Mr. Congeniality Page 5
“Just trying to be hospitable.”
“That’s commendable, but there aren’t any guests here. We can all take care of ourselves.” Dean tried to keep his voice light, but he could tell by Gary’s look of reproach that he’d failed.
“Well, aren’t you a bundle of laughs tonight? What are you doing, running for Mr. Congeniality?” Gary pulled a beer from the minibar and opened the bottle. “When’s the last time you took a pain pill?”
“Last time I needed one.” Dean reached for his glass again and caught a glimpse of Annie from the corner of his eye. She looked so wistful, he froze with his glass halfway to his lips. When he realized that Gary was watching him, he took a quick drink and nodded toward her. “Is she all right?”
“I think so. She’s been going through a rough patch for the past year, and things are a little tender with Nessa because of it. But I’m sure it’s nothing some peace and quiet won’t cure.”
Dean shot a sharp glance at him. “What are you trying to do, send me on a guilt trip?”
“Nope. You got a problem with my cousin?”
“Of course not. But she’s not exactly dude ranch material, is she?”
“Underneath that glossy exterior, she’s just down-home folk. And if you keep thinking of her as a burr under your saddle, you’ll regret it.”
“I’m not thinking of her as anything,” Dean said firmly. He could have explained her resemblance to Hayley and what it did to him, but he couldn’t find a way that didn’t make him sound shallow and childish. Instead, he picked up his glass, slid from the bar stool and changed the subject. “I’m going to talk to Les. Let me know if there’s anything you need from town. I’ll be leaving before breakfast in the morning.”
Gary nodded and rolled down one sleeve. “I’ll tell Annie. She might want you to pick up a few things.”
Dean’s gaze traveled involuntarily toward the window where the setting sun created a backdrop of purple, orange and red behind Annie’s chair. Her pale hair gleamed in the fading light and the soft curve of her cheek set his heart beating a little faster. Putting her firmly out of his mind, he crossed the room and sat beside Les, where conversation, if there even was any, wouldn’t be so irritating.
He managed to avoid looking at Annie again until Irma came in from the kitchen and announced dinner. Even then, in spite of Irma’s efforts to engage everyone in conversation, Dean managed to avoid all but the briefest of exchanges with Annie through dinner, ignored the mannerisms that brought Hayley uninvited to their table, and shut himself inside his office as soon as the meal was over.
He stayed there, trying to focus on what needed to be done, until the sun had completely disappeared behind the mountains and he heard Les and Irma driving away. He stayed longer, until the footsteps overhead faded away and he was convinced that the others had gone to bed.
By the time the noises faded and silence took over the lodge again, he’d managed to stop thinking about Annie. But only because he’d given other worries free rein.
He’d learned the hard way not to expect too much. Want nothing, lose nothing were words he’d come to live by. But in spite of his efforts, his expectations for the Eagle’s Nest were taking giant leaps forward by the day and his fears were growing just as fast. One minute he’d tell himself that the Eagle’s Nest was sure to succeed; the next, he was absolutely certain the project was doomed to failure.
He thought about pouring himself another drink, but decided to take a hot shower instead. After checking to make sure the doors and windows were shut and locked, he climbed the stairs to his room, peeled off his shirt and grabbed soap and a towel, then headed to the other end of the hall where a set of stairs on the outside of the lodge led to the showers.
Even on the hottest and stillest of days, evening brought a welcome breeze from the mouths of two nearby canyons, and the temperature always dropped sharply when the sun went down. Dean stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened to the canyons breathing life into the valley—to the leaves overhead and the brush of grass in the meadow. And he told himself that even if the Eagle’s Nest failed, he hadn’t been wrong to buy this land.
He was lost in thought when a door opened behind him and light spilled out onto the darkened ground. Surprised, he pivoted in the loose gravel and found Annie standing in the door to the ladies’ room, toothbrush in one hand, cosmetic case in the other, a towel draped over the shoulder of her knee-length terry-cloth robe. A pair of bright pink flip-flops adorned her feet and her hair hung in damp waves past her shoulders, just as he’d known it would. She was so startlingly beautiful, Dean had trouble catching his breath.
Annie seemed equally surprised to find him there. Even in the dim lighting he could see her eyes grow wide and color flood her cheeks. She put a hand to her breast and laughed nervously. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” Dean tossed the towel over his shoulder to cover the hated scars. “I didn’t realize anyone was still awake.”
Annie ran a hand through her wet hair and glanced toward the darkened windows on the second floor. “I tried to sleep, but I guess we spent too long traveling. I couldn’t wind down.” She gestured weakly at the towel on her shoulder. “I hoped a shower would help.”
Dean swallowed convulsively and tried not to notice the smooth legs peeking out from beneath the hem of her robe. “Yes. Well.” He couldn’t find anything to say, and that made him feel like an awkward kid. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I had the same idea.”
Annie smiled uneasily, pulled the towel from her shoulder and clutched it in front of her. She lifted her chin and seemed to steel herself to talk to him. “I’m glad I ran into you. Gary said you were planning to go into town tomorrow. I wonder if Nessa and I can tag along?”
