Careful not to let it heat up too much, he kept his desire controlled, saving his hunger for later.
“Are you certain you’re starving?” he whispered against her lips.
Dana pulled back, her eyes bright. “Famished.”
“Then we’d better feed your beast.”
The converted home had several rooms for dining, each holding a variety of tables with seating for small and large groups. A pretty waitress with dark hair twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck greeted them.
“A reservation for MacLaren.”
“Of course, Mr. MacLaren. Your table is ready.”
They followed her to a booth in one of the smaller rooms. Dana slid over, hoping Mitch would choose to sit next to her rather than on the opposite side. Setting his hat upside down on the bench across from her, he sat down, grasping her hand in his.
“Whiskey for me and a margarita for the lady. No salt.”
“I can’t believe you remembered,” Dana said, opening her menu.
“Are you kidding? I’m the one who had to carry you to the car the night we all went to Olivia’s Hacienda and you split a large pitcher with Amber. And I took you home since you couldn’t drive. I never saw anyone power down so many margaritas.”
Dana couldn’t remember much of anything about that night, except it had been the first time she’d accepted her attraction to Mitch and tried to drown it in alcohol. “I’ll bet you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
He shrugged. “Eric had to get Amber home and no one else was around, so…”
“I see. So you played the martyr, sacrificing your time to take a lady home.”
“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t explain taking her home posed no hardship, nor did carrying her upstairs, holding her to his chest when she passed out after unlocking the front door. Laying her on the bed, he’d watched until certain she’d gone into a deep sleep, then left.
“Here you are.” The waitress set down the drinks, took their order, then left as another server placed a heaping basket of chips and bowl of salsa on the table.
Dana picked up her glass and tilted it toward Mitch. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“I’m glad you could make it up here on short notice.”
They sat in silence, Mitch watching Dana’s brows knit together as if trying to decide what to say.
“Go ahead, spit it out.”
She whipped her head toward him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re trying to decide if you should ask me a question.” The corners of his lips curved up at the way her eyes widened. “Go ahead…ask.”
“Well, I just wondered if you’d ever had a serious relationship.”
The smile disappeared as a muscle flickered at his jaw, a grim expression clouding his face.
“You know, forget it. I had no right to ask.”
He brought the whiskey to his lips and took a sip, letting it coat his mouth and warm his throat on the way down.
“One. In college. But I learned my lesson and won’t let it happen again.” He tossed back the rest of his drink and set the glass on the table.
“I’m sorry, Mitch. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He grabbed a chip, loading it with salsa, then putting it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Swallowing, he glanced at Dana. He’d been wondering the same about her.
“We were together three years. I met her in biology my freshman year. She was a sophomore and I thought we had something special. At least until I walked in on her and my best friend one night—in my bed. I tossed them both out, burned the mattress, and decided to never go down that road again.”
Dana took a long sip of her margarita and sat back, speechless. She already knew he’d walked in on his mother and her lover, not once, but twice. Then to have his girlfriend repeat the betrayal. She took another sip and shook her head. The breakup with her boyfriend had been rough, but at least she’d never caught him in bed with another woman. Turning toward him, she speared him with a serious look.
“You’re better off without that skank.”
Mitch’s mouth twitched until he couldn’t contain a bark of laughter. “Damn straight. She was a skank.” He motioned to the waiter for another drink and settled back, glad Dana hadn’t made a big deal of it. “How about you? Anything serious?”
“One. Well, two if you count my high school boyfriend who broke up with me the night of senior prom.”
“Ouch.”
“I got over it. The serious relationship happened in Denver. I met him before Amber came to town and thought he could do no wrong. We talked of marriage, planned on it. Then one night he walked in after work, said he’d fallen in love with someone else, and walked out.” She took a long gulp, almost finishing her drink. “I never saw him again.”
Mitch rolled the glass of whiskey between his palms. “Seems we both have our reasons for not wanting to be in a relationship again.”
Dana thought the same for a long time, but since she’d met Mitch, her hard stance on love had begun to soften. She needed to tighten it up again, and quick, before her feelings for him grew.
“The difference between us is someday I want a family—children and all the stuff that goes with it. So, at some point, I’ll let myself fall in love again and marry. You’re content to live alone with an occasional friend with benefits.” Her stomached clenched, knowing she fell into that category with him.
For some reason her comment sent a chill through Mitch. He gripped his glass, staring into it, and wondering if his decision to deny himself any serious relationship still held true.
“These plates are hot,” the waitress warned, setting their food down. “May I get you anything else?”
Mitch cleared his throat. “Uh…no, this is fine.” He picked up his fork, scooped up a portion, and took a bite. The enchilada tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
“This is great. Here, you have to try it.” She loaded her fork and held it out to him.
Mitch had never been one to enjoy sharing food, yet Dana shoving her fork in his face didn’t bother him. Opening his mouth, he took what she offered, enjoying the mix of chiles and cheese with roasted tomato salsa.
“What do you think?”
