by BJ Wane
His heavy sigh came through the phone loud and clear. “I thought you had hired hands for that.”
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t pull my weight and take care of my own horse myself.”
“Look, I know you feel bad about your dad’s passing, but that doesn’t mean you have to bury yourself out in the boonies. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn’t answer.”
The slight admonishment in his tone grated on her nerves, as did his refusal to understand she wanted to be here, but she forced herself to remember she had wronged him by letting their relationship get as far as it did when she had known her heart wasn’t in the right place to make such a commitment. “Sorry. I went riding and didn’t take my phone.” Which hadn’t been by mistake.
“That was irresponsible,” he chided. “See, there’s another example of why you need me. What if you had fallen and gotten hurt?”
Tamara laughed. “I haven’t toppled off a horse in ages. Besides, I’ve told you, this is a working ranch. There are hands around if someone finds themselves in need of help. I’m tired, Jeremy, and need to get up early.”
“I just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow. Besides, we spent over a year not going to sleep without telling each other good night.”
“But we’re not a couple any longer,” she reminded him as gently as she could while grinding her teeth together.
“We will be as soon as you get over whatever’s bothering you. You need to tell me so we can at least begin hashing this out,” he insisted for about the hundredth time since she’d broken off their engagement.
Tamara hated to do it but saw no other choice. She needed to get firm and end this once and for all, even if it meant hurting a good, decent man whose only fault was falling in love with a woman who couldn’t love him back the way he deserved.
“Enough, Jeremy. I’m sorry, but I don’t love you, maybe I never did. And that’s not something you can change, or we can work out. Please, don’t contact me again. Goodbye.” She hung up with a heavy heart, sadness pulling her down as she crawled into bed. Jeremy had been nothing but good to her and knowing the pain of unrequited feelings made her feel that much worse over the way she had treated him.
She fell asleep remembering the afternoon she met her father’s neighbor and how her tender young heart had fallen for a shining knight sitting astride a huge horse with the confidence born of experience and age rushing to her rescue. Little had she known then that one look into those cobalt eyes would seal her fate for years to come.
Tamara broke away from her new classmates to stand in line with much younger kids at the horse-riding ring, her heart beating faster with every step that brought her closer to her turn. She had only been living with the father she’d never met before for a few weeks after her mother had abandoned her in favor of taking off with her current boyfriend. Fear of being tossed aside again had been her constant companion, making her desperate to not only fit in at school, but to make Richard Barton and his wife proud enough to want to keep her. Admitting the couple had been nothing but kind and welcoming wasn’t enough to ease her insecurity.
The county fair the school had bussed them to for a day of fun to end the school year with was a new experience for her and she’d been enjoying the games and rides and the way her friends didn’t hesitate to include her. But when she spotted the horseback riding, she saw an opportunity she couldn’t resist. Everyone on the ranch could ride horses and all of her new friends boasted about riding. Here was a chance to accomplish a feat sure to impress and please her father and give her something in common with the other kids.
Her determination didn’t keep her from shaking as she watched the large animals trotting around the ring, the young riders bouncing on their backs. Her father had showed her around his ranch when she’d first arrived, warning her to stay clear of the horse’s hooves. But there was so much more to scare her than those heavy hooves. Having never even owned a dog, she found herself both fascinated and frightened by the horse’s beauty and size.
I can do this, Tamara told herself as one of the teenagers helping out opened the gate for her to enter. Keeping her eyes glued to the silky brown coat covering the bunching muscles of the next horse being led up to mount, she struggled to swallow past her dry throat.
“Are you ready, kid?” The tall girl bent and cupped her hands, waiting to boost her up, way up into the saddle. When Tamara hesitated, she cocked her head, asking, “What’s wrong? Haven’t you ridden before?” Disbelief underscored her words, as if it was unheard of to have reached the age of ten and finished the fifth grade in Willow Springs, Montana without knowing how to ride.
Squaring her small shoulders, Tamara ignored the blush stealing over her face, keeping her eyes averted from the much younger kids already mounted and laughing in enjoyment. Shoring up her resolve to fit in as fast as possible so she could stay, she kept quiet and put her foot in the older girl’s hands. “Grab the pommel, kid,” she snapped when Tamara gasped as she found herself hoisted up in the air and then leaning against the heaving side of the animal. She didn’t know what a pommel was but latched onto a protrusion on the front of the creaking saddle and pulled herself up. “There you go. You’re new around here, aren’t you? Maybe I should walk you around for a bit first,” the teen offered as Tamara swayed and squeezed her eyes shut.
Opening them again, she looked straight ahead instead of down and shook her head, determined to accomplish this feat on her own. “I… I’m good.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. Just follow the horse in front of you three times around.”
With a white-knuckled grip on the reins, Tamara sucked in a deep breath as the horse fell in line behind the one in front of them. She scanned the park, amazed at how far she could see from her high perch. The slow pace soon lulled her into relaxing and becoming accustomed to the strange feel of the animal moving under her. After one loop, she forgot the mortification of being five years older than any other kid in the ring and got brave enough to reach a trembling hand out to touch the soft mane hanging down the horse’s neck.
