A Rancher to Trust Page 3

  “Hold on a minute.” He studied Bailey. That muscle was jumping in her cheek again, and there was a tenseness about her body that he recognized with the instinct of a man who’d spent most of his last decade moving cattle. She wanted to bolt. Something about this conversation was spooking her.

  “Dan—” she started off again, but he interrupted, intent on circling back to the territory that was puzzling him.

  “I’m sorry. I sure don’t have any right to question how you handled things, but this just isn’t making any sense to me. Your parents couldn’t even stand the idea of me being your boyfriend. Me being your husband? That must have sent them straight into orbit. Mind you, looking back I can’t say as I blame them. How come they didn’t take you to file the paperwork five minutes after you got back home?” He couldn’t think of a single reason they wouldn’t have.

  Bailey sighed, but she met his eyes squarely. “Because I never told them we got married.”

  Okay. Except for that.

  “You didn’t...what do you mean you never told them?”

  “I didn’t tell anybody.” She looked away and continued in a rush, “Look, none of that really matters now, does it? We were young, and we made a mistake. I didn’t call you to rehash the past. I called you because I’m ready to move on with my life, and there are certain things I can’t do until we get this settled.”

  Certain things. The confused feelings swooping around in Dan’s chest turned to stone and dropped heavily into the pit of his stomach.

  So that’s what this was about. Bailey had fallen in love with another guy—probably wanted to get married. But she couldn’t, not while she was still legally bound to Dan.

  * * *

  When Dan didn’t respond, Bailey glanced at him. His expression had changed. The sun creases in the corners of his eyes had deepened, and his jaw was set. He looked tired.

  And a little sad.

  He caught her eye. “I get what you’re saying about leaving the past behind. No man who’s made the kind of mistakes I’ve made would argue with you. But before we do, I’d like to give you an overdue apology. If you’ll let me.”

  He was holding his hat in his hands, running the brim slowly around in a circle. He watched her face, waiting to see if she was willing to hear him out.

  She wasn’t. She was holding herself together by a thread, and this wasn’t a road she wanted to go down right now.

  “You don’t need to apologize, Dan. I’ll admit it hurt when you walked out on me, but in time I realized that even if you’d come back that night, things couldn’t have worked out any differently in the long run. We never should have gotten married in the first place.”

  “And that’s completely on me. I never should have talked you into it. But, Bailey, back then I was so in love with you. I was scared to death I was going to lose you, and—”

  “Please. Just stop.” Bailey stood. She’d had just about all she could take. “This isn’t all on you, Dan. It’s not like you kidnapped me. I let you talk me into eloping. And honestly, I was such a pushover, you could’ve talked me into just about anything. The way I see it, I’m just as much to blame as you are, and I take full responsibility for my own mistake. Now, I appreciate you driving all this way, but it really wasn’t necessary. Once the divorce papers are drawn up, I’ll just need your notarized signature, and it’ll be a done deal.”

  “All right.” He had stayed seated and was looking up at her, his expression carefully blank. “I’ll make sure you get it.”

  “Thanks.” Bailey reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out a crumpled scrap of paper and a pen. “Write down your email address, and I’ll be in touch. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to work.” She hesitated awkwardly, unsure what she should say or do next. How exactly did you end a conversation like this with some kind of dignity? She had no idea.

  Finally, she reached out a hand and laid it gently on his bicep. It felt like touching a sun-warmed rock. “Goodbye, Dan.”

  She turned away and headed across the yard to the unfinished fence. Leaning over, she snagged the work gloves she’d dropped on the ground...what? Twenty minutes ago, maybe?

  It felt like a lifetime.

  Her hands were shaking so much that she had a hard time getting her fingers into the right slots. When the gloves were finally on, she reached for the post-hole diggers. As she jammed them back into the hole she’d begun, she heard the boards of the porch steps creak.

  Okay, good. Dan was leaving. She held her breath, waiting to hear his truck door open and close.

  “Bailey.” He spoke from so close behind her that she jumped like a startled deer. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you. But...what you said back there. You were wrong. I did come back.”

  She flashed him an irritated glance. “What are you talking about?”

  “I drove around for a few hours. Did some drinking.” His fingers were clenched down so hard on the weathered brim of his hat that his knuckles were white. “But then I came back to the motel room. It was about three thirty in the morning, and you were curled up asleep on the bed with wadded-up tissues all around you. You’d been crying—hard—and you almost never cried. I’d done that to you on our wedding day, because I’d fought with you about driving back to Pine Valley and facing up to your parents.”

  “Dan, like I said, there’s no point in—”

  He cut her off. “I told you I wanted to go west, start fresh someplace new, just the two of us. But the truth was, I was just a coward. I was scared if we went back to Georgia, your parents would talk you into getting out of the marriage. Why wouldn’t they? I was a nineteen-year-old boy with a pretty serious drinking problem, a bad reputation and zero skills that would help me land a job. And standing there looking down at you, I knew they were right. I was going to ruin your life.”

