He opened his eyes just as she lost a smile. “I never said you were senile.” He groaned when she walked away. “We’re not done. Where are you going?”
“To get you a beer, you damn cry baby.”
“Okay.” He slumped back. “Good. Thanks.”
She brought two bottles out of the refrigerator and let him twist the caps off. They took swigs at the same time.
“Explain to me why you want to sign the ranch over,” Violet said, settling into her plaid recliner.
“Shelby needs a place to call her own. A place that won’t cost her an arm and a leg while she gets her business off the ground. She needs to feel independent. You of all people should understand.” He looked at the big envelope she’d brought in. “I assume that’s the deed. Just, she can’t know I signed the ranch over to her. That’s important.”
Violet’s narrowed eyes bore into him. She gulped some beer without taking her gaze off his face. “Ever consider that what she needs is you?”
“Come on, Violet, don’t start meddling in that area. You know I’m recently divorced. And Shelby was engaged until a few weeks ago. She needs space, and time to think. We can’t just— Look, I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“So?”
“So it’s complicated. We don’t even know each other all that well.”
She snorted. “You know her well enough to hand over the Eager Beaver.”
Trent clamped his mouth shut. Hard to argue that point. After another pull of beer, he said, “If I don’t, I’m afraid she’ll go back to Denver. To her old job. Maybe even marry her ex-fiancé.” There. He’d voiced his biggest fear. The thought alone was killing him.
Violet frowned. “What would you do if she doesn’t want you to stick around?”
His gut clenched at the possibility. “I don’t know yet. But I have more options than she does.”
“Good God in heaven. You’ve always been my favorite, Trent. Don’t be a dummy.” Violet shook her head. “Fretting over my poor eyesight, when you can’t see what’s plain as day.”
“Dammit, Violet—”
“Go on. Get. I missed my nap.” She pushed to her feet.
“You know what, why don’t you just give me the paperwork, and I’ll go down to the county office and make things official.”
Violet smirked. “You got any idea how old that piece of paper is? It ain’t in just your name.” She sighed with disgust. “If you want the girl to have it, I’ll take care of it.” Her face softened. “But I’m telling you, it’s not the Eager Beaver that’ll keep her here.”
Trent felt as if his feet were planted in cement. A few days ago, he might’ve believed that Shelby felt strongly enough about him to stay. But now, after he’d overheard her talk with her ex? Hell, she’d slept in her own room last night. If that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was.
* * *
“FEEL LIKE GOING out for dinner?”
Shelby looked up at Trent standing in the doorway. He must have just finished working outside and washed his face because his damp hair was slicked back. Smiling, she set aside her glue gun. “What brought this on?”
“What? I can’t ask my favorite girl out on a date?”
She raised her brows. “Your favorite girl.”
“I knew you’d like that.”
She doubted she’d be able to eat. Her stomach was acting up, and she’d pricked her fingers a million times on stupid silver wire. She’d slept terribly, wanting badly to crawl into bed with Trent. But by the time she’d finished working it had been almost 2:00 a.m. and she hadn’t wanted to wake him.
It wasn’t enough that she was panicked about getting out her orders. Tomorrow was the day. And Violet had been AWOL. Shelby couldn’t rest until she’d told the woman she wanted Trent to have the Eager Beaver.
“You’re thinking about going back to Denver, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“It’s okay.” Trent shrugged, as if he was commenting on the weather. “I mean, I’d understand. Not that you’d need my permission.”
“You’re right about that.” It was about the only thing he was clued in to from where she sat.
“What I’m trying to say, and doing a very bad job of it, is that I wouldn’t try and stop you.”
Speechless, hurt to the bone, she could only stare at him. She’d been praying for a sign he wanted her to stay. She’d really thought...
Oh, God.
“Donald seems like an okay guy.” He glanced at the mess she’d made of the room. “You wouldn’t be working so hard for peanuts.”
Money didn’t mean anything to her. He knew that. “So, tonight is supposed to be a goodbye dinner?”
“No, Shelby.” The mask of indifference slipped. He finally looked like himself again. For a few seconds, anyway. “No. You’ve been edgy all day. I figured— I thought maybe you were dreading having to tell— I don’t know.” He scrubbed at his face. “Guess I’m still tired.”
She had been edgy, cursing under her breath every time she’d nicked herself or dropped the tweezers. So, okay, she could cut him some slack. Still, tired or not, she hated that he could look so okay with her leaving.
“How about sandwiches?” she said, and tried to smile. “I don’t really want to go anywhere until Violet comes home. Aren’t you worried? Does she do this often?”
“She’s home,” he said, his expression a mixture of caution and concern. “We already had a talk.”
Her heart pounded so hard she jumped to her feet hoping to slow it down. “A talk?”
“Yeah.” He eyed her warily. “About not taking off like that.”
“I should go check on her.” She tried to skirt him, but he caught her arm.
“She’s fine, Shelby. I told her she shouldn’t drive anymore so she’s not in the best of moods.”
“Oh, so now you know what’s best for everybody, is that it?”