The sudden shift of its head and quick prance of its feet caught her off guard and with only one hand on the reins, she couldn’t stop from sliding sideways. Before she could catch enough breath to cry out, a hard arm swooped around her waist and righted her in the saddle, a deep voice reaching past the roaring in her head.
“There you go, sweetie. You’re okay.” The owner of that soothing voice tightened his arm as she grasped the reins with both hands again.
With nausea churning in her quivering stomach, she looked over and up into a tanned face shadowed by a lowered cowboy hat. Tamara watched, mesmerized as the older boy nudged his hat back, revealing eyes the color of the cloudless sky. Her racing heart slowed and then went pitter patter until he removed his arm.
With a nod and small curl of his lips, he nudged both horses into a slow walk, staying alongside her as he said, “Deep breath. You’ll get the hang of it. Move your body with the horse, yes, like that. These fillies are sweet and mellow, just the right temperament for newbie riders. Are you visiting someone in the area?”
Was it any wonder she remained overly conscious of her status as the new kid? Everyone seemed to know everyone else in this small town, something she wasn’t familiar with having grown up with a mother who moved from one big city to another every year or two. She shook her head, her hackles up as she replied in a defensive tone, “No, I live on the Barton Ranch.”
His small grin spread to a smile and her heart executed a funny roll. “You’re old man Barton’s daughter. I’m Connor Dunbar. We’re neighbors. Once you get your bearings, you can ride over to our place for a visit, and from the looks of you now, that won’t take long. What’s your name?”
“Tamara.”
“Well, Tam, you’ve got a good seat, you just need confidence and practice.”
Pleased, liking the way he shortened her name, she realized they’d finished the second loop without her panicking again.
Something about the way Connor looked at her, as if she was special, warmed her where she’d been so cold since her mother’s desertion. Not that her father had been unkind, just the opposite in fact. Both he and Amy seemed pleased to have her around. But she’d grown up knowing nothing was permanent, which had kept her from believing this time would be different.
“Thank you,” she said as another older teen called to him.
With a wave, he turned his horse with an expertise she envied, flashing another devastating smile that disrupted her young heart. “Catch you later, neighbor.”
Tamara watched him trot off, vowing to master riding as fast as possible because now she had two people she yearned to make proud of her.
Tamara awoke disgruntled at having her sleep disturbed by a reoccurrence of that memory, one she should have gotten over long ago. She’d been so young and scared when she had first come to Willow Springs, not to mention impressionable. That hadn’t been the only time Connor had come to her rescue, and she had been unprepared for the impact his chivalry would leave on her broken, tender heart.
With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and dressed for her first day at the clinic. With any luck, the two doctors who ran the only medical facility in town would have a slew of patients in need of physical therapy to take her mind off a certain cowboy she’d tried and failed to forget during her time away. She made the twenty-minute drive into Willow Springs with tired, gritty eyes and a determination to move forward with her life without looking back. If she’d learned one thing from her relationship with Jeremy, it was not to settle. She had returned home to find the happiness that had eluded her in the years away, and if that meant waiting, taking her time to search not only for what she needed to attain that goal, but to get it from the right person, then so be it.
She hit the city limits and waved to a few early morning pedestrians as she drove past the small hubbub of the town square on her way to the clinic. Nothing much had changed since she’d left town. The hangouts where she’d spent so much time as a teenager were still as popular now, and other than a few new businesses, Willow Springs hadn’t grown much. She wished she had put out more effort to see her friends during her many return trips home. Other than to visit with Nan at her teashop and go into Billings with her for a day of shopping and lunch, she hadn’t visited other friends and acquaintances she’d known for years. Nan had laid into her the other day when Tamara stopped by her teashop for the first time since moving back. After her usual lecture for going away in the first place, she’d brought tears to Tamara’s eyes with a crushing hug and heartfelt, “Damn, I’m glad you’re back for good” whisper.
Connor Dunbar’s painful rebuke the day she’d ridden to his place to talk to him about the job offer in Boise and instead ended up spying on him and some girl going at it in his barn had sent her running so fast, Tamara hadn’t stopped long enough to tell anyone except her father and Amy she’d decided to take the job. The only thing that had kept her from accepting it had been the thought of moving away from Connor, but after he’d laid into her and made his feelings crystal clear, she no longer had that excuse to stay around here. She had been so hurt, jealous and confused by her reaction when she’d stumbled upon that unexpected scene, she’d kept everything about that encounter to herself. Even though she suspected Amy might have an inkling her taking off that way had something to do with Tamara’s unrequited infatuation with Connor, neither of them had brought it up yet.
As Tamara parked and strolled into the back entrance of the clinic where the physical therapy room was located, she tried shoving aside intruding memories best left in the past, but when had she ever succeeded with putting her feelings for Connor on the back burner? She’d applied for the new physical therapist position online, interviewed for it over the phone and accepted the job via e-mail. Other than visiting with Nan at her tea shop on Friday, today was the first day since moving back two weeks ago that she would get reacquainted with a few more people. That prospect lightened her step.
