by Debra Webb
“That won’t be necessary.” Paige could certainly handle things if Robert’s ranch manager couldn’t work for a couple of days. “I can do whatever needs to be done myself.”
“I have a feeling you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he said flatly.
“I said I’d do it myself.”
“There’s a lot more to it—”
“What’s wrong with you, Blackrope?” she cut him off. “Don’t you understand English?” She’d had it with his arrogant, self-assuming attitude. Paige didn’t want him taking care of her.
“I understand completely. I’m just not so sure you do.”
“I spent every summer of my life on this ranch until college. I think I have a pretty good idea of what has to be done.”
“I thought maybe you’d forgotten about those summers.”
“I only forgot the parts I wanted to forget.” She didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in his dark eyes. The hurt reverted to contempt so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.
“All right, then.” His lips eased back into a firm, thin line. “If you decide you need help with anything, let me know.” He turned and started down the steps.
Paige shook her head. That was a low blow and she knew it. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I do appreciate your offer to help.” She wanted to wring his neck, not hurt his feelings. She didn’t hate him... that much. No matter what he had done in the past, he didn’t deserve that.
He hesitated and then looked back over his shoulder, his profile harsh and flinty. “Don’t thank me, Paige. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Robert.”
Paige slammed the door shut in response to his stinging rebuke. She felt the tears well in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She had cried over Nathan Blackrope the last time she ever intended to. She closed her eyes and allowed the image of Jesse to envelope her. She’d never have put herself in this position if it weren’t for Jesse. Any other time she would’ve turned Robert’s invitation to come to Trinity down flat. But fate had forced Paige to see that she had no choice. So here she was in Trinity to try and settle the past with a man who didn’t know the meaning of compromise.
Despite everything she had told herself, it only took one kiss for her to know that her feelings were still way too strong for Nathan. No matter. She and Nathan were over. She would never forgive him for what he’d done. Even if he got down on his arrogant Apache knees and begged her to forgive him for being the jerk he was—which he would never do—Paige would not forgive him.
~*~
Nathan braced himself against the truck. He closed his eyes and tried to still the emotions raging inside him. He concentrated with all his might to erase from his mind the picture of Paige standing there in that skimpy undershirt, her face still flushed with sleep. Blue eyes clear and bright. Soft, blond hair flowing over her shoulders. Slender curves and long, shapely legs that could drive a man crazy. Just looking at her had awakened the long-buried hunger he’d never felt for anyone else.
Why in the hell didn’t Robert tell him she would be here? Paige Weston was the last person on earth Nathan wanted to see. He didn’t like being reminded of the past. Robert, the old fox, had pulled one over on both of them. She had been just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.
The way his body reacted to hers tonight proved beyond a doubt that he would never get over her, not even if he lived a dozen lifetimes. He’d tried every way known to man to forget Paige, but he couldn’t. She was part of him. She had been since the first time he’d seen her.
Nathan had been ten at the time and angry—very angry. When Amos Collins had married his mother and brought the two of them to Trinity, Tennessee, from the reservation in Arizona, Nathan had done everything in his power to fight the situation short of running away. Though he’d hated Trinity, he would never have left his mother. She was the only real family he had left.
Then Robert Weston’s little niece came along in that frilly pink dress. Only eight years old, with pale blond hair and sky blue eyes. Like a vision in answer to his prayers and fasting. Nathan smiled as he thought of the little girl she used to be. Somehow she had made things all right for him in his new home.
Nathan dropped into the seat of his truck and started the engine. God, how he’d loved her. They’d grown up as best friends and somewhere along the way their feelings for each other had gone deeper. Soul mates, that’s what they’d called each other. Destined to be together for all time—until she’d broken his heart. Losing Paige had left him empty. No matter how hard he had tried, he hadn’t cared about much since. Nathan went through life doing what he had to do and nothing more. He damned sure didn’t have any right to kiss Paige the way he had just done. But that had been about punishing her. Fact was, he’d only punished himself.
Nathan shoved the gear shift into reverse and backed up enough to turn around. He spun away from the house and headed down the long drive. Living right across the road from Paige for the next two weeks wasn’t going to be easy. He had trained himself not to think about her most of the time, but it was the nights that got to him the worst. He would lay awake at night and think about how it could have been. He thought of all the years that had passed. Hundreds of nights that she should have been in his arms. Should have been bearing his children. Damn Elliott Weston, anyway. And damn her. Paige had allowed her father to come between them.
Nathan stopped the truck and released a long breath. He looked from right to left before pulling across the dark, deserted highway. He floored the accelerator and drove like a bat out of hell down his own drive. Elliott Weston might be a blood brother to Robert Weston, but that was sure as hell all they had in common. Paige’s father was a pompous bigot. He didn’t want his lily-white daughter to marry some Apache boy right off the rez. He wanted her to be exactly like him. And of course, Elliott Weston always got what he wanted.
Distracted by his anger, Nathan stamped the brake and skidded to a sideways stop just short of plowing through his front porch. He turned off the ignition and pressed his head against the steering wheel. He didn’t want to think about all this anymore. It hurt too much. Maybe he had scared her just bad enough that she’d go running back to daddy come morning.
