by Elsie Davis
Her father looked at her, one eyebrow raised in question.
“I’m not going to discuss the details, because I didn’t come into town to stir up trouble. Trust me, the past is best left to the past.”
“If you say so, but I think you’re making a mistake hiding in the city.”
She was beginning to agree. But what else was there? A life of emptiness because the one man who’d stolen her heart had thrown it away carelessly.
“My mistake to make, though.” That didn’t sound right. “Not that it’s a mistake,” she corrected quickly.
“Whatever you decide is your business, but the farm is my business. Let’s agree to disagree, on both subjects.”
Chapter Twelve
The following morning, Dylan drove toward the back of the property to fix a downed section of fence he’d noticed yesterday. The truck rumbled down the dirt path, and Dylan caught himself whistling “Brown Eyed Girl.” Kayla had understood him all too well the other night when he’d made a color substitute in the song, and after last night, he understood all too well what he had been missing when he let her go.
Precious gold and completely out of reach. It would be easier to hang on for an eight-second ride on the meanest bull in the county, but it was a ride he was willing to take.
He stripped off his shirt, the early morning sun already holding the promise of another scorcher day. Dylan pounded nail after nail into the fence to make the necessary repairs. Sweat dripped from his brow, blinding him. He paused to wipe his forehead with the bandana tucked in his back pocket.
The low, distant rumble of cow hooves reached his ears. Dylan swung around to scan the horizon. Off in the distance, he spotted a large herd of cattle stampeding in his direction. Several ranch hands were gaining ground on the stampeding herd as they gave chase. Their shouts could be heard above the din of hooves as they barreled toward him.
Patches streaked out like lightning on the right side of the herd, his bark wild and excited as he nipped at their heels.
Damn dog.
This was exactly why he didn’t want a dog on the ranch. History was repeating itself all over. It was Buster he saw running next to the herd. The scene replayed in his head as if it were yesterday. The herd turned and Buster never stood a chance, tumbling under the herd’s giant bodies over and over. Dylan couldn’t get to him and he’d never felt so helpless.
Shouts from the ranch hands reached his ears, and everything snapped back into focus.
The guys were gaining ground, forcing the herd toward the river. A slight turn to the left sent them careening in his direction. He jumped in the truck to avoid being trampled and searched for Patches. He had to save the dog. Buster. Patches. Derek. It was a mindless blur as he searched the herd for the little dog. Dylan would do anything to save Derek the gut-wrenching heartache of losing his best friend.
Leroy pushed his mount harder to get to the head of the herd and at the last second, managed to turn the herd back in the direction of the river.
Dylan spotted Patches. Thank God, he was still alive.
“Patches!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping out of the truck.
The dog paused to look in his direction. “Come,” he shouted.
To his surprise, the dog looked back once at the slowing herd and then back at Dylan, before finally following his command.
Grabbing Patches when he got close enough, he tossed him in the truck.
“Damn mangy mutt. This is exactly why you can’t stay. I was a fool to think this would work out. Kayla was wrong, and Derek’s going to have one more thing to hate me for.” Dylan glared at the dog crouched in the corner, his head between his paws as if he understood every word.
“I should have never let her sweet talk me into letting you stay. You’re history.”
Dylan watched as the ranch hands brought the herd to a halt at the river. One of them waved to signal everything was under control. He breathed a sigh of relief.
It would break Derek’s heart, but the dog had to go before the cattle, the dog, or someone else got hurt. Someone like Derek or Kayla. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take for the people he loved most in life. After school, he would have to tell Derek.
Hours later, the conversation had gone exactly as he’d expected. Derek hated him. What he hadn’t expected was for his brother to immediately call Kayla for reinforcement. Standing his ground would be a hell of a lot harder with the sweet and sassy minx who unknowingly held his heart in the palm of her hand.
It wasn’t long before she knocked at the door.
“Dylan, can we take a walk? Derek, you don’t mind, do you?” Kayla asked.
Derek shook his head from side to side, crocodile tears in his eyes.
“I’ll take a walk, but I’m not changing my mind, so you can save your breath if that’s what you have planned,” Dylan said.
“Don’t. Not here.” Her voice was like warm honey dripping over his brain.
“I’m going to my room with Patches. You two do what you want,” Derek grumbled. He left the room without a backward glance, Patches close on his heels.
Dylan stepped off the porch, and the two of them walked in silence until they were well out of range of the house.
“I understand why you’re angry, but dogs can be trained. He chewed through his rope. The answer is to get him a chain, not get rid of him. You’re not giving Patches a real shot at fitting in here. Let Derek work with him. He loves the dog and would do anything to keep him.”
“Someone could have been hurt today. He caused a stampede of over fifty head of cattle. What if it had been Derek out there working on the fence, and he didn’t know what to do?” Images of the cattle stampeding toward his brother, crushing him under their massive weight filled him with horror. It was too dangerous. His father was right. There were dogs trained to herd cattle, but they weren’t family pets, they were working dogs.
“In a few years, he would know what to do. And in a few years, the dog would be trained.”
“This isn’t the place for Patches. You need to take him home with you.”
