His Country Girl

by Jillian Hart

  She had no trust left. All she could see was reaching out, needing him to help, to be there for her, to be there for Owen and hearing the door close as he walked away. It was Ricky’s voice she heard as he’d packed his things. “I’ve had enough. Enough problems, enough demands, enough bills. All I do is work and work some more. This isn’t fun.”

  “What about Owen?” she’d asked.

  “I’ll call him when I get to Reno.” The suitcase had slammed shut and he’d hauled it off the bed, facing her, packed and ready to go.

  “What about me?” The question had felt torn out of her.

  “I don’t care anymore.” His affection had turned to contempt and she didn’t know why as he’d shouldered past her and out the door. Leaving her alone with a sobbing little boy, her own heartbreak. She would find out later about the unpaid rent, overdue bills and less than a hundred dollars in the bank account.

  Not all marriages went down that path, she knew, but how could she trust Tucker? She wanted to. He was sincere, loyal and his heart was big enough, but he had recognition, fame within the rodeo set, a lifestyle that took him away for a part of the year and no history of staying put. What if she needed him, truly leaned on him, and he let her down? What if one day the going got tough and he took one look at her and Owen and decided they weren’t worth the work and dedication love took?

  Her heart was scarred enough. “You weren’t here, so you don’t know how devastating it was when Ricky walked out on me. I had a little boy broken, who cried himself to sleep every night for an entire year missing his daddy. I was left holding the pieces of a shattered life I didn’t know if I could put back together. About the time I managed to find an even keel, Owen was diagnosed with his heart condition and we were plunged into chaos again.”

  “But I was there for you both at the hospital, wasn’t I?” His hand covered hers, warm as a kept promise, solid as a committed vow.

  “Yes, but I can’t risk it. For Owen’s sake.”

  “And yours.” The man saw everything, his tone so low, she could hardly hear his words. His gaze intensified, holding her captive as if he saw clearly her weakness.

  “I can’t give my heart again. It’s just better this way.” She might love him, but no promises had been made. This was the best time to walk away. “We can be friends.”

  “I don’t want to be friends.” He withdrew, sorrow etching its way across his features and into her heart.

  She didn’t want him to go. She wanted to keep him from leaving, to confess her feelings, to grab at this chance for happiness. But that’s all it was—a chance. She’d made that leap of faith and failed once. All she could see was how very much it would hurt Owen if a relationship didn’t work out with Tucker.

  And how very much it would hurt her.

  “Sierra!” Sandi called from the back, unaware of the conversation taking place. “Order up!”

  “I’d better go.” He braced both hands on the table-top, leveling his substantial frame out of the booth. Rising above her, he seemed to go on forever, so large and impressive in her view that no other man could compare.

  If only she wasn’t so afraid, she would tell him the truth. That she was clinging to denial with all her might. She had done more than fall in love with him. She’d gone so far there was no turning back. He had a hold on her heart forever.

  Just tell him, Sierra. She took a deep breath, rising from the bench seat and searching for the words. There were none. What she found instead were the images of packed suitcases, the echoed knell of boots walking down the hall and the front door squeaking open.

  The fear that he didn’t love her enough wrapped around her like a straitjacket, keeping her from confessing the truth. She loved him too much to be hurt like that again.

  “Good-bye, Tucker.” It took all her willpower to keep her voice from cracking. “Will you be leaving soon?”

  “Immediately.” He hurt, too. The evidence shone in his shadowed eyes, pinched in the corners of his mouth, radiated from him like ice on a wintry wind. “Take care, Sierra. Tell Owen I’ll call him from the road tomorrow.”

  “He’ll like that.” Her throat closed. This was her last chance to tell him not to go, but she feared he would leave anyway. Hadn’t he said there was email, text messaging, internet chat rooms. Lots of ways to keep in touch with Owen. With Owen.

  Not with her. Unable to speak, she lifted her hand and managed to waggle a few fingers in a semblance of a wave.

