Daddy's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  “Dude, are you okay?” Brent asked, sounding worried.

  “Hey, give him a bit of space,” Mickey said.

  But I shook my head and sat up. “Nah, I’m fine,” I heard myself say as I glanced around, dizzy. That hadn’t gone nearly as well as I’d hoped it would.

  “You were amazing!” Pink Shirt cried out, her voice far too loud for the pounding in my head.

  I grimaced, the thrill of everything gone now that I was thinking about my father. If anyone was a good-for-nothing son of a bitch, it was surely him, but the town had never seen that side of him.

  I pushed myself to my feet. Pink Shirt tried to help me, but I shook her hands off. “I’m good, but thanks.” The room was spinning a little too much. All I needed was to barf on the pretty girl and really fuck up my chances of anything happening. Not that there was a chance after busting my face in front of her.

  “Dude, are you okay?” Brent asked again, sounding even more concerned.

  “I’m fine,” I said gruffly. Despite the pain in my ribs and across my back, I wasn’t really lying. I could still breathe, and it didn’t feel like anything was broken.

  I ducked between the ropes at the edge of the bull’s arena and couldn’t hide a wince as it pulled at the bruised bits. Pink Shirt was back on my arm. “Why don’t I take care of you someplace private?” she asked, her voice sultry. “I could play nurse, and-”

  “I’m fine,” I interrupted, a hint of a growl in my voice this time. “Look, I think I’m going to head home for the night. Get some rest. It’s been a fun night, but I’m not really in the mood for any of this.” I shook her off, realizing as I did so that I had never even bothered to ask her name. Not that it really mattered. It just left a bad taste in my mouth. I stalked out the door, ignoring the questions I left in my wake.

  Chapter Two

  Vanessa

  It didn’t take long to find Julie when I walked into the diner. We hadn’t seen one another in over a year, but she looked the same as ever, there at the counter, kicking her feet a little as she sat on a stool chatting with Pat, the owner of the place.

  She squealed when she saw me and hopped off her stool, pulling me into a big hug. “God, you look great!” she said. “Plus, it’s just so good to see you! I can’t believe you’re back here. I always thought you were going to… I don’t know, go off with some rich dude from New York City or Paris or somewhere and…” She trailed off, giggling a little. “Well, I’m just glad to see you. Come on, sit down. Pat, you know what we like.”

  Then, she turned toward me, her eyebrows drawing in close. “I mean, I used to know what you liked. Do you still-”

  “The usual is fine,” I interrupted, smiling at her. Same old Julie. She was ever consistent, thank God. Someone had to be.

  “Congrats again on the college graduation,” Julie said. “I wish I could have been there, but with Danny teething and Liam being Liam, you know? I don’t want to say he’s inept, but there’s no way I’m leaving him at home with Danny on his own!”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “I still can’t believe Danny’s getting old enough to be teething already,” I said.

  “You’re going to love him,” she said. “He’s the sweetest thing. I know you never really wanted kids, but-”

  “A lot has changed,” I said before I could stop myself. Julie looked surprised at first, and then her eyes narrowed a little in a way that made me wince.

  “Did you come back just because of Trethan?” she asked.

  I forced myself to laugh. “Of course not. We were just friends, remember? I haven’t seen him in ages, and I don’t know what he’s even up to.”

  “Bullshit,” she said succinctly. “He’s working over at your dad’s ranch. Don’t pretend you don’t know what he’s up to.”

  I blushed and ducked my head. “I mean, other than that,” I clarified. “Of course, Dad mentioned that Trethan was working out there, ever since his incident.”

  “His incident,” Julie said flatly. She rolled her eyes. “God, I hope you didn’t come back just because of him. You can do so much better.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, even though, to be honest, Trethan had been on my mind a lot since I decided to come back home. “I’m not here because of him. Dad’s been really supportive of me.”

  “Supportive of what, though?” she asked. “I mean, you have a degree in art history. There’s not that much art in this town, let alone history. We’re just White Bluff, Montana, remember?”

  “I know,” I said again. I sighed. “Look, I don’t know exactly what I want to do, but when it came down to signing a contract with one of the big corporate places in the city, it just didn’t appeal to me. There are a lot of interesting art institutes out there and a lot of interesting galleries, places that are trying to use art to make an impact on places and people. I’m not really into the political side of things, but I can’t help holding out for something where art would be more than self-expression, where it could really change things. Does that make sense?”

  Even as I said it, I knew it probably didn’t make sense to Julie. She had never been interested in art, and now she had her family. She was probably more focused on them than broadening her horizons with art.

  I didn’t think less of her for it. Most people didn’t have the time for anything but what was directly in front of them. Work, family, and just getting through the day took precedence over everything else. I assumed it was the same with Julie.

  Still, the thought made me sad. We’d always been so close during school. But ever since I’d gone off to college, and she’d stayed in White Bluff, we’d grown further and further apart. We’d kept in touch, of course, but things were different now.

