“Dillon?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are you selling the ranch?” Gloria turned to gaze up at him. His hat sat on the bench beside them so she was able to see his eyes.
“I told you. I’m on the rodeo circuit most of the year. Never here.”
“Hasn’t your back had enough bull riding?”
He turned his head, a single eyebrow arched.
“You groan every time you bend. Seems like it gives you a lot of trouble.” Her hand moved to his thigh, stroking the denim that covered his powerful muscles. “Plus, you love it here. I can see that you do.”
He blinked but there was no expression. His features were granite. Stony.
“What’s the real reason?”
By the way his chest rose, he was drawing a deep breath, yet he stayed silent.
Finally, just when she didn’t think he’d answer, he said, “I don’t deserve it.”
She raised her gaze back to his face. “What do you mean?”
He rubbed his jaw and turned away, as if he couldn’t bear her looking at him. “Let’s just say that I’ve done things that make it impossible for me to keep this place. Things I can’t take back, can’t even ask forgiveness for.” Picking up his hat, he fit it on his head. “And that is the end of the story.”
* * *
DESPITE WHAT HE said about not keeping the ranch and that that was the end of the story, the idea of keeping the ranch was sure making the rounds inside of his head. That was all Dillon thought about on the ride back to the main house no matter what he did to get rid of it. He was thankful for Sage and Andy’s presence just to give him a little peace of mind.
“Just in time,” Sage said when she saw him enter the kitchen. “The bannock is fresh out of the oven.”
“Smells delicious.” He kissed her cheek and she patted his.
“Where’s Gloria?” her father asked as he rifled through drawers, apparently looking for cutlery to set the table.
“She’s changing, I think.”
Andy found what he was looking for and he motioned to the dining room. “Can you give me a hand?”
Uh-oh. Didn’t matter how old you were, being pulled aside by the father of the woman you were sleeping with made a man feel jumpy.
“Whatever it is you’re doing with my daughter, keep doing it,” he whispered.
“What do you mean?”
Andy glanced toward the hall, as if he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard. “I’ve never seen her so happy. Not since her mom died.” He thumped Dillon on the back. “You’re a good man, strong enough to stand up to her.” He winked. “I’m giving you my blessing.”
Dillon didn’t know what came over him, but in some weird spontaneous act, he gave Gloria’s dad a hug, thumping his back the way he’d just done to Dillon, even though he wasn’t sure if he was up to the task of what Andy had given his blessing for.
“Wow, it smells good in here,” Gloria said, entering the room seconds later. Had she overhead the conversation? Her skin was pink, but that could easily be from washing up, or remnants of his kisses and whiskers. Mmm. Now that was a nice thought. A whisker burn on her neck. From his whiskers.
Mine.
Whoa. He gave his head a shake.
Easy, Dillon. She may feel like yours in the here and now, but then what?
Minutes later, the food was laid out and everyone sat around anxious to eat, the second time in as many days that the four of them had sat down to a meal together. Days ago they were all relative strangers and yet, sitting here sharing a simple meal felt comfortable.
“Thank you so much, Sage,” Gloria said, dishing a huge helping of stew onto her plate. “I am starving.”
“Well, you’ve had a...busy day.” Dillon emphasized his words with a little footsy action beneath the table.
The sparkle in her eyes and blush in her cheeks were all the gratification he needed. She covered up what was going on by turning to Sage. “How’s business these days?”
“Slow,” Sage said. “Thank goodness for the internet.”
“You’re on the internet?” Gloria’s dad set his fork down, looking startled. “Don’t you worry about being exposed? Exploited? Scrutinized?”
Obviously, Sage found Andy’s questions amusing, because she laughed heartily. “Oh, Andrew. This is the twenty-first century. It’s the way of the world. I learned a long time ago that there’s no sense holding on to the past, no matter how much you don’t want things to change.” She smiled at him and the newfound fondness did not go unnoticed.
Gloria’s father smiled back and Dillon could see from his expression that he was taking in what she’d said as if it was a completely new and foreign concept to him, one he’d have to think about seriously.
“If not for the internet, I’d have had to close a long time ago. Internet sales make up 60 percent of my revenue. Only 40 percent are walk-ins. This weekend counts for about half of that.” She turned to Dillon and pointed her fork at him. “Speaking of this weekend, don’t forget you’re on the list to help set up tomorrow.”
“How could I forget.”
“What’s going on this weekend?” Gloria asked.
“The county fair and rodeo,” Dillon supplied.
“Are you riding?”
He nodded. “Yep. This’ll be my fifteenth year straight. Wouldn’t miss it.”
* * *
WITH ALL FOUR of them cleaning up, dishes took only a few minutes and strangely, Gloria wished it would have taken a little longer. There was something so nice about working together after a delicious meal.
“Do you need more help setting up tomorrow?” her father asked Sage.
“Of course. We always can use a few more hands.”
He set the dishcloth down, revealing his hands. “These are yours to command.”
