by Brenda Mott
Back home, Tess had promptly called Doc Baker, who came out as soon as he could and examined the mare. He proclaimed her salvageable, gave her wormer medication and a vaccine to guard against tetanus, influenza and sleeping sickness, and recommended a top-notch farrier to trim her grossly overgrown hooves. Tess’s own farrier, married to Macy’s former 4-H leader, had moved away last week.
With the mare under Doc’s watchful eye, Tess left the barn long enough to call the number on the business card he’d given her. To her delight, the “Johnnie” Blake who answered the phone turned out to be a woman. She promised to drive out the next day and take care of the mare. Tess applauded the fact that her new farrier was female, especially since the gray would require some extra-special attention and Tess stubbornly refused to believe that any man could have as big a heart as a woman when it came to needy animals.
Back in the barn, she found the old mare down. Heart in her throat, she watched Doc Baker tend to her with gentle hands and a soft voice. He’d quickly reassured Tess that the horse was fine. She simply suffered from exhaustion and had spent the reserve of her energy for the day. Still, he stayed with the animal for the better part of an hour to be certain she was indeed okay. Before he left, he told Tess not to hesitate to call him in the middle of the night if necessary, blowing her theory of insensitive men all to hell.
Then Macy had ridden over, begging her to give Amber a home. Next had come her argument with Wade Darland.
Twisting the cap off a longneck bottle of Coors Light, Tess leaned back in a kitchen chair, propping her booted feet on its neighbor.
Now, there was a man who was enough to drive any woman to drink. Good-looking as all get out, he nevertheless irritated her beyond words with his attitude. Lord, what was wrong with him? Upsetting poor Macy that way. What did he plan to do? Ship her horse off to the killer? That was likely the only buyer he’d get for a mare in her twenties. The horse was still ridable, but not so fit for speed events anymore. Macy thought Amber was about twenty-three, but she wasn’t sure because the mare wasn’t registered.
Tess took a swig from the longneck, then rose to check on her boiling pasta, sidestepping one of her cats as he laced himself between her ankles with a plaintive meow, begging. “You won’t eat pasta, Champ, and you know it.”
The sound of a truck in her driveway sent her to look through the screen door. Her heart did a dive. Wade Darland climbed from behind the wheel of a battered Ford pickup, his gray hat dusty, his boots scuffed. What did he want now?
The last of the sun’s rays made a backdrop against his shoulders as he headed up the sidewalk. Duke lunged at him, taking a snap at his heels, and Wade shouted. Tess opened the screen and gave a sharp whistle that had all three dogs retreating to the porch. Wade hesitated halfway up the walk, eyeing Duke. At a hundred and five pounds, the shepherd looked like a canine version of Arnold “I’ll be back” Schwarzenegger. Or maybe more of a “make my day” kind of dog, as he showed Wade his teeth and the length of hair rising on the back of his neck.
“You’re okay,” Tess called out. “He won’t bite now.”
Wade appeared skeptical but strode up the walk anyway, then waited while Tess took hold of Duke’s collar before coming all the way up the steps. “Be nice, Duke,” she said.
“Duke?” Wade raised one eyebrow. “You’ve been watching too many John Wayne movies, Tess.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “All right. Maybe I deserved that one.” She nodded toward the screen door. “Go on in.” Only after he was safely inside did she let loose of Duke’s collar. “So what’s up?” she asked, closing the screen behind her. “Did you come here to lecture me on the evils of horse rescue, or were you planning to drive splinters under my nails until I agreed to give up my quest?”
He glared at her. “That’s a fine way to treat a neighbor, Tess.” He nodded at the beer. “Got another one of those?”
She huffed out a noise that let him know she found his manners sorely lacking, then opened the fridge and extracted a longneck. On the stove, the pasta boiled wildly. She checked it and found it almost ready.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah. I feed my kids every Wednesday, whether they need it or not.”