  But Julie was nodding along with me. “That makes sense,” she said. She smiled crookedly at me. “I know you probably think I’m just saying that, but honestly, having a kid changes you. You start thinking about legacies and what kind of world that kid is going to grow up in. Things like that.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I never thought I’d hear anything like that from you.”

  “Me neither,” she admitted, also laughing. Then, her expression sobered. “But seriously, what do you think you’re going to do around here? I mean, I know you always hated the ranching lifestyle, and as much as you want to tell me that everything’s changed and that you’re maybe thinking about having kids and whatever else, I know you. And I know that you’re not back here to take over your dad’s ranch.”

  “Definitely not,” I sighed, staring down into the mug of coffee Pat had put in front of me. I couldn’t help grinning a little. “Sounds like the ranch is probably going to pass over to Trethan, eventually. If not in land ownership, then at least in terms of functioning and work.”

  “That’s going to be really awkward if you end up owning the land and he ends up running everything,” Julie said.

  “Again, it’s not like anything ever happened between the two of us,” I reminded her. “We were never high school sweethearts or anything.”

  “You might as well have been,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “We weren’t,” I maintained, glancing toward Pat. Julie knew the full story there, but that didn’t mean I needed the whole town to know. I was long over whatever Trethan and I had been, but still.

  “Okay, okay,” Julie said, holding up both her hands. “I won’t mention it again. Promise. Just, you’re going to see him around town. You realize that? You’re going to see him around the ranch. You do realize what you’ve gotten yourself into, don’t you?”

  I shook my head. “Julie, it’ll be fine,” I said.

  Inside, I was nervous, though. I’d thought about writing to Trethan before I’d come back to town. He must have known, thanks to Dad, that I’d be coming home. I doubted Dad would keep that information from the guy, knowing Trethan and I had been so close.

  But at the same time, Dad didn’t know exactly how close Trethan and I had been to one another, and I’d felt
like maybe I owed it to Trethan to say something, to address the awkwardness that was already looming between us.

  “If you need me to talk to him, or you need anything else, you know where to find me,” Julie said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said. I stared down into my coffee for a moment, then sighed. “But seriously, on the work front. My dad’s been really supportive, but I still need to find something. Do you know anyone around town who’s hiring? I’m not looking for a permanent position or anything like that, just some way to get a little extra cash while I figure out what I’m doing.”

  Julie frowned and shook her head. “I’ve been keeping my ears open for you,” she told me. “I mean, I asked Mr. Verbier, but he doesn’t have any openings at the moment. Or rather, he does because he definitely could use another secretary so that I could take a day off more than once every couple weeks, but he doesn’t want to hire anyone else. It would have been fun for the two of us to be working together again, though.”

  I laughed. “Aren’t we a little old for that now?”

  “Maybe,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “But still, it would have been fun.” She sighed. “But anyway, I haven’t really heard from anyone else who’s hiring.”

  “Maybe Dad will give me a little part-time work,” I said. That was the way my job hunt had been going so far. Nothing but dead ends. I wasn’t upset. It was more frustrating than anything.

  Julie paused, and I knew what she was going to say before she said it. “Are you sure you could really work alongside Trethan?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course, I could,” I said. “There’s nothing between us, Julie. We crossed that bridge a long time ago.” But had we really?

  I couldn’t help thinking how things might have been different if it hadn’t been for that one night, five years ago. Maybe we’d be working together right now. Maybe we’d be growing into owning the ranch and into a position where we were something more to one another. But I was never going to know that.

  I had to stop thinking about the past and what could have been. As long as I was back home, I had to concentrate on the future — and I had to forget about Trethan.

  “So, when are you coming to brunch with me?” Julie asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  I made a face. “Is that really what we do now? Brunch?”

  She blinked in surprise. “Sorry. I guess that sounds lame. But most of us have kids, so getting together late is impossible. The only time to meet up is in the mornings. So, we have brunch. I enjoy it, anyway. It’s nice to get out of the house every once in a while and have some fun.”

  I felt bad for making her feel uncomfortable. I felt bad that I had slammed something she apparently cared about now.

  Settling back here in White Bluff would take some adjustment, even with Julie. I wasn’t entirely sure where to start, but I felt confident we could get back to the way things had been before I left.

  I hoped so anyway because I could definitely use a friend, as long as I was going to be hanging around these parts.

  “Saturday?” I suggested.

  Julie looked pleased, the wrinkles and worries smoothing out of her face. “Saturday would be great,” she said, grinning. “I can get a sitter for Danny and get away for a couple hours. Yes, Saturday morning would be perfect.”

  I smiled back at her and took a sip of my coffee, hardly tasting it. I had known that coming home wouldn’t be easy, but I hadn’t expected how difficult it was going to be. Falling back into old friendships and old routines was going to take some time. And the awkwardness was going to be so incredibly uncomfortable, but I’d survived other things before. I would survive this.

  It wasn’t as though I had a choice in the matter.

