Chapter Eleven
Cindy stood in front of the closet, a towel wrapped around her body. She frowned as she tried to decide whether she wanted to put on her sundress and go up to the lodge or slip into her nightgown and hide out in her room.
What should she do?
Ethan didn’t want to see her, but she very much wanted to see him.
Paul wanted to see her, but she didn’t want to see him.
Deciding she wanted to see Ethan more than she didn’t want to see Paul, she let the towel drop to the floor. And then, with a defiant toss of her head, she reached for her bright yellow sundress. Ethan Stormwalker would see her whether he wanted to or not.
The lodge was crowded when she arrived, mostly with adult couples, though there were a few teenagers here and there. She assumed most of the other kids were in the game room. She saw two of the Native drummers standing together in a corner, along with three Lakota women. Wives and girlfriends, she supposed. She saw Linda Petersen sitting at a small table. Cindy grinned, certain that Linda was there in hopes of seeing Ethan.
A three-piece band was playing an old Brooks and Dunn song. Cindy noticed the third Indian drummer was playing the guitar. She wondered briefly if the men were related to Ethan and Dorothea.
Flo and Earl danced by. Flo waved when she saw her and Cindy waved back, and then walked over to Linda’s table. “Hi, mind if I sit down?”
“Of course not,” Linda said. “How are you, Miss Wagner?”
“Fine, and call me Cindy. Your folks look good out there.”
Linda rolled her eyes. “I guess so.” She glanced around the room. “Do you think Stormwalker will be here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Even if he does come, I don’t suppose he’d dance with me.” Linda said morosely. “He probably thinks I’m just a kid.”
Before Cindy could form an answer, Paul walked up to their table.
“Evening, Cyn. Care to dance?”
Linda looked at Cindy and winked. It was easy enough to read the girl’s mind. She was thinking Paul was mighty cute, which Cindy had to admit was true. He was wearing a pair of cream-colored trousers and a brown pullover shirt that perfectly complimented his brown eyes.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
“I guess so,” Cindy said. Ignoring his hand, she followed him onto the dance floor.
Paul drew her into his arms. They had always danced well together and he twirled her effortlessly around the floor. She knew they made a striking couple—Paul with his summer-blond hair and fair skin, she with her black hair and olive complexion. But even as they danced, her gaze was skimming the room, searching for a tall man with hair as black as her own. Would he be here tonight? Or would he stay away, hoping to avoid her?
“Remember that night in Sarasota when we danced on the beach?” Paul said.
“Yes.” It had been shortly after they became engaged. She’d still had stars in her eyes then, still been caught up in the newness and the excitement of the whirlwind that was Paul VanDerHyde.
“It can be like that again, Cyn.”
They’d had good times, she thought, at least in the beginning, when she had thought she was more important to him than making money, before she realized he was making all her decisions, gradually changing her from the woman she was into the one he wanted her to be.
The dance ended and they left the dance floor. “I’m going to get something to drink,” Paul said. “Would you like something?”
“Yes, thanks.”
She wandered back over to the Petersen table to wait for Paul. Flo was sitting there with Linda.
“Who’s the new man?” Flo asked.
Cindy sat down across from Linda. “An old boyfriend, actually,” she said. “We were engaged.”
Flo’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
“Yes. We broke up not long ago.”
“And he came here after you,” Linda said, looking dreamy-eyed. “Oh, that’s so romantic!”
“I suppose it would be,” Cindy said, “if I still cared. But. . .”
The words died in her throat as she saw Ethan on the dance floor. He was holding a pretty redheaded woman in his arms; a young woman clad in a pair of skintight black jeans, a red spandex tank top and a smile that said “Take me, I’m yours.”
Cindy recognized her as one of the waitresses from the dining room. She stared at the two of them, a wave of jealousy unlike anything she had ever known before flooding through her.
She clenched her hands into tight fists as Paul stepped into her line of vision.
“All they have is soft drinks and lemonade,” he said, placing a tall frosty glass in front of her.
She nodded.
Paul looked at Flo and Linda, and when Cindy didn’t introduce him, he smiled at them and held out his hand. “Hello. I’m Paul VanDerHyde, Cindy’s fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé,” Cindy muttered, but no one was listening.
“Flo Petersen,” Flo said, shaking his hand. “And this is my daughter Linda. Oh, and this is my husband, Earl,” she added as he approached the table.
Paul sat down and was soon engrossed in a discussion about the stock market with Earl.
Flo rapped Cindy on the arm. “Are you all right, honey?”
“What? Oh, yes, fine. I was just . . . just. . .” She swallowed hard, determined not to cry.
Flo regarded her curiously, but didn’t pry. A few minutes later, the lights dimmed and the strains of a soft slow ballad filled the room.
Paul stood up and offered Cindy his hand. “Shall we?”
She was about to refuse when she saw Ethan lead the red-haired woman onto the floor. “Yes,” she said, and forcing a smile, she stood and moved into Paul’s arms.
She knew the moment Ethan saw her. Time seemed to stand still as his gaze met hers. She was surprised that the electricity that hummed between them didn’t send sparks shooting across the room.
