The song faded, then another one began. She recognized it, although she didn’t recall the title. Something about an old flame burning bright. Ty winced visibly and dropped his hands to his side.
“Thanks for the dance,” he mumbled, and left the floor.
Randi watched him go. She wanted to run after him and apologize, but it was too late for that. Talk about blowing it.
She moved to the edge of the dance floor and glanced at the crowd. Families and friends chatted together. For the first time since arriving, she felt out of place. Suddenly that old phrase—alone in a crowd—made sense to her.
She was a long way from home, and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one in Grand Springs was missing her tonight. Certainly not Hal. In the past couple of weeks she’d decided they hadn’t even been friends, let alone in love.
“May I?”
She didn’t have to look at the speaker to know he was Brady. She shivered in anticipation, then turned toward him. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
He took her in his arms. She tried not to notice how every nerve cell in her body instantly went on alert. It wasn’t fair. She’d danced with nearly a dozen men tonight. Some of them, like Ty, had been very good-looking. Most had been charming. And not one of them had made her feel the way Brady did.
He held her gently, not pulling her too close. Which almost made her laugh, because she would enjoy being hauled up against his chest. She would even like being kissed senselessly. Was he thinking about that, too? Was he remembering their kiss, the passion flaring between them, the heat, the—“What do you think of our country dance?” he asked.
Her fantasies popped like a balloon pricked by a needle. So much for him remembering anything about that night.
“It’s fun,” she said. “Everyone has been really nice. The guys have all danced with me. I tried to get Ty to admit there was a conspiracy, but he denied it.”
“There isn’t as far as I know.” He smiled. “Dancing with you is hardly tough duty.”
She looked up at the dimple in his left cheek and thought about swooning. Unfortunately, she’d never swooned in her life and didn’t know how to go about doing it. She suspected Brady wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. If the man had a single clue as to what he did to her he would take off for the hills.
A couple in their early sixties moved next to them. The wife asked Brady about his parents. He answered, then the older couple moved off.
“This is very different from where I grew up,” she said. “I had dance lessons for three years and I hated every one of them. The only way my mom got me to go was to promise me I could spend two hours riding my horse for every hour I went to dance class.” She frowned. “All those uncomfortable silences when we were dancing. Twelve- and thirteen-year-old boys aren’t exactly thrilled about the experience, either. At least we had that in common.”
“So you were part of the upper crust of society?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“Not exactly. Our town wasn’t big enough to have a crust, although my mother is constantly in search of one. My dad—” She stopped, remembering her father and missing him. “He was great. I was a daddy’s girl, of course.”
Brown eyes twinkled at her. “Of course.”
The song ended and another began. Brady didn’t release her and she didn’t indicate she wanted to be let go. If it were up to her, she would spend the night in his arms.
“My father always believed in me, no matter how much I messed things up.”
“That’s what fathers do,” he said.
“I know, and mine was one of the best. The only bad part was, he never made me try to fix things on my own. I learned to depend on him to always get me out of trouble. That works great when you’re ten, but it’s a less attractive trait at twenty.”
Music and laughter surrounded them. They turned and the room spun. Randi wondered if it was safe to talk about her past like this. But it had been so long since she’d had someone to talk to. Especially someone she liked and respected. She knew she could trust Brady. Besides, she wasn’t telling him anything that would allow him to locate her family.
“My mother was completely different,” she went on. “She saw me as her burden in life. A daughter who was a tomboy and completely uninterested in doing the socially correct thing.”
“You have a brother, right?”
“You remembered.” She smiled. “Noah. He’s wonderful. A doctor. Handsome, charming. Everything I’m not. I suppose I should hate him, but I don’t. When Dad died, Noah was really there for me.”
Brady’s hand tightened on her waist, drawing her closer. She went willingly. His embrace comforted, as did his strength.
“You miss your father.”
“All the time. I want to make him proud of me.”
“He already is.”
Randi wasn’t so sure. Her father wouldn’t be proud of the way she’d handled things with Hal. One of these days she was going to have to make some decisions about that situation. She couldn’t hide out forever. She would have to go back and explain things. But what about the men with those guns? Were they still after her? Why had they threatened her in the first place? What—Brady shook her gently. “Rita, come back to me.”
“Huh? Oh.” She’d been a thousand smiles away…or at least a few hundred. “Sorry.”
“Let me guess. You were thinking about another guy, right?”
Randi stumbled a step. “Not really.”
“Liar.” His smile never faltered, but she thought she saw disappointment flicker in his eyes. At least, she hoped it was disappointment.
“No, it’s not like that,” she told him. “Okay, I was thinking about someone, but it’s not what you think.”
“What is it?”
They were at the far end of the room. Brady moved them away from the dancers and into the corner. Randi would have preferred to keep dancing. Not because she didn’t want to talk about this, but because while they were dancing he held her in his arms. As he drew them to a stop, he released her. She twisted her hands together in front of her waist and tried not to feel rejected.
