Returning for Love: A Western Romance Novel (Long Valley Book 4)

by Erin Wright

  And then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd to go haul tables away.

  Iris sunk further down into her seat, squeezing her eyes shut, wanting to die of mortification. She could hear her mother talking, but hell if she knew what she was saying. She could feel the heat of her blush set her face on fire, which no doubt meant her cheeks matched the color of her hair quite nicely.

  Some days, I hate being a redhead…

  She’d been doing so well. Forced as she was to attend, she’d strategically chosen a seat directly behind a rather…stout woman the next table over. As long as she kept Ms. Stout between her and the front of the barn, where Declan was doing his best man duties, she could eat the wedding feast, listen to Declan as he told funny stories, and then hightail it out of there as soon as the real festivities started.

  Because God knows, she wasn’t gonna be much fun during that portion of the night.

  Except, she’d cheated. She’d sat up after the fifth time that her mother had poked her in the ribcage, whispering that a true lady does not slouch, and took the opportunity to begin drinking her fill of Declan. If she was going to give up her refuge behind Ms. Stout, she might as well get something out of it.

  Like study Declan’s face, noting the changes and similarities from their years together in school. The way that the wrinkles crinkled around the corners of his eyes. How he’d become so much larger than the string-bean version she’d loved so many years ago. How she could detect just the barest glints of silver in his light brown hair under the lights of the barn.

  He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. And that just wasn’t fair at all.

  He’d just finished ribbing his brother about hornets, sitting back down to let Chloe give her speech, when he’d caught her. She’d been staring right at him when his gaze swung and caught hers, their eyes irresistibly drawn to each other.

  The way they’d always been around each other.

  She couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t seen him, or stars above, that she hadn’t been staring at him. They were way past such lies now, as much as she wished she could pretend otherwise.

  Her plan, feeble as it might’ve been, had counted on him knowing the truth, so she wouldn’t have to tell him. Then he could stand on the other side of the room and pretend he didn’t see her, and she could pretend she didn’t see him.

  Just like two 14-year-old teenagers would.

  She rolled her eyes at herself. Even she could see the childishness of her plan. And anyway, obviously, Declan hadn’t gotten the memo.

  She looked over at her mom, who’d finally, blessedly gone silent. Her dad just looked at her quietly, pity in his eyes.

  She hated pity.

  With a passion.

  “Can we go home now?” she asked, trying to keep the warble out of her voice. Crying in the middle of Wyatt’s wedding is simply not allowed, Iris Blue McLain, so don’t even think about it.

  So she swallowed hard and pinned an overly bright smile on her face and pushed the tears away. They stood up, and leaning on her dad’s arm, they made their way out of the barn and into the cool fall night.

  She just had to wrap her head around the fact that she was happily heartbroken. Which was a strange state of affairs, sure, but true.

  Someone else would do the dirty deed and tell him the truth, something someone should’ve done weeks ago, and so then she wouldn’t have to. She was free to go back to her spinster life and she’d never have to see Declan again. She was plenty sure he wouldn’t invite her to his wedding, and Stetson was already married, so she was free from Miller weddings from here forward.

  Someday, when she could move out on her own again, she’d move far, far away from Sawyer so there wasn’t even a chance of running into him down at the grocery store or on a street corner.

  She’d move far away from the temptation that was Declan Miller.

  Chapter 3

  Declan

  “What the hell is going on with Iris McLain?” Declan hissed as soon as they neared the stacked pile of tables by the back door of the barn.

  Stetson shot him a blank look. “What? Hell if I know. Listen, we need to hurry with these tables, because we still have decorating to do.”

  “Decorating?” Declan echoed, confused by the change in topics. Jennifer and Abby and Carmelita had done a bang-up job of decorating the barn; he didn’t figure they needed any more help. Especially since they were three-quarters of the way through the reception. It seemed a little late to add more candles and rocks and glass jars at this point.

  “Yes!” Stetson took a furtive glance around him and then leaned closer. “Wyatt’s truck!” he whispered urgently.

  Oh.

  Of course.

  As best man, it should’ve occurred to him. It hadn’t, of course. Despite this being the second time that he’d held this honorary position, he really wasn’t any better at it than he’d been the first time around. He needed about ten more brothers so he could get more practice in.

  He groaned at the thought.

  “What?” Stetson asked, as they slid a table into the back of Stet’s truck.

  “Oh, nothing. Just…daydreaming,” Declan said, waving him off.

  Ten more Wyatts? The world couldn’t hold ‘em. He loved his brother, especially since he’d recently removed his head from his ass, but not ten of him.

  They finished loading the folding tables into the back of Stetson’s truck and then grabbed decorating supplies out of the passenger seat. Stetson had come prepared.

  The “decorating supplies” turned out to be empty soup cans tied together with orange yarn, Silly String in spray cans, and white sticks that looked like chalk but didn’t feel a damn thing like them. Stetson caught his confused look. “Soap. It’s used to write on vehicles but not cause damage.”

  Declan grunted his approval. Wrecking Wyatt’s truck permanently…well, he wasn’t entirely sure that even the joy of his wedding day would keep Wyatt from killing them both.

