Cassidy Harte and the Comeback Kid (8 page)

Everything was different now. She had moved away to give Matt and Ellie space to build their new life together. It was the right thing to do, she knew. But a part of her still grieved to know Ellie was the one who now heard those secrets of Lucy's, who now received those sticky kisses and tight hugs, while she was relegated to the role of maiden aunt.

Now Jesse and Sarah were getting married, and she knew it probably wouldn't be long before they added their own little branches to the Harte family tree.

She would love their children, just as she did Lucy and Dylan. She would spoil them with presents and take them to the movies and baby-sit so their parents could have a night on the town.

And she would always be on the outside looking in.

She ground her teeth, angry at the direction of her thoughts. She was childish to think such things, even for a moment. Her family loved her. She had absolutely no doubt about that. Lucy loved her. Their hearts would
always be knit together by those ten years she had nurtured her niece. Nothing could change that.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Sarah asked in her quiet voice while Ellie was occupied loading the girls up with plates and silverware.

Cassie pushed away her thoughts and summoned a smile. “Sure. I'm fine. Just hungry.”

Sarah didn't look convinced, but to her relief, her future sister-in-law was too tactful to push her on it as they finished preparations for dinner.

As usual, the meal was noisy and rambunctious, full of heated debates, good food and plenty of laughter. Cassie joined in, but a part of her sat back, watching her brothers with the women they loved.

Matt and Ellie never seemed to stop touching each other. Ellie's hand on Matt's arm as she made a point. Matt's quick caress of his wife's shoulder as she leaned back in her chair. A soft kiss when they thought no one was looking.

It still amazed her to see her big, gruff oldest brother teasing and smiling at his spunky little wife.

Jesse and Sarah were the same, and she whispered a quick prayer of gratitude that her middle brother had finally realized he deserved better than the wild, bubble-headed party girls he usually dated, that he had been wise enough to latch on to someone as soft and good as Sarah.

She was jealous of them for their happiness. All of them. For a few brief months she had known that same deep connection with Slater, but she was terribly afraid she would never find it with someone else. The knowledge had her picking at her steak and barely touching the homemade ice cream Dylan and Lucy had churned.

She had a good life, she reminded herself. Thanks
to Slater, in just a few weeks she would have enough money to put the down payment on Murphy's and finally realize her dream of running her own restaurant. She would have purpose in her life again. Direction.

“You gonna eat the rest of that?” Jesse asked, gesturing with his spoon toward her melting ice cream.

She grinned at her bottomless pit of a brother. And wasn't it just like a man that for all he ate, he never gained an ounce of fat, just hard muscle? “What will you give me if I let you finish it off?”

“How about a ride in my police Bronco with all the lights and sirens blaring?”

“Ohh. As tempting as that sounds, I just don't think my poor heart could stand so much excitement.”

Jesse pondered for a moment. “How about I let you keep Daisy while we're in Vancouver for our honeymoon?”

She laughed, looking toward the shade of the sycamore where his big golden retriever lounged with Dylan and Lucy. “Again, a very enticing offer. But I think your baby would be happier here on the ranch where she can chase the cats and play with the cow dogs. Is that the best you can do?”

“Come on, Cass. Your ice cream is just sitting there going to waste, melting all over the place. Why don't you just tell me what you want?”

She hadn't want to bring this up in front of the rest of the family but she couldn't pass up the chance. “Promise you won't make any more scenes in town like the one in front of Murphy's this week with Slater, and it's all yours.”

Jesse glowered, all teasing forgotten. “I can't make a promise like that. I should have pounded the bastard's pretty-boy face in.”

She glowered right back. “It's not your battle to fight, Jess.”

“The hell it isn't.”

“All you did with your little chest-pounding demonstration was stir up more gossip. You're not helping anything.”

“I'm not about to sit by and let him hurt you again.”

“I can take care of myself,” she snapped, even though she wasn't at all sure of that, as evidenced by her response to that slow, sexy late-night kiss.

Before Jesse could argue, Matt broke in. “Neutral corners, you two. Looks like we have company.”

From here she could see the long, curving driveway into the ranch and she recognized Wade's truck kicking up dirt as he roared toward the house.

