by Linda Warren
He should have taken Ellie and gone to Wyoming to talk things out. Once she saw Ellie, she might have changed her mind. He couldn’t do it, though. Shannon was as miserable as he was in the marriage, and staying together for Ellie’s sake wasn’t the solution. But he’d thought Shannon would make some effort to see Ellie. When she didn’t, he’d decided to raise his daughter alone.
Ellie was the best part of his life, and he didn’t want Marisa anywhere near her. That might be a little extreme, but it was the way he felt.
A familiar anger welled up in him. Seeing her, listening to her rekindled that pain of rejection, and he knew that he hadn’t learned to control his feelings for her.
And he didn’t know if he ever would.
AS MARISA DROVE, memories of Colter wrapped around her. In the early days, thoughts of him had been painful, but time had eased the pain and she could now think calmly about the past. Or some aspects of the past, she reminded herself. Not her baby…
She’d first seen him at the rodeo, then later at one of the parties given for the cowboys. She’d never met anyone like Colter, and without knowing how, she’d realized he was going to change her life.
He had made her feel so special, so alive, so much a woman, and when he’d asked her to marry him, she had happily agreed. They loved each other and nothing else seemed important. The stupidity of youth still astonished her. Why had she ever thought—?
She inhaled deeply, but it didn’t stop the memories. When her mother had returned home and found her gone, she’d called Stacy, who was then back in New York, and got the whole story—that Marisa had decided to stay in Nevada and was getting married. Announcing the news was like putting a match to gasoline, and the scenes that had followed were not pleasant. It had been the beginning of Marisa’s nightmare.
A sob left her throat and she forced herself to look at the directions in her hand. She turned off the highway onto a blacktop country road. As she did, she noticed the dark thunderclouds. A storm was brewing, as Cari had said, but she’d be back in Dallas before it broke. Dinner with her mother would be an ironic ending to the task ahead of her.
TULLEY CAME THROUGH the back door, removed his hat and folded himself into a chair opposite Colter. Jackson Tulley was like a father to him. Everything Colter knew about riding, Tulley had taught him. He’d been there for every win and every loss. He also understood every hurt and pain Colter suffered, because he suffered them, too.
Tulley and Colter’s father, James Kincaid, had been best friends, riding the rodeo circuit in their off time. James died when Colter was ten, and Tulley nurtured the boy’s rodeo interest with his mother’s approval. Looking back, Colter didn’t know what he would’ve done without Tulley in his life.
“You still brooding about seeing her today?” Tulley asked, watching Colter’s dark expression.
Colter tightened the hold on the cup. “I can’t get it out of my mind. I turned around and there she was. I couldn’t make myself walk away from her. I wanted to say so many things, but I’m not sure what I actually said. I just don’t know what she was doing there.”
Tulley ran one hand through his thinning gray hair. “Think about it, boy.”
Colter raised his head. “What?”
“Marisa Preston.”
“Yeah. What are you getting at?”
“Either you’re getting dense or you have a mental block.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Tulley?”
“Richard Preston, owner of Dalton’s Department Stores. Marisa Preston. There has to be a connection.”
“God, I never put it together.” Colter ran both hands over his face. “She said her father lived in Texas, but she never mentioned what he did.”
“Back then you two didn’t do much talking.”
Colter thought they had, but in reality Tulley was right. They had hardly known each other. He couldn’t understand why his memories of her were still so strong.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” Colter replied. “She’s obviously working for her father now. What happened to the pianist career I don’t know, nor do I care. She’s not going to get her hooks into me again.”
Tulley’s eyebrows shot up. “Did she show any interest?”
“No, not really. She wanted to tell me something about the past and I didn’t want to hear it.” He ran his hands over his face again. “God, Tulley, why can’t I forget her? It’s been years and yet—”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Yeah.” Colter gazed out the window, his eyes matching the dark clouds gathering outside. “When I won at the finals in Vegas and she was there, I felt like king of the world. I spent a lot of my winnings on a ring, and when I got back to the motel room, she was gone. I hit the ground so hard, I’ve never recovered. No other woman ever made me feel like that. Not even Ellie’s birth dimmed it.”
