It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel) (8 page)

C
hapte
r
E
ight

Ella shuffled through the well-worn clothes hanging in her closet. She really needed to go shopping. An updated wardrobe hadn’t been a top priority the past several years, and she certainly hadn’t been dancing since before Bradley was diagnosed.

According to Brianna, cowboy boots were in order for tonight’s dance, so she pulled her black buffalo calfskin Luccheses from the back of her closet. They weren’t for traipsing through cow dung on the ranch; these babies were for scooting across a dance floor in style. She ran her fingers across the hand stitching. It had been a long time. Her dance steps were probably more than a little rusty, but hey, wasn’t it like riding a bike?

She dabbed on a little makeup, hoping the ancient tubes of goop weren’t expired and breeding some sort of skin-eating bacteria. New makeup was probably in order, too. She picked up a tube of mascara. At least she thought it was mascara. Hard to tell, since it was so old the label had rubbed off. Twisting off the cap, she withdrew the wand, and a dry black clump of tar came out.

Ick. No way was she putting that on her face.

Ella tossed it in the trash and then put on a white gauzy sundress. The night air was cold year-round in Red River, so she added a jean jacket. The last touch was a pair of gold hoop earrings, a small dainty necklace, and her wedding ring. After sliding it onto her finger, she held up her hand to look at it.

It was a beautiful piece of bling. Bradley had insisted on buying her a nice-size engagement ring and a band of diamonds to match. Soon she’d have to take it off permanently. Definitely before she left Red River. She sighed. But not tonight. Not yet.

Actually, she didn’t plan to stay at the dance that long. A little time out of the cabin would be nice. Then she’d head home to work on her third book,
Rio Grande Romp
. She only had a few chapters left to write, and since Wanton Publishing had it on a crash schedule for earlier release, she needed to finish it in the next few days. Cyn Caldwell would probably be calling soon, also insisting on the excerpt for book four.

A wave of panic swept through her. She’d outlined book four but hadn’t even started writing it yet. How on earth was she going to come up with an excerpt? She blew out a heavy breath. She’d have to think of something. Soon.

Her new career and its demands were all so daring, so breaking-the-rules.

So totally not like her.

That’s what made it so exciting. She’d never lived life on the edge. The biggest risk she’d ever taken had been applying to grad school at UNM without her parents’ knowledge and moving to Albuquerque with student housing and an on-campus job already lined up. And that had scared the hell out of her. She hadn’t been sure she made the right decision until she met Bradley.

Now, it seemed her life consisted
only
of unexpected twists and turns and surprises around every corner. She had no plan, beyond spending the summer in Red River. Just the here and now, and the future would work itself out somehow.

Ella snatched a comb and a hair band from the dresser and tried to pull her overgrown hair into a fashionable knot.

Financially, she could afford to take risks. Emotionally? Completely different story. How could she move forward without Bradley? He’d been her security blanket. Without him, every step was like walking a tightrope with nothing below to catch her if she fell. And loving another man besides him? That terrified her.

With a frustrated sigh, she gave up on her hair and let it tumble loosely around her shoulders.

Maybe instead of running out of the dance tonight, she’d stay and try to have a good time. Meet new people. Have a drink and enjoy dancing. Fun hadn’t been on her agenda in a long while.

Fidgeting with her ring, she slid it off her finger and studied it.

The past two years, her friends in Albuquerque coaxed her out to dinner or a movie once in a while just to get her out of the house. But she’d refused to go dancing. The idea of facing the singles scene shook her already battered sense of security.

Maybe it was time. She’d come here in the first place to let go of Bradley and move on as a single woman. A confident single woman, right? A few friendly dances in this little town wouldn’t be the same meat-market atmosphere as the bars in a big city. It might be a good start.

She drew in a breath, and slid the ring back on her finger.

One step at a time. Dancing and fun tonight. Taking Bradley’s ring off forever . . . she still wasn’t sure when, but not yet.

Ella stared at her reflection in the mirror. She certainly wouldn’t be the belle of the ball. A trip to the salon wouldn’t hurt. She’d make an appointment with Brianna soon. For tonight, though, there wasn’t much she could do to improve her appearance.

“What do you think, guys?” She struck a pose for the two dogs that snuggled in the corner on top of a fuzzy blanket. Winston broke wind and rolled onto his side, a loud wheeze sounding through his flattened snout. Atlas snuggled closer to him.

“That good, huh?” Ella’s shoulders sagged.

Grabbing a tube of pink lip gloss, she swiped the wand over her lips, then twirled in front of the mirror. This was as good as it got for tonight, anyway. And really, whom did she need to impress? Nobody.

“See ya, boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She stared at the snoring dogs.

Ella slung her purse over one shoulder and walked into the kitchen. The T-shirt Coop had loaned her the first night she arrived still sat on the counter, laundered and folded into a perfect square. He hadn’t bothered to put it away. Ella ran her hand over the soft cotton.

If she didn’t care to impress anyone tonight, then why was she wondering about Coop?

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Ella slammed the door behind her and peeled out of the drive, headed to town.

Coop shoved the tap handles back and tried to pretend Ella wasn’t in the room. Kind of hard, since she’d fixed herself up so nicely and scooted past him every dance with a smile on her face so broad it lit the room. Light makeup emphasized her sculpted cheekbones, deep green eyes, and full lips. Tiny little strings that knotted into a bow over each shoulder had him guessing she wasn’t wearing a bra.