“This is about Buster, isn’t it?”
Dylan scowled. “I wouldn’t want Derek to go through a similar experience.”
“Your experiences made you the man you are today. Is that a bad thing?”
How the hell was he supposed to answer the question? She’d twisted this angle to her benefit. She stopped walking and touched his arm casually, but there was nothing casual about the way it made him feel. Once upon a time, a long time ago, her touch had branded him. And it still held the same power.
“Dylan, give him a second chance. Let him work with the dog and train him. I know you want what’s best for him, but don’t you see, the dog is the best thing for him,” she pleaded.
“If I do, will you give me a second chance?” he demanded. Two could play her game. They both wanted something, and he wasn’t above coercion.
“That’s blackmail,” she gasped.
He took a step closer and leaned down for his second taste of heaven in five years.
His arms went around her and pulled her against his body when she didn’t resist. He deepened the kiss until her lips opened enough to tangle his tongue with hers. Sweet mother. She belonged to him. He could taste it in her kiss. How could he make her understand the truth of what still existed between them? Of where she belonged?
He moved his hands down to mold over her soft feminine curves, lifted his head, and was encouraged by the desire flaming in her eyes.
“Tell me there’s nothing between us, and I’ll let you go.”
…
“There’s nothing between us.” Four impossible words ripped from the depths of her soul. Kayla saw her own pain echoed in Dylan’s eyes right before he closed them. Seizing the moment, she slipped out of his arms and ran to where she left Dizzy.
She launched herself into the saddle with one swift move, ignoring Dylan as he called out. A quick flick of her heels, and her m
are was off and running.
It was self-preservation that had forced the impossible words from her lips.
Dylan’s kiss brought up too many memories, his words the ones she’d longed to hear from his lips. But it was too late. Too late. Too late. The words repeated in her head with each pounding hoof as they raced across the meadow.
Neither her heart nor her brain had forgotten him. The void left in the pit of her belly from his betrayal gutted her the same way it had when she was eighteen. All the running in the world hadn’t changed a single thing. Dylan Hunter was the love of her life and the bane of her existence.
Tears streaked down her face, clouding her vision. Kayla gave Dizzy the lead, letting the mare run wherever her heart desired, as long as it was away from what Kayla’s heart desired. Dizzy seemed to understand her need to escape perfectly.
She leaned down to hold on to the mare’s long, solid neck as she galloped across the field and Kayla reveled in the freedom.
Hours later, she returned to the barn, completely exhausted. The ride had given her plenty of time to realize several things she hadn’t been prepared to admit.
The country was a part of her soul, and coming back to her roots was the piece of the puzzle she’d been missing. She’d never be happy living in the city, tending to people’s cats and dogs without ever really getting to know anyone. Helping birth a newborn calf had brought her more joy than all the years of training she’d been through previously. There was something about connecting with life and connecting with folks around here that felt good. Really good.
Her only problem was Dylan. She might still love him, but she wasn’t sure it was enough to forgive him.
Back at the barn, Kayla picked up the curry brush and began to rub Dizzy’s coat, her hands moving by memory rather than her tear-blurred vision. She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand, angry she couldn’t control her emotions.
“Why, Dylan, why? How could you walk away and leave me? And what kind of man turns his back on his own son? And what does it say about me if I still love you?” she sobbed out. Dizzy couldn’t answer, but the horse nuzzled her head against Kayla’s shoulder as if she understood.
The barn door banged.
“Is someone there?” No one answered.
Chapter Thirteen
Derek had taken off without a word after Kayla left, so when Dylan heard the front door slam and the heavy stomping up the stairs, it was a welcome relief. It wasn’t the first time Derek was in a snit, and it wouldn’t be the last, but at least he had Patches to console him this time.
Except you’re planning to take away his new best friend.
Kayla’s words echoed through the room, over and over. Nothing a chat with Johnny Walker couldn’t drown out.
But he was wrong.
Three glasses of whisky later, the only thing that had changed was the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes. If anything, Kayla’s words had become a more dominant force in the room, pushing him to the edge of no return. She didn’t understand. No one could understand the pain of losing your best friend. It was something he’d never shared with anyone, and Kayla had come too damn close to guessing the truth. But the truth didn’t mean Dylan could handle history repeating itself.
He stood and headed for the stairs. Five a.m. came the same time every day, no matter what time he went to bed. And tomorrow’s long to-do list had one more item he hadn’t planned on. Returning the dog to old Mr. Thompson.
He stopped outside Derek’s door and paused for a second before turning the knob. The door creaked open, but Derek was fast asleep, Patches curled up in a tight ball at his side. The dog lifted his head to look up at Dylan, his tail thumping against the bed repeatedly to say hello.
Dylan made a move toward the bed and Patches started to rise.
“Stay,” Dylan commanded.
The dog laid his head back down but continued to watch Dylan with interest.
Buster had been a great dog, but a terrible ranch dog. Maybe if he’d spent more time training him and less time trying to get out of his responsibilities by playing hooky and hanging with his friends, his dog would still be alive. It was a hard lesson, and one Dylan would never forget.
