The burn deepened, but whether from grief or resentment she couldn't tell. Needing to walk it off, she went down the porch steps and across the fresh-mowed lawn to the fence line. She walked through the gate and headed for the stable.
The man who'd kept the horses when she'd left had been replaced. The new, fresh-faced stable manager, Jeremy, put her in a pair of leather chaps and onto a gentle mare named Lucy Girl.
As soon as she was in the saddle, all the tension drained out of her body.
"Need me to show you how to ride her?” Jeremy asked with a bemused, earnest smile. He had hardly taken his wide eyes off her face since she'd walked up to him and introduced herself.
Stella snorted. “My daddy showed me how to ride a horse before you were born,” she quipped. She tipped the brim of her hat and nickered Lucy Girl into a trot. “Have a nice day."
The cool breeze caressed her face. Closing her eyes for a moment, she absorbed the sensation of sunlight kissing her shoulders. There were miles of country ahead of her. Ridge Range spread out as far as she could see, beckoning her. She was ready to explore. Working Lucy Girl into a light gallop, she took off for the horizon.
* * * *
They spent all day getting to know each other, racing across flat terrain then walking leisurely over hills, admiring the serenity of the landscape. Stella even ventured into the woods and walked to the creek with Lucy Girl walking beside her.
For several minutes, she stood looking in the direction of Jim's cabin. It was still half an hour or so away. She wouldn't go there. Her stomach clenched at the thought as she hopped back into Lucy Girl's saddle. She doubted she ever would visit the site again.
By the angle of the sun, it must've been around five or six when she headed back to the house. Taking her time, she mulled over what she'd learned from Casey. She didn't want to understand their reasons for not telling her the truth. Though she'd just begun to forgive her mother when she'd left Wayback, she would've liked to say goodbye at least.
Squinting ahead, she saw the big, black horse charging straight for her. As the rider came into view, she saw that it wasn't Keefe—not slim enough. Not Casey—not short enough. Her heart thudded when recognition hit her.
Judd Black slowed his mount as he approached her. She pulled back on Lucy Girl's reins when she saw his grim face and guessed why he was there. “They send you out looking for me?"
She'd known the question was useless. But, hell, she'd had to try. He only stared at her, his eyes inscrutable under the brim of his black Stetson. Again his physical appeal struck her. The night before, she'd only had a moment up close and very personal with him. The last time she'd seen him, he still hadn't filled out his long legs or arms though he'd towered far over both the Ridge brothers. She remembered how his skin had stretched taut over the broad bones of his face, giving him a haunted look.
He'd certainly grown into them, limbs and facial features. His jaw flared out from his lengthy chin. The points of his cheekbones were still prominent but muscle had grown over the rest, filling out the rest of his face. His eyes, as she remembered, were narrow and mystifying. Whenever he'd looked at her, she'd been struck by all the different hues of brown, ranging from dark chocolate to golden yellow with specks of deep green splattered here and there.
The burn spread within her again, but this time it was a pleasant sensation that rolled through her whole torso. She sucked in a breath and looked away, steering Lucy Girl around his stallion. Her heart had picked up pace. Breathing deep to dislodge his effect on her, she kicked Lucy Girl into a gallop. Speeding up when she heard the hoof beats of Judd's horse behind her, she glanced back to see him do the same.
A wicked smile broke across her lips when his gaze caught hers. “Race you!” she called then snapped the reins, urging Lucy Girl to leave them in the dust.
They rushed back toward the house. Soon he was next to her, torso bent low over the pommel and head tipped down to keep his Stetson from flying off. She kicked Lucy Girl again, yipping in excitement, a wide smile breaking over her face. Her hat sailed off and her hair flew back. Carefree, she felt wild and more alive than ever.
When the stable house loomed near, they began to slow, giving the horses a break. She gave a panting laugh, throwing her head back. “God, that was great!” She looked over and thought she caught traces of a smile on his face.