Tulley just nodded. He’d heard the story before, and he cursed the young girl who had the power to hurt this man so much. Changing the subject seemed like the best thing to do.
“Becky got everything set for the stores in Austin?”
Colter took a long breath. “Yeah. She’s worked nonstop to get Kincaid Boots into more western stores.”
“That girl has a good head on her shoulders. Both girls do. You’ve done great with your sisters.”
Colter’s mother had died when he was eighteen and he’d become solely responsible for his two younger sisters, Jennifer and Rebecca. Tulley and his wife, Cora, had moved in with them and Cora had stayed with the girls while the men were on the circuit. But his sisters had always been level-headed and responsible and never given him any problems.
Becky and Jen had business degrees, and together they ran the Kincaid Boot Company. Colter put his expertise into the design of the boot, and Bart, Jen’s husband, who had a marketing degree, had turned Kincaid Boots into a thriving enterprise. Thanks to Becky’s drive, Jen’s management skills and Bart’s commercial savvy, a lot of western stores were carrying the Kincaid Boot. Accessories had recently been added.
Years ago they’d all lived in a small three-bedroom house, and when Colter had built this house he’d wanted it big, with enough room for everyone. But by then everyone was older and going off in different directions.
The girls were in college when Cora passed away. It had been a difficult time for all of them, but they’d had each other, and had adjusted. Jen was already dating Bart and soon married him. Becky lived in the house for a while, but then she became so involved in making Kincaid Boots a success that she was gone a lot. He’d encouraged her to rent an apartment in town because he didn’t want her to feel honor-bound to stay because of Ellie.
Ellie was his responsibility, and Becky deserved her own life. After many discussions, she finally rented a place not far from the Kincaid offices, but he still kept a room for her and Jen to use whenever they wanted to come home. It was just the three of them there now—Ellie, Tulley and him.
Colter took a sip of coffee. “I’m very proud of them. They’ve done wonders with Kincaid Boots. Of course, Bart helped a lot, too.”
“I think your name had a little something to do with it.”
“Yeah, but they did all the work.” He stared at his cup. “I was busy raising Ellie.”
There was silence for a second.
Tulley cleared his throat. “Jen will probably spend less and less time on the business now that she and Bart are expecting.”
“Jennifer’s always been a homebody, and if she wants to stay home with her baby, then I’m all for that. A baby needs a mother.”
Silence again.
“Dammit, Colt, boy,” Tulley said, reading his mind. “Shorty’s fine without a mother.” That was what he called Ellie—and had since the first day he held her.
“I don’t know. She has a dog that she insists talks to her and she writes all these letters to Santa. I’ve mailed four already this year. I’m at a loss as to how to deal with some of
these problems.”
“She’s a little girl and she’ll outgrow them. All I see is a happy, imaginative child—and so should you.”
“Speaking of my child, where is she?”
“She’s at the corral looking at that new horse you bought.”
Colter jumped to his feet. “I don’t want her anywhere near that horse. He’s not broke.”
Tulley shook his head. “Lordy, boy, you’re jumpy. Give Ellie some credit. She knows not to get in a pen with an un-broke horse. We taught her better than that.”
Colter sank back into his chair with a groan. “I’m not thinking straight and I’m all keyed up.”
Before Tulley could answer, Ellie and Sooner came charging through the back door. Ellie rarely walked; she was always in a run, her ponytail bouncing. She slid onto Colter’s lap, and Colter held her tight, maybe a little too tight.
“That horse is real mean, Daddy,” she told him. “He’s pawing the ground, and Sooner growled at him. Sooner said he’s not scared of him, but I think he’s lying.”
Sooner barked.
