Sweet Return (39 page)

He wasn’t a fit partner for any woman, anyway. Christ, he could be on a plane tomorrow headed somewhere for some unknown length of time. No woman had ever understood that or been willing to tolerate it. Recently he might have thought about changing that, but he hadn’t thought about it much. Damn sure not enough to actually
do
something about it.

And he wasn’t willing to think about it now, either.

He had always gotten his thrills from the excitement and adventure of stepping into the unknown. It had been a mistake to let Joanna inspire him to believe something else might be possible.

Chapter 27

One month later…

Dalton sat on the end of a folding lounge chair beside his pool, saying good-bye to the residence he had called home for fifteen years, a tract house that had been built in the sixties. Buyers were at the title company signing closing papers.

He had returned from Texas with no plan to sell the house, but during the years he had owned it, he had occasionally thought of selling it when the time was right. With a real estate agent banging on his door with an offer no man in his right mind would refuse, the time suddenly became right. He had sold the place for a staggering amount of money to buyers who had no interest in the house but loved the pool.

Strangely, he had no regrets. He had been stewing over his future for more than a year. In his chaotic life, owning a house had represented order, but he had never really called Los Angeles “home” in the literal sense. He liked the Southern California climate for sure, and he had taken advantage of and enjoyed the lifestyle of being able to do just damn near anything he wanted to without criticism or judgment. He liked the convenience of flying from the West Coast. Other than all of that, LA had been mostly a place to stash his stuff.

But his urge to move on came from more than restlessness over what corner he would turn next. He wanted something different from anything he had ever desired before. It had taken him a couple of weeks to figure it out, but now he knew. He wanted to return to his roots. He wanted a steady woman to come home to. Finding himself homeless prompted him to make a decision he might have delayed otherwise.

Everything he owned that was worth keeping was in a moving van on its way to a storage facility in Lubbock, Texas. Everything else had been sold or trashed. He had even sold his old truck. He would get something new when he got himself settled, but until then, the Lazy P’s ranch truck would work just fine.

He had wrapped up his book and shipped it to his publisher.

By phone, he had helped his mother hire a crew of cowboys who had rounded up the yearlings and shipped them to the sale.

His little brother had returned to the ranch. He was on crutches, but at least he wasn’t in a wheelchair as everyone had first feared he would be. The day would come when he would be able to sit a horse again and do a limited day’s work. He faced a DUI charge. The deposition was pending, but everyone was hoping for the best.

Mandy Ferguson had gone to visit him and taken their daughter to see him a couple of times in the rehabilitation hospital. Lane believed they could have a future together as a family. Dalton was pleased his meddling had paid off. But that wasn’t the best part of Lane’s news. Mandy had been working on her parents, and all of them were inching toward a relationship.

Dalton had talked to his mother daily. Her physical and mental health were better. She had sounded overjoyed when he laid out his plans to return to Hatlow for good. Oh, he wasn’t giving up photography. He had spent too much time and energy building his reputation in the profession to just throw it to the wind. But he could work from Hatlow with more peace of mind.

Skeeter Vance had already built a road, and a bulldozer was working on a pad for the oil-well site.

Everyone awaited Dalton’s return to Hatlow.

The only person he hadn’t talked to was Joanna, and he doubted
she
was waiting. If she was, she might have that shotgun loaded.

His mother had told him the chickens had been sold to a pet food outfit, all except for a few Joanna had kept as pets. Hearing that she had gotten rid of them altogether had shocked Dalton. An overwhelming guilt gripped him every time he thought of her doing that. He had figured she would just move the friggin’ birds to another place on the ranch.

His mom still had the two donkeys. She liked them. She had decided to keep
them
as pets.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny velvet box. Inside it was a diamond ring that had cost him more than he would have ever imagined spending on such a thing. He only hoped he didn’t have to return it. Bringing it all the way back to a jeweler in Southern California wasn’t a trip he would relish. He could have waited to buy a ring in Texas, but he bought it in LA because he needed it for incentive to do what, deep down, he knew he wanted to. Buying it might have been a gamble. But hey, he was a gambling man.

