She’d been struggling with conflicting desires—to invite him in to continue the evening, if he seemed interested, or to hide herself away, embarrassed at having broken down in front of him.
But he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable when she’d melted down. He’d been warmly sympathetic.
That realization deciding for her, she said, “I can’t offer dancing or craft beer, but I could find you a glass of great wine. If . . . if you’d like to come in for a while.”
The smile that lit up his face had her silly pulses jumping again. “I’d like that, Cowgirl. If I wouldn’t be imposing.”
“I don’t like to drink alone.”
“We should probably both stick to water. But after you.”
*
Ten minutes later, they sat companionably on the sofa in the family room, Harrison having just handed Duncan a glass of one of her favorite brands of sparkling water.
“Thanks for asking me in. I didn’t want our evening out to end yet,” Duncan said, taking a sip from his glass. “And I also thought I owed you an explanation about Julie Ann.”
“You don’t need to explain anything more, unless you want to,” Harrison replied, hoping he would. “Although, did I hear you correctly? You said she’d ‘blindsided you’?”
Duncan laughed without humor. “Maybe I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. We both grew up here. Julie Ann’s daddy ran a ranch like ours, and in addition to school, we saw each other at 4-H events and cattle sales. Sometime about junior high, I started realizing girls were different—and Julie Ann turned from a chubby towhead to a blonde beauty. We went together all through high school and then at Texas A & M. Ranch born-and-bred, like me, she grew up tending cattle and barrel racing, able to rattle off the market price of beef and the cost of feed like most kids quote their favorite team’s football scores. I thought she loved and wanted what I did—to return to Whiskey River after graduation and take over managing the Triple A.”
Staring into the distance, he continued, “I should have suspected something when she announced she’d decided to go to law school first, but heck, there’s a pretty good law firm in Whiskey River. All those years, I’d never looked at anyone else, and tough as it was, I was willing to wait for her. I still expected her to come back here to practice law and help me run the ranch.”
“When did she let you know she’d changed her mind?”
“Not until it was almost too late. We’d been engaged for a year, had the wedding mostly planned. Then one Sunday night, after I’d spent the weekend at her Dallas apartment, she casually told me that she was going to stay in the city. She’d gotten a job offer from a prestigious firm there and intended to take it. She’d decided she didn’t want to live out her life in a town with more cattle than people, where a girl had to drive over an hour to be able to buy a decent pair of designer jeans. So unless I was ready to sell the ranch and move to the city, it was over between us.”
“Sell the ranch?” He made a disdainful noise. “Might as well tell me to cut out my heart. Maybe it made her feel less guilty to make it appear I was the one responsible for the breakup.”
Though his tone was matter-of-fact, the trace of bitterness underlying it told Harrison the pain had gone deep and lingered. “I’m sorry. It’s hard to have the hopes and dreams you’ve cherished for years crushed by someone you thought loved you.”
“As I’m sure you know,” he agreed with a nod. “I was pretty bitter for a long time. Then one day, I decided I was only hurting myself, holding on to feelings like that. She’d already moved on. Her family still runs the ranch, so from time to time she shows up in Whiskey River—like she did tonight.”
He shook his head, his smile wry. “She seems to think because I’ve forgiven her, we should go back to being all free and easy, like in the old days. Don’t get me wrong, I wish her only the best. But letting bygones be bygones doesn’t mean I want to be her friend again or spend time with her when she drops back into town. She’s hard to put off, though. I’ve found the easiest way to get her to leave is to endure her company for the space of a dance or a drink. She seems to think she can use her good looks to get me to dangle after her. But that bull’s already broken though the fence.”
“You’re not tempted?”
“Too many other attractive women in the world. Why should I let myself get worked up by one that’s already thrown me over once? You know—first time, shame on you, second time, shame on me. So, that’s the lowdown on Julie Ann.”
