by Renee Roszel
He did as he was told. “Think I like it better,” he admitted. “I can grab the saddle horn easier if she tries to buck me off.”
“Right.” Anna resisted the urge to smile at the image of the gentle mare bucking like a bronco. “Now tap her with your heels and smooch her.”
“I’m not kissing this thing!”
She couldn’t hold back her laughter. “No, no. Make a smooching sound and she’ll start walking.”
He pursed his lips and smacked the air self-consciously, kicking Candy in the ribs with his heels. Obediently, the horse started forward.
“Good, now stick beside me and Freckle. Candy Cane’ll do whatever Freckle does.”
“Are you sure this nag knows that?” he asked, sounding more than a little nervous.
“Stay calm,” she soothed. “You’re doing fine.” Anna walked her mare up beside Candy, and then together they moved toward the open field and the woods beyond. After a few minutes, Anna noticed that Thad still looked ill at ease, and her heart went out to him. “How’re you doing?” she asked.
“Great,” he said from between clenched teeth, then he sneezed. “Just great,” he muttered, and tugged a handkerchief from his hip pocket to dab at his nose.
There was a thudding sound to Anna’s left. She turned in time to see Troop bolting across the yard with Nicole in hot pursuit. Anna reined Freckle but had no time to tell Thad what to do. The goat swerved right into Candy Cane’s path, and the horse reared, causing Thad to lose his balance. He grabbed wildly for the saddle horn, but missed and toppled to the grass.
As Candy galloped back to the stable, Anna jumped down from Freckle and hurried to Thad’s side. “Are you hurt?”
He lay sprawled on his back, his hat pushed over his face. “Just leave me here and let me die.”
Anna lifted the wide brim, and he squinted as the sun hit in his eyes. “Would John Wayne have talked that way?”
He struggled to sit up. “No,” he said despondently. “He probably would have said, ‘Just leave me here to die, pilgrim.’ ”
Anna patted his arm affectionately. “If you can joke, you can ride.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ve never seen Joan Rivers on a horse.” He plucked his hat from her hand and tugged it down so low on his head his ears splayed out. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I—” he sneezed violently “—don’t think I’m cut out for riding those things.” He swiped at his nose with his handkerchief, muffling his words. “The only way I ever get off is by being thrown on my butt.”
She smiled sympathetically and gave him a hand to help him up. “It could have happened to anyone, Thad. Don’t be upset. You’ve still got three days of vacation left.”
“Gee, thanks, rub salt in my wounds,” he groused, jamming the handkerchief back into his pocket.
Laughing, she looked around and spotted Nicole, still chasing Troop. They were heading toward her and Thad again. “Why don’t you take our lunch to my office.” She handed Thad the bag. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
He nodded, dusting off his backside with a painful grimace. “I might as well sell my chairs. I’ll never sit down again.”
She stifled another giggle. It wasn’t nice to laugh at a someone in pain. “Sorry, Thad.” By way of apology, she kissed his cheek. “I’ll help Nicole with Troop and be right with you.”
Her kiss seemed to cheer him immeasurably. “See you, sweetie.”
She ran over to head off Troop. After a couple of minutes of darting and blocking, she and Nicole got the goat to stop running. “He gnawed through his rope,” Nicole explained, wheezing from exertion. “And he—” she swallowed “—got in Max’s flower garden and ate some stuff.”
Anna felt dread sweep through her. “Stuff?”
The girl nodded, nervously chaffing her hands. “Like roses and, uh, stuff...”
“Oh, no!” Anna moaned. “Not Max’s prize roses?”
Nicole screwed up her face. “I don’t know. Which were the prize ones?”
“All of them.”
Anna turned reluctantly and saw Dusty standing a few feet away in a black suit and red power tie. “I’d say the goat ate about four thousand dollars’ worth, give or take.”
Troop burped.
“I’ll give your compliments to the chef,” Dusty added sarcastically.
Anna’s mouth went dry. “Does Max know?”
“I’d say so. He’s looking up recipes for goat chili.”
