Buchanan's Pride (15 page)

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Authors: Pamela Toth

BOOK: Buchanan's Pride
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Leah frowned and looked out the front window herself, but her old truck was nowhere in sight. Where the devil was he? As usual, she had chores waiting at home, dinner to fix and two loads of laundry to do. Impatiently she retrieved her belongings and then she waited five minutes more before calling the ranch to see if he'd forgotten her.
The phone rang eight times before she replaced the receiver. A headache was forming behind her eyes and dread sank her stomach like a stone. Where could he be? Would he have left town without saying anything? Abandoned her car at home or left it at the airport with a curt note?
No, she couldn't believe that of him, not unless Taylor Buchanan had threatened him. The idea made her furious. If John had been to see him, could Buchanan have used his influence to run John out of town? Would Sheriff Brody have gone along with that?
“Need a ride?” Amy asked, her expression brimming with friendly curiosity. “I'll be done in a few minutes and I'll be glad to run you home. Carter has a dinner meeting, so I'm on my own, anyway. I was just going to grab a burger at the Rooster.”
Leah hesitated, biting her lip.
“If he's coming from your place, he'll have to drive right by us,” Amy continued. “It's not as though we'd miss him or anything.”
Leah glanced at the wall clock. It was now almost twenty minutes since the end of her shift. He had the number; he could have called to tell her he was running late. If he showed up here and she was already gone, it would serve him right.
“Thanks,” she said decisively. “If you really don't mind, I'd be happy for the lift”
“Do you remember Carter's brother, Phil?” Amy asked as they left Caulder Springs behind. “The one who was working on a ranch near Cheyenne?”
“Sure,” Leah replied distractedly, studying each oncoming car. “I think we were in school at the same time.”
“He called last week. He lost his job and he's coming home.” Amy rolled her eyes. “I think he's expecting to stay with us until he finds something. He's got a camper on his truck and I've already turned the spare room into a nursery, but I've been treasuring this privacy before the baby comes.”
“For your sake, I hope he finds a job right away,” Leah replied. Vaguely she remembered Phil. No big intellectual. Athletic, though, and nice.
“Could you hire him?” Amy asked excitedly. “Just until he finds something else? He'd stay in his camper and I know he wouldn't expect much in wages.”
Leah stared. “Hire him?” she echoed.
“Sure.” Amy warmed to her idea. “I know you've got that other guy working for you—”
“John,” Leah supplied.
“Whatever.” She waved her hand expressively. “Phil could help him. Lord knows you've got enough work around there to keep two guys busy.” She looked over at Leah and grinned. “You'd be a lady of leisure.”
Leah guffawed. “I don't think so.”
Amy's face fell, and then she brightened again. “He's taking some time to see the sights on his way home,” she continued. “Won't you at least think about it? You've got a little while to decide before he gets here.”
There was no point in refusing. “Sure,” Leah agreed, knowing she couldn't afford two ranch hands, even if one of them wasn't getting paid. She'd still have to feed them both.
But what if her worst suspicions were confirmed and John
had
left? Or maybe Buchanan had taken him to the family bosom, so to speak, and offered to let him bunk there. Not that she had a clue as to how long he was planning to stay in Colorado. He had a life in Seattle. Once he left, would she ever see him again?
He was a Buchanan, so why did she care?
Beside her, Amy had started chattering about her favorite subject, the baby. All Leah had to do was to tune in with half an ear and say uh-huh occasionally.
Maybe her friend was right and she should seriously consider hiring Phil, at least if he was willing to work as cheap as Amy thought.
“Is this where you found that guy John?” Amy asked as she slowed down and turned onto Leah's road.
Leah pointed. “Right over there.”
Amy slowed even more, staring at the spot as if she expected him to rise from the weeds and wave Leah nearly wished he would.
What she really wanted was to see the red pickup parked in the yard, but it was empty.