  “Good-bye, Sierra.” His voice caught, a silent plea crossed his handsome face. When she didn’t respond, his wide shoulders slumped. As if gathering up his strength, his spine straightened, the pain disappeared from his chiseled features. He walked through the door and out of her life.

  Cady Winslow studied her reflection in the cheval mirror, not recognizing herself. A strange woman stared back at her, one with a secret sparkling in her green eyes and her cheeks flushed with excitement. She was going on a date with Frank Granger. She still couldn’t believe it.

  She’d heard his story from several women friends at his oldest son’s wedding a while ago in December. After Frank’s wife ran out on him and left him with five kids to raise, he had taken Lainie back when she’d fallen ill and she’d needed someone to care for her. The mayor’s wife said Lainie had ruined Frank for all women. He’d never looked at another woman in all those long years since.

  Until her.

  Don’t get your hopes up too high. That was a sure path to disappointment. She straightened her silk jacket and debated changing her shoes again, but footsteps charging down the narrow hall in her direction made her forget about her shoes entirely.

  “Aunt Cady! Aunt Cady!” Her goddaughters tumbled into her bedroom in a flurry of little-girl excitement, not that they were that little these days. Jenny was twelve going on thirty, and Julianna a sweet, innocent ten.

  “Girls, what do you think?” She loved these children as if they were her flesh and blood. They were honorary family, since she’d babysat their father, Adam, years ago when she was a teenager. She squinted at her earrings. Perhaps the pearls were too sedate.

  “You’re pretty.” Julianna spoke first and grabbed hold of Cady’s hand. “But we need to talk about the horses.”

  “You mean my horse?” She brushed a wayward lock of brown hair that had escaped her ponytail out of the girl’s face. While she loved that they had come out to help celebrate the opening of her inn, she loathed that they had to leave. “I promise I will let you ride Misty again first thing tomorrow before you all leave for the airport.”

  “I know. I mean the other horses.” Julianna gave a tug. “The ones you are going to get.”

  “Oh, for my stables.” Cady laughed, always charmed by the ardent animal lover. “Do you have some advice for me?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it.” The girl’s brow furrowed with concentration. “You should get nice horses.”

  “I’ll put nice on the list.” She thanked Jenny, who handed her a pearl necklace to wear. Cady gathered her hair in a makeshift ponytail and knelt to let the older girl secure the clasp. “What else?”

  “You should get them from the shelter.” Julianna dropped onto the foot of the bed with a bounce. “Because it’s important to save animals.”

  What a dear heart. Cady couldn’t say no to that. “I promise I will save every horse I buy. I’ll have my manager get right on it. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Julianna’s smile could light up the world.

  The doorbell rang, jolting terror straight into Cady’s bloodstream. Frank was here! Her blood pressure shot into the red zone. Boy, was she nervous. At one last glance in the mirror, she shrugged. It was the best she could do. Time had run out to fuss and second-guess her wardrobe choices.

  “C’mon, Aunt Cady.” Jenny touched her sleeve. “You look nice. Like a magazine cover.”

  “Not true, but I love you for saying so.” She hugged both girls. Male voices murmured from the front of the cottage. Adam and Frank e
xchanging greetings, from the sound of it. She didn’t want to keep him waiting, so she grabbed her little evening purse and marched the girls ahead of her down the short hallway and into the warmth of the living room, where two men stood in the entry. Only one man stole every ounce of her attention and the entire focus of her gaze. Frank looked incomparable in a dark dinner jacket, tie and slacks. His snowy shirt contrasted pleasantly with his sun-browned complexion.

  Be still my heart, she thought. Never had a man affected her so much. Never had she been a basket of nerves. He was her most secret prayer come to life. She so wanted the evening to go well and the fear it might be a disaster tortured her. Taking on her first cross-examination in front of a judge and jury hadn’t been as terrifying.

