Come On Over (11 page)

“I'm sure another trainer will appreciate it.” Trent shook his head. “Look, I'm not trying to play hard to get or squeeze you for more money.” He shrugged. “I'm really not interested.”

“I'll go six-figures as well as winning bonus,” Calhoun said with a smug lift of his chin. “How's that?”

Trent didn't even blink. He turned, gave her a tired smile and steered them toward the truck.

“No one else will offer you a better deal,” Calhoun called out, then added something completely undignified.

“Someone needs to tell him he's too old to be a sore loser,” Shelby muttered.

Trent stopped on the passenger side and opened the door for her. “Think I'm a fool for turning down all that money?”

“No.” She looked up at him. “I think you'd be nuts to work for an egomaniac who has more money than brains. For God's sake, he didn't have enough sense to be tactful.”

He waited until she'd slid onto the seat. And then he leaned in and kissed her.

His lips were warm and firm, patient. She had a feeling he'd intended to keep it light. But when she strained up to meet him partway, he became more insistent, the increasing pressure of his mouth matching her eager reaction. At the first touch of his tongue she parted her lips.

He slid inside, then cupped her jaw with his slightly calloused hand while his tongue made a thorough sweep. Good thing she was already sitting down. It was as if he'd found a magic switch. Her whole body jolted to life. She put a hand on his arm and the swell of his bicep under her palm sent a tingling sensation skipping down her spine.

Trent pulled back, his breathing ragged. “Let's get out of here before Calhoun turns a hose on us.”

She laughed, stopped abruptly. “God, he probably would do something like that, wouldn't he?” When she saw Trent staring at her mouth and making no move to plant himself behind the wheel, she said, “Well, get in already.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, and stole another quick kiss before climbing into the truck.

* * *

T
RENT
'
S
CARELESS
DISREGARD
for his promise to stay away from Shelby hit him hard. So did Shelby's reaction. The kiss had been a give and take, and, damn it, he wanted more. He seriously considered pulling the truck to the side of the road to finish what he'd started back at Castle Ranch. So much for being noble.

Even now, when he was focused on driving, the taste of her was still strong in his mouth. The feel of her soft skin still plagued his memory. He didn't know if he could trust his own word. Telling himself to stay away from her and believing he could do it had been a whole lot easier when she wasn't within reach.

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked, breaking the tension-filled silence.

“About?”

“Calhoun's offer.”

He shook his head. “I'd never work for someone so controlling. Hell, I've trained Thoroughbreds and Arabians, and I'd do it again. They're good horses. But he'd led me to believe he had quarter horses which he obviously doesn't, and that pissed me off.”

“I'm glad you won't work for him. Not that you need my approval.”

He thought about his ex-wife and how she would've been fawning all over the man. As Trent had eventually discovered, a guy's net worth was what impressed Dana. Power came a close second. Everything had been just fine between them when he'd been pulling in big bonuses. She would've called him three kinds of stupid for turning down Calhoun's money.

Shelby wasn't like that. But then he barely knew her. He and Dana had been married for a couple of years before he'd seen that side of her. Maybe he just hadn't been paying attention.

Anyway, he had no business comparing the two women. Man, he used to hate it when his dad had compared him to his older brother.

Naturally, Trent always ended up with the short end of the stick. Colby was nearly a carbon copy of their dad. Though he tended to stay with a job or project a good while longer. But ultimately, when things got rough, he'd quit just like their old man and move on to something else.

Trent was the exact opposite, and while he hadn't actually been called an overachiever, he knew that's what his dad believed. Maybe Trent's successes made him feel uncomfortable with his own failures.

He glanced at Shelby and caught her watching him. Probably curious about what had happened in Texas, but she didn't ask. She smiled before looking away.

“I have another quick stop to have a look at that colt. It'll take forty minutes, tops. After that, we'll head to Blackfoot Falls and see about getting you a fair booth. You still game?”

Her eyes flashed with excitement. “Totally.”

Three months.

Hell, he'd never make it.

