by Caro Carson
“A rodeo star?” Natalie was clearly dying for more details.
Maggie felt badly for Kristen, who was slowly shredding her napkin.
“I thought a cowboy would be different. He’d love his family more than anything else, and be loyal to his lady. He seemed to be a real gentleman, too.”
Natalie frowned. “Yeah, but a rodeo star is a different kind of cowboy.”
“He made it sound like this was his final season, because he was looking to settle down here in Rust Creek Falls. I’m such a sucker.”
Kayla gave her twin a squeeze. “I would have fallen for the man, too. The stories he told you were so poignant, who wouldn’t have?”
Maggie smiled to herself at the sister’s show of loyalty. Shane and Ryan had always been loyal to her like that, too.
“He fed you more lies?” Natalie shook her head. “Men are pigs.”
Maggie tried to temper that kind of blanket statement. It went against her mind-set as an attorney to accept a stereotype as a legitimate argument. “Let’s just say if a man acts like a pig, there’s almost never a justification. Kristen had it right. They’re never protecting a secret orphanage in real life.”
“Thanks, guys.” Kristen kept tearing the napkin into pieces and crumpling the strips in her palm. “The thing is, I still don’t think he lied. If he’d bragged that he owned a fancy sports car, that would be one thing, but what would be the point in telling me he was adopted? He remembered his first mother. She left him when he was three. Just walked away and left him.”
That got Maggie’s attention. One of her adopted brothers had been abandoned when he was three. What a strange coincidence for this rodeo rider to have been left like that, too.
“I’m sure he made it up to get pity points. What a scum bucket.” Natalie gave Kristen a friendly bump, hip to hip. “Did he at least have washboard abs?”
Kristen laughed a little as she dabbed her nose with the crumbled napkin. “He did. I mean, I didn’t take his shirt off, but he was rock hard when I hugged him.”
This elicited some snickering from Natalie.
“He was a good dancer. Tall. Handsome. Nice voice, nice manners.” The hint of a smile lit Kristen’s face as she remembered the better traits of her rodeo star. The poor girl was still carrying a torch for this guy. Maggie was glad she had lots of support from a loving sister and from Natalie, too.
Maggie started looking around the gym for her husband, getting ready to graciously bow out of this circle now that the tears were under control. Natalie was settling in for the juicy details, and although Maggie was only a few years older than they were, she was starting to feel like the odd man out as an old married woman. These three were all single and had gone to school together.
Maggie craned her neck a bit, trying to spot her husband. Married women had benefits, and hers was Jesse Crawford.
“Where did you meet him?” Natalie asked. “Is he famous? Would I recognize his name?”
“I don’t think so. It’s Ryan Michaels. I met him here in town on the Fourth of July.”
“The ‘power of the punch,’ eh?”
Maggie snapped her attention back to Kristen. Her brother was Roarke, not Michaels, but he’d been here for the Fourth of July. A man named Ryan, in town for the Fourth of July, who’d been abandoned at age three? It couldn’t be.
“I don’t know about the punch. I wish I had an excuse for being so gullible a second time.” Kristen’s hands doubled into fists. “I believed everything he said. He just about broke my heart with his story. He painted this whole picture about how she left him standing on the steps to a church—just terrible. It’s over the top, right? I should have seen that, right? At the time, I felt so special that he was telling me something so personal, but it was just a line to make women want to comfort him. It worked.”
Dear God, church steps. She was talking about Ryan. Her brother Ryan had broken this sweet girl’s heart.
Frantically, Maggie thought back to the Fourth of July. They’d all gone to the wedding together, but Madeline had only been about ten weeks old, and she and Jesse had taken the baby home to nap. They’d all fallen asleep. Later, it had seemed like too much trouble to cart the stroller and diaper bag and the rest back to the park. She’d assumed Ryan had renewed an acquaintance from the flood recovery days, but he must have struck up a flirtation with Kristen. It all made sense, except why on earth had he told this poor girl he was in the rodeo? It was flabbergasting.
Maggie felt physically sick. Ryan had always been a lady-killer, but this wasn’t LA, and Kristen wasn’t a starlet. How could he? But he had, he clearly had, and now Kristen’s spurt of anger was over and tears were welling up in her eyes again.
“The thing is, and please don’t think I’m crazy or a complete idiot for thinking this, but the thing is, what if his story was real? He probably has a hard time trusting anyone. Maybe he does want to be with me, but his childhood affected him so that he doesn’t believe a woman would love him. Or…oh, I don’t know. What if he was injured, and he’s been in a hospital this whole time? What do you think?”
I think I’m going to kill my brother.
But first, she needed to give Kristen some immediate advice. “Here’s what I think you should do. You should get back in line and buy yourself a serious amount of chocolate, and you should avoid sad movies for a while. The next movie will be all car explosions and no plot. It’s perfect.” Impulsively, Maggie gave Kristen a hug and whispered in her ear. “Try not to drive yourself crazy with questions that have no answer.”
