by Jillian Hart
It was to remain a mystery because he pushed back his chair, gathered his empty bowl and rose from the table. Dappled shade from the long shadows sifted over him as he hesitated. A pleasant softness settled within her as he studied her silently. Her guard fell down; perhaps it was because she was full from a tasty meal, had spent time being charmed by the Stone girls, and then there were the effects of the sugary chocolaty pudding. Must be bliss overload, she told herself, feeling something strange and unfamiliar stirring within her, a sensation she’d never felt before.
Definitely chocolate overload, she decided. Best to stick with the safest explanation. But was it the truth? She didn’t know. Time froze and the single moment when Adam’s gaze met hers stretched into an eternity. Her pulse stilled, her breathing stopped, she could see nothing but him towering above her, the lazy breeze ruffling the ends of his hair. So vibrant and strong and real she could not look away.
His gaze pierced her, as if he could see all the way to her soul. She didn’t have the barriers to stop him. She didn’t know where they had gone, but she felt exposed to him, as if he could see the scars in her spirit and the disillusion she didn’t know if she could overcome.
She might insist she was over what’s-his-name, but that was sheer stubbornness and wishful thinking. Was that what Adam could see? She didn’t know because he broke away to take his empty dish into the kitchen. The connection between them snapped, her pulse kick-started, time marched forward and he turned away. The noise, color, scents of the world returned. She sat blinking in the chair with the rush of sound ringing too loud in her ears and the brightness of the evening stinging her eyes.
“Cheyenne, now that we’re friends we can go riding and stuff, right?” Julianna looked up, still leaning against her arm, her soulful gaze framed by innocent curly lashes and tufts of brown hair that had escaped from her scrunchies.
“Yeah.” Jenny dug her spoon into the pudding mountain she made and took a small bite. “We’re starting to get really good. You saw us on the trail ride. Maybe we could do that again?”
“Maybe not the same trail ride, since that takes an entire afternoon.” She mentally flipped through her calendar—work, a weekend on call, upcoming wedding prep, not to mention the ranch work she’d volunteered for. “I’m sure we can fit in another trail ride sometime.”
“Yay!” Julianna bounced in her chair. “How about now?”
“The horses are at Cady’s stables,” Jenny stated practically, sitting tall, in charge. She looked down her nose at her little sister. “Wildflower is on the Granger ranch. We can’t ride tonight. It’s not set up.”
“Tomorrow?” Julianna was not easily defeated.
“Tomorrow I have dinner plans with Eloise.”
“What about the weekend?” Jenny asked.
“I have a final dress fitting in Jackson on Saturday and I’m probably helping with the haying on Sunday.”
“Oh.” Both girls deflated.
“How about after Sierra and Tucker’s wedding? I’m sure I will have time then.”
“We’ll talk Dad into it.” Julianna’s earnestness was priceless. “I know he’ll say yes.”
“You do?” Baritone rumbled like thunder. The screen door creaked and Adam ambled onto the patio.
“I just have a feeling, Dad.” Julianna beamed up at him.
“That I can’t say no to you?” He tugged on a pigtail gently. “Don’t count on it. I’ve decided to institute a new policy in this house. The answer is no from now on.”
“You aren’t fooling us.” Jenny scooped a last bite from her bowl, her forehead furrowing as if in deep thought. “Maybe you should come, too. Now that you know how to ride and everything.”
“Yeah, Dad!” Julianna jumped to her feet, clasped her hands together and turned on the charm. “Please, please, please?”
“I’ve done about all the horse riding I can take.” Get up on another horse? Just because last time had gone well and without incident didn’t mean it would again. “I’ll cheer from the sidelines.”
“We’re going on a ride, Dad, not around the corral.” Jenny dropped her spoon in her bowl and reached across the table to take charge of Cheyenne’s and Julianna’s empty bowls. “You could walk along with us, but it would be embarrassing.”
