Hometown Hearts Read online

  2. Leave Dad alone with Cheyenne at the bookstore.

  3. Tell Dad we like Cheyenne.

  4. Give her flowers from Dad.

  “That’s not good news.” His voice penetrated her thoughts. Humor drew the dimples more deeply into his lean cheeks. Two glasses clunked onto the table, ice cubes rattling. “Although I already knew the answer. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.”

  Had he known what Julianna was up to? Or had he played blindly along? Iciness slipped into her veins. She’d thought he was falling in love with her. She’d thought their closeness had been spontaneous, as if God’s hand were drawing them together. But it had been Julianna and Jenny. A different and more mature handwriting finished the list, maybe Jenny’s script.

  5. Candy. Chocolate is best. It’s romantic.

  6. Make the date as romantic as we can so Dad will marry Cheyenne.

  Marry. That one word tore her apart. Hadn’t she just imagined Adam marrying her? Hadn’t she just begun dreaming of a future that obviously was never meant to be? It had been the girls, solely the girls, they had been behind everything. Not Adam.

  Never Adam. She quietly closed the book and set it on the table. Her hands shook so hard she didn’t dare pick up the glass of tea. She’d known better. She should have known it was too good to be true.

  “I had to hope, but I guess that ship has sailed. I’m ready to accept the girls are going to be horse crazy for a long time to come.” He dropped in his chair, his forehead furrowed and his good humor evaporated. “Is something wrong?”

  Would he understand why she was upset? He wasn’t in love with her. He was simply plodding along, going about his life perhaps not even aware of what his daughters were planning. And if he wasn’t aware, then how ridiculous would her broken heart look when he found out?

  “What do you have there?” There was nothing more appealing than the concern dark in his gaze. His features radiated a genuine empathy that could not be denied.

  “Julianna’s book.” She did her best to hide her pain as a second wave of anguish hit her. Did she make polite conversation and try to muddle through the meal? Could she endure it?

  “She’s made good progress.” Was that really her voice, thin and strained? She cleared her throat but it didn’t help. “I’ve barely had time to crack open my copy.”

  “You’ve been busy saving Clark and helping with the ranch,” he commented amicably like a friend, like a man who was not in love with her.

  Her mistake. Just like with Edward. She’d made it all over again. She’d gotten her hopes up. She saw what she wanted to see instead of what was really there. She’d mistaken his friendliness for affection. How dense could she be?

  “I’m actually looking forward to the cattle drive. It sounds like fun, as long as I get the same horse.” He shook out his napkin, the concern never leaving his face. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about staying. The girls are doing well here. I would hate to mess with that.”

  “What about you? Your work?”

  “When I was in Jackson with Ron Parnell I looked into getting affiliated there. I’m starting to like Wyoming. Very much.”

  He was staying? Her heartbreak worsened into a physical hurt so overwhelming it was as if her chest wall had ruptured. She dragged in a shallow breath trying to cope, but pain slammed into her like an avalanche taking her under. How could she make it through an entire meal like this? She couldn’t hide this level of heartbreak for much longer.

  “This dinner has got me thinking.” The furrows in his brow deepened, as if he were trying to figure out how to make things right. Clearly he had to sense something was wrong. “We should do this again, but maybe more official. I ask you out, you say yes, we go to a real restaurant.”

  “Like a date?” She fingered her napkin, focusing on the hemmed edge until her vision cleared. “You and me on a date?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this very well.” He squared his shoulders and leaned in close enough for her to see his sincerity. “Would you go out with me?”

  Julianna’s plan flashed into her mind. Nearly every meaningful moment she had with him was because the two of them had been thrown together. Everything from the conversation they’d had the evening with Tomasina, to the one in the bookstore, to all those requests for meals and horse rides and get-togethers were the girls’ suggestions. Why was he asking her out now?

  “You could pick the restaurant. Does that help?” He leaned back in his chair and the gentle question in his eyes asked, please. “I should have done it before. The girls beating me to it doesn’t make me look too good. Is that why you are upset?”