The morning staff meeting went longer than she planned for and after thanking everyone for their warm welcome she dashed back down the hall to the physical therapy room. Furnished with two raised mats, a set of parallel bars, pulleys along one wall to go along with the various exercise equipment hanging up and a small desk in the far corner, it appeared to have everything she needed. The space wasn’t big or fancy, but it was all hers and would work well. Padding over to her desk, she planned to check the scheduled appointments for the day but the bell above the door pealed as someone entered, diverting her attention.
Tamara pivoted, her eyes widening as none other than the object of her obsession for the last twenty years entered with a loose-limbed stride that never failed to draw women’s attention, including her own. Connor Dunbar looked the same at thirty-eight as he had five years ago; ruggedly handsome with sun-streaked, dark brown hair worn long enough to pull back in a short ponytail, his jaw covered with scruffy whiskers a shade darker than his hair that was sexy as hell.
“Tam?” Surprise colored his voice as those incredible eyes landed on her frozen stance.
The slow stretch of his chiseled lips hit her with a gut-wrenching sucker punch as warmth encircled her heart. No, no, no, she lamented, resisting the urge to turn and bang her head against the wall. That reaction would not do. She’d stayed away so long to get over him, praying with endless regularity for a much less potent response when seeing him again. Disappointment swamped her upon learning those pleas had gone unanswered. Given she’d returned to put this ridiculous, one-sided infatuation to bed once and for all, her response didn’t bode well for achieving that goal anytime soon. I can do this, remain professional and do my job, she lectured herself. Easy. Piece of cake. And then a blue flame of pleasure lit up his eyes as he strode toward her, shredding her resolve in less time than it took to come up with it.
“I heard you were back, maybe for good.” Gripping her shoulders with his large, calloused hands, he pulled her close for a bear hug she knew meant nothing more than an old friend greeting another. “It’s damn good to see you, sweetie.”
Tamara stiffened, the endearment a reminder he would never consider her anything more than a friend. Pulling back from the comfort of his muscled body, she cast a quick glance down at the list of appointments and saw what she hadn’t had time to check. He was her first patient. Dismay changed to sudden concern, overruling her silent objection as the meaning of that sunk in.
“What happened? Were you injured?”
Connor looked puzzled and then his face cleared with a rueful twist of his lips. Rotating his left shoulder, he nodded to the computer. “It’s in my file, I’m sure. Gunshot wound several weeks back, followed by surgery to repair some damaged tendons. I believe it’s your job to help me gain as much strength back as possible.”
Shot? Tamara pulled back from the urge to sink onto the desk chair before her wobbly legs took the choice from her. Instead, locking her knees, she reminded herself of her job. Given her reaction to seeing him again was as strong as always, she wasn’t happy about having to put her hands on him or with being subjected to his close presence for a few weeks. It is what it is, so get over it already. She’d been repeating that phrase for a long time and it looked like she would continue to do so.
Chapter 3
She hasn’t changed. The relief Connor experienced at that thought went along with the familiar rush gazing at Tamara Barton always gave him. He’d never been able to pinpoint what it was about the neighbor kid that made him want to smile and pulled on his protective instincts every time he saw her. He’d found himself drawn to the determination tightening her small, pale face the first time he’d laid eyes on her at the county fair. That same tug had yanked at him when he’d seen her pale, tear ravaged face at her father’s funeral last year, leaving him frustrated when she’d turned away from him after his brief condolences. Now, the surprised pleasure that had shone in her gray eyes before switching to concern put him in a much better mo
od than when he’d arrived at the clinic cursing the necessity for therapy to his injured rotator cuff.
“You can fill me in after I look at your chart,” she said now, the worry and censure in her tone tickling him.
“I can, can I?” he drawled. “You always did fret like a mother hen.” For some reason that didn’t bug him as much as when his well-meaning friends and soon-to-be sister-in-law did the same thing.
“Because you’ve always been reckless to the point of careless. Oh.” Tam’s eyes clouded as she scanned through his chart. Shaking her head, she sent him a familiar rueful glance that tightened his abdomen. “Chasing after rustlers by yourself? You’re lucky you didn’t end up with a lot worse.”
He knew that and was tired of the reminders. “I wasn’t about to just let them drive off. You should be more thankful. I believe they’ve hit your ranch, as well as ours and a few others.”
“I could never be grateful for you putting yourself in harm’s way, Connor.”
And there it was, that light in her eyes as she gazed at him that set off alarm bells. What was it about that soft look that both stirred Connor and made him itch to run away? He’d had countless women look at him with lust and a handful with a hint of stronger feelings than he cared for, including Annie. Some of them he had enjoyed before sending them on their way. The others he’d let down as gently as possible before breaking it off or refused to let things get to the intimate stage. With Tam, he’d done neither and never could come up with a reason why.
Removing his Stetson, he shrugged off her concern and set it on the desk. “It wasn’t a big deal. A little residual weakness is all that’s left of the encounter, which is why I’m here, putting myself at your mercy,” he teased.
“You are never at anyone’s mercy,” she countered with the ease of someone who knew him well. “Sit on the mat and let me check your range of motion to start. How much pain are you in?”
