by Mary Leo
“No,” Jayden said, pulling on her hand. “Don’t like.” Then he abruptly slipped from her grasp, turned around and marched back out onto the dilapidated front porch.
RuthieAnn knew he would try to walk down the steps, despite having trouble with his balance on stairs. She took off after him and grabbed the back of his sweatshirt just as he was about to go off the first step.
“You have to wait for me, sweetheart,” she told him. “You know that.”
“Home,” he said. “Go home!”
RuthieAnn crouched down to his level and looked into his sweet baby-blue eyes as they peered out from behind black horn-rimmed glasses. “Do you remember that we’re on a trip, and we’re a long way from home? We’re going to be staying here for a while. For a whole month, that’s thirty days.”
He quickly shook his head several times, his arms flapping in defiance. “No. Go home. Go home now.”
Jayden had been born with FASD, Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, due to RuthieAnn’s own alcohol addiction from the first three months she was pregnant. She’d been seventeen at the time of conception, only weeks away from her eighteenth birthday, and in love with Gary “Lucky” Mathis, a twenty-five-year-old transient who promised to take her away from her dismal life. Little did she know how bad her life would really get once she left with the man of her dreams, a thief and a chronic physical abuser.
She pulled him in for a hug, knowing that he was starting to panic, a state that was difficult to control once it started. She hoped that a tight hug would help to calm him. Sometimes it worked . . . but most of the time, it didn’t. “I promise we’ll go home just as soon as we can.”
He began to cry. “Now,” he demanded. “Go home now!”
But before RuthieAnn could properly react to her child, a cowboy rode up on a beautiful black horse and then stopped near the bottom of the porch steps. Jayden immediately stared at the spectacle, wiping his eyes with his little fingers. RuthieAnn knew he’d never seen a horse up close before and the sight of it seemed to mesmerize him, and, for some inexplicable reason, it calmed him. She would have thought he’d be scared, but instead he let go of his mom, twisted his fingers together and continued to stare at the majestic animal in front of him while RuthieAnn also stared at the man who had somehow changed a potentially stressful moment simply by stopping by.
“Can I help you?” RuthieAnn asked, standing, then shading her eyes with her hand.
“I live up the road a piece, and thought I’d stop by to check on Clark. Haven’t seen him in a while. Everything okay?”
RuthieAnn didn’t recognize this rugged cowboy or know how he was connected to her dad, but whatever the connection, he sure was easy on the eyes. He sat tall in the saddle, wore a tan cowboy hat, jeans, bronze-colored boots, and a long-sleeved, dark blue button-down shirt that pulled on his buffed arms and across his ripped chest. There was something mesmerizing about this cowboy, something almost gloriously familiar about him, and despite her immediate attraction, she reminded herself of her dedication to Jayden.
“Clark was admitted to the hospital a few days ago,” she told him in a neutral, staccato voice. “He’s not doing too well.”
“Sorry to hear that. How do you know Clark?”
“I’m his daughter, RuthieAnn . . . RuthieAnn Dolan. And this is my son, Jayden.”
He tipped his hat and nodded. “Nice to finally meet you, RuthieAnn. Jayden. Name’s Chase Cooper. Mind if I dismount?”
RuthieAnn’s throat suddenly tightened and her heart raced. The man she’d left on the side of the road five years ago had just come riding up to her house. How was that even possible? Did he know she’d been the one to leave him? But they’d never met before that awful morning, and even then . . . he couldn’t know. He just couldn’t.
Still . . . was he there to bring her into custody? Was the local sheriff on his or her way? Had someone told him she would be coming back to Clark’s house today? But she hadn’t told anyone that she’d arrived in town, not even Pearl, her best friend who just happened to be married to the local sheriff.
This was not how she had imagined their meeting going down.
For one thing, she hadn’t recognized him . . . not really. In the sun’s glare, she hadn’t been able to look into his eyes. She remembered his eyes from that long-ago day, his beautiful gold-flecked eyes. She wasn’t ready to meet up with Chase Cooper. Not now. Not this morning. Even though she’d gone over her apology a million times, this wasn’t how . . . this wasn’t the place . . .
“No . . . I mean, Jayden and I were just leaving.” She held onto her son’s hand and started for the porch steps, but Jayden refused to move, slipping his hand out from hers. He stood completely still, solidly transfixed on the beautiful black horse.
“I don’t think your boy is ready to leave, at least not yet,” Chase said. “I knew Clark had a daughter, but he and your brother, Kevin, never really spoke about you. You’re kind of a mystery woman.”
That explained his not knowing her, but she felt certain it was only a matter of time until he did recognize her from that morning. Then all hell would break loose. She felt certain of it.
“I’ve been described as a lot of things, but I don’t think mystery woman has ever been one of them.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you are to me,” he said in a low rumbling voice, his face revealing absolutely no recognition.
Thing was, at the moment, she’d like to keep that mystery going . . . if at all possible. “We have someplace we have to be,” she said, trying her best to get out of there.
“I’m sure you want to get to the hospital,” Chase said, his baritone voice knocking around in her head. For someone who had nearly died, who, according to the reports she’d read, had suffered several broken bones, including his hip, collarbone, shoulder and four broken ribs, along with other internal injuries, he’d healed up good.
