by BJ Wane
“I got tied up chatting before closing the tea shop.” Nan looked at Caden and Connor, adding, “Tamara Barton has returned to town and we were catching up.”
An unexpected jolt went through Connor at hearing Tam’s name again. Other than the few words she allowed him at her father’s funeral last year, he hadn’t seen much of the heir of the neighboring ranch in the last five years, having only caught a glimpse of her from afar the times she’d returned for a visit. He still harbored a fringe of guilt from their last encounter. Frowning, he asked Nan, “Last I heard, she was getting married. Are the two of them planning on settling at the Barton ranch?” An uncomfortable tightness filled his chest at the thought.
Nan shrugged. “She refused to say anything about her engagement or fiancé, only that she planned to stay for now. She mentioned needing to address some personal issues and see to the ranch.”
“You mean there’s someone in Willow Springs I haven’t met yet?” Sydney wanted to know.
“I’ll introduce you when she has time,” Nan offered. “I’ve known Tamara since grade school. We were close even though she was a year behind me. You and Avery will like her.”
Connor didn’t doubt that. The girl he remembered, despite the regrettable circumstances of the last time they’d spoken, was a sweet-natured dare-devil he used to enjoy watching from across the fields as she rode her powerful, sleek Arabian stallion with fearless abandon. Tam had just finished earning a master’s degree and had returned home for a visit before taking a job in Boise when they’d last spoken. He still winced whenever the image of her pale, stricken face popped into his head unbidden, the hurt in her smoky eyes cutting him to the quick. Telling himself her impetuousness had left him with no choice but to go off on her hadn’t eased his conscience then and still didn’t now.
“Her foreman’s been running the ranch since her father’s death and seems to be doing a good job. Jason was the one who got a close enough look he could pass on a vague description of one of our rustlers after he spotted them hightailing it off his land a few weeks ago. He was smart enough not to go chasing after them,” Caden reminded Connor.
“Yeah, yeah.” Sliding off the stool, he tipped his hat. “I think I’ve heard enough about that. I’m out of here.”
“Drive safe,” Sydney said, giving him a quick hug.
“Yes, Mom,” he drawled, tugging on her hair before turning his back on their chuckles. Good-natured teasing aside, he’d gown tired of the molly-coddling, concerned glances and lectures. The sooner he got his strength back and resumed his regular duties around the ranch, the better all around.
Connor returned to his sprawling ranch home situated five miles from Caden’s house, an itchiness having settled between his shoulder blades he couldn’t seem to scratch. He usually left the club satisfied and ready to turn in, but as he padded into his bedroom and stripped, he couldn’t shove aside the mention of their neighbor’s return and the regret hearing Tam’s name always stirred up. He fell face first into bed wishing they could go back to being friends who shared a special bond instead of the angry, hurt adversaries they’d ended up as when she’d left town. He hadn’t let himself think about their last encounter and the harsh words he’d spoken to her in a long time, but as he fell asleep, the memory of that morning slid past his guard to disturb his dreams again.
“Christ, sweetie, you’re so fucking wet and hot as a firecracker,” Connor panted, tightening his hands on Darby’s hips as he pounded into her. It was rare for him to invite a sub from the club home with him, but something had driven him to issue an invitation to Darby after he’d finished a scene with her at The Barn. She was one of the members who only visited their private BDSM venue a few times a year, but when she did, she was primed and ready to indulge whoever was lucky enough to get her attention. Last night it had been him.
The rustle of the hay bale he had her bent over and their harsh breathing were the only sounds in his small stable. The early morning sun streaking through the open doors behind him splashed a swath of yellow light across their sweat-slick bodies. Her bound hands clenched into fists above her pink buttocks as he ground into her quivering pussy from behind, her small mewls of pleasure accompanying the spasms rippling along his cock.
“Sir, please… I need to come,” she pled before burying small white teeth into her lower lip.
