True Love at Silver Creek Ranch (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

T
he sun was already behind the mountains when Brooke saw Adam's truck come slowly down the road toward the ranch. She leaned on the handle of her snow shovel and watched him until he disappeared around the far side of his cabin. Snow was softly falling, making it seem lighter outside in the growing dark. She wanted to go to him, to ask if Tyler had come to the Huang house so she could reassure Emily and Steph.

But she let it go and turned back to keep shoveling.

A few minutes later, he called out, “Are you standing on the pond?”

She turned her head, pulling her cap back over her ears against the wind. “Yep.” His winter coat gave his shoulders even more breadth, made his hips look lean in his faded jeans. Her heart gave a dangerous tug just looking at him, and she forced herself to turn away.

“And you're shoveling the pond?” he asked in a tone of disbelief.

“I need to see how bumpy it is. If it's smooth, the kids can use it to skate, like I used to.”

“You mean the Chess Club Steph and Tyler no longer belong to?”

She listened to his boots crunch through the snow as he approached. “They can bring their friends. It doesn't have to be formal. And I'm almost done.”

The patch of ice glittered beneath the rising moon. The world was painted in shades of gray, the moon reflecting off the snow.

“I can remember coming here once with my dad,” he said, “and I saw you skating.”

She looked at him again, wondering if those memories with his dad were always bad ones, but his expression wasn't mournful.

“I took some skating lessons when I was a kid,” she admitted. “Then I realized I was never going to be graceful enough.”

“I've seen you on a horse. You're pretty graceful.” He dropped his voice. “And you move—” He caught himself and glanced over his shoulder toward the house.

“We're far enough away,” she said, smiling, the heat he invoked with his words warming her.

“So how's the ice?” he asked.

“Pretty good.”

“Do you still have skates?”

“I do, but you can't tell me you want to skate.”

“I don't, but I'd like to watch you. I'll finish shoveling while you go get what you need.”

He approached her and took the shovel, and they stared at each other, the white puffs of their breath mingling.

“Is this a date?” she asked, disbelieving. “Because you know, I'm not dating anyone at the moment, so my social calendar is free.”

“What happened to the ‘babe' guy?”

She grinned. “I had to turn him down. I can't juggle two men.”

“Did you want to date him or other guys?” he asked.

She leaned into him and put her arms around his waist. “No.”

He cupped her face in his gloved hands. “Good.”

She swallowed, afraid to say she was feeling more for him than simple lust. “If I can't date other people, you can't either,” she finally teased. “When I saw you with those women at Tony's Tavern, I almost started pulling hair.”

He laughed. “That would have been something to see. Now go get your skates.”

Her skates were in the mudroom behind the kitchen, and she ran there and back, feeling giddy. The men were gone, and her mom was supposed to be taking a nap until Brooke came in to help make dinner, so she had a little time to spend with Adam. She kept cautioning herself that nothing had changed between them except exclusivity, but wasn't that a good sign?

He'd finished shoveling the snow off the ice, and except for a weed or two frozen upright, the surface of the pond was pretty clear. He'd even found a blanket and set it on a log so she could sit down. She slipped on her skates and started lacing them up.

“Isn't hot chocolate the usual skating refreshment?” he asked, stamping his feet against the cold.

“Did you want me to risk waking my mom?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should have found a short skating skirt while I was at it.”

“Believe me, your jeans hug you in all the right places.”

His voice had that husky quality she associated with his lovemaking, and it made her shiver with pleasure to hear it now. With intent focus, he watched her take her first long glide across the ice. It was a little bumpy, but manageable, and she made a tight turn at the end to face him again.

“Impressive.”

He studied her from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his face conflicting shadows in the moonlight. She could see the cut of his square jaw, the darkness that was the cleft in the center of his chin, the blade of his nose, just the glitter of his eyes.

She felt—so different from herself, foolish and feminine and even giddy with the way he focused on her, the way he wanted her. Their affair had flamed and lasted, and if anything, had burned even hotter the longer they were together. She wanted him more now than she had that first night, and it suddenly scared her. What if she was falling in love with him?

And then he was coming toward her, sliding carefully along the ice in his boots, and she laughed and eluded him. He didn't fall, just changed direction, then pushed himself into a long slide.

“Not bad, eh?” he said, tilting his head so she could see the white teeth of his grin.

It felt so wonderful to be here with him, out in the open, flirting, teasing. Did he
want
her to fall for him? She couldn't believe that. He wanted to leave this place and never come back, and soon he'd have to find out about his grandma's exaggeration that had brought him to Valentine. But . . . not now.

“Did your brothers skate with you?” he asked, coming alongside her.

She darted away before he could catch her arm. “Yep. We did most things together, especially Josh and me, since we're closer in age. You didn't have a brother or sister, so who did you play with?”

“The kids in the trailer park. I played a lot of football there, in the open lots. It came in handy by high school.”

She did a little one-foot spin, calling, “Ta da!” when she struck a pose afterward.

He laughed. “I had my dad's horse, too, don't forget. I was the one who took care of old Star.”

Brooke did a hockey stop near him. “I remember Star! We bought him when your dad had to sell. Sorry to say, he only lived about five years after that.”

“But they were good years, here with you,” Adam said, relief evident in his voice. “I always worried what had happened to him since he was too old to be of much use.”

They fell silent. She continued to skate, and he slid at her side. He caught her hand and held it, and she thought it was the most romantic thing to be with him under the moon—even if the temperature was dipping into the twenties.

“I'm surprised you're not worried someone will see us,” Adam said at last.

“I could say the same thing about you.” She hesitated. “You should know that people have begun to guess the truth about us.”

