“Oh, no,” Bethany whispered.
“Yeah.” Ryan swallowed. “Only a couple of miles farther down the highway, she lost control in a curve, and the station wagon went over an embankment. She and both kids were killed instantly.” He rubbed a hand over his face and blinked. “Rafe—he went berserk, trying to revive them. Afterward, he wasn’t the same. It damned near killed him. One day he just up and left without a word. Vanished for over two years.”
Bethany stared up at him, her eyes huge and stricken.
“Anyway …” Ryan shrugged. “I didn’t shoot Flash Dancer or sell him, and the story has a happy ending. Rafe met his second wife Maggie, it was love at first sight, and they’ve been together ever since, happy as clams.” He forced a smile. “I know all about how people can react irrationally when their loved ones get hurt. In Rafe’s case, I think it was easier for him to blame the poor horse than to blame himself, which was essentially how he felt, anyway—that it was all his fault.”
“Maybe so. Daddy always fretted about me, worrying I might get hurt. Maybe he blamed himself for allowing me to compete. He still goes white around the lips at any mention of Wink.”
“That isn’t why he got rid of his ranch, is it? To keep you away from horses?” Ryan had heard Harv had gone bankrupt, but gossip was often wrong.
“Oh, no … he didn’t get rid of the ranch by choice.” A distant expression entered her eyes. “Although I’m sure keeping me away from horses was probably his reason for never buying another spread.”
Rosebud nudged Bethany’s shoulder, then lowered her head for a scratch. Bethany absentmindedly obliged, then finger combed the mare’s mane.
“It’s just as well since I can no longer ride. Horses used to be such a big part of my life. It was very difficult for me to adjust to the loss at first.”
“You say he didn’t give the ranch up by choice? What happened?”
“Medical bills.” She shrugged. “At first, every doctor who examined me felt sure surgery might get me back on my feet. I was a three-time loser.”
Ryan’s heart caught at the pain he saw flicker across her face, whether for herself or her parents, he wasn’t sure. Until she said, “Poor Daddy. He couldn’t let it go, and he went broke, trying to work a miracle for me. A fourth-generation rancher, and he lost his family heritage.”
“Some things are more important than keeping a piece of land.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “But we also need to be realistic.” Her eyes clouded. “After the first operation, I knew in my heart that I might never walk again. I should have told Daddy and refused to have more surgery. But I was self-centered for a long time after the accident, blind to everything but my own misery. I wanted so badly to walk again, and it never occurred to me that my father was destroying himself trying to make it happen.”
“You were awfully young, Bethany. I wouldn’t be too rough on myself.”
She smiled and threw off the gloom. “How did we get off on this? Boring. I don’t like to think about those days, let alone talk about them.”
That she didn’t wish to dwell on it told Ryan more than she could know. Some people talked about their misfortunes to the exclusion of all else.
She cast a wondering glance around her. “This is quite some stable. All spiffy and clean and huge.”
He followed her gaze. “My house is another story.”
“A typical bachelor, are you?”
“Not really. Becca, the family housekeeper, comes over with a crew three times a week and supervises while they muck out the rooms. The buildup doesn’t get too bad. It’s more that I’m such a slob on the days in between. Dirty dishes, socks hanging off the lamp shades. I’m pretty bad.”
“It must be nice to be so prosperous that you can afford housekeepers.”
“Yeah, it is.” Ryan saw no point in lying about it. “It’s fantastic, actually.” He smiled and rubbed his jaw. “It wasn’t always like this. My dad built this ranch by the sweat of his brow. We saw lean years when I was growing up. Rafe and I had to fill in as ranch hands after school and on weekends. It was a family enterprise, and it took the whole damn family to make it back then.”
“That’s often the way of it. What happened to change things?”