“Whoa.” Frowning, he let go her arm. “You don’t agree that Violet shouldn’t be behind the wheel?”
Shelby swallowed. “Of course I agree, but don’t think you know what’s best for me. Because I can assure you, you’re clueless.” She tried to squeeze past him. “Absolutely clueless.” She’d tossed and turned last night, thinking about Donald and Denver, and what would happen once she relinquished her rights to the Eager Beaver. How foolish she’d been to spend so much of her salary on the right clothes, the right car, trying to belong in Donald’s world. Now, her savings wouldn’t take her far. It would be hard to turn down working for his family.
Just thinking that made her sick to her stomach. Dammit, no matter what happened she wouldn’t return to Denver. She’d rather live in her car than settle for a man, or a job. In fact, she was done with settling for anything. She was better than that.
And if Trent didn’t love her? She’d be fine. Okay, maybe not fine, but she’d survive. Right?
That last part made her a little shaky.
“Excuse me, please. I want to check on Violet.”
“She’s taking a nap,” he said.
“How convenient.”
Trent looked confused at first, and then uneasy as he stepped aside. “If I swear to you Violet’s fine, will you leave it alone?” he asked quietly as she passed him.
Shelby froze. He knew. Violet had already told him the ranch was hers, and the first thing he’d said to her was about how he wouldn’t stop her from going back to Donald? How could it be that after everything they’d been through, Trent hadn’t changed at all? He still wanted her to go back where she’d come from so he could have his precious ranch.
It hit her hard. So hard, she could barely breathe. Trent was supposed to tell her he didn’t care about who owned what. That all he wanted was for the two of them to be together. Instead, he wanted
to pack her off to Denver so he could have the Eager Beaver to himself.
She nearly choked on a sob and hurried on through the house. No. She wouldn’t cry. Not again. Not in front of him, or because of him. Why had he been so great the night after the fair? How could he have looked at her as if he cared...as if he might even love her back. It made this so much harder.
For a split second she thought about changing her mind. But keeping the ranch would be spiteful and so not her. At heart Trent was a good man. One of the best she’d ever known. He only wanted to keep his home, continue with his new life. She understood that bone-deep need. God, how she understood. But dammit, she loved him. Which was turning out to be a huge mistake. One of many. But this one would be incredibly hard to get over.
She paused in the living room, looked toward the kitchen. Where was she going? She had no idea where she was headed. Oh, Violet.
Shelby stopped again in the kitchen. Filled a glass with water and downed half of it. When had her mouth gotten so dry? She drained the glass, set it in the sink. Pushed her hands through her hair as she composed herself on the way to the back door.
“Shelby, wait.” Trent was standing at the doorway to the living room. “Come on, honey, can’t we talk?”
“Don’t—” She whirled around with a finger in the air. How dare he? “Do not call me that. Not now. Not ever.”
His stricken expression faded, hardened. “Okay.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, his mouth a firm thin line. “Got it.”
This was the image of him she needed to keep in her head. And not cry, she told herself again. Crying would be bad. She still had to see Violet. Pack.
Oh, God.
She pulled open the screen door and almost trampled the poor woman.
Violet jerked back. “Where’s the damn fire?”
Shelby glanced over her shoulder. Trent was still there. “Can we go to your trailer and talk?” she whispered.
“Nope.” Violet pushed past her. She walked straight to the kitchen table and laid down an envelope. “We’re talking right here. All of us.”
Trent eyed her, his expression a warning. “You aren’t going to do anything foolish now, are you, Violet?”
“Nah, I’ll leave that to you. Being so good at it like you are.”
He slowly walked to the table, looking pale under the kitchen light. “Violet, I’m begging you.”
He looked scared, desperate and angry all at the same time. Shelby had never seen this expression on him before. Her stomach clenched painfully.
“Actually, Violet, I really need a minute alone with you,” Shelby said in her most persuasive voice.
“Tough. Sit down. Both of you. I’m missing my nap and my TV shows so I ain’t in a good mood.”
Trent folded his arms across his chest, his mouth clamped tight. Shelby tried not to notice how his biceps bunched. Or that he still looked a bit scared. She did as Violet asked and took a seat. But Trent, he wasn’t having it. He stayed right where he was.
Violet dragged a chair from the table and sat. “I’m only going to say this once—”
“Fine. I already know.” Trent cut in, staring at Violet so hard it had to hurt. “Shelby owns the Eager Beaver.”
“What? No.” Shelby shot to her feet. “You do. Tell him, Violet.” She silently pleaded with the woman, staring just as hard as Trent. She crouched next to Violet. “Tell him,” she whispered, her eyes burning. She willed the tears to remain unshed. “Please.”
Violet blinked back a suspicious sheen of moisture. “I don’t have the stomach for all this nonsense. You both own it.” She slapped a hand on the envelope. “And I got this here legal document to prove it.”
“What?” Trent and Shelby said at the same time and gave each other quick glances, as if they were opponents in a ring.
“But you told me I owned the—” Trent plowed a hand through his hair. “Goddammit, Violet.”
“Wait.” Shelby rose. “You told me I owned the Eager Beaver.”
