by Tina Leonard
“Blair. Blair Mitchell.”
Declan rolled that around in his mind. He watched the road going under the wheels of the truck, wondering what a candy ass Blair Mitchell was. “So Michael’s name would be Michael Mitchell?”
“It would have been, had we stayed together. It’s Michael Castleberry, as you know.”
Should be Michael O’Rourke.
“Excuse me?” Harper said.
“I didn’t say anything.” Declan stared out the window, not sure how that crazy thought had crashed into his mind. Michael O’Rourke. Now that was a fine-sounding name, for a fine-sounding boy who would one day grow up to be a fine man. “So you didn’t name him after his father?”
“My father’s name is Michael. I figured it would make him happy to know one day that he was named for his grandfather, even if we don’t get along.”
“Harper, look. It’s none of my business. I’m certainly no poster child for family relations. But do your folks know what a great kid your son is?”
Harper parked at Redfeather's, fitting the truck into the space and shutting off the engine before looking at him. “I send them photos every Christmas. I don’t hear back.”
Well, they were idiots, that was clear. Then again, his folks wanted to see him, and he didn’t give them the time of day, so he could hardly judge. “Hey, did you say you’re meeting with your team here tonight?”
She nodded. “It seems best to tell them sooner than later. Everyone needs to move on.”
“Let Michael eat dinner with me. At the man’s table.” He winked. “Mayor Judy notwithstanding.”
“And Cameron and Ava.”
He nodded. “So I guess if you’re giving up your team, you can come back to our table. There’ll be room for you,” he said, softly touching a stray blond wisp of hair that strayed from the rest. “Just like old times.”
“Until I build another team. Thanks for the offer for Michael. He’ll love eating with you and Steel and Saint. And Trace, if he’s here.”
He glanced through the parking lot. “Looks like all the regulars are here. Let’s go eat.”
They got out of the truck. He caught her arm ever so gently before they walked through the diner doors. “Good luck. I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“It’s not.” She smiled, a little sadly. “Good luck to you, too. You’re going to get yelled at for being out of bed.”
“A man can only lie still so long.”
“That’s the pain pills talking. Wait until they wear off. Come on.”
* * *
Harper looked at her team as they sat in the booth with her, studying each girl briefly. She’d hugged and kissed Michael, drawing strength from him, then let him go with Declan. She’d watched Declan slide into the booth with Steel and Judy and Trace and Saint and their wives, hearing them razz Declan good about being out of bed—as they should be razzing him, she thought.
Someone had to do it. He was far too determined to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. She felt a bit of panic rising inside her as she heard his startled yell of pain when he’d been hit. The arrow had made a strange whistling sound as it sliced through the air, finding its target.
She had no idea who could have done it, who wanted to hurt him. Other than Fallon—but Fallon had been at the other creek with her girls. She’d talked to him. There’d been no way he would have left a party with skinny dipping girls, she thought with disgust.
“Thanks for meeting me here tonight,” Harper said, eying Winter, Cassidy, and Micaela. Winter wore her typical mischievous expression, winged brows over sparkling eyes, long chocolate hair in a braid that looked soft and shiny from a shower. Micaela’s angel face and dishwater blond hair drew the eyes of male admirers in the bar, an illusion of innocence if there ever was one. And Cassidy wore a braid like Winter’s, only darker, looser, her full lips a bit pouty as she watched Harper. “I’m sorry I was too busy to talk to you sooner.”
“Who shot Declan?” Winter asked. “Do they know yet?”
“Steel will figure it out.”
“I doubt it.” Micaela laughed. “He’s too old to figure anything out. Way past his prime.”
Such disrespect, such superiority. Maybe they were just young, but their attitudes were telling. She looked at them, certain of her decision. “I think you all know that our team hasn’t gotten off the ground the way I was hoping.”
“We know,” Cassidy said. “We’ve asked Fallon to take over our team.”
