by Seton, Cora
“Everyone, this is my wife, Ella,” Austin put in.
“You’re the actress, right? Ella Scales?” Maya said, doing away with any hope Ella might have had that she could remain anonymous. She surveyed the younger woman. Maya didn’t look more than twenty-one—a sweet, fresh, pretty country girl with light brown hair and blue eyes. Her sister was more vivacious, with darker curls and bright hazel eyes.
“Yes.” Ella edged closer to Austin, although what protection he could give her, she wasn’t sure.
“You can’t say anything, though,” Camila told Maya. “We promised Ella that no one would tell a soul that she’s here. She wants a break. She doesn’t want reporters around.” She turned back to Ella. “I’m sorry; I didn’t know what to do when they told me they were coming here.”
“That’s okay.” Ella shrugged. “I guess there wasn’t anything you could do. I just hope everyone will keep quiet about my whereabouts. I don’t want to talk to the press.”
“I don’t blame you,” Maya said with a dramatic shiver. “The way they hunt people down and follow them all over the place? It’s creepy.”
“It is creepy,” Ella agreed. “Are you joining us for dinner?”
“No,” Stella said. “We already ate at the restaurant and have more chores to do. Liam had heard Austin was on his own here this week and wanted to say hello. When we told Camila that we planned to bring him some chow, she said she’d come along—it’s her night to go home early.”
“How did you two meet? Weren’t you supposed to marry Anthony Black?” Maya asked.
“It’s a long story,” Ella said and looked to Austin for help, but he and the Turner men had already drifted off toward the bunkhouse.
Chapter 13
‡
“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk at the wedding,” Liam Turner said as Austin showed them the renovations they were making to the bunkhouse. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?” Austin hoped Ella was all right back there with the women. He’d seen her expression when the Turners drove in—she hadn’t wanted any company out here.
“For your service to our country. I have a lot of respect for you and your brothers giving so many years to the military.”
“Thanks.” He searched for a new topic. One that wasn’t so loaded with the landmines of bad memories. “We’re installing new windows in the bedroom and splitting it up into a main room and offices for each of us.”
“Did you see a lot of action over there?” Brody asked. He was one of the Turner cousins, so Austin hadn’t grown up with him and didn’t know his character. The question he’d asked was one Austin particularly hated.
“Some. We’re going to install new appliances in the kitchen, too. We’ll make it a self-contained house…”
“Where were you in Afghanistan?” Brody interrupted.
“Kabul, mostly.”
“How many tours did you do?”
“Three. We’ve fixed up the chicken coop, too,” Austin said in desperation. “Ella worked on that.” He knew he shouldn’t turn the conversation to the actress, but he was desperate to turn it from himself.
“Did you…”
“Brody, can it. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” Liam said.
Brody furrowed his brow. “Why not? He’s a hero, ain’t he?”
Austin’s gut clenched. He hated that word most of all—especially when it was directed at him.
“Don’t you know anything?” Liam went on. “When a guy gets back from a tour, you’ve got to let him decompress a bit. Right, Austin?”
“Right,” he said gruffly. He led the way back out of the bunkhouse.
“But you must have seen some crazy action,” Brody pushed. “You were in the Special Forces, right? That’s some bad-ass stuff! You should be proud to be a hero!”
“You know who’s a hero in my eyes?” Austin snapped, knowing he had to change the subject before he lashed out. The man didn’t know what he was saying. He had no military background and no doubt from the outside the life of a soldier in the Special Forces seemed heroic—even glamorous.
It sure as hell wasn’t glamorous.
“Who?”
“My father. And he never set foot in the military. He stayed right here all his life. Worked this ranch. Married my mother and treated her like a saint. Raised us boys up strong and proud. He kept his temper long past other men. He made peace when the neighbors got to fighting. He didn’t make a splash, didn’t get his name in the newspapers, didn’t run around the world trying to be a super-hero. He just made sure he got his work done every day. Made sure his family was fed and housed and clothed and knew wrong from right. That’s my idea of a hero.”
No one said a word. Austin knew his outburst had surprised them all. He ran a hand over his face, fighting to regain his composure. “All I’m saying is I’m a lot of things, but I’m no hero. Not yet.”
“Okay, Austin.” Liam’s tone was soothing. “We get it. Looks like you aim to stay here now, though—just like your father did. You’ve got a wife. Soon you’ll have kids, too. Plenty of time to be just like him.”
Austin’s throat clogged with pain. Plenty of time, but no way he’d ever be like his father. His marriage was a sham. There’d be no children. He’d already done enough damage that heroism was out of his reach forever.
“Sure.” His answer was curt. “Plenty of time.”
* * *
“See you soon,” Ella called out as the Turner women and Camila climbed back into one of the trucks. She breathed a sigh of relief as they drove away with the men. She’d learned that Camila rented a room on the Flying W and that she had moved to Chance Creek to get away from a disapproving family back in Texas. She liked Stella and Maya Turner—and Camila—but found it hard to navigate a conversation with them when there were so many secrets to keep. She wanted to believe the women wouldn’t spread news of her whereabouts to anyone else, but she knew that chances were the whole town would know about her soon, if they didn’t know already.
