He didn’t know what to do next. Amy had gotten pregnant—or maybe not. She’d lost the baby—or maybe not. Because how can you lose something that never was?
He’d known she was miserable that day, known she regretted running away with him. She’d had such big plans for herself and there she was, a not-pregnant married woman who wasn’t going to go to college, after all.
As he’d watched the tears tracking down her cheeks that July afternoon, Derek felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He and Jack Wainwright agreed on one thing, at least: that run-down motel wasn’t good enough for Amy.
And what did Derek think he was going to do next? Move his bride into the bunkhouse with him at the Circle D? Or into the main house where his parents lived? Damn, but the truth he faced then was the hardest one of all.
He’d yet to get a real start in life and would need to depend on his family to help support her. And she? Amy deserved the best. With the baby gone, well, why shouldn’t she have the future she’d always planned on? His pride had felt frayed raw at all he couldn’t give her.
Now, in the low light of the lantern, she softly accused, “When my dad asked me to come home with him, you said I should go.”
He wasn’t about to try to make her see how he’d really felt. Better to just confirm what she already knew. “That’s right. It’s what I said.”
“I wondered then if you would be relieved to get rid of me...” She’d had her dad wait outside and she led Derek into their little room. “I did tell you that I loved you.”
He could reassure her on that point, at least. “I know you did. I’ll never forget that you did.”
“I said I did want my education, but couldn’t we find a way to be husband and wife, and for me to go to CU?”
“Listen. All I felt then was that I was holding you back. I looked in those big eyes of yours and I saw that you needed to be free to live your bright future without being tied down to a guy who couldn’t even support you.”
“But I wanted to be with you.”
“Don’t.” He sat up. “You wanted the future you deserved. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She shook her head at him. “Oh, Derek—”
“It wasn’t going to work.”
“But if we—”
“No. Uh-uh. We needed to let go.”
She accused, “That day, you said it was all a big mistake.”
“And it was, wasn’t it? I mean, there was no baby, or the baby was lost. Whichever it was, we’d just run off and gotten married without thinking things over.”
“You said you didn’t really want to be married, anyway.”
“Yeah, Amy. I did. That’s what I said.” It was a lie, but it was way too late to tell her that now.
She sat up straighter and tossed her ponytail, defiant, more than a little bit angry. “So, I agreed with you. I said we’d made a mistake and you were right, we just needed to put it behind us. That was when you said I should get my stuff and go with my dad. I threw my ring at you.” Her slim shoulders drooped. “I just want you to know I’ve always regretted doing that. I did love that ring. And you. Oh, Derek, I loved you so much. I’m so sorry that I—”
“Stop.” He couldn’t stand how he’d hurt her, how they’d hurt each other. “It’s okay.” He knew he shouldn’t, but he reached out anyway. He curled a hand around the back of her neck and drew her close.
“Derek.” She sagged against him, wrapped her soft arms around him. He breathed in the scent of her, so sweet, so right.
“I’m sorry, too,” he whispered. “About all of it.” He stroked the silky hair pulled tight at her temple. There were things he shouldn’t say. But he had to let at least a little of the truth shine through. “You were everything to me.”
“Oh, Derek. And you were, to me.”
He took her face between his hands. “We can’t go back and do it over. And even if we could, who’s to say how it might have turned out? We both had a lot of growing up to do.”
Her gaze searched his. “We should have tried. We might have made it.”
He gave her ponytail a teasing little tug. “We’re never going to know what might have happened.”
She pressed her lips together, sniffled just a little—and smiled. “Yeah. You’re right. I know you are. And I’m glad. That we talked about it. I mean, there is no blame here. Things turned out for the best, don’t you think?”
What could he say to that, except, “Absolutely.”
“And we’re over it.”
He never would be, not really. But what good would it do either of them to admit that now? “Yeah, we are.”
The moment stretched out. She gazed up at him, all soft and trusting. How could he stop himself?
He didn’t want to stop himself.
He lowered his mouth just enough to brush hers.
Heaven. Kissing Amy was heaven.
Not in years and years had he dared to imagine that someday he would kiss her again.
With a sweet, hungry cry, she surged up onto her knees and slid her arms more firmly around him. She tasted so good, opening to him. Inviting him inside.
He dipped his tongue into all that sweetness and she moaned against his mouth.
More. The word thrummed through his blood. He wanted more of her. He felt sweet desire and a longing so deep—for all that they’d had. All that was lost.
All that he should have sense enough to realize would never be again.
They’d been kids, innocent. Trusting.
Now they were all grown-up. She had her life in Boulder and she would go back to it as soon as Eva married Luke.
The past was just that: done. Over. Gone.
And it needed to stay gone.
With way more regret than he should have allowed himself, he lifted his mouth from hers.
Her eyes slowly opened. She gazed up at him, unspeaking, her expression kind of dreamy. He could have sat there just looking at her forever.
But really, he’d been cradling her beautiful face for much too long. He let his hands drop away.
She sank back on her folded knees, coming to rest on her heels. “Well. That was...unexpected.”
