She paused and waited for him to make some sort of reply. When he remained silent, it was obvious he was expecting her to explain further.
“I had hoped that having a child would help,” she went on in a strained voice, “but my getting pregnant actually made things worse. By the time Nick was born, Cliff hardly noticed he had a child. It’s no wonder Nick says he can’t remember his father. Cliff never spent enough time with his son to make any memories. He was too busy making money.”
Blake steered the truck onto Highway 93, and as they headed north, Katherine couldn’t help but wonder what he must be thinking about her and her marriage. No doubt he was probably telling himself this was the first and last date he’d have with Katherine O’Dell.
She was about to apologize for sounding so sharp, when he suddenly spoke.
“If my math is correct, Nick must have only been about three when his father died. That’s too young for a child to remember much of anything.”
Sighing, she looked at him. “Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know anymore. I expect when Nick gets a little older, he’s going to start asking more questions about his father. I dread that time, because I can’t lie to him. It wouldn’t be right.”
“No. Lying wouldn’t be good. But maybe by the time Nick does start asking those questions, he’ll already have another father,” Blake suggested. “And the truth won’t hurt so much.”
Katherine stared at her clasped hands. “I honestly doubt that’s going to happen. I can’t see myself marrying again.”
Another stretch of silence passed and then he said, “Nick wants brothers and sisters.”
Her gaze slid over his chiseled features. “I can’t believe he was telling you that sort of thing. He doesn’t talk about private matters to anyone but me—and sometimes his buddy Shawn.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I guess Nick decided I was someone he could confide in. So what are you going to do about it?”
She frowned at him. “Do about what?”
“About giving him some siblings.”
His nerve astounded her. She’d been acquainted with the Hollister family for as long as she could remember. And yes, throughout her teenage years, she’d had a crush on Blake. But she didn’t know him in a personal way. Not even well enough to call herself a close friend. So what made him think he could talk to her about such things?
“Do you really think that’s any of your business?”
His grin was a bit suggestive and even more endearing.
He said, “Probably not. But I hope to make it my business before the evening is over.”
If Katherine had any sense at all, she’d tell him to turn the truck around and take her home. She didn’t need some man digging into the deepest part of her. She didn’t want him prying at the locked-away spot where she harbored her hopes and dreams. And she especially didn’t need a man like Blake, who’d been born into a loving family and a home where he’d never lacked for anything, telling her what she or her son needed in their lives. And yet, she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want this evening with Blake to end. Even though he was making her think about uncomfortable things, he was also making her feel more alive than she’d felt in years.
“I suppose you have a right to hope,” she murmured.
He didn’t make any sort of reply and his silence made the cab of the truck feel even more crowded with his presence. In spite of the air-conditioner vents blowing in her direction, she could practically feel the heat emanating from his body and hear the soft in and out of his breathing.
Swallowing hard, she purposely stared out the passenger window and tried to concentrate on the open landscape. With each passing mile, the terrain appeared to be growing a bit greener. Here and there, huge rock formations towered into the sky, while on the lower slopes of the gentle hills, sage bloomed purple.
After a few moments, the rugged beauty of the land began to soothe her jumpy nerves and before long she was gasping with delight. “Look, Blake, at the water hole! There’s a big herd of antelope. Aww—and all those babies! They’re beautiful!”
He glanced at the wildlife. “Looks like this area has been blessed with a bit of rain. Grass has greened the slopes and given the antelope and deer plenty to eat.”
She stared at the herd of animals until they were completely out of view, then looked over at him. “I have to admit that living in San Diego was nice. But I missed Arizona,” she said wistfully. “The desert and the saguaros. The rock bluffs and pine-covered mountains. And all the deer and antelope.”
“You forgot to add the blistering heat and months without rain. Along with the rattlesnakes, horned lizards and javelina,” he added jokingly.
She smiled. “Strange, isn’t it? That a person can get attached to such a rugged place.”
“Hmm. It’s all I’ve ever known. So it doesn’t seem strange to me. I’d feel stifled if I had to live in a city.” He cast a curious glance in her direction. “Is that one of the reasons you decided to stay in Wickenburg after your father died? Because you missed this area?”
She took a moment to think about his question. “I’ll be honest, Blake, twelve years ago when I left with Mom and my brother, I never expected to see the place again. I thought I’d never want to return to Arizona. You see, when we left Wickenburg, I had high hopes that my life would change. I desperately wanted to better myself. But my life made turns I never expected. And along the way I think I forgot that better doesn’t always equal happiness.”
“No. Not always,” he quietly agreed.
Emotions filled her throat and she tried to clear away the lump before she spoke. “This is probably going to sound terrible to you, but I dreaded coming back to Wickenburg. I dreaded seeing the place and seeing Dad. There were plenty of things I didn’t want to be reminded of. But when I walked into our old house and my father reached for my hand... I can’t explain it, but for the first time in years I felt truly at home.”
