by Roni Adams
Behind the counter, she knew CoraBeth had heard every word just by the look on her friend’s face. She held up her hand before CoraBeth could even open her mouth. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it today.”
Sam walked out from the kitchen carrying several pies. Carrie moved to the refrigerated pie case and opened the glass door for him.
“What was she going to spout off about now?” he asked.
Carrie shook her head and rearranged the pies to look attractive on the glass shelves. “Nothing.”
“Sheriff Dan finally got a date with our girl here.”
Sam glanced at her and Carrie could feel herself flush under his stare. “Oh, yeah? Where’s the big spender going to take you? To Cranky Hank’s? Or maybe over to the Bluebonnet Café.”
“Stop. It doesn’t matter where he takes me. I don’t want to go, but I couldn’t get out of it this time.”
“What about your migraine? Didn’t you tell him you were sick?”
Carrie closed the glass case. “Yes. He said I was sick because I work too much and need to relax.”
“I know some other ways Sheriff Dan would like to help ease your stress,” CoraBeth cackled as she walked around the counter to meet the group of elderly women walking in the door.
The thought of an embrace from Dan was enough to make a shudder of discomfort roll through her. As much as she was hurt and furious with Dusty after their conversation last night, the only man’s arms she wanted to be in were his. And that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe she should call Dan around noon and tell him she was feeling worse; chills, fever the whole thing. A nasty bug. ’Course then she’d have to stay up in her apartment pretending to be sick, and CoraBeth would have to handle the lunch crowd and…no, it wasn’t worth it. She’d just go on the date and then gently make sure he knew it was the one and only time.
Chapter Four
“So, Mr. Wulfsen, what do you think?” The realtor leaned his back against the split-rail fence and crossed his arms.
Dusty studied the property again. The ranch was everything he’d ever wanted. He shoved his hands in his pockets and mentally calculated how much he’d need. He was close, but not close enough. “What do you think we should offer, bottom line?”
The realtor tipped his head and looked around. “I think what they’re asking is pretty much as low as they’re willing to go. It’s not going to sit on the market very long with this kind of price. The land alone is prime, even without the house and the barns.”
Dusty could care less about the house. He could live in his trailer. It was the barns that interested him. It was the first step to his dream of raising horses rather than riding bulls. He shoved at the dirt with the toe of his boot. “Okay, well, I need to think on it some more.” Reality was, he needed to ride in the next two events and see where he placed. He needed the purse from those two events to even come close to what he needed to put an offer in. He would have been a whole lot closer if he’d done better that first night, but someone screwed that up for him. He refused to let her interfere with any more of his dreams.
He held out his hand. “I’ll give you a call on Monday morning. If anything happens between now and then, if someone else comes in with an offer, please let me know.” His guts twisted just thinking of someone scooting in and taking this out from under him. But what were the chances? They were in Wayback, Texas. It wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis, which is what made it perfect to him.
The realtor didn’t look pleased with his answer, but there wasn’t much Dusty could do about that. He climbed into his pickup truck, took one last look around, sent up a silent prayer that it would someday be his, and drove away.
Back in town, he couldn’t help but glance in the window of the diner as he parked his truck. Sure enough, she was in there waiting tables. He stared a bit too long, because she caught his look and, for a fraction of a second, her eyes filled with warmth, even longing, and then she jerked her gaze off his.
Damn. Carrie wanted him to settle down, buy a house, do the whole family thing. It was the same thing he wanted, but then she’d had to give him that ultimatum. He swallowed hard. What kind of man would he be if he’d given in to her demand? He couldn’t stop riding bulls just because she told him to. He’d lose all respect for himself and so would anyone else who found out. Then again, respect and pride were cold bed partners.
A vision of Carrie waving to him from the back porch of the house while he worked with horses in the corral came to mind. What would she do if she knew what he was planning?
He set his jaw and walked up the street toward the bank. It didn’t matter. If she didn’t want him when he was a bull-riding cowboy, then she wasn’t going to have him now when he was ready to give it all up.
****
Carrie was ready for her date early. For the twelfth time, she glanced in the mirror, not convinced that the black dress wasn’t too dressy. She hadn’t kept too many of her clothes from her old life, but this was a favorite and she couldn’t bring herself to give it up. Hopefully Dan didn’t know anything about fashion and would never know the dress cost more than he probably made in a year. She’d purposely put on low heels. Dan was broad-shouldered, but he wasn’t very tall and she didn’t want to tower over him. She’d never had that problem with Dusty. Even as tall as she was with heels, he’d always dwarfed her. He’d always grin and lift his chin, a bit of pride in his Viking heritage. She didn’t know what heritage to claim as her own. She was a typical American girl, a combination of her ancestors marrying and blending. That was fine by her. It meant she didn’t have the same excuses that Dusty had of being stubborn because of his genes. Frankly, Dusty was stubborn because of what was in his jeans, not his genes. He was all male and stubborn as a mule.
The doorbell chimed and she sprang to her feet. Thinking of the way Dusty filled out his jeans was definitely not the way to start her date with Dan.
An hour later, the sheriff parked the car outside a restaurant on a quiet street.
