Karen Rock – His Kind Of Cowgirl (страница 7)

She thought back to her old rodeo dreams, how she’d once imagined crowds cheering her name.

“That girl’s gone. Some things matter more than winning. I wish you’d learned that lesson.”

“Maybe I should have,” he said beneath his breath, his voice so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

He settled his hat on his head and ducked out of the truck, leaving her to stare after him.

Whatever his plans, she’d stop them. It’d taken a good man’s love to reassemble her broken world. She wouldn’t let Tanner Hayes smash through it again.

* * *

TANNER REMOVED HIS hat and thrust open the porch’s screen door for Claire. He studied her, drawn, as he’d always been, by some intangible quality. Something in the way she moved, in the straight back and the swing of her shoulders, her quick-fire expressions.

“Dad!” she called. A small terrier charged them and sprang as high as Tanner’s belt buckle, barking.

“Settle down, Roxy.” Claire scooped up the yapping dog and kissed it on the nose.

He followed her into a large, adobe-style kitchen and spotted her father and a young boy seated at a long oak table, hunched over chocolate cake.

“Hello, Martin.”

The man looked up, surprised, before one side of his mouth twisted in a smile, the other frozen in place. Dismay filled Tanner to see his old hero brought low, followed by a fierce conviction to restore him and his ranch to their former glory.

“Hey, Tanner. Glad you made it, but...” The furrows in the old man’s brow dug in deeper. “Didn’t expect you for another week or so.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Claire’s sundress dripped as she crossed the room and placed her hands on her father’s rising shoulders. She’d always been a loving daughter. Had been devoted to Tanner that way once. What if they’d never split? Would she be caring for him now, too? Helping him figure out his bleak future?

Martin peered up at her. “Thought I had more time.” His deep-set green eyes narrowed, disappearing inside heavy lids. Under the harsh light, the extent of Claire’s scrapes made Tanner suck in a fast breath. It unsettled him. Seeing her hurt. Knowing he’d caused it. Again. A reminder that he was no good for her.

“And why are you banged up? Are you hurt?”

The freckled young boy watched Claire under pulled-down eyebrows, rabbit-gnawing absently on his cake. Tangible proof that Claire hadn’t really loved Tanner. She had a child whose age meant Claire had moved on to another man fast. Had found love, marriage and a family—everything she’d wanted that Tanner couldn’t give. But what if he had...he wondered, eyeing the youth. If he’d chosen Claire over rodeo, this could be his son.

“Are you okay, Mom?”

Claire scooted around the table to kiss his cheek, their sunset-colored hair mingling. “I’m just fine, honey. I had a little accident and Mr. Hayes drove me home. Why don’t you and Roxy go upstairs? I’ll be up in a bit for a story. Guff and Lottie.”

“Can I take my cake?”

His shoulders drooped when Claire shook her head. “You know the rules. Take a last bite and scoot.”

The child shoved a fourth of the slice into his mouth and bolted from the chair, cheeks bulging as he chewed. When he neared Tanner, he skidded to a halt. “Cool belt buckle.”

“Upstairs, please.” Claire pointed. “I’ll sing you a song, too.”

The jittering boy froze, his eyes widening. “Do you have to?”

Claire’s dimples appeared, deep parentheses around her lovely mouth. Tanner forced his eyes away. Shoved back the memories of kissing her tenderly, passionately... He hadn’t come here to rekindle an old flame.

“Only if you don’t hustle. I’ve been dying to sing more lullabies.”

The boy made a gagging sound and clutched his stomach. “I’m going!”

She gathered him close and squeezed. “I’ll be up soon, buster.” The motherly gesture did something funny to Tanner’s gut. Made him regret something he couldn’t name.

Released, Jonathan returned Tanner’s smile. Roxy barked madly as they dashed up the stairs.

“’Night.” Tanner grinned after the kid. When he glanced at Claire, her features looked pinched, her eyes pained.

Martin cleared his throat. “I want to hear more about this accident.”

Claire dropped to a seat and propped her elbows on the table. “I’ll fill you in later, okay? First, Tanner can’t stay. He’s reconsidered.”

Her father pinned Tanner with a sharp look. “That true, son?”

