But she waited. And waited. And the words never passed his lips. Pretty soon she realized that unless she pushed, he wouldn't "think it was necessary," and she'd wait forever before he ever brought it up again.
So the next time he went into the bedroom to turn on the computer, she waited until he was sitting at the keyboard and then she followed him in.
"So," she said, coming up behind him and deliberately sounding as brisk and businesslike as she could, "show me what needs to be done."
He almost jumped a foot. He shot up out of the chair and spun around to glare at her. "Who invited you in?"
"You did," she said, refusing to retreat an inch. "You gave me your bedroom, remember?" she said, gesturing behind her toward the bed where she slept every night. "And you did say something about book work when we talked."
"It's not nec—" He stopped. He scowled. They both knew what he'd intended to say.
Finally Riley rubbed his hands over his hair and let out a harsh exhalation of air. "I hate this stuff," he admitted.
"Let me see." Dori fetched a chair from the kitchen and came to sit next to him. He moved to make room for her. She could tell he was trying to give her a lot of room. But the space was limited. They were wedged in there together.
It was, she realized, perhaps not the brightest move she'd ever made. Not if she wanted to keep her mind on the computer program, at least.
Which you do, she reminded herself.
So she tried to pay attention to what he told her. She tried not to notice that sometimes when he moved the mouse, their elbows bumped and if he shifted—or she did—their thighs brushed. She tried not to wonder exactly why he cleared his throat a lot and seemed to lose track of what he was saying halfway through each sentence.
Finally he shoved back his chair in disgust. "This isn't working!"
"Let me just look at it for a while by myself, okay? You go see Jake or do whatever else you want to do, and when I need you, I'll come looking."
The minute she said the words, she realized they hadn't come out exactly the way she'd intended. Her cheeks burned. She gave herself a quick shake. She wet her lips and stole one quick glance in Riley's direction.
"About the book work, I mean," she clarified.
"Of course," Riley said. His voice was oddly hoarse. "Go to it," he muttered, and left without looking back.
It was better when he wasn't there. Well, not better precisely. But she could pay attention now. She started reading the fields across the top of the database. "Cows. Calves. Sex." No, it didn't mean that! "Birth weight. Vaccinations."
Focus. Concentrate. Understand.
She didn't think about his nearness anymore. She didn't tingle with awareness at the merest brush of his shirtsleeve against hers. She could do this. Yes, she could.
The phone rang.
She picked it up, expecting it to be for Riley, who never answered it even when he was in the house. Surprisingly, a woman asked for her.
"It's Maggie," the woman said when Dori identified herself. "I'm calling to see if you and Riley and Jake can come out to our place for a barbecue a week from Saturday. I'd try to do it sooner, but Robert has to go to Denver for a few days. And then his brothers are coming and we're having a little reunion, so we thought maybe we'd have you all come, too, and a few neighbors and friends."
"I— That sounds … great," Dori said. "I'll have to ask Riley, of course."
"Don't ask Riley. Just tell him. If you give him a choice, he'll always have work to do so that he can't come."
"You know him pretty well." In the time they had been here, Riley hadn't stopped yet.
"It's not just Riley, it's the breed," Maggie said cheerfully. "Robert's the same way. We've been married nine years now, and I'm still trying to reform him."
"I'm looking forward to meeting him," Dori said. "To meeting all of them."
"And they'll be looking forward to you, too, believe me," Maggie said. There was a great deal of pleasure in her voice. "And the boys are really eager to meet Jake. See you then."
"Yes," Dori said. She sat holding the receiver in her hand long after Maggie had hung up.
Don't ask Riley. Tell him.
No, she wasn't quite brave enough to do that.
He wished to hell Maggie Tanner would mind her own business.
At least, he wished that one second. The next Riley knew he ought to be glad she was taking the initiative to introduce Jake—and Dori—to the community.
Probably he should have done it himself—had a shindig and invited everybody out here to meet them.
