by Liz Isaacson
He set the dishes on the counter and faced her. “Might as well say this right now. I have a lot of money.” He didn’t want to push her away, not right when they were just starting out. But he figured he might as well be honest with her.
“My last girlfriend cared more about the bank account than me.” Wow, the words burned his throat, more than he thought they should after all this time.
“I have my own bank account,” Amanda said coolly. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
All the tension in the house seemed to leak right out of the roof, and Finn smiled. “Thank you. I happen to think soup is an acceptable meal any time of year, too.”
Amanda blinked, and then she burst out laughing, and it had been a long time since Finn had experienced that level of happiness at such a simple thing.
Amanda ran out to her car to get the tortilla strips, and Finn watched the four dogs play together in the living room. “This is crazy, right?” he whispered to himself, not really expecting anyone to answer.
He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling, through it, hoping to gaze right into heaven itself. “Please guide me,” he prayed, not sure how to ask for more than that when it came to Amanda.
The sermon that day had been about loving others, and Finn had enjoyed the choir numbers, the flow of people around him, and the idea that he wouldn’t be spending Sunday alone.
Amanda returned, and she bustled around his kitchen as easily as if she lived there. She served the soup with a smile, and Finn couldn’t help smiling back. He really liked her presence here, and he wondered how far he’d go to keep her with him.
Would she even consider moving to Dog Valley? Surely she had a nice place in Coral Canyon too.
Thinking way too far down the line, he told himself, picking up a spoon. “So tell me,” he said. “What do you spend your time doing?”
“Oh, a little of this and a little of that,” she said airily. Finn detected a hint of falseness in her voice, but she ducked her head, that dark hair falling between them. He wasn’t sure how to press her on the subject if she didn’t want to talk about it, and she moved the conversation to something else before he could figure it out.
She talked about her boys—who were all grown men now. In fact, Finn was only a dozen years older than Graham—and her home. She talked about her husband’s energy company, and Finn filled her in on his brief marriage and divorce.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Amanda said, the sky starting to darken. They’d been sitting on the back porch since lunchtime, and Finn needed to get out and check on all his animals.
“It’s okay,” Finn said, standing up. “You want to walk around the farm a bit? I need to go check on the horses. Bring them in for the night.”
A blip of apprehension crossed her pretty face, and she ran her hands up her arms. “I don’t think so. I should get on home.” She smiled at him. “I didn’t talk too much today, did I?” She looked really worried about it, and Finn wanted to erase that from her face. From her whole life.
“You talked a normal amount today,” he said.
“It’s just that I know I talked too much last night, and I didn’t want to do that today.”
Finn felt like he’d told her just about everything about him. At least all the surface things. The things she’d find on the Internet if she went looking. But he didn’t think she would.
“I enjoyed last night and today,” he said, moving back over to her. “Thanks for driving all the way out here.” She smiled as he approached, and he brushed his lips along her temple. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
He whistled and the dogs perked up from where they’d settled in the shade of the trees in the backyard. “C’mon, boys,” he said to them. “Time to get to work.”
Beans ran up the steps, and Amanda scooped the little dog into her arms. He’d already carried everything of hers out to her luxury SUV, and she waved one last time before he turned and walked down the steps.
He told himself not to look back. Not even once. And he didn’t.
In the gathering darkness, he fed the chickens and gathered in all the horses from their pastures. All but the two most stubborn ones stood at the doors already, giving him a look like Where have you been?
“Sorry, guys,” he said to them. “There was a woman here. Did you hear her laughing?” Finn couldn’t get over the fact that Amanda had come to Dog Valley to feed him lunch.
At the same time, Finn felt a resistance in himself he didn’t understand. He’d never been one to fall in love quickly, and in fact, he’d only loved a couple of other women in the past. He knew Amanda had her own bank account, and that was a relief.
So he put his head down and got the work done, returning to the house by the light of the flashlight on his phone. Inside, he realized he’d missed several texts, and it seemed like the whole Whittaker family had decided to text him while he took care of the essentials on the farm. Tomorrow, he’d have a couple of extra hours of work that he hadn’t done that night, but everyone was fed and watered, and that was all that mattered.
His house felt emptier than it had in a long while, and he tried to ignore it as he read Graham’s texts.
How’s it going with my mom? I told you I had someone perfect for you.
The pressure of dating one of his friend’s mother’s smothered Finn, and he didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t normally kiss and tell, or talk about his relationships, period. But he’d be seeing Graham and Laney tomorrow, as he went to pick up feed for his chickens and a couple of saddles she’d custom-made for him.
I’ll see you tomorrow, Finn texted to his friend, unsure of what he’d say in person. It felt awkward, and once again, Finn had the distinct feeling that if he’d known the blind date would’ve been with Graham’s mother, he’d have said no.
Beau had also texted, wondering if his mother was still out there or not. He’d texted three times, the last one saying, Never mind. I got in touch with her. Sorry, Finn.
He wasn’t sure why Beau was apologizing, and foolishness rushed through Finn. Amanda’s boys clearly loved her and relied on her, and he felt guilty taking her from them for the whole afternoon. She’d never said anything about spending time with him over them, but he could put two and two together.
