Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders) (2 page)

“You been drinkin’? ’Cause you ain’t making a lick of sense. Quit dancing around the subject, college girl, and spill it.”

“Rory is back in Sundance and working for Wyoming Natural Resource Council.”

Everything switched into slow motion. Dalton couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He had to pull onto the shoulder so he didn’t wreck his truck.

“Dalton?”

“You said Rory is livin’ in Sundance.”

“Yes.”

“With her fiancé?”

“No. She, ah, broke off the engagement.”

“When?”

“Six months ago.”

This was not happening. Sierra had
not
kept this information from him about Rory for half a goddamned year.

“Dalton. I know your head is about to explode—”

“Jesus, Sierra, do you fucking
think
? Why are you just telling me this now?” he roared. “Do you have any fucking idea—”

“That you’ve been holed up in the middle of freakin’ nowhere moping because Rory got engaged to someone else? Why yes, I was completely aware of that little factoid, cuz.”

Silence.

“Besides, you were doing your lumberjack gig and completely off the grid when Rory ended the engagement. I’ll remind you of your zero tolerance policy—me not talking about Rory or sharing information about Rory’s life was your
edict
, Dalton. I was just following your parameters. And now the parameters have changed.”

“Seriously not fucking amused. Will you just get to the point?”

“I really have to point out that you and Rory will actually be in the same place for the first time in over three years?”

“Three years? Try
ten
years since she’s lived there. I’da been in Sundance six months ago if I’d known she was there without some other asshole’s ring on her finger,” he snarled.

“Whoa. Take a step back, wolverine. I’m telling you now because maybe you’re smart enough to handle it the right way this time.”

“This time?” Dalton repeated sharply. “Don’t make this out to be my fault. I offered her—”

“Don’t snap at me or interrupt me again or I will hang up, understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, keep talkin’.”

“Rory is my sister. You’re my business partner and one of the few people I trust. I hate that I’m pulled between you two. It’s time you manned up, Dalton. And don’t remind me that you did that once three years ago after you walked out on your own wedding. Even you can admit it was piss poor timing on your part.”

“But that bad timing didn’t stop
her
from giving me an edict, did it?”

“Like I’ve told you ten thousand times, that wasn’t an edict. Two years was a time line for Rory to finish grad school and a frame of reference for you to understand how important that was to her. You shouldn’t have taken it as gospel.”

“Then she shouldn’t have given me false hope.”

“Then you shouldn’t have turned tail and run again,” Sierra retorted. “Especially after you gave her false hope that things might finally change between you two.”

Like he needed that reminder. “Does she know about Casper?”

“Doubtful. She’s been out of town and she stays out of McKay gossip completely.”

Then Rory wouldn’t suspect Dalton was on his way back to Sundance. The element of surprise might work in his favor. “What’s the best way to approach her?”

“She bartends at the Twin Pines on the side. She’s working tonight. Anything else I can do for you besides making your day with this news?” Sierra asked sweetly.

Making his day? Hell, she’d made his life, because now he had a shot at getting the life he wanted. “Where are the keys for the house in town?”

A pause. Then, “Why?”

“I need a place to stay.”

Sierra heaved a put-upon sigh. “They’re under the back deck on a key hook. But there are two conditions before I’ll let you stay there. First, you don’t tell anyone I own it. No one.”

“Deal. And FYI, that’s why we have a silent partnership.” He’d supplied Sierra with some capital to start her own business last year and he also wanted it kept on the down low. “What’s the second condition?”

“I need a handyman to do some things. Okay, a lot of things. You’re handy, you’re there and voila—you’re selected. I’ll FedEx my repair list today but anything else you see that needs fixed just go ahead.”

“I’ll do it but I want to be reimbursed once a week for whatever I buy. You don’t get to pull that sixty day wait for payment bull crap like you money people usually do.”

She laughed. “That’s how we become money people. We hold on to money as long as possible. Be warned, some of what needs done will be major costs.”

“I ain’t a carpet installer,” he warned. “Nor will I put in windows.”

Sierra sighed again. “You
are
a handy handyman, right?”

“Guess you’ll have to trust me, huh?”

“I’ll be keeping tabs on you.” Another pause. “I’m sorry about your dad. If you need to talk about anything—except for Rory—call me.”

By the time Dalton crossed into Crook County hours later, he had a plan in place.

Patience. Perseverance. He would not blow this chance.

Rory Wetzler was his.
His
. She always had been, she always would be.

And he’d do whatever it took to prove it.

Chapter Two

“Rory, can I get two Bud Light drafts and a cherry Coke?”

“Coming right up.” She pulled the tap and dumped cherry juice over ice, aiming a stream of cola at the glass and swapping the full beer mug for an empty one. She lined the order on the bar top, then wandered to help a new customer.

Ten minutes later, she poured herself a Coke and leaned against the counter. Old man Duffy grinned at her.

“You’re scaring me, Duff. What’s that look for?”

“Missed you last week. Where were you?”

“At a two-day conference in Rock Springs.”

“Huh. I thought you mighta bailed on us. Can’t for the life of me understand why you’re still slinging drinks at the Twin Pines.”

“My job with the state is part-time. So while I’m waiting for a fulltime position to open up or a decent job in my field to magically become available, I’m working here to make ends meet.” Rory chomped on a piece of ice.

“It’s a waste. A gorgeous blonde amazon woman like you oughta be home every night, bein’ spoiled rotten by a man who appreciates and worships you.”

She laughed. “Now there’s a fantasy.”