“Just a kiss,” he said, and way too gruffly.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah. Just a kiss.”
He saw questions in her eyes. “What? Go ahead and ask.”
“You sure?”
“How can I answer until you ask me the question?”
“It’s just that I always wondered. Do you still have my ring?”
He shrugged, a lying shrug. But it was better that way. “What can I tell you? I don’t remember what I did with it.”
“Oh, God.” With a soft groan, she covered her face with her palms. And then she slanted him an embarrassed glance. “I am hopeless. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” For another long stretch of seconds, they just looked at each other. He broke the silence. “It’s after eleven. We should probably call it a night.”
“Yeah.”
They gathered up the remains of their picnic, piled it all in the basket and folded up the blanket. She stuck her big phone in a pocket of her jeans and carried the lantern, lighting their way as they returned to the house and his waiting truck. When they got there, he put the blanket and basket in on the passenger side. She handed him the lantern. He switched it off and set it in the truck, too.
Finally, he shut the door and turned to her.
Luke and Eva had apparently come home and they’d left the porch light on. Amy and Derek stood close together, just beyond the golden circle of light.
“It’s meant a lot to me,” she said, her eyes so steady, holding his, “the things we said tonight.”
“To me, too.”
“I feel better about everything. Better about us.”
“So do I.”
She sank her pretty teeth into her lower lip, glanced away and then back. “I just want you to know that I’m not trying to get anything started.”
“It could never go anywhere.”
He wanted only to reach for her again, to claim those soft lips one more time. “You’re right,” he said, and kept his hands to himself. “But about Monday...”
“Yeah?” Did she sound a little breathless?
Pleasure flowed through him. She might talk about how what they’d had was long over, how they’d get no second chances. But the look in her eyes said otherwise. He tried not to smile. “I’ll be at the saddlery all day.”
She drew a sharp little breath that sounded a lot like anticipation. “I could meet you there when I get back from shopping in Kalispell. Say at five? You could give me a tour, show me some of your work.”
“Five is good. And after the tour, we’ll go on out to Maverick Manor for that burger I promised you. You can see the venue, the main meeting room we’ll be using and the smaller adjoining room where I thought we would set up the casino.”
“Another non-date, right?” she teased, the left corner of her too-damn-kissable mouth hitching up just a fraction, a cute dimple tucking itself into her soft cheek.
“Yep. ’Cause you and me, we aren’t getting anything started.”
“Oh, no, we are not.”
“We’re firmly in the friend zone.”
“Friends,” she repeated. “I’m all for that.”
He went around to the driver’s side and climbed in. She followed, standing back a little as he turned the engine over. He leaned out the window to tip his hat at her. “’Night, Miss Wainwright.”
Her smile bloomed full out. “You are so bad, Derek Dalton.”
He gave her a wave and got the hell out of there before he threw all his good intentions out the window, jumped from the truck and showed her just how bad he could be.
* * *
Sunday morning, Eva made waffles. When Amy came downstairs, Luke and Bailey were already at the table, chowing down on the delicious food—which, Amy eagerly observed, included fresh fruit and whipped cream and pure maple syrup.
Bailey lived in one of Sunshine Farm’s seven cabins, which Rob Stockton, the family patriarch, had built years ago in hopes that his children might stay to raise their own kids on the family homestead. Though Bailey liked his privacy, he often came to the main house to eat. Nobody with a pulse could resist Eva’s cooking. Not even a gruff, independent man like Bailey Stockton.
Eva, at the waffle iron, glanced over her shoulder when Amy entered the kitchen. “Pour yourself some coffee,” she commanded with a radiant smile, secure in her role as queen of the kitchen. “And have a seat. Your breakfast is almost ready.”
Amy savored the excellent coffee and sighed in delight when Eva slid a golden, perfect waffle in front of her. “Eva, you are a goddess of the culinary arts and I love you with all of my heart.” Laughing, Eva pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. Amy frowned at her. “Where’s yours?”
“I already ate. What’s up for you today?”
“Mostly, I’ll be upstairs working—and ordering a bunch of stuff online for the bachelor party.”
Eva braced her elbow on the table, propped her chin on her hand and remarked with overplayed innocence, “We saw Derek’s truck out in front when we got home last night.”
Amy ate an amazing bite of waffle, fresh peaches and whipped cream, after which she gave her friend a look of great patience. “We took a meeting in a nice, grassy spot not that far from the barn. It was a very productive meeting, so productive that I actually think we’ve got this party under control.”
Lazily, Eva drew a heart on the table with her index finger. “It was a very long meeting.” She stretched out the word long until it had about ten syllables in it. “I didn’t hear that truck of his leave until after eleven.”
“Big party. Lots of planning to do.”
Eva glanced across at the men.
Luke met his fiancée’s eyes and stood as though on cue. “Come on, Bailey, let’s get after it.”
Bailey gulped down a last sip of coffee and rose, too. They carried their plates to the sink and went out the back door.
Eva got up, poured herself some coffee and topped off Amy’s cup. Then she sat back down again. “I know you really loved him. And he really loved you. And I have to say, the chemistry between you two? Still off the charts.”
