Sage Creek (20 page)

“Mom.” Diana came up, laying a hand on her mother’s arm. “Don’t pester Sophie. She’s a hostess today, remember? She needs to help Mia in the kitchen, and say good-bye to the guests. This can wait for another time, can’t it?”

Way to go, Mom.
Sophie threw her mother a grateful glance, kissed her grandmother’s cool cheek, and escaped.

People began coming to her, saying their good-byes and streaming toward the door. She slipped into the kitchen and glanced at Mia’s cheerful blue and white “coffee cup” clock as she began stacking dishes and platters in the sink.

She felt light, almost happy. And not, she told herself, because there were only three more hours until she’d be going riding with Rafe at Sage Ranch.

She was simply happy because, once again, she’d escaped having to deal with The List. And the shower had gone well. It had been wonderful catching up with old friends, Lissie had been delighted with all of the baby games, decorations, food, and gifts. And her mom had stuck up for her again when it counted.

It has nothing to do with Rafe Tanner,
she told herself.

And she almost believed it.

Chapter Fourteen

Pulling on socks, jeans, and a sweatshirt later that afternoon, Sophie heard the sounds of wheels crunching on the drive. She zipped up her jeans and hurried to her open bedroom window in time to see Doug Hartigan climb out of an old Explorer.

He was wearing a crisp blue shirt and a pair of khaki pants and carrying a bouquet of daisies, asters, and miniature roses.

But before she could turn away, the front door opened and her mother stepped out. Sophie didn’t want to watch, but somehow she froze, unable to tear her gaze away as her mother walked straight up to Hartigan, cupped his face in both of her hands, and touched her mouth to his.

Eeeeuww
.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. Was her mother really in love with this jerk?
How? Why?
If he hurt her . . .

She heard Hartigan say something, but the wind was rustling through the ponderosa pines and blew away the words, though she thought she caught one of them.

It sounded like . . .
anniversary.

Was today some stupid dating anniversary? Had they been going out three months? Or five months?

She was about to spin away when she caught sight of her mother’s face.

She was cradling Hartigan’s flowers as if they were rare and precious gems. And her face was glowing.

Sophie forced herself to look at Hartigan. She’d never seen him smile before. He looked . . . almost human. It was a jolt. He was beaming at her mother and there was no trace of sourness in his face now. He looked . . .
they
looked . . . happy.

Moving away from the window, a strange feeling came over her. She dug an old pair of riding boots from the back of her closet and tugged them on, her mouth set as she tried to erase the expression she’d seen on her mother’s face as she gazed at Doug Hartigan.

And the way he’d looked when he gazed at her.

She didn’t want to think about any of that. She wanted to think about Rafe. About their date . . . or non-date.

About how she needed to be careful, guard her heart.

She needed to be smarter, more cautious, and more prepared than her mother, who seemed to actually believe she was in love with the teacher from hell.

Chapter Fifteen

Sunlight shimmered like gold dust above the mountains as Sophie pulled up before the sprawling two-story stone and timber house at the end of the long paved drive.

Sage Ranch.

For years it had been like a home away from home for her. And now the great house dominating the valley loomed before her in the sun-dappled haze of late afternoon, as lovely in its own way as the forests and meadows and streams that flowed in every direction across Tanner property.

A pair of hawks circled overhead in the cloudless sky. A horse whinnied from one of the corrals and was answered by another. In the distance, glowing foothills arced toward giant mountain peaks.

Memories washed over Sophie.

Sweet memories. All the happy times she’d spent here—riding around the big corral with Lissie, or galloping across the meadow beyond, racing down to the creek.

Rowdy family dinners with Lissie, her three brothers, and their parents in the spacious ranch kitchen.

Doing homework at the long cherrywood table as the Tanner boys roared like young bears, in one door, out another, sometimes laughing, sometimes arguing and tussling, always shouting.

For a moment, gazing at the house, even larger than the one her great-grandfather had built, she thought wryly of all the ways and times she and Lissie had bedeviled Rafe.

Never once had she ever dreamed that she’d be coming here on a golden afternoon to go horseback riding with him.

She lingered a moment in the Blazer, absorbing the familiar but still breathtaking surroundings. It wasn’t only the weathered barns and paddocks and corrals, the outbuildings and sheds, that gave Sage Ranch the heft and dignity to match her own family’s property; it was the thousands of acres of land that stretched beyond it as far as the eye could see.

While Sophie’s mother had sold the Good Luck ranch cattle and leased most of the pasture to other ranchers after splitting from Hoot, Sage Ranch was still a highly profitable working horse ranch, and one of the most gorgeous properties in the state. Graced on one side by a craggy wood of stately ponderosa pines and on the other by pastures and gentle hills, the ranch boasted one of the most spectacular vistas in all of Lonesome Way.