“Rafe and I took over the place and damned near went bankrupt.” Her eyes widened, making him chuckle. “Seriously. Dad was off in Florida, living the life of leisure, thinking he was set for old age, and then a string of bad luck hit, the worst of it a forest fire that wiped out over half our herd. Rafe’s wife and kids were surviving on steak and milk, two things we had plenty of because we had cows. It was a hell of a mess. Right before we went tits up, we got the idea to sell off some of our land. We parceled off five thousand acres, divided it into lots, and sold sections to developers. We raked in over a hundred and fifty million.”
Her eyes went even wider. “Did you say million? That’s a lot. Is land really worth so much?”
“Yep. I know it sounds incredible, but it’s not if you pencil it out. We could have doubled that amount if we’d sold directly to the public instead of to developers. As it was, we got fifty each for Rafe and me, and fifty for our parents, most of which we invested. We’re all richer than Croesus now.” He winked at her. “When I’m not working my ass off and wading around in cow muck, I count my money.”
She laughed at that. “In other words, having a lot in the bank hasn’t changed your day-to-day life very much.”
“I don’t worry about paying the bills anymore. That’s a big change.” He shrugged. “And I can blow money when the mood strikes. Mostly, though, I don’t have time or inclination. It’s a really weird thing, but at the south end of a cow, it’s hard to think too ritzy. You know what I mean?”
She laughed again and nodded. “You’re right. A cow’s hind end has a way of putting things in their proper perspective.”
She fell quiet, her face reflecting enjoyment and no small amount of yearning as she stroked Rosebud’s velvety nose. Watching her, Ryan burned to get her back in the saddle again. He could almost see the expression that would light up her features.
She bent forward to kiss the mare’s forehead. “This has been a wonderful treat, Ryan. I’ve enjoyed it so much, and I’m so glad you brought me out.”
He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of treats, we’d probably better get cracking, or we’ll miss the mud pulls completely.”
After carrying Bethany back to the truck, he took her chair to a heavily graveled area at the front of the stables. Flipping a switch to activate the air compressor, he used the high-pressure hose at the front of the building to give the wheels a quick wash.
When he joined her in the Dodge, she said, “Okay, confess. You have a paraplegic relative you haven’t told me about.”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“For a man who’s never been around someone in a wheelchair, you’re amazingly competent at seeing to my every need.”
Glancing over at her as he started the truck, Ryan searched his memory for the last time he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much. He came up blank, which led him to wonder if he was seeing to her needs—or satisfying his own.
Chapter Four
Bethany.
Ryan had been to countless mud pulls, but never had he enjoyed one so much. Because he was sponsoring a tractor, he and Bethany were allowed to sit in the pits, she in her wheelchair, he on a camp chair. They dined on hot dogs, Coke, and cotton candy, not exactly haute cuisine, but she acted as if it were, saying, “Yum,” and wiping drips of relish from her chin every time she took a bite.
Despite the bursts of deafening noise, she made everything seem exciting and special. At one point a tractor lost traction, broke loose, and skidded across the mud toward them. Ryan’s heart shot into his mouth. He leaped from his chair, scooped her into his arms, and ran behind the fence. It wasn’t until he felt certain she was safe that he realized he’d not only spilled her soft drink all over them, but squashed wh
at remained of her hot dog between their bodies.
Instead of being frightened or upset, Bethany laughed until she was limp.
“Oh, what fun!” She shook mustard from her fingers, then glided her tongue over her lip, leaving a sheen on the rose-pink softness. “The look on your face when you saw that tractor coming toward us! Oh, if only I’d had a camera.”
He didn’t know what possessed him, but he dipped his head and licked a blob of relish off her chin. For an instant, she froze, her big blue eyes suddenly filled with wariness.
He wanted to say there was nothing to be afraid of, but maybe there was. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t understand, and it was happening far too fast. It made no sense. Off the top of his head, he could list a dozen reasons why a relationship between them would never work. But despite that, he felt the pull and was quickly losing his resolve to resist it.
Hoping to make her laugh again, he growled low in his throat, licked at a smear of mustard on her cheek, and said, “Yum. I must still be hungry.”