Tess turned and shot him a glare, only to find him grinning at her behind her back. The tension in her neck eased, and she allowed herself to return his smile, but only briefly. She couldn’t let his looks disarm her.
“So, why did you come out here?” she asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“I wanted to clear up a couple of things,” he said, taking a pull from the beer bottle. Tess watched his long, strong fingers curl around it, noticed the way his lips covered the brown glass as though he were about to kiss it…and licked her own. He was enough for her to indulge in a fantasy. Enough to make her stupid.
Again, she dragged her thoughts from that direction. Who needed a man, anyhow?
“Clear away,” she said, turning to dump the pasta into the strainer, not caring if it was completely cooked or not. She topped it with broccoli and some chunks of jack and sat down at the table, gesturing Wade toward a chair. “Sure you’re not hungry?”
He scooted out the chair, revealing her black cat, Inky, who lay curled on the cushion. The cat gave Wade an indignant stare at having been moved from his resting place, not offering to budge from his perch. Unceremoniously, Wade lifted Inky from the cushion and set him on the floor, the expression on his face telling her all she needed to know of his opinion on cats. One she’d already heard from Macy. Tess glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He eyed her plate. “You call that a meal? Where’s the meat?”
“Where it’s supposed to be,” she said. “On the hoof, not in the freezer.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “Oh-ho-ho, I might’ve known. A vegetarian.” He said it as though being a vegetarian was a felony. She supposed to a cattle rancher, it might as well be.
Narrowing her eyes, she poked a broccoli floret with the tines of her fork. Pretending it was Wade’s fat head. Arrogant jerk. What kind of man didn’t like cats? “What’s it to you, Darland?”
“Darlin’?” He raised his eyebrows and shot her a grin. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
Tess felt her lips twitch in a near smile. “You know that’s not what I said.” Then she stabbed another piece of broccoli. How did he do that to her? Make her anger run hot, then ooze away, cold, as though he’d dumped a bucket of chilled honey on it.
“Does your daddy know you’re a traitor?”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s right. He supports the cattle and sheep ranchers around here, keeping their livestock in grain products. And all the while you’re shunning meat, eating vegetables like some do-good yuppie.”
Tess let her mouth fall open. She couldn’t help it, and was glad for the fact that she’d already swallowed her bite of ziti. “In the first place, I’m sure my dad is quite aware of my meal preferences. And in the second, I can’t believe you’re sitting in my kitchen, drinking my beer and throwing insults at me! Maybe I ought to call Duke in here.”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’m not staying any longer than it takes to tell you what’s on my mind.” He set the beer down and leaned forward in his chair. “It’s about Macy.”
Immediately, Tess sobered. Had he punished her when they’d gotten home? Had the child retaliated in some way?
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine, no thanks to you.”
“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Beef-eating Rancher, but I wasn’t the one who threatened to sell her mare to the glue factory.”
“I never threatened anything.” Wade’s scowl was back, darkening his hazel eyes to a stormy near green. “I simply tried to get Macy to see the sensible side of things and— Oh, what am I trying to explain it to you for? You sure don’t get it.”
“No, Wade, I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re breaking your dau
ghter’s heart. What would it hurt you to let her keep the horse? You’ve got about five zillion acres between you and your old man, yet you can’t find room for one retired mare?”
He made a huffing sound. “Dad’s not ranching anymore. He sold most of his place to some developers last month so they could subdivide it and make more room for yuppies to move into this valley.” He glared at her as though she were personally responsible.
“Well, don’t look at me. I’m against all the development happening, but what are you going to do to stop it?” The question was a rhetorical one.
“Imagine that.” Wade drew back, startling her with his smile. He raised his beer in toast. “We actually have something in common, Miss Veggie.”
“Don’t call me that.” Tess scowled at him, then shook her head and gave in to the laugh that bubbled up inside her. She raised her own beer bottle, clinked it against his, then sobered. “But really, Wade. You can’t sell Macy’s horse.”
