Cowboy's Pride (Welcome to Covendale Book 1) (2 page)

Not wanting to startle him, she watched as he grabbed a log one-handed from the stack and set it end-up on the stump. He gripped the axe and swung it full circle, splitting the log clean with one stroke. The halves thumped to the ground.

When he let go of the axe to wipe his palms on his jeans, she said, “Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you, but…”

He whirled around with a glare—and her heart fell into her stomach. “Cam?”

She couldn’t stop staring at him. Still the same take-your-breath-away gorgeous, the lines of his face harder and cleaner. Stubble shaded his jaw, and his pale hazel eyes were hooded and watchful. He was only a year older than her, but he looked ten more, at least.

“See something green, townie?” He stalked over to the pole, grabbed the shirt, and mopped his face and arms with it. “We’ve got a front door, you know,” he said. “With a doorbell and everything.”

She cleared her throat, determined not to get upset. Obviously he didn’t remember her. She wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse—that for all these years she’d carried a massive grudge over what he’d done, while he probably hadn’t given it a second thought. But she was here now, so she intended to see it through. “Let’s start over,” she said, pulling the best smile she could. “I’m—”

“Sydney Davis.” He smirked. “It figures.”

So he did remember her. Okay, that was definitely worse. “What figures?”

“Nothing.” His eyes darkened, and he crouched to grab a handful of dry sawdust and rub his hands. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what figures.”

He straightened and strode toward her, so fast and angry that she almost stumbled back. “It figures you’d come walking into my back yard like you own the place, instead of trying the door like a normal person. And you didn’t come here to ask me what figures.” He eased back and folded rippling arms across his broad chest. “Now, I’m only going to ask you this once more,” he said. “What do you want?”

She just about bolted right then. But she was angry enough to overcome her racing heart and stand her ground. “I want to rent your carriage rig,” she said. “For my wedding.”

“Your wedding.”

The flat note in his voice surprised her. For a minute she thought he was sorry he’d overreacted to her presence.

And then he started to laugh.

Sydney was mortified to feel her face heat up and tears sting her eyes. Unbelievable. He was doing it again. At least now it was only the two of them, and not the entire student population of Covendale.

Well, he wasn’t going to break her heart this time. She’d given it to someone else.

She pulled herself straighter and willed the embarrassment away. “Yes, my wedding,” she said. “Can I rent it or not?”

He stared at her for a long minute. At last, he heaved a sigh. “Come here. I’ve got something to show you,” he said, and started for the barn.

She followed reluctantly.

Inside, he turned a light on and kept going toward the back, where something big and covered in canvas drop cloth stood beneath the loft. The rich, sweet scent of hay brought a smile to her face as she walked after him—but it died there when he yanked the canvas away like some demented magician performing a cruel trick.

The carriage had been breathtaking the last time she’d seen it. White lacquer and polished brass and wrought iron wheels, with deep blue velvet seats. Now it was dulled and filthy, the brass rusting, the seats matted and covered with dust. The whole thing canted drunkenly to one side, courtesy of a missing front wheel.

Cam raised an eyebrow. “Still want it? I’ll rent it to you cheap.”

Now she really was going to cry. Not just about the carriage, but the way he was rubbing it in—like he hadn’t hurt her enough six years ago and wanted to make sure he finished the job. She backed away, shaking her head and unable to utter a word. Then she turned to leave. She never should’ve come here in the first place.

“Sydney, wait.”

If he’d sounded the least bit angry or sarcastic, she would’ve kept going. But he’d gentled his tone, with obvious effort. “Fine. I’m waiting,” she said without turning around.

She sensed him behind her before he spoke again from inches away, his deep voice tickling her skin. “Who are you marrying?”

“Why do you care?”

There was a long pause, and he said, “You know what? I don’t.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she turned to look at him. She didn’t need to stoop to his level. “Tommy Lowell,” she said. “Is that all right with you?”

His eyes flared briefly, and she got the distinct impression it was not all right with him. But she wasn’t taking his opinion into consideration anymore. He got himself under control, and said, “Okay. I’ll make you a deal.”