Maggie left to find her husband. She had the rest of date night to salvage. First thing tomorrow morning, she would give Ryan a piece of her mind. Poor Kristen might not be able to get any answers, but Maggie would.
* * *
“Get your butt up here. Now. This minute.”
“Good morning to you, too, Maggie. Nice of you to call.”
Ryan clamped his phone between his shoulder and ear and hoisted his suitcase into the overhead bin. The noise of a couple of hundred people boarding the airplane gave him a certain amount of privacy to talk with Maggie before takeoff. She’d probably hear the background noise and guess where he was, but in the meantime, he could have some fun with her.
“Why would I come see you? Isn’t it snowing there? Not to rub it in, but I was golfing with Dad this week. Scratch that. I am definitely rubbing it in.”
Ryan took his first-class seat and waved away the flight attendant’s offer of a drink. Strangers with backpacks and luggage and kids continued to file past.
“I’m not joking around, Ryan. You have to come up here.”
Her tone of voice alarmed him. Ryan tuned out everything but his sister. “What’s wrong? Are you at the hospital? Jesse or Madeline sick?”
“You’re the sick one. You broke a girl’s heart last time you were in Rust Creek Falls, you jerk.”
He nearly dropped the phone.
“I was at the movies last night, talking to Kristen Dalton at the concession stand.”
The name exploded in his brain. He hadn’t heard anyone say her name, not once in all these months. She’d been only his own silent wish, his own secret memory. Hearing his sister speak about her was jarring, a sudden reminder that Kristen wasn’t his private fantasy. She was a real woman with friends and family. A woman who lived a normal life and went to movies.
“She was in tears. The movie was sad, and it made her cry, and do you know why? Because you’re extra sensitive when your heart’s been broken. Kristen Dalton! Oh, Ryan, how could you?”
Kristen crying, brokenhearted—Ryan’s own heart stopped beating for a moment. He tightened his grip on the phone.
“She asked you about me?”
“No, she didn’t ask me about you. What kind of vain question is that?”
It
hadn’t been vain. It had been hopeful. He was on this plane because he’d needed to see for himself that Kristen was okay. That she’d moved on. That she was fine without him. Closure. He was having too hard of a time in California without it.
But now…
Ryan covered one ear and turned away from the aisle to better hear his sister. This flight connected to Kalispell through Las Vegas, and the passengers who boarded were boisterous, ready for vacation. Ryan concentrated to hear everything his sister said. Every word was crucial.
“If she didn’t ask you about me, then how do you know I’m the reason she’s heartbroken?” It was far more likely that she’d been dating someone else this fall. Just because Ryan couldn’t stand the idea didn’t mean it wasn’t probable.
“Because I’m standing in line for some Twizzlers and Sno-Caps, and this really pretty woman starts pouring her heart out about a man who was adopted at age three. He’s left her behind without a backward glance, that much is obvious to anyone who’s listening, but she can’t see that, because she’s crazy about him. She’s clinging to this idea that he’s just afraid to believe in love after the way his mother abandoned him on church steps. And this paragon of a man that she’s still hoping will come back is named Ryan.”
A man that she’s still hoping will come back.
The entire purpose of the flight changed in an instant. There was nothing of brotherly concern in his attitude toward Kristen. Screw closure. He wanted Kristen as he’d wanted her from the first: in his arms for a dance and a kiss. By his side for a laugh during a meal. He wanted her in his bed, and yes, he wanted to trust her with his heart.
If she wanted his heart. It had seemed unlikely after all these months, but suddenly, with his sister’s words, everything he wanted and needed was possible. Everything could be his, if Kristen still wanted him. They could work out all the rest, somehow.
“You can’t leave a girl hanging with her heart on her sleeve like that. She’s really crazy about you, you moron. If you think you’ll find a better woman down there in LA, you’re wrong, but you at least owe it to Kristen to end things cleanly so she can move on.”
“I don’t want to end things.”
“Well, you have to. It’s just cruel, letting her carry a torch for you.”
Hope was a painful emotion, forcing its way into a heart that hadn’t allowed any room for it.
Maggie misinterpreted his silence. Of course, she only saw him as her brother, the player. It wouldn’t occur to her that he’d been serious about Kristen. “I mean it, Ryan. If you don’t get up here, I’ll—I’ll—I’ll tell Mom.”
Her threat cut the tension, and amazingly, Ryan found he could laugh despite the painful hope in his chest. “Don’t do anything so drastic. I’m already on my way.”
“Good. When you book your flight, let me know, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
“I said I’m already on my way. Listen.” He held the phone away from his ear as the flight attendant repeated the announcement, which everyone ignored, about stepping out of the aisle to let others pass during boarding.
“Wait a minute. You’d already decided to come up here? Did Jesse call you last night?”
“I’d already decided last week to see Kristen. I told you I didn’t want to end things, but you were too busy chewing me out to hear that.”
“Wow. That’s… I should get the guest room ready.” She sounded a little faint.
“I’m staying at Maverick Manor. Between you, Jesse and the baby, that’s three chaperones I don’t need while I’m trying to woo a woman.”