Anna heard Nicole’s gasp and glanced at her. “He’s kidding,” she assured the girl, hoping she was right. “Take Troop to one of the stalls we kept the goats in last night.”
Nicole looked worried. “Were you kidding, Uncle Dusty?” she asked cautiously.
“Max won’t hurt the goat, Nicole,” he said softly, but Anna thought there was a hint of irritation in his voice.
Nicole smiled, apparently satisfied. “Tell him Troop didn’t know he was being bad, Uncle Dusty. I’ll give him a good talking to.” Her eyes sparkled with affection and gratitude. “Are you gonna be here for lunch?”
He nodded. “I don’t have another meeting until four, so I thought I’d eat and then work Hazard.” He turned to Anna. “Have Hunky get him ready.”
As Anna nodded, Nicole shouted, “See you in the house, Uncle Dusty.” He acknowledged her with a wave as she tugged the goat toward the stable by the stubby piece of chewed hemp. “You don’t eat rope or roses, dummy,” she scolded.
Anna faced Dusty. She focused on his chin, for looking directly into his eyes bothered her. Noticing the bruise and cut on his jaw, she asked, “How’s the face?”
He seemed confused, charmingly so. She would have enlightened him, but decided it was foolish to remind him of one other goat catastrophe in a rapidly growing list and changed the subject. “It was sweet of you not to shout at Nicole.”
He didn’t answer immediately, and in the tense stillness Anna could hear a couple of blue jays squawking nearby. They sounded annoyed. She knew her boss was, by the flexing of his bruised jaw, and she wondered if he was about to squawk at her. “They aren’t Nicole’s goats, Miss Andrews. Why should I shout at her?”
Dusty was no longer smiling, and her stomach lurched. “I’m terribly sorry, I’ll—”
“I know,” he interrupted, a dispirited note in his voice. “You’ll pay for it. I’ve heard that before.”
She stood mutely, suddenly aware that the breeze had changed directions, for she could now smell Dusty’s cologne. Her pulse quickened in response. Disliking her reaction, she became impatient to leave. “Well, I’ll get back to—”
“You’d better reinforce the pasture fence with wire mesh to keep them in,” he said unexpectedly.
“Of course, that would help, but the expense—”
“Would be considerably less than what they’ve cost me so far.”
Needing to get away, she took a step backward. “I—I’ll go apologize to Max after I take care of Freckle and talk to Hunky.”
“Order that wire mesh today so it’ll be here in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured, taking a second and third step away from him. “I’ll get on that after—”
“I noticed the boyfriend’s riding expertise,” he commented, veering off the subject. “You might suggest he fall off farther from the barn, to help cure Candy Cane of being barn sour.”
Anna had carefully avoided his eyes, but at his gibe, her gaze shot to his. “He was doing fine until Candy Cane shied.” She took a deep breath to control her temper, but that was a mistake, because it just forced her to inhale more of his scent.
“What do you see in that guy?” he asked. It could have been a casual question, but it wasn’t—his voice was ever so slightly strained.
Not sure what to say, she lowered her glance to his polished shoes. They gleamed in the sunlight, irksomely flawless and unscuffed. She knew exactly how she looked—grimy with dust and sweat. She smelled of horses, too. With monumental effort, she straightened her shoulders and stared directl
y into his disquieting eyes. “Thad’s a good man, Mr. Dare. Hardworking. Steadfast. Trustworthy. We’ve had our differences, but he loves me and...”
“And you love him,” he finished for her.
She was unable to read his closed expression, and that made her restless, so she grabbed Freckle’s reins. How was she to answer? She cared deeply for Thad. That much was true. No other man had ever tried so hard to please her. Besides, hadn’t her mother always cautioned her not to be fooled by glitter and flash?
Her mother hadn’t been in love with her stepfather when they’d married, but she’d respected him. Love had grown between them over the years. Anna knew her affection for Thad would grow into love—with time—just as her mother’s affection for Bruce had. But she couldn’t exactly tell Dusty Dare that. In a tight whisper she replied, “My feelings are none of your business. However, if you must know, I love Thad very much.” It was only a tiny lie. Practically the truth, in fact.
