Wild Horses (7 page)

“And why, exactly, should I? Remember, I'm stuck in the scientific side of my head—I need evidence.” She couldn't resist tossing the words he'd used in the bar the other night back at him.

He flushed. “I'll leave a copy of the article on your porch when it comes out.”

“Like you left the phone. How nice to have my own personal apology fairy.”

His flush got a little deeper. Did it make her a bad person that she was enjoying the upper hand?

“Nora, I screwed up with the horses. And I'm trying to make it better.”

“You need to do more than try. Lee's a good man. He doesn't deserve this.”

He stood up. “I'll make sure he's okay.”

They left the bar together and stopped outside the doorway. Todd looked down at her thoughtfully. His green eyes, studying her face, brought back an unwelcome memory. Their first kiss. After a movie, in front of her dorm, her sophomore year. He'd stared at her just like this. Serious, and wondering.

She looked away, out at the empty street. At the mountains beyond. Before the drought, a stream had tumbled down the slopes and through the town. It was bone-dry now. She wished she could dry up her memories the same way. They seemed to reside in some underground pool deep inside her, perfectly preserved, welling up at all the wrong moments.

She looked back at Todd and met his eyes, facing down the memory. It wasn't real. It was just a ghost. Here was the real Todd, who had to be reminded that he couldn't just ruin someone else's life for a bunch of wild horses. Who thought she was a total sellout for working for the DRM.

Unfortunately real Todd's smile gave her the same feeling in her gut that old Todd had.

“Thank you for lying for me,” he said. “I know you hate it and that makes me appreciate it even more. You're kinder to me than I deserve. You always were.”

“It might be kindness or it might be stupidity. I don't know.” But she did. She was stupid for this guy. Even now, with so many reasons to be upset with him.

“Whatever the case, I will find a way to make it up to you. All of it.”

That felt too much like pity. “No, you don't owe me anything. Just fix this and we're even.”

“I wish I could fix more. About what happened before. With us.”

He had no right to keep opening wounds. Especially when his had never bled. “Okay, if you really want to do something, try to help my brother get on his feet. He's taken on such a huge project with this ranch. He won't accept help if you offer, so you have to be subtle about it.”

“When I dropped off your phone, I asked if I could help with grading the road. He said he'd let me know.”

“And that's code for he'll do it himself. Even if it makes him crazy.” Nora sighed. “But thanks for offering.”

Todd's voice was gentle. “He mentioned that you'd taken care of him when you were young. And it seems as though you're still looking out for him.”

The tenderness in his eyes surprised her. She flushed. “An old habit, I guess.”

“And you're looking out for Lee and in some ways, you're looking out for me. Reminding me to pay attention. To be responsible.”

She stared up at him, stunned. Wondering where he was going with this.

He smiled, probably enjoying the confusion on her face. “You may pretend to be all scientific and logical, Nora Hoffman, but I'm on to you. You care about people. A lot.”

She shook her head, baffled. “So in your twisted mind, me coming in here and yelling at you means I care?”

“It might.” He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to read her thoughts. Then he changed subjects so unexpectedly it took her breath away. “You know, I'm not dating anyone. Just in case you were wondering, back there in the bar.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and she turned away from his scrutiny. “I shouldn't have said anything about Tess. I wasn't upset about you dating. Really, I don't care about that.” She was getting a lot of practice at lying today. “I was upset that you were out having fun when everything was falling apart for Lee.”

“Okay,” he said, and she watched as the lines around his eyes crinkled in teasing humor. “Well, to make it really clear, I am not dating. Are you?”

She wanted to lie one last time today and say yes. But his skin was lit golden in the last rays of the sun that spilled down over the mountains. It highlighted his hair and deepened the shadows under his cheekbones. “No. Not that it's any of your business.”

“Right. Not my business. Got it.” Todd took a few steps backward, then paused. And grinned suddenly, as if he'd just had a thought he liked. “I'll just see you around, then, Nora Hoffman.” He was still smiling when he turned back toward his shop.

She watched him go, long and lanky in jeans that fit too well, his faded T-shirt untucked, black work boots scuffed. And she could swear she heard him whistling as he walked away, covering the ground quickly with his lopsided stride.

His words came back to her.
Dating?
Why had he brought that up? The last thing she'd want to do was date him again. Sure, he was gorgeous, but she was too smart to walk into the same bad situation twice.