“I wonder what's happened to your truck,” Amy said as she pulled in front of the house. “I kind of hoped to catch a glimpse of this guy.”
“Is that why you offered me a ride?” Leah forced herself to tease. “Because of my lured help?”
“I confess,” Amy admitted with a laugh as she braked the car. “Even married pregnant ladies who adore their husbands like a change of scenery once in a while. Just don't tell Carter I said that or I'll deny it.”
Carter worshipped the ground beneath Amy's feet. Both she and Leah knew it. Reluctantly Leah invited her into the house, trying to remember what shape she'd left the kitchen in that morning. The last thing she felt like was talking, even to Amy, but perhaps the other woman's company would distract her from worrying about John.
“I made a stew in the Crock-Pot this morning,” she offered. “I can bake biscuits and throw together a salad.” Too bad if there was none left when John finally came rolling in. Perhaps he was eating with his rich relatives, anyway.
“Sorry, hon,” Amy replied. “I've got a craving for a bacon burger from the Rooster, and nothing else will do. You don't know how powerful a pregnant woman's cravings can be, but someday you'll find out and then you'll understand.”
Leah's smile felt wobbly around the edges. Would she—or was she destined to remain alone forever? After John, would any man be able to capture her heart? The answer was one she didn't want to face.
“For now I guess I'll have to take your word for it,” she said as she got out of the car. Immediately Duke came running up to thrust his wet nose in her hand. He shuddered all over, never certain she'd come back again when she was gone.
Leah thanked Amy again for the ride home.
“Just think about giving Phil a job,” she replied. “Just for a little while.” She rolled her eyes. “When you're married to someone like Carter, three's a crowd.” Her giggle was followed by a blush on her round cheeks. “He's such a stud, if you know what I mean.”
Despite her own dark thoughts, Leah had to smile at her friend. “I've been married,” she drawled. “I can figure it out.”
 
Leah had eaten stew and salad, then headed to the barn to do the evening chores, when she finally heard her truck coming down the driveway. It was growing dark outside as she glanced out the window, determined not to rush out as possessively as a schoolgirl with a crush. Even so, relief washed over her like an ocean wave, tumbling her emotions until she was totally confused.
How could she feel this way about a Buchanan? She'd hated them for so long, and now John was one of them. Instinct told her that was where he'd been today, being welcomed into a pit of vipers!
It was only a couple minutes later when she heard John's footsteps on the barn floor. He called her name. Before she had time to sort through her scrambled feelings and compose herself, his head appeared over the stall door.
“I'm really sorry,” he said, a regretful expression on his handsome face. “I'm afraid I forgot all about the time. How did you get home?”
Leah stopped and rested her folded hands on the handle of the shovel. “Amy brought me.” She'd be hog-tied and dragged behind a runaway horse before she would admit to the tiniest smidgen of curiosity about where he'd been. “Have a nice day?” she asked instead as she tossed a shovelful of manure into the wheelbarrow.
He was silent for so long that she finally had to look at him. When she did, his expression was impossible to read.
“You probably figured out where I was,” he said cautiously.
Her heart sank. Somehow she'd hoped—ridiculous as it was—that he'd forget the whole thing and allow
her
to forget who he was.
She ducked her head, examining a seam on her work glove that was starting to split. “I probably have,” she agreed. Finally she could stand it no longer. “How'd it go?” she asked, forcing herself to look him straight in the eye.
Funny, he looked the same as he had when she'd held him in her arms. He hadn't grown horns.
Hands on hips, he looked everywhere but at her. “It went well,” he said gruffly. “A little rocky at first, but they seem like nice people.”
Leah didn't know how to feel. Should she be happy for him? All she wanted to do was to walk over and lay her head on his chest, feel his arms around her. Tears leaked into her eyes and she blinked them away. Danged if she would humiliate herself in front of him.
“They?” she asked, voice tight.
