by Judy Duarte
“Not much, but thanks to Sully, I’m learning to problem solve.”
Drew pushed away from the doorjamb and straightened. “What’s that mean?”
“It’s really none of your business. And you probably won’t believe me anyway. But I needed to get my foot in the door at the paper, so I took the Dear Debbie position. Since I was at a loss on how to respond, I ran a few problems by Sully, who has more kindness, common sense and understanding of people in his little toe than you have in your big ol’ cowboy body.”
“You mean you don’t have a bunch of troubled friends?” he asked.
She scrunched her face. “I have plenty of friends—smart ones. Nice ones from good families. But we all went different directions after college, and I’m new in Brighton Valley. I haven’t made any local ones yet. Except for the men who live here.”
“What about the article you proposed? What’s that all about?”
What was this, the third degree? She wanted to tell him to take a very long walk off a short pier, one that stretched over shark-infested waters. But lashing out wasn’t going to help much. She needed vindication.
“I proposed a big Sunday spread about the rodeo, the ranch and the children’s home in hopes of gaining financial support.”
His expression softened. Apparently, he’d begun to realize his assumptions and accusations might have been wrong. “I owe you an apology.”
“Yes, you do. But right now, I’m not so sure I want to accept it.” She turned around, set the dryer on high and pushed the start button.
When she turned around, he was still standing in the doorway, blocking her exit.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I have work to do.”
He stepped aside to let her out, and she marched off to find something to do. There was no point in arguing with a man who would never accept her for who she was.
Drew might not have faith in her, but she had faith in herself. Whether he believed it or not, she was going to help Andre reunite with his brothers. And somehow, in the process, she’d finally have a family of her own.
Chapter Twelve
Over the next couple days, Drew kept to himself, but by Friday, his niggle of guilt grew to a steady throb in the chest. He’d been wrong about Lainie, but he had no idea what to do about it.
He could tell her he was sorry, and she might accept his apology. But what about Kara? She wasn’t apt to be as understanding or forgiving. And if not, that would really complicate his life.
Before breakfast, Drew climbed into his pickup and drove several miles down the road to the mom-and-pop market, where some of the locals hung out to while away the time and shoot the breeze. Once he’d parked in front, he entered the store.
A tall, wiry clerk sitting behind the register looked up from the crossword puzzle he’d been working and smiled. “Howdy. Just let me know if I can help.”
Drew sniffed the warm air. “Is your coffee fresh?”
“Sure is.” The clerk got to his feet. “I just made a new pot. Can I get you a cup?”
“Yes, large. Black and to-go.”
“You got it. Want a donut to go with that?”
Why not? He hadn’t eaten breakfast. “Chocolate, if you have it.”
As the clerk took a disposable, heat-resistant cup from the stack and filled it, Drew asked, “Do you carry The Brighton Valley Gazette?”
“You bet.” The clerk pointed a long arm to the left of the register. “It’s a dollar.”
Drew retrieved the newspaper from the rack and returned to the register for his order. He paid with a twenty, pocketed his change and returned to his truck.
Instead of going back to the ranch, he settled in the cab, opened the small-town paper and searched for the Dear Debbie column.
There it was. Right next to the obituaries.
He took a sip of coffee, which hit the spot, then read the first of two letters. It was written by a woman who’d been taken in by a lying boyfriend. But it was Lainie’s response that drew his interest.
I know exactly how you feel. It’s painful to learn that a man you thought was Mr. Right lied to you—or even worse, that he doesn’t trust you. And if that’s the case, he’s not the hero you thought he was.
Lainie must be referring to Craig’s deceit, but Drew had hurt her, too. He was the one who hadn’t believed her. So he wasn’t feeling very heroic right now.
He continued to read the next letter. The writer was a woman who’d gotten angry with her family and, on principle alone, refused several of her sister’s attempts to make amends. Just as he’d done moments before, Drew focused on Lainie’s response, which was especially personal—and telling.
My own family was far from perfect. After my mom died, my sister and I were raised by an alcoholic father who couldn’t keep a job. Needless to say, life was far from easy.
Not long after my seventh birthday, my dad died in a bar fight, and my sister and I were placed in foster care. I’d been suffering from several medical problems that had never been addressed, one of which was life-threatening and required surgery, so the state stepped in and split us up. We ended up in different homes, and she was adopted. I haven’t seen her since.
Forgive me for not feeling very sympathetic to your anger or your plight. I lost the only family I had, and you’re willing to throw away yours. Please reconsider. Love and forgiveness are powerful gifts. But even more so to the person who offers them freely.
A pang of sympathy balled up in Drew’s chest. He grieved for the child Lainie had been, yet he admired the woman she’d become. How could he have forgotten the kindness she showed the retired cowboys or the compassion she had for Andre and his brothers?
He didn’t deserve a woman like her, but he wanted her in his life—if it wasn’t too late. Yet he didn’t move. He continued to sit in his pickup, staring at the newspaper in his hand without reading another word.
