by Lisa Jackson
“I’ve spoken with Ross Anderson,” Tessa said, remembering her telephone conversation with the young lawyer. “He hasn’t heard a word.”
“It’s not like Denver,” Van Stern remarked.
Tessa knew she was grasping at straws, that the possibility that Denver had heard from Colton was remote, but nothing else made any sense. She asked, “Could he have left because of his brother? He said he wanted to stay in L.A. until he heard from Colton.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. I don’t think they’ve seen each other in years. Ever since that fire.”
“Right,” Tessa said, sick with worry. She stared out the kitchen window and wondered where Denver was. Why hadn’t he called again? “If he phones you, please ask him to call me.”
“Will do,” Van Stern said before hanging up.
Tessa leaned against the wall. Her stomach rumbled. Her head was pounding, she ached all over. She hadn’t slept well. She’d only dozed, and her dreams, when she had drifted off, had been filled with Denver. They’d been lying on the sand, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, the water lapping at her skirt, and he’d kissed her, long and hard, only stopping to vow that he loved her—
“Tessa?” a female voice called, accompanied by pounding on the front door.
“Coming!” Tessa hurried down the hall, swung open the door and found Cassie Aldridge standing on the front porch.
“Hi. Mitch called Craig yesterday.”
“He did?” Tessa said before remembering.
Cassie nodded. “He had a couple of calves he wanted me to check out.”
“Oh, right. They’re in the barn. I’ll come with you.”
“I can find my way,” Cassie offered with a smile. “Isn’t that where I examined Brigadier?”
“Yes.”
Cassie’s black hair gleamed in the afternoon sun. “I was at the Edwards ranch the other day,” she said as they walked toward the barn. “Brigadier’s as good as new.”
Tessa’s heart turned over. “Ornery as ever?”
Cassie laughed. “He tried to take a bite out of my back side. Fortunately, I’m quick.”
Chuckling, Tessa opened the door and snapped on the lights. The two calves were still in the stall, but they were both on their feet. At the sight of Tessa, they began to bawl.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Cassie opened the gate and caught the first calf. He tried to struggle free. The heifer, too, backed away. “They look good to me,” Cassie said, examining first one calf, then the other. Both animals tried to escape, running into each other and nearly knocking Cassie down. “Mitch said he thought they’d eaten pine needles.”
“No one said they were Rhodes scholars,” Tessa replied, and Cassie smiled—a wide feminine smile.
“Well I don’t see any reason to keep them penned up any longer.”
“Good.”
Together, they herded the rambunctious calves outside. The ruddy heifer and steer took off, tails switching, galloping through the dry field toward the rest of the herd.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Tessa said as she walked Cassie back to her truck.
“No problem. I’ll send you a bill.” Cassie’s hazel eyes gleamed and her mouth curved into a feminine smile. She climbed into the cab and leaned out the window. “Is Denver around?”
Tessa rammed her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans. “I don’t know where he is,” she admitted, wondering at the ease with which she confided in a woman she barely knew. “He was in California, but he left.”
Jamming her key into the ignition, Cassie asked, “Has he heard anything from Colton?”
“Not a word,” Tessa said.
“I guess that’s not a big surprise.” Cassie slid a pair of sunglasses onto her nose. Her mouth twisted wryly. “I don’t think there’s enough adventure or danger in this world to keep Colton McLean satisfied.”
“Probably not,” Tessa agreed, her thoughts with Denver, wherever he was.
“I’ll see you around. Let me know if those calves relapse.” Cassie stepped on the throttle and waved as she drove away. Tessa watched the white truck ramble down the drive and wished she had some inkling about Denver. Where was he? Frowning, she walked back to the house.
* * *
Get up! she told herself nearly a week later, but couldn’t find the energy. She hadn’t heard a word from Denver. Not one lousy word! “A lot he cares,” she grumbled as she tossed off the sheets, then gasped when she felt the overpowering urge to vomit. She barely made it to the bathroom where she retched for a full ten minutes.
