by Dawes, Casey
“Okay. Don’t tell my dad, at least not yet. He’ll be very upset and I don’t want to deal with one of his lectures.”
“I won’t, and you two won’t either.” He directed the last to the men who’d worked on the ranch for the past three years. Both men promised to keep quiet. Angus blushed again and met Melody’s gaze. “Sorry about my big mouth, ma’am. I just can’t rein it in sometimes.”
A tight smile stretched her lips. Her father’s friend gossiped worse than most of the women she knew. Everyone would know about Maximilian Fortaine’s return within the week.
She pivoted on her heels and left the canteen area. Every fiber in her body demanded answers. She headed toward the house, snuck past her mother and sisters-in-law who chatted in the living room and grabbed her purse from her bedroom. She didn’t bother to shower or change clothes, afraid she might lose her nerve if she procrastinated, and then she hurried to the multi-car attached garage, powered up her old silver truck and hit the road to Bozeman.
Chapter Two
Melody drove her truck down an old dirt road several miles outside of Bozeman. Sunlight streaked through leafy, overgrown trees and the pit in her stomach grew with every mile she drove. Max barely had a cent to his name the first time they’d met. He left without much more in his pockets. She’d always hoped he’d stopped drifting from one ranch to another and found permanent work and a home. Despite the way he left things between them, he deserved to make something good of himself and accomplish whatever he set his mind to.
She pulled the truck onto the grassy shoulder by the driveway that led to the ranch. A simple wooden arch had replaced the rusty metal frame that once crossed over the drive. A sign hung from the arch with the words Fortune’s Ranch painted in white letters. She spotted a one-story house and stable about half a mile down the driveway.
The former owner of the old Two-Step Ranch died a few years ago and the bank foreclosed on the property. She knew the ranch needed a lot of renovations—her father bought a horse from old man Dawson several years back and she tagged along to pick up the horse—but she couldn’t imagine how much money it would take to fix it up.
She eased the vehicle back onto the road and then crossed the ranch’s threshold. Someone had modernized a small, rundown house and built new sections onto the original foundation. The stable, however, appeared new and seemed larger than its predecessor. Another building stood off to the far side and probably acted as a boarding house for the men who worked there.
She parked her truck near a beat-up red Ford pickup and a few other vehicles in the front yard. Melody gripped the steering wheel hard and breathed deep. She’d come too far to back out now but she didn’t know what to expect. Would Max be happy or angry to see her? Would he even talk with her? What if he told her to get lost? She’d likely smack him across the face. He deserved it anyway.
Melody pried her hands from the wheel, cut the ignition and then shoved the keys in her pocket. She scowled at her pale reflection in the rearview mirror and then dug through her purse. She applied pink gloss to her lips, pulled out the band that held back her hair and then brushed her fingers through the thick strands. She rarely wore makeup or styled her hair, but the shimmery gloss and her bouncy locks of hair boasted her self-confidence.
She left the vehicle, walked across patchy, grayish-green grass and then climbed the steps of a recently-added porch. She fisted her hand and knocked on the front door.
Melody peeked through a window into the living room but she didn’t see anyone inside. She left the shade of the porch and walked around the house. Six men stood by a planked fence that encircled a large pasture, as another man rode horseback and struggled to calm the wild, bucking animal. Melody stood several feet back from the onlookers and watched as the rider in a frayed cowboy hat, dirtied white T-shirt, jeans and boots gripped the reins of the gray American Quarter Horse.
“Steady. Steady, girl.”
Her heart skipped a beat. The man’s deep, soothing voice strummed her nerve endings like a bass guitar. The mare stepped back, forward and then back again as she shook her head. Melody watched the rider carefully as he rubbed his index and middle finger over the mare’s neck and back in a circular motion. The T-Touch loosened tight muscles and helped spooked horses to relax. She had often used that surefire skill on Lightning and other horses.
Melody neared the fence and braced her hands on the top wooden rail. A few of the men noticed her but she didn’t acknowledge their sideway glances or flat-out stares, too enthralled by the man on the horse. The mare soon calmed down and trotted easily in the pasture. The man then slid from the saddle and handed the reins to a young ranch hand that waited nearby. He headed toward the men gathered near the fence but then abruptly stopped. His gaze met hers and she felt her chest tighten. He changed course for her direction but paused a few feet in front of her as though he expected that she might strike him. The thought had crossed her mind.
“Melody.”
Her name on his lips brought tears to her eyes. She blinked to push back the moisture and then gripped the rail hard. She coughed to force all emotion from her tone. “Hello, Max. Surprised?”
He bit his lip and then glanced at the ranch hands who watched them. His face flushed red. “Get back to work,” he snapped at them. They instantly headed off in different directions across the ranch. He rubbed at his eyes. “No, I expected you to come. Angus couldn’t keep a secret even if someone threatened him with death by cattle stampede.”
