“But he won’t,” she said as she parked the pickup near the back door. “He won’t leave me and he’ll never betray me again!” Hearing her own voice argue against the doubts in her mind, she experienced a sudden premonition of dread.
Tory unpacked the groceries and after changing from the linen business suit she had worn to meet with the bank’s loan officer, she drove the pickup to the stables, unloaded the heavy sacks of grain and stacked them in the feed bins against the wall.
Her eyes wandered lovingly over the clean wooden stalls, and she noted the shining buckets that were hung near the mangers. The smell of horses, leather and saddle soap combined with the sweet scent of oats and freshly cut hay. Tory gazed through the window. Against the backdrop of long-needled pines, Governor was grazing contentedly, his laminitis nearly cured. A distant sound caught his attention. He lifted his graceful dark head and pricked his ears forward, before pawing the ground impatiently and tossing his head to the sky. Tory’s heart swelled with pride as she watched the magnificent stallion, a horse she had cared for since he was a fiery young colt.
She walked outside and closed the door of the stables behind her. Her eyes scanned the horizon and the rolling fields leading toward the craggy snowcapped mountains. What would she do if she lost the Lazy W? Leaning against the fence she could feel her brows draw together. The thought of losing the ranch was sobering and her small chin lifted in defiance against the fates that sought to steal her home and livelihood from her.
I can’t, she thought to herself, slowly clenching her fists. No matter what else happens, I can’t lose this ranch. Tory had always believed that where there was a will, there was a way. So it was with the Lazy W. She would find a way to keep the ranch, no matter what. Livestock could be sold, as well as pieces of machinery, if need be. And there were several parts of the ranch that could be parceled off without really affecting the day-to-day operations. The fields used for growing hay could be sold and she could buy the hay she needed from other ranchers. And there was always Devil’s Ridge. Though Keith now owned that parcel, it could be sold or mortgaged.
She leaned on the fence and sighed. If things had gone differently, Devil’s Ridge would now be where her father and mother would have retired and Keith would be running the ranch. Tory could have married Trask, and had several precious children to love…
“Stop it,” she muttered to herself, slapping the fence post and dismissing her daydreams. “If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.”
Trying to shake the mood of desperation that had been with her since leaving the bank, Tory saddled her favorite palomino mare and mounted the spirited horse. After walking through the series of paddocks surrounding the stables, she urged the small horse into a gallop through the fields surrounding the main buildings of the ranch. Tory really didn’t know where she was going, but she felt compelled to get away from the problems at the Lazy W.
The mare was eager to stretch her legs and Tory leaned forward in the saddle, encouraging the little horse. The only sounds she could hear were the thudding of the mare’s hooves against the summer-hard ground and the pounding of her own heart. As the palomino raced toward the lake in the largest pasture, Tory felt the sting of the wind tangle her hair and force tears to her eyes. As if stolen by the wind, the pressures of running the ranch ebbed from Tory’s mind and she gave herself up to the breathless exhilaration of the horse’s sprint.
“You’re just what I needed,” she confided to the mare as she slowly reined the horse to a stop. Tory slid out of the saddle and let the horse drink from the clear lake. The late-afternoon sky reflected on the spring-fed pond and the scent of newly mown hay drifted over the land. Her land. The land both she and her father had worked to keep in the family.
While the mare grazed nearby, Tory propped her back against a solitary pine tree and stared at the horizon to the west. Misty white clouds clung to the uppermost peaks of the craggy snow-covered mountains in the distance. Closer, in the forested foothills, the distinct rocky spine of Devil’s Ridge was visible.
Despite her earlier vows to herself, Tory’s thoughts centered on the ridge and the afternoon she had spent with Trask just a few short weeks before.
Trask. His image flitted seductively throu
gh her mind.
He was the one man she should hate but couldn’t. Despite the deceit of the past and the uncertainty of the future, Tory loved him with all of her heart. The past few weeks even Keith seeemd to have thawed and for the first time Tory thought there was actually a chance of a future with the man she loved. She tossed a pebble into the lake and watched the ever-widening circles spread over the calm water.
So what about the anonymous note, the dead calves, the rifle shot on Devil’s Ridge, the threats? her persistent mind nagged.
With lines of concern creasing her brow, Tory plucked a piece of grass from the ground and twirled it in her fingers. When all of this is behind us, she thought, envisioning Trask’s face, then there will be time for you and me. Alone. Without the doubts. Without the lies…
The sound of an approaching horse caught Tory’s attention. The mare lifted her head and nickered softly to the approaching horse and rider before grazing again.
Tory shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and recognized a large buckskin gelding and the man astride the horse. A smile eased over her features at the sight of Trask riding the gelding. Dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, bareheaded to the sun, he looked as comfortable in the saddle as he did in a Senate subcommittee.
Tory forced herself to her feet and dusted her hands together as Trask dismounted and tethered the gelding near Tory’s mare. “I was just thinking about you,” she admitted, her lips lifting into a welcoming smile. “How did you know where to find me?”
“One of the hands, Eldon—at least I think that’s his name—” Tory nodded. “He saw you leave and told me which direction to take after saddling the buckskin for me.”
“So much for privacy,” she murmured.
“I didn’t think you’d mind.” He walked over to her and gently pulled her against him. Immediately she felt her body respond and the dormant stirrings of desire begin to waken deep in her soul.
“I don’t, senator. Not much, anyway,” she said teasingly, cocking her head upward to gaze at him. The late-afternoon sun caught in her hair, streaking the tangled auburn strands with fiery highlights of gold.
When she looked deep into his eyes she noticed the worry lingering in his gaze. The tautness of his skin as it stretched over his cheekbones and the furrow of his brow made her sense trouble. “Something’s wrong,” she said, feeling her throat constrict with dread.
He tried to pass off her fears with a patient smile, but his blue eyes remained intense, dark with a secret. “I was just thinking that it’s about time we got married.”
“What!” Though what he was saying was exactly what she wanted to hear, she couldn’t hide the astonishment in her eyes.
“Don’t look so shocked,” he said coaxingly, kissing her tenderly on the forehead and squeezing his eyes shut against the possibility that he might never hold her again. “You know that it’s something I’ve been talking about for the past three weeks.”
“Wait a minute. What’s going on? I thought we had an understanding that we had to get things settled between us. What about the note and the dead calves and your theory about another person being involved in the Quarter Horse swindle—”
“None of that will change.” His voice was calm, his jaw hard with determination.