Now that his head had cleared and he had thought through everything that had happened in Texas, he realized that his mother had been the one who was the real manipulator in the relationship between her and Joanna Walsh. Mom had needed and wanted a companion.

Not that you’d know, Mr. Parker, but your mother is a lonely woman.

Joanna had told him, but he had refused to listen. He had never taken the time to consider that his mother was an aging widow in need of friendship. To add to his other guilt, he felt a need to make up with her for ignoring her after Earl Cherry’s death.

Of the many words that had passed between him and Joanna Walsh, two sentences stood out in his mind and he had revisited them often in the past month:
You can trust your heart with me, Dalton. I’d never hurt you.

He believed those words. He believed he and Joanna had a future. But he knew he had hurt her, knew he deserved her loathing after the way he stormed out of Hatlow with no explanation or obvious reason. He had faith she would forgive him. A woman with as much heart as Joanna had wouldn’t give up on a hardhead like him.

Joanna sat at her desk studying a catalog of beauty supplies. Her life had calmed so much, it was boring. No trips twice daily to the Parker ranch. No worry about chicken diseases and chicken predators. No daylong trips to Lubbock and Amarillo delivering eggs. Yee-ha. Her monthly gasoline bill had been reduced to double digits.

Closing down the egg business had been costly. She had gotten a pittance from the sale of the hens and had applied every penny of it against the balance she owed on her house. The sad part was that the lump-sum payment had made only a small dent. Little by little, she was getting rid of the egg-processing equipment on eBay. Her mortgage money had gone to buy the equipment, so as she sold those items, that money, too, was being applied to the balance against her house.

All in all, she didn’t miss the chickens. Losing the egg business had been painful at first, but she should have gotten out of it before Dalton Parker ever put in an appearance. In reality, he had done her a favor. If he hadn’t forced the issue, she might never have faced the losing proposition in which she was engaged or had the nerve to shut it down.

She hadn’t forgotten Dalton by any means, but she was ready to move on. He had done something for her she hadn’t expected. He had made her feel like a woman again. She had even told Shari and various matchmakers who frequented the beauty salon that she was open to new male acquaintances, something she hadn’t done in years. In her limited experience in the battle of the sexes, she had found that one way to wash a man out of her hair was to find another one.

Shari had nagged her unmercifully for an explanation of what had happened between her and Dalton, but Joanna wasn’t sure herself. She knew only that though she had spent a scant amount of time with him, she
knew
him. She didn’t know where it had come from—perhaps from her long friendship with Clova and listening to her talk about him, perhaps from the gossip that floated around Hatlow like air, perhaps from her own intuition. And knowing him, she felt his pain and she loved him. But that didn’t mean she would spend the future pining for him.

She didn’t want to talk to Shari, or anyone, about him. The feelings were too private. What she had shared with him might have been brief, but it would go with her to her grave.

The front door chimed and she looked up. With the morning sunlight shining against the front door, she could see only silhouettes of customers entering. Now she saw the outline of a male figure that seemed familiar.

But it couldn’t be.

Nope, not possible.

Seconds later, Dalton Parker was standing in her doorway, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb.

Blood began to swish inside her ears, but she forced herself to keep her composure. “Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you’d left.”

“Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Uh—”

“I’ve got about a hundred things to say.”

It would take at least a hundred,
Joanna thought, her heart pounding. He looked beautiful, wearing jeans and boots and a red T-shirt. He had a long round tube tucked under his arm.

“This is my office. I guess you can say what you need to.”

He brought the tube from under his arm, his tanned biceps working as he flipped the cap off the end and pulled out a long, rolled document. “I brought you something.”

