Lone Tree (13 page)

To my favorite girl
, and under
that,
Garth
.

Lainie stared at the picture. Her mind was a blank.
She felt no recognition, no kinship, but this man was her father.

In the next picture, the last in the group, the
couple stood side by side, each with an arm around the other. He wasn’t a tall
man; his head was barely higher than hers. The black and white photographs
didn’t reveal the color of his eyes, but they appeared to be light, and his
hair was darker than Elizabeth’s. Lainie raised her gaze to stare into space.

Walter was her father. She might be a product of
this man’s seed, but Walter had loved her, nourished her, raised her.

She looked again at the snapshots of Garth Mallory
and Elizabeth Ann Auburn. But that man had captured her mother’s heart first.
The three photographs were mute testimony to the fact.

Lainie felt proud of herself as she followed Irish
and Reed out of the stable; she’d saddled Glory without help. Reed had checked
her finished work without comment then allowed her to mount. Nelly had watched
her working with exacting eyes, beaming all the while.

Her gaze fell upon a bedroll packed atop Irish,
along with the saddlebags containing lunch. The blanket would allow them a more
conventional picnic today, she thought as she guided Glory alongside the other
horse. Then one of her mother’s pet phrases occurred to her:
You couldn’t
catch on to a bread wagon if you were starving to death.

Duh.

“What’s the blanket for, Reed?”

He glanced sideways at her, a very long glance, but
he said nothing.

Lainie looked straight ahead. “So that’s what it’s
for.” She shook her head. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so.”

“Okay.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That was too easy.”

He shrugged, added a chuckle. “You and I both know
it’s going to happen eventually. I just have to outwait you.”

“Yeah? You sound so sure of yourself. Just what
makes you think anything is going to happen between us?”

He took his time, turning slowly and allowing his
smile to build and stretch. She withstood his gaze for a long moment, but
couldn’t maintain the straight and forthright expression she wanted to convey.
She looked away, disconcerted with the situation, annoyed with herself, and
disturbed by him.

“Are you sure you want to argue along these lines?”
he asked, voice bland.

Boy howdy. That man was way too big for his boots.

“No.” Her tone should’ve put an end to the
discussion. To add emphasis, she urged Glory into a faster gait and moved
ahead. Reed took his time catching up to her, and once he did, he gave her a
sideways glance that clearly said,
running away?
Refusing to give him
any kind of satisfaction, she slowed the horse.

“Appears we’re both aware of the situation we’ve got
here,” Reed went on, as if there’d been no break in conversation. “And what the
inevitable outcome is going to be.”

No response.

“Then only one, or I should say two, issues remain
to be decided.”

In the long silence that followed, Lainie cursed
herself for being a fool, but she couldn’t leave that statement alone. And of
course he’d known that. “What...issues?” she asked, clipping off each word.

“When and where.”

She pulled Glory to an abrupt stop. It was way past
time to explain to this cowboy exactly where the lines were.

But Reed beat her to the punch. “Look yonder. That’s
the oasis, just a mile or two more.” He glanced at her. “Are you a gambler?”

Lainie gave a very unladylike snort. “Dealing with
you, everything’s a gamble.”

“You’re getting good on Glory. I’ll race you to the
edge of the oasis, and the winner chooses the time and place.”

Sun sneaked in under her hat brim as she looked at
him, so she tilted the hat. “You really think I might not notice how stacked
those odds are?”

“I’ve got the experience, but you’ve got the faster
horse and you’re lighter. That evens us out.” His mouth curved, and his eyes
held smug speculation he wasn’t even trying to disguise. He thought he’d hooked
her with the bet, and he also figured he’d win the race.

He was right on the first point. But on the second
point, even if he won, would that mean she’d lose? Putting aside reservations,
giving in to nature and Reed and herself, appealed to her more in that instant
than anything had in a long time. If he won, she’d win as well, and her heart
and body tingled with the thought. On the other hand, if she won she’d prove
her prowess as a horsewoman, and in doing so would give this guy the comeuppance
he so sorely needed. And she just might win.

Digging her heels into Glory, she barely caught
Reed’s startled exclamation and then fast left it behind her. She lowered her
head close to the mare’s, whispering encouragement. Wind whipped Lainie’s face,
making her eyes sting. Terrain roared by in a blur. Doubt formed of her ability
to control the power of the animal, then her fear flew in the face of the wind
and exhilaration and pure joy.

Not trusting her horsemanship enough to change
position, she didn’t dare look back to see how close the race was. It took
everything she had to hang on. Her boots pushed at the stirrups, her knees
gripped the horse’s withers, tension built in her shoulders.

She felt as much as heard the thud of the gelding’s
hooves as Irish loomed on her left. But still behind. Lainie slapped the reins
on Glory’s neck, hunched her body even more until she almost lay upon the
horse. Then Glory was inside the oasis. Another couple of yards and Irish
would’ve had the lead, but Glory had clearly won.

Lainie pulled on the reins. “Whoa, girl. Whoa now.”
She felt as breathless as if she’d been the one running. She pulled in air,
whooshed it out, patted the mare’s neck. “Good girl, Glory. Good run.”

She shot a smile of triumph at Reed. His face glowed
with the effect of wind, sun, and his own exertion, and she also saw in his
expression pride in her accomplishment.

“Didn’t think you could do it,” he admitted. “Even
when you stole that head start, I didn’t think so. You’re good, Lainie, and
getting better every day.”

He dismounted and tethered Irish, rubbing the
gelding’s neck and praising his effort. He untied the blanket, tossed it near
the water’s edge, and reached for the saddlebags. He looked curiously at
Lainie, who was still mounted. “What’s the matter? Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, but remained in the
saddle. At the back of her mind, Lainie wished Irish had been just a little
faster and allowed Reed to win. She added, no inflection in her voice, “I won.”