“There was this guy back home. We went out for a while. The thing is, I can’t figure out why. My mother pressured me to see him. Hal’s involved in politics and will probably be mayor some day like his mother. There was even talk of the state legislature.” She shrugged. “It’s not really my thing. Anyway, we dated, and, I don’t know, one day we were engaged.”
Brady withdrew. He didn’t move away, but she felt him pull back all the same. “Are you still engaged?” Ice sharpened the edges of his tone.
“No.” Surely Hal would consider the engagement broken when she’d run off. If he didn’t, she would tell him, just as soon as she got back to town. “The thing is, I never loved him. I’m not sure I liked him.” She drew in a deep breath and met Brady’s unreadable gaze. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. To figure things out. You know, find out a purpose and all that.”
“You’re young,” he said easily. “That comes with time.”
“Brady!” She put her hands on her hips. “Haven’t we had this conversation already? I’m not a child. Why do you insist on thinking that I am?” Hadn’t their time together convinced him she was very much a woman?
Before he could answer, McGregor came up. “Well, lass, they’re playing a two-step.” The older man winked. “I suppose you could say it’s our song.”
She glanced at Brady, trying to figure out if she should refuse the farrier’s invitation so they could finish their conversation. He nodded at the Scotsman. “Don’t wear her out. She still has chores in the morning.”
“Oh, I’ll be testin’ her a little, but I promise to return her in nearly the same condition I found her. Come, lassie. Time’s a wastin’.”
She was pulled into McGregor’s enthusiastic embrace and swept around the room. At the end of the dance, a man she didn’t know asked her to dance, then another. Thirty minutes later, when the band took a
break, there was no sign of Brady. Randi excused herself and made her way over to the tables and chairs set up in a side room. A buffet line formed. She ignored it, detouring the crowd to collect a soda from the bar in the corner.
Ziggy and Quinn spotted her and called her over. She smiled and waved but kept on walking until she saw Tex sitting alone. She tapped the chair across from him. “May I?”
“Help yourself.”
She sank onto the wooden seat. “I’m exhausted. All that dancing. I should have taken a longer nap today.”
“You’re having fun. You can sleep when you’re old like me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about age differences right now.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Tex took a sip of his beer.
Randi rubbed the sides of her soda can. “Why isn’t Brady married?”
“You’re going to have to discuss that with him.”
“He won’t tell me.”
“Have you asked him?”
She shook her head. “There’s no polite way to bring that up. At least not with the person involved.”
“I don’t think he’d mind.”
She glanced at Tex. “You could hint about his past.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Her gaze skittered away. “See, this is that awkward part I was talking about.”
The older man chuckled. “I won’t give you specific information, but I might be convinced to whisper a hint or two.”
“Great. I promise to feed Princess and the cats every day for a week.”
“You’re doing that, anyway.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Then, I promise not to stop.”
“Deal.” He thought for a minute. “Brady’s not that complicated a guy. He grew up in a secure home with great parents. Living out on the ranch, he had lots of freedom to roam around. What with ranch chores and all, he learned about responsibility early.”
Randi wondered if she should hum “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” for background music. Talk about the all-American boy.
“His parents were happy together. They’re still very much in love.” Tex glanced around the room. “Not a lot of people can say that.”
She thought about her parents’ strained marriage and agreed. “It’s rare.”
“It’s also a tough act to follow. Brady wants what his folks have. He believes in love, he’s a good man. Even so, mistakes are made.”
What mistakes? But she didn’t ask. There was no point. Tex wouldn’t answer that kind of question. He was too loyal a friend.
“These mistakes,” she said cautiously. “They can make a man not believe anymore.”
“True. Sometimes it’s hard to get back in the saddle…so to speak.” He took another sip of beer. “There was a cowboy Brady knew on the circuit. Donny was a hell of a bull rider. Made it to the finals every year, but he never won. One day he started drinking. Turns out he had a family history of alcoholism and the liquor got a hold of him. Within a year he deteriorated to the point where he was rarely sober. He rode drunk once and nearly killed himself.”
A group of teenagers walked by. The young people nodded respectfully at Tex, then at her. She smiled in return.
“What happened to Donny?”
“When he’d recovered from his injuries, Brady hired him. There was only one rule. No liquor. Donny agreed. Then one day the craving got too strong. He went out into the herd drunk and started a stampede. He lost control of his horse, fell and died.” Tex frowned as if the memories crowded him. “He had no one. No family to mourn him. Just Brady. So Donny was buried in the Jones family plot, and Brady took care of his debts and his things. That’s what he does for people.”
“If he’s busy taking care of everyone, he doesn’t have time to worry about being alone,” she said slowly. “Being the caretaker also allows him to keep his distance. He’s always the father figure.”
Tex raised his eyebrows. “Could be.”
Is that what Brady was doing to her? Always talking about their age difference as a way of separating himself from her? Then, what about their kiss? Somehow that night he hadn’t been able to hold the barriers in place. She’d gotten through. Yet as soon as he could, he put the relationship back on very specific terms, with him acting as mentor.
