A Rancher’s Surrender

by Michelle Beattie

Had he been standing his knees would have buckled. Where had that come from? Granted, he’d been caught kissing Jillian, but marrying her? Sweat beaded his upper lip and his heart gave a solid thump against his ribs. Yes, she was beautiful. And soft. And the way her mouth moved with his, the way she’d leaned into him—

  He shook his head. Desirable or not, he couldn’t go down that road again. Not after where the last one had taken him. Heartbroken, widowed. Ashamed. But he couldn’t tell his daughter any of that.

  “I’m glad you like her, Annabelle, but I don’t plan on marrying her.”

  “But you asked her to the dance, right, Papa?”

  The gleam in her blue eyes and the curve of her mouth warned him if he thought he had his hands full now, it would be nothing compared to what she’d be like once she got older.

  “Grandma wanted me to,” he said. No way was he going to admit he wanted Jillian there as well. His daughter had enough ideas without planting more in her head.

  “But you like her, don’t you? You’ll dance with her, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Button, I’ll dance with her.”

  “A lot?”

  He shook his head. “At least once,” he said.

  With another deep sigh, she resettled against him. He placed his cheek against her head, inhaled the innocence and sweetness of her. He didn’t blame her for wanting a mother. And since Jillian was the first woman he’d kissed since Amy, he wasn’t surprised she’d come to the conclusion she had. Still, despite his undeniable attraction to her, Jillian wasn’t a woman he’d consider marrying.

  She’d never give up being a doctor and he would never settle for being second best again.

  *

  Wade couldn’t have heard Liam right. Goddammit, he couldn’t have heard right.

  “You can’t be serious,” Wade said.

  He and Scott had headed out after morning chores, each with a rope around the bull’s neck, the big animal plodding along between the horses. Since it wasn’t far to Liam’s ranch, the air was still moist and cool when they rode onto his land. Liam had been waiting on the porch.

  “Afraid so, Wade. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” Wade gaped. “We arranged this back in the winter. We agreed to trade bulls when it was time to breed the cows again. I won’t have time to look for another one now, not if I want them bred soon.”

  He shoved his hat up his forehead so he could see Liam better. “What the hell happened?”

  The tall, bow-legged cowboy shrugged. “Change of plans, is all.”

  It didn’t take a whole lot of smarts to figure out what was going on.

  “This is because of the town meeting, isn’t it? Because I stood behind my decision to hire Miss Matthews.”

  Liam kicked some dirt aside with his boot, looked out over his pastures. “Look, Wade. You do whatever you need to, whatever you feel is right, but the rest of us have got to do the same.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Scott asked.

  Unlike Wade, Scott remained astride, his gloved hands holding tight to the bull’s rope.

  Liam squinted as he raised his eyes to Scott. “I have a ranch to run, too, and I can’t afford to be sentimental.” He turned back to Wade. “I had a better offer. Look, I’m sorry, I know you were counting on me, but I can’t afford to pass it up.”

  The fields and pastures were green around Wade but all he saw was red. He’d counted on this. He’d planned on the new blood line, needed it, as some of his heifers wouldn’t be able to be bred now, not when they were the same blood as the bull. It would mean yet more money lost if he couldn’t breed all his heifers.

  “Wade, there’s nothing more I can say. I gotta get to work.”

  Ambling to the barn, Liam left Scott and Wade in stunned silence.

  “That was a dirty, bloody trick,” Scott said.

  Wade ran his hand down his face, struggled to hang on to the last threads of his temper. Though there wasn’t anything to be gained by it, he wanted nothing more than to charge after Liam and get in one good punch. Did the man not realize the damage he’d done?

  “I’m sorry, Wade. But it’s not too late, I can check around, Liam can’t be the only one—”

  “He is. We checked back in the winter, remember? Nobody else was willing to trade straight across.” And he didn’t have any money to throw in to sweeten a deal, which is clearly what had changed Liam’s mind. And whoever made the deal would have known Wade had no way to counter offer.

  Once he was back in the saddle, Scott tossed him his rope. “Any idea who might’ve given Liam the better offer?” he asked.