Grasping hold of them, Sage said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Gloria leaned against the counter, wiping out a pot, watching the interaction between Sage and her father closely. For the first time in a few days, she noticed that her father’s personal tics—playing with his glasses, smoothing his hair, blinking—were less pronounced. Was it Sage? Was it getting out of Chicago?
Was it Montana?
Then, out of nowhere, a memory jostled its way into her mind: she was sitting on her father’s lap in the sunshine waiting for a geyser to shoot hot water into the air, accompanied by a vague recollection of a sour sulfury smell.
“Dad?” Gloria said. “When we were at Yellowstone, did we see Old Faithful?”
“We sure did. Stayed the whole afternoon. You sat on my lap, patient as anything, waiting for it. Every time it went off, you clapped.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I remember.” She blinked and looked at her father, seeing the man he used to be, not the one he’d become in the past twenty years.
Lowering her eyes, she finished the pot and turned her back, needing to hide the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind if we get going,” Sage was saying to Gloria’s dad, “but I don’t like driving in the dark.”
“Me, neither,” her father said.
After kissing her father and Sage goodbye, she and Dillon stood on the porch, watching them go.
“So, what do you think? Should we head back, too?” Dillon asked after they’d watched the truck turn off the lane onto the main road.
“No.” Gloria gazed up at him. “I think we should get some of that new bedding we bought, make up one of the beds in a guest room and test out one of the new bed frames.”
He grinned wide. “I like the way you think, Red.”
“And, Dillon?” She grabbed his belt loops and tugged him close. “Bring the rope.”
19
&nb
sp; DILLON LEFT GLORIA SLEEPING—not an easy thing to do when she looked so peaceful and beautiful curled up in that big bed—and drove back to Half Moon where setup for the fair had already gotten underway. He spent the morning putting up tents and stages, running cords for sound systems and setting up lights. He was in the midst of unloading chairs from a flatbed truck when Max Ozark came over to lend a hand.
“Good news, Dill. We’ve got a bite.”
“A what?”
“An offer.” When Dillon shook his head in confusion, Max added, “On the ranch. You know? That big piece of property you’re trying to sell?”
“But Gloria’s not done fixing it up.”
“Don’t matter. I put the listing as is, using the shots I took that first day, remember?”
“Yep. I remember.” Dillon suddenly felt itchy. “Who wants it?”
“A family who runs dude ranches up in Canada and Colorado.”
“You’re kidding.” Dillon set down the pile of chairs inside the tent for the beer garden and scratched his jaw. “How’s the offer look? They trying to lowball us?”
“It’s decent.” Max dropped a pile of chairs beside his. “I’ve checked them out, they run quality establishments. Could be good for Half Moon, bring in some tourism dollars.”
“You think I should take it?” Dillon asked hesitantly.
“I do. If you still want to sell, that is.”
“Of course,” he answered quickly. “I just didn’t think it’d happen so fast. I mean, I thought it would take more work.”
I thought Gloria would get to stay longer...
“Come by my office on Monday, we’ll look it over.”
“Sounds good.” Dillon smiled tightly and motioned to the other side of the grounds. “I’m off to help Sage with the arts and crafts tables. I’ll talk to you about this later.”
As he walked, the coffee and doughnut he’d eaten for breakfast churned into a solid mass, sitting heavy in the pit of his stomach. Instead of heading to the arts and crafts tables, he went the other way and headed toward the rodeo grounds. Walt was on a tractor, grading the ring, and there was a crew sweeping the stands and repairing the gates.
“Hey, tough guy. Ready to get your ass whipped in the ring tomorrow?”
Dillon turned around and troubling thoughts about the ranch were momentarily forgotten. “Colton? What the hell?”
After a brief back-thumping greeting, Colton said, “What? Can’t a brother come back to his hometown to show up his washed-up older brother?”
Dillon jabbed his brother playfully in the arm. “Cocky as ever.”
“Big and stupid as ever,” Colton replied with a laugh. He glanced around the grounds. “So, where’s the bet?”
“The what?”
“I was in Chicago a couple days ago, and I went to the gym. Saw Jamie and he mentioned something about a girl and a bet. He said you owe him two hundred bucks, by the way.”
Shaking his head, Dillon laughed. “Her name’s Gloria and she’s working at the ranch right now.” Wrapping his arm around Colton’s neck, and getting his younger brother in a headlock, he said, “And Jamie doesn’t know shit, because I won that bet.”
His brother was strong and wily and easily got himself extricated from the headlock. “Whatever you say, big brother.” He shoved him. “How about taking a break and finding us a beer tent. I’m parched.”
“Plenty of time to drink after the work’s done.”
Colton groaned at the sky. “That’s right. Work first. Play later. Blah, blah, blah. You’re so friggin’ boring.”
“And you’re a lazy ass.”
“Hey. I’m helping. I’m taking care of the livestock.” Colton elbowed Dillon in the ribs. “Catch up later?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh,” Colton called, before Dillon could take off. “Guess who else is back in town?”
