Raleigh And The Rancher (Wranglers & Lace #3)

by Laura Anthony

  “All right,” she agreed.

  “Thank you,” he said simply, and leaned back against the wall.

  They lapsed into an awkward silence, Raleigh acutely aware of his masculine presence. She couldn’t stop thinking about their encounter in the back of the trailer. How long had it been since a man had shown an interest in her as a woman? More to the point, how long had it been since any man had been willing to chip past her mounted defenses and really get to know her?

  Shifting his weight, Dan restlessly cracked his knuckles.

  “You sure do that a lot,” she commented.

  “What?”

  “Crack your knuckles.”

  “Oh.” He shook his fingers. “Sorry, bad habit.” Dan looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything else. Raleigh turned her face away and studied the clock on the wall. Four-fifteen. She’d been up since before dawn and her body was feeling the effects of emotional stress and long hours. Her feet ached. Her eyes itched. Her muscles knotted. She blinked and yawned.

  “How about I go find us a cup of coffee?” Dan asked.

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  “You take it black, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “See.” He smiled. “I remember everything about you.”

  The second he was gone, a strange emptiness settled over her, as if the sunlight had been drained from the universe.

  * * *

  Dan wandered down the winding corridors searching for the cafeteria. He couldn’t stop thinking about Raleigh and the events of last night, from the party to the hayride, to the very intense session they’d shared in the back of the tractor-trailer rig.

  The memory stirred him. What would have happened if Caleb hadn’t gotten sick? Would he and Raleigh have consummated their lurking passion? Would he have finally ruptured her bastion of defenses and unearthed her buried emotions? He didn’t know.

  After many false turns, Dan finally found several vending machines. He fed quarters into the slots, listening to them clink as they fell. He pushed buttons and waited for the paper cups to fill with wicked-looking coffee.

  It didn’t matter what might have happened between him and Raleigh. It was a moot point. Now they were back to where they’d started—Raleigh aloof and distant, pushing him away, erecting her angry barriers once more, keeping him at arm’s length.

  Dan sighed. He longed to hold her, comfort her, fortify her with his resilience. She desperately needed someone to lean on—he could see it clearly in her misty gray eyes—yet she didn’t want his help. She resisted him. Resented him even.

  Balancing the coffee cups, he ambled back down the corridor. What to do? Force the issue and maybe send her flying from the ranch? She teetered on the brink of surrendering to him. Dan had felt it in her famished kisses. But he also knew she perceived her body’s needs as a weakness and that was the reason she’d reverted to her old angry stance. She hated to be dependent.

  No, Dan decided. He couldn’t force her to admit her true feelings for him. If he attempted to ensnare her, she’d disappear. So he would wait like a rock—quietly, solidly, eternally, whatever it took to win her trust. The next move belonged to Raleigh.

  He returned with the coffee to find her sitting hunched over, her face buried in her hands. Her vulnerable posture stoked a poignant sense of sadness inside him. How he longed to protect her, to take care of her. If only she would let him into her heart.

  At the sound of his footsteps, she lifted her head and gave him a tired, worn smile. “Thanks,” she said, taking the cup he offered.

  “Any news yet?” He inclined his head in the direction of the operating suite.

  “No.”

  Another long hour passed. They sat side by side, fighting back yawns and watching the hands on the clock inch slowly forward.

  It was five-thirty when Dr. Gilford came to speak to them, his green hospital scrubs blood splattered and his eyes red rimmed. The minute she spotted the doctor, Raleigh scrambled to her feet.

  Dan rose beside her, resisting the urge to put his arm around her.

  “How is he?” she squeaked.

  “Your brother is doing just fine, Miss Travers. We’ll be taking him to the recovery room in a few moments. You can visit him there.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” She clasped the surgeon’s hand. It hurt Dan to see her trembling. He wanted to soothe her, but if he tried, he knew she’d bristle like a porcupine.

  “Caleb’s going to be all right,” she whispered to Dan as the doctor exited the area.

