by Carol Rose
People Will Talk
By
Carol Rose
Copyright Carol Rose 2012
Second edition Published at Smashwords 2012
First edition published by Kensington
Cover image courtesy of Mark Hayes & Dreamstime.com
Cover by Joleene Naylor
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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For Randy Doss, for his generosity of time and technical knowledge and his quiet, kind spirit.
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Chapter One
If nothing else, the scandal surrounding Nora Elizabeth Hampton proved how unreliable men really were. Total independence was her new motto. And yet, here she was, waiting to ask Bret Maddock a huge favor.
Bret stood in the temporary corral set up in the corner of the pasture, his legs braced as he wrestled a yearling calf off its feet. He wore no hat, and the clear Texas sun glinted off his rumpled dark hair.
Shutting the truck's door behind her, Nora stepped forward. With the noise and activity in the corral, her presence went unnoticed for the moment.
She couldn't help watching Bret as she walked up to the pen. He looked somehow different than she'd remembered. In high school, he'd been everyone's favorite bad boy, too good-looking to be missed and too reckless for a girl like Nora.
They'd traveled in very different groups back then, but even though she'd gone steady with Richard since her sophomore year, she'd noticed Bret. What girl hadn't?
Now the wild boy had been transformed into muscle and sinew that shrieked sex appeal and danger all at once.
Bret held the calf down effortlessly, restraining its struggles as he threw a joke at the cowboy doctoring the animal.
Nora watched him, repressing a shiver in the unusually warm January air. Even as a kid, Bret Maddock had lived life by his own rules. Instinctively, she knew that hadn't changed.
For a woman who'd always done her best to play by the rules, Bret was a mine field of disruptiveness. He did what he wanted, never worrying that the next step could mean the end of someone's goodwill.
No one knew better than Nora how easily goodwill could be lost. Coming back to Stoneburg had taught her that.
One crazy moment had changed her life with Richard. Through no fault of her own, her engagement had ended. And here she was, home again after six years, waiting to make Bret a business proposition he didn't need and probably wouldn't want.
She'd already had one stable refuse to board Chessie. "No room," they'd said, but Nora suspected otherwise.
Just how fast did gossip travel? Had Bret heard about her disgrace? And if so, would the county's most notorious rule-breaker refuse her offer just because Nora had accidentally become Stoneburg's scarlet woman?
Resting her hand on the cool metal fence, Nora waited, unsure as to what his response would be. Since she'd come back to town, people she'd known off and on all her life had been staring at her as if she'd turned into Jezebel. Would Bret condemn her, too?
The calf that was pinned under Bret's knee bawled a protest. As the cowboy finished his task, Bret straightened, allowing the yearling to scramble up and trot off.
A cowhand said something to Bret, nodding in Nora's direction.
He turned and their gazes caught. Nora's heart increased its rhythm. A slow grin eased onto Bret's face, recognition immediate in his eyes.
He walked toward her, his long shotgun chaps molding the length of his muscular legs. Nora swallowed and focused on Bret's face. She'd been acquainted with Bret Maddock all her life, but she'd never had to come begging before, never needed him like she did now. Telling herself she'd find another answer if he refused, she watched him move toward her.
He walked with innate confidence with just the hint of a swagger, as if he'd never known himself to be unwelcome, or never cared if he were.
"Well, if it isn't Nora Hampton." He stripped off his leather gloves, his brown eyes alight with masculine interest.
"Hello, Bret." Nora said coolly. The very fact that she needed his help made her more prickly.
"You look good." His eyes narrowed as he flashed a glance over her, lingering for a second on the roundness of her breasts.
"Thank You." She fought down the sensation of tightness in her throat. Some things hadn't changed. He still looked at her as if he appreciated the scenery.
Bret leaned against the temporary fence panel, his tanned forearms bared by rolled-up sleeves.
Determined not to succumb to his masculine charm, Nora forced a friendly smile. "It looks like you've been keeping yourself busy. Mother mentioned that you've taken on running the ranch since your father retired."
"Yep. Dad had no choice but me since his eldest son took up lawyering and moved to Dallas," Bret joked.
"Richard and I saw Ben at a party last year," she said without thinking, then stopped. Richard was the last thing she needed to talk about. "Ben seemed to be doing well," she finished quickly.
"Happy as a clam," Bret agreed, his eyes not leaving her face. "So what can I do for you, Nora Elizabeth? Assuming you didn't just stop by to watch us rolling in the dirt."
His words reminded her of her purpose, so Nora shoved her embarrassment aside. "I came to ask you a favor."
A smile curled at the corner of his mouth as his eyes darkened. "Just name it, honey."
Nora's heartbeat stumbled. Pressing on, she took a deep breath. "Hoyt Daniels down at the feed store suggested I ask you about boarding Chessie. He said you'd kept his granddaughter's horse last year as a personal favor to him. I'd pay you, of course."
Nora met his gaze steadily, very aware that the Maddock Ranch didn't need the small amount she could pay.
"So you're planning on staying in town awhile?"
"Yes," she said firmly, her chin coming up. ''I'm staying. And I'm starting an equestrian academy to teach English style riding and equitation."
