Читать книгу By Request Collection April-June 2016 - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 107

THE HORSE ANNIE GAVE TUCKER TO ride had been named Ronald Weasley, by a committee of four from the high school. She assured him that at one time, the majority of the cast from the Potter series had been in residence, but that a lot of them, including Harry, had found homes.

She rode Candy Cane, who’d become something of a favorite among the staff. The names and explanations behind them had taken them past the first and second corrals. Annie was grateful for the distraction, knowing she couldn’t put Tucker off for too much longer. After the ride was over, she planned to shower and change, sending him to town on his own. After all, it was foolish to take one vehicle when he’d be going back to Kalispell for the night. She’d meet him at Marge’s.

She’d debated calling him with an excuse after he’d gone to the diner, but that seemed like a surefire way to kill any chance of getting foundation funds. A man like him was used to conducting business over dinner. In New York she’d done it more often than not. There was no reason for her to think he wanted to share a meal for any other reason. At least him driving ahead would give her time alone to figure out what to tell him.

When she’d first arrived in Blackfoot Falls, people were curious about her and of course they’d had questions. But she’d been vague and firm, and for nearly two years no one had pressed her about her past. God bless cowboys. Not that everyone didn’t gossip about her—she knew they did. But that was fine.

Tucker had caught her off guard, that’s all. Sure, he had money, but at heart he was a cowboy. She’d been ready to tell him every last detail about Safe Haven and all her plans. She wasn’t comfortable telling him lies.

It was bad enough she’d donned Annie Sheridan like a new skin. On the few occasions anyone asked, she said she was from back east. True. When they asked her why she wanted to run Safe Haven, she said she’d always had an affinity for animals, horses in particular. Also true. Then she changed the subject. That wasn’t going to work with Tucker.

“This is gorgeous country.” Tucker rode in a way that made her feel like a klutz. “I’d forgotten what a real spring looks like.”

She wasn’t a klutz. In fact, she was a good rider. But Tucker had been born to the cowboy life.

“The drought has hit everyone in Texas hard,” he said, his baritone laced with sadness. “It’s a different landscape from when I was a kid. It breaks my heart.”

“I’ll bet,” she said. “This is all Safe Haven land, you know. It doesn’t belong to the state or the Bureau of Land Management. That’s good, because we need the space. But we’re not incorporated, and if there’s a fire, unless it threatens buildings or livestock, it’s only going to be managed, not fought. So the more snow and rain we have, the better it is for everyone. Thankfully, this far north, we still get a lot of snow.”

“You have trouble with predators?”

“Much as any ranch out here. We’ve lost our share, but that’s the way of it. the price for free range. Most of the cattle are just passing through, though. We’re not equipped to take care of many, but people are quicker to take cows.”

“That’s good. What about the horses?”

She found herself urging Candy Cane to move faster. “We get a lot of abandoned horses. Too many folks have lost their homes, lost their property, including their ability to care for their stock. Cows are typically bought, but horses…There’s a lot of sentiment around horses, even if the old-timers want to deny it. Nobody likes to send a horse to slaughter. Unfortunately, those same people aren’t able to find them new homes. I’m sure it’s the same story on your end.”

“Every rescue shelter we support has a different set of circumstances unique to their location.” Tucker looked around at the distant prairie, spread as far as they could see. “There are plenty of lakes here. Shade trees. Underground water flow. A horse might find a decent chance.”

She nodded. “Good thing we have that because there’s never a time we’re not at capacity. Not a week goes by we don’t have to turn someone away.”

“That won’t change if you get funding.”

“It’ll happen less. That’s something to hope for.”

He seemed to study her with a different kind of interest. “Safe Haven is lucky to have you. Whatever happens from this trip, the work you’ve put into this place is something you can be proud of.”

“Thank you.” Annie rode ahead a bit, trying not to let him see her confusion over the oddly ominous compliment. Had he already eliminated Safe Haven as a worthy nonprofit? Then why bother to stay for the board meeting?

Maybe they weren’t ready for a gift yet. She’d run across that in her fundraising efforts, where an organization would hold back money until certain goals had been met.

That would be a blow, but only because she was letting herself hope too much. Nothing was ever guaranteed. Especially when things looked brightest.

They weren’t far from the field she wanted Tucker to see. Putting aside her worries, she let the excitement of this amazing project spur her forward. Candy Cane caught her enthusiasm and Weasley trotted along. The perfect breeze lifted Annie’s hair, taking her out of her myopic panic for the first time since he’d mentioned dinner.