Sweat collected over her brow and the sensation slowly passed. She cleaned her mouth with water, then leaned against the sink. She’d suspected for two weeks she might be pregnant, this morning nearly confirmed it. She smiled wanly at her white-faced reflection in the mirror. Maybe she and Denver would never be together, but at least, God willing, she would have his baby.
Her heart bled at the thought of Denver. He hadn’t wanted a child. Hadn’t he asked her if she were protected on the first night they made love? Since then, he’d forgotten about birth control, but she knew in her heart he wouldn’t want this baby. Nor did he want her.
Why else would he avoid her?
If Denver had wanted her, he would have called. If he had intended to sell the ranch, he would have returned to Montana to meet with the bank. And if he had loved her, he never would have left. Aching inside, she glanced at her reflection. Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles and her skin had paled. She looked every bit as miserable as she felt.
“Idiot,” she accused, yanking the brush through her hair until the golden-red strands crackled. How could she have been such a fool—and for the second time? She tossed her brush onto the bureau, changed into clean jeans and a T-shirt and muttered, “Some people never learn.”
By the time Milly arrived a half hour later, Tessa had convinced herself that Denver had conned her. Though part of her wanted desperately to trust him, the reasonable side of her nature wouldn’t let her fall for his lies all over again.
“Trouble?” Milly asked as she entered through the back porch.
Tessa felt like a fool. She poured herself a glass of orange juice. “A little,” she admitted grudgingly.
“Let me guess. This has to do with Denver, doesn’t it?”
Tessa nodded. “You could say that. He had no intention of selling this place to me.”
Milly’s eyebrows raised a fraction. “And just how have you figured this out?” She tucked her purse in the pantry, hung up her jacket and whipped on an apron. “Didn’t he try to call you?”
“Yes, but who knows why?” Tessa asked.
“At least give him the chance to explain.”
“I will—if I ever hear from him again.” She drank one sip of juice and her stomach revolted. Carefully, she set her cup on the counter.
“Oh, bah!” Milly started chopping onions. “Say what you want, that man loves you. Any fool could see it when he was here.”
“That’s just the point. He’s not here anymore, is he?”
“He’ll be back.”
“When?”
“Hasn’t anyone told you patience is a virtue?”
“Over and over again,” Tessa mumbled, unconvinced that Milly knew what she was talking about. “As soon as I’m finished around here, I’m going over to the Edwards ranch. If Denver calls—” Mentally kicking herself, she snapped her mouth shut. Denver wouldn’t call. Nor would he return. He was gone again. Tears threatened her eyes and clogged her throat.
“I’ll give him the number,” Milly said, “right after I give him a piece of my mind!”
“I thought you were just singing his praises, telling me to be patient.”
Milly’s eyes glimmered. “Haven’t you ever heard the old expression, ‘Do as I say, not as I do’?”
“Too many times to count. But I always thought it was a crock,” Tessa said, forcing a wan smile despite the stone-cold feeling that she’d lost Denver forever.
She went through the motions of doing the chores, but her mind was on Denver. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called? If he loved her, and that was looking like a bigger “if” as each second passed, why had he left her? “It’s over—face it!” she told herself, feeling positively wretched as she tossed hay into the manger. And now you might be pregnant. What will you do? How will you tell him? “I won’t,” she said aloud. She couldn’t. Denver would twist things around, think she’d tried to trap him into a marriage he didn’t want.
It hit her then with the force of a northern gale. Denver had used her, hurt her intentionally, lied to her. And he was probably now enjoying the fact—he’d gotten back at the family that had ruined his.
Dropping onto a bale of hay and drawing her knees to her chest, she let the tears that had been building for weeks fill her eyes. “No,” she whispered, denying even now what was so evident.
Trust him. Give him time, one part of her argued.
Why? So he can drag out your heart and stomp all over it again? another part screamed.
