The Trouble With Cowboys (26 page)

“Why not?”

Sierra shrugged.

“I don’t understand.” Did she feel ambivalent toward Luke the way Annie had felt toward John? “You didn’t care for him? Didn’t want to see him again?” But that made no sense. Sierra had been despondent when she’d returned from the trip. Annie had
suspected she was lovesick even before she’d known about the pregnancy.

“I loved him. Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I didn’t want to be in love! Not with him or anyone else. It never would’ve worked out. It never does.”

“Of course it does.”

“Look at Mom. Good grief, Annie, love only made her miserable. Why would I want any part of that?”

It was so similar to what she’d thought earlier about Dylan. How he’d been hurt by Merilee and was afraid to love again. How had she missed in her own sister what had been so obvious in Dylan?

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with Luke. It was just a fun little summer fling, and then next thing I knew, I was in too deep, and I couldn’t make the feelings go away. It was all my fault.”

Annie softened at her sister’s sorrow. “Not
all
your fault, honey.”

“I pushed him too far. When the mission trip was over, I decided that was going to be it. A clean cut. Better I break it off than have him hit the trail later. I gave him a fake address and phone number so he couldn’t find me.”

She wiped her face. “And then I found out I was pregnant. What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, Sierra.” She’d been so young, only sixteen. “I wish you’d told me.”

Sierra looked across the space, her face looking older than its twenty years. “You can’t fix everything, Annie.”

Annie leaned forward, planted her elbows on her bare knees. Maybe not. But she could help Sierra figure out where to go from here. She remembered Luke’s words on the porch. He’d said he
loved Sierra. Annie didn’t know how that was possible after almost five years, but then, what did she know about love? According to her “Dear Annie” readers, not much.

“Has he been looking for you all this time?”

Sierra shrugged. “He didn’t at first. He said he felt guilty and figured I did too. But then he started looking for me and couldn’t find me. When he came here, he stumbled across your column, saw your byline, and remembered I had a sister named Annie. He asked Dylan about us.”

Dylan? It would only be a matter of time before he put two and two together. “Dylan knows about you and Luke?”

Sierra shook her head. “He didn’t say anything to Dylan. He only found out you had a sister named Sierra, and then he knew how to find me.”

Annie thought the guy must either be crazy in love or just plain crazy to keep looking. Either way he had to be told about Ryder. He might even want a part in Ryder’s life.

“You have to tell him.”

Sierra’s head snapped up. “No. I don’t have to tell him. You stay out of this, Annie.”

How could Sierra be so stubborn? So wrong? “He deserves to know. Ryder’s his
child
. What if someone tried to keep Ryder from you?”

“This is none of your business. Stay out of it for once, Annie.” Her voice was cold and hard. She nailed Annie with a look. “I mean it.”

“What if he tells Dylan, have you thought of that? It won’t take Dylan long to remember you have a son just about the right age to be Luke’s.”

“He won’t tell Dylan. I made Luke promise not to tell him about us.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “A promise. I’m sure he’d never go back on his word.”

“That’s for me to worry about, Annie.”

“I
would
be worried if I were you.”

“I’m not telling Luke. So you can get off the throttle. My son is a happy, well-adjusted little boy. He’s doing just fine without a father. Luke would leave, just like Daddy did, and where would that leave Ryder?”

“Sierra. . .”

“Think about it, Annie. Isn’t it better to never have had a father than to be abandoned by the one who was supposed to love you?”

Annie hated to admit it, but Sierra had a point. Didn’t she know as well as anyone what that felt like? They both did. It left a child feeling worthless. She didn’t want that for Ryder.

”What if it didn’t turn out that way?” Annie said. “What if Luke wanted to be a dad? What if he stuck around and made Ryder’s life better?”

“He won’t. I know him, and you don’t.” Sierra popped up from the recliner, leaving it rocking frantically in the dark, quiet room. “This is not your secret to tell, so you just stay out of it, Annie. I can handle my own life.”

Annie watched Sierra stalk down the darkened hallway, heard her shut the door quietly behind her, and wondered how their lives had gotten so out of control.

Dear Scared in Saco,

    
Whoever said we have nothing to fear but fear itself has never been in love.

30

T
he jukebox cranked out a new tune as Dylan sank into a seat between his brother and Wade. He’d had to persuade Luke to come. The kid seemed down in the dumps lately, though he refused to say why. Maybe it was a girl from back home. Maybe he was homesick.

Beside him, Wade was watching Abigail perform a line dance with Shay to the snappy tune they’d selected. Shay looked like she’d rather be riding atop a saddle of burrs than learning a line dance.

“Where’re the kiddos?” Dylan asked. Maybe he’d ask Maddy to dance, get his mind off his troubles.

“Miss Lucy’s got ’em.”

So much for that.

Luke picked at a thread on his cuff, looking like he’d rather be cleaning out a barn full of moldy stalls.

“Why don’t you find a dancing partner?” Dylan said to Luke, scoping out the room. He nodded toward the wall. “That one’s got her eye on you.”

Luke looked, then shrugged. “I was thinking about heading back, actually. Could you get a ride if I take your truck?”

“Sure, I’ll run him home,” Wade said.

“Great.”

Dylan fished for his keys, frowning. Luke hadn’t even given the pretty blonde a second glance. “You sure?”

“Think I’ll take a ride on one of your horses, if you don’t mind. There’s a little daylight left.”

“Help yourself.”