“Maybe that’s because you felt needed.”
Needed? She stared out at the desert hills, yet instead of seeing the rocky slopes covered with creosote brush and cholla cactus, she was seeing her father as she’d seen him as a child. Staggering home from an evening spent at the local bar. He’d always been knocking things over and spilling food in the kitchen, then yelling at her mother to clean up the mess. And Paulette had always dutifully obeyed his orders. She’d never complained or asked her husband to change his foul ways. She’d simply bided her time until her children had finished high school and then she’d slapped him with a divorce. Oddly enough, the dismantlement of his family had devastated Avery Anderson.
Shoving at the sad memories, she finally said, “My father did need me in a physical sense. To do the things he couldn’t do for himself. But I never once thought of him needing me in an emotional way. Maybe because...when I was growing up, he hid himself behind a bottle. Thankfully, these last few years he remained completely sober. But I think it was hard for him to let me or anyone see the real Avery.”
When he didn’t make an immediate reply, Katherine wondered if she’d shocked him by bringing up the subject of her father’s drinking. Although she couldn’t imagine why it would have surprised him. Everyone in town had known about Avery Anderson’s problem with alcohol.
Another mile passed before Blake asked, “What did Nick think of his grandfather?”
“They got along great. The only thing Nick didn’t like was that his grandfather wasn’t well enough to do outside things with him. Like fishing or camping. But they played checkers and other games together. Now that Dad is gone, I’m glad that my son had two years with his grandfather.”
“What about Nick’s other grandparents? Does he visit them often?”
Katherine shook her head. “Cliff never knew his parents. He went into the foster-home program when he was about two years old.”
“I se
e.”
Did he really? Katherine doubted it. Blake Hollister’s life had always been stable. Surrounded by a big family with a home that had been anchored in the same spot for more than a hundred years, he’d never had to doubt whether he was loved or had a roof over his head from one week to the next.
Biting back a sigh, she said, “I shouldn’t have spoken so bitterly about Cliff a few minutes ago. Down deep, I think he never got over being passed from one family to the next. Of never having much of his own. He worked like a demon for financial security.”
“He probably believed that would fill his emotional void, too,” Blake said thoughtfully.
Surprised that he’d put his finger on Cliff’s problem, she darted a look at him. “You’re right, Blake. But that’s over and in the past. Now I just want to raise my son to be a happy, well-rounded person.”
To her surprise, he reached over and folded his hand around hers. “You needn’t worry, Katherine. You’ve already got him off to a great start.” He squeezed her fingers ever so slightly. “And I apologize. I had no right to press you to talk about your private life. It’s just that I like you, Katherine, and I want to know all about you.”
How could she be cross with him when just the touch of his hand was filling her with a swirl of emotions that warmed her and lifted her spirits?
“There’s no need for you to apologize, Blake.”
He smiled at her. “Well, just the same. What do you say we start all over? Let’s talk about the weather.”
His suggestion pulled a laugh from her. “I think I can safely say it’s hot and dry.”
He made a show of studying the cloudless sky stretched in front of them. “Looks hot and dry to me, too. So we have that topic covered. What else would you like to talk about?”
“I’d love to hear about Three Rivers and all that goes on there. But if you’d rather not talk about your job, I’ll pick a different subject.”
Blake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Since his broken engagement, the few women he’d dated hadn’t been the least bit interested in his family’s ranch, other than the profit it made. All of them had preferred talking about Phoenix and the excitement the city had to offer, like shopping, music concerts and big sporting events. And once those subjects had been thoroughly hashed to death, he’d listened to recounts of European vacations or days lounging on a tropical island.
Frowning doubtfully, he glanced at her. “Are you sure you want to hear about cowboy stuff? Most of it isn’t pretty. You might be bored.”
Smiling softly, she squeezed his fingers. “I would love to hear about you and Three Rivers.”
Chapter Four
Less than a half hour later, Blake and Katherine stopped at a little roadside café in Congress. As they sat in a worn, wooden booth, eating jalapeño-spiced burgers on sourdough buns, Katherine continued to listen intently as he described a typical workday schedule at the ranch.
“I don’t know how you keep up with everything.” She reached for her iced tea. “Your mother must really depend on you.”
“Mom depends on all of us,” he told her. “Not just me.”
As Blake watched her sip from the straw in her glass, he decided her lips looked even sexier now that the food had erased her lipstick.
“I’m sure she does—depend on all of you. But you’ve stepped into your father’s position. Being manager of a ranch the size of Three Rivers would carry a heavy weight.”
So she understood that much, he thought with a sense of relief. “To be honest, Katherine, after Dad died, I didn’t want the job.”
Frowning with confusion, she lowered a forked french fry back to her plate. “Didn’t want it? But a few minutes ago you told me you went to college to get a degree in ranch management. Obviously you were training for the job—I mean eventually.”