Except Riley had the social graces of a Trappist. He'd never entertained anyone in his life.
So Maggie was going to do it for him.
She'd called Dori and invited them. Dori had told him last night. And Dori had said yes.
Of course Dori had said yes.
Why wouldn't she? She probably wanted to go and be the center of attention and meet all the local ranchers and townspeople and have Jake meet Maggie and Tanner's boys and make friends with the other kids his age.
Trouble was, Riley didn't want to.
It wasn't that he was antisocial. He liked a party as well as the next guy. He just liked being on the sidelines of a party. He didn't like being the focus. And while he knew Maggie was ostensibly having them over for everybody to meet Dori and Jake, he also knew his neighbors well enough to know that they'd be looking at him, too. Looking—and conjecturing.
"Ol' Riley's got a gal at his place," Ev Warren or another one of the grizzled old cowhands would say, a wealth of speculation and more than a hint of envy in his tone.
And it wasn't just the men who'd be thinking, either.
The women would be doing some calculating, too. Maggie. Sam Gallagher's wife, Sue. Rick Walker's wife, Tracy. Lucy Haverford at the post office, a busybody if there ever was one. Gretchen, who waited tables at Champion's, and Sybil, the checker at the hardware store. Not to mention Suellen Flynn, the doc's wife.
And Tricia.
Riley didn't doubt for a minute that Tricia and Jeff would be there. Certainly they would. Jeff would want to meet this nephew that Riley had given half the ranch to. And Tricia would, too.
Jeff wouldn't have told her about Jake, Riley knew that. The lawyer was an absolute stickler about client confidentiality, Riley had to give him that.
But even if Jeff never said a word, it wouldn't have taken long for word to pass through the community. Dori had come through town on the way to the ranch. Dori had gone back into town and met teachers, shopkeepers and God knew who all.
If one knew—they all knew.
So Tricia knew.
He wondered what Tricia would think of Jake. He wondered what she'd think of Dori.
* * *
Seven
« ^ »
"Ya know," Jake said to his uncle as they saddled up their horses early the next morning, "someday we oughta bring Mom along."
Uncle Riley tightened his cinch strap and grunted a reply. Jake wasn't sure if it was a yes or a no. Uncle Riley didn't usually have much to say early in the morning. Probably, Jake thought, he should have waited and brought it up later.
"She's a pretty good rider," he added. After all, he'd started now. He couldn't really drop it and then start up again in an hour or two. He'd been thinking about his mom not getting to be a cowboy for a while now.
At first he'd been too busy to think about it. He'd been so excited that he was getting to be a cowboy, that he hadn't thought about anybody else. And he'd been pretty tired, too. Most nights when he and Uncle Riley got home, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open during dinner. Sometimes he watched TV or read a book after. But pretty often he just went to bed.
Being a cowboy was everything Jake had hoped it would be. But he wasn't sure it was so great for his mother.
As far as he could see, she didn't get to do any fun stuff at all.
"Why don'tcha come with us sometime?" he'd asked her last night when she was tuckin
g him in. He'd been a little more awake than usual, and she'd told him a story. The "Stardust cowboy" story, because he'd insisted. "'Cause it's real now," he'd told her.
And so she'd told him the story, using stuff that he described about the things he did with Uncle Riley all day.
And that was when he realized that he knew more about cowboying now than she did.
"Maybe the Stardust cowboy should take you on an adventure," he'd suggested when she'd finished telling him the story and was bending down to kiss him good-night.
"Oh, I think you're having adventures enough for both of us," she said, ruffling his hair. And she'd smiled as she'd kissed him.
But after she'd left, he'd lain there thinking about it. It wasn't fair that he should have all the fun. Besides, just because she came along didn't mean he wouldn't come, too. They could both go cowboying with Uncle Riley.
"We could bring her next time we move cattle," he said now as they headed out. "An' we could bring a picnic an' eat at the swimming hole. That'd be cool, wouldn't it?"