He blew out a breath. “You and I have to talk,” he said, darting a glance at her and then away again. “There's a lot I'd like to tell you, if you want to hear it. There's some you don't know and something I'd like to ask you, too.”
“As long as it's not would I go over there to dinner with you,” she replied without thinking.
He looked startled, and then he grinned. “Nah, I know how stubborn you can be.”
He'd been standing just inside the open stall door. Now he surprised her by circling the nearly full wheelbarrow and gripping her shoulders. “I may be a Buchanan by birth,” he said softly, “and maybe I'm just a dull businessman and not the mysterious drifter you thought I was, but I'm still me.” He dipped his head. “And I'm still crazy about you,” he added right before his mouth closed over hers.
He was right, she realized hazily as her senses heated. No matter who he was, his kisses still stirred her deeply, his presence still made her heart soar. The only question—for both of them—was whether that would be enough to overcome everything keeping them apart.
Chapter Twelve
J
ohn led Leah outside, stopping her when they reached the front steps of her house. “Let's sit down,” he suggested. Once they were settled, he took her hand.
Leah's pulse rate was still tripping along in double time, thanks to the kiss they'd just shared. How could everything be so changed and yet so much the same? She could almost feel her father's disapproval.
How can you let a Buchanan set foot on my property? he'd demand. So many times he'd told her that Taylor Buchanan had been responsible for his downfall, talking out of turn instead of keeping his mouth shut—deliberately going out of his way to get her father fired. No way to treat a neighbor, he'd insisted, his voice sometimes slurring the words.
Guiltily, Leah wondered whether her father was spinning in his grave right now. She pushed away the idea before John cleared his throat nervously.
“They aren't bad people,” he began.
Leah snatched her hand back. “You've known them, what, one afternoon?” she demanded. “I told you what they did to my father, to my family. What gives you the right to blow that off, now that you've found out you're all kin?”
“I'm not blowing it off,” he denied impatiently, then leaned back on his elbows and sighed. “There's something you should know. Taylor Buchanan has been subsidizing your mother's care.”
It took Leah most of a minute to absorb what he'd said, but the words still didn't make any sense. “What did you say?” she finally had to ask.
Around them the air was cooling down, the day ambling to a close as the sky overhead slowly dimmed. Everything was the same as usual, so why did she feel her world had suddenly tilted at some crazy angle?
John turned to look directly at her. “Taylor isn't the monster you think he is,” he said. “He told me what happened in that arena with your father.”
A nameless fear clawed at Leah's throat and tears filled her eyes. Something bad was coming, she could sense it. She leaped to her feet. “I don't want to discuss Buchanan's lies with you.”
John captured her wrist. “Come on, honey, sit back down,” he coaxed. “It's time to deal with this, to face the truth and let it go.”
The endearment stopped her in her tracks, even as her sense of loyalty toward her father was pushing her to cover her ears with her hands.
Childish. Like still wanting his approval when he was no longer around to give it. And worrying about his opinion long past the time it should have stopped mattering so much.
She looked into John's eyes, at the steady gaze staring straight back at her, into her soul. Even when she hadn't known who he was, she'd recognized on some basic level that he was the man with the power to break her heart into little bitty pieces that might never mend.
He dredged up a smile of encouragement. Still scared, Leah sat back down.
“First tell me about my mother,” she demanded.
He steepled his fingers and studied them as though fascinated. “Taylor never wanted you to find out. He'll be upset with me, but I think you need to know. Apparently when she first got bad, the doctor knew you wouldn't be able to pay for the cost of her care plus the counseling she had back then. The licensed care centers cost the earth, and even for her to stay with Irene and Rosemary was more than the doctor figured you could afford, so he went to Taylor.”
Humiliated, Leah curled her hands into fists. “Doc Hershaw had no right—” she began heatedly.
John touched her arm, but she flinched away and he dropped his hand. How dare they!