Would the outcome have been any different if his father had shown him the way?
Dylan sat down on the edge of the bed and the dog skootched toward him. Half puppy, half dog, his big black eyes looked up at him with trust. He reached out to stroke the dog’s face, his palm connecting with wet tongue instead. Dylan’s heart melted like ice in a pot over a fire.
The mutt had stolen his way into Dylan’s heart just as assuredly as he had into Derek’s. There was no way he could get rid of the dog. Patches was here to stay.
The next morning Dylan left a note for Derek on the kitchen table, he headed for town to pick up a load of feed. The note was insurance Derek wouldn’t skip from school again. The kid came up with enough reasons of his own without Dylan adding to the list.
Three hours later, Dylan pulled into the driveway and around to the barn to unload the feed. His body ached from loading the hundred-pound feed bags alone, but it had been that or wait for Mr. Thompson’s son to get back from his errand to help. There was too much to be done at the ranch to wait around for anyone.
He glanced over at the side yard of the house to check on Patches but didn’t see the little dog. He crossed the yard to look around, hoping he was tied up and sitting under the porch. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he drew close. The chain sat in a heap by the tie down. Either Derek had forgotten to tie him up this morning, or Patches had slipped the collar, but Dylan was laying odds against his brother, because the collar was nowhere in sight.
He should have known the kid wasn’t up to the responsibility.
“Patches,” Dylan called out, crossing the yard. Nothing. He opened the front door, “Patches, here, boy,” he called out again. Nothing.
Dylan checked the kitchen. The dog’s food and water bowls were missing, as well as the bag of dog food Kayla had left.
A quick glance at the kitchen table showed no signs of Derek having eaten the cereal Dylan had poured this morning. His heart constricted when his gaze landed on the note he’d left tucked under the spoon.
Derek hadn’t come down to breakfast, which meant he hadn’t seen the note. He didn’t know Dylan had changed his mind about Patches. Damn. Damn. Damn.
He took the stairs two at a time, hoping and praying his suspicions were wrong.
Dylan pushed open the door. Nothing. He raced back to the barn. “Derek! Patches!”
Thankfully, Jezebel was still in her stall. Derek couldn’t have gone far.
He checked the calf stall, knowing how much Derek loved the baby calves. Nothing.
He called the school, only to find out his brother hadn’t shown up today. Dylan was 99 percent sure his brother had run away.
And it was his fault.
If only he’d listened to or paid more attention to his brother. He had to find him. His parents had trusted him to do right by Derek, and he’d failed. Miserably. He called Leroy, hoping someone had spotted his brother or the dog. He hung up the phone in frustration. Another dead end.
One last call, and then he would pull out all stops, notify the sheriff, and organize a search party.
“Lou, it’s Dylan. Have you seen any sign of Derek or Patches?”
“No. Sorry. Shouldn’t he be at school this time of day?”
“Yes. But I got back from town and some of his things and the dog are missing. I called the school, but Derek never showed up.”
“Let me look around, and I’ll get back to you,” Lou said, worry evident in his voice.
“Any chance they’re with Kayla?” Dylan asked hopefully. Derek trusted her, and it stood to reason he would turn to her now.
“No. Sorry to have to tell you, but Kayla left town late last night.”
“Left?” First Derek, and now Kayla. Everyone he loved was deserting him.
>
He fought back against the pain gripping his chest. He couldn’t worry about her right now. She was a grown woman, old enough to make her own choices, and she didn’t need him. That much was clear. But Derek needed him.
“Left as in back to the city. Said something came up at the clinic and she had to get back.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll wait for your call to see what you find before I notify the sheriff.” The next ten minutes were the longest of his life. He answered on the first ring when Lou called him back.
“Sorry, Dylan. There’s no sign of him here, and I think you’re right about him leaving. I found his bike in the barn, his book bag emptied of his school things, and Mary said it looks like some food is missing from the fridge along with some bottled water. I reckon you ought to be calling in for help.”
“Thanks. I’ll get right on it.” He’d driven his brother away when he’d threatened to take away his new best friend. Dylan knew what it was like to lose a dog, and he wouldn’t wish those feelings on anyone, least of all Derek. He’d been such an idiot. All along, his brother had needed him, and while he tried to do right by him, the reality was, he hadn’t given him what he needed. At least nothing a boy could hold on to. No one to make him feel loved.
“Any idea why he ran? Might help us to know where to look?”
“I told him he had to get rid of the dog. I changed my mind, but he doesn’t know it.”
“Interesting both Kayla and Derek are running away from you. Maybe it’s high time you take action and show them how you feel.”
“I’ve tried, trust me, I’ve tried.”
“Maybe that’s the problem. You’re trying instead of doing. If he started out here, there’s a good chance he’s still somewhere on the farm. Mary and I will head out and start looking. You might want to call Kayla.”
“I’ll think about it. I’m sure we’ll find him holed up somewhere and wishing he was home,” Dylan said, trying to sound hopeful. She’d made her decision and left.
“It’s your call. But she loves your little brother, and she knows this property better than anyone.”