The day couldn’t have been better. Green leaves and buds and early flowers were everywhere she looked, the scent of spring vivid, the sky an astonishing blue. Realizing she’d let this pass her by for half an hour reminded her to grab what she could while she could.

When Tucker caught up to her, she truly saw him, not as the man who could solve her financial problems or the nosy stranger who asked too many questions. He wasn’t smiling or anything so obvious, but he looked happy. As if he belonged in Montana, at least for this day.

It was the contrast that made it so clear to her. Yesterday, this morning, Tucker had walked with an air of gravitas about him. Even when he joked around or drank beer from the bottle, he made an impression. You wouldn’t want to tangle with this guy. She had the feeling if he went after someone, they wouldn’t know what hit them until the dust had long settled.

“What’s this?” he said as they got closer to the five-acre experiment. “How tall is that fence?”

“Seven and half feet. It’s not finished, though. But we’ll need to keep the deer out, so we had to go high.”

“What’s it guarding?”

“The future,” Annie said, her voice tight with anticipation of his reaction.

When he looked at her, sparks lit up all through her, but she decided they were a result of the project, not Tucker. “Show me.”

“Well, the view’s not impressive. Yet.” She urged Candy Cane into a burst of speed and led Tucker around the fence to the western gate. Of course, he could see through the wires, see that there was nothing but flat ground, not even plowed yet. But she wanted him to get a feel for how big the plot was, how big the idea was, so she slowed, dropped from her saddle and waited until he’d done the same.

They walked beyond the gate. “This is going to be a field of alfalfa,” she said. “Five acres. Before the tractor engine blew, we’d just started to amend the soil, so it won’t be ready for planting until next year. There are some issues with irrigation that need to be handled before we can truly make this work, but I know we’ll do it. All old school. No motors, no generators. Just wind to push the water through.”

“Huh,” he said, mostly to himself, turning his head as if trying to picture what this land would look like in five years. In ten.

“If it works, which it will, it’ll be the first of many plots growing feed. Not only to make Safe Haven more self-sustaining, but to help future interns learn about alternative agricultural methods. We want to train ranchers to be able to take care of their land using creativity to build and grow.

“This fence has been a large-scale project guided by the high school kids. They did all the fundraising and recruited the help they needed to get the fencing equipment. They’re still working on it, and maybe it’ll take more than a year, but I don’t think so. We’ve discussed making it a cooperative, so that other ranches might be able to start rebuilding. But that’s pretty far in the future.”

When he turned to her this time, his smile made her blush. There was no doubt that Tucker was impressed. More than she’d hoped. “This is remarkable. Really outstanding. It was your idea?”

“I’d mentioned it as a faraway dream, but Melanie and the students, they ran with it. She’s so committed to using the sanctuary as an educational resource that great ideas are all stacked up, just waiting to come to life. She’s amazing.”

“She isn’t the only one.”

Annie’s cheeks burned. She ducked her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. When she looked up again, though, something had changed. The smile had frozen on his face, and his gaze seemed troubled. A second later, the grin lifted, and if she hadn’t looked up at the right time, she would have missed it entirely. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m very glad you brought me out here.” He moved closer, and for a moment she thought he was going to touch her arm, but then he ended up running his hand through his hair. “You have any more surprises up your sleeve?”

“Nope. This was it.”

He nodded. “Maybe we should head back, then. I’ve got some phone calls I need to make, and I know you have things to do. We’ll figure out dinner arrangements on the way.”

“Sure, no problem.” Annie mounted her horse, unsettled and disappointed. The moment had been so perfect. What had changed? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done wrong, but then, she wasn’t always quick to see beyond her own enthusiasm. So much for her ace in the hole.

MARGE’S DINER WAS…A DINER. It wasn’t crowded. Only two men sat at the counter sipping from white mugs. Tucker nodded to them as he passed on his way to a booth in the back. A waitress appeared, poured the men refills, then brought him a menu along with a curious smile.

Strangers had to be infrequent guests in Blackfoot Falls. The interstate was an hour away, and the town was small. And, except for the Sundance, didn’t seem much like a tourist attraction.

He’d arrived early, but he didn’t mind waiting. He was still worrying over a moment of clarity he’d had when Annie had shown him the five acres. She’d swept him away, as thoroughly as if she’d been a magician. Standing there, he could see her vision of the future, her commitment to changing her slice of the world for the better. For one powerful moment, he’d been ready to take out his checkbook.

And then it had hit like an unexpected tackle. She wasn’t Annie Sheridan. He had no idea who she really was. Except that she had to be one of the best fundraisers he’d ever encountered. He didn’t give his money away, not without a lot of forethought and reason, but she could have taken him for a completely different kind of ride.