At least they were honest about it. Harper ignored the sudden twinge of sadness that her first team had fallen apart, told herself Declan was right: There would be a new one. She could start over. She had a short list of candidates she planned to contact as soon as possible—her dream would not die at this table tonight. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you feel can coach you to the level you want to be at.”
“I don’t know if Fallon can do that, exactly,” Winter said, “but he knows some wicked tricks. We’re not ready to leave Hell yet, so we thought it would be best to go with someone who understands what we do.” She looked at Harper. “You’re not really a trick rider. You’re more of a . . . mom.”
Harper drew a deep breath. “My lack of experience may have been a problem.”
“People in the town say you should never have taken over Judy’s team,” Cassidy said, a bit of snark underlying the comment.
They were nothing if not honest. Maybe a little manipulative, but also not afraid to speak their minds. “I’ll be building a new team. But I’m glad I had the chance to get to know you, all of you. I’d like to think we could have made it work, but I certainly understand your feelings.”
They stared at her, surprised.
“A new team?” Micaela said. “Why?”
“Because,” Harper said with certainty, “I like coaching. I believe I’ll be able to get a new team of girls to a good level, a professional team that can be the face of Hell.”
“What about us?” Winter asked. “They’ll be our competitors.”
“I don’t know what Fallon’s vision for his team is,” Harper said. “You’ll have to discuss that with him. But yes, the teams might be competitors to represent Hell. I’m sure that’s something that will need to be discussed through the town committee. At any rate, I do wish you the best of luck.” She smiled at them, but they looked at each other, their consternation obvious.
“I’m going to go sit with Michael,” Harper said. “Unless you have any other questions?”
They didn’t look happy, but they shook their heads in the negative.
“All right then.” She rose from the booth. “By the way, you’ll want to discuss plans with Trace for vacating the Honeysuckle Bungalow. I’m sure Fallon has a place in mind where he expects his team to stay. And I hope you know you can always come to me, if there’s anything you ever want to talk about, anything at all.”
The girls looked worried. Harper slipped into the next booth, sliding in by Declan. He looked at her.
“Hello, beautiful.”
She smiled, feeling a little of the disappointment with her team wash away. “Hi.”
“Michael’s going to have a hamburger for dinner. Aren’t you, buddy?”
Michael glanced up at his mother. “Uh-huh.” Went back to reading a book about a boy and his dog. Harper’s gaze met Declan’s.
“How’s the shoulder?”
“Couldn’t be better. I’ve had a beer.” He held up his bottle, examined it. “It’s empty now, and I’m not allowed to have another. My nurse says I can only have one.”
“That’s right. Beer and pain meds probably do not mix. Your nurse is pleased.”
“Harper,” Judy said, “why are you in our booth? Not that you’re not welcome, but Fallon is now seated with your team.”
Harper met the big-haired beauty queen’s curious face with a smile. “That’s Fallon’s team now.”
Judy looked stunned. “Fallon’s team!” She craned her neck to spy on the circular boot
h behind them. “Why would Fallon need a team?”
“You’ll have to ask him. He and his new team are very pleased to be working together.” Declan moved his hand to her thigh, patting it, comforting her. Then his hand lay still—like it had found a natural resting spot. Harper hesitated at the rush of emotions she felt.
It felt like they were a couple.
They weren’t.
She couldn’t be a couple with anyone, couldn’t have a relationship with anybody. Not now, not at this time in her life.
Blair was coming to Hell eventually. He wanted to see Michael.
No, that wasn’t the reason she couldn’t let Declan claim a part of her life. She was too unsettled, too unfocused right now. Adrift, in the middle of transition. This was no time to bring someone into her life. A man who seemed to love her son, a good man who made love to her and left her gasping for more.
Everything she’d ever wanted, actually.
“Fallon and those girls will be up to no good. Declan, tell your brother he’s not instructor material.” Judy looked like she would have gotten out of the booth if she hadn’t been blocked on either side by her friends.