  “No.” She folded her napkin in half, and then in quarters. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t take another single blow to her heart. Clearly, Adam was interested enough to date her. She set the napkin on the edge of the table. Every nuance of happiness died within her. “We have been spending a lot of time together.”

  “Yes. I would like to spend more.” His dimples dug into his cheeks, those dangerous dimples that ought to come with a surgeon general’s warning. They pulled at her like a riptide, grabbing hold of her, trying to make her forget the mistake she’d made.

  She wanted to say yes, she wanted to believe him. But what then? He hadn’t been falling in love with her. No, tonight his interest in her was far more practical. He didn’t love her. He was never going to love her. Maybe he just needed a stepmother or a female presence for his daughters.

  That’s why he was asking her out. That’s why he was interested in her.

  Agony tore through her, leaving a terrible void in the center of her soul. All this time she had been falling in love with him against her will, and what had he been doing? Passing time with her because she was convenient. Because he looked at her and thought, why not?

  “No.” There was no other answer, no other choice. He hadn’t given her flowers, he hadn’t asked her to the bookstore, he hadn’t made a single gesture of caring. His daughters had, but not him.

  “No?” He winced, as if her rejection could hurt him. That couldn’t be the truth. He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “Then maybe after the cattle drive? You said the ranch work was demanding until then.”

  “I can’t. I’m so sorry.” She pushed away from the table and scrambled to her feet so blind with hurt she couldn’t remember where the door was. “Our friendship ends right here, right now. I cannot do this anymore.”

  “But I thought—” He didn’t finish his sentence. He shook his head, changing his mind. He rose, a man of granite, but his disappointment showed. “Will you tell me why?”

  “Next time you decide to ask out a woman, make sure she really matters to you and not just to your daughters.” She pushed the book in his direction. Chin up, shoulders straight, she was dignity and strength and independence, a woman walking away from him.

  “I don’t understand.” Her rejection came like a tsunami hitting without mercy, decimating everything in its path. The blow knocked him hard and he couldn’t draw in air. “I thought we had something between us.”

  “I know you do. You are a sincere man, and that’s what makes it worse.” She slipped away like a leaf in the wind he could not catch. “But I need more than that. I have made this mistake before and I know how it ends. I’m the one who will get hurt, and I don’t want to go through that again.”

  His pager beeped. Mr. Parnell was still in CICU so he had to answer. “Cheyenne, wait.” But she was already gone, walking so fast through the house she might as well have been running. Running from him, as if she couldn’t escape him fast enough. His knees buckled, he dropped into his chair. His pager beeped a second time. His hopes, his heart, his soul felt ripped away. The future he’d envisioned vanished.

  It wasn’t until that moment he realized how deeply he loved her. He hung his head in agony as all the light bled from his heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cheyenne pulled into the garage and sat in the quiet truc
k, gathering her strength. Tears kept threatening but she’d held them back. The pieces of her heart kept breaking, smaller every time. Adam was a lot to lose, but he had never been hers. Not the way she wanted him. Not the way she wanted love to be.

  Anguish tore through her with greater force as she gathered her keys, rescued her handbag from the passenger seat and hopped out into the beautiful summer evening. Dark thunderheads gathered at the horizon but there was still plenty of wide blue sky above. Leaves rustled, grasses whispered and birds hopped about gathering their supper. She settled her bag’s leather straps on her shoulder, closed the truck door and crunched through the gravel.

  The house with windows open and full of light beckoned her, but she wanted to be alone. Grief and loss and disappointment bunched behind her ribs as she headed up the lane. Buttercup leaned over the fence to moo. Mares stopped grazing to watch her as she hurried up the hillside. The wind caught her dress hem, and the sandals slowed her down. Cool air rode in on the breeze and she shivered. She needed to get away. She needed the comfort of her best friend. She needed to figure out a way to fall out of love with Adam. He was still in her heart and she didn’t want him there.

