by Lisa Jackson
For most of the drive, they didn’t speak. The late afternoon sun descended slowly behind the rocky peaks to the west, streaking the sky in a blaze of pink and gold.
Tessa closed her eyes. She pushed her worries aside and leaned back in the seat, letting the heat of the day settle around her as Denver drove steadily north. Dusk had just shaded the sky when they passed her father’s cottage and the lane to the McLean Ranch came into view.
“Almost home,” Tessa murmured.
“Not yet.” Denver said quietly. He stepped on the throttle, passing the lane.
“What’re you doing?” Tessa asked, surprised.
He smiled crookedly. “I thought we deserved a detour.” A quarter of a mile past the lane, he cranked hard on the wheel. The car responded, lurching onto the old silver mining road. Barely more than twin ruts in the bleached grass, the tracks curved, snaking along the banks of the Sage River and the Aldridge property before climbing the gentle slope of the surrounding foothills.
“Where’re we going?” Tessa asked, though she had already guessed. This road led not only to the abandoned mine, but to the ridge where she and Denver had first made love. Nervously she reached for the handle of the car door, wrapping her fingers around the armrest.
The little car bumped and spun, leaving a cloud of dust. Denver had to flip on the lights as shadows lengthened stealthily through the trees. “I just wanted to see this place again.”
“Nothing’s changed,” she said, her stomach knotting, her palms beginning to sweat. She’d been up to the ridge more times than she wanted to count, remembering how wonderful that afternoon had been before the smell of smoke and the crackle of flames had clouded the clear air and altered the course of their lives forever.
The road gave way to a clearing, and he parked, switching off the lights. Only the moon and stars illuminated the night, turning the dry grass opalescent. Two small shacks, sagging now from disuse, were the last reminders of the silver that had existed only in John McLean’s dreams.
Denver climbed out of the car and stretched, rubbing his shoulder muscles.
Tessa joined him. “What is it they say about never going back?” she asked, hoping to sound lighthearted though her heart continued to beat unevenly.
“If they’re talking about L.A., they’re wrong.” He strode swiftly through the stubble, ignoring the rambling blackberry vines and weeds clutching at his pants. He made his way up a short path to the ridge.
She scrambled after him. “I was talking about coming back here.” A bramble pulled at her skirt, a branch tugged at her hair, but she closed the distance, catching Denver just at the edge of the cliff.
Majestic pines towered high overhead, their long needled branches soughing in the soft summer breeze. And the valley floor, in contrast to the dark trees, shifted restlessly under the moonlight. Cattle dotted the landscape, dark lumbering shapes against the moonlit grass. Its windows glowing with square patches of light, the main house was visible, as was the winding Sage River, a moon-washed ribbon reflecting a wide canopy of twinkling stars. Far in the distance, the lights of her father’s house shone gold in an otherwise silvery night.
“How can you leave this place?” she wondered aloud.
He stared down at her. “It’s not the land I’m leaving,” he said quietly. “Nor the work. Leaving the ranching life behind is easy.” His fingers were gentle on her arms. “What’s hard is leaving you.”
Tessa’s breath expelled in a rush. She could barely believe her ears. And she wouldn’t. Words were easy. Too easy. She’d heard them before. “You don’t have to leave.”
“What I don’t have to do is repeat a conversation we had a long time ago.”
Her heart squeezed wretchedly at the memories of their arguments, long dead. Now, as before, nothing she could say would stop him. He was willing to sell her this part of his past, the dust, the trees, the stream and buildings, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, give her the one thing she wanted most—his love.
Angry with herself for loving him when he didn’t care, she turned, unable to face him. She stared across the valley floor. But he placed one finger under her chin and pushed it upward, forcing her gaze to meet his. Her pulse trembled in her throat, and before she could say a word, he lowered his head and kissed her. Long and hard and hot, the kiss touched the very deepest part of her soul. His tongue slid familiarly past her teeth, his hands unwound her braid.
Her hair tumbled free in a twisted cloud that fell past her shoulders.
She knew in her heart that she should stop him, but the night and her senses were against her. She couldn’t pull away from him any more than she could stop breathing—or still the wretched pounding beat of her heart.
Just once more, her mind screamed, drowning all her doubts. Just love me once more.
As his weight pulled her downward, onto that very patch of ground where they’d made love so long ago, she didn’t protest, but fell willingly, accepting his passion for what it was and meeting that delicious desire with her own driving needs.
For as long as he stayed, she would be with him. And she would cherish each moment even as she knew that as surely as the sun would come up in the morning, Denver would leave.
Chapter Ten
“I saw it happen,” Mitchell said, as he and Tessa examined Brigadier in his stall the next day. The stallion’s head hung low and he favored his right front leg. “He picked up a loose piece of gravel in the yard.”
Tessa’s brows drew into a worried frown. “Poor baby. Let’s take a look.” Tessa lifted the hoof, then moved quickly when Brigadier tried to nip her. “Hey, watch it!”
