap and watched as she climbed the short knoll to where he stood.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered as she came up beside him. She spun slowly, taking in the scenery. “This is even more beautiful than back at the ranch.”

  “I bet there are some better views up there,” he said as he pointed up the mountains that framed the lake, where the Westons took people rock climbing and horseback riding. “I happen to love it best right here.”

  “Shh,” she said, holding her finger to her lips as she looked up at him. “Is that the wind?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, watching her as her eyes turned toward the sun. They both watched a hawk circle overhead, following it until it disappeared into a stand of trees, orange leaves quaking in the breeze.

  “I can see why you love it here. On the championship courses, there’s so much activity, so many spectators. Just commotion. I never truly sensed what it was like just to be out on your own.”

  “Yeah. This is what it’s all about for me,” he said.

  He crouched next to the flag, his shoulder throbbing. He hadn’t swung too much this morning, but for some reason it sure felt tight.

  “Hm,” she said. “So, are you going to tell me?”

  “Tell you what?” he asked as he stood, placing his cap back on.

  Her eyes penetrated him, and as she stared at him, heat radiated through his shoulder.

  “About your shoulder.”

  He had no way of knowing if she’d been aware of his injury, but Brian had probably mentioned it. She wouldn’t have known on her own—would she?

  He rubbed his shoulder as he looked away. “Ah, it just acts up sometimes. It’s nothing.”

  She followed him to the golf cart as he strode purposefully toward it. It had been a long morning, and they’d done enough for one day.

  CHAPTER 10

  Emma’s stomach rumbling was the only thing that seemed to shake Chad out of his silence on the way back to the pro shop. She hadn’t minded too much, really. The scenery across the whole course was beautiful, and she’d rested her head against the back of the seat, enjoying the warm sun on her face and the breeze in her hair.

  As her stomach rang the lunch bell, though, she sat up and laughed. She looked over at Chad, his blue eyes trained on her.

  “I’m not even going to ask if you’re hungry,” he said as his eyes crinkled with his smile. “I heard that.”

  “Can’t keep any secrets from you, I guess,” she said as she rubbed her stomach. She was hungry, and when she remembered she hadn’t eaten since the previous evening—had only had coffee earlier—it made it worse.

  “Can I take you to lunch?” he asked, and she’d never had a better offer. After all of that gripping and swinging,
she’d worked up an appetite that would have given her trouble even if she hadn’t skipped breakfast.

  “That’d be great. Think I should check on Brian and—well, Skip?” she asked as she looked away.

  “I suppose I can call and see if they want to join us. If you want them to, I mean.”

  She glanced at him, and his eyes were straight forward, on the golf cart path. She really didn’t want them to join. There were still things she wanted to know about Chad—lots of things—and she might not have another opportunity for a while.

  “Nope, they can fend for themselves. Dani brought food over this morning. The fridge is stocked, they have a map of the ranch and part of the reason I wanted to get away from the tour was actually to have not quite so much togetherness.”

  Chad laughed as they drew closer to the ranch, passing the pro shop and the helipad. He waved at Simon as they did, and Emma sensed true friendship between Chad and the older man. Simon did seem to enjoy teasing a bit, but Emma could tell that underneath that exterior was a big heart.

  “All right, then. I know just the place,” he said. He pulled the cart to a stop in front of a long building, the sign reading “Kelsey’s Kafe” and Emma’s stomach really acted up at the delicious smell of French fries that she could sense already. She just knew they were there, and they were her favorite thing in the world.

  “Perfect! A diner.” She hopped out of the cart and was up the steps before Chad made it halfway to the door.

  “Hold up,” he said as he hurried past her, beating her to the landing. He reached for the door and opened it for her, gesturing for her to enter.

  “Well, aren’t you gallant,” she said as she winked at him. He really was, and she certainly enjoyed it. Her brother was, too, but not quite as much as Chad. But she’d spent most of her time lately with Skip—and gallant, he was not.

  Emma inhaled deeply as they entered the cafe—yep, French fries. And good ones, she could tell.