Ever since they'd met here in Benson, all they'd done was argue. Last she'd checked, most guys weren't attracted to women who yelled at them constantly.

Maybe he'd say anything just to get her off his back. Like just now, when he'd said that she cared about people—making her sound generous and altruistic. He'd gotten her all wrong. She'd spent most of her life trying
not
to care. Trying not to care that her mom had left and never looked back, or that her dad was cruel. Trying not to care that everyone in this town looked down on her, or felt sorry for her, or eyed her with mistrust because she was a Hoffman. She'd cared for Todd in college, but where had that gotten her?

She was quiet and she kept to herself now. Life was a lot safer that way. Todd was the caring one. It was obvious in the way he'd made friends with her brother so quickly, in the easy way he'd been working with Tess when she found him inside the bar.

As she watched him walk away, he greeted a woman pushing a stroller past him on the sidewalk. Someone driving by in a pickup honked lightly to get his attention, and he waved.

With the crags of the high Sierra rising beyond him and the setting sun lighting his way, he looked as though he belonged. In fact, he looked far more at home in her hometown than she'd ever been.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I
T
WAS
A
little strange, fishing with Wade. Because ever since Nora had stormed into his meeting with Tess a few days ago, determined to make sure he did the right thing, Todd hadn't been able to put her out of his mind. He kept seeing the indignation in her gray eyes, and the way her dark brows had lifted in surprise when he'd mentioned dating. Outside the bar, seeing her hair lit up in streaks of blond over brown in the setting sun, it had been all he could do not to reach out and run his fingers through the waves.

It just seemed wrong to fish with a guy whose sister was stuck in your head. Especially when you'd promised that guy you'd keep your distance.

But truth was, she'd rocked his world the other day. Not just because she was gorgeous and smart and willing to march into a bar and go head-to-head with him. She'd also been a wake-up call, his conscience embodied and reminding him that his actions had real impacts on others.

Maybe he'd been caught up a little too much in the beauty of the wild horses—in the romance of their cause. He'd forgotten about the real-life consequences his choices could have for someone like Lee. And he was grateful for the reminder.

As soon as he'd left Nora that evening he'd called his journalist buddy. Thankfully, his friend had been interested in the issue and willing to rush the story out in time to embarrass the DRM and hopefully save Lee's job.

If it all worked as Todd hoped, Lee would have many years ahead of him, pushing papers for the DRM. And Nora would start to forgive him—for the stampede, for the phone, for his carelessness with other people's livelihoods.

Todd reeled in his line and picked his way along the rocky bank. Wade was sitting on a boulder, watching the water. “Anything?” he asked.

“Nope,” Wade answered. “But I'm noticing these gnats flying all over the place. I've seen a few trout coming up for them. I think I'm gonna try a different fly.”

“Guess I'll do the same.” Todd grabbed his tackle box and sat down on the rock next to Wade. He pulled out his container of flies and snapped it open. He pulled out a punk perch, fluffing out its feathery ends with a fingertip. “This might work well by the reeds over there.”

“Good call. I'm just gonna try to bend the fly I have. Make it look as if it's some kind of drowning bug.” Wade started reeling in his line. “You do much fishing growing up?”

“Ocean fishing,” Todd told him. “I'm from Seattle.”

“The city?” Wade glanced at him in surprise. “I'd never have pegged you for a city boy.”

“Well, kind of. We also had a cabin up in the Cascades. Summers there were my favorite time of year.”

“I bet,” Wade said. “You miss it?”

“Seattle? Nah. The cabin? Well—” Todd glanced up at the peaks above them “—I've got all this now.”

“Is your family still there?” Wade asked.

“My family and I don't see eye to eye on much. My dad owns a timber company. Seems as though his personal goal in life is to chop down America's forests as fast as he can.”

Wade whistled. “Bummer. Must have made him a rich man, though.”

“Rich in money, poor in spirit.” Todd cut a piece of fishing line with a little extra vehemence.

“Logging isn't your thing?” Wade asked. “People need wood.”

“They do. I've tried to get him to adopt sustainable practices. He just thinks I'm a liberal tree hugger with bad business sense.”

Wade smiled at the description. “So I take it you don't talk much.”