“Yes, you are, Sooner,” Ellie said, and Colter closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t want to have another conversation about whether or not she could hear Sooner talk, not today. He had to get rid of this restless energy.
“Let’s go see just how mean that horse is.”
Ellie’s eyes grew big.
Tulley swallowed a curse word.
Colter got to his feet. “A good ride will calm him right down.”
“Have you noticed the weather?” Tulley asked. “There’s a storm coming and the temperature’s dropping fast. This is no time to be breaking a horse.”
“Getting soft?” Colter teased, but he knew he was about to do a stupid thing. It wouldn’t be the first time, he told himself, but if he could obliterate Marisa’s memory for those few minutes, it would be worth it.
COLTER HAD A RURAL ADDRESS, but it was easy to find. A couple of miles down the country road she came to a large brick entrance with a huge overhead sign in wrought-iron letters that read Circle K Ranch. She drove over the cattle guard onto a gravel road that led to a house.
Her eyes opened wide in appreciation of the scene that met her. The land was flat and a two-story brick colonial house nestled among huge oaks. Now bare, the trees stood proudly against the chilling wind, enhancing the beauty of the house with its white pillars and mullioned windows. Beyond the detached four-car garage were various barns, outbuildings and corrals, all neatly maintained. She couldn’t help thinking that even her mother would be impressed.
Parking on the circular drive, she took a steadying breath, then ran up the paved walk to the front door. The wind bit through her clothes; it had definitely grown colder. She pulled her cashmere coat tighter around her and rang the doorbell.
There was no answer, so she rang it again. Still no answer. She felt a deep sense of disappointment. It’d been difficult to make the trip at all, and now that she was here, she hated to leave without seeing him. But it seemed she had no choice. It was after four, anyway, and she needed to return to Dallas for the dinner party her father had planned.
As she left the circular drive, a movement from one of the corrals caught her eye. A small child sat perched atop a fence, and Marisa drove in that direction. She stopped some distance away, got out and ran over, hoping she might find Colter.
The child, huddled in a winter coat with the hood pulled over her head, was too engrossed in what was going on inside the corral to notice Marisa. Following the child’s gaze, she caught her breath at the sight of Colter astride a big red stallion.
The horse jumped and twisted, determined to dislodge his rider. Bending his head close to the ground, the horse struck out with his back legs, to no avail.
Marisa walked closer so she could see better. Too late, she realized her mistake. The child turned to look at her at the same time Colter did. As his concentration was diverted, the horse gave a wild kick that sent him flying against the fence.
Stunned, Marisa watched the horse run wild, his hooves threatening to trample Colter’s inert body lying in the dirt. Without thinking, she hitched her skirt high and climbed over the fence. Someone yelled, “Stay back! Stay back!” but she didn’t stop until she heard the sound of hooves close by.
She saw a man waving a rope above his head, trying to guide the horse into another pen. She felt a wave of panic as she realized she was in the corral with a wild horse. All those years ago, she’d been afraid of horses, that hadn’t changed. She held her breath as the horse thundered past her through a gate.
Her high heels hindered her progress over the loose dirt but nothing deterred her as she hurried to Colter’s side. When she reached him, the child called Ellie was already there, holding Colter’s head, crying, “Daddy, wake up! Please wake up.”
Marisa squatted beside them, her hand gently brushing the brown hair from his face. He was completely motionless, and her whole body felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
Ellie glanced up at Marisa, tears streaming down her face. “Is my daddy dead?”
“No, no,” Marisa insisted, staring into green eyes so much like Colter’s. She quickly looked back at Colter, feeling the cold hand of fear grip her heart as she stared at his eyelashes, so dark against the pallor of his skin. His broad chest moved slightly, and she sucked in a breath of frosty air.
Her eyes traveled down to his legs. “Oh, my God,” she said. Something on the fence had ripped his jeans and blood was soaking through the denim.
The man came running over. “Is Colter okay?”
