A Cowboy's Touch (26 page)

“Cut in?” Dylan asked Wade.

Abigail shot Dylan a glare that went unnoticed.

“Sure, Uncle Dylan!” Maddy sailed into his arms, leaving Abigail and Wade alone in the corner.

“I was just—”

“Dance?”

Even though they spoke simultaneously, she heard reluctance in his request. The fact that he didn’t want her in his arms made her want to be there even more.

She raised a brow. “Sure.”

Wade’s jaw twitched. He took her into his arms, holding her stiffly. An average-sized barn could fit between them.

Can’t dance without touching, now, can you?
Abigail looked at the band. At the tin corrugated siding on the walls. At the dark beams running across the ceiling. At the crowd. People seemed to be staring at her.

“Thought you weren’t coming with him,” Wade said.

She darted a glance at him, but he was looking over her head. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t.”

“Good.” So she was being childish. Why’d he ask her to dance if he didn’t want to? And why was he so mad when he didn’t want her for himself?

His hand barely held hers, and she could scarcely feel the weight of his other hand on her waist. It was like he couldn’t stand to touch her. It was a sharp contrast to the poignancy of his touch six days ago. But he’d made it very clear that he regretted it.

An ache started behind her eyes, and she bit her lip hard. She wasn’t going to cry. She was angry, daggonit. How dare he kiss her and then treat her this way. So he regretted it—did he have to be so mean? Rejection was bad enough without his passive-aggressive behavior.

It hurt that he’d ignored her, that he’d snapped at her for no reason. It had hurt all week, and she didn’t stop to question why until now. People didn’t have the power to hurt you unless you cared about them. The truth was, her feelings for Wade had gone deeper than she’d realized.

How deep?

She didn’t want to think about it right now. Didn’t want the
L
word to so much as enter her mind when Wade so clearly didn’t return those feelings, wasn’t even willing to pursue them.

But denial wouldn’t change the truth. The irritation she’d felt all week had only been a front to cover the fact that she was falling in love with him. She hadn’t fully admitted it until now, when being in his arms was more pain than pleasure.

From across the floor Maddy caught her attention and waved. Abigail returned it, trying for a smile and failing miserably. But Maddy didn’t seem to notice. She laughed as Dylan picked her up and spun her around.

Abigail fixed her eyes on the third pearly button of Wade’s shirt. What did her feelings matter anyway? It wasn’t like their relationship could go anywhere. Hadn’t she been over this a hundred times already? Was she that hardheaded?

The song began winding down, and Wade stepped away before the last chord struck. He ushered her off the floor, and Abigail tried not to care that he couldn’t seem to escape soon enough.

She took her seat as Wade disappeared into the crowd. Two women from the next table stared at her, and she resisted the temptation to stick out her tongue.
Wow, Abigail, you really are childish
.

The table was empty until Dylan returned a moment later and sat beside her. “Having fun?” he asked.

“A blast.” Abigail pulled her plate of soggy fries closer and dumped ketchup on the pile. She wanted to go home, but she’d come with Shay. And asking Wade for a ride would only defeat the purpose of leaving.

She bit into a cold fry and glanced over Dylan’s shoulder. A woman she didn’t know stared back. Abigail glanced around the room. “What the heck? Do I have ketchup on my face or what?”

Dylan followed her gaze, and his lips twitched. “You’re Moose Creek’s new Natural Wonder.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Wade hasn’t been on the dance floor since he’s been here— and not for lack of willing partners.”

The news was a warm injection in her heart. But what did she expect? He could hardly dance without touching—which he avoided at all costs. Although he’d come pretty close to it just now.

“They’re just jealous,” Dylan said. “And curious.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be. He was forced into it.” Abigail bit into another fry.

“Ha! Wade’s not forced into anything. If I know anything about him, it’s that.”

Wade reappeared, squeezing between tables with a soda in his hand. His eyes narrowed when he saw them. Then he set his jaw and walked deliberately toward them.

“Shoot,” Dylan said. “You did tell him I’m not your date, right?”

Abigail shrugged. “He didn’t ask.”

Dylan frowned at her, the dimple nowhere to be seen. “You’re as bad as him, know that?”

27

W
ade steeled himself as he approached Abigail and Dylan. Why had he let Maddy and Olivia talk him into coming tonight when he knew Dylan and Abigail were here? He’d all but asked for it, hadn’t he?

Now he wished he could be anywhere else, especially when he’d seen them on the dance floor. Maddy’s words from earlier that week buzzed in his ear. “
Wouldn’t it be great if Uncle Dylan and Abigail got married? I could call her Aunt Abigail!”
The innocent comment had haunted him all week.

Now the two lovebirds were huddled together at the table. If there were anyone else he could sit with, he would. But all his friends were on the floor. He took a gulp of his Coke, then squeezed between two chairs. He was going to accept the first dance offer, he didn’t care who it was. Had half a mind to go find a partner right now.

He seated himself on the other side of Dylan so he wouldn’t have to look across the table at Abigail. A line dance had formed on the floor. So much for dancing. He watched Maddy hook her thumbs in her belt loops and perform the steps like a little cowgirl.

“Some onion bloom left.” Dylan slid the plate toward him.

“No, thanks.” Wade took a long drink of Coke. He could feel Dylan’s eyes on him. Was it hot in here?

From the floor, Marla gestured to Dylan, trying to get him onto the floor. Wade gritted his teeth, praying Dylan wouldn’t leave him alone with Abigail. It seemed to work.

“I was telling Abigail about coming across that wolf pack last summer,” Dylan said.

He should just go home. Pack up Maddy and Olivia and head for the ranch.

