“Thirty-two.”
She hid her shock. He looked older. Considering everything he’d gone through, she shouldn’t have felt so surprised. He’d lost his wife and his career eight years ago. Which meant he’d been just twenty-four.
“You’re still young,” she said. “When the Rad is yours, is that how you want to live out your life? Ranching the hard way on the side of a mountain?”
“It won’t end up mine.”
“Why are you so certain of that? I would have sworn that you loved the ranch. Loved the mountain itself. Do you just not want it?”
“Nothing I’ve ever loved has lasted.”
An ache filled her chest. “That doesn’t mean this wouldn’t. You told me you believed the mountain should be shared. You could retain the ranch. Sell the rest.”
“To your boss.”
“Well, certainly not to Winemeier Mining!”
“Is that what this has all been about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Hedging your bets? The whole friend routine? Just in case that old man leaves me the mountain?”
“Wow.” Stung, she sat back and had to fight the urge to get up and walk away. “That came out of left field. You really are cynical.”
“Realistic. You’re here to strike a deal. With someone. You wouldn’t be the first woman to sleep—”
Fire shot through her veins, incinerating anything as mild as stung. “Don’t even go there,” she cut him off. “I didn’t sleep with you for a bloody deal. I slept with you because I—” She managed to put the skids on her hot tongue and slid off the stool. “You know what? If you know me so little by now, it doesn’t even matter.”
She grabbed her jacket and spun on her heel. She’d never seen red before. But she saw it now. It actually hazed her vision as she strode toward the exit and shoved through the door so hard it bounced back against the wall.
Outside on the sidewalk, she immediately turned and kept right on walking, her heels snapping out angrily on the cement.
She’d reached the end of the block before she even realized it. Her car was still parked at the courthouse. In the opposite direction.
She cursed under her breath and turned around to start walking back. Her ears were still buzzing. “Impossible. Impossible—” She couldn’t think of a word vilifying enough. “Man.”
“Whoa there, doll.”
She glared up at Archer. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“Sheriff’s Office.”
It was almost directly across the street.
“What’s got you in such a lather?”
“Who says I’m in a lather?”
His hands went up peaceably. “The snarl?”
“Well, I have a whole lot more where they come from,” she assured, and stepped around him. “And don’t call me doll!”
* * *
Through the window, Jed watched April stomp across the street. Her long red hair was bouncing against her back. Less than a minute later, Archer Templeton had pushed through the door of Colbys and his gaze landed on Jed.
The other man looked wryly amused as he approached. “Where’s the date?” He nodded toward the two steak dinners on the table.
“On her way back to Denver, no doubt.”
“A certain testy redhead?”
“She’s not testy. She’s just facing reality.” Jed gestured with his empty glass. “Want a steak?”
Archer pulled out the chair, angling it so he had more legroom. “Looks as excellent as the steaks always are here, but I’ll pass.”
He gestured to the waitress and pointed at Jed’s beer. He held up two fingers.
She nodded and headed to the bar.
“Doesn’t look like you’re in the mood to eat, either,” the other man pointed out. “What reality?”
“Once a bastard, always a bastard.”
“Speaking personally, or about our friend Snead?”
“Either applies.”
The cheerful waitress veered to their table, delivered the drinks and after learning that Archer didn’t want a menu, headed off again.
“Pretty girl,” the lawyer commented.
“Didn’t notice.” Jed stabbed at his steak once and set down his fork. He picked up the fresh beer, but didn’t drink that, either.
“You should go after her.”
Jed knew the guy didn’t mean the waitress.
“That’s an attorney for you. Always handing out the advice.” He waited a beat. “Wanted or not.”
Archer smiled faintly. “We have that tendency.” He took a long drink. “Too bad I never take my own.” He looked back at Jed. “I know who you are. John Edward Dalloway.”
Jed went still. He looked past the attorney, out the window. Seeing the past more than the street outside. It was like looking down a long hallway. One that didn’t hold the pain that it once did, but one that would always be there. Reminding him.
“That was a long time ago,” he said finally.
The other man was drumming the table in a deceptively leisurely way. “Not going to ask why I know who you are?”
Jed toyed with the beer. “You’re representing her boss. The developer. Pays to know who all the players are at the table.”
“Are you at the table?”
Jed grimaced. “Not by choice. None of us knows what that will contains yet, but it would have been easier if April hadn’t found it.”
“Even though it would have meant Snead getting it all.”
“He still might.”
“True.”
“She’ll be able to keep him from selling to the mining company.”
“How do you know?” Archer raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not the only one who can do his research. Winemeier isn’t as stable as they appear.” He saw the glint in the attorney’s eyes. “Surprise, surprise.”
Archer sat forward, resting his arms on the table. “Neither is Snead. He’s in debt up to his eyeballs.”
“Not like Winemeier is. Family owned. And there’s a power struggle going on between them all. They’ll take too long structuring the deal. Stanton just needs to move quickly.”
Archer looked curious. “Aside from wondering how you know all that—”
“Library has adequate internet.”