He slid to a stop. “I hope I haven't made things hard for you.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” She couldn't be surprised he was more concerned about how it affected her, than himself. He was far too honorable for all this sneaking around. “Josh overheard us that day we kissed in the barn a couple days ago. He didn't give me a hard time or anything. He'll be quiet. Monica and Emily guessed, too. We're not as good at hiding as we thought.”

She skated around him once, then came to a stop before him. “Adam? Shouldn't you say something?”

“I've put you in the position of lying to your family,” he said soberly.

“I'm an adult. It's nobody's business but ours, and we agreed on that.”

They looked at each other, and in that moment, she panicked at the thought of losing him. Oh God, it was too late—she'd already fallen in love with him, a man who didn't want a relationship, maybe didn't want love. He wanted to be free to nurse his wounds and move on.

And then he took her hand. “If you're sure,” he said slowly.

“I'm sure.” Relief swept through her, and she pretended to lose her balance rather than show him how dizzy the thought of losing him made her feel.

And then she knew what she had to do—find a way to win him over, to prove that they belonged together, out in the open. She no longer cared that he worked for her, was done worrying how appearances affected her relationship to her family.
Adam
mattered—Adam and her. Josh understood—she could make the rest of them understand. But not until Adam wanted that, too.

W
hen Brooke dropped her skates and coat off in the mudroom, she had every intention of plopping her freezing butt in front of the fireplace until she felt singed.

But she found her mom in the kitchen, using her walker to move between the stove and the refrigerator.

“Mom, I said I'd cook dinner,” Brooke said, guiltily checking the clock on the wall. She was a little later than she had meant to be . . .

“No, you deserve to have fun, too,” Sandy said, giving her a smile. “I saw you skating on the pond.”

Brooke turned her head away to wince.
Damn.

“You haven't done that in a couple years,” her mom continued.

“I was clearing the pond for Steph and her friends, then Adam challenged me to prove I could still skate.” It wasn't like she could hide his presence now.

“I always said it's like riding a bike,” her mom agreed.

She said nothing else about Adam, and they worked companionably, preparing a shrimp salad for just the two of them.

Brooke thought about what her dad had said, that he worried about how everything affected her mom. But Sandy had been the one who helped Brooke figure out her passion for teaching—Sandy would never want Brooke to stay a little girl at home forever. Brooke had to take the chance that she was strong enough to hear the truth—some of it.

“Mom,” she began slowly, “you've been such a help to me as I figured out some things. It's like I'm finding myself at last, you know?”

“I do know,” her mom said, touching her hand. “In some ways, when I met your father, it was like I saw a whole new side of myself—but then, I know this isn't about a man.”

Brooke swallowed. One stressful thing at a time. “No, it's about being my own person, being independent. I've been thinking about moving into town. Emily's apartment is for rent, so I could have a place if I wanted it. A place of my own.” And then she risked a glance at her mother.

Sandy was smiling, her eyes crinkling in the corners and full of warm understanding. “I've been wondering when you were going to say something at last. I knew something was up with you. Of course you should have your own place. It will be such an exciting new time for you. You'll be in town and be with more young people.”

Brooke flung her arms around her mom and hugged her tight, feeling love like a warm blanket that would always protect her. “Oh, thank you!”

Sandy at last took her daughter's upper arms in her hands and gave her a disbelieving look. “Did you think I'd object?”

Brooke hesitated.

“Why would you think—oh, tell me you didn't assume my MS would play any part in this.”

“But I want to do whatever helps you, Mom,” Brooke said quietly.

Sandy kissed her cheek. “Sweetie, you are a good daughter—no matter where you live. So, will you need some help packing?”

“Now?”

“Don't you want to decorate your own place for Christmas?”

The thought seemed suddenly magical, and she grinned. She had so many new plans for her life: research to explain the appeal of an indoor riding arena to her family, the business plan to begin her own riding school—and somehow making Adam Desantis see that he could take a chance on loving her.

“Hey, Mom, let me tell you about my idea for an indoor riding arena.”

T
he next afternoon, Adam was breaking up the ice in the water tanks in the nearest cattle pasture when Tyler came striding toward him, hands deep in his pocket. The snow whipped all around them, forcing them to narrow their eyes as they regarded each other.

“Bad weather,” Adam said, hoisting the pickax over his shoulder. “Thought your mom wouldn't be able to drive you out.”

Tyler shrugged. “She was on her way to work.”

Adam nodded. “Give me a hand breaking up the ice, then we'll go see if there's anything to be done in the truck shed—out of this near blizzard.”

“A lot different from Louisiana,” Tyler said. “You going back there?”

“No. I need to be here.”

“For your grandma?”

“And other reasons.”

Once they were in the truck shed, and sorting the burn barrels from the scrap-metal barrels, Adam found a football lost behind them. He held it up and gestured for Tyler to go long.

Tyler blinked for a moment, grinned, then ran past the trucks to the far end of the building. They tossed the ball for a while with silent camaraderie.

When the passes were short, with only a couple ATVs between them, Tyler spoke. “You said I could come to the house renovation for that soldier.”

Surprised, Adam tossed the ball back. “Invitation's still there.” He had a sudden inspiration. “Maybe you could bring your brother, too.”

Defensive and wary, Tyler demanded, “What made you think of my brother?”

“Because
you
think of him, Tyler. And it's hurting you.”

“It's just . . . no one will hire him, and he's going out every night. I'm worried he'll do something stupid.”

His words all came out in a rush, and he seemed to deliberately drop the ball so he had to go find it beneath a tool bench. When he straightened, Adam thought his eyes were shiny with tears.

“I hope you can persuade Cody to come. I'd like to meet him.”

Tyler's shoulders slumped, and he suddenly slammed the ball down hard on the seat of an ATV without letting it go. “Miss Thalberg trusted me, and now maybe she thinks I tried to burn down her barn because of what Matthew said.”