He swallowed. “I can see why you like it.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Don’t I get to sample your enchiladas?”
He cut a section and held out his fork, letting her slide the corn tortilla, cheese, and chicken mixture into her mouth. Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched until she swallowed, then leaned down and kissed her.
“You had some sauce on your mouth,” he explained as he pulled back.
“Thanks.” A shiver rippled through her as she tried not to think of the future. Focusing on this one night, she finished her meal, looking forward to whatever time they did have together.
******
Mitch opened his eyes to slits as the moonlight slipped through the opening in the curtains. Reaching over, he found the space beside him empty, but still warm. He sat up and glanced around, not seeing her. Slipping into his jeans, he stepped into the dark hallway and walked toward the living room.
Dana stood in front of the large river rock fireplace, wearing one of his t-shirts, her arms crossed. She stared up, focused on the oversized oil painting hanging above the mantel. It had taken him months to complete the landscape of the rugged mountains he saw each day through his studio window.
Stopping at her back, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her shudder as he pulled her to his chest. “Do you like it?”
She relaxed against him, settling her hands on his. “I love it. This one and the landscape in the entry at Rafe’s house are my two favorites. Do you have favorites?”
He lifted a hand to sweep soft strands of hair from her neck before letting his lips trail down the smooth column. “Hmmm…?” he breathed against her skin.
Dana tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access, then closed her
eyes. They’d made love twice before exhaustion claimed them. Waking after midnight, she’d stared at the ceiling, listening to his measured breathing, and finally decided to search the kitchen for tea. Picking up her steaming cup, she settled onto the large leather sofa, studying the furniture and artwork, amazed at Mitch’s talent. He never spoke of it and had yet to give her a tour of his studio. Perhaps it remained a part of his life off limits to anyone except family and close friends.
Sighing, she turned in his arms and looked up. “Your artwork. Do you have any favorites?”
“They’re all special, but for different reasons.” Huskiness from waking in the middle of the night, hungering for another round with Dana, lingered in his tone. “The one above the fireplace took the longest. I started it after graduating from college. I’d been absorbed in finishing the inside of the house as well as the studio and needed a distraction, something requiring effort and focus. It took several months before I was satisfied with it.”
She rested her cheek against his chest and tried to stifle a yawn, wondering if the painting was therapy to help forget the betrayal of his college girlfriend. Or, maybe it came from sheer inspiration.
He lowered his arms and grabbed her hand. “Come back to bed, Dana. We still have a lot of time before sunrise.”
******
“Are you ready?” Mitch swung up on his horse, glancing over his shoulder at Dana who sat a few feet away on a mare he’d acquired in early summer.
She nodded. “Ready.” Shifting in the saddle to get comfortable, she thought of the previous night and the many times they’d made love. The soreness this morning served as a reminder, but she didn’t care.
After breakfast they’d packed a lunch, Mitch deciding she needed to see the area from horseback rather than the passenger seat of his truck. As they walked toward the barn, she placed a hand on his arm.
“Am I ever going to see your studio?”
“It’s not much. Are you sure you want to see it?”
“Absolutely,” she smiled, excited to finally see where he created his beautiful artwork.
His lips tilted up at the corners. “All right. Come on.”
He gave her a brief tour, explaining his pastimes and answering all her questions. Promising she could come back and study his work anytime she wanted, he took her hand and headed toward the barn to saddle the horses.
Riding side-by-side, he pointed out different landmarks, places he liked to ride, and relayed a little of the history of Crooked Tree.
“I don’t know why Pop chose to come up here after the split with his father, Heath, and Jace. He doesn’t share much, but I know he met Kade’s mother not long after deciding this is where he wanted to settle and started to accumulate property. After she disappeared, he met my mother, bought more acreage, and built his house.”
“His house?”
“Mother never wanted to stay here and didn’t give a whit about the house. The life and town bored her.” His lips thinned before a mirthless laugh escaped. “I think she kept having children to relieve the boredom.”
The idea made no sense to Dana. “I doubt any woman would continue having children due to boredom.”
“I don’t know why they even married. She never wanted to stay, he never planned to leave.” He glanced at her, seeing a smile spread across her face.
“Perhaps they were like us. Great chemistry.” Her brows lifted a couple times, and she grinned at him. “Do you mind if we stop for a few minutes to stretch?”
His tried to wrap his mind around her comment. Yes, he and Dana had great chemistry, resulting in incredible sex. He also saw her as a friend, someone he could rely on to be honest and not play games. And he liked her, a lot. The thought she may have begun to crack his indifference bothered Mitch more than a little.
“Mitch?”
“Uh…sure. We’ll stop under those trees.” He pointed to a stand of junipers, still disturbed at how much he enjoyed her company.
Reining to a stop, he reached into his saddlebags, removing water and sandwiches while Dana spread out a blanket.
“Is this land part of the original ranch?”
“Yes. Over the years Pop bought as much property as he could afford, always intending each of his kids get a portion of it.”