“Perhaps none of them had the right,” John agreed, “but Taylor had approached the doctor when he first heard your mom was having troubles. You wouldn't accept his help in any way, but he still wanted to do something. You would have refused if you'd known, and then what would you have done? You couldn't care for your mother alone.”
“I would have figured out something,” she insisted stubbornly. “Anyway, he was only trying to appease his own conscience.”
Duke trotted across the yard, his tongue lolling out like a pink ribbon. When he spotted them, he came over to Leah and sniffed her hand. John patted his head absently, but Duke didn't flinch. Leah had always suspected it had been a man who'd abused him and she'd never thought he'd have the courage to trust one again. While she watched, Duke rolled on his back so John could scratch his belly.
“Maybe Taylor was only trying to help a friend,” John suggested. “How much do you know about that day in the arena? The day the bull rider was killed.”
“It wasn't Daddy's fault,” she shot back, just the way she'd defended him so many times before. She wanted to get up again, to run away from the porch and the sound of his voice, but her knees were shaky and they refused to cooperate. “He was too far away. He couldn't get to the rider in time.”
John's arm tightened around her shoulders. “He was drunk,” he said bluntly. “His reactions were slow and he was out of position.”
“That's not true!” She'd heard the accusations, of course, as well as the rumors, but her own father had looked her in the eye, crossed his heart with his finger and told her none of it was true. “Taylor lied!”
John continued on, like a bulldozer determined to flatten her. “It wasn't a lie. Taylor saw him drinking earlier. When he heard your father was bullfighting that day, he tried to stop him, but he was too late.”
John ran a hand over his face. “You know it's true, you know he was a drinking man. Taylor was his friend. He had no reason to lie.”
Now Leah did clap her hands over her ears. This time, when she got to her feet, her knees held.
“I've heard enough,” she said. “You may believe Buchanan's tall tales, but that doesn't mean I have to.” She made a sweeping gesture. “He wanted the land, that was his only reason for what he said.” She swallowed hard, ignoring the pain in her chest, the pain her heart was making as it shattered. Tears ran down her cheeks as she faced John.
“I want you off my land,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I don't want you to come back.”
Ignoring the stunned expression on his face, uncaring that he didn't even have transportation, she brushed past him up the steps, snapping her fingers for Duke to join her, and went in the house. To her relief, the dog jumped up and followed her. After she locked the front door behind them, she leaned against it, half-afraid John would try to come in after her, and listened for the sound of his boot steps on the porch.
When she didn't hear anything, she finally peeked out the window in time to see him disappearing into the barn. A few minutes later he came back out, carrying his duffel bag. It was still light enough to see his grim expression. Without so much as a glance at the house, he started walking down the narrow road.
It was at that point the deep, tearing sobs began clawing their way up Leah's throat and filling her mouth with the taste of bitterness. Crossing the room, she lay down on the couch and wept for everything she had lost, her father, her innocence and the man she loved.
 
For the last two days, John had been staying with the Buchanans. The situation was decidedly awkward, but Ashley had gone a long way toward making him feel welcome when he showed up on their doorstep looking for a ride to town. He had spent today on the range with Taylor and now he was cleaning up for dinner with the family. He'd met the children, twin boys and two younger girls. They seemed like good kids.
John guessed Taylor to be a quiet man by nature, but as they rode side by side, he made an effort to talk. Slowly they were filling in blanks, getting to know each other. If Taylor resented the reason for John's existence, he managed not to let it show.
John's biggest worry was Leah and how she was doing without him. Had she hired someone else?
“She doesn't accept help easily,” Taylor had said of her. “She was always a nice girl, shy and sweet. We trusted her to watch the kids and they liked her.” He shook his head sadly. “Her daddy was my friend, but he was a rodeo burn, liked his booze, came home when he felt like it. After he gave up the bullfighting, I think his drinking got worse. Leah idolized him, used to follow him around after her grandpa died, but he never paid her much mind from the way he talked.”
“What about her mother?” John had asked.
