by Joanna Sims
“I’m worried about you getting such a late start.” Nick had followed her to get Blue from the stables and bring him to her trailer.
“Don’t be.” Dallas waved her hand to brush away his concern. “Blue and I do this all the time.”
Nick had his hands in his front pockets, standing out of the way so she had room to lead Blue in a small circle and then let the quarter horse walk into the trailer. Dallas shut the trailer gate and locked it.
“You’d better git.” She wiped her hands off on her jeans. “They’re gonna take off without you.”
Nick took his hands out of his pockets and put them on either side of her face. He kissed her gently, sweetly, poignantly. “I’m going to miss being with you, Dallas.”
For Dallas, goodbyes were uncomfortable. She’d rather just give a quick wave and be done.
“Text me when you land.” She gave his chest a pat with her hand.
Nick let her go. He slipped on his sunglasses and backed away. “Text me when you pull over tonight.”
Dallas watched Nick while he walked back to his rental car—he gave her one last wave before he got in the Porsche and drove away.
Now that he was gone, the time they had spent together seemed like a dream. This was reality. She was back to being Dallas Dalton, roaming barrel racer.
Dallas put on her cowgirl hat and checked on Blue one last time to make sure he was secure, before she climbed into her cluttered mess of a Bronco, cranked the engine and set a course for Montana.
Chapter Ten
Hauling Blue from Texas to Montana was slow going and it took Dallas an extra day to get back to Bent Tree Ranch. This was the first time that she was returning from the road without the option of camping out at Lightning Rock or crashing with Clint. Normally, she wasn’t opposed to bunking in the dorm with all the cowpokes—their burping and carousing didn’t bother her—but somewhere along Interstate 90, Dallas started to feel sick. She was hot, then cold. She was sweating and then clammy and cold. She had to pull over several times because she was too nauseated to drive. It had to be that she picked up the stomach flu somewhere along the way, and by the time she, thankfully, pulled her trailer onto Bent Tree property, she was certain she was running a fever.
“You are running a fever.” Barbara Brand took the thermometer out of her mouth and read it. “My goodness, Dallas—you need to take some medicine and get straight into bed.”
Dallas had been feeling too lousy to go to the bunkhouse, so she’d ended up going to the one place she knew she could get some help: Barbara Brand’s kitchen. “Now that Pop’s gone and Clint’s married—I’m not sure where I’ve got to go.”
Barbara stared at her for a couple of blinks with blue eyes that reminded her of Nick. “You’ll stay here.”
Dallas couldn’t remember a time when someone cared for her when she was sick the way Barbara did. Nick’s aunt loaded her up with over-the-counter medicines to help bring down the fever and quiet her roiling stomach. She cooked up some chicken noodle soup with bland crackers and then drew her a hot bath, bundled her up in warm clothes and put her to bed so she could break her fever. Hank came in during the process, kissed his wife on the cheek and wished her well, before he headed to his office. Hank was used to his wife taking in strays—that was just part of the bargain he got when he married Barbara.
For a week, Dallas was stuck in bed, fighting a fever, aches and chills. A day into her stay at the main house at Bent Tree, Barbara had Hank bundle her up in a blanket and take her to town to see the doctor. She was diagnosed with the flu, given Theraflu and some steroids to quicken her recovery. Hank brought her back to the ranch and Barbara tucked her back into bed. She was too sick at the time to really think about it, but it did strike her as strange later that she was a woman full grown, in her thirties, before she had ever experienced someone tucking her into bed.
“Good morning!” Barbara breezed into the guest room where she had been staying. “How are you feeling today?”
Dallas squinted when the curtains were drawn to let the daylight into the room. “I think my fever finally broke last night.”
Barbara came over to the bed and felt her forehead with the back of her hand. “You’re cooler. That’s good news.”
“I’m glad to see he’s been keeping you company,” Nick’s aunt said of the large black cat curled up at her feet.