  “Cady.” Frank’s richly layered baritone warmed immeasurably as he said her name. His mile-wide shoulders straightened, his chest lifted and the appreciation respectfully shining in his blue gaze was the best gift he could have given her. The flowers he handed her couldn’t compare. “I was just talking to Adam about little Owen Baker. He saved that boy’s life. We’re all grateful.”

  “Just doing my job,” Adam added gruffly, not at all aware of the difference he had made. It was a difference he made every day. Because he cared so much, she could tell the long hours and dedication were taking their toll, along with the aftermath of a painful divorce. She worried he might burn out, a shame for a caring doctor. Adam raked a hand through his brown hair, obviously uncomfortable. “You two have fun.”

  “We’ll try.” She handed the flowers to Jenny, who was closest, and kissed each girl on the cheek. Then she slipped into the coat Frank insisted on holding for her and walked through the door he insisted on opening for her.

  Her hopes were definitely way too high as she stepped across her cottage’s tiny porch and into the rain. Frank was ready with an umbrella, bless him, and held it overhead as he escorted her to his truck.

  “This is a Wyoming Cadillac,” he quipped as he opened the door and gave her a hand up onto the leather seat. “It’s not fancy.”

  Was he self-conscious, too? She laid her hand on the cuff of his jacket. The gesture surprised her and she knew when his eyes widened that it had surprised him, too. Really endearing. She relaxed a notch. “Do you know what Autumn says about me?”

  “Knowing my daughter, it has to be something good. She likes you.”

  “And I like her. She says I’m a country girl down deep.” Cady had discovered it was true. She missed the life she’d left behind in Manhattan, but even as a young girl she’d dreamed of wide-open skies and having a horse as one of her best friends. Of running a beautiful inn full of pretty rooms and friendly people.

  She’d taken the long way to her dream, working her way up to senior partner, but early retirement had brought her not only here to her childhood dreams but to new ones she’d given up on. Romance had found her. But would it work out?

  Lord, please. I’ve never wanted anything so much.

  “That’s good news,” Frank quipped in his relaxed, sweet-humored manner. “Because I made reservations at a steak house. There’s a French restaurant over in Sunshine, but I’d rather not go there. I’m not gonna eat snails.”

  “That’s two of us.” She laughed, she couldn’t help it. Her nerves had disappeared. The rain poured down with hurricane force, but it felt like the sunniest of days because of the man who tugged out her seat belt and helped her click the buckle. He closed her door against the rain with a humble, gentlemanly strength that captured her heart ever more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nerves were still giving Frank a bit of trouble, but all in all he figured things were going great for a first date. He took a swallow of cola. “How’s your steak?”

  “Divine. Filet mignon is one of my favorites. I insisted it had to be on the inn’s menu.” The dim lighting did her justice—any lighting did. Her sleek hair shone with deep russets and polished chestnuts and honeyed browns framing her endearing, heart-shaped face. With her radiant skin and emerald-green eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her movements were elegant as she sliced a dainty piece of beef. “My chef is someone I brought out from New York. She was a client of mine.”

  “It’s hard to see you as a cutthroat attorney. Not that you aren’t smart enough,” he was quick to add.

  “I love the law. It is incredibly fascinating, not that there aren’t flaws. Nothing is perfect, but I set out to use my talents to help people.” She set down her knife on the edge of her plate. In the play of muted light, her caring spirit shone through. “I think I accomplished that.”

  “You like making a difference.” Easy to see. Easy to like. He set down his knife and stabbed a piece of beef, gathering up his courage to turn the conversation to the personal. “Why didn’t you ever marry?”

  “I had a fiancé once.” Sadness flashed in her jewel-green irises. “Oh, I was young. We met in our first year at law school. He was a serious student, too. We studied together and then when we were done, we studied some more together. We were close for years.”

  “Did he break your heart? Or did you break his?”

  “A little of both.” At least she was honest. “Over time, we both began to see we were very different people. He wanted a stay-at-home wife. I wanted to ace my bar exam and start as a junior associate in a well-respected firm.”