It broke the tension. She laughed and swiped at another spot on her cheek. “Probably! My brothers can eat six hot dogs without even shaking a leg.”
“I’ll go buy more food, I guess. You’re an expensive date, lady.”
“Ha. You’re a millionaire and getting off cheap.”
Ryan was in complete agreement. She deserved better than this, that was for sure. Filet mignon and expensive wine, candlelight and music.
She splayed a fine-boned hand over her chest and groaned as if she were in pain from having laughed so much. In that moment the sounds of the mud pull faded, and he became entirely focused on this woman he held in his arms. Even smeared with condiments, she was so damned beautiful.
He tried to take a mental step back. She couldn’t possibly be as lovely as all that. But she was. Her nose was small and tipped up slightly at the end, begging to be kissed. A touch of rose accentuated her daintily sculpted cheekbones. Her dark brows formed perfect arches over her eyes, which were big and so incredibly blue, they reached right out and grabbed hold of him.
From the chin down—don’t go there, you jackass—she was delectable, slightly built but delightfully round in all the right places. Whenever his gaze strayed in that direction, he thought of long nights on silk sheets, the soft glow of candlelight casting an amber sheen on her ivory skin. The image was so clear in his mind that he could almost see her—eyes dark and unseeing with passion, lashes sweeping low, breathing quick and shallow.
Ryan jerked himself back to the moment, disgusted with the way his thoughts were running. After a quick cleanup job with napkins from the refreshment stand, he carried her back to the pits, bought them each more food, and then settled beside her to watch the pulls. Fearful that another tractor might break loose, he nearly moved their chairs behind the fence, where he knew Bethany would be safe, but she would have none of that.
“I don’t get a chance to live dangerously often. Sitting down here is fun.”
Ryan didn’t want anything to happen to her—not on his watch. But he also wanted her to have a good time. He’d swept her out of harm’s way once; he could again.
Seeing the sparkle in her eyes made him ache with sadness for her. What must it be like to have been physically active as she’d been, and then end up confined to a wheelchair? He couldn’t imagine it.
During intermission, he pumped her for information. He learned that she’d once loved the wilderness and had frequently gone in by horseback with her brothers to camp at high-mountain lakes, an activity he enjoyed himself.
A dreamy expression came over her face as she shared memories of those rides. “For me, the wilderness was a spiritual experience. I know. That sounds really corny, but for me, it was like church. The beauty at daybreak, the muted glow of first light peeking over a ridge, the fantastic colors, the first song of a bird to greet the new day—it’s surely God’s way of saying good morning.”
As if she feared he might laugh, she wrinkled her nose and grinned. He had no urge to laugh, for he felt exactly the same way. “I know what you mean. Nothing makes me feel closer to God than being on a mountaintop. Seeing the sunrise or a gorgeous sunset. An eagle in flight or a deer with a fawn.”
Hugging her waist, she sighed and nodded, her expression wistful. Once again, Ryan found himself wishing he could get her on a horse again.
“And campfires!” she said softly.
He forced his mind back to the conversation. “Pardon?”
“Campfires. Is anything tastier than coffee boiled over an open flame?”
Her skin—just there, under her ear—would taste pretty damned good. “Nope. Nothing beats camp coffee.”
“And, oh, how I loved to huddle around the fire with my brothers at night. We sang songs, ate trout we’d caught for dinner, and then they scared me to death, telling spooky stories about Big Foot and ghosts until we all went to bed.”
“And then the fun was over.”
“No, that’s when it really got lively. They all had one-man pup tents, which are barely big enough for one person, and someone had to make room for me.”
“You didn’t have your own tent?”
“Yes, but after the stories I was too scared to sleep alone. It became a ritual—the argument about who got stuck with ‘the twerp.’ They drew straws, and poor Jake always lost. On purpose, I think. He felt responsible for me.”