He smiled. “Not according to my grandmother, Vivian.” Then his smile died, but evidently his curiosity didn’t. “Most people wouldn’t give away a second chance at a fortune. But it sounds like you might.”
“You know who I am, then you know the first fortune didn’t get me anywhere.”
“I know you didn’t have to give yours away to put into a fund benefitting the victims of Hampton-Tiggs.”
“On that, you and my late wife would have agreed.” Jed pulled out his worn leather wallet and extracted enough cash for the untouched meals plus tip. “Otis didn’t want his land going to a developer. April’s best chance of getting her deal is with Snead.” He tossed the cash on the table and stood. “Or anyone else, for that matter. Anyone other than me.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I think you should stay.”
April looked away from her grandmother’s concerned face, pretending an interest in the scrambled eggs on her plate. “I need to get back to Denver. Toss out the houseplants I’ve left dying.”
Belle refilled April’s coffee cup, then sat down at the table and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “What about Lambert’s will?”
April continued rearranging her eggs. Rather than return to the Double-C after she’d walked out on Jed the previous day, she’d gone to her aunt and uncle’s ranch. Mostly because she’d gained a painful understanding for her grandmother making that stand against Squire.
She was as furious with Jed over his insinuation as she’d ever been in her l
ife, and they’d only known one another a matter of months.
What was it like for Gloria? She’d married Squire when April’s mom and aunt were just teenagers. Shouldn’t a couple be safe after so long together?
She realized her aunt was still waiting for an answer and lifted her shoulder. “The judge said she’ll rule in a couple weeks. If Gage wants to pursue it then, that’ll be his choice. For me, I’m done. He doesn’t need me to make this deal.” She gave up on the eggs and lifted her cup, burying her nose in it.
“I still think you should stay,” Gloria repeated. She rose and tightened the belt on her flowered robe before she whisked away April’s nearly untouched plate. “And not because of Rambling Mountain.” She scraped the plate into the trash. “Your breakfast has been cold for an hour.”
“I guess I wasn’t hungry.”
She saw the look that passed between her aunt and grandmother.
“You’re always hungry,” Belle pointed out gently, as if it were stunning news. “What about Jed?”
April’s throat tightened. “What about him?”
Again, a look passed between Belle and Gloria.
“Honey...” Gloria sounded vaguely chiding. “One look at your face tells us how much you care for him. You’re in love with him.”
“You can’t love someone you’ve barely met two months ago.”
Her aunt and grandmother gave her twin looks of “are you kidding me?”
Gloria was the first to speak. “Sweetheart, I fell in love with Squire two hours into meeting that damn man. Not that I was going to admit it to him, of course.”
“And here you are.” April waved her hand, encompassing Belle and Cage’s kitchen at the Lazy-B.
“That is because your grandfather needs to get his head out of his hind end. Not because I don’t still love him. Instead of living in the here and now, he’s twisting about something that happened long ago when he was just a young man.”
She snatched up the bowl that had held the scrambled eggs and went back to the sink. But April had seen the way Gloria’s eyes glistened, which was an alarming rarity.
Dishes clattered in the sink. “He’s not a young man now. Not even a middle-aged one, despite what he may think inside that hard head of his.” She sniffed. “I’m well aware that Sarah was the love of his life, but I have stood by him and been his partner for more than thirty years. I don’t think it’s too much to want him enjoying our life and the time we have left without him always getting sidetracked about the distant past.”
Belle looked like she was ready to cry. She got up and went to her mother, hugging her. April wiped her eyes with her crumpled napkin.
“I loved your daddy, Belle,” Gloria choked. “But—” She broke off.
“I know, Mom. It’s all right. You and Squire are meant to be together.” Belle lifted her head and gave April a wet wink. “He’ll come to his senses and show up here to haul you right back where you belong,” she assured bracingly. “You know he will.”
Gloria made a sound, half-tearful, half-wry. “Yes, well, frankly, I wish he’d get on about it before I lose my willpower and just go on home, myself.” She patted her daughter’s shoulder, dashed her cheek and tightened her robe again, once more in control, even though her eyes still looked damp.
She moved briskly back to the table to clear a few more plates. “Good lesson to learn, April.” She gave her a direct look. “Age doesn’t matter a speck when it comes to love.” She pointed toward her with the stack of plates. “You love that man. Or you’d have negotiated a deal with that Snead fellow as soon as the wind turned his direction weeks ago, instead of hanging around helping Jed. Finding that will.”
“Finding the will was an accident. Turning it in was the right thing to do.”
“Of course it was. And I still think you should stay.”
“For what?” She shoved her chair back and stood. “He accused me of sleeping with him over business!” Her cheeks heated at the admission but she was too far gone to care. “He does not know me at all. And why would he care to? He’s not over his wife. And I must’ve missed inheriting that strong gene of yours, Grandma. This isn’t like you and Squire back in the day. I can’t hang around here, hoping that one day he’ll want to move on, or that when that day comes, he’ll want to move on with me.”
