The Rancher's Dance (15 page)

The girl—well, young woman, really—looked awkward as she shook Lucy's hand. “I'm Melissa.”

Caleb, on the other hand, just looked grim. “Lis and I are at school together.”

Because Lucy was rapidly realizing that “Lis” was probably the reason why Caleb had been so absent lately, she wasn't overly surprised at the information. Nor was she feeling inclined to lecture her kid brother about the virtues of fidelity where Kelly was concerned.

She was simply too tired.

Or, rather, her heart just didn't have the stamina for another battle. So she just told Melissa it was nice to meet her, and then headed toward the stairs.

“You're limping again,” Caleb said after her.

She just nodded and continued up the stairs.

Yes, she was limping. Because she'd twisted her darn knee when she'd been blindly stomping through the trees and away from Beck.

And the way things seemed just then, she was beginning to feel like she'd never get over the limp, any more than Beck would ever get over losing his wife.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe some things weren't worth the risk.

L
ucy found Gertrude the next morning.

Shelby's stuffed rabbit was tangled inside the towels that she'd shoved into her tote bag.

She pulled out the rabbit and sat on the side of her bed, holding it in her hands. Since she'd met Beck's daughter, she had never seen her without the rabbit within close proximity. Gertrude went everywhere Shelby went.

But not last night.

She chewed the inside of her lip, then reached for the phone. But she didn't call Beck to see if Shelby had started hunting for the rabbit. Instead, she called Ryan and Mallory.

Even though it was early, she knew they'd be up by now and probably getting ready for church.

Mallory—used to getting calls at all hours anyway—answered on the first ring. “Lucy,” she greeted, sounding surprised. “What's wrong?”

Nothing that a heart removal wouldn't cure. “Not a thing. I just wanted to see how you and Ryan fared with the girls last night.”

“Fine.” Mallory still sounded surprised. “They both passed out much earlier than we expected actually. Ryan's just getting them some breakfast now. French toast. With whipped cream,” she added with a laugh. “As if that'll help them sit still through church.”

“Great. I, um, I was just curious.”

“She's a darling girl. How did things go with Beck after we left?”

Lucy felt her face flush and was glad it was only a phone conversation. “Fine,” she lied blithely. “We just finished packing up and left ourselves.” An even bigger lie.

“Mmm.” Mallory didn't sound entirely convinced. “Guess we'll see you later today at dinner?”

Truthfully, Lucy had forgotten all about Sunday dinner. “Yeah.” She searched her memory. “At J.D.'s place today, right?”

“Yup. Hopefully I'll get through the meal this time without having to run over to the hospital for a delivery.” Mallory laughed again. “Not that I should complain that the new moms in Weaver are keeping me in business. See you later.”

“Later,” Lucy echoed and hung up.

She wiggled Gertrude's floppy ears. “Don't worry,” she told the stuffed rabbit. “Shelby still loves you.”

Gertrude just stared up at her with her glassy black-bead eyes and curving, hand-stitched smile.

Lucy left Gertrude on her nightstand and pushed off the bed. Her knee was still protesting a little but not badly enough to make her reach for the brace lying on the chair in the corner. She left her room, noticed that Caleb's bedroom door was open and peeked in on her way downstairs.

Empty. Bed messily made, not giving her any idea whether he'd actually used it the night before or not.

She made herself some coffee, then went back upstairs to get herself ready for church, too.

As she drove away from the house, Gertrude was on the seat beside her. She'd just give the rabbit to Shelby when she saw her at church.

But as she neared the old Victor place, her foot lifted off the pedal and she suddenly turned.

Her heart was raucously thumping inside her chest and her head warned her that she was making a mistake. Pushing too fast into areas that had been clearly posted against trespass. But she couldn't get her foot to lay off the gas, and she couldn't make her hands turn the wheel back around.

And then it was too late anyway, because she was within sight of that glorious house, and Beck himself was in the front yard. Sitting on a riding mower, cutting swaths across the acres of green, green grass and wearing jeans and a white T-shirt and a dark brown cowboy hat. She knew he'd seen her, too, because that hat turned her direction.

Her mouth ran dry and she pulled to a stop. “Okay, Gertrude,” she murmured as she grabbed the rabbit. “Wish me luck.”