“Yes, people will talk,” Cheyenne chimed in sweetly. She knew his secret. He never should have revealed the details of the mean horse incident. “Word like that gets around, your reputation as a doctor will suffer. This is horse and cattle country.”
“I’m not afraid of a little gossip.”
Her gaze collided with his. Why did he feel as if he were falling into that mischievous blue?
“I’m just thinking of your girls. Having a father walking instead of riding would be a tough humiliation for them to endure.”
“So you will have to come along, Dad.” Jenny smiled secretly at her sister as if they had some ulterior motive.
“How did I get roped into this, I don’t know.” He stood and took the pile of bowls from Jenny. “You girls go play.”
“That means yes.” Julianna shouted over her shoulder on her way to a swing set tucked in the far corner of the lawn. “Look, Tomasina is still in her nest. At least she’s not on the ground.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Jenny’s tone held meaning beyond her words, a meaning that tugged at him, pulling him in a direction he didn’t want to go.
He’d agreed to a summer here but his children wanted more. They had horses they had grown close to, new adventures like trail riding and Granger barbecues. The summer was ticking away. July would be gone before they knew it and once they reached the last week in August, they would be packing up for their old life. A life they no longer wanted, but he did.
“Let me take those in.” Cheyenne’s alto broke apart his thoughts.
He’d forgotten he was holding the bowls. “No, you’re a guest. I’ll take care of these. I have some sweet tea made if you’re interested.”
“Perfect.” She rose from the chair, trailing him across the patio. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a sweet tea drinker.”
“Does that mean you take me for a sour kind of guy?” He held the screen door for her, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla. Her hair rippled like cinnamon silk as she waltzed by.
“If the shoe fits.”
“I deserved that.” He followed her into the kitchen, glancing toward one of the windows to keep watch. Julianna was on the swing, while Jenny fished her cell out of her pocket and began to text. He plunked the bowls into the sink. “I wasn’t in the best mood when you arrived.”
“So I noticed. It couldn’t have been a long workday here, could it?”
“It was. I had two new patients from neighboring towns. Business is picking up.” He grabbed two plastic glasses from a cupboard and headed to the fridge. “Stacy called right before you came. She isn’t happy I brought the girls out here. Our conversation didn’t go so well, but I think when she spoke to the girls it went better.”
“I thought I noticed a little extra sadness when we were talking about moms.”
“She walked out on us. She demanded a divorce. I’m hoping in time it won’t be as acutely traumatic for the girls.” He grabbed the pitcher, fighting the urge to close up entirely and it wasn’t easy. He’d been dealing with life that way for so long. Closed up, he couldn’t feel anything. Closed up, he didn’t risk letting anyone see how inadequate he felt. “It always takes me a while to calm down after I talk to her.”
“Sorry I had such bad timing. I should have chosen another night to bring Tomasina.”
“No. The girls had a better evening because you came by.” He replaced the pitcher and closed the refrigerator door. “They are doing better and better every day they are here.”
“That’s the effect of Wyoming’s wide-open spaces. Life is good here.”
“I would have argued with you a few weeks ago, but not today.” He felt at ease with her. Just the two of them in the kitchen and not a hint
of panic. Whatever initial response he’d had to her had transformed into an ultra sense of calm. Maybe because he knew he had nothing to worry about with her. The way she treated his children, every animal she came across and the care she’d shown the baby bird revealed the real Cheyenne Granger. “I didn’t want to move out here. I wanted to stay in New York. I miss New York.”
“Sure, but this country is growing on you.” She wrapped her long, slender fingers around one glass. Healing hands, gentle hands. A woman who made what difference she could in the world.
He caught a glimpse of his old self, the Adam Stone he’d once been. It was easier to believe he could be that man again as he took his tea and held the door for Cheyenne.
“I admit it. I like a few things about life in this town.” The fresh air was one of them, redolent with grass and rose fragrance from the flower beds and a general green smell that he would never forget. Years in the future, back home going through paperwork in his office he would remember the scent of the Wyoming breeze and this evening when his children were laughing and he felt safe and relaxed.