“Now, Darby.” Connor damn near saw stars as she convulsed around his pistoning shaft and soaked him with her climax. By the time the overhead beams came back into focus, he was pulling from her clutching grips. “Hold on, sweetie,” he instructed the still panting woman who lay with her cheek pressed against the hay, her eyes closed as she shuddered with lingering pleasure.
He disposed of the condom in a trashcan, adjusted his jeans and helped her stand. When he had awoken that morning, he’d slipped out of bed, hoping she would just take off while he was feeding the horses, but she had both irritated and surprised him when she’d walked into the stable naked, the look on her face revealing her desire for one more fuck before she left. Unable to resist such a tempting package, he’d shoved aside the annoyance at her delayed departure and gave her what she wanted. He hated disappointing subs.
Removing the leather tie around her wrists, he turned her in his arms, noting the redness covering her breasts and belly from the way his powerful thrusts had pushed her torso back and forth on the scratchy straw. The sated look in her eyes and contented sigh as he traced a finger over the marred skin drew his slow smile and mellowed his initial pique from her lingering presence.
“Thank you, Master Connor.” Reaching behind his head, she drew his mouth to hers and initiated a kiss of gratitude he finished with a hard possession of her lips and mouth.
“You’re welcome.” Swatting her ass, he ordered in a light tone, “Now scram. I have things to do.”
Scampering toward the doors with a giggle and small finger wave, Darby stopped short and uttered a soft, “Oh,” that sent Connor’s gaze flying to the doorway.
Shock held him immobile and mute for several seconds as he stared in disbelief at young Tam, the neighbor girl he possessed a special fondness for, peeking around the corner, her eyes wide with disbelief and interest, her face glowing bright red from embarrassment. Fury unlike anything he’d experienced before spread through him like a tsunami, dousing what lingering pleasure he still felt from his and Darby’s morning coupling.
“Uh, I’ll just get going,” Darby mumbled, sidling past Tam and dashing up to the house as Connor ate up the distance between him and the wide-eyed intruder.
Grasping her arm, he demanded in a furious voice, still shaken by what she’d witnessed, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I… I’m sorry. I… was just… I came by to see… Gee, Con, I guess the rumors are true…”
A hint of lust entered her eyes, a look that shook him and added to his unaccustomed anger. “You have no business dropping in on me, Tamara, and sure as hell shouldn’t be spying on a private tryst. When are you going to grow up?” Needing to wipe away the physical longing etched on her face, he yanked her over to her tethered horse and all but tossed her up into the saddle. “Damn it, girl, go home and quit being a fucking nuisance! I have better things to do than to constantly deal with your adolescent antics.”
Shock wiped away the desire he found so uncomfortable. She spun her horse around on a tortured sob, her tear-filled eyes and pale face cutting through his ire. “Ah, shit, what have I done?” Shaking his head at his uncharacteristic display of temper, he swore he’d track her down later and apologize, his off-the-charts reaction baffling him as much as he had hurt her.
Connor awoke, promising himself he’d look up Tam as soon as he got a chance. He’d been caught so unaware by her presence and the interest she’d shown, he hadn’t thought straight and didn’t mean what he’d said. She’d moved away within weeks of that incident, refusing to talk to him or see him before accepting a job in Boise, and had avoided all opportunities t
o be alone with him whenever she returned for a visit. He finally managed to corner her in front of others at Richard’s funeral, but she’d only paused for a moment, long enough for him to convey his condolences before walking away, leaving their previous parting unresolved. Now she was back, maybe for good, and the yearning to resume their friendship that had plagued him all this time tugged even harder at him.
Chapter 2
Leaning her forearms on the fence rail, Tamara Barton gazed across the field, enjoying the whiff of fresh air, the sound of lowing cattle and the sight of her grayish-white stallion prancing alongside her newest purchase, a pretty, dappled mare. Damn, she had missed viewing this serene vista every day, the wide-open spaces of her land, the peaceful quietness of country living as opposed to the hustle and bustle and constant noise of city life. She’d tried, God knows how hard she had tried to make a go of it in Boise, but the call of home wouldn’t release its hold on her and after careful contemplation, she decided to move back.