Bret recognized the look on Nora's face. Determination gleamed there, reminiscent of the girl he'd known years ago. It seemed she had a dream, despite the scandal that had followed her from Dallas.
He shook his head, not bothering to hide his smile. "Honey, when you pick a goal, you do it with gusto."
“What do you mean?" she challenged.
"Just that this is Texas," he said with emphasis on the state's name. "It may not be where the west began, but it’s where the west is done best. And you want to teach English riding?"
"There's nothing wrong with variety," she defended. "Equitation is wonderful for teaching discipline,"
He liked the' fire in her face, the way she lost her cool when sparked. The Nora he'd known as a kid had always intrigued him with her curvaceous body and perfect grades. While he'd raised hell and majored in rodeo, she'd been student body vice president and queen of the honor society. A deliciously reserved girl with flashes of spirit in her eyes. Who'd have thought that her life would crash and burn?
With her brown hair glinting in the sunlight as it rippled to her shoulders, and her slender body filled out in all the right places, Bret could see why she'd attracted the wrong kind of attention. But he couldn't see her cheating on her fiancé.
Richard had been made for the business world, sucking up to the next big deal. If anyone would be unfaithful, it would be Richard.
"Will you let me board Chessie
?" Nora asked again.
"Sure," said Bret, enjoying the relief that washed over her expression.
“I’d like to lease the use of a riding ring, too."
"I think that can be arranged," he agreed.
"About the cost," she said, raising her chin again. "I can't pay. Much, but-"
"Why don’t you pay what Hoyt did?" said Bret, knowing he'd surprised her. He'd charged Hoyt two thirds of the going rate. "We'll just call it a personal favor."
"Are you sure?" Nora said with a puzzled frown. "I could manage to pay-"
Bret interrupted her. "Why don't I ride back to the barn with you and show you where you can stable Chessie."
"Okay." A hint of wariness lingered in her eyes. Repressing a smile, Bret turned back to the cowhands still doctoring the calves. "Sam, you guys finish up here. I'm going back to the ranch with Miss Hampton."
Vaulting easily over the fence, he followed Nora to where the truck and horse trailer waited. "This is Hoyt's truck, isn't it?" he mentioned as he got in the passenger side.
"Yes," she admitted. "He loaned it to me to move Chessie."
Nora started the truck with a mixture of relief and suspicion. She wasn't sure she wanted Bret doing "personal favors" for her. Coming from him, it seemed too ... personal.
On the drive over here, Hoyt's old truck had seemed as huge as a boat, but with Bret's long frame occupying the cab with her, Nora suddenly felt constricted in the space.
She kept both hands on the steering wheel, her gaze pinned to the road.
Bret stared at her, his gaze slipping down her body in a slow perusal she tried to ignore. Failing miserably, Nora kept her eyes fixed on the road and searched diligently for something to distract him.
"I understand Bunny got married last year," she said.
"Yep, Iittle sister found herself a Louisiana boy," Bret drawled, his intent gaze not wavering.
"That's nice." Glancing away from the potent power of his charm, Nora gave up the conversation and concentrated on driving.
Minutes later, they pulled up in front of the barn. Eager to remove herself from his disturbing presence, Nora jumped off the truck immediately, hurrying back to the trailer.
Chessie stood placidly in the trailer, lipping at some hay in the feeder.
Balancing herself on the edge of the trailer with one foot, Nora leaned into the front to unhook the mare's halter from the feedbox. When she jumped down and went around to the back, she found Bret opening the gate and settling it on the ground.
"Thanks," she said. Once the ramp was down, Nora unhooked the hose-covered chain behind the horse's rear and patted the chestnut mare on the rump. Chessie backed out of the trailer.
A rush of affection flooded Nora as she grasped the horse's halter. She threw her arm around Chessie, burying her face in the animal's coarse mane. "It's all right, girl. I found a place."
Some of her darkest moments had been eased by escaping to the stables. Nora had never been able to sell the horse even though Richard complained about the time she spent riding.
"She's a beauty." Bret’s voice brought Nora back to the present. "Have you had her long?"
Nora nodded, feeling foolish that he'd witnessed her spontaneous embrace. "My father gave her to me when I graduated from college two years ago."
"That must have been right before he died," Bret commented.
"Yes." she said tersely, refusing to acknowledge the wave of grief that always threatened her when she thought of her father.
“That makes her even more special then," Bret said, his face gentle as he ran a hand down Chessie's neck. "Bring her on into the barn and we'll find a clean stall."
After seeing Chessie settled, Nora paid Bret for a month's stabling. Relieved to have the horse settled, she nearly jumped when Bret reached out and captured her hand.
"Don't you think we ought to shake on it ... or something," he murmured, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
Her hand felt lost in his, surrounded and suddenly sensitive.
"Of course," Nora lifted her eyes to meet his, a bolt of sexual attraction shooting through her. "I really appreciate your stabling Chessie for me."
"No problem."
"Well," she said breathlessly as she withdrew her hand. "I guess I'd better get Hoyt's truck back to him.