“Not me,” Declan said. “I’m staying out of it. Besides, Judy, they chose him. I think they feel a certain simpatico with Fallon.”
Judy looked quite ruffled. “That’s my team! I should be taking it over!”
And that was the reason for Judy’s disturbance. She hadn’t been rooting for Harper’s success because she’d wanted her team back.
“They’ve made up their minds,” Cameron said. “Four peas in a pod.”
“More like four fleas in a fog.” Judy shook her head. “No good can come of this, I tell you. None at all.”
Harper wasn’t sure she didn’t agree with Judy, but there was nothing she could do about it. Declan praised Michael’s sounding out of a new word in his book, and as Harper glanced around the table at her friends, she wondered how she could ever leave Hell behind. She was going to need employment, if she didn’t start a team. She couldn’t go on in limbo, just because she found herself falling for a certain wild-eyed cowboy who made her feel magical every time she was near him.
“I knew this would happen,” Judy said, staring at Harper with deep resentment. “I knew you couldn’t hold that team together. But I never, ever expected you to stab me in the back by handing everything I’ve worked so hard for over to Ivy!”
* * *
Dinner ended on a terrible note, everyone at the table torn by the first real dispute among their group of friends that Declan could ever remember. He and Harper excused themselves with Michael, after the little boy had a good meal—but Declan and Harper didn’t do much but pick at Stephen Redfeather’s doubtful offering of the evening. Usually, Stephen’s cuisine garnered its share of gently teasing discourse as to its origins—but not tonight. The table had gone silent, except for occasional polite muttering.
If Michael hadn’t been there, forcing everyone to remain cheerful for his sake, Declan figured dinner would have been over a lot quicker.
Once home, Declan refused to rest his shoulder like Harper and Steel wanted him to. He and Michael had ridden with Harper, and Steel had followed behind—just to be certain, Steel had said.
Declan understood that he was going to have a permanent set of bodyguards now, whether he considered them necessary or not. “Steel, go home to Judy. She needs you more than I do. As you can see, I have visitors for the night. And Gypsy and Toad. We’re fine. And we’re going swimming.” He’d promised Michael he’d watch him in the pool. One of the big draws of keeping them here was Toad, and of course, the pool. Declan was hopeful that if tonight went well, maybe his two new housemates would consider staying another night.
Maybe several nights.
That would suit him just fine.
“I’ll just help myself to looking at your yard ornaments,” Steel said. He headed out to the wood corral separating the pool from the pasture. “Don’t mind me. I’m a shadow, as far as you’re concerned. Anyway, you should be in bed. You’d get well a lot faster.”
“And I’d be bored out of my skull. That’s no way to live.” Declan ignored the pain of his shoulder, grinning as Michael did a mini-cannonball into the water. Harper came out to join them. “Tell Steel to go home and take care of Judy.”
“Steel says he’s staying right here. He’s good company. We’ll have a rousing foursome of Go Fish later. Or maybe Hearts.”
Declan perked up. He could manage that with his good arm. Harper sat on a chaise, and Declan watched her. This was heaven. A beautiful summer night, a beautiful woman, an adorable son, and two dogs running wildly around the pool, Gypsy trying to figure out if she needed to get in and play rescue dog, and Toad doing his best to learn.
Except for the sheriff studying his beautiful spotted horses, he could almost forget someone had tried to nail him with a bow and arrow.
“Son, you’re going to have to do something,” Steel said, turning to face Declan. Declan started, his attention fully on the little boy in the pool. Michael was such a good boy. Declan knew damn well he’d never been this shy, quiet, pleasing kind of kid, and neither had Fallon. Oh, Fallon had been a suck-up, but he’d always been wily. Declan had been restless, yearning to get away from his parents.
Michael, in spite of the fact that he had no father, and lived pretty much a nomadic existence until he came to Hell, had probably been the most stable individual at the dinner table tonight.