“Why this interest in Brady?” Tex asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I mean that. I just—” She shrugged. “I think he’s a great guy. And I’m not going to use him,” she added hastily. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I don’t anymore.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I’ve never met anyone like him before. Sometimes I think he’s too good to be true.”
“He’s just a man, with faults like everyone else.”
“And all of us to take care of. Who takes care of him?”
“Good question,” Tex said. “Maybe you’d like to apply for the job.”
Chapter Ten
For the first couple of hours of the dance Brady had managed to avoid torturing himself, but after the musicians’ second break, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He stood behind the lodge, supposedly enjoying the cool evening breeze, but in reality he stared in the open windows and watched Rita dance with other men.
He told himself it didn’t matter who she danced with; it wasn’t his business. He ran through the “she’s just an employee” lecture, followed by a stern talk on how much younger she was. He even spent a couple of minutes telling himself he didn’t like dark curly hair and blue eyes. Then he stopped. He knew he had it bad if he was reduced to lying to himself about the fact that he found Rita attractive.
She was, he acknowledged, very special. And not just her looks. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to work hard and that she was endlessly patient with Ziggy when his stuttering made it nearly impossible to complete a sentence. He enjoyed watching her with the cats, playing with them, talking to them, naming them when she thought he didn’t know. She’d made a place for herself at the ranch. Despite being the only female, she’d managed to defuse any potential trouble by acting like everyone’s sister. Even Tex had taken a shine to her.
But there was no point in letting his hormones race into overdrive. No matter how well she fit in, she wasn’t staying. He’d always known that, and their conversation tonight proved it.
For the first time, she’d shared a little about her past. She’d painted a word picture of a family that while flawed, was still a force in her life. She had a mother and a brother somewhere, waiting for her. She also had an ex-boyfriend.
He grimaced, wishing he didn’t know about Hal. Or the engagement.
Who was this man who had nearly claimed Rita as his wife? Why had she agreed to marry him, then changed her mind? She’d spoken of the relationship as if it had no value to her. Was that because she’d “fallen into it” as she’d claimed, or was it something else?
The music changed. He glanced up and saw the dancers swaying together as a slow song shifted the mood. Rita wasn’t on the floor with anyone. He could go inside and ask her to dance himself, but he knew better. A single dance could be explained—she was his employee and it was polite to ask her. Anything else would imply interest. As if she hadn’t guessed that from the kiss they’d shared.
Still, he wasn’t ready to start anything with her, and he was damn well going to ignore the fact that something may already have started on its own.
“You look like you could use this,” a voice said behind him.
He turned toward the sound and saw Rita standing in the shadows. She held out a plastic glass of beer.
“Thanks. Why aren’t you dancing?”
“No one I wanted to dance with asked me.”
He mulled that over for a second, wondering if it was an invitation. By the time he figured it might be, the song was half over and they couldn’t have made it inside in time. Besides, they were both holding drinks. So instead, he led her to the bench pressed up aga
inst the lodge.
She sank down and sighed. “You’re smart to be out here. This is better than dancing. My feet are sore. I’m not used to wearing high heels.” She slipped off her pumps and wiggled her toes.
Brady clenched his teeth to hold back the offer to rub her feet. It wouldn’t be a good idea. Aside from the fact that it would be inappropriate, he doubted he could touch any part of her without getting aroused.
She leaned back into the far corner of the bench, angling her body toward him. Light spilled out of the window, illuminating her features. Long, dark curls tumbled down her shoulders and back. Her mouth tilted up at the corners, color stained her cheeks. She was lovely and he wanted her. That and a buck would buy him a cup of coffee.
“So, Brady Jones, how come you’re not married?”
He raised his eyebrows.
She laughed. “I know, I know. Talk about an unsubtle opening. However, I would like to point out that you’re the one who is always bringing up the difference in our ages. So what I want to know is how an old man of thirty-three has managed to avoid the delights of matrimony? Why don’t you have a passel of kids running around and making trouble? Where is Ms. Right?”
He angled toward her and rested his ankle on his opposite knee. “I want a wife and a family, but it hasn’t worked out.”
“I suppose it’s tough to meet women on the ranch,” she said. “You should train Princess to collect single ladies instead of cats. Think how convenient that would be. You could have your pick of the litter, so to speak.”
He chuckled. “It’s not that simple. I met a lot of women on the rodeo circuit.”
“Were you wild?”
“I had my moments,” he admitted. “Not that many, but a few.”
“Not one of these buckle bunnies appealed?”
“Where’d you hear that term?”
She batted her eyelashes at him. “I get around. So, you didn’t like any of them?”
“I don’t know. I guess not. My parents are very happy together. They get mad just like any other married couple, but they also still love each other. When I was growing up, I knew their relationship was a priority to them. That was very comforting in a time when a lot of my friends’ parents were getting divorced. The problem is, I don’t want to settle for anything less.”
The Rancher And The RunawayBride: Part 2 Page 6