“I’ll hold his head,” Mitchell offered, stroking Brigadier’s sleek neck. “I hope he doesn’t turn up lame. That could spoil your deal with Nate Edwards.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tessa said sharply, her fingers running expertly along the edge of the stallion’s tender hoof. Brigadier rolled his eyes and his ears flattened as she worked. “Looks like a bruised sole,” she thought aloud. Brigadier snorted and jerked hard on the lead rope. “Find the toolbox and help me get this shoe off.”
Together they removed the shoe and Tessa pared out the bruised area of the inner hoof. “I’ll pack it with a poultice, but we’d better call Craig Fulton and have him take a look at it,” Tessa said quickly.
Craig was a young veterinarian who lived on a ranch nearby. He operated a clinic for large animals and house pets that was located on the outskirts of Three Falls.
“I’ll call him,” Mitchell offered.
“Good. I’ll finish here.”
Mitchell left the barn to phone the vet while Tessa cleaned the bruised area of Brigadier’s hoof then packed it with a poultice. Once assured that the stallion was comfortable, she rubbed his jagged white blaze and handed him a piece of apple. The fruit was whisked out of her open palm before she had time to blink.
“Thank goodness you still have your appetite,” she said, patting his soft muzzle before closing the gate to his stall behind her.
The barn door squeaked open and Tessa, expecting Mitchell, glanced over her shoulder. Denver! She’d left him less than an hour ago in the study, but her heart tripped at the sight of him.
Tall and masculine, he winked at her. “I thought I’d find you here.”
Her pulse leaped.
Dressed in a gray sport coat, black slacks and a crisp white shirt, he was dashing and handsome and, unfortunately, looked as if he belonged in a high-rise office building in some huge city.
She, on the other hand, was wearing dusty jeans and a checked blouse. Not exactly haute couture.
“Brigadier’s favoring his right foreleg. I think it’s a bruised sole,” she explained.
“I know. Mitch was on the phone in the kitchen.”
“Eavesdropping?” she teased.
“About horse ailments? Hardly. I’m on my way back to Helena. Jim Van Stern called. He has some legal papers he wants Ross to draw up.” He reached her and wrapped his arms
comfortably around her waist. “I thought you’d like to join me.” He flashed her a devilish grin and his blue eyes danced irreverently.
“I’d love to,” she admitted. She wanted to be with him every minute of every day.
“Then do it,” he whispered into her ear. “Just this once, indulge yourself. We could spend the night, order room service for dinner and never leave the hotel again.”
“Now who’s the dreamer?” she quipped, though she tingled inside.
He kissed her neck, his lips warm and inviting. “Come on, Tess.”
More than anything she wanted to go with him. “You know I can’t, not with Brigadier lame.”
“The vet will take care of him.”
She shook her head and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “How about a rain check?”
One side of Denver’s mouth lifted engagingly. “You’ve got it. How about tomorrow night?”
“You’re willing to drive all the way to Helena again?”
His blue eyes twinkled. “For a night alone with you? You bet.”
“We’re alone here at night.”
“It’s not the same. Any minute I expect your dad or brother or Milly to show up and interrupt us.” His lips pressed against her forehead. “I’d like to be alone with you where no one could find us for days.”
A shiver of anticipation swept up her spine. “Sounds wonderful,” she whispered. Denver lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips. Responding, Tessa wound her arms around his neck just as Brigadier stuck his head over the stall gate and shoved her.
She lost her footing and fell heavily against Denver, who laughed in surprise.
“Someone’s jealous,” Denver observed. “Be careful, my friend,” he said to the stallion, “this one’s mine.”
Brigadier tossed his great head, and Tessa felt a lump fill her throat. She rubbed the stallion’s nose fondly. “I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice low.
“Then the sale is final?”
She nodded. “Nate plans to pick up Brigadier and the mares tomorrow.”
As if understanding the conversation, Brigadier whinnied plaintively.
Denver’s arms tightened around Tessa’s waist. “You don’t have to sell him, you know.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She tried to extract herself, but Denver wouldn’t let go.
“I know how fond you are of your horses.”
“They’re like family,” she admitted.
“That’s why you should keep them.”
“Is this a way of getting out of selling the ranch to me?”
“I didn’t say that. But maybe we could come up with some other way of financing the sale.”
“I don’t see how.”
“I could waive the down payment—in effect loan the money to you without interest.”
“And how would Colton feel about that?”
Denver’s jaw hardened. “I’ll deal with Colton, if I ever see him again.”
Tessa considered her alternatives. Leaning against the power of Denver’s chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart, feeling his breath stir her hair, she was just about willing to do anything he suggested. Except become beholden to him. “I don’t think I should borrow money from you,” she said softly. “People might get the wrong idea.”
She felt him stiffen, saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “You mean the way some people might have gotten the wrong idea about you and John.”
Her emotions, already strung tight, snapped. Tessa scrambled out of his arms. “That was different and you know it!”
“How?”
“I wasn’t sleeping with John!” Bristling with injustice, she gave her hot temper free rein. “I thought we settled this.”
“We have,” he said tightly. “I just don’t understand why you can work a deal with John and not with me.”
“Because you and I—we’re . . . involved.”
“All the more reason to help each other.”
