by Leigh Riker
Dallas flinched a little. The money he might have won there would have helped his adoptive parents, for whom he felt responsible. His mother hadn’t been well lately—he’d recently stopped briefly in Denver to see her, but he had to check on her again soon. He owed the Maguires everything, and during his recovery he’d been sending part of his savings to them each month rather than some of his earnings. His accounts weren’t growing right now, but at the moment his task was to keep Ace’s spirits up. Rah-rah.
Ace wasn’t talking now, a bad sign, and his silence was another harsh reminder that Dallas wasn’t winning any prize money or points. His lack of status worried him. He’d been doing great, managing to conquer his nerves, until that bull tossed him clear across the ring in Lubbock late last year. More recently, he’d fallen off in Houston. Every cowboy in the business suffered injuries—sometimes bad ones—and Dallas had had his share even before this. “You can count on me, Ace.”
“Any chance you can ride in Cody this summer, then? A good venue for your comeback.”
Comeback? He was that far out of the running? The temptation to say yes made Dallas’s blood rush, quick enough to make him light-headed. If he didn’t send Ace some signal that he was almost ready to compete again, he’d find himself without representation.
“Cody,” he repeated like a man stumbling out of a dream. It was the capital of rodeo, and the events there were already in full swing, including some fine bull riding. “I’d say sure, but—” Did he want to kill himself? The doctors had warned him—
“Don’t push it,” Ace said for him, though Dallas didn’t quite believe his show of support, which got thinner every time they talked, the tone of his voice cooler. For a long time, they’d been friends as well as agent and client, almost brothers, but he could tell Ace was about to hang up, move on to another client who was still making real money. “Thanks for checking in.”
What was left of this year’s schedule scrolled through his head. Calgary in July, another classic, beckoned to him like a siren’s call. Not much time before that either, not enough to ease Ace’s mind. But in the weeks ahead, if Dallas spent too much time alone—as Lizzie did—he’d only get down and dark.
Lizzie Barnes...with tears in her green eyes, that neat bob she wore without a dark hair out of place, the defeated slump of her shoulders. He’d hoped to cheer her up, but she’d made herself clear. Not interested. What was her deal? He couldn’t deny his attraction to her or the fact they’d fallen into bed together once—my bad—but having dinner in the best local restaurant sure didn’t mean he wanted anything more.
That wouldn’t be fair to her, even when the particulars of that afternoon in May had lodged in his head. The sweet feel of her in his arms, her tears, their kisses... He’d certainly owed her that apology. Besides, what was he thinking? She had a family, and he was nowhere near ready for that.
When Dallas had first moved in, her son Jordan’s eyes had lit up. He wasn’t a ranch kid, like many of his friends, but having a rodeo cowboy next door gave him bragging rights. Lizzie’s middle child, though—her daughter—had just as quickly distrusted him. She seemed protective of her mom. The littlest guy Dallas didn’t know at all. He wasn’t good with kids. And for the next few years—God willing—he had to keep his focus. He wasn’t about to complicate his life by getting involved with his pretty, vulnerable neighbor. So, what’s your brilliant idea, Maguire?
He still needed to convince Ace he was really on the mend. And that he was using his off time more wisely than he had in Houston. He had to come up with something...
The idea hit him like that sudden swivel of the Brahma’s hips that had ended his previous season. Dallas had a lot in common with the stubborn bulls he rode. “Ace? Listen. Don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. There’s a rodeo coming up right here in Barren.” He took a breath. “I’m not sure of the date but I could get back in the saddle then, so to speak, before I hit the road and we’re both in the money again.”
“I’ve never heard of a rodeo in Barren,” Ace said, clearly doubting him.
“You probably wouldn’t. It’s a small one,” Dallas improvised. “Not sanctioned, but I should stand a good chance. I could ride one of their bulls like I was sitting in a rocking chair.”
“Well, if you say so...”
His mind was spinning. Ace had been right. There was no rodeo in Barren.
