The Marriage Pact (Hqn) (13 page)

“The dog,” Tripp answered. “Ridley’s mighty enthusiastic when it comes to welcoming company. I put in one of those pet doors for him, so he can come and go as he pleases, and now when he hears a motor, he shoots through the gap like a lead ball fired from a cannon.”

Hadleigh smiled. She could handle a canine missile.

Seeing Jim, a strong, proud man broken by his long illness, though—that would have been tough to handle.

They were moving toward the side entrance—it led to the kitchen, if Hadleigh recalled correctly—Tripp with his hand on her elbow again, steering her through the maze of stacked building supplies and all that heavy equipment.

“I heard you were doing some repairs,” Hadleigh said, needing to make conversation as her nerves kicked up again, “but from the look of things, you’re planning on leveling the house and barn and starting over from the ground up.”

Before Tripp could respond, Ridley blasted through the pet door, leaving it to flap wildly in his wake, and streaked toward them, barking his fool head off out of sheer joy. He was no guard dog, that much was clear.

But then, neither was Muggles.

Tripp stepped in front of Hadleigh just as the dog sprang off its hind legs and all but took flight.

Laughing, Tripp caught the animal in midair, holding him in both arms, and Ridley squirmed with delight, frantically licking his master’s face and giving little intermittent yelps of delight.

“Weird dog,” Tripp said with affection.

Hadleigh found herself envying the animal for a moment, imaging what it would be like to jump and know Tripp would catch her, wrap her in his arms, hold her against his chest—

Even the face licking wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.

Since Tripp was occupied with the dog, she had a chance to get her wits about her, and she was grateful, because whatever the man said to the contrary, she was, if not an outright idiot, something of a fool—especially when it came to him.

Soon enough, Ridley began to settle down and, having spotted Hadleigh, who’d moved out from behind Tripp by then, he perked up his ears and wriggled, wanting to be set down.

Tripp complied, but he kept a close watch on Ridley until he was sure the dog would behave himself. Hadleigh leaned down and patted the critter’s furry head, telling him he was a good dog.

“Watch out,” Tripp joked, “or he might get conceited.”

Hadleigh rolled her eyes, then straightened, feeling both relaxed and anxious. That was when the side door opened and Jim appeared, not as tall as Hadleigh remembered, thinner, too, and kind of unsteady on his feet. His hair had gone from salt-and-pepper to all salt since she’d seen him last, but when he moved into the porch light, she saw the familiar smile.

“Hadleigh Stevens,” Jim almost crowed as she and Tripp mounted the two steps onto the small porch. “Is it really you, or do my eyes deceive me?”

Hadleigh smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss Jim’s scruffy cheek before he stepped back to let her and Tripp and the dog inside.

“It’s really me,” she replied cheerfully, while Jim gazed at her with astonished pleasure.

Tripp took her coat, hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, put his own over it. The cheerful paper she faintly remembered had gone, and now there was only drywall, still smelling of newness. Lightbulbs dangled where there had once been fixtures, and the appliances were all askew, putting Hadleigh in mind of a few confused cattle milling around at the edge of a fast-moving river.

“Good thing I fired up the coffeemaker a little while ago,” Jim said, still pleased, apparently, by the unexpected pleasure of a late-night visit from the famous stolen bride of Bliss County.

Was that how she’d be remembered?

Perish the thought.

Tripp, meanwhile, slid another chair back from the table for Hadleigh, and she sat. He made a face at her, and Hadleigh smiled up at him in triumph.

So much for his theory that Jim would be in bed.

Tripp wasn’t giving any ground, though. He looked right into her eyes and a powerful jolt passed between them, making Hadleigh fidget. Tripp simply watched her, that wicked grin of his tugging at one side of his mouth.

“You’ll be awake half the night if you start swilling java now,” he told his stepfather affably.

Jim merely laughed and sat himself down at the table next to Hadleigh. “Don’t you fret about me, son,” he said, in the deep, rumbling voice that was as much a part of him as his character and his fine reputation. He didn’t even glance at Tripp, focused on Hadleigh the way he was. “Thing is, I’m pretty sure I’m
already
sound asleep and having myself a right nice dream.” His eyes twinkled. “Why, I’d swear I’m looking at the prettiest woman this side of yonder, and that means I
have
to
be dreaming.”

