Man From Montana

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Man From Montana Page 7

by Brenda Mott


  Deciding some progress was better than none at all, Derrick left him alone. In the kitchen, he started putting away the breakfast dishes Connor had washed earlier, but when he opened the cupboard, he saw the blue plastic pitcher that belonged to Kara. He’d forgotten to return it once he and Connor finished off the lemonade. It was a handy excuse to go over to her house and make nice, so Derrick headed out the door.

  Her truck had been gone earlier when he and Connor went to town, but it was back now. On the porch, Derrick raised his hand to rap on the screen door, but Kara appeared at that exact moment.

  “Derrick.” She looked startled to find him standing there. “I was just heading over to your house.”

  “Really?” He studied her face, trying to read her expression.

  From the fenced backyard, her collie dog ran up to the chain link and barked at him. “Hey, Lady,” he called. “How’d you get so muddy?”

  “She waded through the creek while I was out riding this morning. She’s going to have to have a bath before she can come back in the house.” Kara held the screen door open. “Come on in.”

  “I thought I’d better return your lemonade pitcher.” Derrick held it aloft as he stepped inside.

  “Oh, thanks.” Kara took it, then motioned for him to sit down. “I’ll be right back.”

  Derrick started to sit in a comfortable-looking leather chair, but his gaze fell on the photo on top of the entertainment center. Kara in her wedding gown—looking too young to be a bride—clinging happily to the arm of her husband. Curious, Derrick took a closer look.

  What had she said his name was? Edwin…no Evan. That was it. In the photo, Evan Tillman looked like the happiest guy on earth. And who could blame him, with Kara on his arm? She was gorgeous in the lacy bridal gown, the scooped neckline showing a hint of cleavage. Her hair had been even longer then, and it lay draped over her shoulder like so much silk.

  Derrick picked up the photo and studied Evan. The guy wasn’t bad-looking. He had reddish-brown hair, cut neat, and he was dressed in a gray, western-style tux and cowboy boots.

  So, Kara had a thing for cowboys.

  Or at least one.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Kara called from the kitchen.

  Starting guiltily, Derrick almost dropped the picture. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you’ve got handy.”

  Quickly, he set it back in place and dropped into the leather chair. Signs of Evan’s presence seemed to jump out at him everywhere. A hardhat hung from a row of wooden pegs behind the front door, and an open coat closet revealed a pair of men’s work boots on the floor. More pictures of Kara and Evan lined the walls, and in one corner of the room was a gun rack, a lever-action Winchester—probably a .30-.30—hanging on it. The rifle looked well-used but lovingly cared for.

  “I hope Diet Pepsi is all right,” Kara said. “It’s about all I’ve got right now, unless you want more pink—”

  Caught staring at her dead husband’s rifle, Derrick forced a smile and reached for the can. “That’s fine, thanks.”

  Kara quickly hid her expression—but not quickly enough. And suddenly, it hit Derrick between the eyes. She was still in love with the guy. Not that he’d expected her to be over him after only a few months, but…

  But what?

  Derrick popped the tab and took a healthy swig, determined to keep this visit short.

  “I didn’t come over just to return your lemonade pitcher,” he said.

  “No?”

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry for being so hard on you the other day. It’s just that what happened to Connor is still something I have a real tough time dealing with, obviously.”

  “Say no more.” Kara held up a hand. “I completely understand. And for the record, I was on my way over to apologize as well.”

  “Is that right?” This time his smile was genuine.

  “I shouldn’t have butted in where Connor is concerned. Which is why I’m not so sure you’re going to like what I’m about to suggest.”

  “What’s that?”

  She fiddled nervously with her pop tab. “I know someone who gives therapeutic riding lessons to handicapped kids. That is, my friends know her. Melanie Spencer.”

  “I’ve heard about her riding center.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. But for some reason, he’d never considered taking Connor there.

  “I was thinking Connor might want to go there. I know where the center is, if you think he might like to check it out.”

