Riding for Love (A Western Romance) (4 page)

“This isn’t over, Eve. Good night, Max. Nice meeting you.”

Taking his mother’s elbow, he turned toward a table waiting for them across the room. He seated his mother, wishing their table were situated elsewhere so he wouldn’t see the other couple.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise,” Rose said after the waiter took their drink orders.

Denton grunted. “I certainly wouldn’t call it pleasant.” He tipped his head toward their table. “Who is he, anyway? Are they an item? Are they close?”

“Let’s see. His name is Maxwell Phillip.” She stopped when Denton snorted. “What?”

“Maxwell.” He took a sip of the wine the waiter delivered. “What the hell kind of name is Maxwell? Sounds like a cup of coffee or something.”

“Well, right now, you’re behaving just like a teenager,” Rose chastised. “Better yet, you sound like a child who can’t think of any other way to put down a person, so he attacks their name.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t know the guy, so his name
is
all I can put down. Tell me about him so I have something else to complain about.” He’d need more ammunition so he would have a reason to tear the joker apart limb by limb.

Denton had been surprised by Max’s overpowering handshake. He’d resisted the urge to squeeze back, but something came over him and he couldn’t resist. Was there something more to Max and Eve’s friendship? Lovers or friends?

The hell with squeezing his hand harder, he wished he’d ripped the guy’s arm off.
He
was the one who should be holding Eve’s hand. Thanks to his stupidity years ago, he no longer had the right.

When she’d crossed the room, he’d nearly lost his teeth. His memories remained teenage ones. She had been a cute a girl who’d made him horny. Now she was a beautiful woman and he was, well, horny. He’d reminded himself to breathe when she appeared wearing an above-the-knee, loose-fitting black dress. Where a tight-fitting dress probably would have shown off her narrow waist and full breasts, this one swirled around her as she walked, making a man wonder what delights hid beneath the dress. She’d certainly matured well.

From where he sat, he had a clear view of Eve and tried futilely not to stare. His first real love was here and even prettier and sexier than he remembered. The long sleeves and scooped neckline of her dress emphasized her graceful neck. She crossed her legs and her dress rode up past her knees showing off their long, athletic length.

Over the years, he’d dreamed about those legs wrapped around him. In school, she’d usually worn her hair in a ponytail, but tonight the dark tresses hung in a loose, wavy style. He imagined lifting the thick mass and running kisses down her neck. She laughed, tossing back her head, showing brief glimpses of delicate earrings twinkling at her ears.

He was getting aroused. Not a good situation with his mother sitting across the table. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice.

“Quite a surprise, isn’t she?”

Damn, no such luck. His mother was way too observant. He carefully avoided her gaze as he took a sip from his drink.

“Who?”

Rose arched an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile. “Please, Denton. Give me a little credit. You can’t keep your eyes off Eve.”

He resisted shooting her another glance as the waiter placed their salads on the table.

“Admit it, dear.”

Denton stabbed at the lettuce with so much force he was surprised the plate didn’t split in two. “All right, I admit it. Why won’t she agree to talk to me?”

Rose gave an unladylike sniff. “For an intelligent man, you sure seem to have a few brain cells missing.” She jabbed her fork in her son’s direction. “Why on earth should she want to talk to you?”

“Well, enough years have passed you’d think she’d be over it by now.”

“Are you?”

He paused, the fork halfway to his mouth. “Point taken. I can tell by the way you’re acting you won’t be happy until I admit I made the biggest mistake of my life.” He set his fork down on the salad plate. “Hell, yes, I regret it. I regret hurting Eve. I regret hurting you and everyone else mixed up in the mess.

“I didn’t know I’d feel this way if I happened to see her again, and I don’t know how to fix it. I see her sitting with this man and I want to roar out my frustrations.” He gave up trying to eat and tossed his napkin on the table. “I’m sorry, Mom. I need to get out of here.”

Rose reached over and grabbed Denton’s hand. “If it helps any, I do understand, dear.”

After throwing some money on the table, shooting one last glance at the woman who’d haunted his dreams for too many years, Denton guided his mother around the tables. Rose stopped just as they were leaving the dining area and looked pointedly at Eve.

“And if it’ll help, even though he’d like to be, Max is not Eve’s sweetheart.”

With a slightly lighter heart, Denton took his mother’s elbow and left the restaurant.

From the corner of her eye, Eve watched Rose and Denton leave their table. She resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief when they were out of sight as the tension in her body eased. Max took her hand.

“Eve?”

With difficulty, she drew her thoughts back to Max, having listened to only half of his conversation. She laughed when she thought the timing fit and responded with, hopefully, appropriate comments.