She didn’t seem to mind being caught without makeup in place and hair done, and Dean battled one brief pang of guilt over the way he’d been acting. He nodded slowly, even though the idea of riding into town with Annie wasn’t a welcome one. “Sure. But I’ll be gone most of the day. If you’d rather, you can give me a list. I’ll be glad to pick up what you need.”
“Thanks, but I need to go myself. I can’t guess what Nessa might want, and I need to do some personal shopping. Irma suggested that I might benefit from a more appropriate wardrobe.”
Dean felt better knowing he wasn’t the only one who’d been treated to Irma’s opinion that evening. “She’s probably right. Those clothes you’ve been wearing won’t last long around here.”
“So, is it okay?”
“It’s fine, but be ready early. I want to leave by eight.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m always up early.” Annie reached behind her to turn out the light.
Dean’s eyes readjusted to the dark within seconds…and he immediately wished they hadn’t. Her physical resemblance to Hayley was stronger than ever in the moonlight. To make matters worse, it had been a long time since he’d been alone with a beautiful woman who’d looked at him with eyes so wide or an expression so vulnerable. Far too long since he’d felt the unwitting physical reaction that he felt now, and even longer since he’d done anything about it.
He wanted to turn away, but he couldn’t seem to move. He willed her silently to go upstairs and leave him alone. The last thing he wanted was for her to get a good look at him in the moonlight and come away with the wrong impression.
She smiled gently and wrapped her towel around her neck. And when she spoke again, her voice felt like a warm breeze. “Thank you. I promise, we won’t be a bother. You can just drop us somewhere when we get to town and then tell us where and when to meet you later.”
“Sounds fine.”
When at last Annie turned toward the stairs, Dean let out a breath thick with relief. But as he watched her climb the stairs and felt himself responding again, this time to the gentle sway of her hips beneath the terry-cloth robe, he knew Annie Holladay was going to be more of a bother than she could possibly imagine.
CHAPTER FOUR
He sipped from his can, grimaced and set it on the tailgate beside him. He’d kept himself busy all day picking up supplies, having his shoulder checked at Dr. Mills’s office and refilling his prescription at the drugstore. He’d managed not to waste time anticipating Tyler’s arrival or dwelling on his brief conversation with Annie the night before. He was just glad Nessa had been there that morning to act as a buffer. Being around Annie was a whole lot easier when other people were around.
He wondered if he should have mentioned that Tyler was coming to Annie, but he dismissed the doubt immediately. She needed to know how many to cook for, but Dean didn’t want to risk anyone asking questions about his personal life. That was one door Dean liked to keep firmly shut.
It was just ironic that the past should come back to haunt him now, when he needed his concentration to be at its peak. When he needed to stay tightly focused on the present in order to carve out a future for himself. He downed the rest of his drink, crumpled the can and checked for a garbage bin. When he didn’t find one, he tossed the can into the truck bed and paced the side of the highway until he heard the bus coming.
Suddenly, he found himself jumpy as a cat. He hadn’t seen Tyler since the boy was ten and Dean had finally worked his way onto the Orioles’ starting lineup. There’d been a lot of changes since then. Dean wasn’t the same person, and Tyler wouldn’t be, either. It would be nice to spend time together and get reacquainted, and Tyler was certainly old enough to understand that business had to come first this summer.
The bus drew to a stop a few feet from him, kicking up a cloud of dust and emitting diesel fumes into the pine-scented air. A few seconds later, the door swished open and one lone passenger climbed down the steps carrying two heavy-looking duffel bags.
Dean told himself that he would have known Tyler anywhere, but he wasn’t sure it was the truth. The kid had nearly doubled in size since Dean last saw him. Tall and lanky, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, the boy had almost turned into a man, and Dean’s nervousness took a sharp upswing.
Tyler’s naturally dark hair was cut into short spikes and bleached blond at the tips. A pair of baggy jeans rode low on his hips and a tight T-shirt accented the muscles in his shoulders and arms. He glanced up the street, then down through a pair of mirrored sunglasses, and stood still for a long time, as if he didn’t recognize Dean, either.
That wasn’t surprising. The last time they’d seen each other, Dean had been caught up in his career and all the trimmings that had come with it. The hand-tailored suits, silk shirts and Italian leather shoes he’d worn then were a far cry from the straw cowboy hat, dusty jeans and boots he wore today.
Eager to get the awkward part out of the way, Dean strode forward. “Tyler?”
The kid curled his lip and dropped his bags into the dirt at his feet. “Oh, great. Now he’s a cowboy. What next?”
In spite of Carol’s phone call, Dean hadn’t expected hostility—especially not directed at him. It took him a couple of heartbeats to recover and ask, “How was your trip?”
Behind the sunglasses, Tyler’s expression oozed insolence. “Fine, I guess. Why?”
“I’m just curious. How’s your mom?”
Tyler glanced away and nudged his glasses up on his nose. “Her? She’s just peachy.”
Dean decided to ignore the sarcasm. “Well, I’m glad you made it. My truck’s over here. We’re just a few minutes from the ranch.” He reached to pick up one of Tyler’s bags, but Tyler jerked the duffel out of Dean’s reach.