  They got to work, tying the cans to the bumper and writing well wishes all over the windows of the truck. Just as they were finishing up and ready to use the Silly String as the final touch, Jennifer came over. Twilight was deepening, but even in the shadows, she could tell what a grand job they’d done. He grinned at her, but she scowled back.

  “You guys!” she huffed. “Wyatt isn’t going to like this.” She was cradling Flint against her chest, a blanket wrapped over his tiny form to protect him against the chilly late September air. Winter was on its way.

  Stetson just laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point,” he said dryly. “If he liked it, that wouldn’t make it nearly as fun of a prank.”

  She rolled her eyes at him but he just grinned back and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Want the honors?” he asked, shaking the can and then holding it out to her.

  She hesitated for a moment, and then snatched it out of his hand. “You, sir, are a bad influence!” she said as she began spraying the truck wildly. They were laughing and more Silly String was going everywhere, until finally, all of the cans were emptied.

  Jennifer and Stetson leaned into each other, laughing so hard they had to hold each other up, Flint cradled between them, and Declan just looked at them, keeping the smile pasted on his face, but feeling a twist low in his gut. Would he ever get what his two brothers seemed to have found so effortlessly? Sure, Stetson almost had to lose his farm, and okay, fine, Wyatt had had to spend months in jail, but the love between the couples was effortless.

  It had only been that way once with Declan…and it couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t take that risk. He’d reacted instinctively when he saw Iris, running over to her like a lost puppy dog reuniting with its owner, thrilled and excited, but that couldn’t happen again.

  He wouldn’t let it happen again.

  His gut twisted harder.

  “Who was that pretty redhead you were talking to earlier?” Jennifer asked, as if she could read his mind.


  Scary, that.

  “Iris McLain.”

  “Oh, that’s the Iris I’ve been hearing about. Poor girl.” Jennifer clucked her tongue and then began swaying, singing softly to Flint as she rocked.

  “Poor girl? You know what happened?” Declan felt his stomach twist even tighter. He wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up or pass out. Finally, someone who could tell him what the hell was going on.

  Jennifer looked up, coming back to the moment. She’d obviously gotten wrapped up in her cooing.

  “Oh. Yeah. She got in some terrible car wreck a month ago. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  Declan staggered back, feeling all of the blood drain from his face.

  An accident. Did she hit a deer on the road? Oh God, please don’t let her have hit a deer.

  “No,” he whispered. Then, louder, “No. I didn’t hear. Is she okay?”

  Except, obviously she wasn’t. She wouldn’t have answered his question about dancing the way she had if she was perfectly all right.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  She’d sat the whole way through the conversation, which Declan had found a little odd at the time, but had chalked up to her being nervous around him. But, maybe she couldn’t stand up. Maybe, she was paralyzed from the waist down. Maybe, she was in a wheelchair and they’d just moved her to a folding chair so she wouldn’t stand out from the crowd.

  He wasn’t sure he was breathing right. Iris McLain, paralyzed?!

  Jennifer looked at him, concerned. “She’s all right. Kinda. I hear her equilibrium is all messed up, though.”

  “Her equi…” His voice trailed off as he started to put the pieces together.

  “Yeah, her balance. She falls over a lot now. Apparently, she has to walk with a cane everywhere she goes.”

  No wonder she didn’t want to dance with me.

  And there he was, running over to her, embarrassing her in front of her friends and family, asking her to dance when everyone else in the barn probably knew that she couldn’t.

  She likely wanted to smack him for making her look like an idiot in front of all the guests.

  Except, she hadn’t looked angry. She’d looked…heartbroken.

  Stetson said, “Hey, we’re going to go back inside and check on the happy couple!” in a tone that was way too enthusiastic in an obvious bid to give Declan some space, and then he was guiding Jennifer back inside, his arm around her shoulders as she cradled their baby to her chest. They were so happy together, such a great match. He never would’ve guessed that Stetson would be happy with a city girl, but there they went, disproving that theory.

  And then the thoughts came rushing back – the thoughts that Declan had been suppressing. Iris, beautiful, independent, talented, athletic Iris, falling over. No balance at all.

  How was that even possible? She’d been captain of the basketball team her junior and senior year. She was a natural. She could’ve gone on to play college ball but had decided to focus on her studies to become an RN instead, because she’d felt like that was more important. She could outrun, outshoot, outpass every other point guard who even tried to touch her. Seeing her on the court…

  She had more talent than the rest of the team put together, but she never gloated. She always cheered her teammates on, and made them look good. Her younger sister, Ivy, had a hell of a time in high school, but Iris never did. She was so genuinely nice and thoughtful and caring, no one could find it in them to hate her.

  And now she couldn’t walk right?

  He felt like the world had tilted off balance, like everyone had started walking sideways and he was left to try to navigate in this new world. How was it possible?

  And what had he been thinking, running over to talk to her like that? He knew better. He didn’t get to date people. Not anyone, not ever. It’d just been the surprise of seeing her – it’d thrown him for a loop. Caused him to forget everything he knew.