She normally would’ve voiced a similar quip about Angus’s mouth but she didn’t care to joke when she felt like vomiting. Instead, she simply nodded and then glanced down at the ground. The pasture appeared clean of debris but the grass grew in sporadic clumps, likely because the soil lacked proper proteins for healthy growth. The ranch needed a lot of work to function properly by spring. “The old Two-Step Ranch is a big project. Dawson neglected the land, buildings and even some of the horses before he passed.” She forced her gaze up and met his jade-green eyes. “Of course, I’m sure you realized that.”
“I did. About the land and buildings, I mean. The price was a steal. I’m not afraid of hard work so that’s not an issue.”
True. She had seen him work from sunup to sundown with few breaks, without complaint, in the blistering heat. Once he decided to do something, nothing stopped him. “I’m not sure why I’m here, Max. I thought of so many questions that I wanted to ask you as I drove here but now I’m at a loss for words.” She pushed away from the rail and locked her hands behind her back. “I guess I just had to see for myself that you’re alive and well.”
“I’m alive, but not well.”
She didn’t understand what he meant but she didn’t care to ask. The sun felt too hot and the wind had slowed. She needed to leave before she either cried or cursed him at the top of her lungs. She backed away.
“Melody, no.” He climbed over the fence and then hurried toward her. He grabbed her hand and stopped her retreat. “We should talk. Come inside the house and have a drink. I need to explain a few things to you.”
His large, calloused hand engulfed her smaller one and the rough pad of his thumb stroked her knuckles. His gentle grip trapped her at his side as though he had handcuffed them together.
Her gaze traveled up his body. His acid-wash jeans hung low but snug on his waist. His damp shirt defined his flat abs and his broad shoulders rivaled that of many football players she’d watched on TV with her dad. Sweat glistened on his skin. The lean twenty-one-year-old boy she once loved grew into a gorgeous man. He stood at least six-feet-tall and towered over her five-foot-eight frame. Her boots added a few inches to her height but she still felt petite next to him. She always had.
He pulled her toward the house and she couldn’t find the strength to stop him. Before she knew it, they’d crossed the backyard, ascended a short flight of wooden steps
and entered the house through a back door. He flipped on a light in the kitchen and then locked the door in place before she pulled free from his grasp.
Melody folded her arms across her chest and avoided his gaze. Empty food wrappers and take-out Chinese boxes cluttered the countertop, and the sink overflowed with dishes. The old-fashioned oak cabinetry appeared in decent shape and was probably original to the house. The black stove, fridge and countertop appliances appeared new. He seemed to have followed her gaze because he grabbed a nearby trashcan, knocked all the trash on the counter into the can and then ran water in the sink to wash his hands.
She blamed herself for this awkward situation. She never should’ve come. Now that she stood just feet away from the blond cowboy, however, she felt obligated to make conversation. “You have quite a place. I’m impressed with the renovations.”
“Seriously?” Max grabbed a towel that hung from the stove door handle and dried his hands with it.
“Yeah. Dawson lived old school without many modern conveniences—like a bathroom.”
Max chuckled. “Nasty, right? I bulldozed the outhouse and the rinky-dink shower next to it right after I bought the property.” He tossed the towel on the stove. “The contractor I hired renovated the kitchen, living room and expanded the master bedroom. His team also added two more bedrooms, a study, a bathroom and a sewer system. The house isn’t finished yet but all I gotta deal with now is cosmetics. The major work is done.”
“As I said, impressive.”
“Thank you. I’m relieved by that.”
“Why?”
Max shrugged. He then grabbed two sodas from the fridge, popped the bottle lids on the countertop edge and handed her a cola. She gripped the glass hard as he led her through an open doorway to the living room. A nice but mismatched sofa, wingback chair and an end-table faced a cold, stone fireplace. Natural light streamed through two large windows that overlooked the front yard and the driveway. The plastic blinds clanked softly over the glass panes as cool air blew from a floor vent and a ceiling fan that spun on low. She sat on the sofa and sipped the drink as he sat across from her in the chair.
“I’m not much of a decorator,” Max said as he glanced at the sparse furnishings, “but it will do for now. I’m more interested in prepping the ranch.”
“Did the same contractor also build the stable and the second house out back? That’s for the men you’ve hired, right?”
“Yes on both counts. I did a lot of the construction myself but the project is too big for one person. You can’t imagine the nightmare the past few months have been.” He took a long gulp from his drink and then set the bottle down by his chair on the hardwood floor. Max braced his arms on his knees and leaned forward. “It’s good to see you. Do you still live on your dad’s ranch?”
“Yep, but I branched out from just caring for the horses. I train and breed them now. Well,” she hedged as she flexed her fingers around the bottle. “I help train my father’s colts and fillies but I’m the sole owner of one Rocky. I weaned Lightning from his mother and I trained him by myself. Dad signed Lightning’s paperwork over to me on my nineteenth birthday but I pay him for the use of the stable, pastures, medicinal supplies, feed and everything else that the stallion needs,” she explained. “I originally relied on Dad’s connections to find suitable mates for the Rocky but I’ve since created my own network. Lightning has sired several champion horses over the years so I’m not in short supply of ranchers who want their broodmares to mate with him.”
He laughed. “Now I’m the one who’s impressed.”