“I already know that.”
She’d been prepared to argue further. His agreement took her by surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t realize I’d upset Macy that much.” He shook his head. “She sure doesn’t think things through the way her mama did. Anyway, that’s one of the things I came to tell you. The other one is, you’re not to interfere with my daughter anymore. You’re her 4-H leader, not her mother.”
“As though I’d want to be, since that would mean being married to you.” She wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from. Actually, she’d love to be Macy’s mom…if only she did indeed come without her dad.
Wade looked stunned by her words. “Well, I reckon there’s not much danger in that,” he said. He downed the rest of the Coors Light and set the bottle on the countertop. “I’d throw that away, but I imagine you’d like to recycle it,” he said. His posture and manner of speech reminded her of Woody Harrelson in the movie The Cowboy Way. Just as much class, she thought with sarcasm. Even more good looks, she admitted reluctantly. And twice as much trouble.
That, she was sure of.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she got up from the table. “Maybe I’d rather see if it will break over your thick skull.” She flashed him a mock smile.
To her surprise, he laughed. “I do like your spunk, Miss Tess Vega,” he said. He pointed a forefinger. “Just remember. You’re Macy’s 4-H leader, and that’s all.” He tipped his hat. “’Night, spitfire.”
“Good night yourself,” she said to his departing back. “Jackass.”
HER PHONE RANG in the middle of the night, and for a minute Tess thought it was the alarm clock. Disoriented, she sat up in bed, then scrambled from beneath the covers to answer.
“Hello?” Heart pounding, Tess realized it was 3:45 a.m.
Her mother.
Please, no.
“Tess, it’s Joy Isley. I’m so sorry to wake you at such an ungodly hour, but we’ve got some horses loose out here, and you were the first person who came to mind.”
Shaky with relief, Tess ran a hand through her rumpled hair. “It’s okay. Where are they?”
“They’ve raced up my driveway from the road, and they keep circling the yard and outbuildings. My dog’s barking woke me up. There’re three of them—the horses, that is. I was going to pen them and call the sheriff later, but I can’t catch them. Bobby’s trying to keep them from running back out on the road. I’m really not all that good with horses. Shoot, maybe I should’ve just called the sheriff and not bothered you.”
“No, it’s no bother, Joy. I’ll be right there.”
Tess hung up the phone and hurried to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face to help her wake up and ran a comb through her hair. Minutes later, she was dressed and heading down the road toward the Isleys’ place with a bucketful of grain and three halters and lead ropes. A single mother, Joy was a regular at the feed store. Her son, Bobby, raised rabbits and pygmy goats. Tess doubted their pens could hold a horse.
A short time later, she pulled her truck into Joy’s driveway, carefully bypassing twelve-year-old Bobby, who stood in the glare of the headlights, waving his arms anytime the stray horses drew near. Tess angled her truck across the driveway to help block their path and climbed out. She didn’t recognize any of the geldings. Two sorrels and a bay, they bore no distinctive markings or brands to differentiate them from the dozens of other horses Tess saw daily in neighboring pastures.
Excited by their strange surroundings, along with the darkness, wind and the bleating goats, the geldings raced in circles, threading their way between outbuildings and the house. One managed to escape onto the road, nearly running over Bobby in the process. Tess gathered two lariats from her truck and strung them from the pickup’s mirrors to the fence posts on either side of the driveway, foiling the escape attempt of the remaining geldings.
Wishing for her team-penning mare, she gave chase on foot after the bay, shaking the grain bucket in his wake. Once he realized his buddies weren’t joining him in his wild escapade, the horse circled back. All three horses bugled loud whinnies into the early-morning air, snorting and running until their coats were damp with sweat. By the time she managed to catch them and help Joy lock them inside some makeshift stalls in the barn, it was after five-thirty.
