Gentling the Cowboy(31)

“She said you’re at someone else’s ranch? I didn’t know you knew anyone else down there.”

“You don’t know everything about me,” Sarah said defiantly. Thank God. Sarah covered her mouth with a shaky hand. A nervous laugh escaped. I can barely justify this to myself; Charlie would never understand.

The hiss of his angrily indrawn breath was merely more evidence that she was correct to keep some of this trip to herself.

“Who the hell is Anthony Carlton?” he demanded.

“Who?” Sarah asked lamely. How does he know about Tony?

“You must know him since you’re calling from his phone.”

Shit. Why didn’t I block caller ID?

“I’m fine, Charlie. You can tell Mom and Dad to relax. This trip is the best thing I’ve done in a long time. I’m actually writing again.”

He made some noncommittal sound that spoke volumes about his disapproval. “Where is this ranch?”

Please, please do not come here. Sarah reluctantly gave him the information. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let her go without it.

She wanted to tell him more about what she was doing there and how it was healing her, but talking about that would mean mentioning the past—and that had always been taboo.

Does he still blame me? Is that why he doesn’t believe I’m capable of making the simplest decisions on my own?

Maybe I don’t deserve this second chance, but I’m going for it anyway. In Texas, I don’t have to be who I’ve always been. I don’t have to apologize for what I failed to be. Here, I’m just me. Just a woman on a journey.

How do I make my brother see that?

“Charlie, I need this. I know you don’t understand it, but can you give me time?”

If you do, I may even find the courage to tell you the truth.

“I should fly down there . . .”

Sarah held her breath.

“But I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

A flash of movement behind Sarah made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Charlie said.

Me, too, Sarah thought as she hung up and looked around. The living room and the hallway were empty. For a moment there she’d been convinced that someone had been watching her.

First sex-starved, now paranoid.

Just remember, Texas, I’m writing a romance novel, not a thriller.

I’ll be fine with just a few weeks of memorable sex.

No need to scare the shit out of me.




This was a mistake.

When he’d chosen Fort Mavis, he’d done so for the acreage of the ranch he’d found and not much else. He’d considered the small population of Fort Mavis, even in the town’s center, a perk. The fewer people around, the less there are to avoid. In his years of traveling to train horses all over the world, he’d forgotten the problem with small communities: Everyone knows everything. Instantly.

Bad enough that the afternoon’s madness had been witnessed, but the amused looks from ranch hands who normally feared him was enough to set his temper boiling. David had ordered some parts for one of the tractors from the local mechanic. Tony’d hoped that coming into town would give him a chance to clear his head. He could tell by the way people watched him park his truck that the story had already spread to town.

He wasn’t two steps out of his vehicle when a group of three young men, all in their late teens, approached him.

Shit.

One of them leaned against his truck while the other two flanked him.

There’s a reason I hate people.

“What kind of trainer loses horses?” one of the boys sneered as he asked.

Without turning to look at the boy, Tony growled, “Get off my truck.”

His sidekick scowled and said, “You think we’re afraid of you. We aren’t.”

He recognized two of the boys as Russell White’s sons, a man he’d fired the season before when he’d heard that he’d sold photos from Tony’s barn to the tabloids. The man hadn’t left without a fuss. What was it about successfully silencing one man with a punch that made others want to test if you could silence them, too?

“I won’t warn you again.” When none of the boys moved, Tony half turned and grabbed the one who was leaning on his truck by the neck, pinning him to the vehicle and lifting the boy onto his toes. He looked the other two squarely in the eyes and they each took a step back.

“Let Keith go, Tony,” Dean said from a few feet away.

Tony let the kid slide down the side of the truck and released him.

Gasping for air, Keith said, “Did you see that, Sheriff? He tried to kill me.”

Another of the boys jeered, “He won’t do nothing about it. They’re brothers.”