  He shook it off. He couldn’t just stand around and stare at the full moon, bathing the valley below in its flat, pale light. He’d go inside and find the happy couple and congratulate them and get them into their truck and swear no knowledge of how the truck got this way, and then send them off on their honeymoon. It was what a best man was supposed to do.

  And Declan always did what he was supposed to do.

  Chapter 4

  Iris

  She stared down at the form in front of her, scrubbing wearily at her eyes with the palms of her hands. She was so exhausted. Why was it that paperwork drained her like this?

  Well, at least in this case, she knew the answer to that. It was the legalese she had to read through – it was a killer. She wasn’t sure if the lawyers themselves knew what these contracts meant. They probably just threw together a bunch of big words and figured no one would call them on their bullshit.

  Which, they were right. At least in her case. Iris scribbled her name down at the bottom and then folded the papers and shoved them into the postage-paid envelopes.

  She was about to become a medical coder.

  After enrolling and graduating from the CNA program in high school, and then getting her nursing degree from Idaho State University, she had more medical knowledge in her little pinky than most people did in their whole bodies.

  Now, Post Accident or PA as she liked to call it in her head, she may not be able to hover over people’s bedsides and take their temperature, or recommend the best dosing schedule for a round of antibiotics, but she could code in medical records for insurance companies. It involved nothing but paperwork, Iris’ least favorite part of being a nurse, but on the other hand, she could do it from home, it paid well, and it used her medical knowledge.

  Oh, and she didn’t have to stand while typing it all in. There weren’t many jobs that offered all of those benefits. In fact, Iris was pretty sure there were exactly no other jobs that offered all of those benefits.

  If there were, she’d probably do them instead, because medical coding…

  Certainly not her dream job.

  At least the Hermingston Medical College would allow her to test out of the vocabulary and human anatomy classes, so she wasn’t going to be forced to spend months on end learning information she already knew backwards and forwards. All she had to do was learn the codes and the programs, and she’d be on her way.

  Thankfully, learning had always come easy to her. That was how she and Declan had started spending time around each other to begin with, of course. He’d been getting his ass handed to him by Spanish 2, and although she wasn’t a native-born speaker of Spanish, her grasp had been a lot stronger than his. She’d been hunkered down in the corner of the library one day, studying, when he’d come up to her and asked her if she offered tutoring for Spanish.

  She’d known who he was, obviously. No teenage girl in a twenty-mile range had missed the Millers. Stetson was a lot younger than they were, so he hadn’t been on her radar, but Wyatt always had that brooding bad boy persona and Declan…he was just nice. Thoughtful and nice and cheerful and funny and…drop-dead gorgeous.

  Speaking of the Miller boys, Iris was thrilled to see Wyatt so happy with Abby, and God bless Abby for giving him his life back. After Sierra and Shelly died, a horrific accident her mom had told her about when she’d been living over on the other side of the state, Wyatt had become even more withdrawn. Even more prickly.

  He was handsome – all the Miller brothers were – but he wasn’t Declan. She didn’t know how Abby could put up with Wyatt, actually, although the way he’d looked at her during their wedding last night…she’d never seen that man grinning as much as he had been during the festivities. Maybe Abby had finally busted down that wall that he’d always had around him.

  Declan wasn’t that way, though, not at all. Even as a teenager, he’d been incredibly thoughtful, and so much fun to be around. Studying Spanish with him, listening to his horrendous Spanish accent…she’d never laughed so hard in her life.

  Oreo bumped her hand, letting out
a small meow, and Iris jumped. She felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she’d been crying. Dammit all, she’d been crying over Declan Miller, for the 478th time.

  “No more,” she said to Oreo, who headbutted her hand, obviously not content with the pace of the pettings he was receiving. “Stetson or Wyatt or someone else has told him the truth about his ex-girlfriend; about how she’s turned into a gimp. I’m never going to see him again, and I will be happy.”

  Oreo let out a yowl, and Iris laughed through the tears spilling down her cheeks. “Exactly,” she said, with a nod for emphasis. “Now, let’s go find you and Milk some food to eat.” She pushed back from the table and grabbed her cane. Without her dad to hold on to like she’d had at the reception last night, she was dependent on her cane, even just when walking around her apartment. The very last thing she wanted to do was to reenact a 35-year-old version of the infamous, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” commercial.

  She wouldn’t let herself get to that point. Not ever. She’d had so much stripped from her; she wasn’t going to have her independence stripped, too.

  Chapter 5

  Declan

  Declan ran the massive truck over the bumps and furrows of the field, with only his seatbelt keeping him from taking a header through the front windshield. The wedding was over, the party was done, and now it was time to get back to work. Only a couple more weeks and harvest would be finished for the year.

  He was thrown around as the truck hit a big dip and then back up again. He ground to a halt and threw the old beast into first gear and yanked on the parking brake. He hopped out and pulled on his work gloves. Time to get shit done.

  But as he ran through the routine of harvest, he couldn’t seem to keep his head in the game. All he wanted to do was wrestle with the question of Iris.

  More specifically, what did he do about Iris.