When Ross dropped her into a dip and she came up laughing, the nice bounce of her chest confirmed Coop’s guess, and his teeth ground together. He tried to shake it off and concentrate on the streams of beer that trickled to a stop.

She looked good.
That feminine dress was way different than her usual faded jeans and running shorts. The transformation drew his attention every time she moved.

Coop ran a hand through his hair and focused on the two old buzzards in front of him. Butch and his buddy Orland sat at the bar, each drinking a beer. Friends since his dad came to Red River on vacation twenty years ago and hired Orland as a fly-fishing guide, they were inseparable. Coop plunked full mugs down in front of them. They clinked them together, making another obnoxious toast. Coop shook his head and wiped his hands on a towel. He’d be driving the both of them home tonight.

The annual Firefighters’ Charity Dance had drawn a big crowd. Anything sponsored by the fire department usually did, since northern New Mexico was so heavily forested, and the local economy could die out completely from one stray spark from a campfire or a careless flick of a cigarette butt. Every table full, and C and W dancers working up a sweat, Coop and Dylan kept the drink orders flowing, but Coop’s irritation grew every time he heard Ella’s throaty laughter drift in his direction. His jaw clenched a little tighter every time Ross turned her on the dance floor and her white dress drifted upward to reveal slender legs.

“Hi, Coop.” Sandra Edwards appeared in front of him. She propped her elbows on the bar and leaned over, offering him a nice view of her considerable cleavage. Her voice purred like a seductive kitten. “Buy a gal a beer?”

Coop averted his eyes. “No can do. It’s for charity, so everybody’s responsible for their own tab.”
And I’m supposed to stay away from women like you. Women in general, actually.
Coop frowned and glanced in Ella’s direction.

Sandra’s bottom lip puckered, and she dipped her shoulders lower so that her buxom chest poured out of a skimpy top.

Coop didn’t take the bait. He had to get rid of her. He’d heard stories. Of course, he couldn’t believe everything he heard; he’d learned that very painful lesson because of Kim Arrington. Being the victim of malicious gossip made a person think twice before listening to rumors. But the way Sandra constantly cornered him like a cat pawing at a mouse, he had to believe there was some truth to her sexual notoriety. And that meant trouble for him, with a capital T.

“Sandra, Doc Holloway hasn’t danced all night.” Coop waved his hand towel toward Red River’s young and eligible medical doctor sitting on the far side of the room. “If anyone can coax him onto the dance floor, it’s you.”

She looked over at Dr. Blake Holloway, and her smile turned predatory.

Guilt washed through Coop for throwing the good doctor under the bus to save himself.

Sandra stood up straight and pushed out her chest. “See ya later, then.” She winked at Coop and set off for her new target.

Poor man.
Doc was a nice guy. Coop would have to make it up to him somehow.

Another fast two-step started, and the dance floor filled. Ross led Ella into a turn like a master. She could dance, that was for sure, and irritatingly enough, it turned him on as much as the teasing glimpses of her firm thighs.

They maneuvered past him, and her laugh evoked a pull in his chest. She was having a little too much fun, in Coop’s opinion. After just two drinks—because yes, he’d been counting—she’d gotten loud and flirty. Ross was a nice guy, but he was a
guy
. His attraction to Ella was obvious, and with her inhibitions dropping like a rock, Ross might get the wrong impression. And the thought of Ella doing anything with Ross beyond dancing rubbed Coop the wrong way. The fact that it bothered him so much chafed him even more. Ella Dennings wasn’t his problem.

Except that she was. On so many levels.

The hem of her white dress fluttered like tissue paper as Ross spun her under his arm. When she tossed her head back and laughed like a little girl on a merry-go-round, Coop’s fists clenched. The song ended and Ross pulled her close, dipping his head to whisper into Ella’s ear. Coop pulled the hand towel from his shoulder and tossed it on the bar. He threw up the hinged counter and started for the dance floor.

“Whoa there, partner.” Orland blocked Coop’s exit with one outstretched leg. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Coop glowered at his dad’s buddy. “You’re not me, and how do you know what I’m about to do?”

Orland chuckled and looked at Butch.

“It’s written all over your face, Cooper,” his dad said, before sucking down a quarter of the mug. Butch wiped a trickle of Budweiser off his chin. “You’ve been watching Ella ever since she walked in, and your face turns a deeper shade of red every time she dances with Ross.”

Coop grew indignant. “It does not.”

“Does too,” Orland slurred.

“You’re drunk,” Coop accused.

“And you’re an ass,” Orland countered.

“I’m taking your keys away if you order another drink.”

“You do that. Won’t change you being an ass.” Butch downed another quarter of the mug and burped.

“I was just going over to see if she’s okay. She’s not much of a drinker. How does that make me an ass?”

“Bull. You were going over to make a fool of yourself by butting into her business,” Butch said. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want her around, so who she dances with, dates, or sleeps with isn’t any of your business.”

A vision of Ella naked with Ross made him bristle, and he cursed under his breath.

“You don’t get it both ways, son,” Butch said. “Trust me, I know.”

Coop blinked at his dad. Everyone tiptoed around Butch’s failed marriages, most of all, Butch himself. One could argue that Butch often lived with his head in the sand. Coop’s mom and all four stepmoms had certainly said so, often telling Butch that denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt. So his levelheadedness threw Coop for a second.