The rancher studied her for a long moment, as though trying to read her thoughts. She held her brave pose, struggling to control the twisting knot in her stomach. Those eyes of his were simply too discerning.
“I see,” he said at last, his smile little more than a baring of teeth. “Then, good luck to you and your Bronco Billy.”
“Why should you care how I feel about Bronco, er, Thad?” she blurted, wondering why she was asking the question.
“I don’t give a damn, Miss Andrews. I just think there’s more to forging a relationship than buying Western clothing and falling off a horse a few times.”
“Oh, you do?” she returned. “I’m dying to hear your opinions, Mr. Dare, since you’re so great at relationships!”
He scowled down at her. “What does that mean?”
She didn’t know exactly. She had no idea why she’d said it. Where had her mind been? Obviously not connected to her mouth. “I, uh... Well, you’re not married or anything.”
His dark eyes glittered angrily, but she managed not to cringe. “Maybe I’m not married because I don’t play games. Maybe I’m not married because I don’t intend to be like my brother. Maybe I want to find a woman who can share my life and my passions. Is that all right with you?”
His features were rigid and uncompromising. She felt an unwelcome thrill at the conviction she heard in his words. But she tamped the emotion down and said, “I couldn’t care less!” Then she spun away to grab Freckle’s dangling reins and head for the stable. Some cruel inner voice fairly shouted, Just think what it would be like to be loved by that man. She forced the voice to be silent. It would be horrible! she told herself. No matter what Dusty Dare said, he’d never be satisfied to share his life with only one woman. He would tire of her and leave—just like her father.
Anna supposed the worst flaw a fireworks man could possess was the inability to realize how fickle he really was. Her father had vowed eternity to her mother, once. But his version of eternity had been very short indeed.
DUSTY WAS AWAY on business quite often during the next ten days, which was fine with Anna. But out of sight did not, unfortunately, put him out of mind. She thought constantly about his kisses, his scent, the feel of his warm skin under her hands.
Thad’s vacation had ended, and he’d gone back to managing Tulsa’s Elite Hotel, so Anna saw little of him. But they still had a couple of late dinner dates and a few “I love you” calls before she went to sleep.
Even when he was around the ranch, Dusty made no attempt to see her. Several times, while she ate dinner, Max had come into the kitchen with her instructions for the next day, minutes after she’d heard Dusty’s footfalls. Invariably she’d lost her appetite, knowing he was close, yet entirely disinterested in speaking to her.
This morning’s message had been a written one. It read, “We leave for Tahlequah at five tonight. Have Freckle in the trailer with two turnbacks and two herd holders.” He’d added a most unsettling postscript. “You’ll ride her in the three-year-old class. Consider it a test.”
She’d known about the competition, but hadn’t expected to go. She glanced uneasily at her watch. It was four-forty-five, and she’d been pacing beside the truck for ten minutes. Deciding that was a waste of energy, she climbed into the cab to stare absently out the windshield. A hawk rode a warm updraft, slowly, easily, silently. Watching such beauty usually eased her spirits, but today, every time the hawk spiraled upward, it only reminded her that another minute was gone, and soon she’d have to face Dusty Dare.
Freckle and the four other horses they’d be using during tomorrow’s competition were in the shiny thirty-foot trailer. Dusty certainly spared no expense when it came to his horses. It was a top-of-the-line model, as was the black and silver pickup it was hitched to.
Anna slumped back in her seat, closing her eyes and trying not to fidget. But her restless fingers played with her long braid as she prayed to do well. She hadn’t been in many competitions, but she’d trained a lot of working cutters. All she needed to do was relax and convince herself that she was simply cutting cattle.
To make matters worse, she had no news about Steven. She’d hoped that, after nearly three weeks, he would have come to his senses and returned the carving.