He didn’t doubt his intuition. He believed that there was far more to the story of Leanna’s skipping town than Christian had said, because she wasn’t the greedy, unscrupulous woman he’d described. Tucker had more faith in himself than to think his judgment was so far off. But that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know. She could still be under someone’s thumb, still need money to get herself out of a desperate situation. Although that was a stretch. Running an animal sanctuary was the worst way he could think of to raise a lot of cash. And her enthusiasm for the place…she hadn’t been faking that.

He raised his gaze just as she walked through the front door.

She’d changed into a different pair of jeans, a fresh shirt. He couldn’t help wishing she’d worn a dress, something more sophisticated that would have shown off her tall, lean body, the way she carried herself. She must have amazing legs.

He stood as she approached the table, then sat when she slid into her side of the booth.

“You’re early,” she said.

“I’ve only been here a few minutes. It’s a nice place.”

She grinned as she looked at the row of uniform booths along the window facing Main Street and the old-fashioned counter with black vinyl and metal stools. “It’s the only place.”

“There are more restaurants in Kalispell. We could go right now.”

She picked up the menu, shaking her head. “Cocoa might foal tonight, so I can’t even be here for long.”

He picked up his menu, too, noticing straight off that they had a homemade beef stew featured. “You know, you never did answer my question about how you ended up in northern Montana.”

She studied him, her lips pressed together and her eyes grave. “Serendipity. I’d heard about Safe Haven when I was traveling. I’ve always been into horses, and animal sanctuaries were a passion. When I came to Blackfoot Falls, I never intended to take over Safe Haven. That just sort of happened.”

“Traveling from…?”

“Back east.” She studied the menu, then smiled up at him. “I haven’t eaten here much, but I do know about the popular dishes. The chicken fried steak is homemade, battered right here, and the burgers are supposed to be off the charts. Oh, and if you like crispy fries, Marge’s is the place.”

Instead of calling her on her subtle misdirection, Tucker found himself caught in her gaze. He leaned forward, aching to break down the walls that she’d built so well. There were no obvious lies in anything she’d said. She hadn’t blinked or given any tells that he could see. It only made her more of an enigma.

God, but she was beautiful. His hand moved across the table until he almost touched her. It was a near-miss, stopping himself just before contact. There was too much he wanted from this woman to let his attraction subvert his plans.

Unfortunately, what he saw reflected in her eyes wasn’t the hint of fear he’d been expecting, but a want he understood too well.

Her lips, pink and lush and unpainted, parted, revealing her white top teeth. If she were his, he would kiss her for hours, make them both crazy for more. But he wouldn’t give in. Not until she was quivering in his arms.

Then again, maybe he’d do that as an encore. He doubted he’d have any self-discipline with her.

“You two need a minute?”

The intrusion made him almost knock his water glass over. Quick reflexes from the waitress saved the day, but the accident gave him time to regain his composure.

When he glanced across the table, Annie was looking anywhere but at him.

“Yes, another minute would be good,” he said, checking the waitress’s name tag. “You don’t serve alcohol here, do you?”

“Nope,” Karen said. “You’d need to go to Sadie’s down the street for drinks. But we’ve got great milk shakes. Our ice cream is awesome. Though you might wanna save that for dessert, because we’ve got fresh huckleberry pie just out of the oven.”

Tucker sniffed the air. He could smell the pie. “I might just skip dinner altogether.”

The young woman laughed. “Don’t do that.” She leaned in a little. “I’d go for the stew tonight. Or the rib eye. Can’t go wrong with either one.”

“Thanks, Karen.”

Tucker was almost afraid to meet Annie’s gaze again. Afraid of getting drawn in. He didn’t seem to have many defenses against her. The ones he’d brought with him were toppling like dominoes with every new look.

Annie put away her menu, then folded her hands on the table, gripping them tightly. She looked at him, but only in quick snatches. “I did a lot of work around stables when I was young. Never owned a horse. Wanted to. My family thought it was a passing phase, something girls go through until boys come along. Not for me.”

“None of the boys were more interesting than riding?”

“Not what I meant.” She smiled. “I was a perfectly normal girl, went on dates, even had a couple of relationships, but my passion for animals, and horses in particular, never dimmed.”

“Did you plan on running a sanctuary?”

“I wanted animals in my life. Somehow. And see? I got what I wanted. I may not have the life I’d imagined, but I’m where I need to be. Doing things that matter. I’m better here, in northern Montana. I’m the right person in the right place.”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve met a number of people who have given up a lot to run animal rescues, and you’re one of the most dedicated I’ve ever met. But―and you can tell me to mind my own business―don’t you get lonely? It doesn’t seem like you have many opportunities to meet new people.”