11

S
INCE
THE
MAYOR
'
S
office was closed, they tried Abe's Variety next. Posters were up all over town about the fair. It seemed to be a bigger deal than Trent remembered. He'd last been to the fair when he'd visited Colby and his family, the year before his brother had given up on the Eager Beaver.

After the usual few minutes of jawing about nothing, Abe sent them to the Watering Hole. According to him, Sadie, the owner of the bar, had been helping the mayor's secretary with organizing this year's event. Made for some interesting speculation since Sadie was running for mayor in the November election, against Clarence Leland who'd remained in office, unopposed, for twelve years.

Trent imagined the situation gave everyone a lot to talk about. In fact, showing up with Shelby was likely to add a lot more spice to the gossip stew. Some things just never changed no matter how many years he'd been away.

Sadie had opened for business five minutes earlier, and she stood with her hands on her hips, facing the door when they walked into the bar.

Trent laughed. Shelby stared up at him with a puzzled frown. He knew right away Abe had already called Sadie with a heads-up, and Shelby would understand soon enough.

“The fair is next weekend,” Sadie said. “Three weeks later than usual because Mayor Leland, in all his finite wisdom—as in thimble-size—decided we should team up with Cooper County this year. And now you think you can waltz your sweet-talking self in here and flatter me into renting you a booth this late in the game?”

“Yep.” Trent grinned. “In a nutshell.”

“Well, you're right.” Sadie laughed, then swatted him away when he tried to kiss her cheek. She went behind the bar and pulled out a form from a manila folder wedged in next to the cash register. “Fill this out and give me forty bucks.”

Trent automatically reached into his pocket at the same time Shelby opened her purse.

“Now, this should be interesting.” Sadie leaned forward, resting her forearms on the bar, her face full of mischief and amusement.

He caught Shelby's warning look and lifted both hands in surrender. “Just a reflex.” He glanced at Sadie. “This is Shelby.”

The older woman nodded. “We met the other day at Abe's store.”

“Just forty dollars...really?” Shelby glanced at the form as she passed her the money. “The county must get a percentage of sales, then.”

“Nope. We try to keep it simple. We don't have many outside vendors come in. Mostly it's local folks and we like giving them the chance to make a little extra money.”

Shelby looked disappointed.

“What are you planning on selling?” Sadie asked.

“Jewelry. Nothing very expensive. I make the pieces myself.”

“You should do okay,” Sadie said. “No one else will have jewelry for sale. And Christmas will be here before you know it.”

“She'll do better than okay,” Trent said, completely convinced. “Wait till you see her jewelry. It's really something.”

Sadie gave him a soft, knowing smile. Shelby was staring at him with a wary expression. What had he said that justified that look? He was just being honest.

Behind him the door opened. A young cowboy Trent didn't recognize stuck his head inside as if looking for someone.

Sadie straightened. “You'll have to fill the form out right now and not mention this to anyone,” she said in a hushed voice. “You missed the deadline by two weeks.”

“I don't want you getting in trouble over this.”

“Nah, she won't. Sadie's gonna be our next mayor,” Trent said and grinned at her snort of disgust.

“I'll tell you what...” Sadie slid a pen across the bar to Shelby. “The idea of giving that old blowhard a run for his money was a whole lot more appealing than actually running against him. Sometimes I think that man hasn't got the brains of a grasshopper.”

Trent didn't know the guy, and while he'd always liked Sadie, he couldn't picture her as mayor. But then he'd lived most of his adult life close to Dallas and maybe in a place the size of Blackfoot Falls, Sadie was just the person the town needed.

“I didn't even ask...you two want anything to drink?”

Shelby looked up from the form. “A cola would be great, or anything with caffeine.”

Sadie smiled, nodded. “Trent?”

“Much as I'd like a beer, I'll take a soda. We have to hit the road as soon as Shelby finishes. I've got a colt waiting in the trailer.”

“You just buy him?”

Nodding, he dug into his pocket. “From the Landers over at the Whispering Pines.”