  “Seems suspect, don’t you think? Liam doesn’t breathe a word about backing out of our arrangement and within a day of me defending Jillian suddenly he has a better offer?”

  “Steven, then?”

  “If not directly, I’m sure he was part of it.”

  They rode in silence back onto the Triple P. Despite his plans, he’d have to cull the herd, keep those heifers that couldn’t be bred from going up into the high country with the rest of the herd. Then come fall, whether he liked it or not as he couldn’t afford to feed them all winter, he’d have to sell them. And with less calves next year…

  “You going to rest that foot for an hour or so?” Scott asked.

  “Nah, it hardly hurts at all,” Wade lied as his ankle throbbed and his boot fisted around it like a vise. “Let’s get James. We have some heifers to move.”

  *

  Jillian heated water, washed and rinsed her hair. She soaked in a rose-scented bath until the water was tepid and her fingers and toes looked like prunes. Though it was neither practical nor needed to fuss with her hair on a daily basis, she nonetheless knew how and she drew upon that skill as she curled and pinned her hair. Knowing she’d have little use for fancy dresses in Montana, she’d left all but two of them back in Pennsylvania, opting to bring the ones best suited to a simpler way of life.

  Taking the pale blue silk—which would match the ribbon she’d woven through the complicated tangle of curls—she laid it gently on her bed. She wasn’t putting it on until the animals were fed for the night, she’d eaten her supper and Hope was saddled. It was silly to be this excited considering the reception she’d received at both the church picnic and the town meeting. But then it wasn’t those people she was anxious to see.

  Silver would be there, as would Letty and Eileen. They’d come to mean a great deal to her and she was looking forward to spending an evening with them. As she ate a cold meal of bread, ham, and cheese, she acknowledged she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. She hadn’t taken hours to ensure she looked her best for Silver’s benefit. It had been done with Wade in mind. He’d said it would make him happy if she came to his dance. In the hours and days since then, she’d clung to those words, along with how they made her feel.

  Like her feet couldn’t quite touch the ground. Like she couldn’t quite catch her breath. Like she’d never once felt before.

  With her supper taken care of, though she’d barely done more than nibble at it, Jillian tidied the kitchen and headed for the barn.

  The evening was perfect for a dance. The air was calm and warm. Green and silver leaves spread wide, caught the sun’s heat and shone. Wildflowers staked their claim at the edge of the trees and filled the air with perfume.

  As Jillian neared the barn, the smell of hay, grain, and soiled bedding competed with the blooms but she wouldn’t be a veterinarian if she couldn’t tolerate and accept all aspects of animals, and the ripe smell coming from the barn meant they were healthy.

  She stopped. She cleaned her stalls every morning and that morning hadn’t been an exception. Her barn never smelled this strong in the evening. Knowing something was wrong, she grabbed her skirts and ran into the barn.

  “Oh!”

  Even with her hand covering her nose and mouth the stench burned her eyes. Which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of manure spread in the narrow aisle. Gagging, Ji
llian backed away until she was standing outside looking in. The stench wasn’t as bad in the open air and she was able to lower her hand.

  Like the spilled feed, this too was designed to irritate and poke at her. It needed to be cleaned, and it couldn’t wait until morning. Which meant she’d get dirty and be late for the dance.

  “They don’t want me to go at all,” she whispered, knowing that was the real reason for this mess.

  Jillian looked toward her house, thought of the dress she’d laid out on her bed. Her head fell forward a moment as she acknowledged just how late this would make her.

  Damn them.

  She allowed herself a moment to wallow and then she set to work. She’d be late, there was no question about that now but, by God, they wouldn’t keep her from going. Bracing for the stench, Jillian stormed in and grabbed some shovels, which, naturally, were clean at the other end of the barn.

  Angry and irritated, she used that energy to scoop out the mess. As she tossed shovelfuls into her wheelbarrow she couldn’t help but take some solace in the fact that whoever had done this—and she knew it was likely Steven—had to have ridden over with it in a wagon of some sort. Which meant they would have had to put up with the stench the whole way. She hoped they smelled as awful as she knew she did.