But Uncle Riley was riding a little ahead and when he didn't answer, Jake wasn't sure if he even heard.
He'd heard, all right.
He just didn't know what to say. Somehow he didn't think telling Jake that there was no way on God's earth he was going to bring his mother along would go over all that well.
But he wasn't.
He spent enough of his life aware of Dori Malone. He got to see her every morning when she was fixing them breakfast. He watched her every evening when he went up for dinner. If he could have confined her to the kitchen, it might have been all right. But sometimes he saw her sitting on the porch, drying her hair in the evening breeze, brushing it out and letting the light westerly wind billow it around her face. And sometimes he saw her sitting on the couch next to Jake, her arm around him, both their heads bent over a book. And sometimes he had to sit right next to her while she talked to him about the stuff she'd put into the computer. Then she would point at something and turn and look right at him—her eyes only inches from his, her mouth so close he could see the tiny nick in her front tooth. And sometimes when she talked, she gestured, and her fingers brushed his sleeve or her hand touched his thigh.
And if all that wasn't bad enough, sometimes she invaded his dreams.
Riley had never had such dreams.
None that he'd ever remembered, anyway.
These he couldn't seem to forget. And that made it damned difficult to look her in the face!
So when Jake said they ought to bring his mother along during the day, Riley's instant reaction was No!
His day's work was the only respite he had. He didn't need Dori Malone invading that as well.
But Jake, once he latched on to a notion, didn't give it up easily. Riley had hoped that ignoring him in the morning would put an end to the topic. But they happened to be making a circle up near the swimming hole that afternoon.
"Mom would love this," Jake said. "I say we bring her. She never gets to do anything fun."
"Well, then, maybe you should bring her," Riley said at last. They were sitting by the water's edge, having taken a swim already. They ought to be moving on. There was some fence down south Riley needed to check. But it was warm in the sun, and the lunch Dori had packed them made him feel fat and lazy.
"We could all come," Jake suggested.
"I've got work to do." Riley picked up a rock and flipped it, then watched it skip four … five … six … seven times. He grinned, satisfied that he hadn't lost the knack. Then he turned his attention back to Jake. "But I think it's a great idea for you to do it with her. You can do it tomorrow while I'm up movin' cattle."
"But I want you, too," Jake said. "Can'tcha come, Riley?"
"No."
"But—"
"No!"
If there was one thing he didn't need, it was to know what Dori Malone looked like in a swimming suit.
Now this was more like it.
Dori sat back in the saddle and lifted her face to the sun and breathed deeply of the sweet Wyoming air. It was possible, she thought, that coming with Jake today was going to be a mistake. It would give her an idea of what she was missing when she was home computing or cleaning or doing what needed to be done at the house.
But she couldn't say no when he'd suggested it last night at dinner. "Uncle Riley says he's got to go to the high pasture tomorrow, and so I wondered if you'd want to come ride fence with me."
She had arched her brows and looked at Riley, curious about how he thought she and a seven-year-old were going to be able to ride fence, especially since she didn't know what she was doing.
Riley had just shrugged. "Don't worry. You'll be fine."
Dori thought he was probably right. She'd learned to trust his judgment about ranch matters over the past few weeks. And she'd learned to trust the way he handled Jake. He gave Jake responsibility, but never more than the boy could handle. It was impressive the way he'd developed Jake's sense of competence. She sometimes thought he was a better father than Chris would have been.
That surprises you? she asked herself. How could it, when Riley is here and Chris never even wanted to be around?
Well, it didn't surprise her. But it did make her just the tiniest bit wistful. Here he was, great dad material—not to mention, lean, dark, handsome and just a little shy—and he wasn't married. It was a waste, she thought.
"Why don't you marry Uncle Riley?" Jake's voice, saying words she never dared even think, broke into her thoughts.
"What?" She turned and stared at her son, aware that her face was flaming, hoping that if Jake noticed, he would put it down to the effects of the sun. "What did you say?"