“Woo her? Not break up with her? Ryan, you can’t do this. You can’t keep letting her think you’re some kind of rodeo star. The fake name, the whole cowboy masquerade—I just can’t be a party to that. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know you.”
The flight attendant stopped directly by his seat and spoke loudly. “Excuse me, sir, but you’re going to have to turn off your phone now.”
“What are you talking about, Maggie?”
“Sir, I must insist. The doors have been closed.”
“Sounds like you have to go,” Maggie said. “I’ll talk to you when you get here.”
“What masquerade, damn it?”
“Sir.”
“Kristen Dalton isn’t in love with you. She’s in love with a cowboy named Ryan Michaels. Hang up before you get kicked off that plane.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
After ten agonizing hours of travel, Ryan hung up once more after talking to his sister. Numb, he sank onto the foot of the oversize bed in his room at Maverick Manor.
He hadn’t done it on purpose. He’d worn cowboy boots and two-stepped to a country-western band, but he’d never said he was a cowboy. He hadn’t specifically said he was an attorney from LA, either, but he’d never once talked about rodeos.
When he’d been standing by those church steps with Kristen, he’d accidentally let slip the name that he’d gone by as a preschooler. She’d apparently assumed he was still Michaels. That meant Kristen didn’t know he was related to the Maggie Roarke Crawford who worked with her own uncle. She didn’t know he was related to celebrity chef Shane Roarke. And she most certainly didn’t know he, Ryan, defended contracts for movie studios and recording artists.
He’d wanted it that way. When they’d first met, he’d only said he was Ryan, not Ryan Roarke. He’d wanted to feel what it would be like to be a local.
The locals around here are all cowboys.
Maybe he should have foreseen that, but the locals weren’t rodeo stars, damn it. He’d never been to a rodeo in his life. She’d been born and raised on a ranch. How had he fooled her so completely?
Ryan fell back onto the quilt-topped mattress.
He’d just have to level with her immediately. Like ripping off a bandage, he’d have to confess his missteps and mistakes. When he told Kristen that her humble cowboy who’d been considering a move to Rust Creek Falls was actually a high-powered Hollywood attorney who specialized in the entertainment industry, would she still want him?
He stared at the ceiling until the knots of the pine slats blurred into nothing. In their place, he saw the hem of a woman’s dress, swishing with every step as she walked away.
* * *
The need to rip off a bandage was not a great motivator.
Although Ryan had spent a week rearranging his whole schedule specifically to see Kristen, he found himself stalling now that he was in Rust Creek Falls. He was dying to look into those blue eyes again, to feel her soft palm against his jaw, to run his hand down her soft hair. But first, he had to tell her that everything she thought she knew about him was wrong. She was going to be devastated. His first sight of her could be his last.
And so, after a restless night at the hotel, he spent Sunday morning doing everything except what he’d come to town to do. Instead of asking for directions to the Dalton family ranch, he located Brad Crawford and got his signature on that final piece of paperwork. Instead of knocking on Kristen’s door, he stopped by Maggie’s house to see the baby, who’d grown so much in four months it was astonishing.
He couldn’t avoid the inevitable, but he told himself it was smart to delay it. This mistaken identity had caught him completely by surprise just twenty-four hours ago. He knew how to win a debate and he knew how to persuade a jury. Both of those things required careful preparation, and Ryan was not prepared to rip off any bandages without a plan. He needed time to think, and he needed to avoid Kristen until he was ready.
The hotel was too small for his restless pacing. He considered walking the perimeter of the park while he thought of the right words to say, but Maggie and her family were headed there. She’d become a true Montanan who thought forty degrees was perfectly balmy weather for a Sunday stroll. The park wouldn’t provide any solitude.
He got into the truck he’d rented and drove out of town. The highway led straight to Kalispell, right through the heart of town. Main Street was flanked by the same type of sturdy brick buildings that lined the streets of Rust Creek Falls. There, away from the Crawfords and Daltons, he parked his truck, got out and started walking.
* * *
“Let’s try it again from the top of the scene. Old Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past, I want you two to stand a little closer upstage.” The assistant director looked over his shoulder toward the back of the theater. “Can we keep the spotlight on Old Scrooge if he moves upstage? Yes? Good.”
Kristen stood motionless at center stage. This rehearsal was primarily meant to refine the blocking, deciding where every actor would move during the scene. The lighting director, the stage crew and the prop master needed to know where the actors delivered every line. It was tedious work, but part of being an actress was being patient.
Kristen hated blocking days. She got through them by using them as an acting exercise, in which she had to play the role of Patient Actress. Since Patient Actress would not tap her booted foot impatiently, Kristen stopped. She stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. They didn’t wear costumes for most rehearsals, but Kristen wore a bright blue sweater with her jeans and boots, because her costume was a striking blue gown. She had her hair up in a messy bun to simulate the Victorian style she’d wear during performances. Her hair affected what angle she held her head, even which shadows the different stage lights cast on her face, so it was necessary.