“Good people. I heard they have top-notch stock.” Sadie set the colas in front of them. “I haven't seen Violet for a while. How's the old girl doing?”

“Ornery as ever,” Trent said, and saw a smile twitch at the corners of Shelby's mouth as she kept writing.

“Tell you the truth, I'm glad you're back and not paying attention to that silly curse,” Sadie said. “Violet shouldn't be living out there alone.”

Shelby's head came up, her gaze narrowed. “What curse?”

“I'm pretty sure I mentioned it to you,” Trent said and took a sip to hide his amusement.

“But I knew you were trying to get rid of me so I didn't believe you.”

Chuckling, Sadie traded glances between the two of them. “Don't worry, honey. It's nothing but nonsense anyway.”

“I'd still like to hear it.”

Sadie shrugged. “It goes back a few generations. Has something to do with anyone trying to make a go of the Eager Beaver being doomed to fail. Don't know who started it. Do you, Trent?”

“I heard it might've been my great-granddad.” Trent glanced at Shelby. It only now occurred to him that it could've been her great-grandfather since he'd left angry. But he wasn't about to say anything.

“Of course your pa had horrible luck trying to make a living off the place. And so did your brother, bless his heart.” Sadie shook her head. “I'm not saying there's anything to the curse, mind you...”

Trent drained his cola. The subject was closed as far as he was concerned. He couldn't afford to think he might be the next Kimball who failed. “You about finished?” he asked Shelby. “Time to get on the road.”

She looked blankly at him, before giving him an absent nod. After checking two more boxes on the form, she passed the paper and pen to Sadie. “Thanks so much for letting me have the booth. I promise not to tell a soul,” she said as she slid off the stool.

Sadie snorted a laugh. “Well, you'll never fit in around here.”

Although Shelby smiled, something was obviously bothering her.

Sadie stuck the form in the manila folder, then turned back to see Trent pulling money out of his pocket. “Oh, for pity's sake, all you had were colas. Put that away.”

“No, ma'am, we can't have it appear that you're bribing voters.” Smiling at her eye-roll, he slid a ten-dollar bill under his glass and noticed Shelby had left something, too. Which was unnecessary but none of his business. “Good luck with the campaigning.”

“Thank you again,” Shelby said, following him to the door.

He held it open for her, wondering what had her worrying her lower lip and looking plain ol' depressed.

Two cowboys who'd been about to enter the bar stepped aside for them. The taller man tipped his Stetson at Shelby. Both of them stared like idiots. She favored them with a polite smile as she passed, then continued down the sidewalk oblivious to their fascination with her backside.

Trent almost said something. But that would be dumb. Not only did he have no right, but how many times had he done the same thing, himself? Shelby hadn't seen them anyway, so why make matters worse? He did the next best thing and walked directly behind her, cutting off their view.

A minute later she stopped and looked from side to side, before spinning around to face him. “Where were you?”

“Right here.” He dug out his keys. “Look, if you'd like to hang around town for a while, I could take the colt and trailer back to the Eager Beaver and pick you up later.”

She'd already started shaking her head before he finished. “Thanks, but I have a lot of work to do for the fair.” Her smile was for him alone. “If you don't mind, I'd really like to go home.”

He didn't miss the slight catch in her voice at the end. He also didn't miss that he might have already crossed from none of his business to very much his concern.

* * *

A
FTER
TAKING
A
short walk with Mutt, Shelby stopped at the equipment shed for a peek inside. It was definitely roomier than she'd imagined and cleaner, with a raised wood plank floor to keep the contents dry.

On the drive to Castle Ranch two days earlier, Trent had assured her there was adequate space for her belongings. She missed sleeping in her own bed, which she decided would go into her room along with the cherry nightstand and matching dresser. It would be crowded but she didn't mind. Living out of a suitcase was starting to get to her.

“I heard you got movers coming tomorrow.”

Startled by Violet's voice, Shelby jerked back and banged her head on the doorframe.