  He stopped. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with conviction. “I don’t think I ever sobered up as fast in my life as I did that night. And yeah, I left you there. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I’m really sorry I hurt you, but when I think about some of the things that happened to me after that, some of the places I ended up before I finally got myself turned around... Well, I can only thank the good Lord that I didn’t hurt you even worse.”

  Bailey stared at him, the post-hole diggers still clenched in her hands. What was she supposed to say to that?

  After a second or two, he cleared his throat. “About this divorce thing. Lawyers can get pricey. I’d like to cover the cost.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that.”

  “I know you’re not. But I want to, just the same. How long will it take get it all settled?”

  Bailey blinked and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I’ll have to meet with the lawyer and see how soon he can draw up the papers. Did you leave me your email?”

  “I wrote it down.” He offered her the scrap of paper she’d left behind on the porch step. She took it, careful not to brush his fingers with hers, and tucked it back into the breast pocket of her shirt.

  “Okay. I’ll be in touch once I know more.”

  “Would it speed things up any if I stayed in Pine Valley until the papers are ready?”

  Bailey bit her lip. He wanted to stick around town? The idea made her uneasy. “That’s not necessary. Besides, you’ve probably got things you need to tend to back home.”

  “Nothing more important than this. I came here to do whatever I could to set things right, Bailey. I can stay for as long as you need me to.”

  “Like I said, all I need is your signature, and we can handle that long-distance.” She hesitated, but in the end she couldn’t resist adding, “But if you’re serious about setting things straight around here, you should stop by and make your peace with your brother before you leave.”

  Dan flinched. “Abel still lives around here?”

  “He does,
but not at the old cabin. He lives on Goosefeather Farm with his wife and kids now. He married Emily Elliott a few years ago.”

  “Is that so? He always was crazy about Emily, but he never figured she’d look twice at him. And he’s ended up with Mrs. Sadie’s farm to boot. He loved that place.” Dan’s wary expression softened. “Isn’t that something? Well, I’m glad it all worked out for him.”

  Bailey hesitated, but the sadness in Dan’s eyes and her long-standing friendship with Abel overrode her reluctance to meddle. “You should stop and see them, Dan. It would mean the world to Abel.”

  Dan shook his head absently, his eyes lingering on the semicircle of pines crowding the edge of the sparkling pond. “I doubt that. But maybe I will. I came here to face up to the messes I left behind. If Abel wants to take a swing at me, it’s no more than I deserve.”

  “I think Abel might surprise you. But if you don’t mind, could you keep our situation quiet? I wasn’t kidding before when I said I didn’t tell anybody about our marriage. Abel doesn’t know, either, and since it’s all about to be over and done with anyway, I don’t see much point in telling him about it now.”

  “I don’t imagine I’ll be on Abel’s property long enough to do a whole lot of talking, so don’t worry yourself. He won’t hear about it from me.”

  Bailey nodded. “Thanks. If there’s nothing else, I really do need to get this fence up.”

  “Need some help? Because I could—”

  “No.” She cut off the offer quickly. “I’ll manage. But thanks.”

  “All right, then. I’ll leave you be.” He settled his cowboy hat back on his head. His eyes were instantly shadowed, but she could feel them on her face, studying her. “I’ll be seeing you, I reckon.”

  Her heart jolted at the idea. “Like I said, I’ll be in touch once I’ve heard back from the lawyer.” She stuck out her gloved hand. “I know things are—different between us now. But I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, Dan. I truly am.”

  He took her hand and held it gently for a second or two. Even through the roughness of the glove, she could feel the strong warmth of his fingers. “It’s good seeing you, too, Bailey. Doing so well.”

  Flustered, she nodded. She pulled her hand free and turned back toward the fence line.

  “Be careful.” He spoke quietly behind her just as she jammed the diggers into the dirt. “Set those posts in good and straight. Take it from me, it’s a lot of trouble trying to fix up the crooked ones later.”

  Once Dan’s pickup had rumbled out of the driveway, Bailey sucked in a long, deep breath and bent to rest her head on the wooden handles of the post-hole diggers. She stood that way for several long minutes until her heartbeat slowed back down to something closer to normal.

  Then she straightened up, wiped her eyes briskly on her sleeve and went back to work.

  Chapter Three

  Later that afternoon Dan clenched his jaw as he turned into the long gravel driveway leading to Goosefeather Farm. It was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep the truck pointed toward his brother’s new home.

  This probably wasn’t a good idea, going out to see Abel right now. Dan was reeling from his talk with Bailey. Just seeing her again would’ve been hard enough, but discovering he was still married to her?

  He hadn’t been ready for that—or for finding out she’d fallen for some other guy.

  That part probably shouldn’t have hit him as hard as it had, given the circumstances. But it had thrown him some, and maybe he should’ve taken some time to lick his wounds before signing up for a third punch in the gut.

  Still, he’d come to Pine Valley to mend what fences he could—not that his plan was working out all that well. Bailey had been polite enough, but it was plain that all she wanted was to see the back of him. He couldn’t blame her for that.

  His brother would likely feel the same. On the positive side, no matter what Abel said or did, it couldn’t hurt him any worse than seeing Bailey had.