“I’m not lonely at all,” she said, sitting up straighter. Her jaw flexed a bit, then she exhaled and relaxed. “Alone doesn’t automatically mean lonely, you know.”

“I do.”

“So what about you?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you married?”

“No.” He laughed.

Her face lit with amusement. “Why’d you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like it was an absurd notion. You don’t care for the idea?”

“I think it’s a fine institution. And when or if I meet the right person, I’ll consider it.”

Annie’s left eyebrow quirked up. “Who would fit that bill, Tucker Brennan? A Dallas socialite, perhaps? Someone with a high-class education and Texas roots?”

“Really? That’s who you think I am? That I’d be more attracted to a pedigree than a person?”

Her shoulders dropped a little, as did her head. “No. I was being a smart-ass. Pardon me. I don’t know you, but from what I’ve seen, and what I know about how you ranch and your priorities, I’d say you’d want someone you could trust and respect. Someone you could admire.”

“Don’t we all?” he asked, the conversation hitting him hard for some unknown reason.

She smiled at him, and it was about the saddest thing he’d ever seen. “I think I’m going to try that stew. And take home a slice of pie.”

He nodded, accepting the segue into safer territory. But for the rest of the meal, the conversation felt strained. They laughed too quickly at things that weren’t that funny. Pretended the sporadic silences were comfortable. Stole glances, ate quickly, tiptoed.

After he’d paid the check he realized he couldn’t have said what the food tasted like. At the door he asked, “You parked on the street?”

Annie shook her head. “Behind the diner.”

He touched the back of her elbow. It hadn’t been a planned move, and once the connection had been made they both froze for a second. But he didn’t drop his hand.

More importantly, she didn’t step away.

They walked slowly. Country music rose and fell as people opened what he imagined was the door to the neighborhood bar. He didn’t see one vehicle that wasn’t a truck of some kind, or an SUV. And he only noticed that because he forced himself to think of something other than what it would be like to touch a hell of a lot more than her elbow.

Maybe it was the mystery that made him feel this powerful pull, but he doubted that was all. He remembered sitting in his Dallas bedroom at one point, her file spread in front of him, thinking that he might have liked her if she’d been the person she appeared to be.

Now that he’d met her, she was more that woman than he could have imagined. Hardworking, dedicated, kind, strong. It didn’t hurt that she pressed all his personal preference buttons in terms of her looks, but this thing, it wasn’t just physical.

He really liked Annie. More than he should, that’s for damn sure. It was wrong to feel like this when she’d done so much damage to his brother, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. So what, was he trying to justify his reaction to her, is that why he was finding it increasingly hard to believe she was capable of such a crime? Not an easy pill to swallow. Though both scenarios were troubling.

If what his gut told him about Annie was right, he had to seriously consider that Christian hadn’t told the full truth about the embezzlement. Or flat out lied. Oh, man, that wasn’t a possibility Tucker wanted to entertain at all. His mother would crumble.

But that changed nothing, because with every conversation, his certainty that Annie’s guilt would be mitigated grew. He slid her a look that went unnoticed. With an upward tilt of her lips she was busy gazing at the clear blue sky. She loved Safe Haven, loved this small corner of Montana. Annie was doing good for the animals and the community without expectation of personal gain. It wasn’t just him―the people who worked alongside her believed that.

Dammit, he wasn’t wrong about her. And that wasn’t his lower half talking.

She stopped, and it startled him, but then he saw the beat-up green truck of hers.

He moved around to face her, reluctantly releasing his hold. “Thank you for coming to dinner with me.”

She shrugged. “As Shea would say, I really do want your money.”

“Is that it? The only reason you came tonight?”

“Not completely. I admit, I find you good company. You were helpful yesterday, and I didn’t properly thank you for that. Today, you asked intelligent questions, and I could see you care deeply about what your foundation does. You listened to me. Heard me. I appreciate that.”

“You’re fascinating. I would probably have listened to you read the phone book, although that wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting as hearing about your plans for the shelter.” He put his attraction to her out there, then watched closely, waiting for a small tell. A sign that she knew he was ripe for the picking, a perfect mark. One sultry smile and she could have him reaching for his checkbook….

“Thanks.” She blinked. “I think.”

He paused, knowing he should go. Right now. Just say good-night and walk away. “Annie,” he said, his voice lower, soft enough for her to lean forward. “You’re—”

She moistened her lips. “I’m…?”

He kissed her, half hoping to uncover the ruthless Warner woman who’d turned so many lives upside down. But it was sweet Annie Sheridan who kissed him back.