He’d used Beau’s brains and lawyer services to incorporate his stables years ago, and they’d stayed in touch since. He’d watched the other man fall in love, retreat to Whiskey Mountain Lodge, and then meet someone else. Fall in love again. Get married and have a baby. It had been Beau that had introduced Finn to Graham and Laney, and he liked those Whittaker men.
And their mother.
He shook his head, trying to get the thoughts out of it. Life was much simpler when he was just feeding horses and throwing a ball for his dogs. He liked weeding the flowerbeds and pruning the roses. He enjoyed clipping the grass and training horses and checking on the hay in the fields.
There was always work to do, which was just fine with Finn. He certainly didn’t like being idle, and he’d found a way to fill his life with good things.
Too bad he still felt empty most of the time.
And Amanda had changed that. In one twenty-four-hour period, she’d changed all of that.
“Go slow,” he told himself as he closed the door behind Chocolate. “Be careful.” He needed to warn himself so he didn’t end up with another broken heart.
Amanda had also texted, and she’d said, I had a great time today.
Nothing else.
Finn knew how to respond to that. Me too, he typed out with a smile on his face. All three dogs jumped up on the bed, circled and flopped, and Finn didn’t even tell them to move so he could get the blanket where he liked it.
He just lay down on top of it and gazed up at the ceiling. “Am I doing the right thing?” he asked the Lord, and he waited for an answer.
God had never spoken to him very loudly, and Finn had to listen very carefully to f
ind the answers he needed. He hadn’t always done that, and he’d made some serious errors in the past because of it.
Like breaking up his marriage.
He couldn’t believe the guilt was still there, but it was. Decades later. Holly had moved on. Gotten remarried. He had a good relationship with her and his daughters now. But there had been a few years where he wondered if he’d have to spend a lifetime paying for some decisions. And he’d vowed he would never make another major life decision—like dating a pretty woman and falling in love with her—without listening to the Lord.
Tonight, nothing came, and he closed his eyes and let his breathing even out. Finally, he thought, Call Joann.
He mentally added making a phone call to his oldest daughter to tomorrow’s to-do list and drifted off to sleep with gratitude—and maybe a little trepidation about what Joann would say—in his heart.
Chapter Five
Amanda had an odd combination of frustration, guilt, and appreciation swimming in her. She’d stayed entirely too long at Finn’s, and she knew it.
And now Beau knew it too.
“I’m not sure,” she said, making the turn to leave Dog Valley in her rear-view mirror and head back to Coral Canyon. “Is he throwing up?”
“No,” Beau said, his son still crying in the background. “He just won’t stop crying.”
“Well, that’s not normal,” Amanda said. “Maybe you should bring him down to the emergency room.”
“Lily’s on the phone with Liam.”
“Great,” Amanda said, wondering why Beau had called her four times in the space of five minutes over a crying child. But she’d always been there for her sons, and she wanted that now too. None of her other boyfriends had distracted her from being their mother, and Finn couldn’t either.
He hadn’t. In fact, he wasn’t even her boyfriend. They’d seen each other twice and texted back and forth a little bit.
In her heart, she knew it was more than a little bit, but she didn’t have to admit it out loud. At least not yet.
“We are going to the ER,” Beau said. “Are you on your way back from Dog Valley?”
“Yes,” she said. “Do you want me to meet you there?”
“Liam’s going to meet us at the clinic,” he said, saying something to his wife in a quieter voice. “I’ll call you later, Mom.” Beau hung up before Amanda could say another word, and that frustration washed over her other emotions.
Her sons had become so needy lately. Or maybe she just felt like they were more involved in her personal life than they’d ever been. “I knew this blind date was a mistake.” She shook her head at the landscape around her and reached for her phone. It was almost dead, and if she had car trouble on this lonely stretch of road, she’d need to call for help.
Finn was everything she wanted in a man—except for one major thing. He was a cowboy, and Amanda was not a fan of cowboys.
She’d never said a word to her sons about it, as they all swaggered around town in their cowboy hats and boots. Graham had especially taken to the ranch lifestyle, and most of his belt buckles were bigger than his head.
Beau had gone more mountain man, with his full beard and mustache and letting his hair grow out. Lily had tamed him somewhat, but he still looked like a great big teddy bear cowboy.
Andrew was the most clean-cut because of his job at Springside Energy, her husband’s company. But he still wore his cowboy hat when he wasn’t working, and he and Becca had signed up for horseback riding lessons at the Buttars Stables. Even Chrissy rode, and Amanda could see them all becoming more and more country as the months passed.
Which was fine. She’d come from the city when she’d married Ron and she’d never regretted it. Not even for a moment. Okay, fine, maybe in the middle of January, there were times she wished she still lived in Dallas.
“Destined for a cowboy,” she muttered to herself as her phone rang again. Graham’s name sat on the screen this time, and Amanda tapped the console in front of her to connect the Bluetooth to her speakers.
“Hey, Mom,” he said.
