Return to Marker Ranch

by Claire McEwen

  “All right.” He wished she didn’t look so relieved about this little chat. He wished he didn’t feel so disappointed “Good night, Lori.”

  She smiled briefly. A little sadly, he thought. “Good night, Wade.”

  He stood there in the dark, watching her taillights rock back and forth as she navigated the pockmarked drive. Watched them until she rounded the corner and disappeared, taking the light with her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LORI TUGGED AWKWARDLY at the dress her sister had insisted she borrow. The cool night air tingled on her skin as she and Mandy crossed the gravel parking lot behind the High Country Sports Bar. She was so used to her jeans, boots and a T-shirt that anything else just felt odd. Especially this dress, which was short, and pale blue and very fitted. Every time she looked down, she was a little shocked by all the cleavage it revealed.

  Mandy had also blown out Lori’s hair and styled it in relaxed curls, put makeup on her and added a nice bracelet. Lori’s only contribution to her outfit was a pair of cowboy boots with pink roses up the sides that she rarely got to wear. No way was she going to put on the high-heeled sandals Mandy had pulled out.

  She felt kind of silly, but Mandy had promised her that she looked gorgeous. And the stranger she saw when she looked in the mirror earlier was pretty. Lori could admit that. But she so rarely dressed up, all that pretty seemed like it belonged to someone else.

  Mandy gave her a nervous smile and pulled open the door of the bar. Music flooded around them. “Well, here we go!” she said in a bright voice. The kind of voice you’d use with children on their first day of school. Or when you were trying to talk yourself into the idea that something would be fun.

  They made their way across the room. The dance floor was packed, and the bar was crowded at least two deep. “Why don’t you go find Sunny and everyone and I’ll get the beers?” Lori offered.

  Mandy nodded and drifted off toward the tables. Lori made her way to the bar, getting jostled by people who were leaving with drinks, and jostled again as people who were taller than her pushed past. Even in her boots she barely made five foot four, and she was just about to resort to using her elbows on the ribs of the people pushing past her when a large hand closed over her shoulder. She started and looked up at a whole new version of Wade—his dark brown hair combed out, a black T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest. He looked a lot different than the hot and dusty cowboy she’d helped out yesterday. He cleaned up well. Very well.

  “You need some help?”

  His words cut low through the music and rolled over her skin. It was a little hard to find her voice. “I can’t get a drink. I’m too short.”

  “You’re perfect.” He looked startled at his own words. “I mean, you look great...the dress...” His eyes strayed momentarily down her body, then back. “You look amazing,” he finished, and she realized he was flustered.

  That was kind of nice. The unflappable Wade Hoffman was tongue-tied. Maybe Mandy had known what she was doing when she put together this outfit.

  “Let me help you out here,” he said and reached for her hand. His was warm and wrapped firmly around hers as he walked them past the people who had just cut in front of her. With his military stature and stern expression, they all moved aside for him without question. She followed in his wake, taking in his strong back, the way his jeans fit so perfectly over his...

  “What are you drinking?” Wade’s question pulled her eyes up to his face, and she saw the flash of amusement there. He’d caught her checking him out. Her skin felt warm, but she tried to play it cool. “Two pilsners, please.”

  Wade met the bartender’s eyes over the heads of others and before Lori knew it, she had a bottle in each hand. “Anything else I can do?” His gaze fixed intently on her face as if her answer was all that mattered. Or maybe he was just trying really hard not to notice her cleavage again. It didn’t matter. It was impossible to look away when his dark eyes were locked on hers, and she was grateful for the beers filling her hands. If they’d been free, she would have traced her finger along the sculpted line of his lip.

  Enough. This was her being stupid around Wade Hoffman. That was just what she did. An old bad habit. “Can you see my sister from up there?” Lori had to stand on tiptoes and shout it into his ear—someone had turned the music up. The spice of his aftershave filled her senses. She stepped backward, bumping into someone behind her and almost spilled the beers.

  “Steady there,” Wade’s hands were on her arms, making sure she had her balance. He kept them there while he scanned the room, and it felt good. Grounding. What would it feel like if he pulled her close? If she could just lean on him and let his strength hold her up. It had been forever since she’d had that luxury. “She’s over there.” He pointed to the back corner of the bar. “With a bunch of other women.”

  “Thanks, Wade.” She stepped out from under his hand reluctantly.

  “You’re welcome.”

  It was her cue to walk away. But she didn’t, because he was watching her as if he wanted to say more. And she was rooted to the ground because, deep down, she wanted to hear it. She had to remember that this moment was nothing. A quick little fantasy that had nothing to do with the reality of them. That no matter how nice this was, he was the guy who’d hurt her. Her worst mistake. The reason she’d tried so hard to avoid mistakes ever since. “Well, thanks,” she said, raising the beer bottles vaguely in his direction.

  “Anytime.”

  “Oh, good. Have fun tonight.”

  “You, too.” He raised his beer in a small salute. “Come find me if you need someone tall.”

  “Thanks. It’s always useful to have a tall friend.” Ugh. Why couldn’t she think of something better to say? She took a swallow of one of the beers. If she was going to be that socially inept, at least she should have some alcohol in her system to blame it on.