“Not at all, really,” Todd admitted. “It just seems as if every time we talk, we argue. He's disappointed that I don't want to follow in his miserly footsteps, and I want him to change his ways. I guess we both got tired of having the same old arguments.”

“Parents.” Wade shook his head in slow sympathy.

Talking about his dad brought an old familiar ache. Todd missed him sometimes. Not the coldhearted businessman, but the guy who'd taught him to throw a ball on the weekends and who'd showed up at all his baseball games. He'd loved his dad, practically worshipped him when he was a kid. Maybe that was why it hit him so hard when he found out what kind of guy he really was.

Suddenly Todd realized who he was talking to. “I'm sure it all sounds kind of dumb to you. I know your dad put you through a lot worse.”

Wade had finished reeling in his line and was fiddling with the fly on the end of it. “I'm not sure why our dad even kept us around. Most of the time he forgot to feed us, or clothe us. If it wasn't for Nora, I'd have been lost. She would beg from the neighbors when it got really bad.”

The image hit Todd like a punch in the gut. Why hadn't anyone intervened and gotten her and Wade out of that family?

Wade must have read his thoughts somehow. “People tried to help as much as they could. But the truth was, they were scared of my dad. We all were. He could get pretty crazy and he was a mean bastard. One time I brought home a stray dog for a pet and he just picked up his gun and shot it, right there in front of me.”

“That's terrible.” Todd felt his heart recoil, wanted to unsee the image of Wade watching that dog die. Probably any remnants of his childhood innocence had died right along with it.

Wade was quiet now, lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he needed some space after talking about all that old hurt. Todd focused on removing his fly, putting it in a separate case to dry off and tying on the new one. Then he squinted downstream through the fading light. “I noticed a bigger pool a little farther down. Want to try it?”

“I'll come down in a few minutes. I want to try here just a little more. I've got a good feeling about it.”

“Good luck.” Todd grabbed his rod and tackle box and headed downstream. It was good to be out here with Wade. Easy. His new friend talked about what mattered or he didn't talk at all, and Todd appreciated that. He liked the quiet, the chance to take in the cool calm of the evening after a hot day in the shop.

The rocks kept getting bigger as Todd went downstream until he was jumping from one granite chunk to another. The water wandered in between the boulders, sometimes falling, sometimes pooling as it made its way down the sharp slopes of the mountains toward the Owens Valley. He paused and looked out at the high, dry desert that rolled out below him. Here the Sierras started so abruptly, they seemed to be shoving their way up through the sage-covered hills.

He loved all the rough contrasts out here.

It was strange to think that Nora had never wanted to come back. Never wanted to live in the place that was quickly becoming his heartland.

But he got it. It was home for her, and home wasn't always an easy place to be. He should know. He hadn't been back to Seattle in years, and his childhood memories were pretty good compared to what he'd just heard about Nora's.

But the beauty here. The mountains. It seemed as though it might make up for some of her bad memories. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to ask her if it helped.

Because he really wanted to ask.

Maybe it was just curiosity—wanting to know more about her. Seeing her ranch, learning what he had from Wade about their childhood, was changing the way he saw her.

He'd always been a little frustrated by her caution, her need to play by the rules. When she'd refused to go to Brazil with him, he'd blamed her careful nature and told himself that they were better off apart. He saw himself as an adventurer and was sure he'd find some equally wild woman to fall in love with.

But now he knew where Nora's caution came from. Her life growing up must have been extremely scary. And she'd been responsible for Wade from such a young age. It was enough to make anyone cautious.

It was becoming clear to him that along with that caution came an incredible strength and resilience. She'd survived so much and it made him respect her even more. It made him want to spend time with her. To get to know the person she really was, not just the parts she'd chosen to share with him in college.

He hadn't thought he'd have a chance at that when he'd promised Wade he'd keep his distance from her. She'd been so angry with him about the horses, he figured she'd rather he stay away anyhow. But now, after her reaction when she saw him with Tess in the bar, he wondered.

She'd never admit it, but she'd been jealous. And he'd liked that enough to throw out the information that he wasn't dating anyone. And watch the way the color had come over her face, even while she'd pretended she couldn't care less.

He'd just have to tell Wade that he might have feelings for his sister. Hopefully Wade would appreciate the honesty, even if he was pissed off about the feelings part.

Todd took a deep breath. Now was the perfect time to tell him. It would be best to just get it over with.