  Derrick had pictured the place as somewhere that severely disabled children went to exercise their motor skills. Connor already had a physical therapist. Shelly had chosen the guy.

  “That’s nice of you to think of him, Kara, but I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Connor likes horses, but he’s never really been around them much. I used to have one when I was young, and my parents…” He didn’t want to get into details about his estrangement from them. “My folks have a place over by Miles City. They still have a couple of horses, but I don’t think they ride them much anymore.” Not from what Connor had told him.

  “Well, you could ask him if he’d like to…”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He studied her. Why had she taken such an interest in his son? The other day, he’d accused her of using Connor to get close to him. Women had tried that before. But at the same time, Kara was the only woman who seemed to genuinely see past Connor’s wheelchair and relate to the boy.

  “That is, if you want to,” Kara hastened to add. “I’m not trying to be nosy again. It was just something that came up today while I was out riding with my friends.”

  “I didn’t think you were being nosy,” Derrick said. “But honestly, Kara, I have to ask—why so much interest in my son?”

  Obviously, she and Evan hadn’t had any kids. And obviously they’d been married long enough, by the looks of the wedding photo.

  Connor already had a mom. He didn’t need another one.

  Kara’s pretty, freckled skin flushed a pale pink. “I like Connor,” she said. “As I said before, he’s a good kid.”

  “He is. And Shelly is a good mother. Connor’s not lacking for parental guidance.” He kept his tone soft, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  She blushed even deeper. “I wasn’t insinuating anything of the sort,” she said. “It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice he doesn’t seem to have any friends to hang out with. I thought maybe the riding center might be a place where he could meet a few.”

  “Kids like him?”

  “Well, yeah.” She lifted a shoulder. “Just kids, you know? Someone he can laugh and talk with besides a bunch of adults in a bar.”

  Her comment made him bristle. “Are you saying I’m a bad influence, letting my boy hang out in a honky-tonk?”

  “No!” Kara set her Diet Pepsi down with a bang. “For heaven’s sake, Derrick. Are you always so defensive? I’m only trying to help.”

  “Fine.” He had no idea what riding lessons cost, but if Connor were interested, Derrick would find a way to pay for them. “We can ask him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” He stood, feeling the sudden need to get out of this room and away from Evan’s ghost. “You want to come on over to my place, or would you rather I asked Connor?”

  “No, I’ll go with you. I like chatting with him.” She stood as well. “As a matter of fact, I was wondering if the two of you were going to be at the Silver Spur tonight? Danita’s going there with Beth and Hannah again, and they invited me along.”

  “Are you asking me out, Kara?” This time his tone was teasing, making a mockery of his own pissy attitude toward her the other day.

  “No. Well, yeah. I guess I am.”

  He laughed. “I’m not playing with my band tonight, or bartending, either. I’d thought I might take Connor to a movie or something, but I can see what he wants to do.”

  “Oh, gosh—don’t let me interfere with your movie plans.” She tucked her hands in her
back pockets. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

  But suddenly, it was a big deal to him. Kara was actually asking him out.

  “Come on.” He nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go on over and talk to Connor. See what he thinks about everything.”

  He stepped aside, letting her pass through the door first.

  But before he closed it behind them, his gaze fell on the Winchester rifle again. It hung there, like a silent threat left behind by Evan.

  Stay away from my wife.

  WHAT HAD SHE BEEN THINKING, asking Derrick to go to the Silver Spur? Somehow, the invitation had tumbled out before she could stop it. Danita would never let her live it down.

  “Connor,” Derrick called as they stepped into the living room. He walked down the hallway to rap on Connor’s bedroom door. “Kara’s here. Come on out a minute.”

  Kara heard the door open, then the sound of quiet arguing. She made out the words “chat room” and “I told you.” Connor’s reply was inaudible, but he sounded upset. Maybe this hadn’t been such a swift idea after all. But she was already here. She couldn’t very well walk out.

