True Love at Silver Creek Ranch(39)

Brooke reached out and took her mother’s hand. “I was so lucky to grow up with the two of you.”

Sandy blinked her suddenly wet eyes. “I know what you mean, sweetie. I feel very lucky, too.”

Brooke would never do anything to disappoint her mom—no restless need for a change was worth that.

Brooke didn’t want to be on the ranch when Adam moved in the next night—her family would help unload his pickup, giving her even more of a chance to look at him strangely or be caught alone with him. So she arranged a movie night with Emily and Monica.

That evening, she was walking across the lit porch when she saw Adam’s truck arrive. He should have gone right to the bunkhouse, but instead he swung around in front of the porch, left the engine on even as he got out to look up at her with open admiration. He gave a low whistle, and she flushed with embarrassment and a secret thrill. Standing still, she let him look. She was wearing a dark sweater dress and leggings with knee-high boots. Her short wool coat was bright red, and her hair tumbled free around her shoulders. She always loved to dress up. She’d added more makeup than the mascara and lip gloss she normally wore to work.

“Damn, you clean up good,” he said in a husky voice. “Who’d have guessed?”

“I’d throw a snowball at you if I didn’t mind getting my gloves wet,” she said, pretending to take offense.

“I like your hair down.” He came to the bottom of the steps and reached up a hand as if to help her so she wouldn’t slip.

Her heels were high, so she accepted the help. She still had to look up at him once she reached level ground. Even that made her feel all weak inside. There weren’t many men she had to look up to. She disengaged her hand.

“You’ve seen my hair down,” she said in disbelief. “I wore it to school that way . . . sometimes.” Hadn’t she? As an adult, she always let down her hair when she went into town for an evening’s entertainment. But she’d been far less of a “girl” in high school.

“You always had ranch chores or barrel racing after school,” he said. “Must have been easier for you to keep it up.”

She was surprised he remembered that about her.

“I played basketball, too, in the winter.” Now she was babbling. She should leave. But she felt . . . beautiful, the way he was looking at her. The moon was rising, and they were alone in the crisp, cold stillness, the light of the porch a beacon behind her.

“Another reason to keep your hair up,” he murmured.

Then he touched her hair with his bare hand, sliding it into the gentle waves and spreading them out across her shoulder. She hovered like a hummingbird, yearning. When he stepped back, the ache of regret surprised her.

She sighed. “Why did you accept my parents’ offer to live in the bunkhouse?”

“For exactly the reasons I said. It’s more convenient, and I like living on my own.”

“I’ve never done that,” she found herself admitting.

He gestured toward the house. “Why would you? Your family is here, and they’re great. Your job is here. It just makes sense.”

Then why was she thinking about it so much?

“I only started living on my own when I left the Marines six months ago, so we aren’t that different.” And then he grew serious. “I want you to know I didn’t agree to the bunkhouse to annoy you. I gave it a lot of thought.”

“I know.” She gave him a tentative smile.

He nodded. “Have fun at the movies.”

“I will.”

And she did, even enjoying a late supper with the girls. By the time she got home, everyone was in bed, and she slipped into her own soon enough. Though she told herself not to, she turned her head and stared out the window. The moon hung bright in the sky, and she knew if she were outside, the stars would look like iridescent sand sprinkled across the blackness. And there across a small pasture was the log cabin where Adam lay. Snow blanketed the roof, and smoke puffed from the chimney. He’d started a fire, and the windows flickered with it. She imagined how cozy it must be.

She kept picturing herself lying in front of that fire with Adam. No matter how many times she told herself to cut it out, her crush on him just wasn’t going away.





Chapter Nine





Adam looked out his window up at the main house, and knew when Brooke was home by the lights going on in her window. Though she passed in front of it several times, the curtains were gauzy, and he couldn’t see much.

He stood there for a while, holding his beer, enjoying the silence. Not that the boardinghouse had been rowdy, but there was something peaceful about the ranch. He was hoping it inspired dreamless sleep, but if not, at least he wouldn’t disturb anyone if he had a nightmare. They’d been fading gradually over the six months since his discharge, but sometimes, in the half sleep just before wakefulness, he still felt like he was back there, on patrol, in danger, calling in the air strike that had been the biggest mistake of his life. He shook the memories away quickly.