“Eve. Will you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

Evidently she hadn’t been successful. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Max tossed his napkin on the table. “Oh, come on, Eve. I’m not blind. There was so much tension in the air I’m surprised the waiters weren’t walking into it and knocking themselves out.”

She didn’t answer, but stared at her plate of untouched food.

“Eve, I’d like to think I’m your friend, so talk to me.”

The look of compassion on his face surprised her. Would he offer only friendship or something more?

“Please.” Max leaned back in his chair and toyed with his wineglass. “I hoped you understood I’ve wanted more than friendship with you.”

Eve leaned across the table and stopped his hand. “Max, I’m sorry.”

He moved his hand away from hers. “After seeing your reaction to Denton tonight, I now know he’s the reason. Talk to me.”

“Ah, Max,” Eve said sadly. “It’s an old story, one I hate to delve into.”

Max played with his glass again. “Even an old story can cause a lot of pain. Talking may help you find closure and we can move on as a couple.”

Her mouth curved. “As friends, Max? I need you as a friend. Right now, nothing more.”

“Okay, if that’s what you need.”

Heart heavy, Eve relayed the events from ten years ago and her mood improved as she unburdened herself. Her parents never cared to listen to her problems, and even though Rose became a friend, by unspoken agreement, the subject never came up.

Throughout the narration, Max watched her twist the pearl ring around and around. He thought if he took it off and set it on the table, the ring would spin in circles trying to unwind. Eve’s eyes welled with tears. At the end of the tale, he wanted to beat Denton up for hurting her.

“Is he the one who gave you the ring?”

Eve nodded.

“You’ve worn it all these years?”

“Yes.”

“Eve, have you ever heard his side?”

“No. He never called or wrote or anything. Just up and moved to California. Until the other day, I haven’t seen hide or hair of the man.”

Max reached across the table and tipped her chin up. “Seems like you’ve been living in emotional limbo for too long.” For the second time in a week someone said, “Well, my dear, maybe it’s time you find out his side of the story and get on with your life.”

Even while telling her to find out the truth from Denton, Max hoped Eve wouldn’t get beyond her anger and take up with the man again. In more ways than one, he needed Eve, and he intended to get her.

Chapter 4

A week later, Eve threw her pencil across the massive oak desk sitting in the middle of her main-floor office, bouncing it off a ledger piled haphazardly on a stack of unpaid bills. Lord, she hated bookwork. She’d rather muck out every one of the ten horse stalls with a garden trowel than sit for hours entering deposits and checks into her accounts book. Even Tom, who thought a computer chip was some newfangled way of playing cards, kept trying to get her to computerize, which said something about the state of her books.

She slid the pile of bills out from under the ledger and methodically slipped her letter opener through the top of each one, removing the bills and placing them in a neat pile. She glared at the stack, and her black, up-to-date, state-of-the art, top-notched computer system now sitting on the corner of her desk gathering dust.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to use one. She simply hated the darn thing. It seemed she managed to mess things up the second her fingers hit the keys. Her brain wanted one thing and her fingers another. If she wanted to indent, she got paragraph symbols. Lines appeared out of nowhere and spell check came up with words she’d never heard of. Her roommate in college said she was technologically challenged. So whenever she thought about turning it on, the hair on her arms rose and her skin prickled with frustration. Adding numbers to the equation didn’t help.

Then there was her cell phone. Another fancy item she could answer and make calls with, but she ignored the texting, games, and music her friends were so involved in.

Eve stared out the picture window. A warm spring breeze flowed through one of the side windows, flipping the edges of her perfect pile of bills. Laughter from her employees drifted into the room. She’d give anything to be with them, getting ready for the first customers. Somehow she didn’t think she would be able to convince any of them to switch places with her. They loved working outside as much as she did.

Right now, it didn’t make sense to hire someone to do work she should be able to do herself. Even though doing fairly well, the business was at the point with too much work for her current employees, but not enough money to hire any more. At least one more summer and winter season would get them over the hump.

All the wishing in the world wasn’t going to magically pay bills. She sighed and picked up the first one for new fencing, another unexpected expense eating into her dwindling savings. Eve wrote the check, clipped it to the bill, and set it aside for the envelope she’d write out later. She took the next one, paused, then put her head on her desk.

What the hell was going on around here? Nothing drastic, but little things kept happening. A broken fence, a perfectly good bridle needing to be replaced because of a torn strap, a branch crashing through a cabin window on a calm day, and two of the cabin’s hot water heaters having the same problems. The latest, salt blocks in water tanks, could have harmed the horses. Was someone trying to ruin her business?

Eve sat up and tapped out the beat to the music playing outside. Before all these incidents, she hoped for time to create some sort of social life. She snorted. Unlikely. She stopped tapping when a red compact convertible parked in front of the porch.