“He’s barely left my side all week.”
Barbara stopped to scratch the feline on the chops. “You’re such a good boy, Ranger.”
Dallas sat upright in bed. She needed to get up today—her body felt stiff and cramped from being stuck in bed all week.
“Do you feel up to coming down for breakfast?” Barbara paused in the doorway.
Dallas nodded. “I’ll be right down.”
Nick’s aunt had cleaned her clothing and left them in a folded pile on a nearby chair. Dallas got herself dressed before she headed down to the kitchen. Following closely behind her was the Brand family feline, Ranger, who had purred for her and kept her company for days. Perhaps he saw that she was better now too.
“Let’s see if you can hold this down today.” Barbara had already made her a soft-boiled egg with a plain piece of unbuttered toast.
Dallas hated soft-boiled eggs—they were, in her opinion, inedible under any circumstances. But she was a guest at Bent Tree; she’d suffer through eating it.
She took a bite, chewed the egg quickly and rinsed it down with water as fast as she could.
“Coffee smells too good.” Dallas looked longingly at the coffeepot on the counter.
“I could give you a tad—see how it goes.”
Her first sip of coffee in a week tasted so good. It canceled the taste of that horrible soft-boiled egg. With the coffee, she managed to get through the breakfast Barbara had made for her.
“I’m glad to see you feeling better.” Barb cleared away her plate.
Now that she was recovering, it amazed her how quickly she went downhill and how kind Barbara was to take her in. “I don’t have a way to thank you.”
Barbara joined her at the table. “You’re Davy’s daughter. You’re family.”
She’d never really thought of the Brands as family, but she knew that Hank had promised her father that he’d watch out for her. Dallas was used to taking care of herself, so that promise was between friends and didn’t have anything to do with her. Until now.
“I’m gonna have to start thinkin’ about gettin’ a place to pitch my tent.” Dallas voiced her concern aloud. It hadn’t hit her before, but it did now—without Lightning Rock as a home base, she was technically homeless now.
“I was thinking about that,” Barbara agreed. “What about the tree house?”
Of all the options that had been cycling through her mind, the tree house on Bent Tree property hadn’t been in the equation. Hank had a tree house built for Barbara for one of the wedding anniversaries. It wasn’t a typical tree house—it was a small gingerbread house in the trees, complete with a small kitchen, a bathroom, a living room and a spiral staircase leading up to a loft bedroom. There was a small barn nearby because Barbara liked to ride her horse to get to the tree house.
“I have money.” Dallas frowned. She wasn’t a charity case. She’d just never thought of settling anywhere—up until now, she hadn’t been forced to think about it.
“Then pay us rent,” Barbara countered. “I always hate to think of it empty, going to waste. Hank and I don’t get out there anymore. It’s perfect for you and Blue. When you feel up to it, go take a look at it. If you want it, we’ll talk money.”
Dallas had a moment to consider the offer because the landline rang. Barbara answered the phone and when she heard Nick’s name, Dallas knew that he was calling his aunt looking for her. She hadn’t returned any of his texts since she got si
ck—she didn’t feel like talking to anyone. It wasn’t a deliberate attempt to worry him; she wasn’t used to being accountable to anyone but herself.
“She’s right here,” Dallas heard Barbara say. “Do you want to talk to her?”
Barbara stepped out of the kitchen after she handed the phone to her. Dallas was sure that Nick’s aunt had an inkling, after this phone call, that their relationship might have progressed beyond friendship.
“Hello?”
“Dallas.” Nick’s voice sounded tense with worry. “Thank God you’re okay.”
* * *
Nick hung up, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of anger and relief. The last time he talked to Dallas, she was leaving Wyoming and crossing into Montana. She had mentioned on their last phone call that she wasn’t feeling right—she was tired and had a headache. And then she fell off the radar. Who did that? Who just stopped communicating?
Dallas Dalton.
“Nick! What are you doing down here? I thought we were going to catch up?”