“I might as well finish off this ‘True Confessions’ session by doing the same—if only to present the facts. Considering what Julie Ann told you would have been filtered through Parker, there’s no telling how the story got twisted. That is, if you want to hear the truth.”
“I would, if you want to tell it.”
She’d give him the whole, sorry tale. “Daddy never liked Parker—’all flash and no substance,’ he used to say. I met him in a statistics class at the University of Texas, and was pretty resistant at first. I figured he was turning on the charm because he wanted me to tutor him, which he did. I told him I was willing to help him, he didn’t have to flatter me. After our tutoring sessions, he kept asking me out, and I kept refusing. Until at last, I gave in. He was funny, attentive, and so . . . beguiling, pretty soon I was head-over-heels. Thrilled a handsome guy like that could fall for an introverted math nerd like me. After college, he wanted us to take a job at the same firm, so we did. And then he wanted me to move in with him . . . so I did, though I knew Daddy wasn’t happy about it. And then he wanted us to go into business for ourselves.” She sighed. “And then he wanted to hire Madison . . .”
“You never suspected there was something between them?”
“No. Pretty dumb, huh? The only thing that makes me feel less like an idiot is that Sally, our office manager, seemed as shocked as I was. She insisted she’d had no idea, either, so he must have hidden his tracks pretty well. After I read his note, announcing he was dissolving the firm—”
“He left you a note?” Duncan interrupted incredulously. “At least Julie Ann had the decency to end things to my face.”
“Well, I’m not so sorry he did it by note. I was so sick and hurt and devastated . . . and angry, I can’t imagine what I could have said to him. I spent a couple more days in Dallas, calling clients . . . but it was hopeless. You see, it was Parker who took them to lunch or met them for drinks, Parker who went over with them the reports I prepared. So after a handful confirmed they’d feel more comfortable staying with him, I gave it up. Gathered up my things and what little remained of my dignity, and came to Daddy’s with no clear idea of what I’d do next.”
She laughed. “After a while, the clients may not be so happy they stayed with him. He’s hardly done a lick of real accounting work in years. Even when we worked with Richardson, Halder, & Blaine, the partners recognized his real talent was charming prospects.”
Duncan shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he said, and took her hand.
His touch warming and arousing her, she said, “I hate to think he was just using me, all those years. I want to believe he loved me, at least a little. Maybe after I read his note, I should have gone after him, fought for him. Fought for us. But then I thought, if I have to fight for him, I never really had his heart anyway, did I? And if I didn’t, better to find that out before we drifted into buying a house together, maybe even getting married and having a child. As it was, I got off pretty easy. Instead of being left a single mom saddled with a mortgage I’d struggle to pay, I ended up with just my heart sliced and diced and a lot of hurt pride.”
“I’d still like to go to Dallas and beat him up.”
She laughed. “Sometimes I want to go to Dallas and beat him up too.”
“Never let him make you feel that you’re not an attractive, desirable woman. Because you are.” His intent gaze held hers as his fingers gently stroked her hand.
“You think so?” she whispered. With her feelings raw, her ability to resist the
sensual energy sparking between them was disintegrating by the minute.
“How can you doubt it?” he murmured and bent down to kiss her.
Like before, his mouth was gentle on hers, coaxing rather than demanding. Once again the intoxication of having this kind, caring man seem attracted to her had her doubts about the wisdom of starting any sort of relationship vaporizing at the first touch of his lips.
As she leaned into him, he put down his glass and wrapped his arms around her, one arm around her shoulders, the other hand rubbing her back. Desire spiraling hotter, she opened her mouth to him.
Still, he took it slow, only gradually deepening his kiss until he lay her back against the couch cushions and pressed down against her, his tongue teasing hers, his hands going to cup her bottom and mold her more firmly against him. She met his tongue stroke for stroke, her hands clutching at his back.
He shifted her against him, then moved a hand to pop open the top button of her blouse, kissing his way from her mouth over her jaw down to where the pulse beat at the base of her throat, then down again, his tongue caressing the skin he’d bared in the hollow between her breasts.