But when he turned to head back, he saw Wade slip and go down hard on a rock and slide toward the stream.

Todd dropped his rod and ran, leaping from rock to rock, his bum leg shooting stabs of pain with every step. He ignored the hurt. Because nothing else mattered but getting to Wade before he slid all the way into the water.

* * *

N
ORA
GLANCED
AT
the time displayed on her new phone. It was dark out, the sun had set a couple hours ago and there was still no sign of Wade. She knew it was silly to worry. He'd been through active duty in a war, and here she was worrying because he wasn't back from a fishing trip. But worrying about him was a lifelong habit at this point. She didn't really know how to stop.

Her eyes blurred a little as she stared at the display on the phone. She'd found it on her doorstep when she returned home from work a few days ago. Todd had wrapped the box and tied it with some twine, a sprig of wild sage knotted in the bow. That small addition of beauty felt significant. Maybe just because she loved sagebrush so much. Or maybe because he knew that she did.

She reached across to where the dried sage lay on the table and crushed a leaf between her fingers, inhaling the spicy odor. Her eyes strayed to the note again. “I'm sorry—for so much.” Typical male. Cryptic and leaving her wondering what, exactly, he meant.

Nora stretched and turned back to her laptop, trying to focus on the data she was entering into a spreadsheet. She was spending her evening recording the density of native bunch grass growth in arroyos frequented by the mustangs on a daily basis. She needed to get it done tonight, because she was missing work tomorrow. Their first cattle were being delivered and she'd promised Wade she'd take the day off to help.

The numbers on the screen swam in front of her eyes. She glanced at the clock again, but only a minute had gone by. Yawning, she closed her laptop and stumbled to the couch. She'd lie down for a moment and close her eyes. Then she'd get back to work.

She must have dozed off because the sound of the key in the lock had her sitting bolt upright in the dim room. “Wade?” she called. No one answered and she walked quickly to the front door, pulling it open and flipping on the porch light. Todd's truck was out front, the headlights illuminating the weed-strewn front yard, and Todd was helping Wade out of the passenger door. Nora was down the steps in a flash, barely noticing the sharp gravel under her bare feet. “What happened to him?” she shouted at Todd.

“I'm right here, Nora.” Wade was glowering at her, his shoulder hunched at an odd angle. “I fell on a rock. Threw my shoulder out.”

“Dislocated it,” Todd added. “Your brother is tough. He had me pop it back into place. Talked me through the whole damn thing.”

“Why didn't you call?”

Wade exchanged a look with Todd that was pure exasperated male before he stated the obvious. “We didn't have any cell phone reception where we were.”

Todd tried to suppress a smile, but Nora saw it. Great, now her brother and her ex had gone off on a manly fishing trip, manfully handled an accident together and were speaking a secret man language.

“You would have had reception once you were on the road,” she threw back at him. “I was worried.”

“You were sleeping,” Wade said, rolling his eyes a little.

“I was worrying,” she countered.

“There are pillow lines on your face.” Wade's smile was more of a grimace. He was obviously still in pain.

“You need to come inside.” Nora scrubbed at her cheek as she walked ahead of them to hold open the front door. Wade, leaning on his new best friend, shuffled up the steps.

“Hurt much?” she asked.

Her brother glared at her. “Been through worse.”

“You'll need to have a doctor look at it first thing tomorrow.”

“We've got our cattle coming first thing tomorrow. No doctor.”

“Yes, a doctor,” Nora said firmly. “Look at you. You're about to pass out from the pain. You probably broke some ribs or something when you fell. You're going to the doctor and I'll handle the delivery.”

“You can't handle it by yourself.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “What do you think I did when we were kids? Dad would get cattle and forget to feed them. Someone had to take care of them.”

“Nora, I can help you out tomorrow,” Todd offered as he gently eased himself out from under Wade's arm.

“What do you know about cattle?” she snapped.

“Nora, be cool,” Wade admonished.

“I don't know much about cattle,” Todd admitted. “But I know a fair amount about horses. And I'm a fast learner.”

“Let him help.” Wade was dripping water all over the floor.

Nora ran into the hall bath and came out with towels for him. “You're soaked. You fell in?”

“Kind of.” He glanced at Todd. “Hero here fished me out before I got in too deep.”

“It was nothing,” Todd said quietly. “You would have done the same for me.”