He watched Luke skirt the tables and leave the restaurant, then his eyes darted toward the far wall where Annie usually sat. The tables were filled, but Annie was nowhere to be found. Now that she and Oakley had split up, he didn’t expect he’d see her around here much. Wouldn’t see her much at all now that she’d lost her column. It was only a matter of time before she finished with Braveheart, and then he’d only see her at church. He told himself he was glad. He’d let his feelings get out of hand.

“So,” Wade said. “You’re dateless tonight, huh?”

Dylan shrugged, looking around. “Plenty of fillies to while away the night with.”

Wade’s lips twitched, but Dylan wasn’t in the mood to guess why. He took a swig of his drink instead.

“And yet, here you sit.”

Dylan opened the snack menu and pretended to check it over. He didn’t want to talk about women. Especially one particular
woman. A woman who was more present, though she wasn’t here, than any woman in the room.

“Guess you heard about Annie and John Oakley,” Wade said.

“Yup.”

He couldn’t forget the way their eyes had locked the night before. It had taken everything in him not to pull her into his arms and make her remember the passion between them. If he couldn’t forget it, why should he let her?

“Something going on there?”

“Nope.”

Wade smirked. “Really.”

Dylan clenched his jaw. Fact was, he was coming to the conclusion that he’d already let things get too far with Annie. His heart ached when he thought of her. He was starting to wonder if he was in love with her.

The thought darted straight toward his heart and pierced it dead center. Bull’s-eye. There was no wondering about it. He had fallen in love with her. Somehow. Somewhere along the way. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, sure hadn’t wanted it.

“Nothing to say?”

He had to forget about Annie. But saying it and doing it were two different things, and he couldn’t seem to get any fire behind the idea.

“Moving on to greener pastures,” Dylan said.

Too bad no one else could hold a candle to Annie.

“You know,” Wade said. “Gonna say something here.”

Dylan scowled. “You have to?”

“I’m remembering a night in my barn a couple years ago when you had a few words for me.”

“That was different. You and Abigail were meant to be. Just had your foolish pride standing in the way.”

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way she looks at you.”

The thought made his limbs go weak.

“She’s free from Oakley. There’s nothing standing in your way now. Nothing but your fear.”

Dylan ground his teeth together. He’d already relived the whole Merilee episode with Annie, really didn’t want to go there with Wade too. His friend knew better than anyone what she’d put him through.

“She’s not Merilee, buddy. Sometimes you just have to cowboy up and take a chance, that’s all.”

“Are we done now?”

Abigail approached and pulled Wade from his seat. “Come on, handsome.”

Wade took her hand and gave Dylan a pointed look over his shoulder.
All this could be yours, too, if you just laid down that fear of yours
, his eyes seemed to say.

Yeah, buddy, I get it
.

Dear Anxious,

    
You can’t control your boyfriend or anyone else. Except yourself, if you’re lucky.

31

T
he next week Annie stood in the middle of the pasture working with Braveheart on the long line. A single line had caused the horse to turn inside, following her voice rather than circling. So she’d put another line around his body, keeping it high, above his hocks, to keep him in square. It had taken awhile for him to adapt to the extra line, but he was coming along.

“That’s it, buddy, you’re doing great.”

She wished things were going as well with Sierra. She’d been torn about keeping Ryder from Luke. She’d even considered an ultimatum: either Sierra told Luke the truth or she would. But Annie could never follow through on that threat.

Besides, maybe her sister was right. Ryder
was
doing fine, and
what if Luke only hurt him? Still, she couldn’t escape the fact that it just felt wrong.

Fortunately, between work and trying to find another parttime job, Annie had been home to do little other than sleep. And mercifully, Luke hadn’t been around when she’d come to work with Braveheart.

“How’s it going?” Dylan asked, climbing the fence. He waited to approach until she directed Braveheart to stop. The nape of Dylan’s hair was damp, his sleeves rolled up on his arms.

“I was wondering where you were.” She’d been hoping he wouldn’t show up. Being with him only made her feel guilty.

“Miss me?”

“Hmmph.” She wasn’t willing to admit, even to herself, that he might be right. “He’s doing better than last week, don’t you think?”

“Sure is.” His eyes twinkled, and she told herself it was because he was pleased with Braveheart.

He talked to the horse and patted his neck, but when he looked at her, she read the admiration on his face.

“You added a second lunge line. Very clever.”

The compliment warmed her more than it should. “It keeps him in line.”

He winked. “And aren’t you good at that.”

She notched her chin up, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. “Someone has to do it.”

He grinned.

Maybe spilling his heart about Merilee had shifted something in him. He was right back to the old Dylan. Maybe he felt safer behind his Casanova façade, and frankly, it was easier for her too. So long as he kept his distance.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and Annie checked the screen. It was Sierra’s school. She frowned.

“Go ahead. I’ve got Braveheart.”

“Thanks.” She answered the phone.

“Miss Wilkerson? This is Elaine Conroy from the registrar’s office at MSU. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“I’ve been trying to reach Sierra Wilkerson to let her know tomorrow is the last day for registration. You’re listed as a contact, so I was wondering if you might pass that along?”

“She hasn’t registered?”

“No, ma’am. I see she’s only got five classes left. Is she planning to attend this fall?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Well, she’ll want to come to the registrar’s office tomorrow. Online registration is closed and classes start on Monday. As it is, she may have difficulty scheduling her remaining classes.”

“I’ll let her know. Thanks so much for calling.”

Annie pocketed her phone. What in the world? Annie had been reminding her for weeks, but with the distraction of Luke’s arrival, she hadn’t double-checked. Sierra must’ve forgotten.