“I hope you like German food.” He unbuckled his seat belt.
She glanced up at the quaint building. “I love German food. I didn’t even know this restaurant was here.”
Dan held open her car door and took her hand to help her out. “If you’d come out with me more often, I’d enjoy showing you sights besides Main Street Wayback.”
Carrie slipped her hand out of his as they reached the restaurant. “I would have thought you’d think that Main Street, Wayback is all anyone ever needs.”
His large hand settled on her lower back and guided her to the table. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know. Being the sheriff is my job, not who I am.”
Carrie wondered what he’d think if he knew that she wasn’t the small town waitress she let everyone believe she was. She sipped her water and picked up the leather-covered menu. “It has to be tough in a town this size to have folks think of you only as the law.”
Dan shrugged. “Most of the time I don’t mind, but I think it interferes with my personal life.”
Carrie grinned. “You mean with women?”
The waiter came and took their order for drinks and Dan leaned forward on the table. “I mean with you.”
“Me? Why would it matter to me?”
Dan studied her intently and she frowned. Had he done some background on her or something? Checked her out and found out who she really was? Did it make that much of a difference?
“I thought maybe you wouldn’t go out with me because I was the sheriff.”
She bit her lip and wondered how much to tell him. How could she explain that her heart still belonged to a stubborn, blond-haired bull rider who didn’t want her anymore?
She closed her menu. “I came to Wayback to make a fresh start, or at least that’s what I’m trying to do now. I’m the classic case of a broken heart who isn’t ready for romance again.”
Dan raised one eyebrow. “Most of us in life have dealt with broken hearts, or at least bruised egos. Doesn’t mean yo
u shouldn’t get back on the horse.”
Getting thrown off a horse was probably the worst analogy he could use. How could she help but get an image of Dusty hitting the ground time and time again while she watched from the stands. She shuddered. “It doesn’t mean you want to rush into anything, either.”
The waiter brought their drinks and took their order, and Dan lifted his glass. Carrie picked up the dark beer she’d ordered.
“To not rushing, but not sitting home alone, either.” He touched his mug of beer to hers.
Carrie took a sip and set her beer down. She’d been honest with him. She’d told him she didn’t want a romance right now. If he clung to some hope or whatever, how was it her fault?
“You’ve lived here your whole life, haven’t you?” A change in subject would be good, and she hoped he got her hint.
The sheriff set his beer down and leaned back in his chair again. “Yep, born and raised. But how about you? All I know is you showed up in town about four months ago.”
Carrie shrugged. “I’m from Houston. Born and raised there. But I have to tell you, after being in Wayback only a few months, this place feels far more like home.” She smiled, thinking about Sam and CoraBeth and even Billy. “I like it here. It’s warm and friendly and everyone knows everyone.”
Dan grinned. “Yeah, that’s both a blessing and a curse. It’s a great place to raise kids, but it’s hell if you’re trying to have any kind of fun.”
“I imagine every little old lady sitting on her porch is just dying to report back as to the goings on.”
He nodded. “Yep. Mothers love that. It’s one of those towns where, growing up, you can’t wait to get out of here, but once you’re an adult, you realize there’s no better place to settle in and raise a family.”
The waiter brought their food and refilled their drinks. Carrie focused on tasting the first bites of the tangy beef. “This is fabulous.”
Back home, there was a wonderful German restaurant that she had frequented. She’d never gone with Dusty, though. He’d have scrunched up his nose at the “weird” food. He was a steak and potatoes guy, more beef than potatoes. Her thoughts drifted away, and she jerked her attention back to Dan, feeling guilty.
“Do you know much about the real estate around Wayback? I mean, you must get out and about and know what’s up for sale.” Carrie scooped up some red cabbage, loving the tanginess on her taste buds.
“There’s not a lot going on, but Joyce Andrews would know more about that than I would. Why? You looking to rent somewhere else?”
She shook her head. “Actually, I have some money saved up and would like to look for a small house to own. You know, something not too far out of town, with maybe a little yard. Nothing too big but a little more space than the apartment.”
Dan nodded. “I like that. You’re putting down roots. Means you might stick around.”
Carrie laughed. “I told you I’m making a new start, and that includes buying something. The apartment is great and the rent is so reasonable I can save a lot while I’m there, but by summer I’d love to be in a house of my own.”
“I’ll ask Joyce tomorrow and have her pull out a list of places available. You can go in and talk to her about all that. You know what I did hear, though.” He leaned forward as if he was sharing a secret or a hot piece of gossip.
Carrie listened intently as if he was going to tell her something no one else knew. “What?”
“I heard one of the bull riders who’s in town was interested in the old Kincaid Ranch.”
She must have looked confused because he went on. “It’s the one out by Mercy Creek Ranch. Apparently he’s had one of Joyce’s folks out there three times now, but hasn’t made an offer yet.”
Carrie dropped her fork and it hit her plate with a clatter. Startled, she picked it up again and wiped at the splashed red cabbage that had fallen to the tablecloth. “Really? Why would a, um, bull rider, did you say? Want to look at a ranch? Aren’t they the gypsy type? You know, here one weekend, on to the next rodeo the following week?”