He flung the truck door open, pushed himself out and stared back toward the Weston spread. He struggled to control the rage he felt. He didn’t want to feel any of this.
“Go back to Memphis, Paige,” he shouted into the wind. “There’s nothing in Trinity for you.”
Chapter Two
“Everything is under control, Robert,” Paige said into the cordless handset. “No, I haven’t seen a soul,” she lied. Paige had a sneaking suspicion that Robert had planned to throw her and Nathan together as much as possible during this visit. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how well his plan had worked.
“Yes, I feel fine,” she lied again. She hadn’t really felt fine since the surgery, but there was no point in dwelling on it.
She gave her reflection in the bureau mirror one last look. Jeans, T-shirt, ponytail. Good enough for country life, she decided. She listened to Robert’s voice on the other end of the line as he prattled on about the redecorating. She frowned at his unnecessary concern.
“Robert, please. You underestimate me. I spend my days battling hotshot district attorneys. How tough can a couple of home improvement contractors be?”
Robert shifted the conversation to a brief overview of the honeymoon thus far as she made her way down the upstairs hall. Just when she thought her dear, sweet uncle would finally say goodbye, he set in about the redecorating again.
“Everything is fine here. Yes, I read your note and reviewed the paint chips, wallpaper, and carpet swatches you left.” She sighed. “Yes, I’ll keep you up to date. I’m—”
She came to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs and did a double-take. A man wearing white overalls walked across the downstairs hall and out the front door. She shook her head, blinked and looked again. She had to be se
eing things. As if to prove her wrong, the front door opened, the man came back inside and disappeared into the parlor.
“I have to go, Robert. You and Ginny have a good time.” Paige pressed the off button and bounded down the stairs.
When she reached the parlor her mouth dropped open. Three men in white overalls were painting. All the furniture had been moved to the center of the room and covered with large white drop cloths. The windows were bare of curtains. Clear plastic had been spread around the perimeter of the room to protect the floor.
How did these guys get in? How long had they been here? A good while from the looks of things, she decided in answer to her own question.
“Excuse me,” Paige announced. All three men stopped painting and turned to look at her. “How did you get in this house?”
“We’re the painters,” the shortest of the three told her.
Duh. “How did you get in?” she repeated.
“We have a key,” the man she had instantly dubbed Shortie replied and patted his pocket. “We were scheduled to start at seven sharp this morning,” he added, as if she should know this information without asking.
Paige just nodded. Who else had Robert given a key to? Another small town custom, she presumed. She suppressed a yawn and considered that, discounting the houseful of strangers, waking up without legal work hanging over her head was very nice. She had even slept a little late this morning for the first time in a long time. It felt good to pamper herself for a change.
Coffee flitted through her mind, but she banished the temptation. No stress and no caffeine. “I’ll be at the barn if you need me for anything,” she called as she headed for the front door.
She bounded off the porch into the bright morning. She lifted her face to the sun’s kiss and reveled in the sensation of warmth. An unexpected shiver that rattled her inside and out shook Paige as her thoughts wandered to her midnight visitor. Dawn had been creeping through the windows before she had managed to fall back to sleep. She’d had good reason for sleeping so late this morning. Nathan Blackrope had ruined what should have been a restful night. Of course, worries about the talk with him that she could no longer put off had wreaked havoc well before he had made his personal appearance.
Heat flowed through her, warming her against the morning’s cool breeze, when she recalled Nathan’s ruthless kiss. There would not be a repeat performance of last night’s fiasco. Getting involved with him again wasn’t on her agenda. In fact, it held the number one spot on her list of things she never wanted to do again. No matter how her involuntary reflexes tried to prove otherwise, she wanted no part of his body touching hers. Even if just looking at him did make her burn, she wouldn’t allow it. No way, no how.
The bond she and Nathan had shared still held a little too firmly to suit her. But she had learned her lesson with him the hard way. He didn’t care about her, probably never had. Not really anyway. And when all her cards were on the table, any lingering feelings he might harbor for her would vanish. He wouldn’t take it well. Of that she felt certain. That was the very reason she had no intention of telling him anything until she was sure. Sure of what, she didn’t exactly know. Paige trusted her instincts. Instinct would tell her when the time was right. With that reiteration, she set out in the direction of the barn.
The sweet pungent scent of hay and horses greeted her as she entered the huge barn. She’d loved this barn as a child. She glided her hand across the worn-smooth top of one stall. They had used the stall railings for balance beams. The loft had been their hideout or playhouse, depending on Nathan’s mood. Nathan. Paige kicked a clod across the floor. Didn’t she have one single memory on this ranch that didn’t include him? Probably not.
“Hello, Windborne.” Paige stroked the neck of her uncle’s favorite mare. “Whoa, girl. You’re about ready to pop.” She rubbed her hand over the horse’s distended belly. So this was the reason for Nathan’s visit last night. Windborne wasn’t just any old hunk of horse flesh. Robert talked about her like they were related by blood.