  A moment later, Connor came wheeling down the hallway. “Hi, Kara,” he said, looking sullen.

  “Hey, Connor.” She smiled, hesitant. “I wanted to ask you and your dad to the Silver Spur tonight, but he tells me you might go to a movie.”

  “I don’t know.” Connor shrugged, not looking at Derrick.

  Kara plowed ahead. “Also, I was wondering if you might be interested in horseback riding?”

  “Riding?” He looked at her, frowning. But his eyes sparkled with interest. “Me?”

  “Sure. Why not? I know of a therapeutic riding center where the horses are specially trained for people with physical challenges—”

  “You’re talking about that place where the retarded kids ride,” Connor accused. “I’m not retarded, and I’m not going to ride with a bunch of little kids.”

  “Connor!” Derrick pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against.

  “It’s okay, Derrick.” Kara held up a hand. The boy had likely used the hateful word to rile his dad. “I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression, Connor. Hannah knows the woman who owns the place, and yes, a lot of the kids are young, and a lot of them have special needs. But there are all sorts of special needs. Why shouldn’t you get to ride, too?”

  “How?” He gave a sarcastic snort, and indicated his legs. “It would be sort of hard to balance in the saddle.”

  “They have tack designed so you can, Hannah tells me. And helpers to aid the riders.”

  “You mean they have people who walk beside the horses while they go in a circle,” Connor scoffed. “No thanks. I’m too old for a merry-go-round.”

  “Enough with the attitude.” Derrick folded his arms and took a step closer to Connor. “Kara’s just trying to be nice and find a way for you to have fun. You don’t need to be on that damned computer every waking minute of the day.”

  “Well, excuse me, Dad! You try sitting in a chair twenty-four-seven, and see how bored you get.” Connor took off through the kitchen, out the sliding glass doors to the side porch.

  “I know he’s your kid, Derrick, Kara said, “but could you give me a minute with him?”

  Derrick raked a hand through his hair. “Have at it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Connor sat at the far end of the porch, staring off into the distance.

  “Hey, Connor.” Kara pulled up a chair. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged, but said nothing.

  “Your dad is trying hard. Can’t you give him a break?”

  The boy’s blue eyes met hers, looking so much like Derrick’s. “He needs to give me a break. I’m not a baby.”

  “So stop acting like one.”

  “What?” His eyebrows arched.

  “You heard me. You’re making your father feel bad, acting this way. If you don’t want to ride, that’s fine. Why don’t you think of something to do your dad won’t have a problem with?” She lowered her voice. “You could pick a little guitar with him.”

  “No!” The answer came out sharp and quick, and Connor looked as upset as he’d been that day she’d found him playing Derrick’s guitar.

  “Why not?”

  His sullen expression was back. “He doesn’t know I play.”

  Now it was Kara’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “He doesn’t?”

  “And I don’t want him to know.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Connor sighed. “It’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” Kara stood. “But I sure wish you’d change your mind about God’s Little Acre. If you do, let me know.” She walked back into the house.

  Inside, Derrick looked expectantly at her. “No luck. Sorry.” She forced a smile. “But I’d still like to see you guys tonight, if you think Connor will come.”

  Or come by yourself, so I can spend time with you.

  The thought appealed to her more than she cared to admit.

  “Thanks,” Derrick said. “I guess I’ll have to see what’s going on.”

  “Sure.” She moved to the front door. “See you later.”

  “Kara, wait.”

  She paused, with the screen partway open. “Yeah?”

  “I’d like to see the riding center sometime.”

  “Really?”

  Derrick nodded. “Connor will be going to his mom’s house next weekend for a couple of weeks. Maybe you could introduce me to Melanie.”

  Kara started to say that she hadn’t met her yet, either. But she felt bad for him. He was trying so hard with his son. It had to be hard enough to parent a teenager without Connor’s added challenges.

