Unbridled (Unlikely Lovers)

by Brooks, Cheryl

  With a skeptical lift of his brow, he took another sip. “That’s crap and you know it. Just tell me which one and I’ll check her out.”

  Miranda stared at him for a long moment. It’s me, she wanted to say. Are you happy now? But, of course she didn’t. Jade gave her a disgusted look and sauntered into the living room.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Admit it. It’s the only reason I get invited anywhere. No one can stand the fact that I’m not married.”

  Could be because you’re so dammed cute.

  She heaved a sigh. “Actually, there are four to choose from—Christina, Dana, Mary Beth, and my sister, Tracy. I’m not doing any matchmaking. I’m simply providing you with options.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” he said grudgingly. “I’ve had enough blind dates to last a lifetime.”

  Miranda felt relieved, but at the same time, a bit let down. If he was that willing to meet them, he clearly had no interest in her whatsoever. “You see? It’s perfect. None of them even know you’re going to be here. I can introduce you to everyone, and you can take it from there.”

  “Or not.” He speared an olive with a toothpick like he wanted to kill it. “I’m not sure I’m ready for another failed attempt.”

  “I only have this one party a year. It was either that or take you to work with me—although we’d have had to meet Christina for lunch. She’s a lawyer.”

  He grimaced. “That’s about as bad as dating a doctor. Does she at least like horses?”

  “No, but she’s really pretty.”

  “Yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.” He popped the olive into his mouth and chewed it slowly. She never would have imagined that simply watching a man eat an olive could be quite so fascinating. The play of muscles in his jaw drew her eye, and then when he swallowed… “If they were, I’d have stuck with the doctor. She was real pretty too.”

  Sighing, she blinked away her carnal thoughts. “I don’t know what else to tell you. Just enjoy the food and the company and go home whenever you’ve had enough.”

  And get the hell out of my life so I won’t feel so dammed miserable every time I look at you.

  She began rolling the sausage mixture into balls and putting them on a cookie sheet. She didn’t realize she was throwing them down until Travis came around the table and put a hand on her shoulder. He was so close, the scent of his cologne won out over the aroma of the pastry-wrapped olives baking in the oven. Her chest tightened and tears stung her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Miranda.” His voice was soft and deep, making her pulse race when he clearly meant to be soothing. “I know you’re only trying to help. I’ll keep an open mind when I meet your friends, but I can’t promise any more than that.”

  “I never expected anything else.” Miranda hoped her lilting tone sounded more cheerful than she felt. “I want you to be happy, that’s all.”

  “And I appreciate that. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  At least he acknowledged the fact that she had feelings. Nurses were supposed to be tough—like the one referred to in Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca with “all humanity washed away by years of disinfectant.” Miranda was strong, but had managed to retain her humanity, and though she wasn’t easily hurt, it did happen now and then.

  “It’s okay.” She moved out from under his hand to put the tray in the oven and take out the olives. “But when I hear you going on about never finding the right woman, it makes me want to do something to help you.”

  “I know that, and I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on. The trouble is, I know what I want, but it’s something I can’t have.” Travis paused, running a hand through his hair. “I just have to resign myself to it.”

  “What is it you want?” Miranda immediately wished she hadn’t spoken. It was none of her business.

  “I’d rather not say. I think it would be a mistake—one that I would regret for a long, long time.”

  She had no idea how to respond to that. Fortunately, a knock on the front door provided a welcome interruption. She held up her dough-covered hands. “Could you please get that?”

  “Sure.” He seemed almost as relieved as she was.

  Judging from the babble of voices coming from the front room, several guests had arrived at once. Travis must’ve found someone to talk to, because he didn’t come back.

  Scared him off but good, didn’t I?

  Tracy breezed into the kitchen with a plate of cookies. “Merry Christmas!” She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Who’s the hottie who answered the door?”

  “That would be Travis York,” Miranda replied. “He’s a farrier—shoes a lot of horses at Nigel’s barn. Nice guy, but he’s had some woman trouble lately.”

  “You mean you invited him to the party to help him find a new girlfriend?”

  Miranda shook her head. “I am not matchmaking. He’s only here as a friend. If he hits it off with you or one of my buddies, then so be it.” She finished her speech with a flourish of a sticky hand, tossing the last sausage ball onto the pan.

  Tracy set the plate of cookies on the table and cleared her throat.

  Miranda glanced up to find her sister scowling at her with arms folded and foot tapping. “Looks to me like there’s a helluva lot more to it than that.”

  Crossing to the sink, Miranda pressed her lips together as she washed her hands. Tell Tracy the real truth and she’d never hear the end of it. “No, there isn’t. Of course, he thought the same thing you did. He asked me who he was supposed to check out.”

  “Smart guy. Was I included on that list?”

  “Yes, you were—along with some friends from the hospital. Christina broke up with Mark, so she’s available too.”

  “Poor Travis.”

  Miranda stared at her with surprise. “What makes you say that?”

  Tracy shook her head, her lips pursed in disgust. “I’m surprised Mark stuck with Christina as long as he did. That is one high-maintenance woman.”

  Which was true. “Maybe, but he might not like her.”