“I know what I said.” She looked from one to the other. “I ain’t senile.”
“You sure about that?” Trent muttered something else but Shelby couldn’t hear it.
She was too angry with Violet. “Trent warned me about you, and I didn’t listen. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Outwardly she tried to look calm, but her voice was shaking like crazy. “How your meddling—”
Suddenly Trent was behind her, pulling her back against his strong chest, whispering, “It’s okay, honey. We’ll straighten things out.”
She spun out of his grip. “How are we going to work things out when you want to pack me up and send me back to Donald?”
“What? I never said—”
Violet got to her feet. “Be mad as polecats at me. Not each other,” she said. “I was young when they named me trustee, just a foolish girl. Hell, I’ve outlived the lawyer who drew up the paperwork. Had to deal with his grandson who took over. Explaining to that young upstart what needed doing ’bout gave me a stroke. But now everything’s put to right. Harold and Edgar shoulda—” Her voice cracked. “Your two great-granddaddies were too stubborn for their own damn good.” Without looking at either of them, she slid the envelope across the table. “Here’s the deed. Both Kimball and Foster names are on it. So, figure it out.”
She turned and left the kitchen without another word.
“I have no idea what just happened,” Shelby said.
Trent shrugged. “I’m clueless, remember?”
She looked down, not ready to admit to anything until she understood.
“One of the things I really, really love about you is that you aren’t afraid to talk,” Shelby said, then raised her head and met his gaze.
“I haven’t always been that way,” he admitted without wavering. “But I’m trying.” He quietly cleared his throat. “Shelby, I don’t want you to go back to Denver. I honestly don’t understand how you got that idea. Jesus, it’s the last thing in the world I want.”
“But you said if I decided to go back you wouldn’t try to stop me.”
“I did say that.” Trent nodded once. “When Donald showed up and I thought you might still have feelings for him. I—I don’t know. I wanted to kick his ass all the way back to Colorado.”
He sighed. “You are a smart, capable woman and you know better than anyone what’s best for you. Now, if you did decide to leave, I’d like to think I’d keep my word and let you go like a real gentleman. But the way I feel about you? There’s no telling what I’d do to keep you.”
She stared at him, shaking her head, stunned silent not by the words so much as the way he said them. Okay, so he hadn’t used the L word. It came hard to some people. If he needed time, she was willing to wait. Because this was the man she’d dreamed about long before they’d met. So she’d be brave. Be the first to say it...
“Want to know what I really, really love about you?” he asked, his eyes dark with emotion.
She could only nod.
“Pretty near everything,” he said, pulling her into his arms, where he kissed her for a very long time.
Epilogue
Eight months later
LYING ON HER SIDE, Trent’s warm, naked body pressed against her back, Shelby squinted blearily at the bedside clock. “Please tell me it’s not seven thirty.”
His arm tightened possessively around her. “It’s not seven thirty,” he murmured into her hair, then kissed the side of her neck.
“Oh, good.” Smiling, she turned over. They both shifted so that her breasts pressed against his chest and they could look into each other’s eyes. “You’ve been awake for a while,” she said, feeling something hard nudging her tummy.
“Not too long.” He brushed the hair away from her face and gave her that special smile reserved for
her alone. “I have an idea.”
“Which is...?”
“Let’s take the day off.”
“Really?” It was the middle of spring and they still had so much to do in the three weeks before the two horses he’d been hired to train arrived. “Are you sure you mean the whole day? Or were you thinking we should stay in bed awhile longer?” Just to make her point, she rubbed against his erection.
“Both.” He scooped her into his arms and rolled over so that she was lying on top of him. “How about it?” he asked, leisurely stroking her back.
Shelby grinned. “What did you have in mind?”
“Now, I know you can guess the first part.”
She laughed, and Trent joined in.
“So,” she said, nudging him again right where it counted. “What’s the second part?”
“We need to give Violet her present. She’s gonna try to hide out in that old trailer of hers, so we’ll need to double-team her.”
“Once she learns she can watch Duck Dynasty on her new smartphone, she won’t give us any grief.”
“Of course she will.” He chuckled. “Just not for too long. Okay, so after, we could go to Kalispell for corned beef hash at the Knead Cafe, then drop off your necklaces at the Noice, go by the hardware store, get married, see if we can get in for the sunset champagne deal at the Conrad—”
“Wait.” Shelby sat up, the covers falling down around her waist, and his gaze dropped to her naked breasts. “What was that last thing?”
“The hardware store?”
She socked him in the arm.
Trent grinned, looking her in the eye again. “Okay, okay. I thought maybe you’d like to, you know, get married. But if you’d rather not—”
“Wait.”
“Again?”
She flopped down next to him so they were eye to eye. “We don’t have a license. Or a certified copy of your divorce decree.”
He gave her an innocent look. “Well, to tell you the truth, we have both of those... Hey, wait. How’d you know I needed a certified copy of my divorce decree?”
Harlequin Blaze June 2015 Box Set: Midnight ThunderFevered NightsCome On OverTriple Time Page 56