The Valentine Two-Step

by RaeAnne Thayne

  In another woman he might have called it melancholy, but Cassie had always been the calm one. The levelheaded one. The soft April rain to Jesse’s wild, raging thunderstorm.

  Tonight she practically radiated nervous energy, and it made him uneasy—made him want to stay out of her way until she worked out whatever was bothering her.

  He couldn’t do that, though. He loved her too much, owed her too much. If something was bugging her, he had an obligation to ferret it out then try to fix it.

  “Why don’t you come in and keep me company?” he invited.

  “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “No bother. Seems like we’re always so busy I hardly ever get a chance to talk to you anymore.”

  She studied him for a moment, then moved into the room and took a seat on the couch, curling her long legs under her. “What were you thinking about when I came in that put that cranky look on your face?”

  It wasn’t tough for him to remember, since that stolen kiss in the barn with Ellie Webster had taken center stage in his brain for the last six hours. For one crazy moment, he debated telling Cassie about it. But he couldn’t quite picture himself chatting about his love life—or lack thereof—with his little sister.

  “Nothing important,” he lied, and forced his features into a smile. Knowing how bullheaded she could be about some things—a lot like a certain redhead he didn’t want to think about—he decided he’d better distract her. “What did Wade Lowry want when he called earlier?”

  Cassie picked at the nubby fabric of the couch. “He wanted me to go cross-country skiing with him tomorrow into Yellowstone.”

  Could that be what had her so edgy? “Sounds like fun. What time are you leaving?”

  He didn’t miss the way her mouth pressed into a tight line or the way she avoided his gaze. “I’m not. I told him we had family plans tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “What plans? I don’t know of any plans.”

  In the flickering light of the fire, he watched heat crawl up her cheekbones. “I thought I’d help you work with Gypsy Rose tomorrow,” she mumbled. “Didn’t you say you were going to start training her in the morning? You’ll need another pair of hands.”

  And he could have used any one of the ranch hands, like he usually did. No, there was more to this than a desire to help him out with the horses.

  “What’s wrong with Lowry? He’s not a bad guy. Goes to church, serves on the library board, is good with kids. The other ladies seem to like him well enough. And he seems to make a pretty good living with that guest ranch of his. He charges an arm and leg to the tourists who come to stay there, anyway. You could do a whole lot worse.”

  She made a face, like she used to do when Jess yanked on her hair. “Nothing’s wrong with him. I just didn’t feel like going with him tomorrow. Since when was it a crime to want to help your family?”

  “It’s not. But it’s also not a crime to get out and do something fun for a change.”

  “I do plenty of fun things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Cooking dinner today. That was fun. And going out on roundup with you. I love that. And taking care of Lucy. What greater joy could I find? My whole life is fun.”

  Every one of the things she mentioned had been for someone else. His hands curved around his glass as tension and guilt curled through him, just like they always did when it came to his baby sister and the sacrifices he had let her make. She needed more than cooking and cleaning for him and for Lucy.

  “You can’t give everything to us, Cass,” he said quietly. “Save some part for yourself.”

  She sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She did, and they both knew it. They’d had this very conversation many times before. Just like always, he was left frustrated, knowing nothing he said would make her budge.

  He opted for silence instead, and they sat quietly, listening to the fire and the night and the echo of words unsaid.

  She was the first to break the silence. “Do you ever wonder if they’re still together?” she said after several moments.

  He peered at her over the rim of his glass. “If who are together?”

  She made a frustrated sound. “Who do you think? Melanie and Slater.”

  His wife and her fiancé, who had run off together the week before Cassie’s wedding. A whole host of emotions knifed through him. Betrayal. Guilt. Most of all sharp heartache for the sweet, deliriously happy girl his little sister had been before Melanie and that bastard Slater had shattered her life.

  They rarely talked about that summer. About how they had both been shell-shocked for months, just going about the constant, grinding struggle to take care of the ranch and a tiny, helpless Lucy.

  About how that love-struck young woman on the edge of a whole world full of possibilities had withdrawn from life, burying herself on the ranch to take care of her family.

  “I don’t waste energy thinking about it,” he lied. “You shouldn’t, either.”

  He didn’t mean to make it sound like an order, but it must have. Cassie flashed him an angry glare. “You can’t control everything, big brother, as much as you might like to. I’ll think about them if I want to think about them, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  “Aw, Cass. Why torture yourself? It’ll be ten years this summer.”

  She stared stonily ahead. “Get over it. Is that what you mean?”

  Was it? Had he gotten over Melanie? Whatever love he might have once thought he felt for her had shriveled into something bitter and ugly long before she left him. But he wasn’t sure he could honestly say her desertion hadn’t affected him, hadn’t destroyed something vital and profound inside of him.

  Maybe that was why he was so appalled to find himself kissing a city girl like Ellie Webster and for craving the taste of her mouth again so powerfully he couldn’t think around it.

  He looked at his sister, at her pretty blue eyes and the brown hair she kept ruthlessly short now and the hands that were always busy cooking and cleaning in her brother’s house. He wanted so much more for her.