How she’d missed being touched like this, having skillful hands and a mouth cherish her skin! How wonderfully the heat and coiled tension he created blocked out the pain and embarrassment and heartache, letting her feel nothing but pleasure.
Reveling in it, she’d slipped her fingers under his shirt to knead his chest, mindlessly ready to take this to another level, when the surge of hardness against her belly finally let sanity break through her rampaging senses.
Aghast, she pushed away and wriggled out from under him.
“S-sorry!” she gasped. “Duncan, I’m so sorry. But I can’t do this. I mean, I want to do this, but it isn’t right. Not to use this, use you, just to make all the . . . ugliness go away.”
He’d released her the instant she resisted, sliding away from her to the other end of the couch. At this, he gave her a rueful smile. “I don’t think I’d mind being used.”
“It wouldn’t be honest. I like you—a lot. I was so grateful for your understanding and sympathy tonight. It made a painful situation much easier. But to silence my scruples and take you to bed just to escape for a while from the hurt and the memories . . . If we make love, I want it to be because we both are ready to make that deep a commitment. And for there to be nothing else on either of our minds but each other. I . . . I’m not there yet. I’m sorry. Especially sorry if I seem to be playing the tease again. I didn’t mean to.”
“Not all your fault. I know you’re just coming out of a bad relationship. I need to back off, give you the space and time you need to heal. I know it took me a long time to get Julie Ann out of my head and heart. But a man can only stand so much temptation. And looking at you, with your lips swollen from my kisses and your blouse coming undone . . . I think it’s time for me to go home.”
“You’re not angry this time?” she asked as he stood up.
“This time, you’re not questioning my motives.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I guess I’m not.”
He leaned down to pull her to her feet and gave her a kiss on the forehead. After downing the last of his water, he said, “Walk me out to my truck.”
Relieved that he wasn’t offended, and embarrassed, now that the heat of passion had faded, at how she’d almost lost control and taken him to bed—a move she knew she wasn’t ready for, one she would surely have regretted—she was happy to comply.
When they reached the truck, he leaned over to give her another kiss on the forehead. “Maybe there can be something between us. I think I’d like that. But I never want to rush you or pressure you into doing something you’re not ready for. Healing takes time. I should know.”
She shook her head, marveling at him. “You really are an old-fashioned gentleman.”
He grimaced. “Guilty, I guess. Julie Ann used to tease me about being a traditional, do-it-the-old-way stick in the mud.”
“No, I think it’s wonderful! You remind me of Daddy. And he’s the best man I’ve ever known.”
The smile lit up his face. “Thanks! You couldn’t pay me a higher compliment. See you tomorrow, boss?”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Cowgirl. Sleep well.”
“You too.”
“And don’t worry too much about what people will say.”
“I won’t. Good night, Duncan.”
She stood and watched as he jumped into the truck, started the engine, then put it into gear and backed away. With a wave, he drove off.
She watched until the taillights disappeared around the bend.
I wish I could be sleeping with you, she thought. But in her bones she knew it was too soon for that. Lust came easy but trust—and belief in her ability to attract and hold a man—was much harder to establish.
And though she had pretty much acquitted Duncan of romancing her to get to her land, if she ever felt confident enough to build a relationship with any man again, she would have to be fully convinced that he’d gone into it because he wanted her and only her. Not her mathematical expertise, her managerial ability—or her inheritance.
Grateful for Duncan’s forbearance, she vowed to take all the time she needed.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, after riding out early to look for mamas and new babies, Harrison drove the pickup into town. As she’d resolved last night, today she intended to run every errand that had accumulated on her list, to be seen—and gawked at or talked over—at as many places as possible.
The sooner people satisfied their need to gossip about her, the sooner they’d move on to talk about someone else.