“Who could that be?” Ellie wondered.

Color climbed up her cheekbones. “Um, that would be my date.”

“Who?” Jesse asked suspiciously, and she fought the urge to dump the rest of her melting ice cream in his lap.

“Wade Lowry. We're going to a show in Jackson. You have a problem with that?”

Jesse made a face but didn't say anything. She knew he and Wade didn't get along, something to do with the days when Wade worked for the police department.

“That's great!” Ellie interjected, with just enough enthusiasm to make Cassie wonder if her family thought she had zero social life. Which was basically the truth. “You should have invited him to dinner.”

She made a noncommittal sound, heartily glad she hadn't. “I'm sorry I can't stay to help clean up.”

“Don't worry about it,” Ellie said. “Just go have a great time.”

She rose from the picnic table and plopped her bowl of what was now plain vanilla cream without the ice in front of Jesse. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

And that's just what she would do, she thought as she walked out front to meet Wade. She would do her best to enjoy their date and try to summon more than just friendly feelings for him.

She wanted to grab for happiness where she could find it, not spend the rest of her life pining for something she could never have again.

T
his was getting to be a bad habit.

Zack sat on the little front porch of his cabin, uncomfortably aware he was lurking in the corner like some kind of peeping Tom. He had pushed the comfy rocking chair as close to the wall as he could without the rockers hitting it. Nobody could see him, he assured himself as he watched the small driveway for any sign of Lowry's pickup truck.

He wasn't spying on her.

He
wasn't.

He was simply savoring the quiet of the night, enjoying a beautiful cool summer evening in the mountains, with the fresh, intoxicating smell of sage mixed with pine, and the stars twinkling overhead in a vast glittering blanket. He was only enjoying the soothing sounds of the crickets and the creek and the soft wind tinkling the wind chimes Cassie had hung on her porch.

Right. Who was he kidding? He had been sitting out
here all evening trying to convince himself his motives were pure, even while one part of him kept watch like a nervous father for Cassie to return from her night out.

He had maintained his solitary vigil while the ranch guests returned in pairs or small family groups to their own cabins after a hard day of recreating. Now, just past midnight, the ranch was mostly quiet. Peaceful.

Even with this edginess that forced his gaze toward the driveway a dozen times a minute, he still found himself enjoying it.

A barn owl hooted somewhere in the night, a low, mournful call, and a few seconds later it was answered from one of the big cottonwood trees near the creek.

At least somebody wouldn't be alone tonight.

He found himself smiling at the whimsical thought but sobered quickly. He, on the other hand, was still alone. Always alone, just as he'd been from the age of fifteen, except for that brief, magical time when his life had merged with Cassie's.

Before he could dwell on that grim reminder he saw headlights flash into the driveway and shifted a little deeper into the shadows.

Lowry drove a late-model pickup truck with a fresh wax job that gleamed in the pale moonlight.

Zack watched him climb out and hurry toward the passenger side to open the door for Cassie, ever the gentleman, and Zack had to clench his hands into fists to keep from marching down the steps and slugging the bastard.

Cassie hopped out of the truck with what he thought might be just a little too much eagerness, as if all she wanted was to be home.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

No. Everything about her body language spoke of a
woman who wasn't eager for any post-date clutch. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweater and walked briskly up the walk toward her cabin.

“I had a great time, Wade,” she murmured when they reached the steps to her porch. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Lowry edged a little closer, and Zack went completely still so he could hear his next words.

“We need to do this more often,” Lowry murmured, and Zack didn't realize he was holding his breath until he heard her make a little noncommittal sound in response.

“Well, good night,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. “And thanks again.”

Zack couldn't help his smirk as she hurried up the steps of her cabin as if she wanted to put as much distance as possible between them. His smirk faded quickly when Lowry bounded after her to the door.

In the gleam of the porch light she had left burning, Zack could see her unease. Her shoulders were tight, and she was already reaching to unlock her front door.

She might have made it through the door unscathed. He would never know. At that moment he leaned forward slightly for a better view, and the rocker squeaked on a loose floorboard under his feet.