“Yes! Company!” She threw down her pen and jumped up, her chair hitting the wall behind the desk. She pushed open the back porch screened door.

“Josie, you savior, you.”

A tall, plump, blonde climbed out of the car. She smiled and held up a bottle of wine. “Bookwork?”

Eve held open the screen door. “How’d you guess?”

“It’s about the only thing that would keep you indoors on a gorgeous spring day like today.” Josie set the bottle on the kitchen counter and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been too long.”

“I know, but at this time of the year . . .” She picked up the bottle of Moscato. “Ooo, my favorite, but—”

Josie dug in a drawer for the corkscrew. “No buts, friend. We are going to fill our glasses, kick off our shoes, sit on the porch, and catch up. I have two more bottles where this came from, plus lots of snacks in the car.”

“Have I told you lately I love you?” Eve laughed, taking wine glasses from the cupboard.

“No, and you probably won’t come morning, if we drink all this wine.” She removed the cork from the bottle, filled the glasses, and tapped hers to Eve’s. “To breaks, friend. You do still have your spare bedroom, don’t you?”

Once settled on the white wicker chairs on the back porch, the women sat quietly sipping their wine. The low, matching table nestled between them held chips, crackers, chocolate, and other snacks destined to add padding to their hips.

Guilt washed over Eve for taking the afternoon off. George and Macy, her cooks, cleaned windows on the main lodge. Beyond the large building, several college students hauled furniture out of the six cabins in preparation of scrubbing, painting, and carpet cleaning. Each cabin would receive a fresh coat of red paint designed to replicate miniature barns, complete with hitching posts.

“You know this is entirely wrong, don’t you, Josie? I should be helping get ready for the first customers coming next week. They’re a group of executives from a Milwaukee advertising firm looking for a place to rejuvenate their creative juices. Can you believe it? They booked all six cabins for the entire week. If they enjoy themselves hiking and riding horses and using the lodge for meetings, I can market to other corporations for retreats.” Eve leaned her head back on the chair and grinned at her friend. “Not that I mind your company, but what brings you out here?”

“I thought you could use a friend right now.”

Eve set her glass down. “Josie Franks, what are you talking about?”

“I bumped into Tom at the store yesterday. He told me about the problems you’re having.”

Suspicion reared. “And you came out here for that?” She sat up, grabbed a piece of chocolate, peeled off the wrapping, and popped the decadent treat into her mouth. “There’s something else going on. Spill, Josie.”

“Rose Johanson was with him.”

“And . . .?”

“She told me about Denton being back in town.”

“Uh huh?”

“And that you had a little altercation with him.”

Eve snorted. “No altercation. My truck rammed into his SUV. My insurance will pay for the damage. End of story.” She crossed her ankles on a stool. “So, how are Mike and the kids?”

This time Josie snorted while topping off their glasses. “Don’t change the subject, Eve. What about your escapade at dinner with Max?”

“Geez, Rose talked a lot, didn’t she?”

“C’mon, girl. Your old boyfriend, whom I know you’ve never gotten over, returns to town and in a span of a few days, you bump into him twice. Sounds like providence to me.”

Eve slugged back her wine and hiccupped. “Providence, schmovidence.”

Josie took Eve’s glass. “I forgot how quickly you get drunk. We need to get some food into you.” She pushed herself out of the chair and went into the house.

Eve sighed. Her friend was lucky. Married to a great guy. Two kids. A dog. Job she loved. At least she had a job she loved—the ranch, horses, employees, Tom. Sometimes, no a lot of the time, the longing for someone to share these details came over her like a buffalo stampede. Someone to help with the burdens and the joys of owning a business. Someone, who at the end of a long day, joined her on the front porch swing with a glass of wine, discussed the day’s happenings and enjoyed their children’s antics as they chased the dog around the yard.

The man’s arm would be draped lazily across her shoulders. Bees hummed as they happily gathered nectar from the hundreds of flowers growing in the center garden in the raindrop-shaped driveway turnaround, along the paths to the cabins and lodge and the walkway to her house. Birds singing their night songs and the sounds of horses nickering from the pasture in the front of the barn would add to the relaxed atmosphere. He would turn her face toward his and his blue eyes would gaze lovingly into her brown ones before his mouth gently touched hers in a welcoming kiss.

His love of horses would, of course, match hers. She visualized quiet rides together where they would go to her secluded lake to make love, maybe even creating one of their four children. Many times she and her imaginary lover would get wild and crazy and enjoy each other on the back of a horse. A horseback love scene in one of her favorite romance novels got her excited every time she read it. She wasn’t sure how it would even work, but the idea held merit.

The phone rang, interrupting her highly erotic visions. Josie’s voice came through the open window.

“Oh, hi. How have you been? Yes, it’s been a long time. Evie? She’s outside. Hold on, Denton, I’ll get her for you.”

