The Trouble With Cowboys

by Denise Hunter

  Their eyes locked, and she felt the smile slide from her face. Her heart kicked up into her throat. His eyes still bore the traces of vulnerability but now held something else she couldn’t define.

  “I heard about Oakley.”

  She’d wondered when he was going to bring that up. “Figured as much.”

  “Sorry it didn’t work out.” He sounded sincere, and one look into his eyes was one look too many.

  Annie dug for her keys, her face growing warm. “I should probably be leaving.”

  “I could still start that coffee . . .”

  The fact that she was tempted told her all she needed to know. She turned toward her truck. “I should get back.”

  He followed her to the driver’s side. “I’m sorry again, about the column.”

  She waved him off, ready to be gone, away from his confusing presence. “It’s fine.”

  “What about Braveheart? I’ll pay you whatever you want if you’ll keep working with him.”

  “No, no. I’ll see the job through. Shouldn’t take much longer; he’s doing really well.” She climbed into the driver’s seat and he shut the door behind her.

  “I’ll fix your sister’s car then, for free. In return for your help.”

  “It might be expensive.”

  Dylan shrugged. “I have a friend who owns an auto shop in Bozeman. He gives me a good deal on parts.”

  It would have to wait until Luke was far away from Moose Creek. “Well, all right then. Deal.”

  After a final wave she pulled out. In her rearview mirror Dylan grew farther and farther away until he disappeared into the darkness.

  Annie’s fingers ached from squeezing the steering wheel and she loosened them. What was wrong with her? Why’d he work her up in knots this way? Why’d she continually find herself drawn to him? To his strength and his vulnerability? Why’d she long to comfort him for a pain he’d suffered years ago?

  He might be a cowboy, but it was clearer than ever that he was a wounded cowboy. Maybe he was a better man than she’d given him credit for.

  Not that it mattered. All that mattered now was hiding Ryder and Sierra from Dylan’s brother.

  Dear Poleaxed,

  As you’re learning, sometimes things are not as they seem. Not even close.

  29

  Annie woke but kept her eyes closed, hoping to fall back to sleep. She had a full schedule tomorrow, and it started at the crack of dawn. It couldn’t be much past midnight.

  Despite her need for sleep, her mind drifted over the conversation she’d had with Sierra that evening. Annie had expected her to be upset about the lost opportunity at the newspaper, not to mention the lost income. But no.

  “I never wanted to work for that paper anyway,” Sierra had said. “You’d know that if you’d ever stopped to ask—which you didn’t.”

  Sometimes Sierra made her want to pull out her hair. Did the girl not see Annie was trying to help her? Didn’t she know Annie only wanted the best for her? It was as if she were still a rebellious teenager, not a twenty-year-old young woman and a mother to boot. But she tried to cut her sister some slack. She was under a lot of stress right now with Luke still in town.

  Annie heard a noise and lifted her head from the pillow.

  Voices. Sierra must be on the phone. She looked at the clock. It was past midnight. Pretty late for a phone call, but then, Sierra didn’t have to be up early.

  Footsteps sounded. Was someone here with her, or was Sierra just up and about? Annie hoped she hadn’t brought a man over. She knew that being in hiding had been hard for Sierra, but still.

  She turned down the covers and sat up in bed. Ryder didn’t need to wake up and find some man in the house.

  She heard Sierra’s voice again and realized it was coming from the porch. Annie sat still, listening. A moment later she heard the low rumble of a male voice.

  What was going on? Sierra had been watching TV with Ryder when Annie had turned in. She suddenly remembered the phone calls Sierra had avoided. Was her sister in some kind of trouble?

  Annie swung her legs over the bed, tugging her nightgown into place, then grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand. The hardwood floor was cold against her bare feet, and the bits of grit sticking to them reminded her she needed to sweep.

  The living room lights were out, and she peeked through the sheers, but the porch was dark too. Should she interrupt? She remembered Sierra’s complaints about her interference and stilled, the phone clutched to her chest.