Thank God for that much, RuthieAnn thought. She hadn’t known what to expect.
“Home,” Jayden said, but his enthusiasm for the cause wasn’t as profound as it had been only moments ago. The horse had sidetracked him.
“My son doesn’t want to be here,” she said, wishing Chase would get the hint and leave. She could handle one of Jayden’s outbursts better than the panic she felt rushing through her veins as she stood face-to-face with Chase Cooper, the man who haunted her every waking moment.
“Can’t say that I blame him. Clark’s house isn’t exactly set up for guests.”
“Especially if they’re human. It’s a disaster. I’m surprised it hasn’t been condemned.”
Chase quickly dismounted, tied his horse to a broken stair railing, then ambled up the steps. His right leg caused him a bit of trouble, and from all her training in physical therapy, she could tell he favored his right arm too. It didn’t fall correctly from his shoulder. His hand turned out instead of aligning with his body.
RuthieAnn’s stomach lurched as he came closer.
“That bad, huh?” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’ve never actually been inside. I usually meet up with your dad at the tavern in town. He likes to play darts and I’m usually the one he gets to join him. He always beats me, and I buy him a beer. Even with my left arm, I’m better at darts than he is, and he knows it. Won’t let me just buy him anything. So we play darts. I pretend to lose and he pretends to win. It’s a mutual understanding.”
“You don’t mind being hustled, then?”
When he stepped up on the porch, towering over her and Jayden, she realized she’d been staring at him, watching his every move, trying to envision the extent of his injuries and all that he’d gone through to get past them.
RuthieAnn concluded that it must have been hell, and from the way he handled himself, he was still living in that hell but doing his best to disguise it.
He gazed over at her and she knew she would melt right there if he came too close. The man was ten ways of gorgeous with a chiseled face, deep-set eyes, a strong chin, and an extr
emely hard body that tugged on the buttons of his pressed western shirt.
“Depends on who’s doing the hustling,” he teased, a slight smile dusting his full lips.
“So, you have limits to being taken?” For some reason she went along with the fun.
“Only when I don’t like where I’m going. Most of the time, I try to be accommodating.”
“Is that with everything?” she asked, trying to keep a straight face.
A wide grin tugged at his perfect mouth, and she noticed the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin, and suddenly remembered he’d been clean-shaven when she’d looked down at him that morning five years ago. Maybe that was why she hadn’t recognized him earlier.
A charming grin captured his face, and tiny lines appeared at the sides of his eyes, causing him to look even more appealing, if that was even possible. His face had that rugged outdoors look to it that she’d missed on a man from her time of living in Vegas. There, most of her customers were old enough to be her grandfather, or the occasional weekend athlete or the neat and tidy clean-cut dealer. Very rarely did she run across a real man, and whenever she did, he was either engaged, already married or a complete and utter jerk. But Chase Cooper was none of those things.
He was, well, almost perfect.
“I thought we were talking about darts.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Of course. Darts.”
Jayden sat down on the first step and continued to watch the horse as it nuzzled the ground for any stray blades of grass that might still be growing despite not getting much water.
“Have we met?” Chase asked while staring into her eyes. “I mean we must have, right? You being Clark’s daughter and all. Unless you didn’t grow up here. Did you?”
It was a question that caught in her chest and sucked out her breath. He was going to put it together and she wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not now. Not here.
“Did I what?”
“Grow up here in Wild Creek?”
“Um. Yes. I grew up in Wild Creek, but not in this house. My mom, little brother and I lived across town in the mobile home park. And you’re a lot older than me . . . not that you’re old . . . I mean you and I probably didn’t travel in the same circles, and I’ve been gone a long time . . . a really long time.”
He had her almost tongue-tied. None of that came out right. Chase had to be about six or seven years older than her, which certainly didn’t constitute “a lot”.
“About how long?”
She hesitated for a moment, and considered fudging about the time, but then knew she couldn’t. If this was going to happen, then so be it. She’d just have to deal with the outcome before she’d mentally fully prepared for it. She sucked in a breath and braced herself. “About five years ago.”
She waited for him to put it together. To recognize her from the road that morning, but he didn’t. “That explains it then. Five years is a long time,” he said, then proceeded to walk into the house. “Tell me you weren’t planning on staying here,” he said from inside.
Her dad, a dedicated alcoholic with a surly disposition, was languishing in a hospital bed fighting liver failure and an acute case of bronchitis. So yes, she’d considered staying in his house for the month she and Jayden would be there.
“I’ve considered it, at least until . . . my dad’s doctor isn’t giving him much hope of recovery. ”
Chase made her nervous, made her confused. Not just because of what happened on that roadway five years ago, but because of his mesmerizing good looks, pure and simple. She remembered his eyes the most, those deep amber-colored eyes with golden flecks, eyes that she’d never been able to forget—eyes that had looked up at her pleading for help, eyes that had haunted her for the past five years.
“I wouldn’t count Clark out just yet,” he said, poking his head out through the open doorway. “He’s a tough old dude. Mind if I look around inside here? Maybe I can help.”
