by Liz Isaacson
Why she’d brought it up, she didn’t know. Fishing for compliments?
You should tell him that boot is yours. She set it back down on the mantel like it had spontaneously burst into flames. It obviously means something to him.
“We’ll have so much fun this weekend,” he said, and Trina’s doubts roared to life. Just because he had the boot above his fireplace didn’t mean anything. And she didn’t want him to know they’d met at the masked ball. Number one, he’d ask a lot of questions about the change to her hair.
But he knew her name now, and where she was from, and panic bolted through her so powerfully, her legs shook. He couldn’t know who she was. Which meant he couldn’t know they’d met before.
Trina had left her tennis self behind. Gone was the dark hair. Gone was the ultra-confidence that drew rich and powerful men to her.
Though, one glance at where Cal still stood in the kitchen, and she felt a rich and powerful attraction to him.
“Listen, sweetheart, I have to go. I’ll see you Friday night.” He grinned at whatever the person on the other end of the line said, and ended with, “Love you too, baby. ‘Bye.”
So he had a girlfriend. Great.
Trina had never needed a drink so badly, but she’d wanted to escape one other situation more than this one, so she stayed put, right there in the man’s living room.
He finished filling her glass and presented her with an ice cold drink, his gaze sweeping over the cowgirl boot and landing on her.
“Where are you living?” he asked.
“Just around the corner from the bank,” she said. “I have a roommate.” She gulped the water to get herself to stop talking.
“Is she new in town too?”
“Who?”
“Your roommate.”
“Oh, no. I think she’s lived here for a while.” Just the state of Libby’s bedroom testified of that. Trina was pretty sure Libby had mentioned having a cat, but Trina had never seen one in the apartment.
“Hmm.”
“Why?”
His boots scuffed the floor as he shimmied around. He cleared his throat and Trina found a gorgeous blush staining his neck. She wanted to reach up and remove that cowboy hat, really see the full effect of his silver hair.
She reined in her scattering hormones, reminding herself that he was probably way too old for her.
“I’m looking for someone,” he finally said. “Did you happen to go to the Halloween dance a few nights ago?”
The water sloshed in her stomach, reminding her that she’d eaten very little that day. She blinked, and the handsome features of Cal’s face blurred. “No,” she heard herself say. “But I think my roommate did.”
Eagerness edged his eyes now. “Really?”
Trina needed to get out of there. Get out of there fast. “I better get back to Brynn,” she said. She put the glass of water down directly next to the boot and yanked open the door.
The fresh air outside did nothing to curb the rising panic, and Trina knew she wouldn’t be able to stop it. She flew down the stairs and around the side of Cal’s cabin only moments before the anxiety peaked and the attack started.
Sweat formed all over her face and arms, leaving her feeling clammy and cold though the winters Cal had mentioned certainly hadn’t arrived yet.
Her breath came in quick pants no matter how she tried to draw in a deep lungful of oxygen. She bent over and braced her hands against her knees and let the waves of anxiety roll across her shoulders.
The panic ebbed as fast as it had risen, leaving Trina weak and exposed. She straightened, finally getting that deep breath she needed, and swung her attention away from the ranch and toward the wilds of the prairie.
She walked the length of Cal’s house and stood at the corner of it, the waving grasses beyond his back fence a welcome balm to the busy morning she’d had.
Brynn could tell Trina was inexperienced, but she hadn’t questioned her. Hadn’t reprimanded her. Only worked with her with an extreme amount of patience. Trina was used to high-pressure situations—she actually thrived on them—so leading a horse hadn’t been too bad.
The panic attacks were new though, and she still didn’t have a handle on them. They always revolved around someone discovering who she was, and she’d left three other small towns like this one before arriving in Three Rivers.
She leaned against the wood of Cal’s cabin, something whispering through her that she didn’t want to leave this place. The longer she gazed at the beautiful horizon here, the more it calmed her.
“You okay?” Cal’s voice behind her made her turn.
She wiped her forehead and noticed that he held her hat in his hands. “I’m okay, yeah.”
He gestured with the hat back toward the front corner of the house. “I couldn’t help but—” He swallowed hard. “Overhear. You seemed upset.”
She glanced past him to where she’d stood. A window sat directly above that. Of course he’d overheard. Probably witnessed the whole thing. The fight left her body. Would it be so terrible if one man in one tiny Texas town knew who she was?
Yes, a voice shouted in her head.
That voice always won. That voice had led her to victory more times than Trina could count. That voice had helped her see reason when Carlos was caught cheating again. That voice had gotten her out of the very bad situation she’d found herself in.
That voice had brought her to Three Rivers.
“I have some anxiety,” she said, matching her gaze to his, almost daring him to pity her or even so much as say anything. “That was an attack. I’m still learning how to work through them.”
A frown marred his perfectly symmetrical features, pulling his left eyebrow down more than his right. “I’m sorry, Trina.”
That was all. No advice. No more questions. Just sympathy. She peered at him and found him to be genuine, no ulterior motives.
He was utterly refreshing.