“I guess this guy has family in the area. He’s getting ready to retire.”
Carrie’s stomach churned. Was it Dusty? Was he looking for a place? Why would he? There were other bull riders. It didn’t mean it was him. If he was looking for a place, though, did that mean he’d had a change of heart? He was ready to give up the circuit and settle down? Did he mean to…
She stopped her thoughts. This was silly. Dusty wasn’t buying a ranch, he wasn’t settling down, and he certainly wasn’t going to come back on bended knee with a diamond in his hand for her. That was one ride that was done and over with.
“How big a ranch is it?”
Dan laughed. “Why? You think you need a ranch now?”
Carrie smiled. “I was just curious, that’s all. I didn’t say I wanted to buy it.”
“You can ask Joyce about that, too, then. How’s your dinner?”
She was thrilled he changed the subject. “It’s fantastic. Do you want to try some of this? It’s amazing.” She picked up several pieces of her sauerbraten and set it on his plate.
“Only if you try this.” Dan returned the favor, setting some type of sausage chunk on hers. “My mother was German, but even she can’t cook like this.” He winked at her. “’Course, if you meet her, don’t ever tell her I said that.”
Carrie smiled. “Deal.”
****
Dusty paced back and forth inside the trailer. Ever since he’d been back out to the ranch again, his trailer felt like a shoebox in comparison. If he did get the chance to buy it, he would definitely move into the house no matter how rundown it was. It had more room than this tin box.
Unwelcomed, an image of Carrie lounging with him on the narrow couch came to mind. How many times had they tried to pass each other in the small area and ended up rubbing up against one another. ’Course, that was never a bad thing, either, as it usually led to some good times. No, when he and Carrie had lived in this trailer together, he’d never minded the close confines, that’s for sure.
He ran his hand along the back of his neck and took a long drink of beer. He couldn’t help but think about her, especially as he got closer and closer to getting the ranch. Why was that? He wasn’t about to tell her about it. Hell, who knew if he could even buy it. He was well short of what he needed for a down payment, with no way to make any additional money. The next show was tomorrow night, and he needed to get himself in the right frame of mind to get his best times ever. He needed that purse. All he could do was hope no one else was looking at that property before he figured out the financing for the rest.
His cell phone rang. He grabbed it off his hip and glanced at the caller ID even as he answered it. His little sister. “Hey, Free. What’s up?”
“Just checking in to see how you are. You haven’t even been by to see us since you got to town.”
Dusty opened the refrigerator and pushed things around. “I was trying to give you newlyweds your privacy. I’m sure Zane doesn’t need another of your brothers hanging around at the ranch.”
“It’s not as if Grey comes by on a daily basis. We live in the same town and yet go weeks without seeing each other. Anyway, Zane’s gone for the evening, some Cattleman Association meeting or something. I’m craving ribs. Wanna get some barbecue?”
Dusty surveyed his meager fridge again. Cranky Hank’s was better than anything he had in here. “Sure, why not.”
“Don’t come all the way out here. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.”
He didn’t bother to argue with her. Free had a mind of her own, and he knew that any attempt on his part or her husband’s to pamper her during her pregnancy was going to be met with fierce resistance. Frankly, he wasn’t up to fighting with another female.
He dragged his hand through his hair. Maybe his sister would have some insight into this crazy idea Carrie had about moving to Wayback and becoming “a normal person” as she put it.
Fifte
en minutes later, freshly showered, he drove into town. He watched as his baby sister jumped down from her old truck and raced toward him. He caught her up, a little shocked at the bulge of her belly as it pressed into him.
“Hey, what’s that in there?” He held her away from him and glanced down.
Free grinned and spread her hands across the tiny mound that was barely noticeable. “That’s your nephew or niece. Pretty wild, huh?”
Dusty wasn’t sure if wild was the term he’d use, but it definitely was strange. Six months ago Free was racing her horses around barrels, breaking records, and heading into her best season ever. Now here she was, all but retired and settled into married family life. “You feeling okay?”
Free laughed. “Yeah. I feel great, but starving. Come on.” She headed toward the door, and Dusty got there just in time to yank it open for her.
Cranky Hank’s was busy, but they managed to slip into a booth and within a short time were digging into their dinner.
“I’ve had ribs all across the country, but these are the best. Is it the sauce or the rub they use?” Free sat back and wiped her mouth with the paper napkin.
Dusty shook his head. “I have no idea, but they are good.” He wiped his fingers and picked up his cup of sweet tea. At the counter, BobbiJo glared at him. The daggers the dark-haired woman flung his way should have killed him dead on the spot. That was one gal who would love to put a fork in him, that’s for sure.
He leaned toward his sister across the table. “Did you know Carrie’s living in Wayback?”
Free’s eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about? When did that happen? I haven’t seen her in town.”
“I don’t know how you couldn’t have. Says she’s been here a few months.”
Free ducked her head. “Between the broken ankle, and, well, spending quality alone time out on the ranch with Zane, I guess it’s possible I haven’t seen her.”