It was just a tiny sound in the night, no louder than the wind rubbing two limbs together, but she whirled her head toward his cabin. Though the lighting was dim, he was fairly certain her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the corner of darkness where he lurked.

When she turned back to Lowry, her smile was unnaturally bright, with none of the hesitation that had been there before. “I really did have a wonderful time, Wade. I know the Applewood Players in Jackson are
performing a melodrama this summer. I've heard good things about it. Maybe we could go sometime.”

Wade looked slightly dazzled. “I'd like that.”

After an awkward pause he angled his head and Zack held his breath, knowing with grim certainty what was going to happen next. Sure enough, the bastard leaned down and brushed his lips against Cassie's.

It wasn't a long kiss, only a few heartbeats, but it went on long enough that Zack was forced to curl his hands into fists on the armrests to keep from throttling both of them.

He wasn't sure through the haze of green over his eyes which of them broke it off. The next thing he knew, Cassie had unlocked her door slicker than spit on a griddle.

“Have dinner with me this week.”

“I don't know,” she answered, and he wondered if that breathy note in her voice stemmed from reaction or nervousness. “My schedule's pretty full for a while. Jean wants everything to be perfect for…for the new owner, plus I'm going to be busy training my replacement.”

“When is your next day off? I'm flexible. We can work around your schedule.”

“I'll have to let you know. Good night, Wade,” she finally said with firmness, then slipped inside her house, leaving her clean wildflower scent floating in the air, torturing him even across the distance between their cabins.

Lowry stood on the porch for just a moment, then bounded down the porch steps, whistling cheerfully as he climbed into his pickup. He revved the engine a little too much, then drove away.

Zack stayed in his dark corner a few moments
longer, wondering when he could safely get up and go inside without her hearing him. He was still mulling it over when her door opened again and she peeked her head out.

“You can come out now. He's gone,” Zack called softly. He only meant to tease her a little, but he immediately realized he had made a severe miscalculation in judgment.

His old man always warned him not to yank a barn cat's tail unless he was in the mood for some damn good scratches.

With both hands, she shoved open her screen door the rest of the way then marched down her steps and up his until she loomed over him, angry tension in every tight line of her body.

“How was the show?” she snapped. “See anything interesting while you were lurking out here in the dark?”

He leaned back in the rocking chair with a grin. “To be honest, it didn't look real thrilling from here. But then, I wasn't the one with Lowry's tongue down my throat, either.”

The sound she made was somewhere between a growl and a cussword. “What are you doing out here, Slater?”

He shrugged. “Can't a man sit out on a warm summer evening and just enjoy the night?”

“You have no right to spy on me.”

He assumed an injured tone. “Spy? Why would I want to do that?”

“Beats me. Why do you do anything? Why come back to Star Valley in the first place? Why go to so much trouble to buy the Lost Creek? Why force me to stay and work for you?”

Because I'm still crazy about you, after ten years.
He heard the words in his head and shifted in the rocking chair, swallowing them back.

“I like it here,” he muttered. “I've always liked it here.”

“No. It's more than that. You're up to something. Why not just admit it and tell me what it is you want?”

What would she say if he told her what he wanted was to pull her into his lap right now and show her a real kiss, not that thing Lowry gave her?

Since he was pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate it, he opted to change the subject. “How was your date?” he asked instead.

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Fine. The musical was good.”

“And the company?” he couldn't resist asking.

“None of your business, Slater.”

Every instinct in him warned him to hold his tongue, but his next words slipped out, anyway. “I thought I told you it wasn't a good idea to go out with him.”

“And I thought I told you I don't give a damn what you want. Good night, Slater.”

She whirled to go, but he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could march back down the steps. “Just be careful around him, okay? I don't think he's the nice guy everybody seems to think.”

She slid her hand from his loose grasp. “You've been gone for ten years, Zack. You don't know Wade at all. And you don't know me, either.”

He watched her walk back into her cabin then purposefully move about the place yanking every curtain closed.

That barn owl hooted again but this time there was no answering call.

The silence made him feel more alone than ever.

 

She was cutting radishes into flowery garnishes the next afternoon when Jean walked into the kitchen, her gray hair yanked into its regular braid and a smile on her weathered face.