“My ex-wife suffers from some anxiety,” he said, that frown still in place. “It’s a tough thing I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” He extended her hat toward her, and she took a couple of steps to take it from him.
“Thank you,” she murmured. After putting the hat back on, she faced the open land again. Cal joined her, only a foot away. It felt like leagues, especially when he tucked his hands into his pockets.
“So you’re divorced?” she asked, her tone a forced casual he’d surely be able to hear.
“Yep. Four years now.”
“Who’s your girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?”
“The woman you were talking to on the phone.” Trina stole a glance at him and found him staring at her, wide-eyed, those electric blue eyes sinking right through her skin and into her bloodstream. Did he know how handsome he was? Could he even comprehend what he was doing to her pulse right now?
He tipped his head back and laughed, as if that would somehow decrease his attractiveness. It didn’t. In fact, it made him even more desirable, because his laugh was a booming one that filled the sky and radiated pure joy.
“That wasn’t my girlfriend,” he said, still chuckling. He sobered and looked right at Trina, hooked her with those sharp eyes. “That was my daughter.”
“Oh,” left Trina’s mouth. “How old is she?”
“Six.”
Trina took the time to scan him from boots to hat. “You don’t look old enough to have a six-year-old daughter.”
“Really? You don’t think all this silver hair qualifies me to have a six-year-old?”
She giggled, beyond glad when he swept off his cowboy hat to reveal a full head of that delightful hair.
“How old are you?” she asked.
He gave her a sideways look, the corners of his mouth pulling up. “If I tell you, will you tell me?”
“Sure.”
“Most Southern women find it rude if a man asks their age.”
She leaned into the cabin again, this flirting easier than anything she’d done si
nce leaving California. “Well, I’m not a Southern woman.”
He swallowed again, and when he looked at her, he wore a hunger in his eyes she didn’t understand. “Thirty-nine.”
Relief poured through her. He wasn’t that much older than her, despite the silver hair. “Thirty-three.”
He smiled to the waving grasses and turned back to the ranch. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to Brynn’s.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know.” He went with her anyway, and Trina was glad to have the company, even if he stayed silent. He felt steady next to her. Strong. Calm. The exact opposite of how Trina had felt since leaving tennis, leaving California, leaving Carlos, leaving her whole life.
When they reached Brynn’s, he touched the brim of his hat and turned to go back the way he’d come. He turned around and walked backward, calling, “Lunch at my place tomorrow?”
“Sure,” she said before she could think.
He grinned, lifted one hand in a wave, and turned back around. Trina watched him go, unsure about what she’d just agreed to.
A date?
Just a friendly lunch in his cabin?
She groaned. How was she supposed to go back in there with that boot staring her in the face?
“Ah, there you are,” Brynn said, poking her head out of the door. “Did you get Cash the Check over to his appointment?”
Trina nodded as she started to follow Brynn into the front office.
“Great. I’ve got a horse for you to exercise before you go.”
“Yeah, okay,” Trina said, wondering why a horse needed to exercise. Another thing to add to her growing list of Things to Google When I Get Home.
“So you really don’t go to church?”
Trina rolled over and looked at Libby all dressed up in a black and red-flowered dress. Considering Trina was still in bed, unshowered, without a dress to her name—unless her tennis skirts counted—no, she really didn’t go to church.
“You go on without me,” she said.
“But I went without you last week.” Libby pouted and the teenager act would’ve been complete with a little stamp of her heeled foot.
Trina pushed herself into a sitting position. “Look, Libby, I don’t really go to church.”
“But it’s the best place to meet men.”
Trina gave her roommate a patient smile while silently contradicting her. The ranch was definitely the best place to meet men. There were at least ten of them out there, single, and working with her in close quarters for hours everyday.
She didn’t find any of them as intriguing as Cal, and she’d managed to eat lunch at his cabin a few times without completely falling apart. He didn’t ask her about her roommate again, or the dance. Didn’t even so much as glance toward the boot when they were together.
“I don’t want to meet a man,” Trina said, speaking the truth. Cal was different. Cal was…Cal. She wondered if he’d be at church with his daughter, thinking maybe it would be a good idea to see if Libby had anything Trina could borrow….
She then wondered how many churches there could possibly be in Three Rivers. Probably a dozen, and it would be impossible to know if Libby went to the same one Cal did. Then her pampering and borrowing would be for naught.
“Well, you’ll at least come to the church dinner this weekend, right?”
“Church dinner?”
“The pastor puts on a Thanksgiving Day dinner for everyone. He provides all the turkey, and we bring the sides. It’s a lot of food and fun….” Libby let her words hang there like turkey and mashed potatoes alone would be enough to entice Trina to come.
And because Trina had spent years eating bars specially formulated with exactly the right proportions of carbs and protein, she said, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
Libby squealed, pivoted on her heel, and left Trina to go back to sleep. She didn’t, but began plotting ways she could work the church Thanksgiving Day dinner into her conversations with Cal. Maybe she could sleuth out whether he went to church and if so, which one.
She’d enjoyed talking to him this week, and she’d even managed to figure out a few things regarding the job. She could lead a horse now, feed and water the horses, shovel out stalls, and find her way around the ranch, Courage Reins, and Brynn’s training facilities.