Brit Darling-Hammond, a longtime friend and occasional lover when they were both between relationships, came down to the bottom deck of his parents’ yacht. Ever since he was pursuing a relationship with Dallas, and at the same time starting a new job, he’d neglected his gang of weekend warriors. The weekend after his trip to Houston, he tried to make up for lost time and organized a yacht party on Lake Michigan for his friends.
“Business call.” Nick put his phone in the pocket of his shorts.
Brit sat down on the couch next to him. She was exactly the type of woman he’d imagined would be his wife down the road—her family were members of the same country club, Brit had graduated summa cum laude from Stanford Law, and she was flat-out undeniably beautiful. Any features that hadn’t been perfect at birth had been shaped through plastic surgery—she didn’t have a wrinkle on her lovely face, her makeup was always flawless and she appreciated good clothing. Yet they had never really gotten their relationship up and running. They were friends, they had a good time in bed, but that had been as far as he could go with Brit.
Brit had her hand on his arm; she leaned close enough that her full breast brushed against his body. She’d been between relationships for a while and had started giving off “friends with benefits” signals.
“You planned this party for all of us and we have hardly seen you,” she complained.
“I know,” Nick apologized—he had been distracted by Dallas going radio silent. “I’m sorry.”
Brit leaned close enough to nip at his earlobe—they had been together enough that Brit knew exactly how to get him turned on quickly. Nick’s body responded—Brit smelled like suntan lotion, she was wearing a bikini that would be very easy to remove and he had always enjoyed taking Brit to bed. But the harder he got, the more irritated he became. Nick stood up to break the sexual tension between Brit and himself.
“I met someone,” Nick told his friend. That would make her back off—that was their deal. They didn’t interfere with each other’s chances to find that “love connection” that they didn’t have with each other, even though, on paper, they should have been a perfect fit.
Disappointed, Brit said, “I hadn’t heard.”
He was losing his erection and he was glad for it. “It’s new.”
Brit stood up, adjusted her bikini top, her gold bangle bracelets tinkling with every movement of her tanned arm. “She can’t be from here. I would have heard.”
“Do you want to go back topside? Get a drink?”
“Oh!” Brit rebounded quickly from the idea of a sexual tryst. She linked her arm with his as they walked up the stairs to the top deck. “So it’s a secret. You know how I am with a secret.”
Brit was the group’s Sherlock Holmes. Now that she knew he was holding back his cards, she would be relentless in her search to out him. He hadn’t been able to figure out his feelings for Dallas—he hadn’t been able to figure out how they were going to fit into each other’s lives, and then when Dallas disappeared on him, it scared him. The fear of losing her outweighed his worry about how things were going to work out between them. He loved her; he wanted to be with her. The question he needed answered now: did the cowgirl want to be with him?
* * *
It took a solid four weeks, but Dallas had fully recovered from the flu and had settled in nicely in the tree house. It was her own space—something she hadn’t ever really had. She had loved her nomadic life, but this was a nice way to experience life too. Stability. What a novel concept. So novel, in fact, that she had decided to take a longer break from barrel racing. She had enough money saved up from her winnings in Texas; the rent on her tree house was reasonable. Blue deserved a break and so did she.
A knock on the tree house door sent Dallas running down the spiral staircase. “Coming!”
Dallas swung open the front door; Nick was standing in her doorway.
“You found me.” She stepped back so he could come into her home.
“Took me a minute,” Nick admitted. “I’d forgotten about this place.”
Nick took his duffel bag off his shoulder and set it on the floor. Dallas shut the door behind him, touched Nick’s arm and hoped that he would take her into his arms. She knew that he was still upset with her—he had a legitimate beef—but she had missed him. She had missed him more than she could express in words.
Nick turned toward her wordlessly and pulled her into his arms. They stood for several minutes, hugging each other, glad to be back together. Nick kissed the top of her head, as he liked to do, and then he tipped her chin up so he could kiss her on the lips.