“If I was fifty years younger…”

“I’d take you up on it.” And she would, no lie. Her love life—for lack of a better term—was a joke. She’d had one date in the last six months since she’d returned to Sundance. A pity date from the plumber who installed a new toilet at the Wyoming Natural Resources Council office where she worked.

She’d jumped out of the dating pool for almost a year when she’d been with Dillon. While she had no regrets about breaking off their engagement, she was lonely. She missed the companionship, even when that companionship was what had driven her away.

Rory kept telling herself that it was better to be dateless and alone than married to the wrong man. Some days it empowered her. Other days it depressed her.

Her love life wasn’t the only source of melancholy. Twenty-eight years old, with a bachelor’s and a master’s degree, and she was still slinging drinks for tips. She was still living in the same small hometown in the same small cabin she’d grown up in.

The more things changed the more they stayed the same.

But she’d had a full, exciting life in college, which made it worse, living in Dullsville, USA again. She’d joined several exchange programs during grad school, which had added almost two years to the time it took to earn her degree. But it’d been worth it, seeing the world outside of Wyoming. She’d spent half a year in South America studying tropical land conservation practices. She’d lived on a large cattle ranch on the big island of Hawaii. She’d mapped wildlife habitats and migration patterns in Alaska and Canada.

After graduation she’d interned for a year with the Wyoming State Parks Department. But the hiring freeze meant she didn’t land a permanent job after the internship ended. Her relationship with Dillon, her boss in the WSPD office in Cheyenne, had hit the skids at the same time, so taking a part-time position with the WNRC in Moorcroft had been a no brainer. Her living expenses were next to nothing. Working part-time gave her time to apply for jobs all over the country, with every agency under the sun.

Pity she hadn’t bothered sending off any applications in the past month—she could only take so much rejection. Maybe that was another sign of depression? Or boredom? She knew it wasn’t a sign of contentment.

At least her mom seemed happy to have her around, although she and her husband, Gavin, were joined at the hip and lips when they weren’t traveling across the country. Most of her friends in the area were married or in a steady relationship. Even her stepsister Sierra was all grown up and living in Arizona while she attended ASU. Rory got a little misty-eyed thinking about when Sierra had shown up at the Twin Pines with her dad and Rory’s mom on her twenty-first birthday so Rory could make her first legal drink. She missed that sweet little brat.

“Rory? You are a sight for my tired old eyes today.”

She looked up at a new customer and grinned. “If it isn’t Donald, my favorite bald man. What’s up?”

“The wind for one thing. Getting cold out there.” He rubbed his hands together.

“You want the usual?”

“Nope. I’m feeling daring tonight. How about you add an extra kick to my red beer? A couple slices of jalapeños, some of them peppers and a handful of olives.”

“You got it.” Just like that her mood brightened. Hard to pity yourself when faced with a cancer survivor who’d been through chemotherapy hell. But Donald was always upbeat. Her favorite part of bartending was talking to customers. If she was totally honest, she hadn’t taken the bartending gig because she needed money, but to stave off loneliness. Hard to believe she could be lonely in her hometown, but she did spend many of her nonworking hours by herself. At least slinging drinks gave her some social interactions.

Rory slid the drink in front of Donald. “Taste it. If it’s too spicy I’ll dump it out and start fresh.”

He sipped. Smacked his lips and grinned. “Perfect. Your talent is wasted here, Rory girl. You oughta be in New York City, making killer tips as head mixologist or whatever fancy name they’re calling bartenders these days.”

“I’ll take the compliment, but I’m too much of a bumpkin to ever work with sophisticated clientele and booze.”

“How’re things going at the day job? You been out massaging black-footed ferrets’ poor tired feet and polishing the horns on the horn-billed prairie grouse?”

She laughed. Like most lifelong Ag men, Donald poked fun at state wildlife and conservation agencies’ policies. But unlike other men she’d run across, he meant it tongue-in-cheek. “I can always hope that’s on my to-do list at the office tomorrow.”

“If you catch one, let me know. My wife’s got a killer recipe for poached grouse.”

Rory groaned at his pun.

An hour later the crowd had dwindled. She asked Naomi, the manager, to watch the bar so she could take a break.

As she left the bathroom, a hulking guy barreled toward her. His hair was as unkempt as his scraggly beard. She flattened herself against the wall to let him pass, but he boxed her in. At six foot one, she was used to towering over most men. But this ZZ Top impersonator topped her by two inches.

Then he was in her face.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know what you want, but I don’t have any cash on me and if you don’t back off, I’ll—”

“Rory.”

She froze. That deep voice. The way he said her name reminded her of… No. Couldn’t be him. He’d just up and disappeared from her life three years ago without a word and as far as she knew, no one knew where he’d gone.

“Sweet Jesus. You’re even prettier than I remembered.” He ran his knuckles down her jawline.

“Stop it.” Rory jerked her head away. “I don’t know who you think you are—”

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

She had a split second of recognition right before he said, “It’s me. Dalton.”

And then he kissed her.

When Dalton tried to deepen the kiss, Rory shifted. He automatically twisted his pelvis to protect his crotch—the crazy woman had kneed him in the ’nads before—so the swift punch to the gut caught him unprepared. He stumbled back a step and managed to duck when he saw Rory’s fist headed for his head.

Out of reflex he grabbed both her wrists in one hand, trapping her hands between them as he pinned her against the wall. “The gut punch and haymaker might lead me to believe you’re not as happy to see me as I am to see you.”

Rory’s breathing was choppy. Her pulse jumped erratically beneath his fingers. And her eyes, those stunning green eyes stared back at him with suspicion and just a little hatred.

Great.

What did you expect? That she’d fall into your arms?