She snorted. “You already said you’d rent it to me cheap. I hope this deal’s better.”

The hint of a smile struggled to form on his face, but he fought it. “Much better,” he said. “Here’s the deal. I’ll fix it up for you, just like new. I’ll even let you borrow it for free. Horses included, my best pair. On one condition.”

An explosion of butterflies filled her stomach, and suddenly she didn’t want to know the condition. But she heard herself say, “What’s that?”

“Once you’re married, you never come back to my place again. And I mean
never
.”

The pure venom in his voice took her breath away. Something told her agreeing to this was a terrible idea, and bound to blow up in her face somehow. But she did really want the carriage, and it wasn’t like she could come back here even if she wanted to. She was moving to New York with Tommy.

“All right,” she said, and held a hand out. “It’s a deal.”

He looked at it like she’d offered to stab him—and for just an instant, she thought she saw pain in his eyes. Like the moment just before he’d shattered her heart with a laugh.

But it was only the prelude to fury.

He seized her hand, pumped it once, and pulled away fast. “How long do I have?” he snarled.

“Three weeks.”

“Fine. Would you mind leaving now? I’ve got work to do.”

“Gladly.”

She walked out with her head held high and made it all the way back to the truck before the tears started. It seemed no matter what the circumstances, Cam Thatcher had a knack for hitting her where it hurt.

Well, this time she could handle it. Or at least that’s what she told herself. She had a great fiancé, good job prospects, and a bright future ahead of her in the Big Apple. She was happy.

Really she was.

* * * *

Cam wrenched the axe free and gripped the handle hard, until he heard the truck start up and drive away. When the sound of the engine finally vanished, he let out a frustrated snarl and swung, burying the blade a good four inches into the tree stump. He’d have a hell of a time getting that out later.

He didn’t care. That girl boiled his blood like no other person, alive or dead.

Six years. Sydney Davis hadn’t spoken a word to him in all this time, not even to ask why things turned out the way they did that day in high school. Not even at his father’s funeral. In fact, she hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction. Now she had the nerve to show up at his place and ask to use the hopelessly ruined carriage—so she could marry Tommy By-God Lowell.

She’d just strutted in here and said frog. And worse…he’d jumped.

Christ, he was a bigger idiot than his father ever accused him of being. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate. Now besides running what was left of the ranch and fighting off the bastards trying to take it from him, he’d have to fix the carriage somehow.

But he’d do it, if it meant there would be no chance he’d ever see her again.

He kicked the stump, pivoted on a heel and stalked to the barn. The sight of the decrepit carriage twisted his gut. He had reasons for keeping it covered, not the least of which was the memory of one perfect afternoon that still haunted him. No matter how hard he tried to forget. He’d already paid for that experience twice—once with his father, and again when Sydney decided he was the devil incarnate. Just like the rest of the town thought about him.

Now he’d signed on for a third payment. One impossible task, delivered in three weeks, so the girl he’d once loved could marry the man who wanted to destroy him.

He ought to take a sledgehammer to the thing and put it out of its misery. And when he finished that, do the same favor for himself.

But this wasn’t the time for wallowing in self-pity. A handful of horses and chickens still needed him around, at least, and one infuriating girl was waiting for a wedding carriage. He’d start by replacing the wheel and pray that the rest was salvageable.

Once it was done, he’d finally be rid of Sydney Davis. He hoped.

Chapter 2

Sydney walked into a house she expected to be quiet and empty, only to find her mother sitting on the couch with a bunch of photo albums spread across the coffee table. She almost walked back out. Marnie Davis could smell a crying jag at a thousand feet, and Sydney hadn’t told anyone she was going out to the ranch. She didn’t feel like explaining what happened.

“Hi, honey.” Marnie patted the couch next to her. “Got a minute?”

Too late.
“Hey, Mom. I thought you were volunteering at the library today.” She turned away and took her coat off, trying to wipe her eyes surreptitiously. “Isn’t it Thursday?”