Ethan laughed at something his partner said and the sight filled Cindy with such pain she thought she might collapse right there, on the dance floor. Instead, she stiffened her spine, smiled up at Paul and then, leaning closer, she kissed him.
Paul was startled, but not so startled that he didn’t take advantage of the situation and kiss her back.
When she opened her eyes and glanced around, Ethan and the waitress were gone.
She wasn’t sure how she got through the rest of the evening. She remembered making small talk with Flo and Linda while Paul and Earl talked about the stock market and the interest rate and which company built the best truck, Ford or Chevy.
When the dance was over, they bid the Petersens good-night and Paul walked her back to her cabin.
“So,” he said, “was that kiss for my benefit or his?”
A wave of telltale heat swept into her cheeks, making her grateful for the darkness.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Paul said, his voice tinged with anger. “I don’t think I’d like the answer.” He took her hand in his and kissed it, his lips cool. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ethan shoved his hands in the pockets of his Levi’s, wondering what the devil had possessed him to ask Millie if she’d like to go for a walk. He didn’t feel like making small talk about the ranch, or sidestepping her veiled hints to spend the night with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive, it was just that she was the wrong woman at the wrong time. He muttered a mild oath, wondering what the right woman was doing. Was she walking in the moonlight with her supposed former fiancé? Kissing him good-night? Making plans for another wedding?
Dammit!
Millie smiled up at him. “Did you say something?”
“No.”
“You seem sort of far away. Is something bothering you? You can tell me, if you want. I’m a good listener.”
He forced a smile. “Thanks, but it’s nothing I want to talk about.”
She tugged on his arm, bringing him to a stop, then moved around to stand in front
of him. “I really am a good listener.” She ran the palm of her hand over his chest, slowly, sensuously. “You must know how I feel, Ethan. I’ve never made any secret of the fact that. . .”
He placed his hand over her mouth. “Don’t, Millie. Don’t say anything you’ll regret later.”
She licked his palm, then clasped his hand in hers. “Is there someone else?”
He started to say no, and then nodded.
“Is it serious?”
He thought about Cindy, about how wrong he was for her, and how much he wanted her. Was he doing the right thing by letting her go?
“Ethan?”
“No,” he said heavily. “It’s not serious.” Not anymore.
Millie linked her arm through his. “Well, come on, then. I’ll fix you a drink at my place and we can watch a movie or something.”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
Cindy turned on the radio. Sat down in the chair beside the window. Opened the paperback novel she had picked up at the lending library at the lodge, and tried to read. But she didn’t see the words on the page. She saw Ethan holding another woman in his arms. Laughing with her. Leaving with her.
With a grimace, she tossed the book across the room.
And then even the radio turned traitor. Was everyone against her? She hadn’t heard that song in five years. Their song. Why now? she thought miserably.
Rising, she left her cabin. For a moment, she stood undecided, torn by the desire to go by Ethan’s cabin and see if he was there. No! She wouldn’t spy on him. Resolutely, she turned in the opposite direction.
She hadn’t gone far when she heard his voice, accompanied by feminine laughter. Ducking behind a tree, she saw Ethan and the redheaded woman walking toward the bungalows where the help lived. Cindy didn’t miss the way the woman was clinging to Ethan’s arm, or the way she was looking up at him, her eyes no doubt filled with adoration!
Cindy stood there, her fingernails digging into the tree trunk, as she watched Ethan follow the woman into one of the bungalows. And close the door.
She stayed there for a long time, silent tears trickling down her cheeks. She could see the woman through the window of the bungalow, doing something in the kitchen. A short time later, all the lights went out in the bungalow.
And all her dreams of the future went out with them.
Chapter Twelve
“You look like the devil.”
Cindy stared up at Paul, bleary-eyed. He looked far too cheerful. “You say the sweetest things,” she muttered.
He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Rough night?”
“Can we just go and get something to eat? I need a cup of coffee.”
“Sure, Cyn.”
They walked up to the lodge without saying a word. Paul held the door for her and she headed for the nearest table. It wasn’t until she sat down that she saw Ethan sitting at a table across the room. Dressed in a dark red shirt open at the throat, and a pair of faded blue jeans, he looked good enough to eat.
He glanced up just then, his gaze lingering on hers, his expression one of. . . what? Regret? Relief? Before she could decide, Paul sat down, blocking her view.
She picked up the menu, wondering why she had ever agreed to spend this day with Paul, when all she wanted to do was sit in her cabin and cry.
“Morning, folks, what can I get for you?”
Cindy felt the long green fingers of jealousy twist around her heart when she looked up and saw Millie waiting to take their order.
“What’ll you have, Cyn?” Paul asked.
“A strawberry waffle,” she said, certain she would never be able to swallow past the lump in her throat. “And coffee.”
Paul ordered a poached egg, toast, orange juice and coffee.
Cindy leaned a little to one side so she could watch Millie refill Ethan’s coffee cup. She didn’t miss the way the waitress smiled at him, or the fact that she touched his shoulder.