“Hiya, baby,” she said, falling back to her Texas roots. It was warmer there than in Wyoming, but maybe she was destined for a cowboy romance. She’d met Ronald Whittaker the month she’d graduated high school, and he’d whisked her off to the mountains of Wyoming a mere six months later. He was older than her, had already finished college, and had a job at an oil company just outside of Jackson Hole.
“Are you listening to me?” Graham asked, and Amanda blinked at the darkness in front of her.
“No, sorry.”
“Ah, so you and Finn are getting along great.”
“I barely know the man,” Amanda said, having defended herself several times over the years, usually to Andrew, about the men she dated. “I’m old. We do everything slow.”
Graham laughed, but it was short-lived. “Also,” Amanda said. “Which part of no cowboys did you not understand?”
“I didn’t get that memo,” he said coolly. “You must’ve told Beau that.”
“No,” she said, practically yelling the word. “I know I told both of you.”
“He wasn’t wearing a hat at dinner, was he?” Graham asked, as if he’d planned this conversation.
“No,” Amanda said through her teeth, though she wasn’t really mad.
“And what about today? Was he wearing a cowboy hat?”
“No.”
“Cowboy boots?”
“No, but—”
“Did he have antlers hanging in his house?”
Amanda laughed, finally conceding the point to Graham. “No, but Graham. That man is as cowboy as they come. He’s from a racehorse family.”
“And we don’t like racehorses?” Graham asked. “Because I definitely did not get that memo.”
Amanda sighed. “I don’t know what I don’t like.”
“So we don’t like Finn.”
“Would you stop saying we?” Amanda asked. “Last time I checked, you weren’t there this afternoon.” And that was a very good thing, as she’d held Finn’s hand and flirted with him shamelessly. She was definitely interested in him, and for some reason that rubbed her the wrong way.
“Mom, what don’t you like about him?” Graham was all business now, the concern in his voice nice to hear for a mother.
“I don’t know.”
Her son let a few seconds of silence go by, and then he said, “Why don’t you swing up to the ranch? Laney and Bailey made cookies and cream ice cream tonight, and there’s tons of leftovers.”
“I don’t think so,” Amanda said, feeling tired way down in her bones. “I’ll come up tomorrow night and have some. I’m tired.”
“Okay,” he said. “But, Mom, you’d tell me to figure out what I didn’t like or what I wanted, and do something about it.”
“Yeah,” she said, her thoughts drifting again. “Thanks, sweetie.” She hung up, her fingers returning to the wheel to grip it tightly.
What didn’t she like about Finn?
He was too much like Ronald.
The idea sat there, swirling softly at first. Then it became a living, breathing thing, completely consuming her mind.
She didn’t want another rich cowboy husband. She’d had one of those. Yes, she’d been happy, but she’d learned early in her marriage to make her own way. Do what she wanted. Cook dinner for her and the kids. Ron didn’t come home on time for years, and Amanda had learned how to make her own happiness. Just her and the boys.
And that was all she had left.
She had no idea what it took to train a racehorse, but she was betting Finn couldn’t spend every afternoon and evening on the deck with her. She hadn’t wanted to go out onto his farm with him, because she didn’t particularly like animals bigger than her—or chickens—and she didn’t want him to know of her distaste for them.
“Maybe this isn’t going to be a match,” she admitted to herself as she pulled into her driveway. She disliked the defeated tone of her voice
—and the figure rising from the front steps. The motion of her car activated the lights, and the front of the house was suddenly bathed in white lights that told her exactly who was waiting for her.
“Ryder.” She parked in the garage and got out of the SUV, her heart firing an extra beat every other second. “Hey,” she said, rounding the corner toward the front of the house. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t want to break up,” he said, swiping his hand through his hair. “And I just thought…I don’t know. I thought we could talk.”
He approached her, his dark eyes catching the light and reflecting it back to her. He looked apprehensive and thoughtful, qualities she normally admired. Amanda found him handsome with all his dark hair and that scruffy beard.
But as she stood there and let him take her hand in his, she knew they couldn’t get back together.
“Ryder,” she said with a sigh. “I’m—I just—nothing’s changed.” She squeezed his fingers. “When you hold my hand, it’s just…I don’t feel a spark there.”
And wow, there had been a whole fireworks show with Finn. Her heart rate accelerated just thinking about him.
“I feel a spark, though,” Ryder said.
Amanda didn’t want to be cruel. She felt like she’d already been blunt and somewhat unkind as it was. She gently removed her hand from his and backtracked to the car to let Beans out. “Go to the door,” she told the dog, following her up the steps and opening the back door for the pup to run inside.
She turned to find Ryder holding the pot of leftover soup. “How are things at Whiskey Mountain Lodge?” he asked.
Amanda blocked him from coming up the steps. “Ryder,” she said firmly as she took the pot from him. “You’re not coming inside. We’re not going to get back together.”
His dark eyes stormed at her. “Why not?”
Had he not heard her a moment ago? “I didn’t go to Whiskey Mountain Lodge today,” she said. “I went to lunch with someone else. A man.”
Ryder blinked, confusion entering his expression now. “You’re seeing someone else? Already?”