Jake had the grace to look slightly abashed. "I was just thinkin' that we're already sort of a family. An' most families are moms and dads and kids. An' you get along. An' sometimes he looks at you … you know … kinda … interested—" Now it was Jake's turn to color. "I just thought it was a good idea."
"Well, stop thinking," Dori said sharply. "And stop matchmaking."
"What's matchmaking?"
"Trying to find a husband for your mom."
"I don't have to find one. There's one already here," Jake said. "Uncle Riley."
"Your uncle Riley doesn't want to get married."
"How do you know?"
"He told me. He said he wasn't ever getting married. That's why he said you'd be the heir to the ranch."
"That's stupid."
Dori actually shared that opinion, but she didn't think telling Jake so was a very good idea. "It's what he said."
Jake looked disgusted. "Well, maybe I can change his mind."
"Don't you dare! Don't you say one word to him!" Heavens, that was all she needed to make things even more awkward between herself and Chris's brother.
Jake didn't say anything, just touched his heels to the sides of his horse and led the way up the slope. Dori wanted a promise from him, but she couldn't yell at him. So she followed, determined to get it when they stopped again.
But she forgot about it when they came to the crest of the hill and she looked down on the most beautiful little river. The view contained everything she thought Western scenery ought to have. The grassy slope on which their horses stood led gently down to the curve of the river. The river itself was lined with cottonwoods. A half-dozen cattle stood chewing grass; four more lounged in the shade of the trees. It was all very bucolic and peaceful. Beyond them, through the trees, she saw the sparkle of still more water.
"What's that?" she pointed.
"The swimmin' hole I been tellin' you about. C'mon." Jake urged his horse into a trot, and once more Dori followed.
The swimming hole was a treat. Jake, of course, leaped off his horse, loosened the cinch, stripped down to his briefs and jumped in. "Aren'tcha comin' in, Mom?" he yelled from the middle, teeth chattering.
He'd told her to wear her swimsuit. "You gotta swim," he'd urged.
She'd looked to Riley for guidance th
en, too, but he hadn't allowed himself to be dragged into that. He'd kept his nose very firmly in the local paper and he hadn't looked up once.
So Dori had allowed herself to be coerced into donning her suit beneath her jeans. "What about you?" she'd asked her son when they'd left that morning. "Do you have yours on?"
"Nope. Uncle Riley says that's what undershorts are for."
Was that what Uncle Riley wore when they swam? Undoubtedly. Dori had a vision of Riley in his shorts, dripping wet. So much for her peace of mind.
She stripped off her own clothes down to her bathing suit and plunged into the water. It was shockingly cold.
Good, she thought. The better to banish her heated thoughts.
They swam for half an hour. Then they got out and sat on the sandstone rock near the bank and ate the lunch she had brought.
"Do you and … Uncle Riley … come up here often?" she asked.
Jake finished chewing before he answered. "Not as often as I want to," he said. "But we come fairly often. There's cattle up this way we got to check. I should check on those." He jerked his head toward the bunch munching their way through the pasture across the river.
"You know what to look for?" Dori asked him.
"Pinkeye. And any cuts or stuff like that. And they gotta look bright. Not sicklike, you know?"
Dori wasn't sure, but apparently Jake had an idea. "I'm learnin'," he told her. Yes, he was.
It had been a good thing, their move to the ranch. Jake had been doing all right back in Livingston, but he was thriving here. Thanks to Riley Stratton's generosity, his dreams were coming true.
Now she looked over at him as he stretched out on the rocks. He was lean and brown and wiry. But there were more muscles in his arms. He was lither, stronger. He moved with a quick grace now that reminded her of his uncle more than of his father. It was good they had come.
It was.
And if she sometimes wished for more, she knew she had no right.
She'd come for Jake's dreams, not for her own. It was just her bad luck that she couldn't stop thinking about Riley.
THE STARDUST COWBOY Page 10