Then she climbed down from the truck and slowly crossed the grass, heading toward him.

He cut the motor when she got there but didn't budge off the seat. The cowboy hat shaded his face too much for her to see his expression, but the set angle of his jaw wasn't exactly inviting.

She held up the stuffed rabbit. “Somehow this made it into my bag yesterday. I didn't notice until this morning.”

He reached down and grabbed the toy. “You look like you're dressed for church. Could have given it to Shelby directly.”

He was absolutely correct. She was dressed for church. She could have given it right to his daughter. Feeling self-conscious, she twitched the ankle-length skirt of her gauzy white dress. “I know.”

“Then why are you here? After last night, I figured you'd wash your hands of me.”

It was still early in the morning, but the sun was already bright and she squinted a little, looking up at him. His wrist was hanging over the wheel of the mower, Gertrude dangling from his hand. She pulled her gaze away from the simple, manly grace of that tanned, strong wrist. “Well, either I'm a glutton for dirty hands, or I'm not that easily frightened off. I know that was your intention. Question is, was it just because of the day, or because of something else?”

His lips twisted. She still couldn't see his eyes and wished badly that she could. “It was a tough day for me,” he finally said. “I shouldn't have tried spending it with you.”

She hesitated, not sure how to take that. “Sometimes tough days are exactly the kind of days you do need to spend with people who care,” she said after a moment. “Just because I haven't lost a spouse doesn't mean I don't recognize how painful it's been for you. And honestly, Beck, the last thing I want is to make anything worse. Not for you. Not for anyone. I'm here for the summer. I just…” She lifted her shoulders, wondering if she was the biggest fool on the planet. “I think you're a nice person.”

His hat dipped even lower. “You haven't made things worse,” he said in a low voice. “And you're nicer than I am.” Then he held up the stuffed animal. “Harmony made this for Shelby. Before she was born.” He made a faint sound. “Shelby's never gone a night without it.”

Her heart squeezed. She'd figured as much, though she
hadn't realized Shelby's mother had made the stuffed rabbit. “It obviously means a lot to her.”

“Maybe.”

She swallowed and moistened her lips, feeling like she was treading in a minefield. “Just because Shelby forgot it one night, doesn't mean she's forgetting her mother.”

“She barely
remembers
Harmony. All she is to Shelby is a face in a bunch of photographs.” He looked away and she saw his wide shoulders move in a mammoth-sized sigh.

Her eyes stung. She wanted to cry. For him. For his heart. And for herself because she would never know what it felt like to be loved so much. Not by him.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump there. “Well, I guess I'd better leave you to your chores.” She had more than a few of her own to take care of back at the Lazy-B because Caleb seemed to be MIA once again. “I, um, I know you regret it, but I am glad you all came out to the C yesterday.”

“I don't regret all of it.” The corner of his lips tilted a little. “Just the part where I made an ass of myself.”

She shook her head, telling herself to turn around and go. There were some things that she couldn't have in this world and Beck's heart was clearly one of them.

“Look, maybe we can start fresh,” she suggested instead. She waved her hand. “You know, forget all about yesterday.”

She felt his sidelong glance. “You
are
an optimist if you think I'm going to forget some things.” But then he shrugged. “But if you can forget…I can try, too.”

Unfortunately, she wasn't ever likely
to
forget.

Not the words they'd spoken. Nor his smiles and laughter. And definitely not the fact that he'd wanted her.

Physically, at least.

“All right, then,” she managed as if she weren't shaking
inside. “If you want some breakfast after you're finished, come on over.”

His hat turned her way again. He tilted it back an inch and then she
could
see the expression in his hazel eyes. “I thought you were going to church.”

She shook her head. “I changed my mind.” She forced a small smile. “It's not necessarily a hangable offense around here. And breakfast is pretty much the one meal I'm actually competent at cooking.” Afraid he'd find some reason to decline, she turned then. “Offer's open if you want. Neighbor,” she added casually, and started across the lawn toward her truck.

The engine of his riding mower started up again.

She blew out a thin breath and focused harder on her truck only to look over in surprise when he drove the mower up beside her, cutting diagonally across the absurdly neat rows he'd already mowed.