“You like a few things. Really? That many?” She twinkled at him, sparkling from the inside out. She settled into the chair next to him, tall and willowy and elegant in her country-girl way. “Name one.”
“I like the ice cream down at the drive-in.”
“They make it by hand.” She took a sip of tea. “Ooh, this is good. What else?”
“There is no traffic congestion. No waiting in any line anywhere. Housing is cheaper. My girls are better here. They need this summer.” He also realized a big truth about himself. “I do, too.”
She merely nodded, as if she understood the rest of what he could not say. It had been a long time since he felt he could trust a woman. Sure, he had Cady to turn to, but she was like family. With Cheyenne, it was different. He didn’t know why. He took a sip of tea and let the sweetness sluice across his tongue. It was a pleasant evening. He could hear every sound the wind made through the tree leaves, through the grass blades and the faint tinkle of Mrs. Plum’s wind chimes an acre away.
He didn’t know what it was about Cheyenne, but he felt amazingly comfortable with her. Companionable. He glanced over to check on his daughters again—Jenny was sitting cross-legged in the grass, her thumbs flying over the keys, Julianna swung higher and higher, pigtails flying. He cleared his throat. “You’ve prodded and probed. Now it’s my turn.”
“What? I didn’t prod. I didn’t probe.”
“With your questions you did.” He almost chuckled. The small rumble rising in his chest seemed to break a piece of his emotional scar tissue, and he breathed easier. “Why is a woman like you still single?”
“Oh, you’re wondering what exactly is wrong with me, is that it?” Amused, she studied him over her glass rim. A shadow darkened her but when he blinked, it was gone. “I am fully committed to staying single.”
“Fully committed? That’s a strong statement.”
“Backed by a strong sentiment. Let’s just say my last Valentine’s Day was traumatic, and I’m now single and totally determined to stay that way.” She shrugged as if nothing bothered her from that experience. From all appearances she was a woman too strong and confident to have been wounded by love.
He’d thought he was too strong and confident, too, and yet his failure to keep his wife and to make his marriage last had knocked him to his knees. He was a man used to success, he had triumphed at everything else he’d attempted in life. He wondered if Cheyenne might be similar, successful on so many levels but not when it came to what mattered most.
Her cell chose that moment to ring. Relief flashed across her face, a face lovelier every time he looked. She dug the phone from her trouser pocket and glanced at the screen. “Saved by the bell. I have to take this. It’s work.”
“I know all about being on call.” He leaned back in his chair, listening to the clear notes of the birds singing and feeling a deeper peace roll through him. He watched her rise from her chair with ballerina grace and a sprinter’s energy.
“This is Dr. Granger,” she said into the phone, moving away toward the rail, intent on the call. She was serious about her work and capable, not at all the kind of woman he went for. Maybe that was why he was at ease with her. Maybe that explained why he could open up to her.
“Okay, Martha. I’ll be right over.” While she’d pitched her voice into the phone, the reassuring tones sailed to him on the evening breeze. “Stay calm. There’s no reason to worry. Everything will be fine. I’ll see you in five minutes, tops.”
“Trouble?” He rose from the table, already knowing she had to go.
“Martha Wisener’s very beloved prized cat is about to have kittens and she wants me there.” Cheyenne tucked her phone into her pocket. She looked lovely enfolded in the soft, dappled shade. She was everything good, everything he’d stopped believing in. “Martha’s just a tad nervous.”
“No high risks, no complications?”
“No. I’ve known Martha all my life—how can I say no?” She shrugged as if she didn’t mind at all, or perhaps she was glad to have an excuse to avoid his earlier question.
“Then you can spare one moment.” He moved in front of her, blocking her escape. “I want to hear your answer.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“Neither can I.” His smile stretched his face, the widest smile he’d had in too long to count. The stretch of his heart matched. “Tell me.”
