by Sherry Lewis
“Maisie wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you, girl?” Dean pulled a carrot from his pocket and held it out so the horse could smell it. Maisie pulled her lips back and nibbled with exquisite tenderness for a second, then snatched the carrot away with a toss of her head and chomped it in half.
Annie shuddered at the animal’s brute strength but laughed at the gleam of triumph in her big brown eyes. “Just tell me she can tell the difference between me and that carrot.”
Dean came closer and nudged her gently with one shoulder. “You really should stop worrying. I promise I’ll keep an eye on you.”
His eyes seemed to promise more than just a riding lesson, and warmth spread through every inch of Annie’s body in response. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Before Dean could respond—or do any of the wonderful things she imagined while they were hidden by Maisie’s tall back—Tyler shouted something and the moment was gone.
Dean cleared his throat and jerked his head toward Maisie. “Ready?”
Annie nodded before she could have second thoughts and paid strict attention when Dean showed her where to put her hands so she could pull herself into the saddle.
“Put this foot in the stirrup and push off with the other leg. You’ll have to use your arms to pull yourself up and swing your free leg up and over while you’re on your way up. Do all that and you’ll be set. I’ll help you get your other foot into the stirrup when you’re up there.”
It sounded simple enough, but it was a long way to haul herself. She could barely see over Maisie’s back. She gripped the saddle just the way Dean had showed her and heaved with all her strength, but she only made it about halfway up Maisie’s broad side before her arms gave out and she came sliding back down to the ground.
Laughing softly, she flicked a quick, embarrassed glance at Dean. “It’s not something I do every day.”
“It will be by the end of the summer. Want to try again?”
Annie nodded and repositioned her hands. But she failed twice more and started wishing that she’d taken time to use the spa membership she’d bought back in Chicago. A little more upper-arm strength would have come in handy.
“Once more,” Dean said when she came back to earth again for the fourth time in a row. “I have a feeling that you’ll make it this time.”
Annie shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
He came up close behind her and spoke in her ear. “Once more. You’ll make it, I promise.”
His breath caressed her neck and sent a delicious shiver up Annie’s spine. Heat emanated from his body and made her long for a minute alone so she could steal a kiss instead of hoisting herself onto Maisie’s back. She lifted her gaze to meet his and lost herself for a long, breathless moment in his bottomless eyes.
It would take a lifetime to explore all the hidden mazes inside Dean, all the twists and turns, the ins and outs of his mind and heart. Eventually, some lucky woman would get that luxury, and for a heartbeat Annie wanted to be that woman. But she didn’t belong in Whistle River, and Dean would never leave.
Aching suddenly, she turned back to Maisie and gave it one more try. As she lifted off the ground, Dean’s strong hands cupped her backside and pushed her up and into the saddle. Surprised, she threw her free leg across the horse’s back and clutched the saddle horn with both hands as she landed in the saddle with an oomph.
Dean grinned up at her. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She shifted to make herself more comfortable, but she felt like a wishbone with her legs stretched across Maisie’s back, and she could still feel the imprint of Dean’s hands through her jeans.
His eyes roamed her face as he showed her how to hold the reins and how to move them to achieve the results she wanted. His hands brushed hers, whispered against her thighs and calves as he taught her what to do. Finally, he set her walking Maisie around the paddock.
Nessa swung into the saddle as if she’d been riding her entire life. Tyler, flushed with success because he’d convinced Dean to let him ride a slightly more spirited horse, mounted like a pro. Within minutes, Dean and Gary were both in the saddle and ready to go.
Annie held her breath as Gary led the way out of the paddock. Nessa took up the second position and Tyler rode right behind her. Annie clutched her reins tightly and murmured comforting words as Maisie began to walk toward the gate, but she needn’t have worried. Maisie fell into step behind Tyler’s horse and followed its every move as if she were tied to its rump.
Dean brought up the rear, and Annie was conscious of his eyes on her as they crossed the meadow. Within minutes, the breeze, fresh air and scenery captured her imagination and her self-consciousness began to fade. Only the sound of hooves striking the ground, the soft snuffle of the horses, an occasional voice broke the stillness. As they crested the first hill and the Eagle’s Nest disappeared, Annie could almost imagine that she’d traveled through time to a hundred years earlier.
The scents of pine and soil filled the air. The hush of the forest began to work its magic. The feel of Maisie’s muscles working beneath Annie’s legs was surprisingly calming and the rhythm began to lull her.
No wonder Gary loved it here. No wonder Dean had chosen this place to help him heal. Annie could almost imagine wanting to stay forever, herself.
TWO HOURS LATER, Dean sat beside Annie on the stream-bank high in the foothills and watched Nessa and Tyler wading a few feet away. Hot July sunlight sparkled off the water, but this section of the bank was partially shaded by a dense thicket of river willow.
A burst of laughter from the kids echoed in the stillness, Annie moved gingerly on the boulder she’d claimed, and a sensation Dean hadn’t experienced since he was a young boy overwhelmed him. It had been years since he’d felt such a sense of belonging, of togetherness…of family.