“It must have been hard to choose a spot. It’s all so beautiful.”
“Not for me. I knew for years this would be where I’d build a home, raise…” his voice trailed off as he realized what he’d been about to say. “Sean built his place last year and the others have their land picked out.”
“Sounds like all of you plan to stay here and continue with the business.”
“I don’t see there’s any reason for us to leave.” He let his gaze wander over the expansive view, admiring his small herd of cattle in the distance. “It’s paradise.”
******
He led her on a different trail back to his house, pointing out two creeks, and the property line between his land and Sean’s. As they rounded the last bend, both spotted a truck parked in front of the house.
“Guess we’ve got company,” he muttered, looking at Dana, remembering her desire to keep their friendship quiet. “What do you want to do?”
“Why don’t I put the horses away while you find out who it is?”
He nodded, already recognizing Sean’s truck and hoping no one else waited inside. “I’ll be out as soon as I can.”
Dana took the horses into the barn, replacing the bridles with harnesses before starting on the saddles. She glanced over her shoulder a couple times at the sound of raised voices, then again when the truck engine roared to life. Not long afterward, Mitch came in and stopped beside her, his lips twisted into a hard line, jaw clenched.
“Sean just left. He drove out after he couldn’t reach me on my phone.” Mitch had turned it off during the ride, not expecting anything urgent. “Several of our bulls are down. Doc Wheaton is out there now. I need to go meet them.”
“Of course. Do you want me to stay or try to get a flight back?”
“Stay. I shouldn’t be gone too long.” He wrapped an arm around her and hauled her to him for a ravishing kiss that left her breathless when he drew away. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered against her lips.
Watching Mitch leave, she couldn’t help but wonder at all the problems befalling the company over the last weeks. Mitch mentioned the possibility of sabotage during their ride, not providing names, although she believed he had his suspicions. He focused on three groups—competitors, a former employee out for payback, or someone with a personal grudge against one or more of the owners. Most didn’t know of the MacLaren acquisition, meaning, if it were a grudge, it would be against Rafe, Mitch, or one of his siblings.
She finished grooming the horses, then released them into the corral next to the barn, tucking her gloves into the back pocket of her jeans. Having no idea how long Mitch would be gone, Dana took a quick shower, not finding her sweats and t-shirt as she rummaged in her bag. Somehow she’d missed adding them.
Considering her options, which included wearing her slacks from the night before or her jeans from their ride, she opted to pull one of Mitch’s t-shirts out of the dresser. The first one fell to her calves and the second had huge white skulls with crossed pistols on the front. Folding the two and setting them back in the drawer, she tried to pull out a third, but it hung up on something in the back of the drawer. Tugging slightly, it broke loose, and as she pulled the t-shirt out, a framed picture slid along with it.
Dana stared at the smiling faces of an older woman and a younger Mitch, arms around each other, the resemblance hard to miss—mother and son. She guessed it must have been taken in high school. Thinking back, Dana figured the timing to be after he’d caught his mother the first time and before finding her with the same man years afterwards. A picture like this should be on display to appreciate and share with others. The fact he’d tucked it away and probably hadn’t looked at it in a long time told her a lot abou
t his true feelings for his mother. The realization pained her. Betrayal was a hard pill to swallow.
Being careful to slide it all the way to the back, she closed the drawer and slipped into the long-sleeved camo shirt, the soft cotton feeling wonderful against her bare skin. Grabbing a book, she padded to the kitchen, searching the shelves, refrigerator, and freezer. After pulling salmon from the freezer, she set a box of pasta on the counter and began mincing garlic.
Another hour passed as she diced onions, sliced asparagus, and uncorked white wine to add to the sauce. Knowing it would all come together within thirty minutes after Mitch arrived, she picked up her book and settled into the oversized sofa. Within minutes Dana fell asleep to the ticking of the antique clock on the mantel.
Chapter Seventeen
“I still don’t understand how four of our best bulls could fall ill within a few hours of each other unless it’s the feed.” Mitch walked Doc Wheaton to her truck, worry etched across his face.
“As I said, it could be the feed, although I believe it’s unlikely. Let me do the tests. My guess is it’s some kind of virus. I’ve already given them medication for infection. Obviously, none may be used in a rodeo until I figure out what’s going on.” Gayle set the samples in her truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything.”
“What about the bull calves? Should we separate them?”
She shrugged. “If you want, but I don’t believe whatever the adult bulls have is contagious.”
Placing his hands on his hips, Mitch frowned as he watched her pull out onto the street. Her last words made no sense. Any vet worth their salt knew you isolated the sick bulls from those not infected with special care to isolating the calves.
“What did she say?” Sean stopped next to him.
Mitch continued to stare after her truck, remembering a comment that had always stuck with him. “Tell me the number one rule our prior vet always said to do about infections?”
“Isolate the sick from the well animals. Why?”
“Gayle said she didn’t believe it was necessary.” Mitch turned toward the pens, walking toward Emilio and Fritz.
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