  She found an extra pair of Autumn’s jeans and riding boots in the tack room and a crumpled T-shirt of Justin’s in the dryer. She slipped into both and found Wildflower at the gate waiting for her.

  “Hi, girl.” That was a good friend. She hadn’t even needed to call her. The mare had sensed her misery and had come. Cheyenne rubbed the horse’s long nose, smiled when those whiskery lips nibbled at her neck in affection and snapped a nylon lead into Wildflower’s halter. She climbed up bareback and turned them against the wind. Twilight was hours away, but the light was already thinning. A storm was on the way. Let it blow, she thought, for it couldn’t be as decimating as the emotional one that had leveled her.

  I am never going to fall in love again, she vowed. She had expected too much. Storybook endings didn’t happen to her. In torment, she gave Wildflower her head and the mare broke into a mad gallop, but it wasn’t fast enough to escape the tears when they finally hit.

  It was after midnight when Adam unlocked the back door. A single light pooled over the kitchen sink. Emptiness echoed around him. Bless Cady for agreeing to pick up his girls from Cammie’s house. Mr. Parnell had had a reaction to his medication and he’d been given a courtesy call to consult. Fortunately Ron Parnell would be on the mend again in no time.

  Adam couldn’t say the same about his own life. All he knew was that Cheyenne had rejected him and ended their relationship. Or friendship, as she’d called it. He felt hollowed out, as if the grief of losing her had destroyed everything within him. He dropped his keys on the table, where the meal the girls had fixed remained untouched. His stomach growled, but he wasn’t hungry. He flipped on the light, looking at the mess. All he could see was Cheyenne walking away from him.

  Julianna’s book sat on the table. A piece of paper stuck out of the closed pages. He tilted his head to the side and Julianna’s precise print spelled out The Plan. Cheyenne had looked at the book right before she’d left. A bad feeling settled in his stomach. He plucked the paper from its pages and couldn’t believe his eyes as he read what his girls had done.

  It all made sense. Their whispered conversations, their numerous attempts to invite Cheyenne to come over and all the texting they did with her. He ran his thumb across the word marry, which Jenny had scrawled in her looping script.

  Next time you decide to ask out a woman, make sure she really matters to you and not just to your daughters. Cheyenne’s comment popped into his thoughts and suddenly all the pieces clicked. He would never forget the pain he read in her eyes. He’d hurt her, and this was why. She thought he was looking for a mother for his girls.

  Now it made sense. That was why she said she needed more, that she had the same mistake before. He remembered that student she’d dated in vet school who made her feel convenient and as if she expected too much.

  This is my fault, Lord. Anguish carried upward with his prayer. I hesitated and let this happen. If he had been man enough to lay his heart on the line, then Cheyenne wouldn’t be hurting. In protecting himself, he hadn’t protected her. He had made the mistake of holding back. He was reserved. He had always been cautious. That was the problem.

  If only he had seen it earlier.

  Defeated, he dropped into the closest chair. It was time to hope that it wasn’t too late to be honest with her. He grabbed his cell but he didn’t want to do this over the phone. It was late; she was probably asleep, over him, never wanting to see him again.

  What if she wasn’t? She’d been truly hurt when she’d left. So had he. He had to take the chance she was awake. He couldn’t let her keep hurting, he couldn’t let this wound between them continue to bleed. Not if he could stop it. He had to try.

  “This was a bad idea, I can admit it.” She drew Wildflower to a stop on the ridge. Rain bounced off the horse’s neck and ran in rivulets down Cheyenne’s face. Without a hat, the wind-driven torrent pounded straight into her eyes and she blinked, barely able to see.

  Wildflower blew out her breath disparagingly and stomped her front hoof.

  “I’m with you. I like storms, but this is ridiculous.” She should have turned around at the first raindrop but no, she had to keep going. She hadn’t wanted to head home and face her sister and her dad because they would take one look at her and immediately see something was wrong. She so did not want to talk about this. The humiliation was enough, but the grief was unbearable.