He gave himself a mental shake and tried to put the feeling behind him, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. In a few weeks, all of these people would leave. The Eagle’s Nest would echo with silence, and he and Gary would be back to living the life of a couple of lonely old bachelors. Not long ago, that life had looked pretty good.
Now it seemed sad and pathetic.
Annie shifted again and stretched one leg gingerly. She was so beautiful sitting on the edge of the creek, the sunlight in her hair, her eyes the color of the water, Dean could have sworn his heart actually ached.
“We never should have stopped,” she said with a grimace. “I’m so stiff and sore I don’t think I’ll make it back into the saddle—even with your help.”
Dean tore his thoughts away from the future and forced himself to concentrate on the here and now. “Sorry. To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten how uncomfortable riding can make you the first few times. I should have warned you.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. If I’d known, I never would have let you shove me onto Maisie’s back.”
Upstream, Nessa cupped her hands together and scooped water onto Tyler. Tyler responded with a growl, tried to grab Nessa around the waist and nearly lost his balance in the process. Annie smiled fondly at the kids and Dean thought she looked a little less worried about their friendship than she’d been by the fire.
Battling another pang of loneliness, Dean swept a comforting gaze across the scenery. The soft green of willow, the dancing leaves of aspen and the black-green of pines climbing toward mountain peaks still distant enough to appear purple gave him the sense that all was right with the world.
“You could have stayed behind,” he said, “but then you’d have missed this.”
Annie’s expression sobered as she followed Dean’s gaze. “That would have been a sin. I’ll miss this when we leave.”
Words rushed to the tip of Dean’s tongue and he almost asked her to stay, but something made him hold back. He’d spent his entire life as a bachelor, and until six weeks ago he’d never seriously considered doing anything else. Annie and the kids made him want to change everything about himself,
but he wouldn’t do that unless he was absolutely certain that he could live up to the changes. It would be better to let them all leave than to convince them to stay with a bunch of promises he couldn’t keep.
Annie stretched again and glanced upriver. “How long do you think Gary will be gone?”
Dean could have kissed her for changing the subject. Hell, he would’ve used any excuse for a kiss. But he didn’t dare give in with Nessa and Tyler only a few feet away. Instead, he replied, “He’ll be gone an hour—or long enough to catch his limit of trout. Whichever comes first.” He watched her testing her muscles for a few minutes and forced away the urge to offer a full body massage. “I guess you won’t feel much like cooking dinner tonight, will you?”
Annie bent one leg, then the other, and moaned softly. “No, but I’ll do it. I don’t want to stop moving or my muscles will freeze. If I take some ibuprofen first, I should be okay.”
“We’re the ones who did this to you. Let us take care of dinner.”
Annie’s lips curved gently. “Technically, Maisie’s the one who did this to me, and tempting as the offer of a night off might be, I really don’t want her fixing my dinner.”
Dean chuckled. “Then let us fix dinner on Maisie’s behalf.”
“And just who would ‘us’ be?”
“Gary and me.”
“Are you in the habit of volunteering him when he’s not around to refuse?”
“You know your cousin. That’s the best time to do it,” Dean said with a grin. “And don’t feel too sorry for him. He’d do the same to me in a heartbeat.”
Annie laughed and glanced upstream again. “Knowing Gary, I’m sure you’re right. But there’s one tiny problem with your plan. I’m not sure Gary even knows how to boil water.”
“He doesn’t, but as luck would have it, we don’t need boiled water to cook trout.”
Annie finally seemed to realize that he was serious. “You really want me to let you and Gary fix dinner?”
Dean pulled back and raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness. “I’m not sure I like your attitude, Ms. Holladay. Are you implying that you’re the only person at the Eagle’s Nest who can cook?”
Annie’s expression sobered but her eyes danced with mirth. “Absolutely not. I’m well aware that Irma does a wonderful job in the kitchen.”
“Now you’re starting to sound sexist,” Dean warned.
“My doubts have nothing to do with gender,” Annie said with a lift of her chin. “Some of the best chefs in the world are men. I just don’t happen to think you and Gary fall into that category, that’s all. And there’s no guarantee Gary will come back with any trout, so it might be a moot point.”
Dean waved away her argument. “Unless the creek’s dried up, Gary’ll bring fish back with him. Don’t worry about that.”
“Well, then, far be it from me to put a damper on the fun.” Annie rubbed her legs and grimaced once more. “I’d love to have the evening off.”
Another burst of laughter from midstream caught Dean’s attention just as Tyler lost his footing and fell into the shallow current. His hand shot out toward Nessa’s ankle, but she sidestepped him easily and headed for shore. Laughing, Tyler scrambled to his feet and started after her. He came ashore a few feet away and dropped onto the rock Nessa had chosen to dry off, stretching out beside her, young, innocent and completely relaxed.
Things had been better between Dean and Tyler since that day in town, but the fear of doing something wrong and ruining everything had kept Dean from moving in too close. There must have been something in the air today because Dean couldn’t resist the impulse to call out. “I told Annie that Gary and I would cook dinner tonight, but she seems to think we’re going to botch the job. What do you say, Tyler? You want to help us prove her wrong?”
Tyler glanced up, his face a mix of emotions while he considered the offer. “What are you fixing?”