  Instead she leaned closer, listening. Maybe she could hear what was going on first. But at the first sign of threat, she was calling the sheriff. She looked around the darkened room for a weapon and grabbed the heavy clay paperweight Ryder had made for her.

  “You should leave,” Sierra was saying. Her shadow moved to the door.

  “Wait. Please.” He reached for Sierra. His form seemed tall and solid on the darkened porch. “I just want to talk.”

  “You’ve said enough.”

  “I love you, Sierra. That’s never changed.”

  The doorknob clicked and the door opened.

  Annie eased back against the wall.

  “Go home, Luke, and don’t come back,” Sierra whispered, then closed the door.

  Luke was here? What did he want with Sierra now, after all this time?

  “Luke’s here?” Annie whispered harshly.

  Sierra jumped at the sound of Annie’s voice.

  “Why didn’t you tell me he’d seen you?” Annie whispered.

  Sierra’s mouth worked wordlessly.

  Annie pushed off the wall, tossing her phone on the sofa. She kept the paperweight, had visions of smashing it over Luke’s head, Dylan’s brother or no. Ryder had been without a father because that—that cowboy wouldn’t man up. Even now he only seemed to care about Sierra.

  Annie reached for the door. “Well, now that he found the guts to face you, I have a few things to say to him.”

  “No, Annie!” Sierra blocked her way.

  “Move it, Sierra! He left you and Ryder high and dry, and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  Annie grabbed for the doorknob. Sierra pressed against it, but Annie was stronger.

  “Please, you can’t!”

  “Oh yes, I can!”

  She wrestled the knob from Sierra.

  Her sister grabbed her arm. “He doesn’t know! He doesn’t know about Ryder.”

  At the terror in Sierra’s voice, Annie stilled. The words sank in, making her knees go weak. “What?”

  The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing, the ticking of the grandfather clock. Then the sound of an engine starting. A moment later it faded into silence.

  “I—I never told him.”

  Annie lowered her hand, staring at her sister’s dark form. “Yes, you did. You called him.” She’d been right there in the room almost five years ago, had forced Sierra to make the call. “He said he’d be in touch, and then he changed his number. You couldn’t find him . . .”

  But Annie was beginning to see that all that wasn’t true.

  Sierra had gone as stagnant as Whippoorwill Pond on a still August day.

  Annie backed away, the truth sinking in. When her legs hit the sofa, she sank onto it. All this time? All the financial struggles? And he didn’t even know? Ryder didn’t know his dad because Sierra hadn’t bothered to tell him?

  “Why? Why in heaven’s name didn’t you tell him?” She struggled to keep her voice down. Struggled to keep the anger and disappointment from letting loose the scream that rose in her throat.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me!” Annie knotted her hands in her lap. “Is he trouble? Is he abusive or cruel? Are you afraid of him?”

  “No!”

  “Is he married?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Then there’s no excuse for this, Sierra! You don’t have a man’s baby and not tell him!”

  Sierra crossed her ar
ms and sniffled.

  Annie drew a deep breath, then three more. She had to calm down or they’d wake Ryder.

  “We’ve done all right, haven’t we?” A tear sparkled on Sierra’s lower lashes. “I know it’s been hard, and you’ve gone to a lot of trouble for me, but we’ve managed okay.”

  “The man has a child he doesn’t know about. Cowboy or not, he deserves to know.”

  “I know that, okay?” she said on a choked sob. “I know. I just couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t, Annie!”

  Annie sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, then flipped on the dim reading light. They needed to talk this out. Calmly. She drew air into her lungs one more time. Two.

  “Come on. Come sit. Talk to me.”

  Sierra dropped into the recliner across from her. The sound of her weeping caught at Annie.

  Sierra had refused to talk about the relationship when she’d turned up pregnant. Annie hadn’t forced it once they’d lost contact with the father. And then Grandpa died, and they were reeling over that loss. Annie’d had her plate full just trying to settle his estate and keep their heads above water.