“Don’t bother. I can take care of my own stuff.”
Maybe Carol hadn’t exaggerated. Dean kept his expression neutral and pulled his keys from his pocket. “Fine with me. I’ve been talking to my foreman about what we should have you do this summer. Gary suggested letting you work in the stables. What do you think?”
Tyler tossed one bag into the truck bed and leveled a glance at Dean over the tops of his glasses. “Shoveling crap?”
That might be better than dishing it out. Dean shook off the uncharitable thought and nodded. “Cleaning the stables would be part of the job, but you’d also help with feeding and grooming. After you and the horses get used to one another, we can give you more responsibility.”
Tyler stared at him for a few seconds, then hoisted the second bag into the truck. “Whatever.”
“You don’t have to work in the stables if that doesn’t interest you. But I do need you to work while you’re here. There’s too much to do this first season for anyone to have a free ride. So check things out at the ranch when we get there and tell me if there’s something else you’d rather do.”
Tyler kept his gaze straight ahead. “Whatever, dude. It doesn’t matter to me.” He stood that way for a beat or two, then shifted his mirrored gaze to Dean’s face. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t even be here.”
At least Dean didn’t have to wonder any longer how the kid felt. He leaned against the truck and tried to nip Tyler’s unexplained hostility in the bud. “Look, I understand how you feel—”
“Really? So you’re a cowboy and a mind reader?”
“I didn’t say that. I only meant that I know you’d rather be home with your mom—”
Tyler cut him off again, this time with a bitter laugh. “Oh, yeah. I really want to be there.” He wrenched open the passenger door and climbed inside the truck.
Dean slid in behind the wheel, but despite his efforts to stay positive, Tyler’s attitude was beginning to grate on his nerves. He ground the engine as he started it and had trouble shifting into gear. Finally, he had the truck running and a better handle on his own temper.
He glanced across the seat at the young man he barely knew. “If you don’t like my suggestions, why don’t you tell me what you do want?”
“From you? Not a damn thing.”
Dean didn’t know much about teenagers, but it didn’t take a child psychologist to see that this one wanted to provoke a reaction. But Dean wasn’t about to let the kid call the shots. He nodded as if Tyler hadn’t said anything unusual and turned on the radio. “You want to pick the station?”
A couple of different expressions flickered across the kid’s face. “Do you have any decent stations in this hick town?”
“Depends on your definition of ‘decent.’” Dean nodded toward his CD case on the seat. “You can pick a CD if you’d rather.”
Tyler started to reach for the case, then pulled his hand away quickly and turned back to the window. “What’s the point?”
Dean tried to match the kid’s cool and keep his own reaction hidden. He turned onto Whistle River’s main street and drove slowly through town. A few years ago, Tyler had been a friendly kid with an engaging smile and an infectious laugh. A boy who’d adored his mother and had been anxious to win his uncle’s approval. When had he turned into this surly, angry young man?
More importantly, why?
Dean felt a momentary pang of guilt that he didn’t know more about his nephew’s life, but he pushed it away. He wasn’t to blame for Tyler’s attitude, he’d merely promised Carol that he’d help change it.
Unfortunately, that might be a far bigger job than he’d first anticipated.
ANNIE SLID INTO A WINDOW BOOTH at the Whistle River Café and settled a dozen bags and her purse on the bench beside her. The scent of hot grease and fried food made her stomach slightly queasy, but this was where Dean had said he’d meet them at five o’clock, so she had to tolerate it for a little while.
Nessa sat across the chipped For
mica table with her chin in her hands, staring out at the spotty traffic and nearly empty parking lot. They’d been searching for things to interest Nessa all day, but Whistle River’s sparse shopping district hadn’t offered much variety.
They’d stumbled across a small crafts store that had filled Annie with hope for about three seconds. Nessa hadn’t been even slightly interested in anything they’d found there, but Annie had picked up two counted cross-stitch kits just in case. The only real luck they’d had all day was finding clothes for Annie that were suitable for this rugged country.
With her remaining energy, Annie dredged up a smile and leaned back in her seat. “Okay, so you were right. There wasn’t much to pick from.”
Nessa sighed unhappily. “That’s an understatement.”
“I’m not defeated, though. There’s always mail order and shopping over the Internet.”
Nessa’s gaze trailed slowly from the window to Annie’s face. “If Dean even has a computer.”
“He must. How can he do business without one—especially way out here, so far from everything?”
Nessa almost smiled. “I thought the same thing about a TV, and look how that turned out.”
Annie sipped water and trailed her finger along the condensation on the side of the glass. “You have a point, but I’ll ask him, anyway. I’m determined to find some way to make this summer fun for you.”
“I know how you can do that.”
Annie held up a hand to stop her. “We’re not leaving.”
“Okay, then. How about letting Brian and Steve and Tracee come and stay here for the summer?”
Annie laughed. “Nice try, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because Tracee’s parents can’t afford to send her here, and I certainly can’t pay her way. And believe it or not, it won’t hurt you to spend three whole months without boys.”