He trotted next to her, steering his horse next to Lucy Girl. Leather chaps stretched over his thick, muscled thighs. The sleeves of his long-sleeved button-up were rolled over his forearms. The skin beneath was tanned to perfection and black hair sprung up from the backs of his hands and wrists.
A whistle caught her attention. Her head swiveled around in the direction of the buildings to see Keefe walking toward them, furious. “Where the hell have you been?” he berated when she was within hearing distance. “We've got half the hands out looking for you!"
"I told Jeremy I was taking Lucy Girl for a ride."
"Yeah, and when you didn't come back by lunchtime, we started to worry,” he told her. “Damn it, Stella. You got us all worked up. Dad threatened to get up on Ol’ Big Bear and go looking for you. Anything could've happened!"
"I'm not a little girl on a big horse,” she reminded him. “I just needed a day to myself."
"Well, next time let us know,” he snapped, yanking off his hat. “And get in the house and let Dad know you're back. He's pacing the floors, working himself up to his next heart attack."
"Don't guilt me.” But she steered Lucy Girl in the direction of the stable. Her butt was already aching. A good, long soak in a hot bath sounded downright seductive right about now. Sensing that Judd was no longer beside her, she looked back to see that he'd stopped where they'd first spotted Keefe. Keefe was standing, hands on his hips, glaring in Judd's direction. When she met Judd's gaze, he tipped his hat to her then turned his mount and headed back from where they'd come from.
Keefe watched him go for a moment then followed her in, expression stony.
Stella sighed. Apparently the feud between Judd and her brother was still raging.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Three
After the day's revelation and events, she wasn't quite ready for a family dinner. Instead, she took a long relaxing bath. Nuala brought a tray up to her room as Stella towel-dried her hair.
"When's dinner?” she asked curiously.
"Whenever your daddy calls for it,” she explained. “He eats at his desk or in front of the television. Keefe usually eats out. When Casey isn't working, he's most likely over at Judd Black's place."
Stella's head snapped up, the name catching her attention. “Really?"
"He's got a nice little house about a mile from here. Built it himself. Jim Black bought the land for him before the fire.” Nuala stopped speaking quickly. She did her best to smile and patted Stella's knee. “Eat your supper. I'll be back up later for the tray."
Stella stared at her food. She hadn't eaten lunch, but her stomach rejected even the thought of dinner. Pushing the tray aside, she crossed the room to look out the window. The colors of dusk were dying in the east and flaming in the west. She pulled the silk robe off the bathroom door and slipped it around her shoulders, leaving it untied over her camisole and striped bed boxers.
She grabbed the long slice of garlic bread off the tray, ran her fingers through her still-wet hair and walked out into the hall. On the stairs, she crept to the lower floor, careful not to let the boards creak. Though she was thirty now and a head taller than Nuala, that wouldn't stop the woman from chasing her back upstairs with a broom and force-feeding her.
She walked around the stable to stand at the fence and nibble on the bread.
She'd never get enough Wayback sunsets. A part of her, the woman who'd lived in the city for a decade plus, half-expected to see a high-rise or tower in the distance. Not one building marred the panorama that seemed to stretch on forever and forever. As a kid, she'd held a firm belief that Texas went
on and on until the ends of the Earth.
She heard the sound of footsteps in the grass approaching from behind her as she finished off the bread. Probably Jeremy. She'd seen the lights on in the stable. Or the foreman, Gabe, whom she'd yet to meet. Remembering she was in her pajamas, she pulled her robe around her.
"I love the way the air feels here,” she murmured, watching the fire in the sky take its sweet time burning out. “I love how it tastes."
Her companion didn't speak. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall figure leaning against the fence. She turned her head when he didn't reply. A stunning zap of electricity surged through her.
Judd had taken his hat off, revealing his thick crop of black hair, and was holding it between his hands draped over the fence line, elbows braced on the rail. One boot was propped on the lowest. His eyes squinted against the bright display, trained on the sun's showcase. Beside him, sitting dutifully, was an adorable black mutt with long hair and a short snout.
