Big Sky Romance Collection

by Denise Hunter

  “Something going on there?”

  “Nope.”

  Wade smirked. “Really.”

  Dylan clenched his jaw. Fact was, he was coming to the conclusion that he’d already let things get too far with Annie. His heart ached when he thought of her. He was starting to wonder if he was in love with her.

  The thought darted straight toward his heart and pierced it dead center. Bull’s-eye. There was no wondering about it. He had fallen in love with her. Somehow. Somewhere along the way. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, sure hadn’t wanted it.

  “Nothing to say?”

  He had to forget about Annie. But saying it and doing it were two different things, and he couldn’t seem to get any fire behind the idea.

  “Moving on to greener pastures,” Dylan said.

  Too bad no one else could hold a candle to Annie.

  “You know,” Wade said. “Gonna say something here.”

  Dylan scowled. “You have to?”

  “I’m remembering a night in my barn a couple years ago when you had a few words for me.”

  “That was different. You and Abigail were meant to be. Just had your foolish pride standing in the way.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way she looks at you.”

  The thought made his limbs go weak.

  “She’s free from Oakley. There’s nothing standing in your way now. Nothing but your fear.”

  Dylan ground his teeth together. He’d already relived the whole Merilee episode with Annie, really didn’t want to go there with Wade too. His friend knew better than anyone what she’d put him through.

  “She’s not Merilee, buddy. Sometimes you just have to cowboy up and take a chance, that’s all.”

  “Are we done now?”

  Abigail approached and pulled Wade from his seat. “Come on, handsome.”

  Wade took her hand and gave Dylan a pointed look over his shoulder. All this could be yours, too, if you just laid down that fear of yours, his eyes seemed to say.

  Yeah, buddy, I get it.

  Dear Anxious,

  You can’t control your boyfriend or anyone else. Except yourself, if you’re lucky.

  31

  The next week Annie stood in the middle of the pasture working with Braveheart on the long line. A single line had caused the horse to turn inside, following her voice rather than circling. So she’d put another line around his body, keeping it high, above his hocks, to keep him in square. It had taken awhile for him to adapt to the extra line, but he was coming along.

  “That’s it, buddy, you’re doing great.”

  She wished things were going as well with Sierra. She’d been torn about keeping Ryder from Luke. She’d even considered an ultimatum: either Sierra told Luke the truth or she would. But Annie could never follow through on that threat.

  Besides, maybe her sister was right. Ryder was doing fine, and what if Luke only hurt him? Still, she couldn’t escape the fact that it just felt wrong.

  Fortunately, between work and trying to find another parttime job, Annie had been home to do little other than sleep. And mercifully, Luke hadn’t been around when she’d come to work with Braveheart.

  “How’s it going?” Dylan asked, climbing the fence. He waited to approach until she directed Braveheart to stop. The nape of Dylan’s hair was damp, his sleeves rolled up on his arms.

  “I was wondering where you were.” She’d been hoping he wouldn’t show up. Being with him only made her feel guilty.

  “Miss me?”

  “Hmmph.” She wasn’t willing to admit, even to herself, that he might be right. “He’s doing better than last week, don’t you think?”

  “Sure is.” His eyes twinkled, and she told herself it was because he was pleased with Braveheart.

  He talked to the horse and patted his neck, but when he looked at her, she read the admiration on his face.

  “You added a second lunge line. Very clever.”

  The compliment warmed her more than it should. “It keeps him in line.”

  He winked. “And aren’t you good at that.”

  She notched her chin up, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. “Someone has to do it.”

  He grinned.

  Maybe spilling his heart about Merilee had shifted something in him. He was right back to the old Dylan. Maybe he felt safer behind his Casanova façade, and frankly, it was easier for her too. So long as he kept his distance.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and Annie checked the screen. It was Sierra’s school. She frowned.

  “Go ahead. I’ve got Braveheart.”

  “Thanks.” She answered the phone.

  “Miss Wilkerson? This is Elaine Conroy from the registrar’s office at MSU. How are you today?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “I’ve been trying to reach Sierra Wilkerson to let her know tomorrow is the last day for registration. You’re listed as a contact, so I was wondering if you might pass that along?”

  “She hasn’t registered?”

  “No, ma’am. I see she’s only got five classes left. Is she planning to attend this fall?”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Well, she’ll want to come to the registrar’s office tomorrow. Online registration is closed and classes start on Monday. As it is, she may have difficulty scheduling her remaining classes.”

  “I’ll let her know. Thanks so much for calling.”

  Annie pocketed her phone. What in the world? Annie had been reminding her for weeks, but with the distraction of Luke’s arrival, she hadn’t double-checked. Sierra must’ve forgotten.

  “Everything okay?”

  Annie sighed. “Sierra. I don’t know what I’m going to do with that girl.” She had half a mind to call her now. But she needed to handle this face-to-face, and she needed some time to cool her heels.

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Not unless you want to nag a twenty-year-old into registering for classes.”

  He gave that crooked grin and his dimples appeared. “Not my specialty.”

  Annie couldn’t think about Braveheart anymore. She needed to get home and deal with Sierra. “Would you mind if we wrap it up?”