“I take a lot of pride in Lightning. He’s a great horse.”
He lowered his gaze and then rubbed his bristled jaw. “May I ask you something personal?”
She straightened in her seat. “That’s why I’m here, I guess, to clear the air between us.”
Max removed his leather hat and fiddled with the worn brim. “Why didn’t you marry? There’s not a ring on your finger and you still live with your parents. What happened? A dozen guys wanted you back when we were together. You could’ve moved away and started a new life.”
She licked her lips. “First of all, you say that I ‘still live with my parents’ like it’s a bad thing. I live where my job is located. It’s not my fault that my father owns the ranch.” She bit her tongue to keep her anger in check. “I just said that I have to pay Dad for Lightning’s keep. I work with the others horses for free to earn my keep. You know Wayne Bennett. He doesn’t give anything away without a price tag on it, not even to his daughter.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. There’s always a catch.” He tossed his hat aside as he stood up and walked behind the chair. “So you didn’t marry. Fine. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“That’s none of your business.” She placed her bottle on the end-table and stood as well. “Just to remind you, Max, I did want to move away and start a new life. You left without me, ran like a damn coward. Plain and simple. So I stayed where I felt comfortable. That’s not a crime.”
“You stayed in a place that you despised. You never felt comfortable. The men who worked for your snake of a father ogled you all the time unless you wore loose shirts to hide your breasts.” Max gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles whitened. “You stayed, and that shows just as much cowardice as when I left.”
His words tore a hole right through her. Melody tightened her jacket over her chest to hide the unflattering shirt. She hated that he was right, but she couldn’t let him know that. “How dare you?” She stomped past the furniture and stood so close to him that she felt his breath on her face. “All right, let’s have it out. All of it. Tell me why you left. We’re both adults and there’s no reason to lie. I want the truth.”
“There’re always reasons to lie, darlin’. Always.”
Her palm itched to land across his cheek. “Did you ever love me? At least tell me the truth on that.”
Surprise overshadowed the anger that burned in his eyes. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry I made you doubt that.”
Her tight control slipped and a tear slid down her face. Melody dug her nails into her palms to regain control. “You owe me the truth.”
“Yeah, I do.” Max forced his fingers through his spiky, dark blond hair. “You’ll hate me more than you already do.”
“I don’t hate you. I did a long time ago but I forgave you.” She stepped back to give both of them breathing room. As it was, all she could breathe in was his scent. She felt suffocated and strangely at peace by it. “I’m happy, Max. My life is good. I missed you for a while but I moved on. To answer your earlier question, no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve dated men after you, of course, but I’m single now. That’s my choice.” She refused to tell him about her list of must-haves, her criterion for potential love interests. Melody didn’t want him to know how much his betrayal had affected her view on men and love. “Besides, I’m sure you moved on to other women. I doubt a handsome man like you would have trouble finding a new bedmate.”
He glanced away and shifted his feet which confirmed her suspicion. She wrapped her arms around her queasy stomach and walked toward a window. She peered through the slats of the blinds but she didn’t see much of anything. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel not good enough? Tell me why you left Willow Creek without me. I don’t care what the answer is. I just want to know. I won’t hate you for it.”
Melody faced him as the silence between them grew thick and heavy. He stared in the direction of the fireplace but his eyes appeared glassy. He stood tall with his shoulders straight and back erect like a fence post. His mouth thinned in a tight line and she believed that he didn’t plan to answer.
She couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t beg him for the answer that once kept her awake at night. No, she’d rather drive back home with her dignity still intact.
Melody headed to th
e front door without another word.
Chapter Three
Air whooshed out of her lungs. Max grabbed her arm, pushed her against the door and kissed her. His lips felt firm and inviting. His body pressed against hers. His scent invaded her nostrils and she breathed in the air that he released from his lungs.
She wanted to push him away, she planned to, but he released her before she had the chance.
Max retreated several feet back and clutched his hands at his sides. “I’m sorry for that. I don’t want you to go, not yet. I just—” He tunneled his hands through his short hair. “There’s so much to say but I don’t know where to begin.”
She pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “You could start by answering my question.”
“All right, but I do know what it’s like to not feel good enough. You should have remembered that.”
She did. They came from different backgrounds and that stigma—societal scorn—had prompted her to run away with him.
Max folded his arms across his chest. “I remember the first time I saw you. I heard a squeal in the distance as I shoveled manure onto the back of a pickup. This white horse sped through a pasture at breakneck speed and I believed the mare was about to crash into the fence. The rider, however, yelled a command, pulled the reins and slowed the horse just in the nick of time.” He grinned as though the memory played out in his mind. “There you were, so beautiful with your hair tousled and your face flushed pink from the wind. You wore a pair of denim Capri pants, a plaid shirt and boots with little tassels on them. I knew right then that you were out of my league but I wanted you, and I would do anything to have you.” He braced his hands on his hips as his grin faded. “Things just didn’t work out. I should’ve told you goodbye but I didn’t think I could leave without you if I did. So I just hit the road. I always regretted that but I did do right by you. I did right by leaving.”