“Ready for dinner?” Austin asked, steering her back toward the Hall. Soon they’d have to finish renovating the kitchen so they could eat at the bunkhouse, but for now she enjoyed the main house’s sunny kitchen.
“Yes. It smells good.” She was prepared for him to question her about what she’d said to the women, but Austin seemed preoccupied. Grim, even. She wondered what the men had said to him, but decided not to ask. After they ate and washed up the dishes together, Ella sat at the dining room table, a ring of paint samples in front of her, with Milo settled for a nap at her feet. She was looking for possible color combinations for the bunkhouse’s interior, and after a few minutes she settled into the task, letting the afternoon’s events slide away. The press would come or it wouldn’t. There was little she could do except trust the Turners not to broadcast her whereabouts.
She thought a smoky gray with white trim would make an elegant pairing, but would perhaps be too elegant for a cottage and too cool a color scheme in the long Montana winters. She switched to a warmer palette of creams. Maybe that was the way to go. As she went, she wrote down possible color combinations on the yellow notepad she’d used earlier for sketching plans for the bunkhouse and for ideas about the future. She was quickly running out of paper. She’d have to ask Austin to bring more notepads home, or maybe even a proper journal.
Austin brought his laptop and joined her, cruising websites listing horses and cattle for sale. He’d told her he’d most likely go through the same connections his family had always used, but that it didn’t hurt to scout around some. She was surprised to find how comfortable it was to work near him, once she got over the idea that she had to chat with him. Austin didn’t seem to need conversation, so she was able to concentrate on the colors in front of her.
When she was done, she decided to retire to the bedroom to read a little before sleeping. Austin had brought home a sack full of books from the library and she set it on the table and rummaged throug
h them until she found one that caught her fancy.
“I’m going upstairs for a while.”
“Ready for bed?” Austin looked up. Was it her imagination, or did the idea interest him? The idea that it interested him certainly interested her.
“No. It’s early. I was just going to read.” She waggled the paperback at him.
He nodded. “I’ll be up soon. I thought you might like that one; it’s by my mother’s favorite author. I caught my father reading one of those once, too.”
“Really?” Ella looked at it again—a sweeping saga of a family in Louisiana. “What were they like? Your parents, I mean.” She tucked the book under her arm.
“Incredible.”
Ella blinked. She didn’t think she’d ever heard anyone use that word to describe their parents. “In what way?”
“In every way. Those two loved each other. Loved each other. You couldn’t miss it.”
“Wow.” Ella was jealous. What would it be like to love someone so completely, you felt comfortable enough to let it show? Hollywood was hard on couples, so maybe she was too negatively biased, but even her parents, who she felt sure loved each other deeply, weren’t openly demonstrative.
“They were best friends. Knew each other growing up. Not quite the girl and boy next door, but close. They palled around as kids, stayed friends into their teens, even when they dated other people. Then, pow—Dad looked up one day and realized he’d always loved Mom. He couldn’t figure out why he’d been wasting his time with other women. So they got married. They lived life fully. They made good friends, worked hard, ate well, had a beer now and then, laughed a lot.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back before Austin noticed. Would she ever get a chance at a partnership like that? She and Anthony had never loved each other like Austin’s parents had, even when they’d first gotten engaged. No… a marriage like that took true friendship, something she’d never experienced with a man.
She watched Austin as he scrolled down a list of web pages and clicked on a link. Could she ever be friends like that with him? She liked what she’d seen of him so far—his work ethic, his devotion to his family’s ranch—but she had a feeling he was a man with secrets, and secrets were the enemy of friendship.
“Mom still misses Dad. We all do. Things aren’t the same without him,” Austin went on.
Ella smiled wistfully. “I think I’d like your Mom.”
“You’ll meet her sooner or later, I suppose.”
Right. Why hadn’t she put that together? Of course she’d meet Austin’s family—he wasn’t hiding out from the world the way she was. But he hadn’t told them about her either, had he? When would he do so?
And when would she have enough guts to tell her own parents about him?
Speaking of which.
Time to update them on her current circumstances. She wouldn’t call them, though. She didn’t want to try to go into lengthy explanations about where she was and what she’d done.
“Can I use your laptop for a minute?” she asked Austin.
“Sure.”
She called up the email account she only used with family and typed in what she wanted to say, keeping her message brief and leaving both Anthony and Austin’s name out of it. No sense making it easy for the paparazzi if they somehow intercepted the note.
Hi Mom and Dad,
All is well. On Vacation. Needed a break from the coal mines, so I decided to get back in the saddle again. Having much needed fun. I’ll be in touch soon to give you a real update.
Love,
Me
“Thanks,” she told Austin when she’d sent the e-mail, hoping her parents could decipher the cryptic message, but knowing they’d have plenty of questions for her when it was time to talk. “I’ll head upstairs now.” Milo got to his feet, ready to follow her.
“I’ll be up soon.”