Dallas already felt guilty for the small lie he’d told. But at least he wasn’t obsessing over Lizzie Barnes now, and he’d bought himself some time.
CHAPTER TWO
“MOM! GUESS WHAT?” Jordan shouted into the phone the next morning. “When we got to the resort, Dad took us to play miniature golf—and I won! Stella did terrible.”
“Don’t embarrass your sister,” Elizabeth said at the same instant her daughter yelled, “I did not! I was good, right, Mommy?”
“I’m sure you were.” Stella was her little worrywart and had suffered—if not as openly as Seth—during the divorce proceedings. She’d adored her father, who’d let her down last winter then all but disappeared from her life until he’d come up with the summer plan. Their children’s sweet voices, even raised in typical sibling battle, flowed through Elizabeth like warm molasses. “I miss you,” she said above the din, then in the background heard Seth’s softer tone, his tears.
“Mama, I want to come home.”
“He’s such a baby,” Jordan chimed in, chanting, “Baby, baby... He almost threw up in the car. Again.” Always eager to display a tough act, he’d become the self-appointed man of the family as if he felt he had to adopt Harry’s role.
“Please. No more,” Elizabeth said. “Jordan, get your father.”
Seth was bawling now, hard enough to make her forget yesterday’s encounter with Dallas Maguire and the apology she now needed to make.
“Sweetie, don’t cry. Hey, I saw Emmie yesterday and she says hello.” It was a reminder that wouldn’t help, and Elizabeth immediately wished she’d bitten her tongue. She had nothing against the sweet child who’d become Seth’s best friend at day care, and in September they’d be first graders together, but this was a sensitive issue for Elizabeth. For Seth too at the moment.
“I want to see Emmie! She’s my sister! Like Stella!”
When that news had broken, Elizabeth had been honest with her children, not wanting them to get blindsided by someone’s thoughtless comment.
Harry suddenly took the phone. “What’s all this?”
“He’s homesick,” Elizabeth said. It should have been obvious.
Her ex used his best stern voice—he’d always considered himself the disciplinarian, although he’d rarely been around when such eruptions happened. “Stella, Jordan...stop fighting! Take your brother into the other room. I can’t hear myself think.”
“I can understand why Seth feels that way,” she said, teeth clenched. “And you know he gets carsick. Are you sure you can handle this? Having the kids all summer?”
She heard him sigh. “Miniature golf yesterday was like World War III. At dinner last night, not a single thing on the menu was acceptable to them, including Seth—and of course, he spilled his milk all over the restaurant table.”
“You know he only eats grilled cheese sandwiches when we—when he eats out.”
He bypassed that. “What about Stella? I’ve seen her order pizza before.”
“Only plain, no stuff on it.”
“Then Jordan stuck his finger right in her macaroni and cheese, the only entrée she would eat.” He paused. “Can I handle them? What kind of question was that?”
“Well, from what I just heard—”
He cut her off. “I am not going to debate my abilities as their father. What is this, Elizabeth? I hope you don’t have some harebrained idea to get my visitation revoked merely because the kids are out of control. That’s not my fault.”
“I think it is—you’re there, I’m not—but don’t be paranoid. The court has spoken, your visitation is already mandated, including this summer, and this isn’t getting us anywhere.” She added, “Do you want me to come for Seth? I can bring him home—”
“He’s fine with me. You coddle him.”
Elizabeth’s teeth clenched. “He’s barely six years old, Harry. Stop treating him as if he were one of your aides at town hall who’s expected to jump to do your bidding.”
“As you well know, I’m not mayor any longer, thanks to this ridiculous turn of events. We could have made it work, if only you’d listened to your mother.”
“No,” she said, “you made your choice. Then, when everything became public knowledge about Emmie, I had to make mine. I’m still the town laughingstock.”
He made a scoffing sound. “Aren’t you imagining that? You have lots of friends. I’m sure they haven’t abandoned you because of my little indiscretion.”