  I took a deep breath and forced a grin on my face. “So how have you been, anyway?” I asked. “Is Danny walking yet? Is he talking?”

  Julie grinned and started babbling about her son, looking happy that I’d asked about him.

  Chapter Three

  Trethan

  Getting out of bed the next morning was difficult, but it was nothing compared to how I was going to feel working on the ranch over the course of the day. It wasn’t just the headache, either. With the bruises down my sides and the bruises crossing my back, I doubted I could sling a saddle up a horse in my condition, let alone muck out stalls or do other manual labor.

  And yet, that was exactly what I’d been hired for.

  I forced myself to go to work and started cleaning up the work area before John could ask me to do it. I tried to keep ahead of his requests, to keep on top of what I thought he wanted me to do. The last thing I wanted was to make him think that I was just going through the motions, that I was dependent on him telling me what to do.

  He was the owner of the ranch, and he was my employer. I didn’t want him to think he’d taken a gamble by hiring me. I wanted to prove to him that I was responsible.

  I’d been a real mess a couple years ago, and I was still trying to come back from that. I was a lot better, but at the same time, I couldn’t shake off who I’d been. Who John had known me to be. That was the reason he’d given me the job to begin with: out of pity.

  John walked into the stables and grinned at me. “Hey, glad to see you in here, but it’s such a nice day outside that I have another plan in mind.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “We need to repair a bit of fencing up at the edge of the north pasture,” he said. “I know most of the horses aren’t going up that far this coming winter since the grass is mostly down here, and the herd is going to mostly stay down here, too, but I have a couple people coming in who are thinking of boarding with us this summer, higher-end customers, and you know that fence on the north pasture borders the road. It’s the first thing they’ll see when they drive in. The last thing we need is for them to think we’re sloppy or — even worse — that we’re not prepared to take care of the things we need to take care of.”

  I grimaced at the very thought of working on the fence, but it wasn’t like I could say no. We headed out to the fence and got to work.

  I had taken some painkillers that morning before coming to work, and they helped keep me going until it was nearly lunch time. Now, I could feel them wearing off, and when I went to lift some wood up toward John, I winced at the tug in my ribs.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, eyes narrowing sharply. He hopped down off the top of the fence and faced me, his hands on his hips as he waited for me to explain.

  “It’s nothing serious,” I told him. I couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of my voice. As much as I appreciated his concern, and as much as I knew his concern was tied to his worry that I might be slipping back into my old ways, it was embarrassing to have him worried about me like this.

  “Let me see,” he said. I knew there was no arguing with that tone.

  I sighed inwardly and slowly removed my shirt, trying not to let him see how much that simple action pained me. He whistled when he saw the bruising, which admittedly looked pretty ugly.

  “You should have seen the other guy,” I joked, then instantly regretted the words.

  “You’re fighting again?” John asked, sounding incredulous. He took a step closer, reaching out to touch the edge of the bruise and watching as I flinched away from the probe.

  “I’m not fighting,” I said, shaking my head. “Sorry, that was a joke. Not a good one.”

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “Fell down the stairs?” I tried. When John looked nonplussed, I sighed. “I got thrown off the mechanical bull at the Roasted Bison.” I wondered how John would take that. It wasn’t like I’d been drunk and picking fights again, but he would probably still classify my behavior as drunken and stupid.

  Sure enough, John looked angry at that. But when he spoke, I realized he wasn’t angry at me. Or at least, not entirely. “I’ve been telling them for years that they need to be more careful with that thing,” he said, sounding disgusted. “One of these days, someone’s r
eally going to get hurt.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “And, I thought we’d talked about you being a little more careful when you’re drinking.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, holding up my hands. “It was Brent’s idea. I shouldn’t have let myself get talked into it. But anyway, I’m fine. A little sore today, but nothing’s broken or anything like that.”

  “You were lucky,” John said, putting a heavy emphasis on that last word. “Next time-”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted. “There won’t be a next time.”

  “I’m not going to hold you to that,” he said, shaking his head. “What you want to do in your spare time is up to you. Just be careful, okay? And I want you to take the rest of the day off and rest up, or you could injure yourself even more. You’re sure nothing’s broken? These bruises around your ribs look pretty bad.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing’s broken. Trust me. I know what broken ribs feel like.”

  “I’m sure you do.” He shook his head again. “Look, I know you’ve made a lot of changes, and I’m proud of you. But I sometimes wonder if maybe you’re still drinking a little too much.” He held up a hand to forestall my protest. “I know it’s none of my business as long as you’re getting your work done and showing up reasonably sober every morning. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that,” I said, lowering my gaze to stare at the ground. Ever since I’d started working for him, John had been more like a father to me than my own dad had ever been. I hated to hear how disappointed he sounded. “I’m not fighting,” I said in a quieter voice. “And, I’m honestly not even drinking all that much. It was just some stupid bet with Brent.”

  John hesitated, and I could tell he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. Finally, he slowly asked, “You’re not into other things with Brent, are you?”