  “Yeah, sure. We can do that. Just let me know exactly when you want to go. I’m off on Saturdays.”

  “Great. I’ll be in touch.”

  Kara crossed the street, making a beeline for her backyard. She’d wash Lady off with the hose and the dog shampoo she kept in the garage.

  That would give her something to keep her mind occupied.

  CONNOR SAT ALONE on the porch, waiting for his dad to come outside once Kara left and start yelling at him again for being online in a chat room.

  What the hell did his dad think he was going to do? Be stupid enough to give some pervert his address? He knew pedophiles posed as kids online. Just because he couldn’t walk didn’t mean he was stupid.

  Which was the way most of the kids at school treated him. He’d recently found a chat group made up of kids who lived in Montana. In this chat room, he could be himself—ConMan1, a screen name his friends knew him by. Or he could be MTcwby89—an upcoming senior, who’d just moved to the area.

  The kids in the group talked about rodeos and country music. And just before his dad had barged in and gone ballistic, Connor saw he’d gotten a reply from a screen name he recognized. CanChaser1. He’d not only run across her in another chat room, but he’d also seen her in town plenty of times—the nickname “Can Chaser” etched across the back window of her fancy Dodge pickup.

  Kerri Hendricks. He’d be going to the same high school as her this fall, and her dad owned one of the biggest cattle ranches in Sage Bend. Kerri had been rodeo queen of the county fair last year. She was a top-notch barrel racer, and so damned pretty she made Connor lightheaded every time he saw her. She had long blond hair and brown eyes, and round, full boobs.

  But like the girls at his old school, Kerri looked right past him. When he was in the chat room, though, he could talk to her. He was MTcwby89—athletic, good-looking… He’d found a picture of some cowboy on a high school rodeo team in Wyoming and downloaded it to his computer. Then he’d e-mailed it to Kerri. She’d sent her own picture back and flirted with him online. They’d begun to chat on a regular basis.

  He’d forgotten all about ColoradoCowgirl.

  “Connor.”

  “What?” Startled, he turned to look over
his shoulder.

  “We need to talk, son.”

  Here it came.

  “Fine. But can we do it over a pizza? I’m hungry.”

  To his surprise, his dad smiled. “Yeah, I’ll call Piper’s and have ’em bring it. We can eat out here on the porch if you want.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Out of the corner of his eye, Connor spotted Kevin heading his way on his BMX bike. Maybe that would hold off his dad’s lecture, for a while anyway. “Better get a couple of large ones, Dad. Here comes Kevin.”

  “Pepperoni?”

  “And pineapple.”

  “All right.” His dad paused with one hand on the sliding door. “We’re still going to talk. Later.”

  “Yeah.” Connor sighed. “I figured as much.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KARA HAD AN ENJOYABLE EVENING out at the Silver Spur, line dancing and drinking a couple of beers, but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed when Derrick failed to show. Considering the difficult time he’d had with Connor earlier, it shouldn’t surprise her that he’d chosen to spend time with his son. They’d probably gone to the movies.

  Still, every time a new group of people came through the front door, Kara caught herself looking over her shoulder.

  “Looking for a certain cowboy?” Danita teased, speaking near her ear to be heard over the country-rock band.

  “What if I am?” Kara smirked.

  “Hey, you’re the one who keeps nagging me about Shawn.”

  “You should’ve brought him with you tonight.”

  Danita wagged a finger at her. “Don’t change the subject. We’re talking about you and Derrick.” Suddenly, Danita saw something over Kara’s shoulder. “Oh, my gosh. Look who just walked in.”

  Kara quickly turned, fully expecting to see Derrick. Or maybe Shawn Rutherford. To her shock, Liz walked hesitantly into the room, her eyes scanning the crowd. She wore white jeans, cowboy boots and a sage-green western shirt.

  “What is Liz doing here?” Hannah asked.

  “I can’t imagine.” Kara rose and worked her way through the crowd.

 

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