“Yes, but I’m there on Tuesdays. I only do one Thursday a month, and that was last week.” A note of concern had already entered her mother’s voice. “Where were you this morning? Luka came by looking for you.”

“She did?” Maybe she could still pass this off. She took her time hanging her coat up, still not looking directly at her mom. For just a minute she regretted staying home to save money while she finished college—but that wasn’t really fair. Her folks were great most of the time. “What’d she want?” she said.

“Something about her cousin racing tonight, so she was wondering if you were still going to the track with Tommy.”

“Oh. I forgot about that.”
Ugh
, she amended silently. Watching a bunch of cars drive around in endless circles was not exactly her idea of a good time. But Tommy enjoyed it, so she’d promised herself to give it a decent shot. At least having Luka there would make it suck less. “So, um, I’ll just go give her a call,” she said.

Marnie cleared her throat. “Sydney, hon,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she muttered—but her voice betrayed her by breaking on the word. “Everything. I don’t know.” With a sigh, she walked to the couch and plopped down. She could usually talk to her mom about anything, but not this. Not now, anyway. She was already humiliated enough. “What are we doing with these?” she said, gesturing at the open albums.

“I take it you don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Not really.”

“All right. You know where I am if you need to.” Marnie patted her leg and smiled. “Anyway, I’m picking out photos for the reception. Your father’s so excited about the big, fancy projector, I don’t think I’ll get him away from it all night. What do you think about this one?” She pointed.

Sydney looked, and let out a snort. “Oh, God. You kept that?”

“Of course I did. It was your first date.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a date.” The picture was her and Tommy on the Loop-N-Drop, at the county fair in Valley Ridge. It came from one of those automated things that took a shot of every roller coaster car on the way down the big plunge, and then sold them for ridiculous amounts of money as you left the ride. He was laughing, she was screaming and clutching his arm. In the photo, Tommy still had a black eye from the accident he’d gotten in with Brian and Jesse Banks the week before that totaled his pickup.

It was kind of funny, now that she thought about it. Her and Tommy had barely ever spoken before that accident. After it, she’d started running into him everywhere, including the county fair. They’d gone there separately—her with her parents, him with his friends—but they left together. Someday they’d probably share a laugh over the car crash that led to a wedding.

At least, she hoped they would. She wanted the kind of marriage her parents had. The two of them still had weekly date nights, still liked and hated pretty much the same things, and still sent each other secret looks when they thought no one was watching.

“Care to turn off Memory Lane and back onto Now Street?”

Sydney giggled and looked up from the photo. “Sorry, Mom. This one’s fine. A little goofy, but I’ll live with it,” she said. “What else have we got?”

“Well, I’ve already picked out the requisite embarrassing baby photos.” Marnie winked at her. “And I went through my phone to get some more recent pictures. But I have some more shots from the fair—remember, I bought that disposable camera there? I had it developed ages ago, but I never looked at the pictures.” She shuffled albums around until she found a white mail-order photo envelope. “Care to do the honors?”

Sydney grinned. “I don’t know. Are there any compromising pictures of you and Dad in there?”

“Absolutely not. We use the digital camera for those.”

“Mom!” She gave her a playful shove and took the envelope. “Seriously, I don’t want to know.” She tore the flap open and pulled out a stack of glossy photos. The one on top was her and Luka side by side, with her dad standing behind them sticking his tongue out. “I think this counts as an obscene gesture,” she said.

Her mom smiled. “No comment.”

Laughing, Sydney put it aside for the next one. The first few were just the people she went with. Tommy entered the picture at the fifth shot, which was him and Luka in front of the horse stables. Next was the two of them, with Sydney staring at the ground. Then one with her smiling straight ahead—and Tommy looking off to one side with a fierce expression, practically baring his teeth at something off-camera. “Whoa,” she said. “What happened here?”

Marnie leaned over and frowned at the picture. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was…you know, there was some sort of commotion over by the stables. People shouting. That must’ve been it.”