“I don’t see that as little. I had standing in this community and now I don’t. My mother isn’t the only one who thinks I should forgive and forget. Of course, that’s due to her own broken marriage years ago...” She trailed off into a lengthy silence. Elizabeth felt tempted to pack an overnight bag and fly to Denver to rescue Seth, her baby, who was showing signs of distress.
“It’s easy to see what I’m up against here,” Harry finally said. “You’ve made me into the bad guy, encouraged the kids to take your side.”
“I did not. Am I the one who took up with Sierra Hartwell, that poor woman?” After a bad car wreck, Harry’s former girlfriend had died, leaving her daughter, Emmie, three years old at the time, with no guardian, and Elizabeth didn’t blame Sierra anyway. The affair had been Harry’s doing. In her view, Sierra was another of his victims. Thank goodness, Emmie lived now with the county sheriff and his wife, who were Elizabeth’s good friends. Her voice trembled. “What kind of person are you? I don’t know you anymore,” she said. “It was your idea to take the children to Colorado. You’re the adult in the room. Try to be there for them, will you?”
Harry took his usual logical stance. “I am here—in this condo with the Front Range of the Rockies in the backyard. They have everything they could possibly want. A playground, swimming pool, hiking trails, game room—”
“Will you ask Seth if he wants me to come?” Elizabeth didn’t hear any commotion from the other room now, but that didn’t ease her mind.
“No, I will not. He’s fine, I told you.” And to be fair, the shouting and tears had stopped. “They’re all watching some movie about animated cars.”
Yet she still couldn’t relax. Sure, some adjustment to being away from home was to be expected, especially for Seth as her youngest, but not being able to comfort him hurt her even more, deep inside, than all the town gossip did. Her three children might as well have been on some distant planet... “Don’t let them spend too many hours on their iPads,” was all she could think of to say, but something else nagged at her.
Elizabeth could imagine him gritting his teeth too. “If I could run the town of Barren, I think I can deal with three children under the age of ten.”
A thought blindsided her before she took her next breath. Were they quiet only because of their fixation on the movie? Or was there someone else in that room she couldn’t see from her helpless place here in Kansas? Another woman to soothe her children? She hadn’t considered that. She wanted to know yet didn’t ask. And wouldn’t Jordan, the tattletale in the group, have mentioned someone else on vacation with them?
“Trust me,” Harry said in that cold tone she’d come to despise, and which reminded Elizabeth of her mother, whose moral authority was never to be questioned.
“Harry, you destroyed my trust.”
* * *
HIS TALK WITH Ace O’Leary and the small lie he’d told continued to worry Dallas. As usual, so did his adoptive parents. Dallas had phoned them earlier, but on his way to the McMann ranch this morning to see about a temporary job, he didn’t feel reassured.
“We’re fine, honey,” his mom had insisted from their suburban home near Denver.
“Don’t worry about us,” his dad chimed in, but underneath their expected reassurances, Dallas heard a note of what sounded like a cover-up.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked Millie Maguire. “How were your test results?”
“A touch of heart failure,” she admitted, making Dallas’s stomach roll. A touch? “She prescribed medication. I feel on top of the world again.”
“Dad?”
“No, really. She does. You should see the pink in her cheeks. The swelling in her ankles has already gone down.”
By the time the call had ended, Dallas suspected there was no telling what the truth was. Joe and Millie always tried to deflect his concerns, but Millie’s health had been steadily declining in the past few years. Now, always fearing the worst news, Dallas dreaded every phone call, and he tried to visit them more often to gauge things for himself. But that wasn’t his only problem.
He couldn’t help his parents financially when their bills kept going up and he wasn’t earning or saving any money. He was done sitting around. He needed a temporary job to tide him over.
The most likely place to get hired was Clara McMann’s ranch, where his brother, Hadley, was foreman and would eventually become the owner. When Dallas got there, he found Hadley—tall, muscled, with a powerful build—saddling a horse. He barely glanced at Dallas, who got out of his truck then reached back inside for the cane he tried not to rely on. The ground here was uneven, and his hip felt cranky this morning. Which wouldn’t help his cause.