  “Of course he is. Did you really doubt it?”

  “Yes. I was terrified he wouldn’t make it off the operating table alive.”

  “Oh, Raleigh, come here. You look like you could use a hug.” He couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He had to hold her. If she rejected him, then so be it. He held his arms wide and, to his surprise, she launched herself into his embrace.

  Her head pressed into his chest felt so damned good, Dan could scarcely breathe. She rested there a moment, then quickly jerked back and stepped away.

  “I need to see Caleb.” She refused to meet his gaze.

  “Let’s go find the recovery room,” he said, taking her hand, reluctant to relinquish contact with her. “It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

  They walked down the silent corridor until they found the recovery room. Raleigh knocked on the door and a nurse answered. She led them to a small cubicle where Caleb lay sleeping.

  “Five minutes only,” the woman instructed, then left them alone.

  Raleigh leaned over the stretcher and took her brother’s hand. “Caleb? It’s all over, honey. The surgery is finished. You came through with flying colors. It’s me, Raleigh. I’m here.”

  Caleb’s eyes fluttered open. “Am I suppose to feel better now?”

  “Not for a while, I don’t think.” Reaching out, Raleigh gently ruffled his hair.

  “That’s good, ‘cause it hurts like the dickens,” he said, solemnly smoothing his hair back into place. Dan had witnessed that affectionate gesture between sister and brother a dozen times.

  “I’ll have the nurse bring you something for the pain,” Raleigh promised.

  “Hey, Dan.” Caleb wriggled his fingers and Dan waved back.

  “You better get well soon,” Dan said. “We’re planning another party for Halloween and we can’t do it without you.”

  “You guys aren’t mad at me, are you?”

  “Why on earth would we be mad at you?” Raleigh asked.

  “Because I spoiled your evening.” Wincing, Caleb clutched his abdomen.

  “Shh. You stop worrying about us.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. Dan shifted his weight. He felt uncomfortable, intruding on the tender family scene.

  Caleb’s eyelids, heavy from the effects of anesthesia, shuttered closed.

  “We gotta go, honey. They’re only letting us stay five minutes. But we’ll be waiting outside.”

  The nurse arrived at the bedside with an injection for Caleb. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave now,” she said.

  “See you later,” Raleigh whispered.

  Caleb nodded, too drowsy to speak.

  Dan took Raleigh by the arm as they left the room. “Come on,” he said. “I’m taking you out for breakfast and I refuse to take no for an answer.”

  * * *

  Raleigh felt tired, cranky, and more than a little vulnerable. Her hair hung in shambles, her eyes ached, her stomach grumbled. More than anything, she wanted to be at her brother’s bedside, holding his hand. Instead she found herself sitting in Dan’s pickup, staring out the window at the brightening sky.

  She’d been very grateful for his company during Caleb’s surgery. His calm, quiet manner soothed her like a balm, but it also scared her. She could not afford the luxury of liking Dan too much. She must keep her feelings hidden from him. She had to protect herself at all costs.

  “You okay?” he asked, slipping the truck into gear and turning out of the
hospital parking lot.

  “Yeah.”

  “You can cry if you want. I’ll understand. Might make you feel better.”

  Violently she shook her head, disheveled hair tumbling around her shoulders. She pressed her palms to her burning eyelids. She’d love a good cry, but she knew from experience that the tears would not come.

  “You’ve been through a great deal in the last twenty-four hours,” Dan said.

  “Yeah,” she agreed, her voice cracking.

  “Where would you like to go for breakfast?”

  Raleigh sighed. “I’m not up to tackling a restaurant. Besides, I don’t feel right leaving Caleb all alone.”

  “The nurse gave him a shot. He’ll sleep for hours. Relax, Raleigh, they’ll take good care of him.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she mumbled, unable to shake the nagging guilt.

  “Easy now.” Dan spoke as if talking to a skittish horse. “Why don’t we just go back to the ranch? You can take a shower while I make breakfast. Maybe I can even persuade you to take a nap.”