“That’s right. I did get my degree. But I thought... Well, none of us were expecting Dad to be taken from us so soon. I thought I had years and years before I’d have to take over the management job. When Dad died, I was too young and inexperienced to step into his boots.” Shaking his head, he let out a self-deprecating groan. “Hell. That was a stupid thing for me to say. If I lived to be a hundred years old, I could never fill my dad’s boots.”
The faint smile on her lips was full of empathy. “You’re wrong to sell yourself short, Blake. You’ve kept the ranch solvent and growing. I’m sure your father would be very proud.”
“Proud. I can only hope,” he said ruefully while wondering what Katherine would think if he told her that he and his brothers suspected their father had been murdered. She’d probably think the whole family was crazy or paranoid. And maybe she’d be right, he thought. After five long years, there was still no concrete evidence to prove their theory right.
She suddenly reached across the tabletop and touched the tip of her fingers to his. “You know,” she said softly, “I wasn’t prepared to be a widow or a single mother, either. And sometimes I really doubt the job I’m doing with Nick. But in the end, all you and I can do is try our best. And hope we’ve made a positive mark on our families.”
Something about the touch of her warm fingers, and the soft encouragement of her words, touched him in a deep and powerful way. And before he realized what he was doing, he captured her hand in his and drew it toward him.
“Thank you, Katherine. I needed to remember I’m not the only one who’s lost a loved one.”
She looked away from him, and for one brief second, Blake thought he saw a look of guilt in her eyes. What was that about? he wondered. Her father or her late husband?
Drawing her hand from his, she reached for her handbag. “Um, if you’re finished eating, we should probably be going...before we run out of daylight.”
Recognizing the moment between them was over, he said, “I’ll take care of the check and we’ll be on our way.”
They left the quiet little café and headed north toward Yarnell. Behind them, the sun had slipped below the desert floor, sending long shadows over the hills.
“Looks like we should’ve started earlier,” Blake commented. “By the time we reach the mountains near Prescott, it’s going to be dark.”
“No matter,” she assured him. “I’ll see them another time.”
Another time. Yes, he definitely wanted more time with Katherine. But would she be willing to give it to him? From the moment they’d dropped off Nick at the Ralstons’, Blake had felt Katherine put up an emotional guard of sorts. Whether that was because she didn’t trust him or herself, he could only wonder.
“Well, we still have a bit of daylight left. Maybe we can make Yarnell Hill Lookout before it gets dark. I’m sure you’ve seen it before, but it’s always worth the look,” he said as he helped her into the cab of the truck.
As she settled herself in the seat, she said, “You’re probably not going to believe this, but I’ve only heard about the lookout. I’ve never actually been there.”
About to shut the door, he paused and looked at her with surprise. “You’ve really never visited the lookout?”
She shook her head. “My parents never took us sightseeing. And the few dates I had as a teenager, I wasn’t allowed to leave Wickenburg. Since I’ve returned, I’ve not had any real reason to drive up this way.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat,” he promised.
For the next ten miles, Blake pushed the speed limit until they reached the summit of Yarnell Hill and the lookout located on the downhill side.
To his delight, the round parking area surrounded by a low rock railing was presently empty. He pulled the truck to a stop a few feet away from the barrier and killed the motor, while across from him, Katherine leaned forward in her seat to get a better view of the panoramic scene of the canyon below.
“Oh, Blake! This is gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “Especially like this—with twilight falling.”
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The look of wonder on her face caused his chest to swell with unexpected emotions. Just knowing he’d pleased her in such a small way made him feel like he could jump a mountain.
“Would you like to get out and walk around?” he suggested.
She flashed him a wide smile. “Oh, yes, let’s do.”
By the time he’d exited the truck and opened the door to help her down, she’d already flung off her seat belt and was eagerly reaching for his hand.
“Careful. Don’t get your high heel hung in the running board,” he urged as he assisted her to the ground. “Sorry. No one in my family drives a car or I would’ve brought it tonight. The rough road in and out of the ranch puts too much wear and tear on a vehicle.”
Laughing lightly, she said, “Blake, you make it sound like I’m a princess who needs a gilded coach. Your truck is very nice. It’s far more luxurious than my little economy car.”
“Some women think they’re just work vehicles.”
Her expression suddenly serious, she looked up at him. “I’m not some women.”
A hot southwest wind was playing with her dark hair. When a strand settled on her lips, his fingers itched to reach up and tuck it back in place. But he didn’t want to make any sort of move that would cause her to shy away. Having her this close had to be enough. At least, for tonight, he thought.
“No. I’m beginning to see you’re definitely not that kind,” he murmured. He released a long breath, settled a hand against her back and urged her forward. “Let’s go over to the wall.”
As they walked slowly, side by side, he could hardly concentrate on the view of the landscape. Instead, the warmth of her back was radiating through his hand and up his arm, while the sweet, flowery scent of her competed with the faint odor of sage carried by the wind.
Her Man on Three Rivers Ranch Page 5