  “Sure.” He took Braveheart’s lines and led him back to the barn.

  “What a week. What a month,” Annie said as she unclipped the lunge lines from the bridle and handed them to Dylan. “I just need to get her through one more semester, and she’ll be on her way.”

  “You sure take on a lot.”

  “She’s my sister. Besides, I promised my grandfather.”

  She’d never told anyone, not even Shay, about the deathbed promise. She wondered why she’d told Dylan. Maybe it was the connection between their grandfathers. Maybe it was because he’d opened up about his heartbreak.

  “Promised him what?”

  Annie patted Braveheart, then followed Dylan to the tack room. “Sierra’s always been a little too much like our mother. Grandpa was worried about her, especially after she turned up pregnant. When he got sick, I promised him I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That I’d help her get on her own two feet and see her settled.”

  He hung the lines on the hook. “That’s a lot to take on. You were young.”

  “Not really. I was twenty.”

  “Same as Sierra now.”

  The realization took her back. But it was hardly the same. Annie had been independent and responsible at twenty. She’d already started her business and owned a home.

  “She’ll figure it out.”

  “I hope so.”

  “She gonna bring her car over soon? I feel guilty taking your time and giving you nothing in return.”

  Annie barely stopped the flinch. Sierra didn’t need to be anywhere near here, not until Luke left.

  “It’s still making noises?”

  “Yeah. She’ll bring it by before college starts. Otherwise it’s going to break down halfway between Bozeman and here, and then she’ll be up a creek.” />
  He walked her to her truck. He’d only been with her ten minutes and she’d been dumping on him the whole time. He wasn’t Miss Lucy, for heaven’s sake.

  She turned at the driver’s door, contrite. “Sorry.”

  He cocked a smile. “For what?”

  “Dumping on you.”

  “I dumped on you last time.”

  Their eyes locked. His brown eyes grew serious. They were the color of cocoa in the evening light, deep and warm. His hand lifted, reached toward her. Then he dropped it, stuffing it into his pocket instead.

  She wondered what he’d had in mind before he thought better of it. She wondered if it was the fear in his heart that held him back. She supposed it didn’t matter now.

  Besides, she had her hands way too full with Sierra to worry about what Dylan might be thinking. She broke eye contact and slipped into the truck.

  When Annie got home, however, Sierra wasn’t there. Annie started supper and went to work on the growing pile of laundry. The clothes were in the dryer, and the chicken was in the oven by the time Sierra strolled in with Ryder.

  “Aunt Annie!” Ryder hugged her around the legs, his cowboy hat lurching back. She’d hardly had any time with the boy the past couple of weeks.

  “Hey, Bed Head. I’ve missed you.”

  “I spent the day with Miss Lucy! Wanna play Chutes and Ladders?”

  “Sure, after supper. Why don’t you go outside and swing for a while. I need to talk to your mama, okay?” She wondered where Sierra had been if Miss Lucy had been babysitting.

  Ryder had run off by the time Sierra entered the kitchen, her defined brows popping up. “What’d I do now?”

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “Relax, I just went to Bridgett’s house. No chance of seeing Luke there, and I’m dying of boredom here.” She crossed her arms.

  This wasn’t how Annie wanted to broach the conversation about school, with Sierra already on the defense.

  She turned down the rice and faced her sister. “I was hoping to talk about school. The registrar’s office called today.”

  Sierra lifted her chin. “And?”

  “They said you need to register tomorrow—it’s the last day. Classes start Monday.” She locked her lips into a calm smile, determined not to let this spill into another pointless speech.

  “I know that, Annie.”

  “Do you know that you won’t graduate in December if any of those classes are full?”

  “I believe you’ve made me aware of that. Several times.”

  Annie frowned at her. “Then what’s the holdup? You’re only a few months from your degree; why are you risking everything? Soon you’ll be able to get a job doing just what you want. Have you even checked with Martha about babysitting?”

  Sierra leaned against the door frame and gave a wry laugh.

  “What does that mean?”

  She waited, but Sierra only pressed her lips together.

  “So you’ll register for your classes tomorrow, and hopefully they’ll all be open. It’ll get you out of the house too. Doesn’t a trip to Bozeman sound nice? I suppose I could call Martha for you.”

  When the buzzer sounded, Annie turned off the stovetop. The chicken still had a few more minutes, so she reset the timer.

  “I’m not registering for classes, Annie.”

  She turned. Sierra had her elfin chin up, that stubborn look on her face. “You have to. Tomorrow’s the last day.”

  Sierra straightened. “I’m quitting school.”

  Annie’s stomach dropped to her toes. “What? Don’t be ridiculous! You have one semester left.”

  “I don’t want to be a journalist anymore.”

  “You don’t want to— That’s crazy, Sierra. You’ve been in school for three and a half years! It’s taken most of what Grandpa left us to get you through—”

  Sierra whirled around. “I knew you’d bring that up!”

  Annie followed her into the living room. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “I’m trying to tell you what I want. I want to be a photographer.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “A photographer!”

