Читать книгу Once a Rebel - Sheri WhiteFeather, Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 11

In the morning Susan took Chocolate for a walk down by the barn. She told herself it wasn’t a ploy to see if Ethan was around. She had no idea if Ethan was even working on the Double Crown today. He had other clients, other ranches that paid for his services.

But even so, she scanned the distance, wondering if he was working with the cattle, the animals that looked like irregular-shape dots grazing on the vast Texas land.

Not that it mattered if he was out there somewhere, restraining cows in a chute. She wasn’t searching for Ethan, she reminded herself. She was simply taking his dog out to play.

And play Chocolate did. He ran all over the place, disappearing from sight, then returning with sticks and rocks and other makeshift toys in his mouth.

At her feet he dropped a soda can he’d found, then took off again. He hadn’t gotten the concept of fetch. He didn’t wait around for her to throw his prizes so he could retrieve them. Not that she would toss an aluminum can. She picked it up, intending to throw it away, wondering who’d littered the ranch. She couldn’t imagine any of Ryan’s employees being that disrespectful, but someone had discarded it.

She heard Chocolate barking and hoped he wasn’t getting into any trouble. It appeared to be a playful sound, but he might be bugging one of the ranch hands.

Susan followed the bark and found him behind an outbuilding, along with a teenage girl who sat on the ground, puffing on a cigarette. She looked at Susan without saying a word.

Déjà vu hit her hard and quick.

She saw a reflection of her former self. Not in the girl’s appearance, but in the unaffected stare. Susan never flinched when strangers used to catch her smoking, but she remembered how her heart would pound, how she would pray that her dad wouldn’t find out.

“Do you know if there’s a trash can nearby?” she asked, keeping her tone easy. She wanted to get her point across without backing the child into a corner. She suspected the littered can had come from her.

The teenager shrugged. She wore a nondescript T-shirt, tomboyish jeans and tennis shoes. Strands of wavy brown hair escaped from a simple ponytail. A sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose gave her face a pixielike quality and so did her petite frame. She appeared to be about fourteen or fifteen. Beside her was a blue-and-yellow backpack.

“Maybe in the barn?” Susan said, referring to the trash can again.

The teen’s brown eyes barely blinked. “I suppose.”

“I guess I’ll throw this away later.” For now she decided to introduce herself. “I’m Susan Fortune, Ryan and Lily’s cousin. And he’s Chocolate,” she added as the dog sniffed the girl’s jeans.

“I know who he is. The vet’s pesky dog.”

Susan couldn’t help but smile. “He means well. What’s your name?”

“Cathy.”

She sat down in the dirt, close enough to make direct eye contact, but not close enough to invade the girl’s space. “How well do you know Ethan?”

“My mom used to babysit for his girlfriend’s kid when they went out.” Cathy squinted at her. “Are you his new girlfriend?”

“No. We’re just friends. We knew each other when we were young.”

“You kind of look like Amber.”

“Really?” Susan recognized the name of Ethan’s ex. “How so?”

“I don’t know. You just do.” A strong pull on the cigarette filled her lungs. “Except she’s prettier than you.”

Ouch, Susan thought. This kid knew how to pack a punch. It made her wonder what or whom Cathy was lashing out at. “Do you go to school around here?”

“Where else would I go? I live on the ranch.”

“You’re a long way from the bus stop. Shouldn’t you get going?” Susan decided to up the ante, to use a little friendly force. “Or are you planning to ditch?”

“I was just getting ready to leave.” Cathy stood, stamped out her cigarette and left it on the ground. Then she grabbed her backpack and took off, disappearing around the corner of the building.

Chocolate barked, and Susan sighed and went after the cigarette butt, dropping it inside the empty can. She had enough problems to contend with; she didn’t need to worry about one more trying-to-be-tough teen. The world was filled with rebellious youths, and she couldn’t help them all.

But Cathy lived on the Double Crown and that made Susan think that fate had intervened. That she should explore Cathy’s situation, at least ask Ethan about her.

Susan waited until dusk to show up at Ethan’s door. He answered her knock with his hair damp and his chest bare. A pair of jeans rode haphazardly on his hips.

He’d just taken a shower, she realized. And climbed into his pants. His fly wasn’t open, but several teeth on his zipper were exposed, drawing her gaze below his belly button.

“Are you here to return my dog?”