  “You’ve got to let go, Cassie. You can’t spend the rest of your life poking and prodding at the part of you that son of a bitch hurt. If you keep messing at it, it will never be able to heal. Not completely.”

  “I don’t poke and prod,” she snapped. “I hardly even think about Slater anymore. But I’m not like you, Matt. I’m sorry, but I can’t just shove away my feelings and act like they never existed.”

  He drew in a breath at the sharp jab, and Cassie immediately lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes horrified. “Oh, Matt. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I should never have brought them up. Let’s just drop it, okay?”

  “Which brings us back to Wade Lowry. You need to go out more, Cass, meet more people. Give some other lucky guy a chance to steal you away from us.”

  She snorted. “Oh, you’re a fine one to talk. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  She had him there. What would his sister say if she knew he’d stolen a kiss from the vet earlier in the barn? And that his body still churned and ached with need for her hours later? He took a sip of his drink, willing Ellie out of his mind once more.

  Cassie suddenly sent him a sly look. “You know who would be really great for you? Ellie Webster.”

  He sputtered and coughed on his drink. “What?”

  “Seriously. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she’s funny. I really like her.”

  So did he, entirely too much.

  “I think the two of you would be perfect together,” Cassie said.

  He refused to let his baser self think about exactly how perfect they might be together at least in one area of a relationship, judging by the way she had melted into his arms.

  “Thanks for the romantic advice,” he said gruffly, “but I think I’ll stick to what I know. The ranch and the stock and Lucy. I don’t have time for anything else.”

  She wa
s quiet for a moment, then she grabbed his hand. “We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we? You’re the one who told me not to put my life on hold. If I go skiing with Wade Lowry tomorrow, will you at least think about taking Ellie out somewhere? Maybe to dinner in Jackson or something?”

  “Sure,” he answered. “If you’ll go skiing with Wade and promise to have a good time, I’ll think about taking Doc Webster to dinner.”

  But thinking about it was absolutely the only thing he would do about it.

  “So I’m off. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Ellie glanced up from her computer and found SueAnn in the doorway bundled into her coat and hat with that big, slouchy bag that was roomy enough to hide a heifer slung over her shoulder.

  She blinked, trying to force her eyes to focus. “Is it six already?”

  “Quarter past. Aren’t you supposed to be heading out to the Diamond Harte pretty soon?”

  “The carnival committee meeting doesn’t start until seven. I should still have a little more time before I have to leave. I’m taking advantage of the quiet without Dylan to try to finish as much as I can of this journal article.”

  “She’s with Lucy again?”

  “Where else?”

  Dylan had begged to ride the school bus home with her friend again. And since Ellie knew she would be able to pick her up when she went out to the ranch later in the evening, she gave in.

  “I’ve got to turn this in by the end of the week if I want to have it considered for the next issue, and I’m way behind.”

  “I imagine you haven’t had much time these last few weeks for much of anything but your patients, have you?”

  Ellie knew her grin could have lit up the whole town of Salt River. “Isn’t it something?”

  “Amazing. We haven’t had a spare second around here since Thanksgiving.”

  Christmas was only a few weeks away. The towns scattered throughout Star Valley gleamed and glittered. Everybody seemed to get into the spirit of the holiday—just about every ranch had some kind of decorations, from stars of Bethlehem on barn roofs to crèches in hay sheds to fir wreaths gracing barbed wire fences. The other night she had even seen a tractor decorated with flashing lights.

  With her heavy workload, Ellie hadn’t had much time to enjoy it. She hadn’t even gone Christmas shopping for Dylan. If she didn’t hurry, there would be nothing left in any of the stores.

  Still, she couldn’t regret the last-minute rush. For the first time since she and Dylan had moved to Wyoming, she was beginning to feel like she had a chance at succeeding here, at making a life for the two of them.

  Word had spread quickly after Thanksgiving about how she had saved Mystic’s unborn foal and how Matt Harte had hired her to treat the rest of his champion horses.

  She wasn’t exactly sure how everyone had learned about it. She hadn’t said a word to anyone, and Matt certainly didn’t seem the type to blab his business all over town. But somehow the news had leaked out.

  The Monday after the holiday, she’d barely been in the office ten minutes before her phone started ringing with other horse owners interested in knowing more about her methods and scheduling appointments for their animals.

  She couldn’t exactly say business was booming, but she was more busy than she ever expected to be a month ago. Ellie couldn’t believe how rewarding she was finding it. It was everything she had always dreamed of—doing exactly what she loved.

  “So how are the carnival plans going?”

  She jerked her attention to SueAnn. “Good. We’ve got a really great crew working with us now. Barb Smith, Sandy Nielson, Terry McKay and Marni Clawson.”

  “That is a good committee. They’ll take care of all the dirty work for you. And how’s our favorite sexy rancher?”

  She frowned at SueAnn’s sly grin. “If you’re talking about Matt Harte, I wouldn’t know,” she said brusquely. “I haven’t seen much of him.”

  She wasn’t disappointed, she told herself. Honestly, she wasn’t. “He missed the last meeting, and every time I’ve gone out to treat his horses, he’s had one of his ranch hands help me.”