Sophie drank in the sight of more than a dozen horses grazing in the white-fenced pasture. The meadow beyond the house was lush with wildflowers. And in the distance, the Crazy Mountains reared toward the sky, their dark silver peaks towering across the horizon.

She forgot all about the sight of those mountains though as Rafe walked out the front door and toward the Blazer.

Her pulse quickened. The man was pure cowboy. All tall, lean, and handsome, the brim of his hat partially shading his eyes. He looked perfectly matched to the rugged, dangerous beauty of his surroundings.

“I’ve been watching for you,” he said easily.

The black mutt loping at his heels was more than twice as big as Tidbit, and quivering with excitement at the prospect of meeting a new friend.

“Any trouble finding the place?” Rafe grinned as he opened the Blazer’s door for her.

“I think I could find it no problem blindfolded and upside down.”

“Considering how much time you used to spend here, I’d be shocked if you couldn’t.” As he helped her step down, the touch of his hand set her heart bolting like a runaway train.

It was in that moment that she felt a twinge of panic.

She’d been telling herself all afternoon that she could handle being alone with Rafe, that they were just friends.

But all he had to do was touch her hand, and little sparks seemed to burst through her. Unsettled, she glanced at him, then knelt to pet Rafe’s wriggling dog—Starbucks, he told her—before she reached across to the passenger seat to remove a covered pan.

“What’ve you got in there?” Rafe asked, one eyebrow lifted.

“Dessert. Peanut butter cookies.”

“Hey, my favorite.” Then those cobalt eyes turned piercing as they studied her, and she knew he wondered if she’d remembered that from the Tanner family dinners. Sophie had—but she wasn’t about to tell him.

Inside the house, Sophie set the pan of cookies on the kitchen countertop as Starbucks trotted over to a rag rug before the sink and curled up.

It warmed her to see that not much had changed in the downstairs rooms. Sage Ranch still felt cozy and homey, despite its size. It looked much as it had when Rafe’s parents were alive—the handsome dining table and buffet was still there, as were the family portraits, the built-in mahogany bookcases, and the big overstuffed sofas in shades of cream, gray, and rose that warmed the open spaces of the high-ceilinged living room.

But some things were different, like the gaudy floral carpet in the little side parlor where Rafe’s mother used to sew.

Sophie didn’t like it nearly as much as the lovely faded needlepoint rug that had been there before.

Rafe followed her glance.

“My ex-wife added a few touches of her own.” His mouth twisted. “I never changed things back, just haven’t done much with the place since she left, except new windows and the granite countertops and backsplash.”

“How long has it been . . . since she left?” Sophie asked quietly as they walked from the house toward the corral.

“Four years. Ivy was seven.”

So young,
Sophie thought with a pang of sympathy.
Too young for such a blow.
“I see. I’m sorry.”

But she didn’t see. She didn’t see how a woman could leave a fragile young daughter, a husband, run off, and never come back.

She wished she’d asked Lissie more questions about Lynelle when they’d had lunch at Roy’s.

Rafe had already saddled the horses and he gave Sophie a leg up onto the dappled Appaloosa named Belle he’d chosen for her.

As she slid into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups, she was surprised by how much at home she felt. She’d started riding when she was six, but she hadn’t been in the saddle for years now, since she married Ned.

“Where are we headed?” she asked as Rafe swung up on his gelding, Deputy, with lithe grace. The powerful gray stallion pranced sideways, restless to be off.

“How about the creek? Too far?”

“You must be mixing me up with a tenderfoot,” Sophie retorted. She touched her heels to Belle’s flanks and the horse took off across the pasture at a trot. “Try to keep up—if you can.”

She urged Belle to a gallop and laughed as they surged ahead toward the larkspur-studded meadow and the lush grass leading to Sage Creek.

Hidden in the shadow of the woods thirty feet from the main barn, Buck Crenshaw watched Rafe and Sophie ride out across the open pasture.

So that’s how it is,
he thought, and spat into the dirt.

He’d heard the low murmur of their voices and had seen Tanner, damn his hide, help the McPhee woman up into the saddle. But Buck hadn’t been able to hear anything they said.

Didn’t matter though.

He knew what was up. And what he was gonna do.

After the two of them set off, he waited until they were specks on the horizon before he stepped out of the cover of the trees.

A quick glance reassured him that none of Tanner’s wranglers were around. No other vehicles were in the drive, ’cept for the McPhee woman’s Blazer. And no sign of Tanner’s kid.

He had the place all to himself. Except for that dog inside the house that started up barking the moment he drew near the outbuildings. The dog didn’t matter either though.