Her father’s unexpected death last year had left her shaken and added a new excuse for her to continue floundering in indecision over her future, but also gave her one more reason to return home. She would have thought the way her mother had abandoned her to a father and stepmother she’d never met before taking off with her current flavor of the month when Tamara had been ten-years-old would have rendered her hard-hearted enough to withstand the grief of losing a second parent. But it hadn’t, and she missed the gruff, much older man more than she could say. She never expected to lose him so soon. A smile kicked up the corners of her mouth as she recalled how happy both Richard and his wife, Amy had been to welcome her to the ranch.
And now it was hers, all ten thousand acres of Montana land with the picturesque view of snow-capped mountains surrounding fields and woods for as far as the eye could see. A pang clutched her chest as she thought of the cost of inheriting at the age of thirty. Tamara added not returning sooner at her father’s request to the list of regrets she had amassed since leaving her beloved home five years ago. Her struggle to forge a new life for herself and put a certain cowboy out of her mind ensured she remained away from the neighboring ranch whenever she’d returned for a visit, but it had been difficult keeping her distance. She had limited herself to spending time on the Barton spread with her father and Amy and making the trip into Willow Springs to visit friends when she knew Connor Dunbar would be working, but the desire to venture over there, just for a glimpse of him had been a constant pull.
When she’d spotted his tall form at the cemetery last year, a curl of resentment took up residence in her abdomen despite the pleasure seeing him always wrought. She’d wanted to blame him for the time she’d lost with her dad by moving away, just as she tried blaming him because she’d finally caved to Jeremy’s pursuit of her as soon as she returned to Boise after the funeral and for letting that relationship go further than was right considering her tepid feelings. But it wasn’t Connor’s fault his feelings didn’t run as deep or in the same direction as hers for him.
Another grip tightened her chest, this one forcing her to push off the rail and bring her fingers to her lips to let out a shrill whistle. With head and tail high, her Arabian, Galahad came trotting over with a soft whinny of welcome.
“You’re always glad to see me, aren’t you, pretty boy?” she crooned to the stallion before grabbing his mane and swinging up onto his back. Powerful muscles bunched under her thighs as he pranced in excited anticipation. Leaning over his neck, she brought her mouth near his twitching ear. “You and me, Galahad, just like always. Go!” With a nudge to his heaving sides, he bolted across the meadow.
The ground thundered beneath them as Tamara basked in the sense of freedom and the thrill of chasing the wind. This was a pleasure she couldn’t get living in the city, an escape that never failed to ease her worries and regrets. On the back of her beloved steed, she could forget the hurtful words hurled at her by the one person she couldn’t seem to get out of her system no matter how hard she tried or how far she ran. She’d been pining for Connor since her first summer in Montana and her ten-year-old heart had rolled over at her first glimpse of his startling blue eyes, and nothing had changed in the two decades since.
He wasn’t for her, he’d made that clear over the years, but she hadn’t listened until he’d shocked her with his uncharacteristic anger and cruel words. She was older now, wiser and hopefully hardened against the impact he’d always had on her. At least, that’s what she was counting on. Between her new job and the responsibilities of running the ranch, she would be busy enough that thoughts of her neighbor shouldn’t intrude on her life anymore.
By the time Tamara steered Galahad back toward the stable where Lady, his new companion was waiting in the attached corral, her muscles were aching, her cheeks chafed from the wind and her hair draped down her back in a tangled mess. Sliding off his back, she leaned against his warm bulk, feeling much better than when she’d ventured out from the house in a melancholy mood. Confident she could face the sad memories waiting for her inside and keep other unwanted thoughts at bay, she groomed Galahad, tossed each horse a scoop of their favorite pellets and left the barn.
“Hey, Tamara, hold up a sec, would you?” Jason, her foreman called out.