  When the barn was scraped clean and her animals were fed and secured for the night, she grabbed her saddle, leaving the barn door open to clear out the lingering smell. She’d have to hurry, but she could still get to the dance. It would mean washing in cold water as she didn’t have time to heat it but—

  The world shifted sideways. The door of her house gaped open and she knew she hadn’t left it that way.

  Jillian swallowed the fear that bubbled in her throat. She held her breath, strained to hear. There wasn’t a sound. Yet someone was there. She could feel it. And her rifle was in her house.

  “You’d better get your sorry self outside! I’m armed and I’m coming in!” she yelled for good measure. Setting the saddle on the porch, Jillian pushed the door further open.

  Her home was as it had been when she’d gone to the barn. There was nothing amiss, nothing out of place. Still, she grabbed the rifle, put it to her shoulder and closed the door firmly. Armed, she headed for her bedroom.

  There was no missing it.

  Jillian’s arm went limp and she brought the gun down weakly to her side. She blinked but what she saw didn’t change. From the open window—the one she knew she’d closed—came the racing sound of a wagon rattling away. They must have hidden it in the trees. She didn’t bother looking out. Couldn’t. Not when her gaze was stuck on the shredded scraps of blue silk that an hour ago had been her best dress.

  *

  It wasn’t the first barn dance Marietta had seen since Silver had arrived. It was, however, the first she’d been invited to and she’d been looking forward to it since Eileen had stopped by for a quick tea and visit. Eileen had made no bones about the fact that she was hoping it would bring Wade and Jillian together. Silver hoped so as well, but it wasn’t Wade and Jillian she was thinking about when she pinched her cheeks for color before stepping into the barn.

  She’d made a point of not coming too early and already a fair-sized crowd was gathered in the barn. A small platform had been made at one end to accommodate the musicians. Two fiddlers tapped their toes while their bows skated over the strings. John Daniels was on the banjo and Scott’s lips moved expertly over his harmonica. Her mouth curved when she saw Reverend Donnelly’s red face and full smile as he squeezed perfect notes out of an accordion.

  Many couples spun and twirled on the dance floor and, on the opposite end of the barn, women and children gathered around the refreshment tables. As with any social event, folks gravitated to those they knew best and there were clusters of people laughing and talking along the walls of the barn. Silver’s gaze raked over them as she looked for Letty, Eileen, or Jillian. Or Shane. Her stomach clutched at the thought.

  “Silver, glad you could make it.”

  “Wade. Looks like your mother was right to suggest this. Folks seem to be having a good time.”

  “Don’t tell her she’s right; I’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Well, that’s not much reason not to tell her, is it?” She teased.

  Wade shook his head. “Women. You’ll be the death of me.”

  “Just wait until Annabelle starts catching the boys’ attention.”

  He looked pained. “I tell you, Silver, I have nightmares about just that.”

  She laughed, touched his arm. “You’ll do just fine.”

  The fiddle faded on the last notes of a waltz and John announced they were going to liven things up with a series of polkas before they took a break.

  “May I?” Wade asked.

  She gladly accepted Wade’s offer and while she enjoyed the thump of heels on the ground and the music flowing through her limbs, she kept her gaze over Wade’s shoulder and sought out another.

  *

  Wade liked to dance. Maybe because his parents had, or maybe because opportunity didn’t present itself often, but he enjoyed moving to music and it was never a hardship to have a pretty girl in his arms. Tonight was no exception. Though he enjoyed dancing with Silver, his mother, Letty, and his current partner, Annabelle, it wasn’t those women he’d been anticipating dancing with.

  But then, knowing things couldn’t go any further with him and Jillian, he shouldn’t keep looking over bobbing heads hoping to see her step into the barn. He shouldn’t feel disappointment that she wasn’t there yet. But he did.

  “Right, Papa?”

  Wade blinked, looked down at his daughter. They were dancing, if Annabelle’s feet over his own constituted such a thing. He didn’t mind, though, since he knew she wouldn’t be able to dance on his feet forever. One day she’d be doing it on her own. With boys. The thought scared the hell out of him.