Eve jumped out of her chair, searching for a place to hide. A dive under the dank, dirty porch was not a good idea and the barn was too far away. She had one foot off the porch when Josie opened the front door and held out the phone.

“Dammit, Josie, no,” she mouthed, refusing to take the phone.

Josie covered the mouthpiece. “Dammit back at you, Eve. Rose told me he’s been calling you over and over. For Pete’s sake, would it hurt you to go to dinner with him? What are you? Chicken?” She pantomimed chicken wings flapping.

“I hate you, Josie Franks.” Eve sat in her chair and covered her head with her hands.

Josie pushed the phone at her once again. “No, you don’t. Now take the damn phone.”

She took a deep breath and let Josie put the phone in her hands. “Do, too,” she snapped, turning her back on her friend.

“What do you want, Dent?” Eve asked, her heart beating like the hummingbirds flitting from feeder to feeder on the porch outside her office window. “I thought I asked you not to call me anymore.” During the past week he’d phoned at least twice a day asking her to meet him. Each time, her resolve weakened a little more, especially when she realized those blue eyes in her dreams were his.

“Eve, please.”

The pleading tone in his voice nearly got to her. Then righteous anger took over. He deserved to be hurting. As much as she hated to admit it, he was wearing her down and she felt less and less like keeping him away.

“Eve? Are you there?”

“Yes, Denton, I’m here.” Eve sighed, sticking her tongue out at Josie. “What do you want?”

“I only want to meet with you and hear me out.”

“What difference would it make?” She pictured him running his hand through his hair in frustration.

Ready to turn him down once more, she remembered Max and Tom telling her to listen to his side of the story. Except for her heart, what could it hurt? Maybe talking with him would exorcise the feelings she’d been harboring all these years. Maybe she would find out he had turned into a real toad or a beast that beat women and tortured children for kicks. Then he would truly be out of her life once and for all.

Eve wiped her damp hands on her jeans and let out a calming breath. “Oh, all right, Dent,” she answered with resignation, ignoring her friend’s fist punch in the air. “When and where?”

“Really?” He paused as if waiting for her to change her mind. He named a familiar supper club in a nearby city. “Tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at seven.”

”Fine. But I’ll drive myself and meet you,” she said.

“Great! Seven it is,” he said, his relief ringing clearly across the phone line.

Eve clicked off the phone and turned to her friend. “Satisfied?”

Josie smirked. “Oh, boy, you betcha, girl.” She grabbed the wine glasses and put a bottle of wine under her arm. “Okay. Now what are you going to wear?”

“Jeans?”

“No way in hell, sister. You need to knock him on his can. Make him sorry he ever left you.” She moved to the door. “Grab those snacks.”

“Where we going?”

“Your room. It’s been way too long since we’ve closet shopped, and I want to make sure you look perfect.”

Denton arrived at the restaurant early, nerves tingling, palms sweating, resisting the urge for a strong brandy to bolster his confidence. He needed a clear mind tonight. He toyed with his glass of beer as he sat at the bar. How had life come to this? The last person on earth, besides his mother, he’d ever wanted to hurt was Eve. From the fateful day of his senior year to today, Eve was never far from his thoughts. He chuckled.

She’d crashed into his life like she had on Main Street. They’d been in band together, so he knew of her, but she was a year younger and they didn’t run in the same circles. Her family was poor and his father’s business, while not making them rich, certainly put them at opposite ends of the financial spectrum. His parents, owners of a manufacturing plant, loved and were devoted to each other and him. Her father, an abusive alcoholic, and her mother, in denial, were no help to their only child.

One morning after the school year started, he’d squatted by his locker, trying to decide if he needed his calculus book, when a bunch of guys from his football team ambled down the hallway, laughing and teasing a girl with dark hair. She spun around in circles trying to get out of their reach.

Whether from dizziness or one of the guys pushing her, she crashed into his locker door, knocking him face forward into the metal container. She fell to the floor, her books flying in all directions. His ‘buddies’ continued to taunt her, kicking the books down the hallway.

Denton sprang back from the locker, ready to give someone hell, when he met the girl’s eyes. Large, dark, and full of unshed tears, they tugged at his heart. Her waist-length, thick black hair had come out of its clip and hung around her face like a curtain. He resisted the urge to reach out and see if it was as soft as it seemed. He turned to his friends.

“Knock it off, you jerks, before I knock you on your asses,” he yelled. Taller than most of them, his threats held meaning. They stopped.

“Hey, Dent, my man. Just having some fun with old Evie, here.” A guy called Snook laughed. “She’s nobody.”

Denton resisted the urge to smash Snook’s face in. “Hell, isn’t she your cousin? I thought family stuck together.”