  “I can’t believe he found me,” Sierra said, whimpering.

  Annie frowned. “Found you?”

  “I—I didn’t give him my real number when we parted that summer.”

  “Why not?”

  Sierra shrugged.

  “I don’t understand.” Did she feel ambivalent toward Luke the way Annie had felt toward John? “You didn’t care for him? Didn’t want to see him again?” But that made no sense. Sierra had been despondent when she’d returned from the trip. Annie had suspected she was lovesick even before she’d known about the pregnancy.

  “I loved him. Don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I didn’t want to be in love! Not with him or anyone else. It never would’ve worked out. It never does.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Look at Mom. Good grief, Annie, love only made her miserable. Why would I want any part of that?”

  It was so similar to what she’d thought earlier about Dylan. How he’d been hurt by Merilee and was afraid to love again. How had she missed in her own sister what had been so obvious in Dylan?

  “I didn’t mean to fall in love with Luke. It was just a fun little summer fling, and then next thing I knew, I was in too deep, and I couldn’t make the feelings go away. It was all my fault.”

  Annie softened at her sister’s sorrow. “Not all your fault, honey.”

  “I pushed him too far. When the mission trip was over, I decided that was going to be it. A clean cut. Better I break it off than have him hit the trail later. I gave him a fake address and phone number so he couldn’t find me.”

  She wiped her face. “And then I found out I was pregnant. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Oh, Sierra.” She’d been so young, only sixteen. “I wish you’d told me.”

  Sierra looked across the space, her face looking older than its twenty years. “You can’t fix everything, Annie.”

  Annie leaned forward, planted her elbows on her bare knees. Maybe not. But she could help Sierra figure out where to go from here. She remembered Luke’s words on the porch. He’d said he loved Sierra. Annie didn’t know how that was possible after almost five years, but then, what did she know about love? According to her “Dear Annie” readers, not much.

  “Has he been looking for you all this time?”

  Sierra shrugged. “He didn’t at first. He said he felt guilty and figured I did too. But then he started looking for me and couldn’t find me. When he came here, he stumbled across your column, saw your byline, and remembered I had a sister named Annie. He asked Dylan about us.”

  Dylan? It would only be a matter of time before he put two and two together. “Dylan knows about you and Luke?”

  Sierra shook her head. “He didn’t say anything to Dylan. He only found out you had a sister named Sierra, and then he knew how to find me.”

  Annie thought the guy must either be crazy in love or just plain crazy to keep looking. Either way he had to be told about Ryder. He might even want a part in Ryder’s life.

  “You have to tell him.”

  Sierra’s head snapped up. “No. I don’t have to tell him. You stay out of this, Annie.”

  How could Sierra be so stubborn? So wrong? “He deserves to know. Ryder’s his child. What if someone tried to keep Ryder from you?”

  “This is none of your business. Stay out of it for once, Annie.” Her voice was cold and hard. She nailed Annie with a look. “I mean it.”

  “What if he tells Dylan, have you thought of that? It won’t take Dylan long to remember you have a son just about the right age to be Luke’s.”

  “He won’t tell Dylan. I made Luke promise not to tell him about us.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “A promise. I’m sure he’d never go back on his word.”

  “That’s for me to worry about, Annie.”

  “I would be worried if I were you.”

  “I’m not telling Luke. So you can get off the throttle. My son is a happy, well-adjusted little boy. He’s doing just fine without a father. Luke would leave, just like Daddy did, and where would that leave Ryder?”

  “Sierra. . .”

  “Think about it, Annie. Isn’t it better to never have had a father than to be abandoned by the one who was supposed to love you?”

  Annie hated to admit it, but Sierra had a point. Didn’t she know as well as anyone what that felt like? They both did. It left a child feeling worthless. She didn’t want that for Ryder.

  ”What if it didn’t turn out that way?” Annie said. “What if Luke wanted to be a dad? What if he stuck around and made Ryder’s life better?”