Hadleigh, though she was still smiling back at Jim, felt a few faint pangs of guilt. She knew most of the neighboring ranchers and their wives had stopped by to check on Jim while he was undergoing treatment, the men lending a hand with the chores, the women cooking and cleaning and doing laundry. The people in town had rallied, too, and done as much for Jim as he’d allow, bringing him soup and casseroles and home-baked bread, ferrying letters and catalogs up from the mailbox. In season, when the beans and tomatoes came on, he got so many that he’d called the food bank over in Bliss River and asked them to come and get the overflow.

So why hadn’t
she
paid him a single visit?

The most honest answer was also a selfish one. She hadn’t driven out to the ranch for one reason—because Jim was Tripp’s dad, and she hadn’t wanted to spend even a minute in a place where Tripp ought to have been and wasn’t. His absence would have been too glaring, as though he’d been torn from the very fabric of the universe. Just like Will.

“I’m so sorry, Jim,” she managed. “I should have stopped by, or at least called...”

He patted her hand, shook his head. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry about,” he said gently. “Folks do what they can, when they can, and that’s the way things should be.”

Hadleigh swallowed a lump and nodded her thanks.

Tripp might or might not have seen the exchange, and read it for what it was; if he had, he gave no sign of it. Visibly suppressing a sigh, he rustled up three mugs, filled them at the old-fashioned coffeemaker and brought them to the table.

Needing to get her emotional bearings, Hadleigh looked around at the kitchen. All the cupboards were gone, except for one next to the outdated stove. The brushed-steel refrigerator was surely new, a massive thing with an ice and water dispenser, freezer drawers at the bottom and handles that gleamed fit to blind a person. A pair of dishwashers, still in their wooden crates, waited to be installed.

Having followed her glance, Jim’s smile brightened, if that was possible. He sipped some coffee, savored it awhile before he swallowed. Then he said, “My son has some mighty fancy ideas about kitchens. He’s fixing to tear out the bathrooms, too, and put in swanky fixtures, and unless I miss my guess, he’ll have the whole place rewired to run computers and the like without blowing a fuse every five minutes. Yep, the minute I’m out of his hair, all hell will break loose.”

Tripp was looking down at his coffee, a slight smile playing on his mouth, but he didn’t offer a comment.

Hadleigh stiffened. “Out of his hair?” she echoed. “You’re going somewhere?”

Jim Galloway was legendary for his attachment to the land—
this
land—which had been in his family for generations. The Galloway brand was one of the first to be registered in Wyoming, before it was even a state, and then there was the cemetery, where his wife and several dozen of his ancestors had been laid to rest. All of which made it next to impossible for Hadleigh to imagine him anywhere else.

Unless—

Jim gave a resounding hoot of laughter when he recognized the horrified expression on her face. “Nope, I’m not ready to turn up my toes just yet, young lady. I’m headed north to Alaska, like that old song says. Only I’ll be traveling in style, on board one of those cruise ships with twenty-four-hour buffets and ice statues as big as bison.”

Tripp smiled at the description but still said nothing.

“Wow,” Hadleigh said, as surprised by this dedicated rancher’s vacation plans as she’d ever been about anything. She’d have pegged him for the pack-trip type, leading mules along narrow trails, camping out in the wilderness with a few buddies, living off the land, all of them sipping Jack Daniels around a big bonfire at night while they swapped yarns. But a
cruise?
She would never have guessed that
one. “That’s...great!”

“They dance till dawn on those ships,” Jim added after a few more sips of coffee. “There’s bingo with fancy prizes, and some kind of stage show every night. I don’t know how those people get any rest.”

“Speaking of rest,” Tripp interjected mildly.

His eyes still sparkling, Jim pushed back his chair, made a big production of yawning and stretching his arms. When he spoke, it was with exaggerated sincerity. “I
am
a trifle worn-out, come to think of it—it’s downright wearying, sitting around watching all those carpenters and electricians and plumbers work every day but Sunday.” He closed with another expansive yawn.

“Good
night,
Dad,” Tripp said. But he’d stood up when Jim did, out of respect for his stepfather.