Bret's broad-shouldered figure became a silhouette in her rearview mirror as Nora drove away. Turning on to the blacktopped road, she tore her thoughts away from his distracting presence.
When she left the house this morning, she'd promised to meet her mother for lunch. Now she'd have to hurry or she'd be late.
Nora dropped the truck and trailer off at the feed store, retrieving her small Toyota to drive the short distance to Maxine's Cafe.
Maxine's tables had long served the small town of Stoneburg. Although the chain pancake house on the highway had drained off some of its business, Maxine's still functioned as an impromptu gathering spot for the town.
Parking the Toyota, Nora braced herself for her mother's displeasure. There had been many lunches with Mother at Maxine's. With her mother's ill health and habit of worrying, this one boded to be as entertaining as a trip to the dentist.
Nora searched for her mother as she let the cafe's heavy glass door close behind her. From the white gold-flecked Formica to the constant noisy clatter, Maxine’s never changed.
Spotting her mother, Nora wove her way through the crowded tables. She'd hardly made it halfway through the crowd when she realized her progress was being monitored.
At the large round table in the corner, every eye seemed glued to her. Nora looked straight ahead and tried to keep from gritting her teeth.
The censorious stares were difficult to ignore, though, particularly since they came from women she'd known most of her life: Mrs. Brady, the reverend's wife; Mrs. Callahan, the mother of a school friend; Miss Thurman, the town librarian; Cissy Burton, a girl Nora had gone to high school with; and of all people, Wilma Worthington, Richard's mother.
She even saw Mrs. Turner, mother of the mayor of Stoneburg, and owner of the Turner property, which would hopefully be the future home of Nora's riding academy.
Suddenly conscious of her plain cotton shirt and snug jeans, and how rumpled her hair probably looked, Nora couldn't help hurrying to get past that table. As she edged by the crowded space, not one woman uttered a greeting.
The cold silence followed Nora like muddy footsteps.
If Nora had known of the dirty rumors she'd face, she wouldn't have been so eager to come home. Although they'd spent summers in the bigger city of Wichita Falls due to her mother's uncertain health and social inclinations, Nora had always considered Stoneburg home.
So she'd returned to the little Texas town unawares, dismayed to discover that Richard's mother had heard a very different story about the New Year's Eve fiasco.
Once Nora had arrived in town, the woman's poisonous accusations seemed to spread like an onslaught of fire ants. This was Nora’s first visit to Maxine's since returning, and her reception left her feeling chilled.
Finally making it to her mother's table, Nora slipped into a chair, feeling frustrated by the situation.
"When I say twelve o'clock, I mean twelve o'clock, Nora." Her mother's southern accent softened her words.
"Sorry, Mother," Nora said automatically. She'd learned long ago not to react angrily when her mother was upset. Sharon Hampton had borne a lot in her life.
"I ordered the salad for you since you were late." Her mother gestured to the plate of greens and chicken salad.
"Thank you." Nora picked up her fork.
"I suppose you've been out talking to people about your ridiculous riding stable idea," her mother complained. "I wish you'd consider my reputation."
"You were the one who originally had me take riding lessons," Nora reminded, her voice mild.
"When you were twelve years old and needed help with your posture," Sharon said with gentle reproof. "I never intended you to
own a stable and actually teach riding."
"I know, Mother." Nora took a bite of salad and tried to ignore the hissing conversation from the table in the corner.
"Your father didn't pay for you to have an expensive education so you could end up mucking out stables."
Nora sipped her tea. "A Fine Arts degree doesn't go very far in today's job market."
"If you have to work, you could do something more feminine. Miss Thurman has advertised for a librarian's assistant."
Glancing involuntarily at the corner table, Nora repressed an ironic smile. "I don't think Miss Thurman would be interested in hiring me for the job."
"And whose fault is that?" her mother said in a lowered voice. "I don't mean to criticize, Nora, but you handled that situation with Richard as if you'd never been taught better."
The chicken salad tasted like sawdust, but Nora kept chewing. She fought the urge to ask her mother how her upbringing was supposed to prepare her to deal with a sixty-year-old man sliding his hand down the front of her dress during an upscale cocktail party.
There didn't seem to be any acceptable way to form the question, just as there was no acceptable way to announce to the town gossips that she didn't deliberately seduce Richard's boss.
''I'm just glad your father's not alive to suffer this humiliation," Sharon Hampton complained tearfully, ignoring her half-eaten salad.
Nora repressed the urge to utter an impatient retort. She knew life hadn't turned out the way her mother planned. Not only had her insurance agent husband died before retirement, leaving her nearly penniless, but Sharon also suffered from a variety of physical ailments that only added to her displeasure with life.
“It's not like I wanted all this happen, Mother," " Nora pointed out as gently as she could.
Sharon Hampton didn't respond, wiping at the corner of her eye with the flutter of a pale pink handkerchief.
Regret tugged at Nora. Even as a child she'd hated adding to her mother's disappointments. Now, they only had each other. Part of the reason Nora had come home to Stoneburg was her mother's tearful refusal to sell the house she'd first lived in as a young married woman.