“Because your life in Denver is so perfect?”
“Because it hurts too much!”
Gloria’s eyes softened. “Well, at least you’re admitting it.”
The pressure in her chest grew. “Yes, well, I’ll get over it.” If she said it often enough, maybe there was an actual chance of it one day coming true.
“Are you sure you want to?”
She pressed her fingertips to the pain in her forehead. “I told you. He’s not over his wife. Frankly, I don’t think he ever will be.”
“He’s told you that?”
“Some things don’t have to be said.” And the thing that he had said was going to burn inside her for a good long while. Because her chest felt like a vise was squeezing it, she pushed away from the table. “I need to go back to the big house and get my things.”
“Are you going to see Piper before you go?”
April felt an entirely different stab. She hadn’t talked with her friend even once since coming back to Weaver. “She’s at school.” She brushed a kiss over her aunt’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me crash. And tell Cage thanks for the loan.” She plucked at the oversize black T-shirt she’d slept in. She knew he’d been out working cattle since dawn.
“You could stay and tell him yourself. He’ll be in for lunch in a few hours.”
She knew what Belle was trying to do. Thinking if April stayed a little longer, the two of them would convince her not to go. They’d probably get her mom on the phone, too, so that Nikki could add her well-intended pressure. “It’s a long drive back to Denver.” Her throat was tight. She gave her grandmother a hug. “Love you.”
Gloria squeezed her. “Will you still come back for the barbecue next week on Memorial Day?”
Every year the Double-C hosted a huge barbecue for the holiday. April usually tried to make it. “We’ll see.” She straightened and gave her grandmother a close look. “Will you?”
Gloria’s lips lifted slightly. “We’ll see,” she returned. “Squire will miss you terribly if you don’t.”
“Play dirty, why don’t you?”
Gloria’s smile grew. “We use what tools we have.” She patted April’s shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You do what you need to do. As long as you stay honest with yourself.”
On that oh-so-delightful note, April slunk back to the guest room and changed once more into her clothes from the day before.
Turmoil whirled in her head as she drove back to the ranch.
The house was empty when she got there, which was some small relief, since it meant not having to explain herself to anyone else. She showered quickly, and then packed up. She hadn’t brought a lot of clothes with her, so it didn’t take long. She left a note on the kitchen table that she’d gone back to Denver and went out to her car.
Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from looking toward Rambling Mountain. From imagining Jed and Rufus picking their way from that weathered shack down to that creek-side meadow.
The acute ache inside her was still mired in fury. So much so that she still couldn’t tell which was worse.
Get over it, April.
She tossed her suitcase into the trunk, slammed it shut loudly and got behind the wheel. “You’ll be home by supper,” she told herself as she drove away from the big house.
A combine was lumbering down the highway when she reached it and she waited for it to pass. Her gaze kept straying to the mountain.
“Hurry up,” she muttered to the tractor. Which was about as effective as spitting into the wind.
Finally, it was past and she pulled out onto the highway, the mountain in her rearview mirror.
She made it nearly to Weaver, before she suddenly pulled around in a U-turn and started back. Her pulse thrumming in her ears, she drove past the ranch entrance. Caught up to the combine and passed it, too, while the mountain loomed larger and larger until she turned off onto the private road that wound its way up the side. The pickup truck was gone when she finally reached the barricades and the UTV was parked on the other side of the boulders.
Jed wasn’t there. And that was just as well.
She pulled out her pen and quickly scrawled on the back of a business card. Then she walked up the rest of the way, bypassed the weathered cabin, and pushed open the door of Jed’s bunkhouse. She already knew it had no lock.
She didn’t linger. Didn’t want to allow the sight of the plaid blanket on the bed to remind her. She placed the business card squarely on the top of the blanket and turned around.
Samson was sitting in the doorway, flopping his tail. The teeth that could look so ferocious now curved as if in a happy grin.
She crouched down next to the dog and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Take care of him,” she said against that thick gray hair.
Then she stood and walked away.
Not even the constant wind was enough to dry her cheeks.
* * *
Muddy and tired from a day of wrangling cows for a man who wasn’t even around anymore to care, Jed let himself and Samson into the bunkhouse.
He noticed the small white rectangle sitting on his bed almost immediately and knew in his bones that it was from April.
He gave the bed as wide a berth as the dinky place allowed and threw off his filthy clothes in the bathroom. “Come on, dog.”
Samson whined. But he was as muddy as Jed was and finally the dog stepped under the shower that Jed didn’t bother trying to heat.
He scrubbed over the dog until he was clean enough to let run free and then he just stood there alone, head bowed under the beat of the icy spray until the water pooling around his feet ran clear.
He shut off the water. Got out and sluiced the moisture from his face and raked his hair out of his eyes with his fingers. His grim face stared back at him from the mirror on the medicine chest and he yanked it open, pulling out the bottle of aspirin. He swallowed one dry, then went out to pick up the business card she’d left.
A Promise to Keep Page 17