“What? No.” She looked up and felt her cheeks sting with bad-girl heat. She shouldn’t be examining him like a side of beef. “Chocolate is with Ryan and Lily.”

He glanced over her shoulder. “Are you sure he didn’t follow you?”

“I’m sure. He was napping when I left the house.” Her gaze strayed again. Faded denim, the waistband of his boxers peeking out. She wanted to touch him, to put her hands where they didn’t belong.

She meant to tell him that she’d stopped by to ask him about Cathy, but suddenly she couldn’t think beyond his body, beyond his half-naked appeal.

He gestured for her to enter the cabin. She walked inside and took a deep breath.

When he closed the door, she noticed a tattoo on his shoulder. Two horseshoes and a star branding his flesh. “When did you do that?”

He turned to face her. “Do what?”

“The ink.”

“Five years ago. For luck, when I turned thirty.” He gave her a half-cocked smile. “I’ll probably do it again when I turn forty.”

“On the other shoulder?”

“I haven’t decided.” He grabbed a shirt that was draped over the sofa. “Do you have any hidden artwork I should know about?”

“Like a pirate ship on my chest? No, I can’t say that I do.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a rose on your thigh.” He slipped on the shirt, but didn’t button it. A grin slid across his face. “Or maybe a butterfly on your sweet little—”

She raised her eyebrows at him. Ethan Eldridge had turned into a dark and daring man. “You missed your chance to see my butt.”

“Don’t remind me how stupid I was.” He paused and his expression turned serious. “Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

The change of topic threw her off-kilter. She blinked, reminding herself that she’d arrived at his house to ask him about Cathy.

“We can go to Red,” he said.

Red? The restaurant where his ex-girlfriend worked? “When?”

“In a few minutes. I just have to finish getting dressed.”

“Sounds good. I haven’t eaten yet.” She decided she would ask him about Cathy over dinner. And maybe, if Amber was working, she would get a glimpse of the woman she supposedly resembled.

Even if Amber was prettier.

She sat on the sofa while Ethan got ready. He buttoned his shirt in front of her, but turned his back to unzip his jeans and tuck in his shirttail. A belt came next. She could hear the clank of the buckle.

She didn’t think he was as modest as he seemed. He’d probably done it out of respect to her.

Finally, he walked over to an oak armoire and removed a pair of socks from the single drawer. The cabin didn’t have a bedroom, and she shifted on the sofa, realizing she was sitting on his bed.

He reached for his boots and sat next to her, pulling them on. His dark brown hair, she noticed, had yet to dry. He wore it short and just a little messy. His temples bore fine threads of gray, barely visible, but still a testament of time, of the years that had passed.

“Don’t wear a hat,” she said.

He made a face. “Why not?”

“I like how you look without it.” And she didn’t want him to hide beneath the brim.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying, it seemed, to tame it. But his finger combing didn’t make much of a difference. “I feel naked.”

But he wasn’t, she thought. He was fully clothed now. “I heard that hats make men go bald.”

“Then I’d really be naked.” He gave his Stetson or Resistol or whatever it was a longing glance. “This bites.”

She smiled, knowing she’d won. “Maybe I’ll kiss you tonight.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Really?”

“On the cheek.”

“Tease.” He stood and offered to help her up.

She accepted his hand and his sense of humor. His eyes were twinkling, as blue as the sea, as the sky, as every poetic description she could think of.

A moment later, they took his truck and left for the restaurant in companionable silence.

Red was a converted two-story hacienda brimming with charm. The first floor served as the eatery, with dark wood tables and terra-cotta tiles. Leafy plants and dim lighting offered a cozy atmosphere.

Susan and Ethan sat at a candle-steeped table, and from her vantage point, Susan could see the courtyard where paper lanterns were strung, like leftover holiday lights bouncing off red umbrellas.

The waitress, a friendly brunette, brought them their menus, took their drink orders and departed with a swish of her flouncing uniform. Susan glanced around. Amber, she assumed, was blond.

“The combination platters are really good,” Ethan said.

Susan quit scouting the room and scanned the menu instead. Not a blonde in sight. “Everything looks good.”

“Yeah. I’m starving.” After a busboy delivered their drinks and placed a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa on the table, Ethan dived into them. “I eat out a lot. It’s a hassle to cook for myself.”

“For me, too.” She pondered over a beef burrito or a chicken enchilada, then gave in to her curiosity. “Did you meet Amber here?”