“Glad I caught you,” he said. Except for the brief wave he’d gotten, his big brother didn’t appear to have time for him. Dark-haired like Dallas, but unsmiling now, he was already fastening the sorrel’s bridle, checking the saddle girth. Dallas eyed him. “For a man who just got married, you don’t look happy.”
His blue eyes, the same shade as Dallas’s, hardened. “We’ll be checking fence today—nothing new. A regular chore and I’m supposed to grin like some fool?”
The scowl on his face sure said otherwise. Ever since Hadley had told Dallas he was getting married for the second time, he’d rarely stopped smiling. Sappy enough to make Dallas look away. At the wedding two months ago, in which Dallas had served as best man, Hadley and his bride, Jenna, had gazed into each other’s eyes with apparent adoration. Had something happened to change that? Dallas didn’t like to think so any more than he wanted to believe his mom was truly ill. His only brother’s life, most of it spent in foster care, had been a hard one. His first marriage didn’t improve things, and then Hadley had suddenly become a widower, a single dad with a pair of newborns to look after. He doted on his now twenty-month-old twins and deserved only the best.
“Something’s bothering you.”
Hadley sighed heavily. The admission seemed torn from him. “Jenna’s great with the babies—our twins—and it feels like she’s always lived here on the ranch with me, but after I finished feeding horses this morning, I found her in the house, in the nursery, crying. She won’t tell me why.”
This was a new side of Hadley, who’d once tried to overcome their grim boyhood by covering up his feelings and pushing people away. Jenna had softened his edges, but there might be a simple explanation for this. Dallas was reminded of something an old rodeo buddy had experienced when he and his wife were having a baby. “What if she’s pregnant? Women get touchy, I hear.”
Another reason Dallas was staying single for now—he wasn’t ready to marry or become a parent. He liked his niece and nephew, but with Hadley’s twins, once the temper tantrums began, Dallas could go home. He preferred watching rodeo tapes to walking the floor all night with a crying baby. He supposed he’d change his tune, though, when he had one of his own. Someday.
Hadley’s mouth tightene
d. “Jenna can’t have children.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.” It didn’t surprise him that Hadley hadn’t mentioned his wife’s infertility before. He’d probably seen no reason to share that with Dallas. After the decades they’d spent apart, they weren’t that close again yet. “Is she okay with that?”
“She has Luke and Gracie now,” his brother said.
Dallas wasn’t convinced that was the whole story, but he let it go. At the age of eight, years after their birth parents had dumped them on the state, Dallas had been shut inside a bedroom in the last foster home Hadley and he had shared. He could still remember the click of that door lock, the raw panic he’d felt at being alone, trapped. Because Hadley had robbed a store shortly after that, he had spent time in a detention center, then gone back into foster care. By then, Dallas had been adopted. The Maguires had tried to find Hadley but the trail had gone cold. Until last December, Dallas hadn’t known where Hadley was, and vice versa.
Hadley’s mood didn’t seem to be improving now, but Dallas still needed to ask about a job. “So. Reason I came by—I’m, uh, looking for work.”
Hadley glanced deeper inside the barn, where Dallas heard movement from a stall. A second later a tall, rangy guy with rumpled dark hair stepped out into the aisle leading a dun-colored horse, and Dallas realized Hadley had said we about the fence. “Calvin Stern,” Hadley told him as the man approached, and Dallas’s confidence took a nosedive.
“Hey.” Calvin shook Dallas’s hand, put the horse in the second set of crossties, then disappeared into the nearby tack room.
“I hear in town the ranch is doing fine.” Dallas hurried on. “Rumor has it you’ve been buying more cattle.” He watched Calvin come out of the room carrying a saddle. “Thought you might be able to use another cowboy.” But obviously Hadley had already hired a hand, and the McMann ranch wasn’t that big or, for that matter, likely profitable enough to support a bigger crew after years of decline. Or did he think Dallas couldn’t do the work?