  His plan made sense. She was tired, rumpled and hungry. “Okay,” she agreed. “For a little while.”

  Dan turned the pickup in the direction of Clyde. Raleigh had almost nodded off by the time Dan pulled into the driveway.

  They trudged into the log cabin, not wanting to disturb Pete asleep in the big house. Raleigh went to shower while Dan rustled up breakfast.

  Several minutes later she sat down at the kitchen table, wrapped in a terry-cloth bathrobe, the smell of bacon and eggs filtering throughout the small cabin.

  “I thought you might want to talk,” Dan said, sliding a plate in front of her.

  “What for?”

  He settled in across from her with a plate of his own. “It might help to express your feelings.”

  “I’m scared,” she said before she even knew what she was going to say. Why was she telling him this? Hadn’t she always kept her problems a closely guarded secret? She feared opening up to him more than anything. Revealing her true feelings made her too vulnerable to pain.

  “Of what?” Dan asked, his chocolate brown eyes prying and curious.

  “Losing Caleb.”

  “Why?”

  “He could have died tonight.”

  “Not very likely.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.” She swallowed hard, the thought too terrifying to entertain. “Have you ever lost someone you love?”

  “No, not by death.” Dan sipped his coffee and waited for her to continue.

  “Then you can’t know what it’s like.”

  “I know what it’s like to have a broken heart.”

  “It’s not the same thing.” She shuddered. “Not at all.”

  “You hold on to Caleb too tightly. You’ve got to let him grow up, Raleigh.”

  “How can I let him go? He’s all I’ve got.”

  “You could have me,” Dan said softly.

  Raleigh glared at Dan. Was her panic reflected on her face? “I’ve tried to tell you again and again, I’m not looking for a man. I don’t want to fall in love. Don’t you get it?”

  “No.”

  “There is no such thing as happily-ever-after. It’s a myth. A fairy tale for children.”

  “What did he do to you?” Dan asked harshly.

  “Who?”

  “The man who broke your heart.”

  Raleigh glanced down at her untouched plate, trying to escape Dan’s penetrating stare. “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’d like to know. Please. I want to help heal the wounds.”

  “No,” she rasped. “It’s not possible.” She couldn’t allow him to know her tragedies, then he would pity her, and she couldn’t stand that.

  “Share,” he insisted, his thumb rubbing her palm until tingles rushed up her arm.

  “I can’t!”

  “I’m not letting you off the hook. You’ve kept things hidden too long. Talking about it is the only way you’re going to get over it.”

  She kept staring at her plate.

  “Look at me, Raleigh. I have to know why you won’t let yourself be loved. You owe me that much of an explanation.”

  Slowly she raised her eyes, met his, and saw confusion written on his dear face. It would be so easy to let herself care for him. Too easy.

  “Maybe this has nothing to do with my past, Dan. Maybe I just don’t like you.”

  “Nice try, darling, but I’m not buying it. When we kiss, I feel something potent, and I know you feel it, too. That’s why you’re fighting so hard. Wouldn’t you like to exorcise the ghosts that haunt you? Wouldn’t you like to be free to love again?”

  “If I tell you, will you stop badgering me?”

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  She sighed, then spoke in a rush. “My mother died when I was ten. My fiancé died when I was eighteen. My pa died last year. I’m tired of everybody I love dying, so I figure I won’t love anybody else. End of story.”

  “Whoa, slow down.”

  Rolling her eyes, she crunched a piece of bacon between her teeth. “I knew you wouldn’t quit bugging me.”

  “How did your mother die?”

  “In a house fire.” She’d said the words as fast as she could, hoping she wouldn’t feel the gut-wrenching impact. But it did no good. Guilt, heavy as a goose-down quilt, enveloped her. She had taken eight-month-old Caleb to the park while her mother napped off a migraine. When they’d returned, she’d found their house engulfed in flames. Raleigh closed her eyes against the agonizing memories—the acrid smell of smoke, the screaming fire engine sirens, the stark terror she’d felt as she’d screamed for her mother.