Dropping her head to her arms, she cried from the depths of her soul. Deep racking sobs convulsed her small frame, and she sat rocking alone in the dark barn, the musty smell of hay mingling with the moist, fresh scent of her tears. Desperation ripped through her heart, and all her faith in love died as quickly as the flame of a candle in the rain. “Never again,” she whispered, the words strangled, her voice raw with pain. “Never again.”
“Tess? Is that you?” her brother called as the barn door creaked open.
Not now, she thought wildly. I can’t let him see me like this—not again!
“I—I’m just leaving,” she said, wiping her eyes and ignoring her quivering insides.
“Where’re you go—” Mitchell rounded the corner, took one look at Tessa and groaned. “Oh, no, Tess. Don’t tell me—”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I, uh, just decided you were right about Denver.” Refusing to meet the pity in his eyes, she swept past him. “But it’s okay,” she lied, “I’m going to straighten things out right now.”
“How?”
I don’t know! “I—I’m going to start with Nate Edwards,” she said, then, before he could ask any more questions, she raced out of the barn, climbed into the pickup and shoved the old rig into gear. The truck lumbered out of the drive, lurching through potholes, kicking up dust and roaring loudly because of a hole in the muffler. Tessa didn’t mind. Setting her jaw, she slid a pair of sunglasses on her nose and decided just how she was going to get her life back on track—without Denver McLean!
She drove to the Edwards ranch as if her life depended upon it. Knowing that Denver had left her as he had before—without a word or explanation—clarified things. The fact that he had called once didn’t change things. He’d stripped her of her most precious possessions, then abandoned her. Well, she wasn’t going to lie down and die! And maybe she’d get back at him. She’d never tell him about the baby—if, indeed, she was pregnant.
She coasted to a stop at the yard, then pulled hard on the emergency brake.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of Brigadier, prancing proudly in one small paddock, his ears pricked forward, his tail raised like a banner as he stared over the top rail of a whitewashed fence to a pasture of mares grazing nearby. He nickered softly, intent on the small herd, and ignored Tessa’s repeated attempts to get his attention.
“Traitor,” she murmured, dusting her hands as she approached the huge white house.
Nate answered the door in his stocking feet. “Tessa! Good to see you,” he exclaimed. “You just missed Paula and Sherrie—they’re in town doing the grocery shopping.”
“That’s okay,” she said, though she would have liked to have a heart-to-heart with Paula and had hoped to give Sherrie the riding lesson she’d promised. “Actually, I came to see you.”
“Me?” he asked, smiling. “I’m flattered. Come on in.” He led her into the kitchen where the smell of coffee lingered in the air. “What can I do for you?” he asked as he motioned her onto a bar stool and held up the coffeepot. “How about a cup?”
“I’d love one.”
She accepted a brimming mug. The coffee was strong and black and hot. It warmed her throat but couldn’t take away the frigid cold that had settled so deep in her soul.
“What’s on your mind?” Nate climbed onto the stool next to hers.
“Business, I’m afraid. I came over to offer to buy back my horses. I was hoping you’d sell Brigadier and Ebony back to me. I’d like Red Wing, too, but since she’s Sherrie’s horse . . .”
“You want the horses back?” Nate scowled as he took a long swallow of coffee.
“Yes. But I’m willing to pay you more than you paid me—for all your trouble.”
“I just can’t help you, Tessa,” he said, confused.
She had expected to haggle. Nate was a businessman. Leaning closer to him, she said, “This is very important to me.”
“I know.”
“Name your price.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
His eyebrows drew together over his eyes and his mouth turned down at the corners. “I already sold the horses, Tessa. I thought you knew about it.”
Tessa’s heart fell so far she was sure it would hit the floor. “You didn’t,” she whispered, feeling betrayed. She had no reason to feel Nate had deceived her. She’d sold him Brigadier and Ebony with no strings attached. And yet ... “I—I just saw Brigadier out in the paddock.”
“I’m keeping him and the mares until the trailer comes. Sometime today.”
Sick inside, her world spinning, Tessa had to set her cup on the counter. It took all of her concentration to stay upright on the stool. “Wait a minute,” she whispered. “You thought I’d know about the sale? How?”