  “He’ll be taken in by her looks. You wait and see.”

  Miranda didn’t think Travis was quite that shallow, but men were strange. They would insist they wanted a woman with a brain and latch onto a bimbo in the next heartbeat. Christina wasn’t a bimbo—far from it—but she was every bit as gorgeous as the average supermodel. “It’s out of my hands. I’m not going to try to influence him in any way.”

  Tracy arched a skeptical brow. “Yeah, right.”

  “Seriously. He’s only here because I thought he could use some cheering up. If you’re interested, go talk to him.”

  “And I’d have your blessing?”

  Miranda frowned. “Since when do you need that?”

  Tracy blew out a breath, visibly exasperated, although Miranda was at a loss to understand why. “Never mind. Need some help in here?”

  * * * *

  Travis figured out which one was Miranda’s sister almost immediately, but she was strictly off limits. No way was he going to take the chance of spending the rest of his life with the wrong sister.

  The nurses were nice. Too nice. They deserved better than a man who saw them as the next best thing. Christina, on the other hand, was beautiful and shallow and still hung up on her ex-boyfriend. Perfect. She was a carbon copy of Shelley—though hopefully without the jealous streak. If he asked her out, the whole relationship could be over and done with in a couple of weeks. Travis could say he tried, and then Miranda could stop playing matchmaker and things could get back to normal between them—whatever that was. He wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d be right back where he started.

  As the evening progressed, he couldn’t deny he’d enjoyed himself, although it would have been better if he could’ve spent more time with Miranda. Unfortunately, trying to catch another moment alone with her was like trying to catch a moonbeam. His conversation with Christin
a had yielded a date, and he was sure Miranda would be pleased. Still, those few moments alone with Miranda before the party remained stuck in his head, and he wanted to repeat them, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Alan would be proud that he’d managed to get through the evening without dragging Miranda off to her bedroom and…

  Don’t even think about it.

  But he did think about it. He liked her. Hell, he even liked her house. Granted, most places looked their best at Christmastime, but hers was homey, warm, and comfortable. Staying until everyone else left was easy; he’d been the first to arrive, and everyone else had parked behind his truck. He tried to tell himself he hadn’t planned it that way, but he knew he had.

  Miranda had introduced him as “my friend, Travis York” to everyone and then left him to fend for himself. She obviously didn’t intend to hover, though he did catch her watching him from time to time. She gave him the occasional encouraging smile, but when he sat next to Christina, she’d averted her eyes before he could meet her gaze—obviously not wishing to interrupt him when he was doing exactly what she’d asked him to do.

  No, she hadn’t. Not really. She’d said she wanted him to be happy—and he knew exactly what it would take to make that happen. Christina had nothing to do with it.

  When the last stragglers left, Tracy and Travis stayed behind to help with the cleanup. He’d made up his mind he would leave when Tracy did. That way he wouldn’t be alone with Miranda again. Barring a call to Alan for support, that was the best strategy.

  What he hadn’t counted on was that Tracy would sneak out ahead of him. Travis had finished wiping off the kitchen table when he heard the front door close.

  “That’s it for another year,” Miranda announced as she returned to the kitchen. “I’m beat. I’m sure you are too.” She handed him his coat—obviously ready for the party to be over.

  “I wanted to tell you, I asked Christina out.”

  “And…?”

  “She said yes.”

  “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “It’s never hard to ask someone out the first time. It’s the follow-up dates that are tough.”

  She nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yeah. The whole ‘Do I invest more time in this relationship or not?’ thing.”

  “That’s right. I guess I’d better get going. Thanks for the invitation.”

  “Thanks for coming.”

  Travis knew he shouldn’t do it, but when she walked him to the door, it was the most natural thing in the world to turn and give her a hug. He probably squeezed her too hard and held her too long, but she felt so good in his arms, he couldn’t help it. At least he hadn’t done anything really stupid. Like kissing her until her knees buckled.

  Miranda watched him go, waving as he backed his truck out of the driveway. Travis had done exactly what she’d hoped he would do, which meant it was only a matter of time before he and Christina fell in love and set a wedding date. They’d live happily ever after, and Miranda wouldn’t have to wonder when he was ever going to realize how much he meant to her. Everything was falling neatly into place. She should be happy.

  So why was she crying?

  Chapter 8

  Christmas came and went, and Miranda saw the New Year in with Lola and Peggy in the ICU, sharing a cup of sparkling grape juice with her only alert patient. After that, she found herself looking bleakly forward to another year without Kris and now, without Travis. He’d taken Christina out a few times and reported that things were going pretty well. At least, that was his side of the story. A bit later, she heard Christina’s version, which was quite different. Travis had promised to keep his mouth shut and quit complaining. Christina had no such qualms.

  “He’s boring,” she announced when Miranda met her for lunch. “He doesn’t like anything I like, and I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

  “Boring?” Miranda didn’t get bored when all she could do was look at him. Christina was either completely nuts, or all the time she’d spent with the criminal element had skewed her perspective. “He’s never seemed boring to me.”