  The sadness returned, and he hated that she had known disappointment of any kind. He wanted to fix that for her and to keep it from happening again. “I know something about finding yourself worlds apart from the person you love and not sure how you got there.”

  “That was exactly what happened. I thought we were heading in one direction, so by the time I realized I was standing alone on that path it was too late.” She poked the tines of her fork into a sautéed half moon of zucchini squash on her plate. “He made me choose. So I took my bar exam.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “Now and then. I didn’t want to marry a man who would make me choose like that.”

  “No, he didn’t understand your heart.”

  “Exactly.” Amazing how she and Frank got along so well. The evening had been perfect, the conversation as easy as breathing. It was unexpected and thrilling and right, all wrapped up in one. She studied the zucchini stuck on her fork. “I made the right choice. God has richly blessed my career, so I’m sure I followed His path, but there was never anyone else.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Frank watched her with a resplendent intensity she’d never experienced before. It made her want to all at once blush and hide and hold tight to this moment, to never let it end. He leaned in, listening intently. “There was no one since law school? That’s a long stretch of lonely.”

  “Yes.” He’d pegged it exactly. “I filled my time with work. Demanding work and so much of it, time sped by and I didn’t notice it. I dated, but nothing turned serious. Things just didn’t work out.”

  It was better to gloss over the emptiness she’d felt when she would stumble into her building late, the sounds of life from other apartments permeating the walls as she ambled down the hall to her door. Her key turning the bolt would echo and the place felt vacant as she closed the door behind her. No one to greet her. No laughter of family, no interesting conversations. She would turn on the television to cover up the silence. She may have moved away, but those things hadn’t changed. She winced. “How about you?”

  “Me?” He took another sip of cola, setting the glass down with careful deliberation, gathering his thoughts. “Time sped by for me, too. As if running a cattle ranch wasn’t enough to keep me on my toes, I raised five kids mostly on my own. I had to think about their needs first.”

  “Of course. Your commitment to them shows, Frank. You have a wonderful family.”

  “Thanks. Those kids are my great treasures.” He shrugged a shoulder self-consciously. He didn’t look like a man comfortable with feelings, but he forged ahead anyway. “After the youngest, Addy, w
as off to college I could have started dating but I wasn’t ready. I suppose you heard that, too.”

  “Yes.” She took a bite and watched him speculatively.

  “Truth is I never thought I would try again.” He firmed his jaw and dug deep for the courage he needed. “When Lainie came back sick and dying and I had to take her in, it about killed me. I did it because of my kids. Lainie was their mother. I took care of her, made sure she had the finest medical and nursing care, and I put aside my broken heart. Every time I saw her, those pieces broke more. By the time she was gone, I didn’t think I had anything left.”

  “That had to have been very difficult for you.” She set down her fork, her empathy and understanding as tangible as the brush of her hand on his. “Only a truly good man would have done something like that.”

  “I don’t know about good. It was the right thing.” He let her touch comfort him, just a little, all he could allow, and twined his fingers through hers. It felt good to hold on to someone. He’d been alone for an excruciatingly long time. “My kids were able to come to terms with Lainie’s abandonment. They made their peace with her. That was worth any wound to me.”

  Her hold on him tightened, telling him she understood. She saw the man he was, for better or worse, scars and all, and she didn’t think less of him. She had scars of her own, too.

  They were like souls, after all.

  Tucker yanked open the dryer door and dug out the warm mound of clothes. They tumbled into the basket at his feet as the television droned from the living room down the hall. His cousin had taken over the couch and found a movie on the satellite. He liked Sean, but he wasn’t in the mood for a movie or company. Being trampled by a raging bronc had not been nearly as painful as Sierra admitting she didn’t love him.

  Enough. That was the word she’d used. What did that mean? And why had she cut things off between them? He fished the last sock out of the depths of the dryer, tossed it into the basket and straightened.