by Renee Roszel
When he opened the door he was smiling, saying, “You’re early with dinner. Just set it—” His grin faded. “Anna! I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know, Thad, it’s just that I have to tell you something that can’t wait.”
“Oh.” He frowned. “Sure. What is it?”
Misgivings skittered along her spine. Something wasn’t right. He was holding a glass half full of a clear liquid and decorated with a twist of lemon. He wasn’t inviting her inside, and he was wearing his new houndstooth-check sport jacket. Awfully dressy attire for going over estimates. “May I come in?” she asked. “This is rather private.”
He swallowed and nervously glanced over his shoulder. “Look, Anna,” he said, obviously uncomfortable, “this is awkward. But I’ve been meaning to talk to you, too. About us.”
Curious, Anna peered around him and saw a woman with short red hair sitting at his chess table, sipping from a wineglass. Anna’s gaze veered back to Thad. “Isn’t that the woman from the hospital?”
He grimaced, as though caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Um, yes, it is. See—” he exhaled long and loudly, as if searching for words “—I don’t know how to say this, Anna, but things haven’t been, you know, clicking with you and me, and, well, I ran into Lydia last week at the Jim Dandy’s Drug Emporium. We were both refilling our allergy prescriptions, so we got to talking about the unbelievable mold-spore count this month and—” He stopped, running a finger under his shirt collar. “Anyway, I found out she loves chess, and would you believe, Lydia and I are allergic to exactly the same stuff? It’s eerie how much we have in common....”
Anna stared at him perplexed, then the irony of the situation struck her. “Why, Thad Kelly,” she breathed, incredulous, “you’re dumping me, aren’t you.”
He winced. “Don’t say it like that. You and I both know something’s missing between us. You’ve changed—I can’t put my finger on what it is exactly.” He reached out and squeezed her arm. “You’ve been trying not to show it, and I love you for that, but let’s face it, you’re not happy when you’re with me, and you should be—that is, if you really loved me.” He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “You know I’ll always love you, but...”
“I understand,” she cut in softly. Then, with a rueful smile she uncurled her fingers to display the ring. “Maybe you ought to take this back. I have a feeling you’ll find a better use for it.”
His features closed in a bewildered frown. But after a few seconds, he smiled. “You’re not angry?”
She shook her head, dropping the ring into his breast pocket. “Not a bit. Good luck to you and Lydia—and congratulations on your matching mold-spore thing.”
He chuckled self-consciously. “You’re a great girl, Anna. And the rooms downstairs are yours as long as you and your uncle need them.” He kissed her cheek. “Friends?”
She hugged him. “Always, Thad.”
When he’d reentered his suite and closed the door, she sagged against the wall feeling both great relief and new terror. “You know what you have to do now,” she muttered to herself, not sure she had the courage.
ANNA FEARED a trip to Bent River Ranch was a fool’s errand, but she forced herself to climb into her truck and head there.
Darn it! Even though she was alarmed about facing Dusty, she was indebted to him for everything he’d done for Steven, and she knew she’d never rest until she’d apologized. So she’d kissed her uncle good-night, told him she’d see him in the morning and left to make her groveling amends.
She was admitted to the house by a startled, yet clearly pleased Max, and ushered into a parlor down a hall in the wing opposite from Dusty’s office. She’d never been in this room before. The walls were mustard yellow, the floor terracotta. The furnishings were Western in design and an interesting Spanish grandfather clock dominated the far wall. Brown Spanish pottery adorned the tile mantel over the fireplace and sat in decorative disorder on a long low set of bookshelves.
She wandered around for a few minutes, then perched on the brown leather couch. After five more minutes, footfalls in the hallway made her stiffen. Someone was approaching. A man. She frowned; it didn’t sound like Dusty. There was an easiness to this tread that she’d never heard in his.
She stared fearfully at the closed door. What if Dusty had refused to see her? She hadn’t thought of that. The door swung wide and a stranger entered. He was very like Dusty in coloring, but, although there were other similarities, somehow he was not as impressive as Dusty.