With each beat of his heart, he realized it wasn’t just admiration he felt for Lainie. He loved her. Somehow, he had to make things right with her. And between her and Kara, too.
So he started the engine and headed back to the ranch. When he arrived, he spotted an unfamiliar car parked in the yard and Lainie walking out onto the front porch, her curls softly tumbling along her shoulders. She wore a somber expression and carried both a suitcase and a purse.
Panic rose up from his gut, and he crossed the yard to meet her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to town.”
“What about the Rocking Chair Ranch? The men need you.” Drew needed her. “What about your job?”
She didn’t even blink. “I found a woman to cover for me until Joy gets home. I’ll be back for the party.”
Drew had no idea how to bridge the rift he’d created between them, but he had to give it his best shot. “Before you go, I want to apologize.”
She studied him for a moment, then gave a slight shrug. “Okay. You’re forgiven.”
So she said. But Drew couldn’t read an ounce of sincerity in her expression or in her tone. And he really didn’t blame her.
“Can we talk privately?” he asked. “It’s important.”
She continued to stand there, gripping the handle of her bag and clutching her purse. For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it if she did.
He reached for her suitcase without actually taking it from her. “Please?”
She sucked in a deep breath, then slowly blew it out and handed him her bag. “All right. But just for a minute.”
He scanned the yard, spotting several ranch hands coming out of the barn and a couple of the old cowboys rocking on the porch. “Let’s go to my cabin. I’d rather not have an audience.”
She fell into step beside him as they crossed the yard to the cabin. Minutes later
, he opened the front door ahead of her and waited for her to enter. Then he joined her in the small living area and set down her bag near the sofa.
“I’ve been a jerk. I assumed the worst about you, and in that sense, I didn’t treat you any better than Craig did.” When she didn’t object, he continued. “I’ve seen you with the elderly men, watched as you served them meals and laughed at their jokes. And I’ve seen you with Andre. You’ve got a good heart, and only a blind fool would’ve missed that.”
Her expression softened a tad, and she ran her hand through her glossy curls. “I told you that I forgave you.”
“Yes, but you really didn’t mean it then. Do you now?”
The corner of her lips quirked, revealing the hint of a smile. “Yes, I suppose I do. But it was more than just your distrust and lack of faith in me that hurt. You questioned my competency as a journalist, and...” She clamped her mouth shut as if having second thoughts about going into any more detail than that.
“Again,” he said, “I’m sorry. There’s so much about you that I admire. I’d really like to start over.”
Her brows knit together. “In what way?”
“It would be great if we could roll back the time to when you offered me that sugar cookie. Or when the wagon’s tailgate broke.”
She didn’t seem to see any humor in that suggestion.
“Let’s just start at an hour before that call with my sister the other night.”
“When we were in the kitchen?” she asked.
“Yes. If we were to start again there, I’d take you outside on the porch with me. Then I’d ask about your early years. And I would’ve really listened. I would have admitted that it broke my heart to think of you losing touch with your twin.”
A tear spilled down Lainie’s cheek, and she swiped it away with the back of her hand and sniffled. “Rickie was my only sister, my only family.”
The reason he’d wanted to backpedal was to introduce her to Kara in another way, a better one.
“I have a sister, too,” he said, “and she’s my only family. She’s pregnant and going through a divorce.”
Lainie blinked back her tears. “I didn’t realize Craig was...”
Drew placed his index finger on her lips to halt her explanation. “I believe you, Lainie. And I should have from day one.”
“It’s weird,” she said, her voice as soft as a whisper. “People think I went after him, but it’s the other way around. I’d been reluctant to date him at all. Looking back on it now, I realize that I’d always craved having someone to love, and he picked up on that need and used it to his advantage.”
“Craig’s a womanizer,” Drew said. “And apparently, he’s pretty damn good at it.”
Lainie shrugged. “I’d only met him two weeks before—at a coffee shop next to the office where I’d worked at a temp job after graduation. He picked up the tab, and we chatted awhile. I don’t normally talk to strangers, but when he told me he was nursing a broken heart and grieving a failed marriage, I felt sorry for him.
“When he asked me out the next day, I agreed to meet him for lunch at a nearby deli. He asked about my sun sign, which should have been my first clue that he was a player. But I went along with it and mentioned that my birthday was coming up. He surprised me by having a gift delivered to the office—a red dress and an invitation to meet him at Sterling Towers for a birthday dinner. I’m sure you know the rest.”
“Pretty much.”
“It rankles me now, but I went. But I wouldn’t have if I’d known what was going to unfold.”
“Kara found you together,” Drew supplied.
Lainie nodded. “She’d been crying, and she stormed to our booth and asked Craig what in the hell was going on. He told her, ‘Nothing,’ and called her ‘sweetie’ and insisted I was ‘nobody.’”
“I’d like to punch his lights out,” Drew said.