“Unless you’ve got a bulldozer handy, I don’t think there’s much that can be done to the place.”
Chase once again disappeared inside while RuthieAnn walked over to the steps and sat down next to Jayden. The black horse seemed to know that Jayden really wanted to meet him and poked his head over the railing to get in closer to both RuthieAnn and Jayden.
“It’s okay, Jayden. You can pet him,” RuthieAnn told her son, concerned over his hesitancy. She had hoped he would like horses and not be afraid of them.
Jayden gazed over at his mom for assurance, then slowly reached out a spindly arm to pet the horse that now stood perfectly still. Once Jayden’s hand made contact, it seemed as if his entire body shivered with excitement. He gazed back at RuthieAnn for a moment, his wide grin reflecting what she knew could only be complete delight.
“Horse,” Jayden said, as his little fingers flexed against the horse’s deep black muzzle.
“Yes,” RuthieAnn said. “This is a horse.”
“Midnight Shadow,” Chase’s voice rang out from behind them as he walked to where they sat on the step. “That’s his name and he’s as gentle as a kitten, Jayden. He loves to be touched and rubbed.”
“He’s beautiful,” RuthieAnn told him, finally able to appreciate the horse. She remembered how she’d always wanted to really learn how to ride well, but it had never happened.
“Do you ride?” Chase asked.
“I haven’t been on a horse in years, and this is the first time Jayden’s ever seen a horse up close.”
“Seems like he might be a natural rider. I’ve seen kids his age who won’t go anywhere near a horse of that size. The fact that he’s not scared is a good start.”
RuthieAnn had never even considered the possibility of Jayden riding a horse. “I don’t know. It might be too much for him.”
“I’ve worked with kids his age before, and kids with special needs. I don’t think it would be a problem. We’d have to take it slow. I’d have to know a lot about him, but it might be worth your while to think about it while you’re in town. That is if you plan to stay for any length of time. And if you are, you’re not going to be too comfortable inside Clark’s place. You were right. A bulldozer might be the only answer.”
“I’m sure we can find a corner to—”
“Maybe after it’s cleaned up, but that will take some doing. We have plenty of room on our ranch, and I’m sure my mom would be thrilled to have you and your boy as guests for as long as you want to stay, especially since your dad is so sick. He helped me out when I needed it most. I owe him. Heck, my entire family owes him. It would be an honor to have you and your son as our guests, and your husband if he’s here.”
RuthieAnn stood up. “I’m not married,” she said. “Never have been.” Not that it was any of his business, but she thought she should get that straightened out right from the start. But even so, there was no way she could stay with Chase Cooper and his family, not after what she’d done. Why did he have to be so nice? And so damn good looking? “Thanks, but I can’t . . . I mean . . . ”
Chase seemed to ignore her words and, instead, rumbled down the stairs, untied Midnight Shadow, and pulled himself back up in the saddle in one easy move. “Dinner’s at six tonight. If you drive east on the main road you’ll see the entrance to the Cooper Ranch. It’s your choice, but from what I can see inside that house, your boy deserves better. See you and Jayden at six, RuthieAnn Dolan.”
And before she could argue, he rode off.
Two
Chase didn’t know if he’d actually met RuthieAnn before, and if he had, under what circumstances. Ever since the accident, his memory of things had gotten jumbled up. Maybe that would account for the strong feeling that they’d met before. He didn’t know.
What really bugged him was his inability to dismiss the crazy notion that RuthieAnn was the woman in his dreams . . . the woman running barefoot up the side of the road, the woman with the battered and bruised face.
He’d never told anyone about his dreams, not his parents, his siblings
or any of his friends. He’d had the dreams way before the accident, and they kept right on going afterward, with even more frequency. Each time, she was always running . . . but from what?
He didn’t know the answer.
When he’d had his accident, just before he blacked out, he thought he’d seen her, only this time she wasn’t running. This time she was hovering over him. Floating, almost, and wearing a bright pink dress. Smiling. Her cheeks and forehead were still bruised. Her bottom lip swollen and cut. Still, she told him he would be all right. She always seemed to be wearing something pink, but for some reason it kept changing: a hat, a scarf, a sweater. He could never quite pin it down.
There were times when he wondered if she’d been on the back of his bike and he simply couldn’t remember picking her up or her name. Despite the records showing the contrary, he couldn’t figure out how the woman had gotten there so quickly. Was she simply a dream? Had he merely wished her there? He couldn’t remember, but she’d been so real.
Her words got him through a lot of the tough times. Times when he thought he couldn’t go on, when the pain was too much, the depression so strong he wanted to give up. He kept replaying that moment in his mind when the doctors would tell him he needed yet another surgery or he might not walk again or use his arm again.
Hell, he’d even played it in his head recently when his arm started to betray him once again. “You’re going to be all right. I’ve got you,” she’d said.
The crazy thing was, he couldn’t understand why RuthieAnn Dolan looked so much like his dream girl. How was that even possible? And why would an adorable woman like RuthieAnn ever have had a bruised face? That seemed entirely impossible. RuthieAnn struck him as a self-assured woman who could handle anything on her own, especially when it came to her son . . . mama bear extraordinaire.