Jim ignored him and turned to Hadleigh, executing an elegant bow from the waist, more like a charming courtier than a rancher. He took her hand and kissed it.

“If I were thirty years younger,” he whispered loudly, mischief dancing in his eyes, “I’d give Tripp here a run for his money, and that’s for sure.”

Hadleigh laughed softly and squeezed Jim’s calloused fingers in farewell.

He straightened, winked at her and left the room.

Hadleigh was sorry to see him go, and not just because he’d served as a buffer between her and Tripp. “I think I’m in love,” she said quietly once they were alone.

“Dad’s a charmer, all right,” Tripp said with a chuckle.

“He’s really going on a cruise to Alaska?”

“He’s really going,” Tripp confirmed, turning his chair around and sitting down again, this time straddling the seat, his arms folded atop the high back. “The doctor gave him the go-ahead yesterday. His fare’s paid and he’s even made up his mind to pick up some new clothes for the trip.”

“I’m impressed,” Hadleigh said, and she meant it.

“You’re also stalling,” Tripp informed her lightly.

She giggled, more nervous than amused. “That, too.”

Tripp caught her gaze and held it. “Something made you skittish, back at Billy’s tonight. And it was awful sudden.”

Hadleigh gulped, nodded.

He waited, not pushing, not prompting. He’d already stated his terms; if she could look him in the eye and tell him that whatever was bothering her had nothing to do with him, he wouldn’t press for answers.

She didn’t look away, much as she would have liked to. “I was thinking back. I couldn’t help it, with us sitting in the same booth we as did back then and everything.”

Tripp took her hand. And waited.

Hadleigh was reassured but no less nervous. “I don’t know what you think I’m going to say, but—well—I’ll bet it’s going to come as a surprise. You might even laugh.”

He skimmed his thumb over her knuckles, the same ones he’d brushed with his lips earlier. Hand kissing, it seemed, ran in his family. His eyes were steady when he spoke again, his voice husky. “Never gonna happen,” he said. He swept his free hand through his hair, leaving it attractively mussed, and then grimaced. “Look, Hadleigh, you don’t have to do this—you know that, right? I shouldn’t have pushed you, but the truth is, some of the stuff I’m imagining is just about driving me crazy.”

A strange, sweet warmth washed through Hadleigh’s heart in that moment, and her eyes scalded. Her throat went tight and she clutched Tripp’s hand when he probably would have pulled it away.

She’d known all along that Tripp wouldn’t press her for an answer when push came to shove—the same way she’d known, a decade before, that he’d stop her from marrying Oakley.

Maybe it was just for closure but, scared as she was,
embarrassed
as she was, Hadleigh needed to tell Tripp what she’d avoided realizing, what she’d so carefully blocked from her mind for all these years and why. What had been her motive?

The answer left her thunderstruck, and more than a little ashamed.

She’d been able to blame
him
for what was lacking in her life, that was the real reason, releasing herself from having to take responsibility for making her dreams happen.

Well, Hadleigh thought, perhaps she’d been a lackluster participant in the marriage pact, up until now, but after this, she’d be free to move on, let go of the past, get serious about finding a man who truly loved her, one she could love in return, without reservation. Together, she and Mr. Right could make a home together, build a family and
be happy.

Okay, so it might not be a grand, passionate romance.

Nobody had everything.

“You were right,” Hadleigh said. “Back then, I mean. I
was
too young to get married, and I didn’t love Oakley any more than he loved me. What I realized tonight—what shook me up—was that I was really just using him.”

Tripp raised one eyebrow slightly. “Using Smyth? How?”

Hadleigh drew a breath, let it out slowly and took the plunge. “I was hoping you’d come back before it was too late,” she said, biting her lower lip. When he didn’t respond, she went on. “I was only eighteen, Tripp. My parents were both dead, I’d lost my brother, and Gram, well, she was a rock, but she aged a lot faster after Will died. I guess I wanted a husband, children, a home—some kind of emotional security.”

Tripp looked tired. But surprised? No. That he wasn’t.

He was quiet for a long time.

Hadleigh, though somewhat humiliated, felt an old burden fall away, and her spirit soared even as she said, “So I asked you to take me to California with you when you left here—”