Lainie smiled. “For a moment, I thought your sister was going to do just that. Instead, she snatched the margarita I’d been drinking and splashed the rest of it in my face. I don’t know what stung worse, the icy cold on my skin, the humiliation or hearing Craig call me a ‘nobody.’”
Drew’s heart ached for Lainie. And for a lot of reasons—Craig’s deceit, Kara’s blame, the rumors that claimed Lainie was a villainess.
“Several diners held up their cell phones,” Lainie said, “recording the ugly scene. And before I knew it, I became the night’s social media entertainment.”
“I’ll explain all of this to my sister,” Drew said. “She’ll get over it. Eventually.”
“That’s okay,” Lainie said. “I doubt that she and I will ever see each other again.”
As a tear spilled over and trailed down her cheek, Drew brushed his thumb under her eye, wiping it away. Then he cupped her face with both hands and gazed at her. “Sure, you’ll see her. That is, if you’ll give me a chance to prove myself and go out with me.”
* * *
Drew was asking her out on a date?
Lainie hadn’t seen that coming. “Seriously?”
“You bet I am. My sister will get over blaming you, especially if I vouch for you.”
This conversation wasn’t at all what she’d expected. As she pondered his words and let them settle over her, she kept quiet.
Drew’s thumb made a slow circle on her cheek, singeing her skin. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Lainie. I never expected to. And now that I have, I’ve rethought the future I’d laid out for myself.”
To include her? She wasn’t about to make a leap like that. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me you’ll let me show you that I’m a much better man than Craig.”
“You’ve already proven that a hundred times over.”
Drew brushed his lips against hers in a whisper-soft kiss that stole her breath away.
She was tempted to lean into him, to wrap her arms around him and let him take the lead, but she rallied. “First, before you say anything else, there’s something I need to tell you.”
His hands slipped from her jaw to her shoulders, but he didn’t remove his touch, didn’t remove his heated gaze. He didn’t even blink. “Fire away.”
He trusted her to lay everything on the line?
She sucked in a fortifying breath, then slowly let it out. “When I was a kid, I used to get tired doing the simplest things. But no one ever cared enough to worry about me or take me to the doctor. If they had, my congenital heart defect would have been diagnosed and corrected sooner. As it was, I didn’t have surgery until I was eight.”
“And that’s when you lost touch with your sister.”
She nodded. “It was a lonely, scary time. But don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful that the state stepped in because then a skilled pediatric surgeon made me healthy. Things were better after that, but I was still very much alone and would have given anything for someone to love. At least, someone special.”
“Has there ever been anyone special?”
“My college roommates, but we all went our separate ways. And there was one guy—for a little while. But he wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
“You mean Craig?”
“No, Craig was my second mistake. Right after I started college, I met a guy named Ryan and thought he might be ‘the one,’ but he wasn’t. I can see that now. He kept pressuring me to have sex, but I wasn’t ready. Then one night, I decided to give in, just to please him. But things never even got that far. It turned out badly, and we broke up.”
“You don’t have to talk about it—if you don’t want to.”
“I need to.” It was the lead-in to what she had to tell him. “After I removed my blouse, Ryan froze up. You see, I have a long, ugly scar that runs along my sternum from my open heart surgery, and he was turned off by it.”
>
“Oh, Lainie.” Drew pulled her into his arms, holding her in a way she’d never been held.
She leaned into him, savoring his clean, woodland scent, his warm, comforting arms. “You’re an amazing woman—beautiful, sweet, warmhearted. I don’t want you to freeze up on me, but I’m falling in love with you. And there’s nothing more I’d like than to take you to bed and show you just how much. But I’m a patient man. I’m willing to wait until you’re ready.”
Drew loved her? Could that be true?
She gently pushed against his chest, freeing herself from his embrace. “You haven’t seen that scar yet.”
“I don’t need to.” He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her long and deep. His tongue swept through her mouth, seeking and mating with hers until her knees nearly gave out.
She wanted to cling to him for the rest of her life, but she stopped the kiss before it was too late and took a step back. For once, she needed to let her head rule over her heart.
“Just so there aren’t any surprises...” She unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it off her shoulders and dropped it onto the sofa. Then she unhooked her yellow satin bra and pushed the straps off her shoulders.
As she tossed it aside and stood before him, baring her flaw, his breath hitched. But not in revulsion. His expression was heated, fully aroused with desire.
“Aw, Lainie. You’re beautiful.”
Her hand lifted to her collarbone, a habit she couldn’t seem to break, but he stopped her.
“Don’t.” He gently fingered the faded ridge, then bent his head and kissed the length of it. The warmth of his breath soothed her like a balm, healing the very heart of her.
He caressed the curve of her waist and along the slope of her hips, cherishing her with his touch, telling her without words that she mattered to him. Yet he was providing her with more than comfort, he was stirring her hormones and arousing her senses.
Her nipples hardened, and an ache settled deep in her core. When she thought she might die from pure sexual need, he pulled his lips from hers and rested his head against hers.
“I want to make love with you,” he said. “But I won’t press you until you’re sure about me. About us.”