“He’s cut his leg. Would you get me a clean cloth to stop the bleeding?” she asked him.
The man hesitated for a second, then walked off to the double doors that opened into the barn and came back with a small towel. She pulled the jeans away and saw a gash about three inches long. It wasn’t deep. That was good, anyway. She pressed the towel against the wound and gave a sigh of relief as the bleeding slowed.
Colter’s eyelids fluttered open.
“Daddy, Daddy,” Ellie cried, kissing his face.
“Oooh,” he groaned, his eyes blinking. “What happened?”
“That mean old horse threw you,” Ellie told him.
“Damn.” He sat up, and as his hand went to his head, his eyes caught hers. “What are—?”
“You cut your leg on the fence,” she broke in.
Colter’s dazed eyes focused on her.
“Please leave,” he muttered in a thick voice.
“Colter, you’re hurt and…” Her voice trailed away as he struggled to his feet.
Marisa and Tulley immediately tried to help him.
Colter shook off Marisa’s arm.
“Who are you?” Ellie asked, staring at her.
“Uh—I’m Marisa Preston, a friend of your dad’s. I knew him a long time ago.” Silence followed.
“Lots of people know my daddy,” Ellie declared a moment later. “He’s a famous rodeo rider.”
The two men walked slowly to the house, Ellie and a grayish brown dog running ahead. There was no invitation for Marisa to come in, but she hesitated only a fraction of a second before trailing after them. She had to talk to Colter.
As they walked to a covered walkway, a light sleet began to fall and the cold wind tugged at their clothes. Shivering, she followed the others through the door and down a hallway—there was a laundry room to the right and a closet on the left. They entered a spacious breakfast nook and a kitchen decorated in a lovely country style. Touches of cobalt-blue and white milk glass were here and there, and the white-and-blue tiled floor only added to the feeling of warmth.
Marisa looked around for Shannon but didn’t see her. It suddenly dawned on her that this was inappropriate. She shouldn’t be here interrupting his family life. She should have called and arranged a meeting—that would’ve been the proper thing to do. Since confronting him in the store, though, she hadn’t been thinking too clearly.
&nbs
p; “Ellie, turn up the heat. It’s getting cold,” Colter said, and slumped into a chair.
Ellie disappeared, and the man knelt in front of Colter with a first-aid kit and began to clean the jagged cut.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“I’ve been fixing his cuts, bruises and broken bones for more years than I care to remember,” the man replied. “So, no, I don’t need any help.”
That voice finally jogged her memory. “I’m sorry, Tulley, I didn’t recognize you.”
Tulley slit Colter’s jeans slightly to bandage the cut, then rose and faced her. “It’s been a long time, Marisa, and under the circumstances I think it’d be best if you left.”
Marisa bit her lip for fear it would start to quiver. This man had been kind to her once, but now kindness was not extended. She should leave; she’d already acknowledged that, but for some reason she couldn’t make herself go. The urge to talk to Colter was still strong, overriding good manners and common sense, and it kept her rooted to the spot.
“Daddy, what’s all that noise?” Ellie asked, running into the kitchen.
The adults had been so involved with one another that they hadn’t noticed it was sleeting in earnest now and that the wind howled.
“It’s just sleet, angelface.”
“Oh boy! Is it gonna snow, Daddy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“C’mon, Sooner, let’s go see,” Ellie shouted, and rushed out the door with the dog behind her.
“Ellie…”
“I’ll get her,” Tulley offered, glancing from Colter to Marisa. Colter nodded and Tulley left.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” she said as his eyes bore into her. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your life with Shannon and your daughters, and I…”
Colter looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I just saw Shannon from a distance in the store and I assumed the other little girl was yours, too.”
“If you saw Shannon, you have very good eyesight. She lives in Wyoming. The other little girl is Lori, my daughter’s best friend. The woman was my sister, Becky. It’s just Ellie and me now.”