Stella cooed, patting her knee. She crouched down, spreading her hands as the dog came to her. Rubbing his collarless neck, she murmured, “Hey there, cutie. What's your name?"
She glanced up at Judd for an answer. He only looked at her. She was stunned by the expression in his gorgeous eyes—direct but gentle.
The man was an enigma. It got to her. That pleasant burning sensation began to swell within her again.
The dog's pink tongue flicked over her chin. She laughed, breaking the long, sizzling stare to stroke his head. His hair was silky-soft, inky black just like his owner's. White spots sprinkled the fur under his muzzle and peppered his ruff. She focused on the striking, pale blue eyes and noticed they weren't focused on her. “He's blind?” she asked.
Judd hesitated for a moment then nodded, gaze holding fast on her face, immovable.
"Poor baby.” She ran her hand over the dog's back, glancing up at Judd. “A lot of people don't keep their dogs after they go blind. They put them down or give them to shelters."
Judd held her gaze for another moment then whistled, straightening. The dog turned away from her to trot in his direction. Judd reached out to pet the dog's head.
What an unlikely pair, she thought. A man who didn't speak, and a dog who couldn't see. The bond between them was evident in the way the dog tipped his head back so Judd could scratch the underside of his chin. The lines of Judd's face suddenly didn't seem so sharp or hard. His eyes softened as he poured attention over his furry friend.
He wasn't just an enigma; he redefined the word.
He straightened, catching her stare. Remembering how he'd raced with her over the field that afternoon, how he'd ridden that mean bull at the rodeo, she didn't look away. He must like challenges. Her admiration for him peaked.
She liked a challenge, too.
His brows rose as she stepped up to him. Interest instead of astonishment filled his complex eyes. She came to a halt with the dog between them. “What's with you, Judd?” she asked, punching just enough challenge into the question. “Didn't anyone ever tell you how rude it is to stare?"
Something welled beneath the interest.
Amusement.
A sharp breath escaped her as she watched his eyes smile at her, crinkling up at the corners. She was the astonished one. Her body froze up when he reached out with one of those hard, wide-palmed hands. If she could've moved, she wouldn't have stepped back.
His fingertips brushed over her damp hair, from her brow back over her crown. As she fought hard against the urge to close her eyes, sigh and melt, her scalp tickled under his light touch. His fingers combed through the ends of her tresses and repeated the motion, slower the second time through. Afraid she'd sway, she gripped the rail next to her.
The amusement in his eyes had faded. They'd lifted to the scars she'd left exposed by combing her hair back from her face. His thumb traced the smooth, jagged line, tracing it to the corner of her eye.
She tried to read his face. The tender moment between them intensified. The tingles deepened. Though she wanted to turn his attention away from those imperfections on her face, she drew comfort from his whispering touch. His eyes darkened. There was anger there now. He was angry she'd been hurt. Her heart picked up pace, welcoming his fury.
Blood singing and warming skin chilled by the nightly breeze, she allowed her eyes to close. She could hear him breathing, just barely. Edging closer, she reached up to touch him. Her fingers found the cords of his upper arm. They wrapped around them, gripping them for support.
Finding the scar by her mouth, his fingertips began to trail down the angled mark. Her eyes popped open, fixed on his and her breath seized when he touched the very corner of her mouth. Eyes tracing the line of her lips, his touch lingered. She wanted his lips to do the same. She waited breathlessly, heart thudding hard between them.
His hand dropped and he took a step away from her. Her arm fell from his as he pulled out of reach. Without him near, the breeze swept over her, sneaking into her robe and chilling her to the bone. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous motion she found entirely too beguiling.
She'd forgotten brawny bull riders could get nervous. Or this one at least.
He began to back away from her, hiding his eyes under his hat and dipping the brim without really looking at her. Whistling to the mutt who followed the sound of his retreating footsteps, he left her frozen there.