  “What, Button?”

  She gave him a patient look, sighed and said, “Jacob says boys don’t like to dance, that they just do it to keep their wives happy. I told him he was wrong. I’m right, aren’t I, Papa?”

  “Depends on the man, I expect. I don’t mind dancing and I know James doesn’t either.”

  “Scott loves to dance, he told me so.”

  “There, see? But I’m sure Jacob is also right in that there are men out there who do it to keep the women they love happy.”

  “Jacob says it’s to keep them from nagging.”

  Also likely true, but not something his daughter needed to know just yet.

  “How would Jacob know? You two didn’t go off and get married did you?” He teased.

  “Eww!” Annabelle grimaced.

  Wade laughed. “Just making sure.”

  “I’m too young to get married. Besides, I wouldn’t marry Jacob anyway. His papa’s too mean.”

  That grabbed Wade’s attention. There was no love lost between him and Steven but as far as Wade knew Steven had never mistreated Annabelle. If that had changed…

  “Mean, how?”

  “He got mad at Jacob for fetching Miss Matthews when his dog was bit by a snake. Then he said some mean things to her, but Jacob said Miss Matthews was real brave and didn’t cower. Jacob said his pa was so mad he wouldn’t pay her, even after she saved Fred.”

  Wade hadn’t heard anything about that but, knowing Steven, it didn’t surprise him.

  “And he says mean things about Miss Matthews when she isn’t around either.”

  Not that Wade doubted it, but hearsay was known to make things worse than they were and he was quick to remind Annabelle of that.

  “But I heard him, Papa. I heard him talking.” Her little face went fierce. “He used bad words.”

  The bastard. Jillian hadn’t done anything to Steven other than help his son’s dog and for that she was punished? Wade looked around the room. It was hard to pinpoint anybody with the crowd constantly shifting, but he didn’t spot Steven. Still, Steven had better watch himself be
cause if Wade heard him malign Jillian, he’d do something about it.

  *

  With several men having brought their instruments, the musicians switched as breaks were needed. Silver was pouring herself a glass of punch when Scott sidled to her side.

  “I never knew you played.” Silver nodded to the harmonica he put in his pocket. “You’re very good.”

  He shrugged as he accepted the glass she’d poured. “It passed the time when I was younger.”

  “No boys you could have gotten into trouble with?” Silver took another glass, filled it.

  “Not a lot of kids where I grew up,” he answered.

  Silver wondered at the shadows that darkened his eyes but decided not to push. She liked Scott. He was quiet, a gentleman. He’d been a good friend to her and she could repay that kindness by not prying.

  “I haven’t seen Jillian yet,” she said. The dance floor was doing a brisk business and there was more than one face with a sheen of sweat on it. “Or Shane.”

  Scott poured himself another glass, grabbed a handful of cookies. “Shane’s here. I saw him outside with Melissa.”

  The bottom fell out of Silver’s stomach. Melissa. Perfectly respectable Melissa. Why was Silver surprised? Suddenly, the evening lost its charm. The lanterns hanging on the walls weren’t soft and romantic. They were cruel and mocking. The music didn’t fill her until she couldn’t help tapping her toes; it pulsed in her head until she felt the beginning of a headache. The smell of fresh wood turned her stomach.

  She turned to put her full cup back onto the table.

  “Finally decided to come in, did you?” Scott badgered.

  “Scott, I said I wouldn’t dance with you and I meant it,” Shane answered, laughter in his voice.

  Silver’s hand stilled and her traitorous heart squeezed. Shane was here. Which meant Melissa was, too. She pushed the smile onto her face, forced the easiness into her voice.

  “Hello, Shane. Melissa.”

  Melissa wore a pale pink dress with ivory lace at the collar and cuffs. Unlike Silver who’d chosen to pull back the sides of her hair and leave the rest down and unfettered, Melissa’s tresses were a complicated concoction of twists and braids that circled her head like a crown. If only there were thorns in it.