His hat was still tilted back an inch on his head. “What are you fixing?”

“Um…what do you
like?
”

His jaw canted slightly. She felt his gaze almost like a physical touch. “Good question,” he murmured.

Her mouth ran dry all over again and she sternly warned her heart to just settle down. He'd made it plain the night before where they stood on
that
and she'd do well to remember it. But that didn't mean she'd given up on being friendly.

She racked her brains for breakfast items and felt foolish that it was so difficult. She was a grown woman. She wasn't supposed to lose all her ability to think just because an attractive man was looking her way. “Pancakes? Waffles?” She cleared her throat again. “French toast?”

“Surprise me,” he said after a moment. Then he smiled again and hit the throttle of the mower.

Her stomach squiggled around. She raised her voice so he'd hear. “You're coming, then?”

His hat—back down where she couldn't see his eyes again—shifted her way. “So it would seem.” He turned the mower back in the other direction and moved away.

Lucy wondered how long it would take him to finish the lawn. Wondered, too, if there were even the fixings for any sort of breakfast back at the house and decided it didn't matter. She wasn't going to be caught dead running to town now. Not after she'd already “casually” invited him. With her luck, she'd be found out and wouldn't that be another jewel of embarrassment?

She'd just use what she found, and raid the freezer in the basement if necessary.

And focusing on the practical at least gave her mind something else to do beside chide herself for making yet another mistake.

She drove home quickly, and fairly flew out of the truck and into the house, only to stop short at the sight of Caleb, sprawled on the living room couch. “When did
you
get in?”

“Few minutes ago.”

He looked like hell and even though the problem of producing a decent breakfast for Beck still loomed over her, she sidetracked for a moment and headed toward her brother. “What's wrong?”

“I told Melissa we had to stop seeing each other.”

“Oh,” she murmured faintly and sat down on the coffee table, facing him. She studied his face. “You don't seem happy about it.”

“I'm not.” His head was resting against the back cushions of the couch and he threw his arm over his eyes. “But it was the right thing to do.”

“Because?”

He glowered at her from beneath the arm. “Because of Kelly. Obviously.” He grimaced again and lowered his arm over his eyes once more. “This summer has
sucked,
” he muttered.

At one point—before she'd come home and met a certain neighbor—she would have agreed with him. Hands down.

She pleated the gauzy skirt laying over her knees. “Caleb, are you in love with Kelly?”

He didn't answer right away. “I don't know,” he finally said, sounding so defeated that she wanted to hug him like he was still a little boy.

“And Melissa?”

His lips tightened. “Yeah.”

No hesitation that time at all.

She looked at him. “If Kelly's not the one who makes you happy, why didn't you break up with
her?
”

“How?” His arm lowered again. “We've been together since junior-damn-high practically.” He pushed off the couch. “It's comfortable. And I didn't say I don't love her.”

“No,” she agreed slowly, “what you said was you weren't certain you were
in
love with her. Maybe it's a fine line, but I think there is a difference. And if you really do care about Kelly, she deserves more than someone who sticks with her just out of comfort or habit. Maybe you ought to think about that.”

“I'm going out to check the water troughs for the stock and feed the horses,” he said in response, and headed out the front door.

Lucy exhaled. “Well, that went well,” she said to the empty room. Caleb was only twenty-one and already he was in love with at least one girl. And judging by the ex
pression that had been on his face, it wasn't the passing fancy sort of “in love” that young people often had.

He was seriously in love.

When she'd been twenty-one, the only thing she'd been in love with had been dance.

Shaking her head a little, she went into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door.

She had a few eggs left over from the baking she'd done for yesterday's cookout. Not enough for scrambled or fried eggs, but enough for waffles.

She dragged out the heavy waffle iron and whipped together the batter. She'd wait to cook them, though, until Beck arrived. Then she unearthed bacon in the freezer downstairs and managed to chip off enough to start cooking in a cast iron skillet. She shredded an enormous baking potato to make hash browns. Hoping he liked onions, and she quickly diced a small one, adding that, too.

She wracked her brain to remember the kind of food her dad liked to eat on Sunday mornings, but all she could think of was the enormous cinnamon rolls from Ruby's Café in town that he loved. And she'd already ruled out a trip to town.