“I sold the horses through Ross Anderson.”
“Denver’s attorney?”
Nate met her eyes. “Right. Denver bought the horses from me, Tessa. Even Red Wing. He paid top dollar, too. I made fifteen thousand on the deal, and he promised to sell me another horse for Sherrie.”
Tessa grabbed the edge of the counter. She could barely breathe. “You spoke to Denver?” she whispered, her thoughts jumbled and confused.
“No—just Anderson. But believe me, Denver wanted your horses. I had no intention of letting them go, but I’m not fool enough to turn down a quick fifteen grand.”
“Of course not,” Tessa replied, blinking.
“Look, Tessa, I’m sorry—”
She waved off his apology. “I guess I’ll just have to talk to Denver,” she said, forcing a calm edge to her voice, though her mind was burning with accusations, her insides tied in knots of betrayal.
“He’s not around.”
“Don’t worry,” she vowed, as much to herself as to Nate. “I’ll find him.” If I have to chase him to the ends of the earth. I’ll find him, demand answers and then nail his handsome, lying hide to the wall!
Chapter Thirteen
Furious, though her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces, Tessa drove back to the McLean Ranch. She stomped on the throttle, dying to tell Denver just what she thought of his crooked, underhanded dealings. How could she have been so stupid as to trust him again?
Not only had he reneged on the ranch deal, but he’d stripped her of her horses, her means of support—the animals so dear to her heart. Her fingers clenched around the wheel, knuckles showing white. Brigadier meant nothing to Denver except as a source of profit for the ranch.
“Black-hearted, vengeful son of a—” Downshifting, she wheeled the old truck into the lane. The pickup bounced and jarred. Tessa barely noticed. If she ever saw Denver again, she’d personally wring his neck!
And then what! Denver had all the cards. He owned the ranch, owned the horses, owned her own foolish heart. She had nothing, nothing, to fight him with. She’d lost everythi
ng, she realized as she drove past the acres of summer-dry ranch land—McLean Ranch land. Except, perhaps, the baby. And if she stayed here, let Denver know he might become a father, there was a chance, just for the sake of vengeance, he’d want the baby, too.
Tears drizzled down her cheeks. She couldn’t stay here a minute longer. Without Denver, without the horses, she had no reason to stay at all.
Her gaze swept the surrounding hills, foothills she’d seen every day of her life. Mountains she’d naively believed would someday be hers. Pain welled from deep inside. She ached to belong, to be a part of this land, to be a part of Denver’s life.
She blinked hard against the horrid tears. Even this damned beat-up old truck, she realized angrily as she cranked on the emergency brake, belonged to Denver. “He can have it,” she murmured, hoping to sound strong though she was dying inside. Wiping her face, willing the red blotches to disappear, she jumped out of the cab and strode across the yard to the house—Denver’s house.
“Something wrong?” Milly, elbow-deep in flour, asked. She was kneading bread at the counter, while Curtis, smoking and sipping coffee, sat in a chair at the table, a newspaper spread in front of him.
“Something? Try everything,” Tessa said, pride lifting her chin, though her throat was still swollen. Her father stubbed out his cigarette. “Everything?”
She braced herself for another lecture. “Everything. You were right, Dad. About Denver. About this ranch. About me. This place belongs to the McLeans. Always has, always will!” Tessa met her father’s worried gaze and fought the overwhelming urge to break down and cry all over again. “It’s over, Dad.” Stripped bare, her very soul raw and aching, she whispered, “Just like you knew it would be. I don’t belong here.”
“Hey, slow down,” her father said. “Start at the beginning. Of course you belong here. More than anyone. You run this place.”
“That’s right,” Milly agreed, wiping the flour from her hands on the hem of her apron.
“Not anymore.”
She was shaking all over, and she had to battle a fresh flood of tears. “I’m leaving, Dad,” she said, half apologizing. “I thought I could hold this place together—make something of it. But I was wrong.”