When he'd disappeared around the side of the stable, she looked down at the rail and realized her hand was still clutching it. Shivering, she pulled her robe around her and headed for the house to get out of the sudden cold.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
Stella snuck into the kitchen early the next morning, hoping no one was up and about yet. She still didn't know if she could face her father or Casey. After pulling a mug off the cabinet shelf, she poured steaming, fragrant black coffee from the fresh pot.
Taking the first sip, she closed her eyes on a blissful sigh. Starbucks was nothing compared to Nuala.
She went to the bay window overlooking the Range. The light of dawn was so fragile this time of morning. The sky was just beginning to turn from that dreamy blue hue to delicate pink. She usually didn't wake up so early, but she hadn't been able to shake the nightmares on her second night home.
The sound of a truck engine reached her ears moments before a pickup came into view, pulling a small horse trailer. She pursed her lips, curious, when she didn't see the Range logo on either and waited while the driver backed into a spot near the stable entrance.
Her heart stuttered when Judd Black got out of the driver's door. A stunned breath filled her lungs, surprising her. She watched him open the trailer doors and guide that big, black stallion out. Something inside her warmed when he lifted a hand to the diamond between its eyes and caressed, standing close in that sweet, predawn light.
She tore her gaze away from them, feeling like a giggly teeny-bopper spying on her first crush. With a shake of her head, she remembered how she'd lain in bed for hours the night before trying to get his mysterious eyes and the feel of his hands on her face out of her mind. No more, she vowed. Judd had wanted nothing to do with her as a child or a teenager. Why would he be interested in her now?
Mug cupped in her hands to warm them, she tiptoed across the hall to the stairs.
"Stella."
She came to a halt, teeth clenching to fight back a curse. Giving in, she walked down the hall to her father's office. She leaned against the jamb and tried not to wince when he eyed her sternly. “You rang?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
"You've been avoiding me,” he said, not looking up from the paper in his hands.
She opened her mouth to argue but decided against it and pushed off the jamb to sink into one of his cushy chairs. Curling her legs into the seat, she clutched her mug tight. “Casey talk to you?"
"No, Casey never talks to anyone when he's got a problem. I weaseled it out of him. He doesn't get any work done whe
n he's pouting."
Despite the circumstances, she smiled. It faded slowly as her thoughts returned to yesterday's revelation. “I had a right to know,” she told him.
Leland pulled off his eyeglasses, set down the paper and leaned back in his big chair. The lids of his eyes lowered as he opened and closed the glasses. He spoke in a voice soft but wrought with grief. “Do you know how hard it was to decide whether or not to tell you everything?"
She pressed her lips together for a moment, emotions straining at the tether. “Daddy, I should've been here. Even if I was out of the country for the funeral, I should've come back as soon as I got back to LA. It was wrong of you to send Casey to tell me I didn't have to come. Now I'm never going to get to say goodbye."
He pressed a hand to his face and rubbed the line between his eyes hard. “I didn't want to go into this again. A day hasn't past that I don't think about it ... her ... how different things should've been. But the circumstances...” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was arson, Stella."
She stared at him. The blood drained out of her head, leaving her dizzy. She closed her eyes. “Jesus. Who would do such a thing?"
"It was a man from town,” Leland began, drawing each painful word out. “You may remember William Brusky."
"Wild Willie,” she murmured. The man's pudgy face and beer belly swam into her mind like a faraway dream. “You used to say his big mouth would get him in trouble one day."
Leland nodded. “He liked to talk smack, that's for sure. About four months before the fire, he was trying to buy some land about a mile east of here. Little place, about four acres, I think. Jim Black put in a bid against him. It waged on, going back and forth for months. Willie was about to sell one of his prize horses to seal the deal in his favor. Of course, he gabbed about it after about ten beers the night before. The next morning, the horse came down with colic. The buyer wouldn't even look at it. One of the hands at Willie's stable said he might've seen someone that night near the horse's trough. Willie jumped to conclusion. To add insult to injury, the bank handed Jim the deed. He signed it over as a gift to young Judd."
Blackest Heart [Wayback Texas] Page 3