“Trout and whatever sounds good to go with it. Do you know anything about cooking?”
Tyler sat up and shielded his eyes against the sun. “Who do you think does all the cooking at my house?”
Dean hated hearing that, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. If Carol was drinking again she probably didn’t think about food much. He forced himself to keep smiling. “Then are you in?”
Tyler nodded slowly, glanced at Nessa for her opinion, and finally managed a half smile. “Sure. I guess. Why not?”
Dean grinned and leaned against the boulder at his back. And this time when that sense of family and connection ran over him, he made no effort to fight it.
DEAN WAS AS GOOD AS his word—or Gary was. He came back with a full string of rainbow trout so fresh Annie itched to get her hands on them. She could have made a basic trout amandine, or broiled the fish and served them with stuffing made from pine nuts, jalapeños, and garlic.
Her mouth watered at the thought of fish served with lemon and capers, and if she’d had cedar planks available, she might have cooked the fish over a fire and served them with avocado-tomato salsa.
Endless possibilities danced through her mind on the ride home, but both Dean and Gary acted insulted by her friendly offers of help, so she had to content herself with teaching Tyler how to create a homemade version of the boxed rice pilaf he was used to making.
She could have taken advantage of the time to spend alone with Nessa, but neither of them was willing to leave the kitchen and miss the fun. Laughter echoed off the walls as Dean and Gary argued good-naturedly over the proper method for cleaning the fish and removing the bones, then launched into a joint—and vehement—tirade about the importance of using real butter instead of margarine, as if they thought Annie might even consider using the latter on fresh trout.
Even Tyler relaxed and joined in the fun, and the joy on Dean’s face nearly brought tears to Annie’s eyes. She wondered once or twice whether or not she should try to get Nessa alone, but, frankly, it had been a long time since they’d laughed so hard together and even longer since Nessa had seen two cooks laughing together in a kitchen. The evening reminded Annie how important laughter in a relationship had once seemed to her, and she hated realizing how long it had been since she and Spence had laughed together over anything.
So in the end, she stayed in the kitchen and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks, and she enjoyed the meal more than anything she’d eaten in years—even though the trout was a little overcooked, and the rice clumped together in the bowl, and the green beans Gary dug out of the freezer and threw into a pan at the last minute had a touch more crunch than Annie usually liked.
And as she climbed the stairs at the end of the day, she realized that there were times when perfection was highly overrated.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FUELED BY THE GREAT EVENING he’d shared with family and friends, Dean slipped into his office the next morning as soon as he had finished breakfast and dialed Carol’s number. The phone rang about six times, then someone dragged the receiver off the hook and dropped it to the floor. Dean could hear the muffled sound of a man’s voice swearing filled the connection and then, finally, “Yeah?”
The man sounded either drunk or high, and everything inside Dean went cold. “Is this Randy?”
“Sorry. Don’t know anybody by that name.”
Had Carol already taken up with someone new? Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to speak again. “Is Carol there?”
“Carol?” A long pause followed while the man covered the mouthpiece with one hand. Even so, Dean could hear a woman’s voice in the background. “Carol’s not here right now,” the man said when he came back on the line. “What do you want her for?”
Dean ignored the question. “Where is she?”
“Gone. Out.”
Dean checked his watch instinctively. It was only six-thirty in California. A little early for cocktail hour. He leaned forward in his chair and toyed nervously with a pen he’d left in the middle of his desk. “Who is this?”
“A f
riend of the family. Why?”
“Because I want to speak with either Carol or Randy. I don’t care which.”
“You a bill collector or something?”
“No, I’m Carol’s brother. I need to talk with her about her son.”
The man laughed and the tone of his voice changed abruptly. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place? You’re calling about Tyler? How is the little sumbitch, anyway?”
Dean’s grip on the receiver tightened. “Tyler’s fine. Who are you?”
“Okay, so I lied before about not being me. But hell, man, I didn’t know who you were.” Randy belched under his breath and Dean would have sworn he could smell the alcohol coming out his end of the connection. “You could’ve been one of my old lady’s friends for all I know.”
Dean’s hand stilled on the pen and he closed his eyes briefly. “You’re married?”
“Naw, but my wife is.” Randy snorted a laugh and spent a few seconds indulging in mirth. “Seriously, man, I’m separated. And soon as the divorce is final, you and me’ll be brothers, so I guess it’s about time we met, isn’t it?”
Dean rubbed his forehead and felt as if someone had turned the clock back. Only this time, he couldn’t deny that Carol’s lousy choices were affecting someone besides herself. “Is Carol there with you?”
“Sure.” Randy’s voice faded and Dean figured he’d tried to hand Carol the receiver. He heard a bit of frantic whispering, a hand covered the mouthpiece again, and Carol came on the line with an uneasy laugh.
“Dean? Whatsup?”
It was on the tip of Dean’s tongue to say something about her drinking, but he choked the words back. Tyler’s future was his only concern this morning, and alienating Carol wasn’t smart. “It’s been a few weeks since I talked to you. I’ve been wondering how you’re doing.”
Carol let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re checking up on me, aren’t you?”
“Actually, no, I’m not. I’m calling about Tyler.”