“Eva, don’t exaggerate.”
“I’m not. I saw the way you looked at each other Friday night at the Ace in the Hole. And when you were dancing with him?” She made a big show of fanning herself. “It’s like you were the only two people in the place.”
Amy licked a dab of whipped cream from her upper lip, sipped more coffee—and reminded herself that Eva didn’t need to know all the secrets that were better left safely in the past. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, please. I don’t think so.”
“Derek and I are friends, that’s all. Casual friends.”
Eva leaned close and spoke softly. “All I’m saying is, maybe give it a chance, you know? Anything might happen. But you have to be open. You have to be ready to let love in.”
“I don’t think so.”
Eva shook a finger at her. “Wrong attitude.”
“No. We agreed we weren’t going to get anything started.”
“We?”
“Eva, please. You know who. Derek and I.”
“When, last night?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, Amy.” Eva fluttered her eyelashes. “You and I both know an agreement like that is just made to be broken.”
Chapter Four
After spending much of Sunday ordering party supplies, Amy headed for Kalispell on Monday morning. By four thirty, she’d been to six different stores that sold party supplies, equipment and games—four in Kalispell and two in nearby Columbia Falls. The back of her Audi Q5 was piled high with shopping bags.
She headed for Rust Creek Falls to meet Derek, feeling really good about all she’d accomplished since their meeting by lantern-light Saturday night.
True, the closer she got to seeing him again, the more anxious she felt—an anticipatory sort of anxiousness, complete with flutters in her tummy and a suddenly racing heart. By the time she parked in a space in front of the tin-roofed building with the long wooden porch and the CT Saddles sign across the front, she was a bundle of nerves, but in a giddy kind of way.
And then she saw Derek, in jeans, brown boots and a black T-shirt, looking like every red-blooded girl’s fantasy cowboy, waiting on the porch beneath the sign. He came down the steps and pulled her door open for her.
“Nice car.” He offered his hand.
She took it and a hot little thrill shivered up her arm. Friends, she reminded herself resolutely. We are friends. “Thank you.” She stepped out.
He shut the door and peeked in the back window. “Looks like you raided every party store in the state of Montana.”
“Stick with me.” She smoothed her skinny jeans, a nervous gesture and totally unnecessary. Skinny jeans were much too snug to wrinkle. “I know how to shop.”
He laughed, the sound deep and free. Easy.
She thought about what Eva had said, that she should be open, give love a chance—okay, maybe not love. That was in the past.
But she did definitely feel the zing of attraction every time she saw him. Being open to whatever might happen, well, that couldn’t be wrong, could it?
He leaned close and the flutters in her tummy intensified. “You smell like wildflowers. And you’ve got a secret kind of smile on your face. What’s going on in that big brain of yours, anyway?”
She nudged him with a playful elbow. “I’m all about the party plans. You should see the decorations I got for the casino. Everything in red, white and black. Giant dice stacked at the door. Straw cowboy hats to go with the whole Western theme.”
“That secret smile is about party plans?”
“Well, yeah, and seeing what goes on at CT Saddles—o
h, and that burger you promised me. I need that soon. All the shopping has given me an appetite.”
Her hair was loose. He guided a stray curl back over her shoulder, his finger lightly brushing the side of her neck, stirring up lovely, shivery sensations.
Just friends, she told herself yet again, and tried to believe it.
His finger skated down her arm, causing her nerve endings to spark and flare as it went. He caught her hand.
It felt so right, his touch.
Warm and rough and protective and tender.
And really, she needed not to get carried away.
“Come on inside,” he said, and pulled her toward the steps.
* * *
He showed her his worktables—a butcher block–topped one for laying out patterns and cutting leather, with a huge array of tools on a long, moveable rack overhead. And another for tooling, with a solid slate top mounted on two-by-fours, so the surface had no give in it when he hit the leather to punch in his designs. His hole punches, mauls, chisels and stamps were waiting in a series of racks all around, easy to reach as he worked.
He introduced her to a dark-haired boy in his teens. “This is Ned Faraday. He’s working with us for the summer.”
Ned set aside the broom he’d been sweeping up scraps with and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said shyly.
“You planning on being a saddle-maker?” she asked him.
“Yes, I am. I like the work...and it keeps me out of trouble.” He kind of mumbled that last.
He seemed like a great kid. She couldn’t resist asking, “You get in trouble a lot, Ned?”
“Used to,” he replied, and got to work with the broom again.
Derek clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s after five. You can go ahead and take off now.”
“Monday, same as usual?” Ned asked eagerly. Apparently, he loved his job.
“Yeah. See you at nine.” As he spoke to Ned, Derek put a hand to the small of Amy’s back, a sweetly proprietary gesture that made her feel catered to, cared for. Really, she needed to watch herself or she’d be head-over-heels for the guy all over again. He leaned close. His warm breath kissed her ear. “Let me show you a couple of my projects.” He guided her across the room to the rows of saddletrees.
A Maverick to [Re]Marry Page 5