  Adam meant more to her than she’d thought.

  The enormity of her loss felt insurmountable. How was she going to get past it? What if Adam wound up staying in Wild Horse? She would see him everywhere—at church, on the street, at the store, in the post office. When she hung out with Julianna and Jenny, he would be dropping them off or picking them up. It would be impossible to cut him out of her mind completely. Her usual method of coping was useless. She couldn’t deny away the enormous sorrow consuming her.

  Wildflower nickered, lifted her head and scented the air. Aware of the sudden tension of the animal’s muscles, Cheyenne squinted into the night, instantly alert. Coyotes weren’t a danger, and in a storm like this most creatures knew to stay snug in their shelters. Now and then a cougar was spotted in these fields. “What do you see, girl?”

  Wildflower stared hard to the north. The dark night and rain made it impossible to see anything but the shadowy outline of the downhill slope and the section road below where rain pounded and grasses blew sideways in the gusting wind. Farther out, shadows milled against the inky darkness. A distant pair of lights rolled around the corner and spotlighted the unmistakable shapes of cows on the county road.

  Chances were equal that the animals were Granger or Parnell stock. Either way, she had an obligation to help get those animals back in their field. “Girl, let’s go check it out.”

  Wildflower agreed, bowing her head against the downpour and picking her way along the slope. Rocks rolled and wet clay shifted. Cheyenne clung to the wet horse’s back, bracing her weight the best she could to make it easier for the mare. Blinking against the downpour, she breathed in scents of warm animal, wet earth and fresh, clean rain. It really was a beautiful night painted with ghostly beauty and she wished she could enjoy it. Wildflower splashed through the puddles and soggy grasses. Up ahead, a man’s figure cut between the vehicle’s headlight beams. Whoever he was, the cows responded. Their shadowy figures plodded into the light to surround the man. Their heads went up and their tongues shot out and grabbed at him with great affection.

  “Who is that?” she asked Wildflower. Mr. Parnell was still in the hospital, the only Blake son was a marine based in Japan and her brothers would be sound asleep this time of night, since their wake-up call was at four-thirty. Wildflower huffed out a breath. She apparently had no idea about the stranger’s identity. The rain beat against the ground in a hundred thousand drops, a symphony of p
lops and pings as she urged Wildflower up the embankment to the county road.

  The sorrow in her heart began to ease. The darkness seemed less bleak as Wildflower plodded onto the pavement, bringing the man and his luxury sedan into sight. Adam. She would know those mile-wide shoulders anywhere and the thunder of his laugh. Shrouded by rain and the night, highlighted by the beams of light, he was larger than life, vibrant and alive and the power of his character shone through. Her heart cried out for him. What was he doing here? Glad the darkness cloaked her, she drew Wildflower to a stop. She had to get her feelings under control before she faced him.

  “Hey, that’s my watch. Don’t eat it. Get back, Shrek.” Amusement warmed those familiar notes. “How did Cheyenne do this? Wait, I know. Hey, I have a treat. Come with me.”

  “Should we go help him, girl?” Wildflower shook her head, perhaps amused. Why did her heart open at the sight of him? Why did her foolish love for him strengthen? Tears bunched behind her eyes as she fought down her feelings.

  She could handle this. She could face him like they were distant acquaintances. She could ignore the dreams that had come back to life. All it took was a little courage and she would look him in the eye as if she’d never loved him. Resolved, she pressed her heels to Wildflower’s sides. The horse rocked forward and her iron shoes rang loud enough to be heard as they drew closer.

  The headlights clearly illuminated Adam calling to the cows as if they were dogs, patting his thigh, walking a few paces and saying he had treats. She shook her head. “That’s not going to work.”

  “Cheyenne.” He whipped around, all six-foot-plus of masculine appeal and might. His gaze met hers with pinpoint accuracy through the shadows and made her stomach tumble. Her fractured soul broke a little more.