He smiled politely. “So, you’re Miss Andrews? I’m Brett Dare, Dusty’s big brother.”
Of course. Back from his honeymoon. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dare.” She came abruptly to her feet. “I... I was hoping to see Mr., er, Dusty. I’m sorry if there was some confusion.”
He laughed. It was a deep bold sound so like Dusty’s it made her tingle. “No confusion. Dusty’s out of town. Let’s see, he’s either in Texas buying a company, or performing in the Trail of Tears pageant in Tahlequah.” He shrugged carelessly and ambled over to hold out a hand. “I understand you took up the slack around here during our emergency last month, and I want to thank you.”
She accepted his hand, preparing to leave. “It was the least I could do...” The sentence trailed away, her cheeks going hot at the reminder of Steven’s theft. “I’m sorry I bothered you so late. I wasn’t really thinking. You see, I saw Steven today for the first time since—uh, anyway, he told me everything Dusty did for him, and, well, then Thad and I broke off our engagement. I don’t know, I just wanted...” She swallowed, aware that she was prattling on, but wasn’t able to stop. “I just wanted to say I need to see Dusty in person to apologize for the things I said before I left. I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t want to see me, but... Oh, maybe I’d just better go.”
“I tell you what,” Brett said, checking his watch. “Why not stay here for the night and have brunch with me and Patty and Nicole tomorrow.” His grin had broadened inexplicably. “I hear we have you to thank for her new hobby.”
“Me?” She was embarrassed by running off at the mouth the way she had and was grateful for a change of subject. “What hobby?”
“Tuba lessons. How could you forget?”
He made a wry face which Anna found so charming she actually smiled back. “How is Nicole?”
“The little squirt’s going steady with another tuba player from her music class, so she’s as blissful as any fifteen-year-old can be.” He crossed his arms and sighed in mock exasperation. “The young stud comes over here, and the two of them play their tubas for the goats. They must be getting better. The goats hardly ever faint anymore.”
She grinned in spite of her anxiety. “That reminds me. I appreciate your keeping them for us. Please bill us for—”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “Nicole wouldn’t part with them. We owe you for renting them to us.” Surprising her, he took her by the arm. “Say, Miss Andrews—”
“Call me Anna, please.”
“Okay, then, Anna. I know Nicole would love to see you, and I want you to meet Patty. Stay over and have breakfast. Besides, I think Dusty’ll be getting back fairly early. You could say your piece to him without making another trip out here. Kill three or four birds with one stone. And I saved the best for last.” He lifted a teasing brow. “Nicole might be convinced to play her tuba for you. Or she might be convinced not to, if you bribe her.”
Anna’s shy grin returned. When the Dare brothers put on the charm, they were hard to resist. She gave a start when the grandfather clock loudly started to chime midnight. Raising her voice over the din, she said, “I had no idea it was this late. I shouldn’t have bothered you without calling first.”
“No problem,” he protested, dropping his hand to her wrist. “I’m a night person, anyway. And no offense, but I heard that truck of yours coming half a mile away. It would be negligent of me to send you back out at this hour when the chances that you’ll break down on some lo
nely country road are bigger than the national debt. I insist you wait until daylight before heading back. You can use Dusty’s room.”
Anna stumbled to a stop. “But I—”
He grinned. “It’s like this. Patty’s redecorating, and I just remembered that Dusty’s is the only spare room in the place that doesn’t reek of paint. I wouldn’t want to asphyxiate you. Wouldn’t be neighborly. My brother’s not here, so what’s the problem?”
She felt odd being led to Dusty’s bedroom, but she supposed it was silly of her. She’d be up and eating breakfast before he got home. Besides, Brett seemed determined to have his way.
She only hoped she’d be able to sleep in a room with Dusty’s scent everywhere, reminding her of him. In spite of herself, she inhaled deeply. His black straw Stetson was sitting on a wheat-colored, hand-woven bedspread. A pair of black boots lolled beside a twig rocking chair that was draped by a Navaho blanket with geometric designs in cream, black and rust.
