Reclaiming the Cowboy

“Mitch, that isn’t what I meant at all—”

“It’s exactly what you meant. You meant that I’m good for a few laughs. I can provide a little comic relief on a boring road trip. And I’m not bad in the sack, of course, so that part was fun, too. But I’m not the kind of guy you take seriously. I’m not the person you’d trust with your secrets, your problems.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not the man you’d trust with your life.”

She was shaking her head. “No. You’re twisting my words. This struggle with Jacob doesn’t have anything to do with my real life or my real feelings. I just had to get through this one dangerous moment, and then—”

“And then what? Don’t be so naive. Do you really think this is the last terrible thing you’ll face?”

He stood. Coming here had been a mistake. There wasn’t any such thing as “closure.” There was only loss and more loss. If he’d never seen her here, with her Titian-red hair and her backdrop of opulence, he could at least have kept the memories of his Bonnie intact.

Now Bonnie and Annabelle would be forever tangled in his mind. And he would always know that neither of them had really respected him. Neither one of them had loved him. Not the way he’d dreamed.

“Mitch.” She didn’t move, but she looked up at him with those complicated, beautiful, haunted blue eyes, overflowing now with unshed tears. “Mitch, please.”

“Troubles come to everybody, Bonnie,” he said roughly. “If you live long enough. People, even careful people, occasionally end up in dark places—in a courtroom, in a wheelchair, in chemotherapy, in disgrace. In tears, in therapy, in pain—all that’s part of life. And it should be part of love, too.”

“Yes. And it is.” She held out one slim lily-pale hand. It trembled. “It will be.”

“No, it won’t. You don’t think of me as a partner. You think of me as a plaything. And I have no interest in settling for that role in any woman’s life.”

She made a choking sound. He shrugged, thankful that, finally, numbness had set in and the pain had eased off, allowing him to come up with one final smile.

“Goodbye, Bonnie.” He cast one last glance at the purpling sky, lowering itself over her mansion like a shroud. “Have a good life.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_17e59b25-541b-5d5d-8b75-4b44568ae05c)

TEN DAYS LATER, when Annabelle arrived at Bell River Ranch with three suitcases in the trunk of her cheap rental car, she was carefully dressed—costumed, really—in worn jeans, faded flannel and scuffed boots. It was the way she used to look when she’d lived here before.

Except for one thing. Her hair had been dyed dark back then, and she’d quit coloring it long ago. Today, the red flame was tucked away in a coiled knot.

And her heart was in her throat.

She parked as far from the house as she could, giving herself time to adjust. She hadn’t set foot on Bell River land in almost a year and a half, if you didn’t count that night...the night her mother had died.

That night had been different. It was one thing to steal back in darkness as Bonnie O’Mara, to be seen by only Mitch, to spend a few secret hours in the comfort of his arms and then run away again.

It was quite another to show up in broad daylight, to announce herself to the whole family as Annabelle Irving and to face their questions...and, quite possibly, their hostility and rejection.

She’d decided not to approach by the front door, but to look around outside, hoping she’d find Rowena at work. Maybe she’d even find her alone.

Luck was on her side. There Rowena was, standing by a fancy structure that must be the new stables. Her black hair flew in the spring breeze as she talked animatedly to a crowd of people...guests, judging from their too-expensive brand-new Western wear.

Ro must be matching the riders to the horses they’d use during their stay at the ranch. Annabelle had left before the dude ranch opened, so she’d never actually seen her friend do this. But they’d talked about it so often. Annabelle would be cooking or ironing, and Rowena would be dreaming out loud, building the ranch in the air. She’d made it real enough to touch.

Annabelle put her fingertips against the rough splintered side of the old barn, unable to move for a minute, overcome by a rush of emotion. She’d been gone so long. Maybe too long.

She could already see how much the ranch had changed. When she was last here, Bell River had been a scrappy start-up business, struggling to lay its ghosts to rest and build a future as a dude ranch. Now it was sleek and polished under the bright spring sun, beautiful against its jagged mountain backdrop. They’d expanded the main house and put up at least a dozen new outbuildings.

And everywhere she looked, so many people. Guests and staff and...

So much change. What if it wasn’t just the physical space that was different? What if it was the people, too? They’d been kind to her once, especially Rowena. They’d taken her in as unguardedly as they’d shelter a stray kitten. But she’d repaid them by breaking Mitch’s heart. Mitch, the family darling, who could charm the rogue out of any horse or any woman. Any man, for that matter. His smile made the room sparkle. His veins seemed to be filled with laughter instead of blood.