“She didn’t realize we had wolves ’round here,” Dylan continued.

Wade would go if they hadn’t just arrived. He watched his daughter sashay across the floor, smiling widely. Olivia turned the wrong way and they collided, laughing. Maddy was having a good time.

“Maybe I should just leave so the two of you can talk,” Dylan said.

That got his attention. “Talk?”

Abigail leaned around Dylan. “You know, talk. That thing people do when they want to communicate.”

That thing he hadn’t been doing all week. Well, neither would she if he’d kissed her, then gone off with
her
best friend. “Maybe I don’t want to communicate.”

She stared him down, and he didn’t give an inch. Not even when the stubborn glint was replaced by something else. Something he couldn’t quite define.

“I need air.” Abigail left the table, headed for the door.

Wade watched her go, her lithe figure skimming between chairs. He wondered about that look he’d just seen and wished he knew her well enough to interpret it.

“What’s your problem?” Dylan asked.

Wade clenched his jaw. His problem? Last he checked, friends didn’t date their best friend’s—

What? Abigail wasn’t his girlfriend. Still, Dylan had seen the kiss. He knew.

Knew what, Ryan? That you’re smitten with her?
It was the same revelation that had disturbed him all week. The kiss had been a real wake-up call. Heck, the touch before it had been enough.

“You’re being a jerk,” Dylan said.

“You got no room to talk,
buddy
.”

Dylan gave a sardonic laugh, the kind he saved for when he was ticked off—which wasn’t often. “She didn’t come with me,
pal
. She came with Shay. Marla’s my date.”

A knot formed in the pit of Wade’s gut. Dylan was right. He was being a jerk. Had been one all week. The knot tightened into an ache, the kind of ache he felt when he made a stupid parental decision and was left feeling like a heel.

“If you want my opinion,” Dylan said, “I don’t think you’re mad at me or Abigail. I think you’re ticked off at yourself for kissing her. But that’s just my opinion.”

Marla appeared at their side, grabbing Dylan’s hand. “Enough talking already . . . let’s boogie!”

Dylan sent Wade one last look as he followed Marla to the floor. Olivia and Maddy returned to the table long enough to swipe their drinks, then headed across the room to join their school friends.

Dylan was right. He owed Abigail an apology. He shouldn’t have kissed her, but his regret shouldn’t have led to him being a major jerk all week. She hadn’t deserved it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he stood and made his way toward the exit. Outside, the night air was cool against his skin. The streetlamps twinkled on the deserted street. He looked down the boardwalk, wondering if Abigail had done something foolish, like try to walk home.

Then he saw a dark form on a bench down the block and headed that way.

Her head leaned against the building behind her, her long legs stretched out in front, her feet crossed at the ankles. She was probably wishing she were home—and not his home. Back in Chicago. Far, far away from him.

She didn’t see him until he was upon her, and then she crossed her arms over her stomach and pulled her legs in, a protective posture. It made him feel like a heel all over again.

The bench groaned as he dropped onto it. He tugged his hat down, then rested his forearms on his knees, wishing he’d given some thought to what he’d say.

He made eye contact. It was the least he could do. “Sorry I was a jerk back there.”

Son of a gun, she was beautiful. The lamplight glowed dimly on her skin. Perfection.

“I didn’t come with Dylan.”

He didn’t want to admit he had no say in who Abigail dated. He wanted to have a say, but he had no right. “Even if you had . . .” He let the sentence trail. “I’ve been a jerk all week. Sorry about that too.”

There was a long pause. He studied the brick hardware store across the street. Watched a couple park their car and walk arm in arm into the Chuckwagon. The only sound was the heavy thumping of the band’s bass.

“Should I go?” Abigail asked.

She wasn’t talking about a ride back to the ranch. She was talking about going home. To Chicago.

The thought of Abigail leaving was like a sucker punch. The air left his lungs, and he sucked it back in, tasting dirt and smoke from someone’s burn pile.

He looked at her. “No.”

“I’m confused.” She had the same look in her eyes she’d had back in the restaurant.

“Last Sunday . . . shouldn’t have happened.”

Her eyes dropped, and she turned away.

“Look, it’s not . . .” He tried again. “No one has . . .” The words clogged in his throat like hay in a chute. He sighed. Why couldn’t he just say it?

She turned his way as if she could read in his face what he couldn’t bring himself to say. It was no good.

“Stop it,” he whispered.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

“I’m trying to figure you out.”

He looked away. He was a goner where she was concerned, and her knowing it wouldn’t help.

“But you don’t want me to,” she said. “Because then I might realize you actually enjoyed that kiss.”

He set his jaw.

“That you might even want it to happen again.”

“Told you how things are.” Then he’d gone and muddied his message with that kiss. “Not interested in a relationship,” he said, just to clear things up.

“You’re done with women.”

“Exactly.” He’d already failed one woman. He didn’t want any harm to come to Abigail—she didn’t deserve it. She’d been nothing but good to him and Maddy.

“Wade.”

He felt her eyes on him and leaned back against the wooden slats. He had to protect her from himself. It was the least he could do. He’d managed for five years, he could get through one measly summer.

“It’s awful what happened to Lizzie. You and Maddy have been through so much. Wade, look at me.”

He felt her fingers on his chin, turning him toward her. Those olive eyes held compassion and something else.

“Honey, it wasn’t your fault.”

The endearment made him go soft inside, but the words that followed sucked the moisture from his mouth. It shamed him to hear his innermost feelings on her lips. He wanted to crawl under a haystack and hide.

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated. “You didn’t fail her and you aren’t failing Maddy. Don’t you believe God is in control of everything? Don’t you believe He has a plan?”