He pulled out a chair and sat. “Claire would rather I leave.” The smell of strong coffee permeated the tiled room and suddenly he wished for a cup. His knee jittered until he clamped a firm hand on it. He and caffeine didn’t mix so well this late at night. It’d been a heck of a day and seeing Claire again had unnerved him more than he’d expected.

Martin patted his daughter’s arm, his clumsy movement tough to watch. He’d always been Tanner’s idol. A father-figure to a boy without one. He owed Martin more than he could repay, though he’d sure try. Sweat equity for starters, and changes that’d get the ranch back in the black. With luck, he’d find a way to save his own future, too.

“That’s for me to decide, Claire Belle. Not saying I shouldn’t have told you first. Maybe I got confused at the date.” The man peered at a Barns across America wall calendar beside an encased, folded flag—for a brother lost in Vietnam, Tanner recalled. “Looks like I did. Sorry about that, Tanner. I promised you I’d warn her.”

Tanner nodded. “Not a problem, sir.”

Claire pointed a spoon at her father. “It is a problem. You agreed to sell Mr. Ruddell the ranch and his offer expires in sixty days. We don’t have time to mess around with Tanner and his risky ideas, whatever they are.”

Her father’s palm thudded on the table, making the milk in the glass slosh. Tanner echoed the frustrated sentiment. Martin needed help and Claire shouldn’t interfere.

“I was born here, Claire. Planned on living out my days here, too, then passing it down to you and Jonathan. Thought I’d lost the chance until Tanner offered to help. Plan on him being our guest for a few weeks.”

“Weeks?” she gasped. Her fingers flew as she wound her damp hair into some kind of bun. The back of her neck looked burned and for a moment the crazy urge to rest his cheek against it seized him. To see if her skin felt as soft as he remembered.

“What have you two planned? If we miss the sale deadline, the foreclosure happens only a month after that. Then you’ll lose everything, including the money you need to pay for a spot alongside Uncle Bob at the assisted living facility. Dani’s going to chip in, but she can’t come close to covering it all.”

Tanner looked out the dark window. Yes, the stakes were high, but didn’t she see how much her father needed this shot?

Martin wiped his mouth after another bite of cake. “Tanner’s got contacts to improve our sales and ideas to strengthen our stock. Plus, he’s got plans to make some money here for himself, too. Seems like a win for us both.”

Tanner met Martin’s eye, silently acknowledging Tanner’s proposed business venture. Martin had said he could count on Tanner and that confidence felt good. Honest. Earned. Or it would be...because no matter what Claire said, he wasn’t leaving when he was needed so badly. When he needed to be here, too.

“Dr. Ogden said not to let you get worked up. And the assisted living facility has the rehab you need to make a full recovery. Don’t you care about getting better?” Claire picked up her son’s plate and strode to the kitchen sink.

“I’d rather go all in than fold, darlin’.” When Martin reached for the pitcher of coffee, Tanner grabbed it and filled a cup.

Claire jerked around. Her eyes locked with Tanner’s and he read the emotions washing through them. Hurt. Resentment. Concern. Most of all...love for her father.

“What about how I feel?” she asked, returning to her father’s side. “What Jonathan wants? He’s already lost a father and you’re all he’s got. You mean more than saving the ranch. A million times more.”

The stricken look on Claire’s face made Tanner knot his hands under the table to keep from going to her. She wanted nothing to do with him. She’d made that clear enough.

Her father patted her cheek, his weathered face gray under the yellow overhead light. “I want to provide better for you and Jonathan. Restore the ranch to what it used to be while I still have the strength to try. Give me that peace of mind before I meet my Maker.”

Tanner nodded at Martin. That was exactly what he aimed to do. They both had to succeed.

“Stop talking that way, Dad.” Claire twisted a napkin and the shredded paper snowed on the oak table.

Her father lowered his chin and two more appeared. “Most times I think you’d be happier off the ranch.”

“That’s not true.” Yet her denial rang false. Tanner knew how uncomfortable she’d become around large, untrained, unpredictable animals after her accident. How she’d pleaded with him to stop riding bulls. It’d been the sticking point in their relationship, the issue they couldn’t get past, until it’d broken them apart.

“If you want more advice, we could hire a consultant.” Her insistent voice rose and her skin flushed a dull red. “Tanner doesn’t need to stay here.”