“So,” Paul said, “I thought maybe we’d go into town today and have a look around. Maybe take in a movie and then go out for dinner. What do you say?”
“Sure, whatever you want to do.”
“I need to get back to work.” He grinned. “I’ve left Clarke in charge long enough. He’s liable to forget who’s the boss. I thought we’d leave tomorrow morning after breakfast. Can you be ready then?”
“I’m not ready to go home.”
“Come on, you’ve played the spoiled little rich girl long enough. It’s time to get back to the real world. Your parents are expecting us for brunch tomorrow.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “We can talk about the wedding then.”
“Paul, I’m not going to marry you.”
As usual, he wasn’t listening to a word she said. “I don’t suppose we’d better plan another big wedding, but we can make up for it at the reception.”
“Paul!” She slammed her hand on the table. Then, remembering they weren’t alone, she lowered her voice. “Would you for once listen to me? It’s over. I don’t love you. I am not going to marry you. Not now. Not ever.”
“I think you mean that.”
“I do.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. He looked at her as though seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time. Then, very deliberately, he folded his napkin and put it on the table. Rising, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a twenty dollar bill, which he dropped beside his napkin.
“Very well,” he said tersely. “Goodbye, Cynthia.”
Feeling only relief, she watched him walk out the door. The fact that she wasn’t the least bit upset proved all too clearly that she didn’t love him, and never had. The only bad thing about his going was that she now had a clear view of Ethan. He met her gaze, one brow arching inquisitively.
Ignoring him, she picked up her cup and sipped her coffee, pretending to be absorbed in the view out the window.
Millie brought their order a few moments later. “Can I bring you anything else?” she asked.
“No, thank you.”
To her surprise, Cindy had an appetite, after all. She not only ate her waffle and Paul’s egg, but drank his orange juice and his coffee, as well.
When she was finished, she left the dining room, careful to avoid Ethan’s gaze.
Outside, she took a deep breath and then headed for the game room, suddenly eager to be in the midst of other people.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. From the looks of it, Cindy and Mr. Moneybags had had another falling out. A permanent one this time? It would be easy enough to check. Ethan’s meals were on the house, but he dropped a few dollars on the table for Millie before he left the dining room.
Dorothea looked up from behind the desk when he entered the office. “Morning, Nephew,” she said cheerfully. “Anything wrong?”
“No. Did that greenhorn check out?”
Dorothea lifted one brow. “They’re all greenhorns. Which one are you talking about? As if I didn’t know,” she muttered under her breath.
“Did he?”
“Yes, just a few minutes ago.” She grinned at him. “I’d say that leaves the field wide open.”
Ethan glared at her.
“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” she said. “It’s as plain as snow on the mountains that you’ve got it bad for that girl. Why don’t you do something about it before it’s too late?”
“It’s already too late.”
“It’s never too late.”
Ethan made a low sound of disapproval in his throat. “Her family would never approve of me, and you know it. They think I’m scum.”
“Well, change their minds! You’re a bright boy. Not bad looking. Are you going to give up, just like that?” she asked, snapping her fingers. “Where’s the boy I knew? The one who fought for what he wanted? The one who wanted to be a warrior?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Where is he?”
“Ethan Stormwalker! Stop talking like that right now, hear
? I’m not too old to take you over my knee and whip some sense into you if I have to.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed.
“All right, go on with you, now. Aren’t you supposed to be giving riding lessons to the Petersen girls in a little while?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m on my way.”
“And watch out for that oldest one. She’s got a crush on you, you know.”
Ethan grunted, all too aware that Linda Petersen thought she was in love with him. If only Cindy looked at him the way the Petersen girl did! Settling his hat on his head, he left the office. Cindy had looked at him like that once, and if he had anything to do with it, she would again.
Cindy wandered around the game room, but nothing caught her interest. She didn’t feel like reading. She wasn’t into video games. She had already seen the movie that was playing in the back room. She nodded and smiled at several other guests and then left the building. A swim sounded good, but she didn’t have a bathing suit. She was on her way to the gift shop to see if they had one there when she heard Ethan’s voice.
She followed it to a small corral behind the barn. Nancy and Mary Petersen were sitting on the top rail of the corral. Inside, Ethan was giving riding lessons to Linda, who was paying more attention to Ethan than to her horse.
Standing out of sight, Cindy watched him interact with the girls. He was patient with Linda, sidestepping her attempts to flirt with him in a way that wouldn’t hurt the teenager’s feelings, and still managing to teach her how to maintain her seat and hold the reins. He was equally patient with the two younger girls, helping them to gain confidence in themselves and their ability.
Cindy stayed there through the rest of the lesson, happy to watch him, thinking that he would make a wonderful father.
She ducked back when he opened the corral gate for the girls, nodding and smiling as they expressed their thanks for the lesson.
Cindy was about to turn away when she heard Ethan’s voice. “You can come out now.”
She froze, wondering whether she should run away or step out from her hiding place and admit she’d been spying on him.
“I know you’re there,” he said.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped out from behind the shed and walked toward the corral. ” How’d you know I was there?”
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