She twisted and retwisted her braid, fearing that this ride to Tahlequah would be about as pleasant as straddling a barbed-wire fence. But she vowed she wouldn’t crumble, no matter how nasty Dusty was. The most important thing was for him to see how well Freckle was responding to her training.
She’d grown to love that mare over the past few weeks. Freckle was the finest horse she’d ever trained. And if Freckle won tomorrow, it would go a long way toward proving that Anna was worthy of training Hazard, too. Rubbing damp palms on her jeans, she tried to be calm, but so much depended on the competition. Sometimes she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand upright, let alone stick in the saddle and win.
Her reverie was broken when Dusty opened the door and got into the driver’s seat. Clad in body-molding jeans, an Oxford shirt, black boots and a black Stetson, he was the epitome of a sexy cowboy. When he’d settled himself, it struck her that his shoulders took up an awful lot of room. Reflexively she slid closer to the door. He seemed to notice her withdrawal and gave her a long look. But he made no comment before turning to start the engine.
Apparently he’d decided to give her the silent treatment. She jutted her chin stubbornly. Okay, Mr. Dare, she declared inwardly. You’re not the only one in this truck who can play that game!
CHAPTER SEVEN
CLENCHING HER HANDS into fists, Anna stared out the window as they drove along the highway. Though the road was paved, Anna had the sinking feeling that the hour-and-a-half trip to Tahlequah was going to be one rough ride.
After a few minutes, she glanced surreptitiously at his profile. There was no doubt he was attractive, but there was a hard uncompromising quality about him that disturbed Anna. What if she didn’t win tomorrow? Wishing she was going to face something more pleasant—like have a tooth drilled—she turned to gaze out the window at the undulating green countryside, but saw none of it. She was too busy trying to relax.
“How are things going?”
After fifteen minutes of dead quiet, his question startled Anna so badly she nearly shrieked. Managing to mask most of her surprise, she asked evenly, “With my brother or the ranch or Freckle?”
A halfhearted smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Don’t panic. I was just making conversation. I can see things at the stable are under control.”
She was confused by his unexpectedly civil attitude. She looked at him, her gaze sweeping along his lean cheek to the chiseled lines of his jaw to check for a jumping muscle. There it was. He was provoked about something, but he was trying to hide it. She wondered what it was. “Well, if you mean Steven, I’m afraid nobody’s heard anything from him. Not even his friends. It’s as though he’s been swallowed up by the earth.” She kept her eyes trained on him, no matter how difficult it was to watch his jaw jump and
bunch.
He looked at her briefly, but said nothing. Silence again stretched between them and became so disturbing she felt compelled to say something. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dare. I know he’ll do the right thing in the end. Steven’s made some mistakes, but he’s really a good—”
“You don’t have to keep making excuses for your brother, Miss Andrews. No matter what happens, you’ve done your best.”
Caught off guard by his generosity, she didn’t know what to say. “That... that’s kind of you,” she managed finally. Dropping her gaze to her fists, she prayed that the Ross Sixkiller carving hadn’t been damaged. For the first time she truly believed that the man beside her didn’t want to put her brother in jail or take away their ranch. Still, if Steven had allowed that carving to be damaged, Dusty would be justifiably angry, and he would probably have no choice but to take punitive action. From what Max had told her about him, Dusty’s Cherokee heritage meant more to him than just about anything.
“How’s the boyfriend?”
She glanced at him, not sure she’d heard him right. “How’s what?”
“Mr. Hotel,” he said.
She heard the disdain in his voice, and it irritated her. “I don’t understand why you don’t like Thad. He spent a week at your ranch, freely giving his time to help you out.”
He arched a brow skeptically. “To help you out of your clothes, you mean.”
She gasped. “That’s vulgar and rude and—”
“And true,” he interrupted coolly. “But you’ll say it’s none of my business.”
“That much is true, anyway!” She shot him a quelling look, resentment at his audacity sweeping through her. “If you want to talk about business, Mr. Dare, that’s fine, but leave my personal life alone.”
She watched him clench and unclench the wheel as though he were trying to ease tense fingers. “I’ve lost my urge to chat,” he said.