  She made her way carefully through the crowd, trying not to spill any beer on Mandy’s dress. Trying to get used to the idea that from now on she’d run into Wade in the local bar. Or in the grocery store. Or at town events. Thank goodness she didn’t get out much, because she didn’t want to run into him. She’d worked so hard, for so long, to put everything that had happened between them behind her. But the way her heart was pounding right now showed her just how unsuccessful she’d been.

  * * *

  LORI WAS THE most beautiful woman in the bar. The most beautiful woman he’d seen anywhere. Wade tried to focus on his game of pool and what Todd was telling him about the horse he was training. But his eyes kept drifting back to Lori over at her table, chatting with her girlfriends. What did she talk about when she wasn’t talking about cattle?

  She was a magnet for him. He’d noticed her the moment she’d followed her sister into the bar, and when he’d gotten over his initial jaw-on-the-floor reaction to the way she looked in that dress, he’d realized she’d needed some help at the bar.

  And he’d practically sprinted across the room to be the one to offer.

  But what had surprised him was how easy it felt. He’d always felt kind of awkward out at bars. He was too honest and blunt to be good at pickup lines, and he’d never mastered small talk. But with Lori’s hand in his, her voice sweet in his ear with her drink order, he’d felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.

  When he finished bungling his shot, he glanced up again and saw Lori out on the floor, laughing with her sister in a line dance. Everyone always said that Mandy was the pretty one, but to Wade she looked like Goldilocks—pale, simple and sweet. It was Lori who radiated beauty. She always had. There was so much life glowing from within her. With her wide, friendly smile, her deep blue eyes, her hair streaked with sunlight, she outshone any other woman on the dance floor.

  He was used to Lori in jeans and a T-shirt. Tonight her cheeks were flushed, and that blue dress
set off the gold of her skin. It showcased a lot more, too. And he wasn’t the only guy in the bar who’d noticed. Not by a long shot. Envy coiled in his gut every time someone looked her way, which was pretty much every thirty seconds. All night she’d had attention—a few men stopped by her table, asking her to dance. He’d been happy she’d refused them all, but not surprised. That was Lori. If she was on a girls’ night out, than it was all about her girlfriends. She wasn’t the type to desert them just because some guy was checking her out.

  “You know you haven’t stopped staring at her all night.” His future brother-in-law, Todd, elbowed him and handed him a new beer. “Why don’t you just go talk to her?”

  Wade took a pull from the bottle. “I already did. That’s Lori, the one I told you about who helped me with the heifers.”

  Todd raised an eyebrow. “The one whose water you swiped?”

  “I didn’t swipe it. Not intentionally.”

  “You also didn’t mention that she was gorgeous.”

  “No, I didn’t. Because she’s just a friend.” She’d made that abundantly clear the other evening. Though maybe, just maybe, she’d felt something more between them over by the bar tonight. It seemed like she’d been checking him out a little. He hoped so.

  “I don’t get it,” Todd said. “If you like her, just tell her.”

  Tell her what? That he’d always been crazy about her? Or that he was damaged? That war had turned him into a weakling who could barely hold it together in a noisy bar? “I screwed it up a long time ago. I don’t think she’s interested.” Wade took another drink and then turned back to the pool table. “Come on, it’s your turn.”

  Playing pool was simple. Better to stick with that than to stare at Lori. Sometimes he felt as if he’d been watching her like this, with this intense longing, his entire life. And as always, he had no idea what he needed to do to be worthy of her regard.

  But he couldn’t concentrate on the game. Lori was dancing again. Then he bumped into a few guys he used to hang out with in high school, so there were some back slaps and hey, how you beens. It was kind of nice to know that a few people seemed happy to have him back in town. When he glanced up, Lori was back at her table. Some guy was trying to talk to her, so Wade forgot his turn and then missed every ball, and Todd finally got fed up. “I’m finishing this table out solo,” he said, removing the cue from Wade’s hand. “And you’re going to go ask her to dance.”

  “She’s not dancing with guys. She’s here with her friends.”

  “I’d bet she’d dance with you.”

  Wade took a swallow of his beer. Todd was so in love with Nora that he’d taken up matchmaking. “Nope. Not doing it.”

  “Yes, you are, because I’m sick of playing with someone who’s so pathetic. You’ve been shot at. In a war. Surely compared to that, asking Lori to dance is easy.”

  Wade shook his head and downed the rest of his beer. “I’ve never asked a girl to dance.”

  Todd stared at him in disbelief. “Not even in high school?”

  “Definitely not in high school. Didn’t go to dances.”

  “Let me guess. You were the guy leaning on the truck outside the dance, a beer in one hand and some girl under your arm?”

  “Sometimes. When I was trying to be cool.” But he sure didn’t feel cool now. In fact, just the thought of going up to Lori’s table made him feel like the most gangly school kid ever.

  “I’ve got two words for you,” Todd said, leaning against the pool table and eyeing him speculatively. “Man up.”

