Riding for Love (A Western Romance) (2 page)

Dan laughed. “Well, Dent, oh buddy, whatever happens, I’m for one am glad to have you home. We’ll have to get together for a beer or two and relive old times.” He glanced down the street. “Say hi to your mom for me.”

Denton shook Dan’s hand. “Give me a call. I’ll be at my mom’s until I find a place of my own.”

A car crash was not a good way to start his first day back in town. Except for his father’s funeral nearly two years ago and holiday visits from his home in California, he kept his trips to a minimum. Now, as far as he was concerned, he was here for good. His mother’s request to help her repair damage done by an embezzling company controller couldn’t be ignored. Nor could her need to have her only child closer to home.

He’d wanted a quiet return, but here he was, not more than sixty minutes in town and his car had been in an accident and people were already whispering about him and Eve.

In high school, he hadn’t cared what people thought. After all, they’d been at opposite ends of the social totem pole. He was from a prominent, wealthy family, she from a father who drank and worked, or pretended to work, his run-down farm. His mother was devoted to both him and his father, while Eve’s mother, well, from what he remembered anyway, had tried to keep away from her husband’s fists.

His mother, Rose, wove her way through the milling crowd, stopping here and there to chat with friends and neighbors. Denton’s heart swelled with pride. His parents were friendly to everyone, no matter what their lot. He’d seen her hug the grubbiest and downtrodden. Right now, he was in need of one of her all-enveloping warm, snuggly hugs. No matter he was nearly thirty years of age and at least seven inches taller than her five foot four, her hugs had the power to solve all problems.

“Denton,” she said softly, giving him an affectionate hug. “I thought you were coming home tomorrow.”

Denton closed his eyes and breathed in his mother’s comforting scent as he returned the embrace. “I made better time on the road yesterday. I just got here a bit ago.” He released her, jammed his hands into his pockets, and watched the distant truck take a right turn and sweep from his sight.

Rose Johansen followed the direction of his gaze. Her lips turned up in a contemplative smile. “I see the past ran into you.”

Dent took his mother’s arm and guided her toward the restaurant. He frowned. “Literally.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

Irritated, disjointed, out of whack, rather like being in a San Francisco earthquake
. His pulse inched up higher on the Richter scale, and he didn’t like it. He wasn’t about to admit any of that to his mother, although she was so adept at reading his feelings, she’d probably figure it out.

“Other than my pride, I’m fine. I’m thirsty. Want some coffee?”

“Sure, honey, along with a piece of pie.”

He hadn’t seen his mother for a few months. Since his father’s death, dark shadows deepened her eyes. Weight loss made her seem waiflike, hiding an inner strength that had weathered her through, not only widowhood, but the near demise of the family business.

Over the months, Denton felt guilty about not being able to return to Wisconsin as often as he wanted. His job had demanded he stay in California. When he finally decided to return home, selling his condo and clearing up the final details of his life out West took up most of his time. His mother never complained, but he knew she was happy to finally have him home.

Today he was pleased the haunted look was gone and the lost pounds back in place. Denton thought his mother’s classic beauty would hold until she was old and gray, whether she lived in a small town in Wisconsin or sat in a boardroom in San Francisco. Her beauty reminded him of Eve’s.

He opened the door to the restaurant he so recently left and let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

“Quit frowning,” Rose said, then laughed. “You’ll scare the waitress.”

After they were seated, Rose contemplated him silently until he squirmed in his seat, reminding him of being a young boy and doing something wrong and getting sent to his room.

“What?”

“Just wondering what you’re thinking.” She paused. “No. Let me guess—Eve Dayton.”

Dent grinned. “Easy guess since she just left.”

“I saw the whole thing,” Rose said, taking a sip of coffee. “Quite a show.”

“Not funny,” he retorted.

“My, my, aren’t we being just a bit touchy?” she asked slyly. “Has seeing her again shaken you up a little?”

Dent ran his fingers through his dark hair, shifting wayward strands off his forehead. “I need a haircut.”

“Don’t change the subject. How did it feel bumping into her again?”

Smiling at his mother, he replied, “Well, since her truck bumped into my SUV while I was having coffee, I didn’t feel a darn thing, except irritation at having scratches on my new vehicle.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Dent. You are talking to your mother. Remember, the one who could tell at a thousand paces when you were lying?”

Dent waited until the waitress placed their plates of pie in front of them. He’d forgotten to tell them no whipped cream and gathered his thoughts while scraping it onto the plate. “I don’t know, Mom. The whole incident was so quick. I guess, shocked to see her again, dismayed at her situation.”