But if she were ever asked to ride a horse…. Well, that wouldn’t go well. She couldn’t even saddle one of the beasts, though she had been watching how-to videos online for the past few days. She’d found a really great channel and had been devouring the videos, from brushing down a horse to shoeing a horse.
Trina found she enjoyed the work. It was different than getting up at the crack of dawn to hit balls with Carlos. Different than going to the gym after eight hours on the courts and running until she felt like puking. Different than signing autographs, and flying all over the world, and always always always having to look perfect, act perfect, be perfect.
Her phone chimed, and she picked it up from the nightstand next to her bed. Her mom.
How did the new job go last week?
Great, Trina tapped out.
I’m glad. Still not going to tell me what it is?
I’m doing great, Mom. Really.
Your dad and I are worried about you. Jackie too.
Trina scoffed at the mention of her sister. Jackie had been texting since Trina left months ago. But it was never in the vein of worry or caring about where Trina was or how she was doing. Instead, she always mentioned Carlos and how upset he was that Trina had left him right in the middle of the tour.
As if Trina didn’t know when she’d left. As if Carlos had a right to be upset after what he’d done.
I’m somewhere safe, and I have a job, and things are going really great. Trina sent the text, aware that she’d used great multiple times. She didn’t know how else to help her mom. Even if things weren’t going so well, even when she’d left Tempe in the middle of the night because she thought someone had recognized her at the grocery store, she’d still tell her mom things were great.
She simply wouldn’t give her mother any more reasons to worry, and if that meant a little fib, then Trina was fine with that.
But she wasn’t fibbing this time. For the first time since she’d left Carlos, left tennis, and left California, she really was doing pretty great.
She didn’t need the money the job out at Bowman’s Breeds provided, but she needed something to fill her time. Not one to be idle, Trina craved long hours filled with hard work that required the use of her muscles. And the ranch was a perfect place for that.
After realizing she wasn’t going to fall back asleep, Trina got up and went into the kitchen of the tiny apartment she shared with Libby. The fridge didn’t provide many options, but she managed to cobble together the ingredients to make a really good hamburger.
When Libby walked in an hour later, fresh from church, Trina had a burger for each of them with a sliver of cheese melted on, a special sauce she’d made by mixing ketchup and mayo, and a slice of tomato.
“You can cook?” Libby gazed at the food like it was manna from heaven.
“A little,” Trina said. “Burgers.” She nudged one of the plates closer to Libby, who picked up the burger and took a bite.
“This is so good,” she said with her mouth full.
Trina smiled. “It’s my favorite food.” She picked up her hamburger and bit into it, the greatness of her life at the moment out of this world.
Chapter Five
“Hey, you wanna go riding?” Cal swung his daughter’s hand as they left church together.
“Can I ride Kit Kat?”
He beamed down at her carefree face. “Sure can.” A rush of love for the towheaded girl filled him. “And I think I even have some real kit kats in my fridge.”
“The fridge?” Sabrina wrinkled her nose the way she always did when she was confused. “Why do you put candy bars in the fridge?”
He chuckled. “It was an old trick I l
earned from my mom.” Just the thought of his parents made him sigh. They still lived in Dallas, in the same suburban home where he’d grown up with a brother and two sisters.
“She used to put treats in the fridge she didn’t want any of us kids to find.” He opened the door to his truck and lifted Sabrina onto the seat, which elicited a giggle from her. “See, we weren’t allowed to just open the fridge and get out whatever we wanted. So Momma put all her best stuff in there. Uncle Kyle was always tryin’ to take my stuff, so I learned to put it in the fridge too.”
“Uncle Kyle!” Sabrina said, her blue eyes brightening. “Does he still have that dog?”
It had been a while since Cal had taken Sabrina to see any of his siblings. His job at Three Rivers was seven-days-a-week demanding, and he only saw his daughter on weekends.
“He’s havin’ Thanksgiving dinner at his house in Austin this year,” Cal said. “We should go find out.”
“His dog was funny.”
“He taught him those tricks, you know.” Cal nodded toward her seat belt. “Buckle up.” He went around the front of the truck, scanning the patrons still streaming from the church building. He’d managed to learn from Brynn that Trina’s roommate was Libby Larsen, and while Cal wasn’t super thrilled to talk to the clingiest woman in town, he did want to ask Libby if she’d seen the monarch butterfly at the masked ball.
He’d seen Libby at church previously, but she didn’t seem to be there this week. His heart bobbed around in his chest, not fully anchored the way it should be. He wasn’t sure why he cared about the butterfly so much.
Trina had been eating lunch with him when their schedules aligned, and he enjoyed her company. Once or twice, he’d even wondered if she could be the butterfly. She had similar features—the shape of her face, though most of it had been covered by the mask, the length of her limbs, and the way she held onto her vowels longer than most Texans.
Of course, she wasn’t Texan, so that made sense.
Cal was just turning to get in the truck and take Sabrina horseback riding when he saw a flash of auburn hair.