“Not like this,” she said. “I can’t accept gifts from you, Denver, or loans without collateral.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t you know?” she asked in wonder. “Don’t you realize that I don’t want to be obligated to you—that I wouldn’t want you obligated to me? You’re the one who doesn’t want any strings attached in this relationship. You’re the one hell-bent to run back to L.A.”
“I thought you were coming with me,” he said slowly.
“That would only make it worse! I can’t borrow money from you and then follow you like some moon-eyed calf to California! I no more belong on Rodeo Drive than—”
“I do in a hick town the size of Three Falls, Montana,” he cut in, the edge in his voice sharp.
“You were born and raised here!”
“An accident of my birth.”
She sucked in a swift, disbelieving breath. “Do you hate it here so much?”
He bit back the urge to say Yes! I hate this goddamned ranch and all the memories it brings—memories of pain and suffering and thick yellow smoke and flames. Instead he sealed his mouth shut. He didn’t hate this valley or this ranch. His aversion to it was long over. But it wasn’t the land that beckoned him. It was Tessa.
“I’ve got to leave,” he said quietly, his face a mask. “You coming?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I’d better stay. The vet’s probably already on his way.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and walked quickly down the concrete corridor between the rows of stalls. Nearly colliding with Mitch in the doorway, he muttered a curse under his breath without breaking stride.
Mitch stared after him. “What was that all about?”
“Don’t ask me.”
Mitch frowned. “I am asking you. And you’d better tell me what’s going on between the two of you.”
“Nothing, Mitch.”
“Sure.”
“I told you—it’s just business.”
Mitch scowled, raking stiff fingers through his hair. “Okay, you win, Tess. Play it close to the vest. If you want Denver McLean, there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind.” His mouth compressed into a crooked smile. “I just hope he’ll make you happy.”
“I am happy,” she said, turning back to Brigadier and changing the subject. “Did you call the vet?”
Mitch nodded. “Craig’s busy. But his assistant’s on her way.”
“Her way?”
A slow grin spread across Mitchell’s stubbled jaw. “That’s right. Cassie Aldridge. Remember her?”
“How could I forget?” Tessa smiled faintly. Cassie was a couple of years younger than Tessa, and rumor had it, seven years before, that young Cassie had thrown herself at Colton McLean, making a fool of herself over Denver’s headstrong younger brother much the way Tessa had made a fool of herself over Denver.
“Good thing Colton isn’t back yet,” Mitch remarked.
“It’s been a long time,” Tessa said. “Cassie’s probably changed a lot.”
“Well, she isn’t married yet—or if she is, she hasn’t changed her name.”
Tessa turned back to Brigadier and scratched him fondly under the forelock. “It doesn’t matter if she’s married or not. Let’s just hope she can take care of our boy here.”
An hour later, Tessa realized that Cassie Aldridge had changed a lot in the past seven years. No longer a teenager with a wild crush on one of the McLean brothers, she was a full-grown woman with shiny black hair and intelligent gray eyes. Thin and athletic, she handled Brigadier expertly as she examined his hoof.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” she announced, once she’d closed the stall gate behind her. “The poultice should work. Just make sure he rests for a week and keep the hoof clean.”
Relieved, Tessa walked with Cassie out of the stallion barn. Outside, the sky was hazy. Low clouds hung over the ridge surrounding the valley floor. The air was still and hot.
“Brigadier’s a good-looking stallion,” Cassie said. She
opened the door of her beat-up truck but paused before climbing into the sunbaked cab.
“The best. But you should know that. I bought him from your father.”
“That’s right,” Cassie replied, her smooth forehead creasing a little. “Call me if Brigadier gets any worse—or better. I like to know the good news with the bad.”
“Will do,” Tessa promised.
Cassie hopped into the cab of her dusty old Dodge truck, ground the gears and took off.
The next day Tessa opened the door of the barn and was greeted with an excited whinny. Brigadier pawed the straw on the floor of his stall. His eyes were clear, his ears pricked and he barely favored the sore leg.
“A medical wonder, aren’t you?” Tessa teased, scratching his ears fondly before giving him a carrot, which he ground noisily between his teeth.
Relieved, she brushed his rust-colored coat until it gleamed like polished copper. While she ran the currycomb across his hide, her thoughts drifted, as always, to Denver. Ever since he left the day before, she’d replayed their argument over and over in her mind. The fight had been silly and pointless, as arguments usually were. Still she was angry with him.
“He looks better,” Mitchell said from somewhere behind her head.
Tessa nearly jumped out of her skin. “You scared me,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“Didn’t you hear me come in?”
She shook her head. “I . . . was thinking.”
Mitchell poured oats into the manger, then walked outside with his sister. “Let me guess, you were thinking about Denver McLean.” His green eyes were shadowed with worry, and deep grooves tightened the corners of his mouth. But he held his tongue and Tessa was grateful for that. She’d done enough soul-searching without having to be reprimanded by her brother. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and rinsed her hands in the cold water from a spigot near the barn. “I’m gonna run into town for some more wire for the fence bordering the Aldridge property. Want to come along?” he asked.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”