Rose lifted her cup, but stopped just short of her lips. “Situation?” A frown crossed her brow. “What situation?”

“It’s clear by her clothes and the old beater she drove that things aren’t going well.” He stared into his coffee and shook his head. “I really thought she, of all people, would have made something of herself. She was so determined to break from her father’s hold.”

He held his breath while she glanced at him for a moment as her fingers turned her cup in circles.

“How long has it been since you heard anything about Eve?”

“Not since I married Marie and moved to San Francisco. Hers wasn’t a name we bandied about.” Denton shrugged in dismissal. “Besides, small-town gossip doesn’t reach as far as San Francisco.”

Rose leaned across the table and patted her son’s hand, her eyes gleaming in mischief. “Things are not always what they seem, my boy.”

Before he could ask what she meant by her cryptic comment, Rose changed the subject. “Now, Denton, let’s discuss how to get our money back from that back-stabbing, money-grabbing, son-of-a-bitch who nearly ruined me.”

Chapter 2

Before turning the corner and heading for home, Eve gave one last glance in the rear-view mirror. The sight of Dent standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, legs spread like a pirate on the prow of a ship, made her anger boil over. She turned the corner, and slammed her palm against the steering wheel.

“Damn, damn, damn it all anyway. What is he doing back here?” She sped up on the outskirts of town and glanced down at her dirt-filled fingernails and filthy barn clothes. “Why, after all this time, did he have to see me dressed at my worse?” Her nose scrunched. “I even smell like horse shit!”

Eve wasn’t sure if it was seeing Denton again making her so mad, or her being dressed in stinky, dirty barn clothes. Either way, she thought she could spit enough hot nails to fence in her entire eighty acres. She sped up for the last mile to her ranch, Tamarack Hills.

“Forget about him. Get this medicine to Tilly.”

Her encounter with Dent had lost her precious minutes. After several hours of struggling, Eve and her ranch manager, Tom, had realized the birth of Tilly’s first foal was not progressing. She’d called Max Phillips, a veterinarian and friend. His rapid arrival gave credence to his dedication to his work. A quick examination of the mare had found a uterine infection. Max had come from a similar call and didn’t have enough of the necessary antibiotic in his truck. Promising to stay by Tilly’s side, he sent Eve into town to get the drug from his office. She jumped into the nearest vehicle, her twenty-year-old truck.

Normally the five miles to town and back went fast, but this morning the trip seemed to take forever. Her thoughts rolled from worry over Tilly to Dent, and Eve couldn’t tell which was worse.

She leaned into the driver’s door and turned onto the ranch’s long, tree-lined driveway. Pristine white fencing running along the drive gave an impression of wealth clients wanted. Eve knew how much work this took, but it was worth it when customers commented on the beautiful road to the ranch.

Tom, her ranch manager, waited at the barn when she pulled alongside the large red building situated at the end of the turnaround driveway. Trying not to panic at the somber expression on his face, she jerked open the truck door and ran to him.

“What took you so long?” He slapped a battered hat against his leg. “Tilly’s had her foal, but she’s not doing well. Max cleaned her out, but until he has the medicine, there’s not much he can do.”

Eve ran down the cool corridor of the barn. Several horses whinnied and nickered greetings. On a normal day, she’d stop and talk to each one, but this morning she barely noticed. She entered Tilly’s stall, handed Max the bottle, and dropped next to the horse’s still body lying in the straw. The mare’s eyes were closed, her mouth slack, her breathing shallow.

Eve held her breath as Max gave Tilly a shot. Only then did he look at Eve. “She’s not as bad as she seems, but I wish I could assure you she’s going to be okay. She’s awfully weak and it will take a few minutes for this to work.”

She stared at Tilly, willing her to get better. She couldn’t afford to lose her favorite mare right now, in addition to the other problems on the ranch. “Where’s her foal?” Maybe concentrating on the newborn would keep her from falling apart at the possibility of losing Tilly.

“Over in the corner,” he answered, pointing to a small, dark lump. “Tom, can you rub her down?”

Tom grabbed a towel. Eve’s shoulders slumped and tears slid down her cheeks. Max moved to her and held out his arms. “Come here, Eve.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, his comfort and warmth easing some of the morning’s stress. Then a flash of another man’s arms wrapped around her intruded. Arms making her feel not safe and comfortable, but wild and giddy.