Dallas took his hand and led him to the two-seater couch in the cozy living room. They sat down on the couch, their legs pressed closely together, their hands clasped.
“Please don’t ever fall off the radar again, Dallas.” Nick slipped his hand beneath her hair.
“I promise, Nick. Never again. I didn’t mean to make you worry—I’ve never had someone out there worrying about my every move. Next time, you’ll be the first one I tell.”
“You’re important to me, Dallas. You matter to me.” Nick held on to her hand. “It took time for this connection I have with you—these feelings that I have for you—to work itself out in my mind.”
Dallas dropped her forehead onto his shoulder with a laugh. “We are an odd pair.”
“Does that matter?”
“Not to me. You?”
“No.” Nick’s eyes roamed her face. “Dallas. I love you.”
He had never said that to her before; she had felt his love, in the way he treated her—in the way he held her and made love to her. But to hear the words—it felt like a dream.
Dallas stared into Nick’s bright, clear blue eyes and wanted to be able to say that she loved him too. Her heart knew that it was true, but she couldn’t get her mouth to form those words. Instead, she decided to fill the void of her absent words with a kiss.
It wasn’t long before their reunion led them to the loft bedroom upstairs. Dallas’s body had been reawakened in Houston and she had been wanting to make love with Nick in the worst way.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Nick tightened his arms around her body. “So beautiful.”
Nick loved her slow and long; he took his time as if he was savoring the feeling of making love to her. He kissed her as he moved inside her, caring about her pleasure more than his own. She loved it when he was deep inside her, his groin pressed tightly against her own; she loved it when he kissed her neck and murmured sweetly in her ear that she was beautiful.
“Are you coming?”
She opened her eyes, knowing that he was watching her in her pleasure. In his eyes, she saw that he loved her. It was there for her to see.
“Yes.” She gasped the word and closed her eyes as the orgasm fanned out
across her body. So sweet. So sweet.
Soon after her orgasm began, Nick quickened his thrusts to join her. She let her thighs fall farther apart, trusting him to go deeper and harder. Knowing that he wouldn’t hurt her.
Nick tensed above her, his arms braced on either side of her. Dallas opened her eyes to watch him climax. A thought flashed in her mind—this was what Nick would look like if he ever gave her a child.
* * *
Ever since he had met Dallas Dalton, his life plan had gone all wonky. First he was chasing her to Texas, and now he was in a tree house in Montana. So far, it wasn’t interfering with his work—but it could if he didn’t get things settled with her.
“I want you to come visit me in Chicago.” Nick was propped up on a pile of pillows in Dallas’s bed. He had the cowgirl exactly where he wanted her: in his arms.
“When?”
“Why not now?” He wanted to pull that Band-Aid off as soon as possible. She needed to meet his mother—God help them all—and she needed to see him in his natural element. In the city, where he felt at home.
“You want me to go back to Chicago with you?”
“That’s what I want.”
Dallas dragged her short fingernails through his chest hair, which seemed to be a favorite activity when they were together in bed. “I have a couple of weeks left before I have to start training hard and getting back on the road.” She paused in thought again, then added, “I can go to Chicago for about a week, if it’ll make you happy.”
He wasn’t sure it was going to make him happy—but they both needed to see if there was a way for them to blend their lives. That was where this was going, or else what were they doing?
After they had agreed that Dallas would fly back to Chicago with him, they went downstairs to raid the refrigerator. Dallas had stocked the kitchen in anticipation of his visit, and the cowgirl actually cooked for him. It wasn’t fancy, but it was edible—chicken, vegetables and mashed potatoes.
At dusk, they went out to tend to Blue together and then they went for a walk, holding hands as the sun disappeared behind the mountains in the distance. Just as night had fallen and darkness enveloped the surrounding landscape, Dallas and Nick climbed the wraparound stairs leading up to the front door of the tree house.