“Who?”
“I’ll give you a hint—it’s a woman, she’s from around here, and you know her pretty damn well.”
Dillon’s stomach sank.
“By the look on your face, I’d say you guessed it. Saw Char singing in the Prospector last night during open mic. Heads-up, she’s looking hotter than ever.” Colton made a clicking sound with his tongue and winked. “Later, Dill.”
Dillon stood rooted to the ground. What the hell was Char doing back in town?
* * *
GLORIA HAD A vague recollection of Dillon kissing her before he left and whispering something about...hmm? What was it? She sat up and found his note on the table beside the bed.
Thanks for last night. And yesterday. I’ll be back to pick you up at six.
XX Dillon
Clutching the note to her chest, Gloria jumped out of bed, energized to get to work. Seriously, she felt as though she’d spent the night plugged in and was fully and completely charged...for everything! The first thing she did, after showering, was make a list of all the things that needed to get done and, to her delight, as she came down the stairs the bell rang and two more delivery trucks were parked out front.
Perfect!
That would be the last of it. The final deliveries contained all the smaller furniture and accents, the lighting and carpets, all stuff she could handle on her own. She directed the men to put everything in the corresponding rooms and after they left made a quick breakfast of toast and eggs—all that was available in the fridge—and got to work.
Her day was spent making beds, hanging new window coverings, hanging art, arranging accents on new side tables and shelves. She went out to the field and found wildflowers and grasses, and cut them and put them in the new vases. It was five thirty before she finished, and she gazed around at all she’d achieved, feeling a wonderful sense of accomplishment.
This had to be some of her best work. When staging, it was important that the house looked attractive, spacious but also not too specific, so the buyers could picture their own belongings inside. This place was slightly different. She wanted whoever bought this place to come in and want it, as is. Filled with the furnishings she’d chosen because this wasn’t some generic, cookie-cutter house. This was a unique opportunity and everything she chose was with the ranch in mind. Now that everything had come together, the big ranch house looked like more than just a potential guesthouse.
It looked like a home. A place people could be comfortable and happy.
“I could be happy here,” she said to herself and then let out a big breath.
Dillon was supposed to be by to pick her up in half an hour and she wanted to look her best for him. However, all she had here was her yoga stuff, so she went back out to the Quonset and was about to go through the box of clothes, when she got distracted by all the other things stored in the big shed. Tables, chairs, china cabinets, lamps. Sure, some of the stuff was garbage, but some of it was good solid furniture that could easily be refinished.
She had a vision of herself making this space into a workshop and selling antiques online, while helping Dillon run a dude ranch, taking people out on trail rides, cooking up big meals and eating in the dining room, meeting people, sharing the beauty of this place.
“Oh, my God. Stop.” She recovered the antique hutch and went back to the box of clothes. “I’ve got to stop thinking that way.” Picking up the entire box, she carried it inside and up the stairs to the room she’d shared with Dillon last night. When she walked in, she cried out and dropped the box.
Dillon was lying on the bed, boots crossed at the ankles, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He turned his head at her cry and said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” She pretended to frown as she pointed at his feet. “Boots off the brand-new comforter, cowboy.”
He sat up, placing his boots on the floor. “Sorry.” S
trangely, his expression seemed serious.
She frowned. “Everything okay?”
He grabbed his hat from the bureau and fixed it back on his head, “Yep. Everything’s great.” Looking her up and down, though not in the suggestive way as he’d done yesterday, he said, “You ready to go?”
“Not quite. I need to shower.”
“Okay. I’ll wait downstairs.” He smiled and walked out. No playful banter, nothing about joining her in the shower. No mention of christening the other seven bedrooms that she’d spent all day making up.
She followed him down the stairs. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he said over his shoulder as he continued through to the great room. Then he added, “The place looks amazing, by the way. I don’t know how you did it, but it looks completely different. Brand-new.”
“Thanks,” she said with a frown, because it was a compliment but...not really, because his voice was flat and his expression bordered on displeasure. As if he didn’t like what he was seeing.
“Are you unhappy with the choices I made, now that you see everything in place?” she asked, trying to see the room through his eyes.
“No.” He came up to her, took her hands in his big ones and squeezed. “Honest. It’s amazing.”
“So, why are you acting weird?”
“Am I?”
She grabbed the rim of his hat and took it off. “Look at me.”
His face was stoic and inscrutable. Same as he’d looked on the porch swing yesterday.
“Yes, you’re acting weird. Is it something I’ve done?”
He shook his head. “It’s not you at all. I’m just distracted. The fair brings back lots of...memories. Plus, my brother’s back in town.” He shrugged as if that explained everything, which it didn’t at all.
“Oh,” Gloria said, still scrutinizing Dillon for some sign of what was really going on. “I look forward to meeting him.”
For the first time, a playful smile lit his features. “Well, he considers himself to be something of a ladies’ man, so beware.”
Gloria returned the smile, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on him as he checked his watch.
Big Sky Seduction Page 17