  Todd was right. How had he turned into the guy hiding in the corner, too scared to talk to a girl? Wade set his beer down on a shelf along the wall and wiped his palms on his jeans. He squared his shoulders and turned to cross the room. And froze. Something was wrong. The guy was gone and Lori’s friends were chatting and laughing, but Lori looked pale. Miserable. She drank the rest of her beer in one gulp, said something to her friends and all but ran out the side door of the bar.

  Every instinct Wade had went into protective mode. Without a single conscious thought, he was on his way across the bar, pushing past others to get out the door and into the night. He had to find her. Had to make sure she was okay. Only then could he breathe again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LORI GASPED, WELCOMING the night air into her body, trying to cool the burning behind her eyes, in her lungs, deep in her heart. She stumbled down the slope alongside the bar, desperate to get away from the chatter inside. Glancing around, she spotted a group of picnic tables under a shadowy stand of pines. The tears came before she made it to their sheltering darkness. And with them, a sense of bewilderment. How could something that happened so long ago still hurt so much?

  “Oh God,” she whispered, the weight of regret pushing her down onto one of the wooden benches. “Why did I...” The sobs didn’t give her a chance to finish.

  Her friends had been talking about babies. Sunny had two. Heather and Tina each had one. They were great moms, showing photos and trading sweet stories about their little ones.

  She should have been happy for them. But all she could think about was the baby she didn’t have. The baby whose tiny, barely there life she’d ended.

  Seeing Wade again had cracked the walls she’d built around this pain. And all the innocent excitement of those new mothers had completed the demolition. It was there, glowing like plutonium in her mind, as poisonous as ever despite her efforts to contain it. She hugged her knees as the sorrow suffocated and the regret lashed, so merciless, so cutting. There was nothing she could do but huddle under the agonizing storm and gasp useless apologies—to herself, to God, to that tiny person who never got to be because she’d been too damned frightened to face what she’d done.

  “Lori? What the hell? Are you sick?” Wade knelt before her, trying to get her to lift her head with strong hands that she pushed away, not willing to show him the wreck of her face. The chaos of her soul.

  “Lori, please, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  “Go away,” she gasped, trying to stop the sobs, her whole torso heaving with the effort. He was the last person on earth she wanted here.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Always. She always hurt. Because this pain had lived inside her, corroding her heart, for years now.

  “Lori?” He took her hands and pried them gently from her face.

  “No. Don’t look at me,” she whispered, utterly broken, and now totally humiliated. “Leave me alone.”

  “Shh...” He handed her a bandana. “I can’t leave you until I know you’re okay.”

  She dabbed at the streaming tears, but there was no point. They weren’t stopping any time soon. She buried her face in the fabric. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  “Hey,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Trust me, I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse.”

  War. He’d seen war. He’d gone to serve his country. So brave, while she’d been the biggest coward. She sat and shook with grief and guilt.

  He stayed, his hand in her hair slowly soothing until the worst of the shaking stopped. Then he moved quietly to sit down next to her. “I need you to tell me—did anybody hurt you tonight?”

  She could hear the fear in his voice. And the fierce, protective note beneath it.

  “No one.” She pulled in a jagged breath. Just me. I hurt me. And our baby. “Oh God,” she said again as the pain returned, throwing wild punches to her middle. She folded underneath it, collapsing on his shoulder, wracked by silent sobs.

  “Lori... Honey...” She’d never heard Wade sound helpless before. Or so kind. He pulled her in with strong arms, cradling her to his huge chest and holding her tight, as if he realized that he was the only thing keeping her together. “Lori...” He murmured her name over and over, into her hair, into her neck, a plea for her to stop.<
br />
  But how to stop, when there was no way for this pain to end? No matter how much she cried, or wished she could go back in time and make a different choice, she couldn’t. What she’d done could never be undone. At the clinic the counselor had assured her that she’d feel better as time went on. But she never did.

  Her tears had soaked his shirt. In a moment he’d ask again what was wrong. The thought sobered her and slowed her sobs just when she’d rather have kept crying and prolonged the inevitable.

  He sensed the pause in the pathetic torrent he held in his arms. “Lori, please. There has to be a way for me to help.”

  “You can’t help.” All the tears had diluted her voice to a watery whisper.

  “Can you at least talk about it? Tell me what’s wrong?”

  The dilemma she’d been facing ever since he’d come home was on her now. He’d tried to comfort her—how could she repay him with lies? But if she told him, this pain would be his, too. That wasn’t fair. It had been her choice. He shouldn’t have to live with the consequences.

  She unballed the sodden bandana and dabbed at her face. Drew in a shaky breath of the cold, clean mountain air. Then another. “There’s no point talking about it. It’s something I have to live with. Something I did a long time ago.”

  “I might know something about that,” he said, stroking her hair softly. “Living with ghosts.”

  Living with ghosts. A ghost. “It’s not something you’ll want to know.” And then it occurred to her. What if she told him and he thought it was no big deal? Many people seemed to feel that way. But for her, that might be even worse than him getting upset.

  He shifted, trying to see her face in the darkness. “What do you mean? Lori, we grew up together. You couldn’t tell me anything that would change how I think of you.”

  Ha. “This will.” She felt like she was about to jump off a cliff. And she had no idea what it would be like at the bottom. But he deserved to know.