Halting halfway across the lawn and drive, she pivoted and walked toward her father’s right-hand man. A tall, lean man in his late fifties, he’d been hired by her dad several years before Richard’s health had taken a turn for the worse last year. She didn’t know Jason well, but from her scan of the books last night, the ranch appeared to be running smoothly and turning a profit, and she figured he had a lot to do with that.
“Isn’t Sunday your day off?” she asked as he smiled at her. His green eyes stood out against a tanned, craggy face any woman would find attractive. As with most men she thought appealing, she couldn’t seem to drum up anything more than a mild interest and appreciation for a friend. Besides, from what she’d noticed, he had eyes on her stepmother.
“It is, but I wanted to ride out to the north pasture to check on the new calves before taking off for Billings. I saw you coming in and thought I’d pass on that they look hale and hearty, should bring in high dollars in a few years. I noticed a few mature head ready to cut from the herd and sell but wanted to run that by you before I left so I can add them to the roster for later this week.”
“My dad trusted you to know what’s what, so I’ll go with whatever you think. If you’re good with continuing to run things as you have been, I’d appreciate it. I start work tomorrow and will be in Willow Springs at the clinic on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, which won’t leave me much time to stay on top of all the details of running the ranch.” Tamara wished she could have made working the ranch a priority; that would have pleased her dad. But the desire to get her money’s worth out of her master’s degree and work a few more years in her chosen field took precedence. She hadn’t expected to inherit the reins to the Barton spread so soon and figured it wasn’t going anywhere, so she would have time to become more involved in the day-to-day decisions later. “Is the new hand working out any better?” She’d met their most recent employee a few days ago and was reserving judgment as his air of insolence and laziness hadn’t left a very good first impression.
“You know I’m happy to stay on with you and am still undecided on Neil Anders. I’m hoping he’s just having trouble getting acclimated around here and isn’t as shiftless as he’s coming across.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Your dad was a good man, someone I respected and admired because he always gave people the benefit of the doubt. He’s missed around here.”
She nodded and spun around, blinking back tears. “Thanks, Jason.” With a backward wave, she trotted up to the house, relieved Amy was off visiting her sister in Bozeman for the weekend and wouldn’t return until late the next day. Although she adored her stepmother, Amy had been hovering since Tamara had returned and it was nice to have some breathing room and the day to h
erself to prepare for her new job. She intended to stay busy enough to keep one blue-eyed cowboy from intruding on her thoughts.
Stepping into the wide, tiled foyer of the rustic ranch home, nostalgia struck her again. Straight ahead, hanging above the stone fireplace, a picture of her father and Amy greeted anyone entering their house. At the age of forty-two, Richard had been a confirmed bachelor and had never tired of telling Tamara how he’d fallen head over heels in love with confirmed bachelorette Amy when they’d met at a New Year’s Eve party. Married a scant three months later, he often relayed with a beaming smile how much Tamara’s sudden, unexpected presence had disrupted their lives on their six-year anniversary in the most wonderful way, saying she was the best thing to come from his wild, single days.
She may have spent the first ten years of her life with a neglectful, self-centered mother, Tamara reflected, but the following nineteen years she’d had with her father had made up for it. With a sigh, she padded into the great room where Amy’s renovation of taking down the wall separating it from the kitchen was still a messy work in progress. As soon as Tamara settled in, she hoped to have plans drawn up to start building her own place. As much as she loved her stepmother, she didn’t want to live with her forever. Wading through the mess, she put together a sandwich and then spent the evening finishing her unpacking.
Mental and physical exhaustion pulled at her by the time she stowed her emptied suitcases in the walk-in closet of the room she had occupied since her first night on the ranch. As she slid into bed, her phone buzzed and she reluctantly checked the caller ID. Damn, so close. Guilt and exasperation rushed to the surface as she thought about ignoring her ex-fiancé’s call, but she knew from experience that would just be putting it off. In the month since she’d called off their wedding, Jeremy had refused to accept they couldn’t fix whatever had changed her mind.