She sat in deafening silence while he unrolled the document and let it hang in front of him. It was a poster that looked to be eighteen by twenty-four inches, an excellent photograph of a shirtless, finely honed male torso lying on its side, covered by fuzzy yellow baby chicks. Chicks all over it as if they were attached—standing on the shoulder, standing on the ribs, two babies nestled in a big hand. She recognized the torso immediately. The American eagle tattoo on the left shoulder gave away the identity. She gave him the squint-eye. “That’s you. And those are baby chickens.”

“Mom told me you got rid of your chickens. This is fifty to start over with. She said you started with fifty. I figured I’d help you start over.”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’ll get you more. As many as you want.”

She felt her eyes widen, but she closed her mouth. “Dalton, listen—”

“I’ll help you build a new place for them. Mom wants to give you that ten acres where she’s had her garden. She said you were worried about water. There’s water there.” He proceeded to roll the document back into a tight roll and slip in back into the tube.

“I brought you something else.” His hand shoved into his jeans pocket and came out holding a tiny navy blue velvet box.

Her heart began to flutter and skip beats. He gripped her chair arms and turned her to face him, then sank to one knee, opened the box and thrust it to her. Speechless, she blinked at an incredible ring—a center stone of at least four carats set off by baguettes on either side. She looked up at him and, overwhelmed by emotion, broke into tears.

A wary expression came onto his face. “Are you crying because you’re glad? Or mad?”

Shaking her head, she sniffled. “You nearly destroyed me, Dalton. This last month has been—”

“I know. I did it wrong. I had to sort it out in my head, Joanna. I guess I had to get away from here to do it. I know it’s a piss-poor excuse, but—”

“Dalton, listen…”

“Do you want me to grovel? I’m groveling.”

She sniffed. “You owe me groveling, big time.”

“I know. I’m a shit-heel. But I’m honest, Joanna. You know I’m honest. And I’ll kill every rattlesnake that comes near you. I’ll look out for you from now on, Joanna. And I’ll be loyal.”

She looked at him, blinking, her eyelashes wet with tears. She was sure her mascara was running down her face.

He pried the ring from its slot in the box and picked up her left hand, but it was trembling so badly he had to capture her finger to slip the ring onto it. “My God,” he said, looking up at her with rounded eyes. “It fits. That’s an omen.”

As was typical of him, in a matter of seconds, he had taken control of the situation and refused to allow her to say no. A laugh burst through her tears.

“Oh, Joanna, don’t give up on me.” He leaned toward her and cupped her jaw with his big palm. As his lips covered her face with kisses, his opposite hand clasped her arm, dragging her out of her chair until she knelt on the floor with him. His arms wrapped all the way around her. “Don’t give up on me,” he said again, and they kissed and kissed. Finally his mouth pulled away from hers and he was grinning like a monkey. “I know you’ve figured it out by now. I’m back. For good. I need a place to stay.”

“Clova won’t let you stay at the ranch?”

She’d had only a couple of conversations with Clova since disposing of the chicken business. She hadn’t been able to make herself even ask about Dalton.

“That ranch house isn’t really home to me. I’m looking for a place with a good bed.”

Her heart was so full, she thought it might explode. Another spate of tears spilled from her eyes as she hugged him with all her might. “I don’t know. I might never get over hating you.”

“I don’t blame you. But I still need a place to stay. I still need a home. Will you take me in for the time being, Joanna? Will you go with me? Just ’til you get over hating me?”

“Go with you where?”

“Into the future. Wherever it goes. I figure we can build a house toward the back of the Lazy P, along the rim of the canyon. I can put a little studio separate from the house where I can work and I can help Mom and Lane take care of things. There’s a well back there with good water and we could watch the sun set over the canyon for the rest of our lives.”

He was insane. Outrageous. Complicated. Challenging. But he was also exciting and smart and interesting, and she believed in him as she had believed in no other man. There was nothing he couldn’t do.

They got to their feet together. Nothing, but nothing, could make her let go of him. She would never let go of him again for as long as she lived. She picked up her purse, smiling through her tears. “I’d follow a man anywhere who promises to save me from snakes.”