“That you did,” he said, then gave her a quick look
when he caught on. He made an exaggerated turn, looking slowly around. “What
better place? What better time?”

She looked, with longing, at the beautiful setting
and the sexy cowboy. They had the whole day and she was sorely tempted. But she
said, “Uh-uh.”

A romantic entanglement with Miles’s foreman wasn’t
in her best interests, or Reed’s. Her time here was temporary and if they got
in too deep, they’d both be hurt. It was best to continue putting this off, and
maybe they’d both eventually tire of the whole thing.

Inwardly she snorted at that thought. Who was she
trying to kid? But she still wasn’t going to get down off this horse.

“Okay,” Reed said agreeably. Again he shrugged
easily, too easily, as he pulled the saddlebags free. “Come help me set this
up, and we can eat and then talk about it.”

She laughed. “Now you want to talk?”

“That’s what I said.” He dropped the saddlebags next
to the blanket. “Are you going to get down off that horse?”

“No.”

He gave her a long, almost weary look. “So you need
help after all,” he said under his breath, and took a step toward her.

Glory pranced backward, and Reed stopped. “Is that
horse skittish, or is it you?”

“Glory’s fine.”

He took another step, and Glory backed up some more.
Reed paused. “Wish you’d stop doin’ that. You could give a man a complex,
backin’ away from him like that.”

He remained still, but Glory backed up some more.
Lainie had noticed Reed’s drawl had grown more pronounced, and that he looked
and sounded especially lazy. She didn’t trust him an inch.

“What do I have to do to get you down off that
horse, Lainie?”

“I don’t think you’re going to get me down off this
horse, Reed.”

She realized she’d dared him. She also realized that
if this was the way she was going to play it, she needed to get out of there.
Pronto. He turned and walked toward Irish.

She stroked Glory’s neck, watching Reed’s back.
“You’re thinking you’d have a better chance of getting these reins from me if
you were also mounted.”

“Can’t get anything by you, can I.”

At least he was honest about it.

“Bye,” she said, and urged Glory away, careful to
give Reed a wide berth. When he quickened his pace toward Irish, she stiffened,
ready to dig her heels into Glory. But then Reed turned back, grew still and
just watched her.

Much of their gear already lay upon the ground, but
that wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d wanted to give chase. And the distance
to the ranch was enough that Reed’s experienced horsemanship would allow him to
overtake her. At his decision not to push, she felt a curious mixture of relief
and disappointment, which led to another curious mixture of confusion and
irritation.

*

Nelly gave Lainie a quick second look when she
arrived by herself. She dismounted and proceeded to tend to Glory. She offered
no explanation and he asked no questions, but she noted the growing amusement
he wasn’t trying to hide, and she guessed that he’d figured it out. She hurried
through ministrations to Glory, wanting to get out of there before Reed
arrived, and not caring if Nelly figured that out or not.

She halfway expected her riding teacher to look her
up once he returned to the ranch, but he kept his distance. At supper that
evening, Reed was a couple of people ahead of her in the buffet line. She
speared a piece of chicken fried steak, added mashed potatoes and country
gravy, and spooned up some peas. The day’s outing had given her an appetite.
She added a wedge of apple pie, its aroma making her mouth water.

When she took the chair next to Reed, he glanced
sideways at her. It might’ve been wiser to have kept her distance as well, but
there was something she needed his permission for.

“That picnic lunch today surely was lonely,” he
said, voice flat.

She cut into her steak. “Were you able to manage
everything all right? All...uh...by yourself?”

Reed gave her a look that said,
huh?
Then he
laughed. “Tarnation, Lainie Sue, but you sure are pushin’ it.” When Reed used
her full name, it carried a musical sound. He sliced his biscuit, placed a slab
of butter in the middle, and ate it in two bites. “Hope you understand I’m not
givin’ up on you.”

“Hope you understand I already figured that out. And
that’s why I’m going to avoid being alone with you.”

With his fork cutting into his slab of apple pie, he
slanted a glance at her. “Your loss.”

His voice had turned flat again. She agreed with the
statement—and felt as lifeless about it as he’d sounded—but no way was she
going to tell him so.

Once he’d finished the pie, he pushed his chair
back.

“I rode home by myself today,” she said before he
could get away, and then she propped her elbow on the table and her forehead on
her fist. That was a stupid opener. And she caught the look Randy sent their
way. He blushed and went back to his meal. Apparently Nelly wasn’t the only one
who knew how to put two and two together.

“Is there a point here?” Reed asked, voice cool.
“Other than the obvious?”

She looked up. “What I’m trying to say is that I’d
like to start riding by myself and not have to keep finding someone to go with
me. What do you think?”

“You can handle it. You want to be on your own, then
you’re on your own. With my blessing.”

He walked away. She didn’t look after him. She’d
caught both his impatience and the double meaning, wasn’t surprised at either,
nor was she happy about it. Despite her resolve not to allow a relationship to
form, it’d happened anyway. And was just as tough dealing with as she’d feared.

Jackie Lyn stood in front of the doorjamb leading
into her kitchen. In her left hand she held a plastic tub that had once
contained margarine, but now held an inch of Teal Glow paint, and in her right
hand was the tiniest paintbrush Lainie had ever seen.

Wrinkling her nose, Jackie said, “Love the look of a
freshly painted wall but never liked the smell of it.” She dipped the brush
into the paint, delicately brushed it against the inside lip of the margarine
tub, then applied it to the door casing.