Funny, Paige thought, that he hadn’t mentioned Windborne’s pregnancy to her. Robert’s omission made her feel just a bit left out, especially since Nathan knew. Robert usually shared everything with her. She’d be sure to ask him about it the next time he called. And call he would. Though his heart was in Vegas, at least part of his thoughts were still on the ranch. It occurred to Paige then that Robert probably hadn’t wanted to bring up the subject of bearing offspring. Everyone was so careful not to talk about it.
“Okay, girls.” Paige glanced at the yearlings in the long box stall opposite the mares. “And boys,” she amended quickly. “How about some oats? Or whatever James is feeding you these days.”
Paige checked the chart hanging next to the feed room door and verified the kind and amount to feed the different animals.
The only thing she had to do for the yearlings was turn them out. Easy enough, she decided as she opened the side gate.
“Out you go.” The horses trotted through the gate, happy to be free of their confinement. Paige gave the last colt a pat on the hindquarter and watched the horses gallop across the large paddock. She’d almost forgotten how beautiful the animals were. Memories of long rides and Nathan’s capable arms around her flooded Paige’s mind. She banished the images, closed the gate and walked back through the large stall.
“Yuck,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the numerous piles of horse manure that lay among the shavings. A very vivid memory of mucking out horse stalls came back to her. “Oh, no. I’d forgotten about that little chore,” she muttered out loud.
Though she’d never actually done it herself, Paige had watched it done dozens of times. How tough could it be? She headed for the tool room and came out pushing a wheelbarrow. A second trip armed her with a tined manure fork.
Paige performed a couple of practice runs with the oversized pooper-scooper. She shrugged. “Scoop. Dump. No big deal.” Anybody could muck out stalls.
~*~
Three hours later Paige rinsed the scoop and wheelbarrow in the wash rack. Her arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. She hadn’t worked this hard since—hell, she hadn’t ever worked this hard. Weak as a kitten, she put the scoop and wheelbarrow away. It would do her good. She needed to work off some of the stress that had been building the past couple of weeks. Ready for a break, she quickly measured oats into two buckets and hurried from the feed room.
“Okay, ladies, soup’s on.” Paige smiled at the four-legged mothers-to-be as she sprinkled the oats into the troughs. Weak from scooping, she dropped the second bucket into Windborne’s stall. “Sorry, girl,” she said, then opened the gate and stepped inside. She murmured soothingly to the animal as she crouched down to retrieve the bucket from between the horse’s legs.
Paige stood more quickly than she had intended. The corner of the hay rack snagged her back, wrenching a yelp from her. Wincing, she let herself out of the stall and returned the two buckets to the feed room. Flexing her shoulders against the sting, she decided to go back to the house to get a look at the damage in a mirror.
The sun was high in the sky now and beating down a little more fiercely than one would expect for an April day. Her head spun for an instant, but she shook it off and chastised herself for skipping breakfast. She should have remembered that hard work and an empty stomach didn’t go well together. The sweat she had worked up had glued her T-shirt to her chest. Paige groaned as she pulled the sticky material from her skin. A shower would be the next order of business.
“I’ll bet you’re wishing you had taken me up on my kind offer about now.”
Paige jerked to a stop. The sound of Nathan’s voice startled her in spite of the fact that she had fully expected him to show up this morning. He’d always taken responsibility very seriously. Another reason she knew she had to work this out with him. She had to tell him everything. But not today. She stared up at his smirk. Not tomorrow. Her eyes skimmed his black-clad body. Maybe not even th
is week. She took in the sight of him sitting astride his shiny black stallion, and wished he weren’t so good-looking.
“Actually, you and your offer were the furthest things from my mind,” she lied.
“Is that right?” He pushed his black Stetson up from his line of vision to rake her with that dark gaze.
Paige squared her shoulders and ignored the butterflies that took flight in her stomach. “That’s right.” Determined to avoid further discussion, she walked around man and horse and headed toward the house. She was still exhausted, and her unsteady gait no doubt broadcast that fact loud and clear. When she was ready to talk to Nathan Blackrope it would be on her terms.
Before she had taken three steps, the squeak of leather warned Paige that he was dismounting.
“Are you hurt?” Nathan’s strong hand clutched her right arm from behind, effectively halting her forward movement.
“I’m fine,” she hissed as she attempted to free herself. The heat from his palm singed her skin.
“How did you do this?” he asked sharply.
Paige winced when he pulled the fabric away from her skin and examined more closely the scratch between her shoulder blades. “On the hay rack in Windborne’s stall. It’s just a scratch.”
“Scratch?” Nathan swore.
“I’m fine.” She shrugged off his touch and started across the yard once more. She wasn’t about to let him see her collapse. She would have to admit her other weaknesses soon enough. Her head swam again, but she ignored it, forcing one foot in front of the other.
Without warning, Nathan swept her into his arms and strode toward the house.
“Put me down! What do you think you’re doing, Nathan?”
“When did you eat last, Paige?”
“What I do is none of your business!”
He paused to stare down at her. “I’m making it my business. I’ll bet you still forget to eat.”