Why couldn’t she fall for fun, good-looking Max? Why couldn’t she settle for what he offered? He wanted her. She should be content with him, but the hands rubbing up and down her spine only held comfort, not giddiness.

Instead, blue eyes and dimples entered the picture. Visions of him pushing his unruly hair from his forehead interrupted her thoughts too often the few times she went out with Max. Why wasn’t she able to get rid of her feelings for Dent? Was it because she’d never had closure and was doomed to go through life alone, always hoping, searching for what she’d experienced in the past?

Max stepped away. “I think she’s stirring,” he whispered.

Squatting next to the mare, Eve ran her hands gently across her withers. Tilly raised her head. “C’mon, sweetheart.” Eve composed her voice to keep Tilly calm. “You’ve got a beautiful baby to take care of.” The horse gazed into Eve’s eyes. She crooned, “C’mon, Tilly, old girl. You can do it.”

Moving one hand across the mare’s back and flank, Eve pushed Tilly’s mane from her eyes with the other. She stepped back when Tilly’s muscles rippled and contracted, barely getting out of the way before Tilly rose unsteadily to her feet. She moved to the foal, sniffed and licked her, then prodded with her nose, helping her offspring rise on wobbly legs.

A collective sigh of relief came from the three people in the stall. Eve stood next to Tom and hid a smile at the suspicious sniffle coming from his direction.

“Ah, nothing like watching a mare with her babe,” he murmured. He gave Eve a quick hug around the shoulders before stooping to help Max clean up.

“Put them in the pasture in a few hours,” Max said while he packed his equipment into a black bag, leaving a syringe and the bottle of medicine behind. “Give Tilly another shot in four hours. If anything else develops, give me a call.”

Eve squinted against the sunlight when she and Max left the barn and followed him to his truck. He tossed his vet bag in the open window, took her hands, and gazed into her eyes. She held back a disappointed sigh when no shivers or shots of excitement raced through her.

“Can I take you to Eau Claire for dinner tomorrow night?”

Now was the time to tell Max she didn’t return his feelings. She knew leading someone on was not a good idea, but how many times had a good-looking man asked her to dinner lately? A big fat none. At least she wouldn’t be spending another Friday night at home, doing the books she detested. Maybe it was wrong, but going out with Max might help take her mind off Dent and his arrival.

“Sounds nice, Max. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty,” he replied, climbing into his truck. “I’m looking forward to a wonderful evening with you,” he said, his voice deep with desire.

His tone hinted at promises Eve didn’t care to think about. He waved and her answering smile was lost in a stream of dust. She stood for a few moments following his truck then returned to the barn to check on Tilly, Max quickly forgotten.

Later in the afternoon, Eve leaned her forearms on top of the white fence surrounding the pasture behind the barn. Woods in the distance formed a wall of peace, the quiet broken only by sounds of the new colt, Nibby, alternately kicking her small front and back hooves in the air like a drunk attempting a fancy ballet leap and failing miserably. She laughed out loud when Nibby flung back her head and smacked into Tilly’s backside. Tilly turned her head and gave her a lazy look suggesting her offspring was a bit on the loony side.

“Does my heart good to hear you laugh,” Tom said, coming up behind her.

Eve turned at the sound of his voice. Not only was he her ranch foreman but one of her best friends and mentor. He came slowly toward her with a limp, evidence of an encounter with a stubborn horse. A year ago, while he was picking out the hooves on an old Appaloosa, the horse had decided to use Tom’s foot as a landing pad. Tom’s refusal to have a doctor check the foot had caused permanent damage to the tendons. He tried to hide the daily pain, but Eve saw it etched on his weathered face. As the day wore on, his limp became more pronounced and Tom’s hat would slide further over his eyes to hide his discomfort.

Over the months, Eve had discreetly moved some of his chores to other employees, until he caught on. When he confronted her about turning him into a “useless old coot,” she gave up and let him do the work he loved.

“It’s hard not to laugh watching Nibby’s antics.” She turned back to the pasture watching the mare and her baby. Tom joined her at the fence.

“The colt reminds me of you,” he said, smiling.

“What? Long, skinny legs and no chest?” she bantered back, punching him lightly in the arm.

Tom laughed and grew serious. “No. Beautiful and spirited.”

Eve sighed. He did know her better than anyone, including her parents. Tom had been a family friend for as long as she remembered. When her mother died eight years ago and her father was jailed, he stepped in and helped get the ranch going.