  “Remember that guy I was seeing—that friend of Dylan’s from the rodeo? Well, he’s interning as a photographer in Texas, and he taught me a lot while he was here. That’s what we were doing, why we were out all night. He showed me how to take night pictures and—

  “See?” She pointed at Annie’s face. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. But it doesn’t matter what you think, Annie. I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions, and I’m not going back to school!”

  “You have a child to support, are you forgetting about that? We don’t have the money for another four-year program or even a twoyear program.”

  “I have other options, if you’d just listen. I have a friend who’s a photographer. He has a studio and everything, and he’s willing to let me intern. He thinks I’ve got talent.”

  “You are one semester away—”

  “From a degree I don’t want!”

  “Well, it would’ve been nice if you’d have figured that out thirty thousand dollars ago!”

  Sierra growled, turning down the hall.

  Annie followed, stopping at Sierra’s bedroom door. “It’s just one semester. Can’t you just suck it up so you’ll have a degree to fall back on if this photography thing doesn’t work?”

  “You’re already expecting me to fail. Well, I won’t. I have a plan, Annie. Believe it or not, I’m capable of making a plan and carrying it out.”

  Like her plan for a journalism degree? Not to mention all the jobs she’d been fired from. Annie clamped her mouth shut.

  “You think I’m a failure.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Aren’t I a good mom? Haven’t I done a good job with Ryder?”

  “You’re a great mom. But you need a way to make a living. A degree would give you that. Just sign up for the classes, Sierra, and get your degree! Later you can—”

  “You’re not my mom, Annie! I’m so tired of you trying to control me. I feel trapped, and I’m sick of it!”

  “Well, you should feel grateful.”

  “Stop telling me how to feel!” Sierra’s face bloomed with color. She whipped out her suitcase and jerked a drawer open. “I have to get out of here. I need to be alone.” She shut the door in Annie’s face.

  “You can’t risk being seen in town.”

  “Again—none of your business!”

  Annie returned to the kitchen, her legs shaking. She turned off the buzzer that she hadn’t noticed until now and removed the chicken. The smell of oregano and thyme turned her stomach.

  Mechanically, she checked on Ryder, who was on his tire swing, then cut open the hot bag of rice and dumped it into a bowl. She set the table. For three? For one? Where was Sierra planning to go? Probably back to Bridgett’s house. Maybe Annie could talk some sense into her before she left.

  She set the table for three and was putting the food out when Sierra entered with her suitcase and Ryder’s Batman bag. Without a word she carried the bags out the back door and knelt down to talk to Ryder at the swing. A moment later he climbed down and followed Sierra around the side of the house.

  Not even a good-bye? She obviously wasn’t planning to return before tomorrow. When would she convince Sierra to register? She had to try one more time or at least confirm Sierra would be home tomorrow.

  Annie was walking out of the house as Sierra tried to start her car, but it wasn’t turning over.

  Thank You, Jesus. A reprieve. She drew a breath and let it out, but her sister and Ryder continued to sit there. Well, let her stew. Maybe she’d calm down and be able to discuss this rationally. Annie was glad her own keys were safely tucked in her pocket. Sierra was too angry to ask for them.

  Annie went back inside. She wasn’t hungry anymore. She covered the chicken and rice and placed it in the warm oven, then headed for the shower. She’d feel better after the day’s dirt
and grime were gone.

  After the shower she dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The house was still quiet, and a peek out the window revealed Sierra and Ryder on the porch steps. She heard his low chatter and Sierra’s monosyllabic responses.

  Maybe they were all ready for supper now. Her own stomach had settled. She was removing the food from the oven when she heard the rumble of a vehicle in the drive. It suddenly occurred to her that Sierra wasn’t just cooling off, but waiting for Bridgett.

  Annie set down the food and darted for the front door. Ryder was climbing into a blue truck, Sierra on his heels. She didn’t recognize the truck or the man in the driver’s seat.

  Annie scrambled across the porch. “Wait, Sierra!”

  Her sister climbed in.

  “Wait. Let’s talk about this.” Annie’s heart pounded as her bare feet took the steps.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Do you even know this guy?” she called.

  The door slammed, and the truck swung around, offering her a full view of Sierra’s stubborn face. “Give me some credit, Annie,” she said through the window.

  And then the truck was rumbling down the drive. A man she didn’t know, taking her sister and nephew who knew where. Annie put her hands on her heated cheeks.

  Oh, God, keep them safe. What can I do now? What should I do?

  But there was nothing to do. The truck was already turning onto the main road, headed toward town, of all places. She couldn’t call the sheriff. Sierra was an adult, and she’d left willingly.

  Annie staggered up the porch steps and back into the house.

  Dear Uncertain,

  I don’t know that love is something you can define with words, but when you find it, you’ll know.

  32

  Annie paced the house, not settling anywhere, like an antsy horse. Where had she gone wrong with Sierra? She’d known the girl had gotten off course, not attending church regularly, getting fired from jobs.

  But this.

  Quitting school when she was so close, completely changing her career path, wasting all that money. What was she thinking? And now she’d run off with some man Annie had never seen, taking her four-year-old child with her.