  Dan reached the end of the winding driveway and studied the view through his windshield. Goosefeather Farm had prospered under Abel. The old white house looked snug and well kept, flanked by rolling pastures, green with a winter crop of rye grass. Even the big barn sported a fresh coat of dark red paint.

  Dan wasn’t surprised. Abel had always done his best to take good care of whatever ended up on his plate, including his ornery younger brother. As a young teenager, Dan hadn’t much appreciated Abel’s fumbling attempts to fill their drunken father’s shoes. In fact, he’d fought Abel every inch of the way, and he’d followed that up by leaving town without so much as a goodbye.

  Dan sat for a minute as the winter sun beat through his windshield. Abel had every reason to bear a grudge, and most likely this wasn’t going to go well. It didn’t matter. His brother was long overdue for this apology, whether he was willing to accept it or not.

  One thing was for sure. Dan had better get what old Gordon used to call “prayed up” before getting out of this truck. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

  God, help me face up to my brother and tell him I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused him. And no matter what he says or how mad he gets, help me to remember that he’s got every right to feel that way. Amen.

  When Dan lifted his head, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Abel had stepped to the wide doorway of the barn and was looking in Dan’s direction.

  Unlike Bailey, Abel hadn’t changed much. He was still lean and tall, a muscled scarecrow with a shock of black hair. He was wiping his fingers on a greasy rag as he squinted at the truck. Dan wasn’t surprised that he’d caught his brother working. Abel had never been one to sit idle.

  Abel tossed up a hand in a friendly greeting and started across the yard. Dan felt sweat break out under the brim of his hat, but he switched the truck off and pushed open the door. Drawing in a deep breath of air that smelled richly of cows and hay, he walked around the front of the truck and faced his brother for the first time in over fifteen years.

  “Hey, there!” The familiarity of his brother’s deep voice hit Dan hard in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t usually see Wyoming plates around here. What can I do for you?”

  Dan cleared his throat. “Abel, it’s—”

  Those two words were as far as he got. Abel froze. Then he flung the greasy rag to the side, and before Dan realized what was happening, he was tackled in a hug that made his ribs howl in protest. Abel’s voice spoke roughly in his ear.

  “Danny, it’s really you! You’re finally home! Thank You, God! Thank You!”

  Abel must have been working on a piece of farm machinery, because the odor of diesel fuel was coming off him in waves so strong that Dan’s eyes watered.

  Although it could be that the fumes weren’t the only reason for that.

  Dan swallowed the lump in his throat, put his arms awkwardly around his brother and hugged him back. “It’s good to see you, too, Abel.”

  “Good’s not even close to being a big enough word for this.” Abel pulled back to look him in the eye, but his older brother kept a firm grip on Dan’s upper arms, as if he were afraid to let go. “I’ve been praying for this for so long, I’d just about given up on God ever answering me. But here you are!”

  Dan had been braced for a chewing out, maybe even for a punch in the nose. He deserved both of them for running off like he had, for sending no word back for so long.

  He hadn’t expected this kind of welcome, and he didn’t know what to say. Except...

  “Abel, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Nope.” Abel grabbed him again in another bear hug, this time knocking the Stetson clean off Dan’s head. “I’m not listening to any apologies. You’re home, and that’s all that matters to me.”

  “Abel?” A feminine voice called from the direction of the house. “Is everything all right?”
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br />   Dan looked over Abel’s shoulder. A slender woman with masses of light hair falling around her shoulders was standing on the steps of the farmhouse. Twin toddlers with Abel’s black hair peeked shyly from behind her skirt.

  “Better than all right, Emily!” Abel’s voice shook as he answered his wife. “Danny’s come home!”

  “Oh, Abel! That’s wonderful! Well, don’t keep him all to yourself! Come on into the kitchen, Danny! I just took some fresh bread out of the oven.” She beckoned enthusiastically and then turned, taking her children’s hands and leading them back into the house.

  “I don’t want to butt in—” Dan ducked down to rescue his hat, and when he straightened up, Abel flung one arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and began herding him toward the house.

  “’Course you’re coming in! I’ve got kids for you to meet, Uncle Danny! I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing since you left town.” Abel led the way across a screened side porch and opened a door, ushering Dan inside.

  The farmhouse kitchen closed around him with as much warmth as his brother’s unexpected hug. The room was clean and bright, with red-checkered curtains and flowers blooming cheerfully on a sunny windowsill. Two golden-brown loaves of bread were cooling on the counter, and children’s toys littered the floor.

  Before Dan knew what was happening, he was settled in a chair at the big oval table. A thick slice of bread sat in front of him, homemade butter melting into golden streams across its top. Emily set a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow before turning to pour cups of milk for the twins.

  The toddlers were staring at him owlishly. The boy had Abel’s blue eyes, but the girl had inherited her mother’s green ones.

  Keeping one wary eye fixed on Dan, the little girl flickered pleading fingers at her father, who immediately gathered her gently onto his knees. The boy stood his ground, watching the stranger closely, one thumb stuck in his mouth.

  “That’s your uncle Danny,” Abel told them. “Dan, this little sweetheart is our Lily, and the fine-looking fellow over there is Luke. They just turned two back in December.”