He was caring, supportive, perceptive to her moods, all the things her real father wasn’t. Most of all, he loved her like no one else. She shared everything with him. Well, nearly everything. A girl had to have her secrets. Today, though, she didn’t care to share her feelings about Dent.

But, Tom wouldn’t let up until she spilled her guts.

“C’mon, kiddo, out with it.”

“Okay, okay,” she answered, raising her shoulders to her ears. “I ran into Denton Johansen this morning as I was leaving Max’s office.”

Tom stiffened and clenched his fists. “Really?” he asked.

“Yes. I mean, I literally ran into him or his SUV anyway. My truck got the worse end of the deal.”

“Nothing he doesn’t deserve,” Tom commented, then chuckled.

Eve sensed his gaze on her, but kept her eyes on the pasture and woods beyond. If she weren’t careful, he would know exactly what was going on in her mind.

Usually the chirping of spring birds doing their mating dances soothed her. But today, nothing settled her nerves and the thoughts of Dent re-entering her life. In the past ten years, much to her dismay, visions of Denton Johansen crept into her mind when she least expected. Today he simply crashed back in, and not even the antics of Tilly’s new baby banished the memory of seeing him again.

Nibby wound down and ambled to her mother for nourishment. Over the years, Eve wondered if the emptiness inside her came from the lack of children. Unless she found a man to cast out all thoughts of Dent, children were not in her future.

“Eve?” Tom tapped her forearm. “Earth to Eve.”

Eve tore her gaze from the distant trees. After a moment, her eyes focused back to her foreman.

Tom eyed Eve’s soft profile. At times pride in her nearly made it impossible to button his shirt. Like a daughter he never had, she was kind and gentle. He figured most men thought their daughters pretty, and even though he’d had no part in creating her, he felt partially responsible for turning into such a beautiful woman.

Tom grabbed the fence. If anyone ever hurt her, he’d . . .

“Tom? What’s wrong?”

He released his white-knuckled grip from the top fence rail and rid his mind of his angry thoughts.

“So, kiddo, you gonna tell me what took you so long in town this morning and why you’ve been wearing such a serious expression since you’ve returned?”

Eve opened her mouth to respond. He put up his palm up. “And don’t tell me it’s over worrying about Tilly and the upcoming season. I know you better than that, girl.” He patted the back of her hand.

Tom watched emotions wash across her face. Anger, embarrassment, shame, and . . . Could she still have feelings for Denton after what he did? Having never married and not really knowing much about women and their complicated emotions, he wouldn’t be surprised. Hell, at one time Eve and Dent were stuck together like flies in a spider web. But, if the man thought he could fly back into her life again after the stunt he pulled, well, Tom would have something to say about that.

“Ah, so that’s it.”

“What?”

Tom chuckled. “You’re upset because he saw you in your barn clothes.”

“You’re darn right.” She kicked the bottom fence rail. “Then he had to help detach the “old beater” from his new SUV. He’s probably thinking I never did anything in my life, and I live like we did while dating. The big jerk.” Eve placed her arms on the fence and put her head across them. “Did I mention his SUV is new?”

“You can’t know what’s going through his mind. You always did believe he dated you in high school because he felt sorry for you. I never believed it.”

“Why else would he go out with me?”

Tom sighed and shook his head in bewilderment. He turned his back to the fence, crossing his elbows on the top board changing his view of the field and woods to the sturdy red barn.

“I can’t believe you’re persisting in that stupid notion. He was a young man besotted with you.” Tom took Eve’s hand and stroked a calloused thumb across the back.

“Honey, you were a pretty teenager. Now you’re a beautiful woman. You’re warm, caring, smart, and have a wonderful sense of humor. There’s no reason why any man wouldn’t want to date you. Your father was a hard man to live with, but it’s time you let the past go and move on.”

She sighed. “But every time I see myself in the mirror, there is this tall, gangly, ugly teenager wearing cast-off clothes, hearing other kids call her names, simply because her father was a drunk. Then I can understand why Denton dropped me for classy confident, beautiful Marie; my complete opposite.”

“We’ve been over this before,” Tom said, shaking his head. “How often do I have to remind you they didn’t last very long? Classy and confident doesn’t make a marriage. Something must have been missing between them.”

“Then why did he dump me the way he did? Why didn’t he tell me himself he married Marie?”

He wished he had an answer to soothe her. “So tell me what happened after you backed into his truck,” Tom asked, his voice quiet, not quite hiding his anger. The best way for Eve to get over being upset was to have her talk.