“My dad didn’t want me to grow up to be a cowboy, you know.” He knelt to put up the ramp, working quickly, hardly thinking about it. He finished the quick task with a rattle and clang. “Said it was hard work and a hard life. He wanted something more for me.”
“Is that why he didn’t stay and help Frank with the ranching?”
“Yep, but I guess he didn’t have the calling. Ranching is in my blood. That’s why I’m here.”
“Sometimes you get blessed with the right path to follow in life.” The wind tangled her sleek blond locks. Again, that brief flash of sadness disappeared as if it had never been. “It doesn’t always last, so you should enjoy it while you can.”
“Good advice.” He glanced at her cane, wondering if that’s what life had taught her. He had some advice for her, too. “Sometimes you feel lost. When you look down, you realize you are already walking the path meant for you.”
“You are a glass-is-half-full kind of man, aren’t you?” She led the way down a garden walkway.
“Sure. It’s a matter of choice. The glass has the same water in it either way.” He flashed his dimples at her. “Let me guess. You’re the kind who sees the glass as half-empty.”
“I’m pleading the fifth.” Dimples framed her smile, bright and merry.
The cutest yet. He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Speaking of glasses, I’m thirsty. How about we hunt down something cold to drink? My treat.”
“No, that makes it a date.” She grimaced in good humor. “Yikes. We probably don’t want that. I’ll get mine, you get yours.”
“Wow, I guess I know where I stand,” he quipped, following her down the breezeway.
“I’ve been on a lot of first dates lately. Did I sound defensive?”
“Only a little.” He was glad to be with her. Eloise was fun and interesting. He was looking forward to finding out exactly how much.
Chapter Four
“Thank you, Sierra.” Eloise lifted the iced coffee from the silver tray and took a cooling sip. Across from her on one of the inn’s comfortable porch swings, Sean did the same.
“That engagement ring looks good on you,” he told the waitress.
“Thanks. It’s taken some getting used to.” Sierra blushed rosily. Happiness radiated from her as she admired the impressive diamond on her left hand. “We have finally agreed on a July wedding.”
“This is news.” Sean leaned back, stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. He was an interesting man to watch, all long, lean lines, strength and old-West charisma. “Tucker said you wanted to make sure not to interfere with Autumn’s wedding next month.”
“More like in three weeks. Haven’t you noticed the flurry over it? You live in the same house.” Sierra shook her head merrily as she padded away, off to wait on the Neilsons who were at the far end of the porch, holding hands and talking intimately.
“A bachelor tries to ignore all conversations, activities or magazines with the word ‘wedding’ in them,” Sean quipped as he sipped at his coffee. “Self-preservation.”
“Typical. I suppose you’re the carefree-bachelor type. Never one to settle down.” He was handsome enough to have his pick of women. “You probably left a dozen broken hearts behind when you moved here.”
“Only one.” His grin didn’t lessen but the shine inside him did. His personality dimmed like a cloud passing before the sun. “And I didn’t leave it behind. I brought it with me. It was mine.”
“Yours?” He didn’t look like a man with a broken heart. He certainly didn’t act like one, not with his charm and easy humor. When she looked closer, emotion worked its way into the corner of his eyes, leaving attractive little crinkles. Perhaps he wasn’t as easygoing as she first thought. She gave the swing a little push with her foot, setting it into motion. “Are you sure you weren’t the one who did the breaking?”
“I was probably responsible for it.” His confession rang low with truth and sincerity. He gave the appearance of a tough, untouchable man but she suspected his feelings ran deep. His grin was gone along with his easygoing manner, replaced by a solid realness that was attractive and manly. He swallowed hard before he spoke again. “I landed a good job at a software company. I was in management overseeing this great project, but I wasn’t happy being trapped indoors all day.”
“That can be hard for a country boy.” She could picture it.
“I worked long hours, not that I mind hard work. I liked being a programmer, but I didn’t love it. When Uncle Frank called on my birthday in February, I admitted to him that I would rather be in a saddle all day. That he had my ideal life.”
“And he offered you a job?”
“He did. Temporary to start. To test the waters, he said, but I think he didn’t want to upset my dad too much.” He shrugged, glancing over his father’s disappointment. He took another pull on the straw, letting the cool settle across his tongue and glide down his throat. It helped wash away the tough feelings he was trying to avoid. “I gave my notice and talked my folks into seeing the positive side of this. I was really psyched. Uncle Frank has a lot of land and livestock. This is a good opportunity for me to do what I love for a living. It was my decision that changed everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“A special someone didn’t want a blue-collar ranch hand for a husband.” He may as well get it off his chest. “Meryl and I were engaged.”
“Were?”
“She dumped me.”
“Because you followed your dream?”
“That’s the long and short of it.” The country cliché was easier than admitting the truth. He’d loved Meryl. “I could have stayed, in fact I had the phone in hand to call Uncle Frank and decline his offer when I got the news she was already dating someone else and had been for a while. Hedging her bets, I think.”
“I’m sorry. That had to have hurt.”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard against the pain, which was lessening. Mostly it was the humiliation that troubled him now. “I made a crucial mistake, but I learned a valuable lesson. Never fall in love with someone who doesn’t love you the same way in return.”
“I learned that hard lesson, too.” She bit her bottom lip, the only sign of vulnerability he’d seen her make. With her classic good looks, smarts and kind personality he couldn’t imagine she’d been through something similar.
“Who had the bad form not to care about you?” he wanted to know.
“Oh, he cared. Just not enough.” Ghosts of pain darkened her green eyes and she shrugged one slender shoulder, as if she were well over it. No big deal.
He wasn’t fooled. “Who was he?”
“My ice-dancing partner.” She tore her gaze from his and stared out at the horizon, where the jagged peaks of the Tetons seemed to hold up the sky. “Cliché, I know. Gerald and I spent eight to ten hours a day together either on the ice or in the gym every day since I was eighteen. We even took classes together at the nearby university.”
“You were truly close to him.” He sympathized. He knew what that was like.
“I was.” Shaky, she lifted the glass and sipped, still watching the white puffs of clouds in the pristine blue sky and the visual wonder of the Teton Range. Maybe she was trying to keep her emotions distant, too.
“You had been together a long time?” A question more than a statement, but he wanted it to sound casual, as if his pulse hadn’t kicked up and he wasn’t eager to know why she’d been hurt.
“We were friends for the first three years and then it turned into something more. Something really nice.” Maybe she wasn’t aware of how her voice softened and her expression grew lighter as if she’d had the rare chance to touch more than one dream. She sat up straighter and set her coffee on the nearby end table. “For a while it was sweet and comfortable and reassuring. He was there whenever I needed him, at least when we were skating partners.”
“Sounds as if you two had a good bond.” He couldn’t say the same. He’d loved Meryl. He hated to admit he might still love her a little bit and against his will. But he’d never had that type of tie with her.
“It was nice.” She might think she was hiding her sadness, but she would be wrong. “I guess some things aren’t meant to last.”
“What happened?”
“Are you telling me you can’t guess?” She rubbed at her knee in small circles before turning away from him to fetch her drink. He didn’t imagine the hurt in the silence that fell between them.
A car accident, Cheyenne had said. But it was far more serious than that.