The place had such a comfortable, lived-in feel she couldn’t shake the notion that Dusty might walk in at any second, slide on those boots, plant his hat on his head and grin in that sexy way he had—that was, until he recognized her and threw her out on her backside. The unhappy thought made her stomach twist, and she couldn’t quite stifle a groan. Looking apprehensively in Brett’s direction, she prayed he hadn’t heard her, but his expression revealed nothing.
After Brett left, she walked around the room. On a chest of drawers she spied a bronze eagle, its wings stretched wide in flight, as though it was soaring through the sky in unchallenged sovereignty. Drawn by its spirit and strength, she trailed her fingers along the cool metal. The intense stare, inherent vitality and supple beauty of the wild creature reminded her of Dusty. Her heart filled with longing. “Oh, Dusty, why must I love you so?”
ANNA WAS HAVING a terrifyingly real nightmare. She was being swept into the vortex of a tornado; its roaring winds were deafening, and the pain of being banged around in the deadly maelstrom made her flinch and moan. The breath went out of her as something hard hit her stomach, and she whimpered, her eyes coming open in panic.
It was dark, too dark, but she was sure she was awake. Still, she felt a gouging pain in her stomach and heard the bellowing wind. Except...
Except the wind was cursing.
She gasped for air, realizing she’d been tossed over a broad shoulder, bedclothes and all, and was being hauled off to some unknown destination.
An excruciating few seconds ticked by when the pain in her stomach came in frequent bouncy blows. She had the feeling she was moving rapidly downward, but the bedspread draped over her head made it difficult to be sure.
Frightened, she pounded on the kidnapper’s back and cried out, “Let me—oof—down! Let—oof—go of me!” Her breathy demands sounded muffled even in her own ears. She wasn’t certain her captor could hear her at all.
Without warning, she was swept through the air, and then her bare feet came in contact with a cool wooden floor. Off balance she swatted at the sheets until her head was free. Shaking her tangled hair from her face, she spat out, “What is going on!” She froze as she saw who’d dragged her from her bed and dropped her in the entry hall.
“Dusty?” she squeaked, suddenly aware of her state of undress, having worn only her flimsy camisole and panties to bed. Dismayed, she grasped the spread about her. “I... I...” but nothing coherent would come out.
He was standing there, looking every bit as shocked as she was. Clad in jeans and a beige cotton shirt open halfway down his chest, it was obvious he’d just begun to undress before noticing that someone was in his bed.
Doubt and confusion in his eyes, he demanded, “What the hell were you doing in my room?”
“Little brother, if that’s your idea of seduction, no wonder you’ve never married,” called a male voice from the landing above. They both looked up at Brett. He was beaming down at them, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. “Afraid the little goat lady’s presence in your bed was my doing. You’ve been off your feed lately, so I thought I’d try a little experiment. Now I think I’ll just mosey on back to bed. I’ve done my part.”
“Your part?” Dusty snarled. “What the hell does that mean?”
Brett’s laughter echoed back, but he said nothing.
Dusty turned to face Anna. “What the hell’s going on?”
She hiked up the bedspread, feeling exposed and humiliated. With her chin jutting defensively, she retorted weakly, “He told me you wouldn’t be back tonight. Said he wanted me to meet Patty and see Nicole.” She bit her lip. Brett had done this on purpose, and she couldn’t imagine why he’d decided to be so cruel. What had she ever done to him?
In the tense quiet, Dusty’s angry frown turned wary. “Brett knew I’d be driving back from Tahlequah tonight.”
She stiffened her spine, deciding to stand there and take whatever he dished out. “Maybe so. But I didn’t! I know you dislike me, but I can’t see why your brother would want to humiliate me. You Dare men are heavily into paybacks, aren’t you? And to think I came out here to ask you to forgive me.”
“Forgive you? For what?”
“For all the nasty things I said when I left,” she admitted tightly. “Steven... Steven came to see me this morning, er, yesterday morning—whatever.” She shook her head glumly. “Anyway, I wanted to say I’m sorry, okay? I was vicious to you, and now that I know why you couldn’t tell me everything, I want to apologize.” Distractedly she pushed her disheveled mass of hair away from her face.