Chapter 14
‡
No matter what, he wouldn’t be with Ella tonight, Austin promised himself as he checked his usual forums and played a few online games. He’d already been with her once today and that was once too often. Telling her about his mother and father’s relationship—about the way they’d been best friends—reminded him that he’d had a best friend once, and now Donovan was dead. No sense putting himself through the wringer again, even for someone as lovely as Ella.
But Ella had felt so damn good in the bunkhouse this afternoon. She always felt so damn good. When he laughed with her, he remembered just how sweet life could be, but all that sweetness was a trap. Life wasn’t sweet—it was a minefield waiting for you to get distracted and take the wrong step. Falling for Ella would be a wrong step. From now on he’d keep his distance—especially at night.
And during the day.
He’d been gratified by her reaction to Milo, though. At first he’d thought about buying a puppy, but when he’d spotted the mutt at the Chance Creek Veterinary Clinic and Animal Shelter, he knew immediately Milo was the right dog to choose. He was just under two years old, energetic but with an even temperament. Austin had a feeling Ella needed a dog like that in her life. The way they had taken to each other proved him right.
He checked his watch, played another round of online poker and checked his watch again, wanting to give Ella a little time alone. When he closed his laptop and stood to head upstairs, he noticed the yellow pad she’d written in earlier, still stuck under the bag of library books.
He set the bag in the corner for the following day, then moved to tidy up the ring of paint chips and the notepad. As he picked it up and let the pages fall into place, he spotted his own name on one. Austin flipped back to see what she’d written.
It took him a moment to work out that she’d been making plans. Brainstorming about the future. First came a list of things he assumed she desired: peace, happiness, belonging, community, usefulness. All perfectly normal desires, as far as he could see. Next came a second list. Perhaps the elements required in her life in order to achieve those desires: fresh air, movement, horses, children, Austin.
His name had a hard line etched through it. She’d changed her mind about him.
But her first inclination had been to include him. Interesting.
There was a third list on the page. A handful of possible occupations. He smiled as he read them. Ranch hand, stable girl, riding teacher, equine therapist.
Equine therapist. He’d heard of that. People who used horses as a kind of therapy tool.
And the last one, written over and over again: mother.
After the lists came several pages in which she detailed the life she wanted to live. Austin knew he shouldn’t read her private thoughts, but he couldn’t stop himself. The picture she painted made his heart ache. She wanted all the same things he once thought he’d wanted. If only he could share that with her.
He tucked the pad into the bag of books and made his way up the stairs, thinking all the while. Her vision of life resonated with his. It was outdoorsy, ranch-based. Full of heart. She wanted children. She really wanted children.
She wanted him.
She might not ever admit that, but it was clear that she did. Despite his best intentions to squash this budding relationship with her, Austin’s blood beat faster in his veins, and his steps up the stairs were quick.
When he entered the bedroom, Ella was curled up in bed reading her book. Milo lay on a small carpet on the floor beside her. When she noticed him, Ella slipped out of bed long enough to put away the paperback, revealing to him that tonight she wore a tank top and panties to sleep in. Not as bad as last night, but still too many clothes for his taste, now that he knew he’d been on her mind. She hadn’t used his name in her description of her fantasy husband, but he recognized himself in him. She wanted him—not just as a lover, but as a possible partner.
As he stripped down, she turned away quickly and he bit back a smile. If he was a gentleman he would leave on his boxers, but he wasn’t a gentleman, and ever since he’d seen his
name on her list, he’d been tingling with the knowledge that she ranked him right up there with fresh air, horses and children. That and the fact he’d seen she wasn’t wearing a bra under that top of hers, sparked a desire in him to see just how much his nearness—and nudity—affected her.
By the time he’d crawled between the covers, there was no mistaking where his imagination had taken him. He tried to resist the urge to scoot up behind her, press against her back and let her know exactly how much he wanted her, but it was a losing battle. What would she do if he did?
Remember, Hall—keep your distance, he told himself.
Screw that. Suddenly Donovan’s Texas twang was in his head. There’s a willing woman in your bed. Go get her, soldier.
Austin chuckled. If Donovan were here, that’s exactly what he’d say and maybe he’d be right. He didn’t have to have a relationship with Ella. They were both adults—they could enjoy each other’s bodies with no strings attached.
Ella let out a long sigh just then.
“What’s wrong?” As if he didn’t know.
“I want—”
He waited for her to finish the sentence. She didn’t. Instead, she rolled to face him and slid her hand over his chest. He sucked in a breath as she laid her palm flat over his heart, let it rest there, then smoothed it up over his shoulder and down his arm.
“I know I’m not supposed to do this.”
He was glad she had. With a growl of desire, he pulled her close. The minute her body was pressed against his, he couldn’t stop for anything—not until he’d had his fill of her. She threw herself into making love with as much fervor as he did. Her passionate kisses and the way her breath hitched when he touched her told him everything he needed to know.
Austin flipped her onto her back, skimmed her tank top up and over her shoulders, cupped her bare breasts in his hands and feasted on them, teasing them to hard peaks, squeezing them and laving them until Ella writhed beneath him.