  Christina gave her shoulders a haughty shrug. “You’ve never dated him. He doesn’t know anything about the law and doesn’t even watch any legal shows on TV. I couldn’t talk to him about anything.”

  “Not even the weather or politics or having babies?” Where did that one come from? Christina had never said anything about wanting children—at least not that Miranda could recall.

  “Oh, sure, I could talk about those kinds of things.” She paused, frowning. “Except the having babies part. He simply doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a lawyer.”

  “Who could possibly know that except another lawyer? I don’t expect anyone to understand what it’s like to be a nurse. No one would believe half of it, anyway. It’s one of those things you have to experience firsthand.”

  “You at least like horses, so you’d have that much in common.” She flipped open her menu and began reading, avoiding Miranda’s gaze entirely. “I didn’t like him, so let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

  Miranda heaved a sigh. “Okay, case closed.”

  So much for getting him married off. She couldn’t blame Travis for not wanting to seem like a whiner, but whether he hit it off with Christina or not, he was still there every week at Nigel’s for her to gaze at, dream about, and shed a few tears over. She’d been alone for a very long time. What was it about Travis that made her feel so lonely?

  Christina peeked over the top of her menu. “Have you heard from Mark?”

  So that’s it. No wonder she thought Travis was boring.

  Miranda would’ve thought Mark was boring if she’d tried to date him while she was still in love with Travis—which, she had to admit, she probably was. Somewhere along the line she’d gone from simply thinking he was cute and sexy to believing she couldn’t live much longer without him. She still got her “Travis fix” once a week, but she needed more.

  “Not since before the Christmas party when he called to say he’d asked his new girlfriend to go to Florida with him on some sort of fishing trip.”

  Christina nodded, tears welling up in her lovely eyes. “I heard that too.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I could never go on those trips. I was always too busy.” She paused, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. “I wish I’d made more time for him. That’s why he left me, isn’t it?”

  Miranda put down her menu, giving Christina her full attention. “He told me he wanted more than the little scraps of time you had for him. He wanted to do all of those things with you. Obviously, he got tired of waiting.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way he’d give me another chance, is there?”

  Miranda knew exactly how she felt—hurt…empty…hopeless. She shook her head. “I think he’s pretty much spoken for now. I’m sorry, but I have a feeling it’s too late.”

  “Well, I guess that’s that.” She took a deep breath and sat up straighter, as though attempting to appear normal. “No one ever said life was going to be perfect. I’ve got my work and...not much else.” Her face seemed to crumble and she slumped forward, sobbing.

  Consoling her friend when all Miranda wanted to do was to cry was difficult. She still didn’t understand how a beautiful, successful woman could seem so wretched. But, as Travis said, looks weren’t everything, and neither was a good career.

  Miranda let her cry until the waitress came to take their order. Christina pulled herself together after that. They went on with lunch, but Miranda doubted that she even tasted it. She certainly hadn’t, and she could hardly recall what she’d eaten a few minutes afterward.

  They parted with a hug, and Miranda drove home in the rain, the weather matching her mood. Three wet dogs came out to greet her when she arrived, as did her soggy cats. The horses stood waiting at the gate, seemingly oblivious to the rain, and she slogged up the hill through the mud only to find another lake where the barn floor used to be. The whole world was beginning to mildew, and
as she swept away the flood, she couldn’t help wondering if she wasn’t getting a bit moldy herself—which was certainly the way she felt.

  * * * *

  Travis had been working on the gray gelding for fifteen minutes when Miranda arrived for her lesson. He knew precisely how much time had passed because he’d been checking his watch every three minutes for the past forty-five. He doubted he would even need to tell her he and Christina—who hadn’t struck him as the type to suffer in silence—weren’t seeing each other anymore.

  Miranda responded to his wave with one of her own. “I heard you and Christina didn’t hit it off very well.”

  “I thought we did. Apparently, she didn’t.” Seeing no point in making Miranda think he didn’t like her friends, he at least tried to appear unhappy about it. “Too bad. She seemed very nice.”

  She hadn’t seemed that way when she’d informed him that they’d gone on their last date together. She’d sounded like a prosecuting attorney as she ran down the list of excellent reasons why they were a complete mismatch. Since he secretly agreed with each and every one of them, he hadn’t bothered to argue.

  “I can’t say you didn’t try.” Miranda heaved her saddle onto the rack and left to get her horse.

  “That’s all of my news,” he said when she returned. “What’s new with you?”

  “New? There’s nothing new,” she said bitterly. “Mud, rain, mud, rain, flood, mud, rain, and more rain. My barn is a quagmire.”

  He dropped the hoof he was working on and stood up. “Sounds like you need a ditch around your barn.”

  “I have a ditch around my barn.” She snorted with disgust. “It’s not big enough, but it’s the best I can do with a shovel since Santa didn’t bring me a backhoe for Christmas. I also asked for a concrete floor in the barn. Didn’t get that, either.”

  “Dunno about concrete, but my brother has a backhoe.”

  She shook her head. “Can’t afford it. I’d have hired someone a long time ago if I had the extra money.” Her wistful smile sliced right through his heart. “Sorry. I just needed to vent a bit. I don’t expect you to fix it.”