A muscle began to throb in his jaw. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Tell him about your engagement,” commanded Brett from the landing.
They both turned to stare at Brett. He shrugged and grinned. “Do I have to do everything? Dammit, Dusty, she’s not engaged to that greenhorn ‘cowboy’ anymore.” He winked at Anna. “You tell him, Anna. I need my beauty sleep.” With that he walked out of sight. But this time they heard a door close in the distance and knew they were alone.
Anna glanced at Dusty. His face was closed, cautious. “Is that true?”
She nodded, but stiffly, embarrassed by Brett’s actions. “That’s not why I came, though,” she blurted in self-defense, “I wanted you to forgive me. I wanted to thank you for helping Steven.” She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling helpless. “Oh, I don’t know...I’m confused, out of a job...” Her voice trailed off.
He didn’t speak for a long time, and she opened her eyes, needing to judge his reaction to what Brett had said about her broken engagement. She didn’t want to admit that was the reason she’d come, but she couldn’t kid herself about it any longer. She loved him and she wanted him to love her back. Now he knew she was free. What was he going to do about it?
He was watching her with eyes that were filled with an emotion she couldn’t name. “I’ve already hired a manager, Anna.”
She was standing there wrapped in his bedspread, practically begging for his love, and all he could say was, “I’ve already hired a manager”? Hurt and humiliated, she snapped, “Oh? Well, that’s all I cared about—the job. And since you caught on to my sneaky trick to try and get back into your good graces, I’ll be going. You’re too clever for me!” She turned and struggled toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going in my bedspread?”
“I’m stealing it. What else would an Andrews want with anything of yours?” she retorted, too aware of his nearness for her peace of mind. “I fully expect you to press charges!”
Her feet came off the ground as he swept her into his arms. She reeled dizzily, grabbing his neck to keep from falling.
“I’d rather press kisses along that stubborn little jaw of yours,” he whispered, his breath warm and inviting against her temple. “Are you sure Thad’s out of your life?”
Disoriented, she was unable to form words and could only nod.
“That’s damn good news,” he murmured. “The night you left, I called him to
tell him you were missing, and when you answered the phone sounding all sleepy and sweet...” He paused, his eyes sparking with the painful memory. Then he muttered roughly, “That was the worst damned payback of my life.”
She gasped, remembering that call. Remembering how she’d wished it had been Dusty on the line. “But...but Thad was only putting me up for the night! On his pull-out—”
“When I told you I loved you, Anna,” he interrupted softly, “I meant for better or for worse. Forever.”
She could hardly believe her ears. She rushed to explain, “My mother made me promise, just before she died—” she swallowed, working to finish “—not to get involved with the wild type. She wanted me to find someone loyal and hardworking. Someone I could count on.”
“Your mother never met me, sugar.” Then he kissed her, and the unexpected touch of his mouth made her quiver.
“Anna, Anna,” he whispered against her mouth, “say you’ll marry me.”
She clung to him. “Oh, Dusty. I’ve loved you for so long.” Nuzzling his chin, she said, “But I’ve run from fireworks men like you for so long. I’m frightened...”
“Don’t be.” He smiled. “What if I promise to be loyal and hardworking during the day and all fireworks at night?”
Her heart filled with joy, for she knew that he meant it, and she knew he was not anything like her father. Dusty Dare was a man she could count on for the rest of her days—and her nights. Lifting her lips to his, she conceded with a timid smile, “I think mother would be pleased.”
The kiss they shared made Anna’s heart soar. At last she could give herself over to the passion she’d held in check for so long.
In a delirious flash of happiness, she could see the future—her uncle Bud and Max playing checkers in the kitchen, eating warm slices of Max’s rhubarb pie and spinning yarns about the good old days.
And she saw herself with her strong faithful fireworks man out in the round pen, teaching their children to train championship cutting horses—using his cattle and her goats! Giddy, she lifted her lips from his and teased, “Do I get to train Hazard now?”