“It was typical, I guess. Every girl probably has this happen to her at one time or another.” Her chin went up, her shoulders squared and hurt glittered in poignant blue. She blinked but the hurt remained. Casual, as if she were talking about the weather, she waved one hand as if it were no big deal. “I fell for Edward at vet school.”
“So this was recent?”
“Fairly. We got along well together. I started imagining a future with him, but he was just going through the motions, biding his time. Edward wanted a girlfriend, but I wasn’t The One. He knew it. I was convenient for him, nothing more. I figured it out eventually, but the damage was done.”
“You left out a lot from that story.” He didn’t move from of her path. “The same way I left out a lot in the telling of mine.”
“Then you can guess at what I didn’t say.”
“Yes.” He swallowed, the low notes of his baritone dipping richly. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“A lesson I will never forget.” She didn’t mention Edward had been her first real love. Her one vulnerable, inexperienced romance and her heart was still badly bruised from it. She had been the studious girl in high school, too serious for the boys in her class. She wasn’t exactly a social butterfly in college and still wasn’t, since she felt more comfortable with animals than people. Edward had been exactly the kind of man she’d once dreamed of—smart, funny, kind and loved animals. It would have been better if she told Adam all of that, but what rolled off her tongue? The things she most wanted to keep secret.
“I shouldn’t have expected so much.” She had never caught a man’s attention before, so perhaps that should have been a clue. She’d expected everything with Edward. Maybe she wasn’t the kind of woman who instilled the need to love, cherish and protect in a man. Maybe there was some reason she wasn’t lovable romantically.
“That’s how I feel, too.” Adam’s confession surprised her. “We have a lot more in common than I first thought. I suppose I will see you again sometime?”
“In a town as small as this, that is a certainty.” She tugged her truck keys from her pocket. She ignored the tingle of awareness when she skirted by him, whisper close, and attributed it to her emotional turmoil. Edward was not a pleasant memory.
“Cheyenne, are you leaving?” Jenny looked up from typing on her phone.
“Duty calls. Kittens are on their way into this world as we speak.”
“Wait! Don’t go yet.” Julianna skidded to a stop on the swing and bounded across the lawn
. “Can I come, too? I want to see kittens being born.”
“Not this time, cutie. I’m sorry.” Cheyenne was touched when the girl launched against her in a sweet hug. Fondness trickled in as she hugged the girl in return before stepping away. “How about I send you a picture after they are born, if Martha says it’s okay?”
“Yes.” Julianna bounced while Cheyenne handed over her phone to Jenny, who competently punched her number into the device. “I’m so excited. Dad, did you hear? Kittens. Do you think—”
“No.” Adam cut her off with a wink and an easy grin that doubled his amazing masculine charisma. “No kittens this time, but maybe somewhere in the far and distant future.”
“Oh, Daddy! You finally understand.” Julianna clasped her hands, steepling them as if in prayer, transformed with a higher level of adoration for her father. “I want a kitten and a puppy and a horse and a cow like Buttercup.”
“Stop. We can’t fit all that into our house back home.” He actually joked, the humor a definite improvement. Cheyenne couldn’t hold back a little sigh. The man was striking enough to steal her heart.
If she was in the market, that is. Good thing she wasn’t interested in romance with Adam or anyone. She took her phone from Jenny, said her goodbyes and headed down the walkway to her waiting truck. The sun brightened like a beacon but it could not be a sign.
She buckled up, started her engine and drove away.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, Sean and I have set a wedding date.” Eloise squinted across the length of the cab of Cheyenne’s truck to bring the drive-in’s menu into focus. “We’re looking at Valentine’s Day. A little cliché, but it just seems to fit us.”
“It’s certainly perfect,” Cheyenne agreed as she upped the air-conditioning now that her window was down. Hot, dry July air blasted in like a furnace. Sometimes love was right, you could look at a couple and see they had what it took to go the distance. It was as obvious with Eloise and Sean as the sky above. “The two of you make the best couple. Nothing could be sweeter than you two.”