He went to get out a huge blow-up ball for Michael, tossing it into the pool and sending Gypsy into a fit of hysterics until she realized the big ball colored like a watermelon wasn’t going to hurt Michael. “Do something about what, Steel?”
“I can usually turn a blind eye to my girl’s opinions, matchmaking, and general well-meaning pot-stirring, but in this case, I have to vote with Judy.” He eyed Declan steadily. “Harper just handed Ivy the keys to the town.”
“Because her team wants to train with Fallon?”
“That’s right.” Steel nodded. “Now Ivy has control of the thing Judy meant to do good for Hell. And you know your brother’s not going to keep those girls on the straight-and-narrow.”
“I have news for you, Steel. They weren’t on the straight-and-narrow, anyway.”
“I know.” Steel sighed. “But Harper can’t just agree to let Fallon have the team. Hell has put a lot of money into supporting the team. The committee should have a say.”
Declan sighed heavily. “The girls went to Fallon. They talked, came to an agreement. The whole thing’s been really painful for Harper. She only gave in when she realized there was nothing she could do to change their minds. They wanted a different instructor.”
“But not Fallon. That’s the same as having Ivy running the team. You see that.”
“I do. But I don’t see how you stop them, Steel. Free country.”
“Maybe so. But I don’t think Judy will ever forgive Harper for this. That’s why you’ve got to do something.”
“Me?” Declan leaned on the wooden rails, stared at his yard ornaments, breathing in the peace and serenity of the place he’d dreamed of buying all those months he’d been deployed. “Steel, I’ve got one good arm at the moment, and somebody after my ass. I couldn’t train them if I wanted.” He held up a hand. “And don’t start with the bullfighting bit. Those girls are trick riders. They’re good at it, too. Scare-the-shit-out-of-you good.”
“I’m not suggesting you train them to bullfight. That part of Judy’s dream had to die.” Steel leaned his arms on the rail next to Declan. “But if you don’t fix this somehow, Hell’s going to be split in half. Right down the middle.”
“You want me to talk to Fallon? Is that what you’re after?”
“I want you to talk to Harper.” Steel turned to face him. “After everything this town has done for you, don’t you think you owe us that?”
“And what do you want me to say that will change things?”
“Hell if
I know. Tell her she can’t give up on us.”
“She’s not giving up on us. Steel, athletes change coaches all the time in any sport. The team had a right to change. It’s no reflection on Hell, or Harper, or anyone, except maybe the team.”
“You don’t believe that worth a damn. Fallon’s been hanging around that team from day one, trying to figure out what was up. Ivy heard about it, developed a plan to get the team away from Judy, therefore blowing up the one thing we had going for us in Hell. And frankly, making sure she stole what Judy had. It couldn’t have been easier if it was taking candy from a baby.” Steel turned to watch Michael as the boy cannonballed into the water again. Gypsy and Toad circled around the pool, Gypsy watching Michael, and Toad watching Gypsy. “Frankly, I’m stunned by Harper. I thought she was tougher than that.”
Harper came outside wearing a pink bikini with a high-cut bottom that showed off her long legs, and a top that showcased the rest of the body he happened to know was spectacular, and Declan’s breath caught in his throat.
Steel watched his reaction, then chuckled.
“So that’s how it is, is it?” Steel said, and Declan heard the sheriff trying not to laugh.
Harper slid into the water, and the red sirens wailing in Declan’s ears calmed just a little. “I’m sorry, Steel, did you say something?”
Steel laughed. “I’m going to check the perimeter. Try not to have a stroke, okay?”
Chapter Sixteen
A stroke wasn’t what he was going to have. What Declan had was a serious, burning urge for this woman and her child to be his. It came to him that he’d tried a puppy, he’d tried playing the waiting suitor—he’d tried everything, and still, she wasn’t really his.
He went and sat on one of the chaises, watching mother and son bat the ball back and forth to each other. He wanted this so much to be his life that he ached. Harper had nothing tying her to Hell any longer, he suddenly realized.