Rafe’s wife Maggie had a twelve-year-old sister who lived with them. Heidi thought of Ryan as her older brother—when she wasn’t entertaining the notion of marrying him someday. He had taken her on a couple of wilderness rides and knew exactly how it went when a young girl got scared at night. Like Bethany’s brothers, he’d grumbled, but he hadn’t really minded sharing his tent. He wouldn’t mind making room for Bethany, either, for entirely different reasons.
“If you took up riding again, maybe you could still take occasional wilderness jaunts,” he suggested.
She considered the possibility for a moment. “No, it just isn’t feasible.”
“Why?”
A blush flagged her cheeks. “I have too many special needs. Most ordinary wheelchairs are terribly heavy, unsuitable for rough ground and much too bulky a burden to take in on a packhorse. There’d be no room left for supplies. On top of that, there are no handicapped facilities in the wilderness.”
Handicapped facilities? He hid a smile when he realized she was referring to rest rooms. She amused him and kept him guessing, this woman, sassy and outrageous one moment, then painfully shy about silly things the next.
As Ryan watched her talking, one thought entered his mind repeatedly. Perfect for me. She was the lady of his dreams in every way except one; she could no longer walk.
“So what do you do for fun now?” he couldn’t resist asking.
“Tame stuff. My family is so protective of me since my accident. Anything that involves an element of risk is out.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, yet another gesture he was coming to realize was habitual. “I suppose it sounds pathetic, a grown woman allowing her family to dictate to her.”
Ryan hadn’t been thinking that at all. He couldn’t fault her for being considerate of people’s feelings, though he did wonder at the wisdom of it in this particular instance.
“It’s just that I hate to worry them. While I lived in Portland, it wasn’t as bad. I lived in this totally cool apartment complex for handicapped people. I had oodles of friends, and we all checked on each other all the time. We were always planning group activities, which were a lot of fun because everything there was universally designed, even the swimming pool. When my—”
“Whoa. Back up. What’s universally designed mean, exactly?”
She quickly described the complex—how all the bathrooms were spacious to make room for special equipment for paralyzed residents, how all the doorways and halls were wider than usual. “And you should have seen the kitchens! Low, extended counters with tons of knee room and accessible work ar
eas so that even someone in a wheelchair could easily cook and reach appliances. I loved it. Where I’m renting now, nothing is especially designed for me. My brothers and dad have built me ramps, and I just make do. Everything has to go in the bottom cupboards. Daddy installed turntables so I can reach everything. Even at that, it’s inconvenient. All the appliances have to be at the front edge of the counters. The top shelves in my refrigerator are bare. Jake built me a little ramp I can roll onto that makes me tall enough to reach the sink, and Zeke made me a pullout cutting board that’s low enough for me.”
Ryan had never stopped to think how difficult it must be for someone like her to do things in a regular house.
“Anyway … I’m sure that’s boring. What were we talking about?” she asked with a laugh.
“How it was easier dealing with your family while you were in Portland.”
“Oh, yes. And, boy, was it. I just fielded their questions when they telephoned or came to visit, but the rest of the time, my life was my own. A bunch of us even went skydiving once. I did a buddy jump, of course, so I was in very little actual danger.”
The thought made him cringe. He suppressed his dismay and quizzed her about how she’d ended up in Portland, so far from family.
“After my accident and surgeries, I went to outpatient rehab there, decided to take some college courses in my spare time, and ended up going for a bachelor degree in computer science. I landed a good job in Beaverton after I graduated.” She shrugged and smiled. “My family urged me to move home, but I was settled in by then.”
“So … how did you end up back in Crystal Falls after all this time?”
“Daddy has a heart condition. A few months ago, the doctor ordered him to cut back on his work hours, and Jake had to take over the business. When he called and said he needed help, I couldn’t very well say no.” She rolled her eyes. “In truth, I think he invented a job for me just so I’d come home, but that’s neither here nor there. So far, it’s worked out fairly well—except that my brothers sometimes suffocate me by hovering.”
Phantom Waltz Page 5