  Why hadn’t she died in the fire, too? Everything would have been easier and she wouldn’t have had to bear so much pain. Opening her eyes, she discovered Dan watching her intently. Maybe he was right. Maybe talking about it would help. Keeping silent certainly hadn’t eased her suffering.

  “It gets worse,” she said. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Yes,” Dan said. “Tell me. What happened to your fiancé?”

  Raleigh gulped against the resurging agony. “I caused Jack’s death.”

  Chapter Nine

  “What?” Dan clenched the edge of the table with both hands.

  Once she started talking, Raleigh took a perverse sense of pleasure in telling him. He had goaded her into this. She would find out for sure if he really did want to share her burdens and nightmares.

  “I practically killed Jack.”

  “How?”

  She wadded up her paper napkin, then unfurled it. “When I was in high school, I fell in love with Jack Carter. He was so handsome, I couldn’t believe he’d asked me out.”

  Dan leaned forward, all his attention trained on her.

  “Jack was class president,” she continued, “captain of the football team and a first-class swimmer. We spent every weekend that summer at Lake Brownwood. Jack was dedicated to swimming. He dreamed of going to the Olympics.”

  “So what went wrong?”

  Raleigh twisted the napkin around her index finger and took a deep breath. “After graduation, we’d planned to get married. Jack had been offered a job working in the oil fields, but he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted bigger and better things—fame, fortune. He was always talking about swimming. He vowed to win the gold and make millions from product endorsements.” Raleigh stopped, the words freezing in her throat.

  “Go on,” Dan prompted.

  “We were alone at the lake one Saturday night. Jack had had a couple of beers.” She took a deep breath, remembering.

  It was past midnight. There was a full moon and the water shimmered inky black. She could still hear frogs croaking, still smell honeysuckle choking the night air. They had spread a blanket on the shore and Jack had been talking about the Olympics again.

  “He wanted to impre
ss me with a new swimming technique he’d developed. He kept talking about it. He wanted to show me it right then.”

  As she spoke the words Raleigh felt strangely detached, as if the events she related had happened to someone else. She stared down at her hand and released her death grip on the napkin.

  “I tried to get him to wait until morning to demonstrate his new skill, but Jack was insistent.” Taking a sip of her now-cold coffee, she looked at Dan. He sat as if hypnotized, waiting for her to continue.

  “Lake Brownwood is treacherous. Lots of tree stumps and undercurrents. Even in daylight, it’s dangerous to swim there.”

  Dan nodded, folding his hands into fists, the color draining from his face.

  “I tried to talk him out of it,” she whispered. “But Jack loved to show off.”

  “You poor kid.”

  “I told him he didn’t have anything to prove to me. He had been drinking, after all, and I was worried. He called me a ‘fraidy cat’, kissed me, stripped off his shirt, and dived in.”

  Dan hissed.

  “I stood on the bank watching him in the moonlight. He looked so graceful, so perfect...” Raleigh hesitated.

  “Raleigh?”

  “I’m okay,” she said at last, lifting a hand to her throat and swallowing hard.

  “You don’t have to say any more.”

  “No. You’re right. I haven’t spoken about it since that day. I need to get it out.” Her voice echoed in her own ears, hard, cold, dead.

  “But you didn’t kill him,” Dan argued.

  “Not directly, no. But I was responsible. See, I can’t swim, at least not very well. Jack was halfway across the lake when he suddenly disappeared.” The memory that had haunted her for years made her want to sob—but she never cried.

  “At first I thought he was teasing me,” she continued. “Horsing around. I waited one minute. Two. Three. Then I panicked.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through,” Dan said, his voice soft with sympathy.

  “I screamed for him. There wasn’t even a ripple on the water.” She shuddered. Her eyes felt as raw as if they’d been rubbed with sandpaper. Even at the time, she’d been unable to mourn for Jack with proper tears. “I splashed in waist-deep, but I was too scared to go farther. I knew I would drown, too, if I tried to save him.”