  “He won’t. I know him, and you don’t.” Sierra popped up from the recliner, leaving it rocking frantically in the dark, quiet room. “This is not your secret to tell, so you just stay out of it, Annie. I can handle my own life.”

  Annie watched Sierra stalk down the darkened hallway, heard her shut the door quietly behind her, and wondered how their lives had gotten so out of control.

  Dear Scared in Saco,

  Whoever said we have nothing to fear but fear itself has never been in love.

  30

  The jukebox cranked out a new tune as Dylan sank into a seat between his brother and Wade. He’d had to persuade Luke to come. The kid seemed down in the dumps lately, though he refused to say why. Maybe it was a girl from back home. Maybe he was homesick.

  Beside him, Wade was watching Abigail perform a line dance with Shay to the snappy tune they’d selected. Shay looked like she’d rather be riding atop a saddle of burrs than learning a line dance.

  “Where’re the kiddos?” Dylan asked. Maybe he’d ask Maddy to dance, get his mind off his troubles.

  “Miss Lucy’s got ’em.”

  So much for that.

  Luke picked at a thread on his cuff, looking like he’d rather be cleaning out a barn full of moldy stalls.

  “Why don’t you find a dancing partner?” Dylan said to Luke, scoping out the room. He nodded toward the wall. “That one’s got her eye on you.”

  Luke looked, then shrugged. “I was thinking about heading back, actually. Could you get a ride if I take your truck?”

  “Sure, I’ll run him home,” Wade said.

  “Great.”

  Dylan fished for his keys, frowning. Luke hadn’t even given the pretty blonde a second glance. “You sure?”

  “Think I’ll take a ride on one of your horses, if you don’t mind. There’s a little daylight left.”

  “Help yourself.”

  He watched Luke skirt the tables and leave the restaurant, then his eyes darted toward the far wall where Annie usually sat. The tables were filled, but Annie was nowhere to be found. Now that she and Oakley had split up, he didn’t expect he’d see her around here much. Wouldn’t see her much at all now that she’d lost her column. It was onl
y a matter of time before she finished with Braveheart, and then he’d only see her at church. He told himself he was glad. He’d let his feelings get out of hand.

  “So,” Wade said. “You’re dateless tonight, huh?”

  Dylan shrugged, looking around. “Plenty of fillies to while away the night with.”

  Wade’s lips twitched, but Dylan wasn’t in the mood to guess why. He took a swig of his drink instead.

  “And yet, here you sit.”

  Dylan opened the snack menu and pretended to check it over. He didn’t want to talk about women. Especially one particular woman. A woman who was more present, though she wasn’t here, than any woman in the room.

  “Guess you heard about Annie and John Oakley,” Wade said.

  “Yup.”

  He couldn’t forget the way their eyes had locked the night before. It had taken everything in him not to pull her into his arms and make her remember the passion between them. If he couldn’t forget it, why should he let her?

  “Something going on there?”

  “Nope.”

  Wade smirked. “Really.”

  Dylan clenched his jaw. Fact was, he was coming to the conclusion that he’d already let things get too far with Annie. His heart ached when he thought of her. He was starting to wonder if he was in love with her.

  The thought darted straight toward his heart and pierced it dead center. Bull’s-eye. There was no wondering about it. He had fallen in love with her. Somehow. Somewhere along the way. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, sure hadn’t wanted it.

  “Nothing to say?”

  He had to forget about Annie. But saying it and doing it were two different things, and he couldn’t seem to get any fire behind the idea.

  “Moving on to greener pastures,” Dylan said.

  Too bad no one else could hold a candle to Annie.

  “You know,” Wade said. “Gonna say something here.”

  Dylan scowled. “You have to?”

  “I’m remembering a night in my barn a couple years ago when you had a few words for me.”

  “That was different. You and Abigail were meant to be. Just had your foolish pride standing in the way.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way she looks at you.”