“I’ll place some calls and see if I can track down the owners,” Tess promised. “Maybe Dad will have an idea who they belong to.”
“Thanks so much, Tess,” Joy said. “I’ve got to go to work, but if you need help with the calls, I can do some on my lunch break.”
“It’s okay. I’ll phone you later and let you know what’s going on.” Tired, eyes burning, Tess undid the ropes from the fence posts and tucked them back behind the seat of her truck once more before driving away. She started to head home, then decided she might as well grab a bite of breakfast on her way through town. Why not? Ferguson lay halfway between Joy’s place and her own.
Yawning, Tess pulled into the parking lot of Audrey’s Café. The cowbell on the door clanged as she entered, but accustomed to the sound, no one looked up.
No one, that is, except Wade Darland.
To Tess’s surprise, he sat at a table with Macy and Jason. She hadn’t noticed his truck in the parking lot, but at any rate, she never would have figured him for the sort of father who would take his kids out to breakfast on a school day. He looked at her in a way that suddenly made Tess aware that her barely combed hair was stuffed under a ratty ball cap.
In a way that also made her notice he was even better-looking than she’d remembered.
Oh, brother.
She really needed to go home, go back to bed and start this day all over.
CHAPTER THREE
WADE NEARLY CHOKED on a piece of bacon when he glanced up and saw Tess walk into the café. He couldn’t believe that he’d run into her again so soon after their little talk last night. Had she seen him driving through town and followed him?
The expression on her face quickly dispelled that notion. She hesitated at the door, as though unsure whether to wave or simply take a seat. Her gaze scanned the crowded room, and she frowned when she saw that nearly all the tables were full. Before he could decide if he wanted to wave at her, Macy took matters out of his hands.
“Tess!” she called, motioning. “Over here.”
“Macy, I don’t think—”
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Jason grinned around a mouthful of blueberry pancakes. “Don’t you want her to sit with us?” The teasing spark in his son’s eyes said he was enjoying the opportunity to give his old dad a hard time.
“I don’t care one way or the other,” Wade said, ignoring Jason’s smirk as Tess approached the table.
“Hi, Macy,” she said. “Jason.” Then she turned to him. “I’m surprised to see you out and about today.”
“Why’s that?” Wade cut a slice of pancake with the side of his fork.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be here on a schoo
l day.”
“Why not?” He slid the pancake into his mouth and chewed deliberately, letting her squirm, though he’d pretty well figured what she meant. She didn’t consider him the sort of dad who would go to the trouble of waking up extra early to take his kids out to breakfast on a morning when getting ready for school was hectic enough in itself.
But before Tess could reply, Jason spoke up. “It’s $1.99 pancake day. Dad says it’s smart to take advantage of such a good deal.”
Wade squirmed. That made him sound cheap, but dang it, a single father had to cut corners wherever he could.
“It’s $3.50 if you get a side of bacon,” Macy added. Then she grinned. “But I guess you don’t have to worry about that, huh, Tess?”
“No, I guess not.” Tess folded her hands over the back of the empty chair next to Wade. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Go right ahead.” He gestured with his fork, feeling a little guilty for not having offered before she could ask. But only a little. He really didn’t relish the idea of sharing with Tess Vega his weekly morning out with the kids.
The waitress spotted Tess and hurried over. “What can I get for you, hon? Today’s our $1.99 pancake special. All you can eat.” She nodded toward the buffet table centered in the room. “Bacon or sausage is extra.”
“Just the pancakes will be fine. And a glass of orange juice, please.” Tess smiled, and Wade noticed she had dimples.
Well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed them before. It was just that he’d never paid attention to how cute they made her look. He grimaced inwardly. Cute. Tess was that, all right, in an immature sort of way. Today her braids were gone, but it didn’t much matter. She’d crammed a ball cap over her hair, which looked as though it hadn’t seen much time with a comb of late, and she wore her usual bib overalls with a blue tank top underneath.