“Ouch.” The woman's rusty cackle turned into a brief cough. “Thought you might've heard me come up behind you.”

Shelby made sure she'd cleared the doorway before turning around. And caught a nasty whiff of Violet's pipe. Her cough sounded worrisome, yet she was still puffing away.

“The delivery truck should arrive midmorning,” Shelby said and rubbed the side of her head. “I don't have much so they shouldn't be here long, but I'll make sure they don't block the driveway.”

“Hell, they could be here all day. Won't make no difference to me.” Violet moved closer to the shed for a better look inside. “You storing your things out here?” she asked, frowning.

“Some of them... Trent offered the third bedroom.”

“Did he now?” Violet looked oddly pleased.

“Yes, he's been very accommodating. He even helped me get a booth at the fair so I can sell my jewelry.”

Violet eyed Shelby's ragged jeans and disgraceful fingernails. “You make the baubles yourself?”

“I do.” She plucked at her faded pink T-shirt. “I've been working a lot trying to increase my inventory.”

Mutt returned from chasing one thing or another. Sniffing Violet's pocket, he stared up at her with hopeful eyes and a wagging tail.

“Always looking for a handout, ain't you?” There was no hiding her fondness for the dog. She dug deep in the oversize coveralls and gave him a giant Milk-Bone. “Now git.”

Shelby laughed.

“The dog's a pain in the neck just like his master,” Violet grumbled.

“Uh-huh. You know I don't buy this act, right? You adore both of them.”

“Baloney. Wait till you've been here awhile—”

Shelby sighed. Awhile meant three months tops for her, and if she was any kind of decent human being she wouldn't put Trent through the inconvenience of an unwanted guest for that long.

“What was that sigh for?”

“I should put my things in storage. Trent is being great, and I'm being horrible and selfish. I know I don't have a claim here.” Shelby massaged her left temple. “We all know it.”

Violet removed the pipe from her mouth and slanted a glance toward the house. “He inside?”

“I think so.”

The woman's troubled frown rested on Shelby. “I need to get something off my chest. But before I do, you've got to swear you won't repeat it.” Violet paused, her solemn expression making Shelby wary. “I mean it. I want you to swear on your great-granddaddy's grave.”

Shelby tensed. What if the woman was ill? What if keeping her secret meant life or death? What if—

“Well, all right,” Violet said with a resigned nod. “I respect a person who won't give their word too freely.”

“Wait.” Shelby couldn't just let her walk away. Violet clearly needed an ear. “You can talk to me. And I promise whatever it is stays between us.”

“You sure? It'll be mighty tempting to run straight to Trent.”

Now Shelby was just plain curious. “I'm sure.”

Violet's eyes bore into hers. “It's about the Eager Beaver. I believe the ranch belongs to you, Shelby Foster. And in ten days I'll be able to prove it.”

* * *

S
HELBY
SHOULD
'
VE
BEEN
doing a jig. Or grinning from ear to ear. At the very least, she should feel relieved knowing she would have a roof over her head for as long as she wanted to stay in Blackfoot Falls.

Still shocked by what Violet had confided, Shelby entered the house through the front door and glanced around. The leather recliner and couch, the dark wood coffee table, the large widescreen TV pretty much summed up the living room. And left little doubt a man lived here. Even thinking about where to put her own furniture felt wrong.

Maybe Violet was mistaken. Four generations of Kimballs had lived here, a fact verified by several unbiased townspeople. How weird was it that Shelby almost hoped Violet had gotten confused.

Another thing that didn't add up was the woman's lack of concern for Trent. Those two shared a fondness for each other, and no argument could convince Shelby otherwise. Violet wouldn't want to see him lose out. Maybe she simply expected Shelby to do the right thing, whatever that was.

She heard a low murmur coming from the kitchen. Trent was probably watching a YouTube video on his laptop. He did that a lot when he wasn't working outside. Mostly, though, he kept the computer in his room where she wouldn't walk in and surprise him.

She was fairly certain it was the same video that he'd watched over and over again, and she thought she understood what compelled him to do so.