Were they likely to forgive an interloper like Annabelle for lying to him, leaving him and, by doing those things, turning off all that sunlight?

She swallowed hard and tilted her face toward the sun, trying to breathe in courage. Maybe Bell River no longer had a place for her, but she must try. She needed to explain, partly because they deserved an explanation and partly because she intended to set things right. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, she was going to get Mitch Garwood back.

Brave words, considering she had frozen in place, half-hidden behind the old barn and paralyzed with fear. Darn it, this wasn’t how she’d intended to start her new life. She tightened her jaw and moved her leaden legs forward, crunching the last patches of spring snow under her boots and arranging a confident smile on her lips.

Rowena was so engrossed in sorting the guests and horses she didn’t notice Annabelle until she was at the edge of the crowd. Ro glanced over, started to glance away, then did a subtle double take. Her green eyes grew very wide, but she maintained her professional composure.

That made Annabelle’s lips curve in a genuine smile. Composed and Rowena weren’t words used together very often. Or at least they hadn’t been, back then. Ro was all fire and energy, and she never had seemed to pull any punches.

Now, though, she finished pairing up the current guest with a lovely young paint, then smoothly excused herself and strode calmly to where Annabelle stood, waiting.

When she got close enough, she fisted her hands in her riding jacket’s pockets and planted her feet several inches apart. She looked Annabelle over slowly, studying every inch of her face.

Annabelle had to fight to keep from lifting her chin defensively. Whatever Rowena was going to say, she probably deserved it, and she’d take it without complaint.

Several awkward seconds passed, and then Rowena finally spoke, with that wry, throaty voice Annabelle remembered. “Well,” she said cryptically.

Annabelle took a breath. She met Rowena’s eyes. “Well?”

Rowena chuckled. “Well...well, nothing, really. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Mitch said you looked like a completely different person, but then, he’s in a major snit, so obviously he was overstating.”

A snit? Was that what Ro called Mitch’s intractable anger? That was definitely understating it a bit.

Annabelle wanted to break the awkward silence, but she hardly knew where to start. She had so much to say, so many apologies to make. She wanted to explain why she’d come, how she hoped she might be able to make Mitch understand and forgive, but how to begin?

“The red hair is a bit startling,” Rowena said, tilting her head to continue her appraisal. “But otherwise you look exactly the same. Well, not exactly, but almost. You look a little sadder, but then...why shouldn’t you? Mitch says your mother just died and your cousin is a homicidal, moneygrubbing sociopath.”

Annabelle laughed in spite of her nerves. Rowena never had been a fan of sugarcoating.

“A sociopath who tried to kill you, for God’s sake. Nearly getting murdered is enough to make anyone sad, and—” As Rowena’s words broke off, she wrinkled her nose sheepishly. “And... Oops! I’m suddenly realizing we should have this conversation somewhere more private. Come on. I’ll ditch work, and we’ll talk. I’ll make you some tea.”

She moved toward the house, but then stopped so fast that Annabelle, following closely, almost ran into her. Her feet tangled and Annabelle reached out to steady herself on Ro’s elbow. Again, she had to laugh. How could she have forgotten how mercurial, how tempestuous Rowena’s emotions were?

“Hey.” Ro smiled. “It just occurred to me. Didn’t we skip an important step?” And then, with a graceful simplicity, she held out her arms.

A hug. Such an easy thing, but everything Annabelle had hoped for was written in Rowena’s dazzling smile. Ro was offering her the embrace of friendship, of forgiveness, of understanding.

Her chest muscles relaxing in a flood of relief, and her eyes welling with tears, Annabelle simply nodded, unable to form words.

“Well, okay, then!” Rowena enveloped her in an enthusiastic bear hug that left no doubt. Whether she arrived as Annabelle or Bonnie, brunette or redhead, enigma or heiress, she was still welcome in this corner of Bell River Ranch.

When they finally pulled apart, Annabelle felt a hundred years lighter.

“Come on. Tea and talk. It’ll be like old times.” Still smiling, Rowena took her hand and headed for the house.

The big stone-and-wood two-story structure had been so thoroughly renovated Annabelle was a little disoriented at first. But Ro plowed on, up the back porch and then through the charming, busy rooms, giving Annabelle hardly enough time to take it all in.