“She was a shadow, never stood up to him. Before he died she was always moody and quiet. She kept to herself. After he was killed she just got worse.” He shrugged. “Leah needed her, but she shut herself off from everyone, even her own daughter. Leah blamed herself. I can understand why she hangs on to that land so hard. I almost hated to buy that section from her, but she wouldn't take a handout. Without the money she might have lost it all.”
Now John glanced in the guest-room mirror and combed his hair. He'd have to go home soon. He'd been away longer than he'd planned and Steve needed him. Before he left, though, he had to see Leah one more time. Despite the way they'd parted company, there was still something he had to ask her.
 
 
Leah was sitting at the reference desk putting overdue notices in envelopes when Amy came by with the carpet sweeper. She was going on maternity leave in a week and Leah would miss her around the library.
“You should see the hunk who just came in the front door,” Amy said under her breath. “If I wasn't as big as a house, I'd be over there flirting with him myself.” She looked at Leah expectantly. “Why don't you go in my place?”
Leah managed a tired smile. “Nice try, Amy. Don't start fixing me up or I'll send your brother-in-law back to you.” She'd hired Phil the day before. His pickup and camper were parked behind the barn and right now he was probably checking heifers in the south pasture.
Amy made a sound of disbelief. “Don't make me laugh. You need Phil more than I need privacy.”
Leah was about to reply when she looked up to see John bearing down on her with a determined expression. Instinct told her he wasn't at the library looking for a book, but she did her best to ignore the bubble of excitement that rose inside her.
“Mama mia,” Amy muttered, cheeks growing pink. “That's the dude I was talking about. Talk about USA prime.”
“It's just your hormones,” Leah replied as she rose to meet John. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation in front of an audience, even a close friend like Amy.
“May I help you?” she asked coolly, Heading him off before he got to the desk.
Darn, but he sure looked good in dark jeans and a pink-and-white-striped shirt she didn't recognize. In his hand he held a brand-new tan Resistol hat. His gaze swept over her work outfit of straight beige skirt and pale blue tailored blouse and then settled on her face.
“I need to talk to you.” He ignored Amy and the scattering of library patrons as if they didn't exist.
Leah lifted her chin. “I'm working.”
Irritation flashed in his eyes and was quickly squelched. “I know that, but I don't have a lot of time. Can you take a break or something?”
All she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him, to feel his warmth and strength, to breathe in his scent and beg him to come back to the ranch. Instead she glanced at the big round wall clock “I could probably take my break a little early.”
His grim expression relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”
For the first time, she noticed the knuckles on the hand holding his hat were pale, as if he was hanging on tight. Was seeing each other as stressful for him as it was for her? Then why had he come?
Leah turned to Amy, who had dropped any pretense of sweeping and was watching the two of them with interest instead.
“If anyone asks,” Leah told her with a darting glance in the direction of her boss's office, “I've gone on my break.”
Amy bobbed her head as she stared at John with a bemused expression. “Sure thing.”
“Let's go outside,” Leah suggested, eager to get him out of the library before Amy said anything to embarrass her. “There's a little park across the street.” The sun was shining, but there was a cooling breeze. It was the kind of spring day that made Leah long to be outdoors all the time.
John tagged along with her without making any attempt to talk. When they got to the park, she headed for an empty bench in the shade of a huge cottonwood tree. A hedge gave them a relative measure of privacy.
“This okay?” she asked, curious about what he wanted to discuss. Maybe he was here to tell her he was leaving. She had known all along it was coming at some point, but her stomach still tightened with distress at the idea.
He glanced around. “It's fine.” They sat down with a foot of space between them. She wanted to ask where he'd spent the last couple of days, and to apologize for ordering him off her ranch the way she had. The last thing he'd probably wanted to do was to hitchhike. She would have liked to tell him she'd done a lot of thinking since he'd gone, but pnde and fear kept her silent.

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