“Hear you went into Jackson with Wade Lowry last night to see a show. Have a good time?”

She sighed. She had answered that very question half a dozen times already that day. Why was it she couldn't even buy a new toothbrush without everybody hearing about it?

“They have a talented group this year, even though those college kids seem to get younger and younger every year.”

“Time marches on, whether we want it to or not.”

True enough. Just that morning she had ruthlessly yanked a solitary gray hair from among her short dark cap like a gardener after weeds. Maybe that's why she couldn't seem to shake this black mood. It surely didn't have anything to do with her snoopy next-door neighbor or the insane urge that had come over her the night before to kiss that smirk right off his face.

“Anyway, it was very professionally done,” she said, hastily dragging her mind from those dangerous waters. “I was thinking maybe some of the guests might enjoy an outing into town one of these nights. You could probably get a good rate on tickets for a large group.”

“Good idea. Maybe I'll try to set something up next week.” With a long sigh, Jean settled into a chair and plucked one of the radishes from the tray, then popped it into her mouth.

It was so rare to see the Lost Creek owner—well,
the lame duck owner, anyway—sit down for any length of time that Cassie set down her knife and studied her boss carefully.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

Jean shrugged. “Sure. Just fine.”

“How are you feeling, really?”

The older woman was quiet for a moment and Cassie ached for the weary frustration flickering through those steely gray eyes. “I won't lie to you. Some days are better than others. Without this damned arthritis I'd feel half my age.”

No matter what she might think about Zack Slater, she couldn't forget that Jean really didn't have a choice about selling the ranch to his company. She wasn't sure if he would be ruthless enough to make good on his threat to back out of the sale if she didn't stick it out for a few short weeks, but she couldn't take that chance.

“Just think.” She summoned a smile for her friend. “In a few months you'll be in San Diego with your daughter and can take it easy just soaking in the ocean breezes.”

A spasm of worry tightened the older woman's features. “I suppose. If everything goes through with Maverick and young Slater.”

“Has there been a problem?” Cassie asked carefully.

“Don't know. He's a man who plays his cards pretty close to his chest. Hard to know what he's thinking.”

Wasn't that the truth? There was a time she thought she knew him as well as she knew herself. She could see now exactly how foolish and young she'd been. Age had taught her that people could be married for
years and still keep a large chunk of their souls to themselves.

“You know,” Jean went on pensively, “I couldn't figure out at first why he wanted the ranch, but the more I see him around the place, I think I'm beginning to see it.”

Cassie hated the curiosity prowling through her. At the same time she couldn't quite manage to control it. “What have you figured out?”

“I don't think it's about money at all. I think he loves it here. I think maybe he feels he belongs.”

Cassie chopped so hard she mangled the pretty little radish flower under her hands. Zack Slater would never belong. Not at the Lost Creek, not in Salt River, not in the entire Star Valley. He couldn't.

Jean was wrong. It had to be the money. He was a greedy opportunist who knew a good deal when he saw it. And if he could find a way to hurt her in the bargain, so much the better.

She opened her mouth to say so but shut it again. She had no call to hurt Jean's feelings. If the woman wanted to believe Zack's motives for buying the guest ranch were so pure, Cassie didn't have the heart—or the cruelty—to disillusion her.

Besides, after their agreement ended in just three more weeks, he would have no more hold on her than their shared past. What he did wouldn't concern her at all.

“Anyway, the reason I stopped by is to ask how you'd feel about going up with the cattle drive tomorrow. I was planning to go as camp cook but I'm just not sure I can manage it, the way I've been feeling the past two or three days.”

The idea held instant appeal. She hadn't gone on an
overnight ride into the mountains since the previous fall's roundup at the Diamond Harte. The thought of a night spent breathing clear, high-altitude air seemed exactly what she needed to make some order of her chaotic thoughts.

She could have Matt bring her favorite mare over from the ranch and her pack tent and camping supplies.

“What about the meals here while I'm gone?” she asked, warming quickly to the idea.

“Claire can cover for you. Most all the guests have signed up for the roundup, anyway. I know it's short notice, but it would really help me out.”