  She’d only caught fleeting glimpses of him out at the Diamond Harte. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was avoiding her after their heated kiss in the barn. But he didn’t strike her as the kind of man to run away from a little awkwardness.

  “Well, you’ll see him tonight. He can’t very well miss a meeting when it’s at his own house.”

  Ellie didn’t even want to think about this wary anticipation curling through her at the thought.

  After SueAnn left, Ellie tried to concentrate once more, but the words on the computer screen in front of her blurred together.

  It was all SueAnn’s fault for bringing up Matt. Ellie had tried for two weeks to keep him out of her mind, but the blasted man just kept popping in at all hours. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about his smile or his blue eyes or the way he teased Lucy and Dylan.

  Boy, she had it bad. One kiss and she completely lost all perspective. It had become increasingly difficult to remember all the reasons that kiss was a lousy idea and why it would never happen again.

  She blew out a breath. No sense wasting her time sitting here when she wasn’t accomplishing anything. She might as well head out early to the ranch. Maybe she could have a few minutes to talk to Matt and work this crazy longing out of her system.

  After putting on her coat and locking up the clinic, she walked to her beat-up old truck, relishing the cold, invigorating air. With the winter solstice just around the corner, night came early to this corner of the world. Already, dozens of stars peppered the night sky like spangles on blue velvet. She paused for a moment, hands curled into her pockets against the cold and her breath puffing out in clouds as she craned her neck at the vast, glittering expanse above her.

  The moon was full, pearly and bright. It glowed on the snowy landscape, turning everything pale.

  She loved it here. The quiet pace, the wild mountains, the decent, hardworking people. Moving here had been just what she and Dylan had needed.

  Humming off-key to the Garth Brooks Christmas CD SueAnn had been playing before she left, Ellie reached her truck. She didn’t bother fishing for her keys, confident she’d left it unlocked. It had taken a while to break herself of the habit of locking the battered truck, but now she felt just like one of the locals.

  Next thing she knew, she’d be calling everyone darlin’ and wearing pearl-button shirts.

  Laughing at herself, she swung open the door, then froze, her hand on the cracked vinyl of the handle.

  Something was different. Very, very wrong.

  Through the moonlight and the dim glow from the overhead dome, she saw something odd on the passenger seat, something that didn’t quite belong here.

  It took her a moment to realize what it was—the carcass of a cat, head lolled back in a death grimace and legs stiff with rigor mortis.

  Icy cold knifed through her, and her pulse sounded loud and scattered in her ears. As if that wasn’t horrifying enough to find in the cab of her truck, she could see a note stuck to the poor animal’s side—fastened firmly into place with one of her acupuncture needles.

  Her hands trembled like leaves in a hard wind as she reached for the slip of white paper and pulled it carefully away, needle and all, so she could hold it up to the dome light.

  It was printed on plain computer paper and contained only five words in block capital letters, but they were enough to snatch away her breath and send shock and fear coiling through her stomach.

  WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE.

  Chapter 9

  If somebody told him a month ago he would be hosting a gaggle of women chattering about decorations and refreshments and publicity, he probably would have decked them.

  Matt sat in the corner of his dining room, afraid his eyes were going to glaze over any minute now. The only streamers he even wanted to think about were on the end of a fly rod.

  The thi
ngs he did for his kid! He only hoped when she was stretching her wings in rebellious teenagedom and thinking her dad was the most uncool person on the planet, she would look back on this whole carnival thing and appreciate the depth of his sacrifice for her.

  At the far end of the big table, Ellie reached for her water glass, sipped at it quickly, then set it down hard enough that water sloshed over the top and splattered the legal pad in front of her.

  For a moment, she didn’t react, just stared at the spreading water stain. Finally he cleared his throat and handed down one of the napkins Cassie had set out to go with her walnut brownies before she took off to see a movie in town.

  Ellie jolted when Terry McKay passed her the napkin. Her gaze flew up and collided with his. Heat soaked her cheeks, then she quickly turned her attention to sopping up the spill.

  The only consolation Matt could find in the whole evening was that she seemed to feel just as out of place as he did, at least judging by her jumpy, distracted mood.

  He supposed it was pretty petty of him to feel such glee at her obvious discomfort. But he liked knowing he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to be stuck here.

  Only half-listening to the conversation—centering on the crucial question of whether to sell tickets at the door or at each booth—he finally allowed himself the guilty pleasure of really looking at Ellie for the first time all evening.

  She looked bright and pretty with her hair in some kind of a twisty style and a subtle shade of lipstick defining her mouth.

  That mouth. Full and lush and enticing. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for two frustrating weeks. The way it had softened under his. The way those lips had opened for him, welcoming him into the hot, slick depths of her mouth. The way her tongue had ventured out tentatively to greet his.

  Today it had been worse, much worse, knowing she would be coming to the ranch for this meeting. His concentration had been shot all to hell. In the middle of stringing a fence line, he’d let go of the barbed wire and ended up taking a nasty gash out of his cheek.

  Tonight wasn’t much better. He couldn’t concentrate on the meeting for the life of him. All he could think about was how she had felt in his arms. With an inward, resigned sigh, he tried to turn his attention to the conversation.