“Yep.” He said it casually, reaching for another chip. “She was separated from her husband and going through a rough time.”

“And you helped her?”

“Oh, sure.” He laughed a little. “I helped her come to the conclusion that she was still in love with her husband.”

Susan dipped into the salsa, waking up her taste buds. “I guess she isn’t working tonight.”

“Not tonight or any other night. She doesn’t work here anymore.” He frowned at her. “Did you think I picked this place because of her? I don’t play those kinds of games.”

“I didn’t see it as a game. Besides, I heard that we look alike.”

“Who? You and Amber?” He sat back in his chair, the frown digging deeper into his skin. “Who told you that?”

“Cathy.”

“Cathy?”

“The teenager whose mom used to babysit Amber’s son.”

“Oh, that Cathy. The kid who sneaks cigarettes. I’ll bet she got to you.”

“Yes, she did. In fact, she’s the reason I came to see you. But first I want to know if what she said is true.”

He gave her a point-blank stare. “Why? Is it some sort of crime for me to sleep with petite blondes?”

“So we do look alike.”

“Not enough to mix you up. And I didn’t even recognize you when I first saw you.”

Which meant that Amber looked more like the way she used to look. Longer hair, darker makeup, sexier clothes. “It could be a Freudian crime.”

He broke into a smile. “Then you should cure me. Take me to bed or something.”

“Nice try.” She smiled, too, but her pulse was tripping like an acid-dropping hippie. Even the flame on the candle was jumping.

The waitress came by to take their food order. Suddenly Susan was glad the other woman was a brunette. It was foolish to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. She was getting territorial about Ethan.

By the time their meals arrived, she almost convinced herself that she should sleep with him. Almost. But somewhere in the recesses of her brain, she knew an affair would do spongy things to her heart. In spite of her teenage track record, sex had never been casual. For Susan, it came with a price. An emotional price, where attachments were formed, where she needed her partners to care, even the boys who’d passed her around like candy.

She watched Ethan attack his combination platter. He mixed up his food, the chili rellenos and tamales that sat beside hearty helpings of rice and beans.

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were young?” she asked, her thoughts mired in the past. “I knew you wanted to. I could feel it every time we were together.”

He nearly dropped his fork. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. To become part of your pain.”

“But the way you looked at me gave me false hope.”

“Okay, fine.” He frowned, steadied his fork. “You want the whole truth? I wanted to heal you, to sweep you into my world and make you mine. But the idea of losing you scared me. I knew you wouldn’t stay in Texas.”

Her breath went still; her mind went into its Ph.D. mode. “Who abandoned you, Ethan? Who was I representing?”

“No one. Christ Almighty.” He cursed under his breath, then looked up, apologizing, it seemed, to the Man above. “Does everything we do have to be dissected? Analyzed? Chewed up and spit out?”

Guilty as charged, she thought.

“Besides,” he went on, “now that we’re older, I’ve been chasing you like a rutting bull. I think that makes us even.”

She looked into his eyes and saw his pain, the rejection she was causing. “I’m sorry. But now it’s my turn to be afraid. To be wary of an attachment.”

“Maybe I can teach you how to get over it.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Some things aren’t meant to last. Sometimes we have to take life as it comes.”

He was right. But he was wrong, too. Sometimes people had to protect their hearts. “I don’t have affairs anymore. Not without some sort of commitment.”

“Does it have to be a long-term commitment?”

“I like to hope it does. My last two relationships lasted for quite a few years. They didn’t work out, but at least I tried.”

He lifted his water and took a swig. “Mine never last. But I’m not saying that I won’t make a long-term commitment. That it won’t ever happen.”

She nodded, recalling that he wanted a wife and children someday. “Maybe you’re not as detached as you seem.”

“Detached? I’m falling at your feet, woman.”

“Because you want sex.”

“I settled for friendship, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” And he was turning into a darn good friend, someone she was able to confide in.

“Do you want to talk about Cathy?” he asked. “Dissect her for a while?”

“And take the pressure off of us? Sure.” She took a bite of the enchilada she’d barely touched, grateful her appetite was coming back. Cathy was the reason she’d accepted his dinner invitation. Amber, too. But she’d already grilled him about his ex. “Tell me what you know about her.”

“She’s fourteen, I think. And she’s originally from California.”

She scooted closer to the table. “Northern California?”