First stop, Ripley’s Drugstore to refill the supplies in her first aid kit. Daddy had told her that Martha Upton, the clerk there, was the town’s biggest gossip. Might as well start her rounds with the Queen of Whisperers.
The clerk was on the phone when Harrison entered, so she browsed the aisles, picking up assorted sizes of sterile gauze, a supply of Band-Aids, antiseptic cream, and more hydrogen peroxide. Then brought her purchases to the counter and waited, as, her back to the counter, Martha continued her conversation, apparently oblivious to Harrison’s approach.
“Really?” Martha said into the phone. “You won’t believe who he was sidling up to at the Kelly’s reception last weekend . . .”
She certainly wasn’t taking down a prescription called in by the doctor’s office, Harrison thought. Not interested in overhearing town gossip, she cleared her throat loudly, then picked up her supplies and dropped them back onto the counter with a thud.
Whirling around, Martha put her hand over the cell phone. “Sorry, got to go,” she murmured, then punched off her phone and turned to Harrison with a smile. “Find everything you needed?”
“Yes, thank you. Just a few first aid supplies.”
“My, that’s a nasty cut you got on your hand!”
“Caught it on some barbed wire when I was mending fences,” Harrison explained. “I dropped something and was trying to pick it up and didn’t watch where my hand went.”
“Maybe you should have come into town and gotten it stitched up at the clinic,” Martha said, tilting her head to peer more closely at Harrison’s palm. “Too late for that now, but it looks like it’s healing well.”
Nodding, Harrison produced her credit card and braced herself.
Sure enough, the woman’s eyes widened. “Harrison Scott! Oh, my! You poor dear! So sorry about your Daddy.”
“Thanks,” she said, over the lump being reminded of his death still brought to her throat.
Then Martha stiffened—as if just remembering something. “You were an accountant in Dallas, weren’t you?” she said in a casual tone as she scanned Harrison’s items.
Trying to confirm the gossip she’d heard from last night? Harrison wondered. “Yes.”
“Going to settle here in Whiskey River . . . or will you be retur
ning to your business in the city?”
“I’m still deciding,” Harrison said. “Daddy loved living in Whiskey River, and I know he would be pleased to have me stay and carry on the ranch. After all, the town is beautiful, and everyone has been so kind, considerate, and supportive.”
Not seeming to notice that pointed comment, Martha said, “I’m sure he would be pleased to have you stay on. Doted on that ranch and on you. Always bragging on how smart and successful you were—um, are.”
Harrison smiled. “You know how indulgent a daddy can be. Especially with his only daughter. Thanks for your help, and have a nice day.”
Blowing out a breath, she walked over to the post office for some stamps then crossed the square to the gift shop to get some post cards to send to her college friends. The post office clerk seemed indifferent, but at Texas Gifts she felt the salesgirl’s stare locked on her the entire time she browsed through the store.
Feeling she’d been on display long enough to deserve a reward, she walked down the square to the corner and went into Riva’s. To her relief, the friendly Natalie was once again manning the counter.
“Hello, there!” she said with a cheery smile. “What can I get for you today?”
“A shot of whiskey would be better, but I’ll settle for a cappuccino.”
Natalie raised her eyebrows. “Can’t help with the whiskey, but I’ll add a cinnamon roll. Tending cattle is hard work.”
Harrison laughed. “Don’t I wish! If the gossip mill here works as efficiently as it does in most small towns, you already know why I’m wishing it was five o’clock.”
“Yes, I heard,” Natalie said. “Sounds like you’ve been through some pretty awful times—what happened in Dallas and then losing your Daddy on top of it. You go on and have a seat. I’ll make the cappuccino a double and bring you the biggest cinnamon roll I’ve got.”
Once again, the woman’s kindness made tears sting Harrison’s eyes. “Thanks.” Not wanting this time to take her Daddy’s customary seat at the front window, Harrison chose a table along the back wall and sat down to wait, breathing in the rich aroma of coffee as the barista made her drink.
The Rancher Page 9