Page 27 of Wild Rose (Blue River Springs #1)

Wilder

For the rest of the week, I’ve stationed Rose at the main office and asked Ginger to keep her busy. With any luck, some distance will help this boiling pot between us simmer down.

Survey says .?.?. it’s making me want her more.

These feelings, these distractions are all too familiar—but entirely different.

Maybe not entirely. Because everything settling in my chest is that same warm, dangerous feeling I had with Bonnie.

That same natural instinct to be around her, to protect her. To be the hero she never really needed.

Not going down that damn trail again—chasing someone who doesn’t see her forever here. Or with me.

Especially not with Wesley’s sister.

It’s not just my friendship with Wes on the line. I need to focus on the ranch .

This crush—or whatever a city girl like Rose would call it—fling, maybe? It’s not good for either of us. I don’t need to be her distraction and she sure as hell can’t be mine.

But I’ll be damned if I didn’t check on her every night.

With or without her knowing.

I’ve been driving by the cottage every night since Monday. Once with a text—just like her friend Willow does.

And each night, I stay until her lights are out. Or at least go check on the cattle and redo my evening rounds before circling back toward the cottage.

Which isn’t until after two, so yeah, maybe part of my short temper these last few days is from lack of sleep.

But how does a man sleep when the woman he can’t get out of his mind .?.?. is afraid to?

It’s now Thursday and she checked in with me a few hours ago in the Saddle Room to sign off on payroll.

She looked good. It’s a healthy reminder of why I’m avoiding her.

The other reminder?

I’m on edge this week. The Callahans’ rodeo is this weekend and it’s the talk of the town, again. We took a hit for a few weeks last year—and the year before that. They keep making it bigger and better each year. As if they have any local competition.

My phone rings with a call from the front office and I answer on the first ring. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Hey, boss, that nice man is here again, asking to see Dallas,” Ginger says.

My gaze flicks to my brother in the kitchen. It’s three in the afternoon and he’s in pajamas. His hair is a wreck and he hasn’t shaved in weeks.

“Give me a second.” I lower the phone. “That guy I was telling you about is here again. Told you he’d be back.”

Dallas sips his coffee like I just told him one of our hands called out sick. “Fine, let’s get this over with. Send him here.”

“This is my house, Dallas.”

“What do you think we’re going to do? Wreck the place with a fist fight? I’ll just step outside and see what he wants.”

I lift the phone to my ear. “Send him here.”

“Both of ’em? Or should I offer to keep the little girl here?”

“He brought his kid with him?”

“Looks a little young to be his. Maybe his granddaughter?”

“Both of ’em,” I tell her.

I give Dallas a heads up that this guy isn’t looking for a fight if he’s brought a kid along—which only confuses him.

I step out as the tourist golf cart approaches the main house.

I nod to Jake that he doesn’t have to wait for them. Whatever this is going to be, something tells me it’s best kept private for now.

The man I remember from the other day steps out, then reaches for the little girl, lifting her out of the cart and setting her on her feet. She’s got dark curly brown hair, pale skin, and heart-shaped sunglasses.

The man looks a little better kept today—at least compared to Dallas.

My brother steps beside me onto the porch, wordlessly. “Hello again,” I offer.

The man tips his hat. He’s not smiling. Not even scowling. He looks .?.?. scared.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this again. I’m here to see Dallas.”

“How can I help you?” My brother moves down the steps. He hasn’t bothered to change or do much of anything since I told him he’s got a visitor.

The man surveys him skeptically. “You’re Dallas Thorne?”

Well, this isn’t going anywhere good.

“Way I see it, you can either believe me or you can leave. No skin off my back if you do,” my brother quips.

“Cole. Cole Hartly. That’s Ellie.”

Dallas glances back at the little girl, who’s wandered off to sit on the bench outside my porch.

“What do you need from me?”

The man scans him again. “You don’t .?.?. look so good.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion. Any reason you stalkin’ me?”

After a beat, Cole shakes his head. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry. Come on, Ellie.”

Dallas takes two steps toward the man. “Hey, wait a second. You take one look at me in a state of mourning and decide I’m not worth whatever it is you came here twice to say or do?”

That’s what I like about Dallas. He doesn’t hold back. Calls people out the way they deserve to be. Some of them at least.

“Three times,” Cole corrects.

“Sure sounds important. What, do I owe you money? Wreck your bar during a fight recently?”

Cole chuckles with a headshake, as if to say this just keeps getting better.

“A few years back, you .?.?.” He glances at the girl. “.?.?. you were briefly involved with my daughter, Tammy.”

I move down the steps, my heart in my throat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember.” Dallas sounds sincere, and I can vouch for his lack of memory. He’s not good with faces or people—unless you work for him or are directly related.

Cole removes a picture from his wallet. “Tammy Hartly.”

Dallas stares at it, his tone softening. “The singer.”

“She was. Died three years ago.”

My brother’s fingers tremble as he hands the photo back to Cole. “I’m sorry for your loss. She was a great girl. I didn’t know her all that well, but she had one hell of a voice.”

Cole smiles. “She did. That’s her daughter, Ellie.”

Dallas’s head turns to the girl. Then back slowly. “Why you here?”

Cole’s boot drags along the gravel, casually, like he’s not about to drop a bomb. “Tammy said she’s yours.”

Dallas shakes his head. “That’s impossible. I don’t have—I would have known.”

“Don’t worry.” He sweeps his eyes over him again. “We’re not leaving her with you—not yet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“My wife, Maya, Ellie’s grandmother, is sick. Need to take her to New York for extensive treatment at a good hospital they say they’ve got there. After that, we’re moving down to Florida to stay with her sister until .?.?. well, it’s something I didn’t think Ellie should be in the middle of.”

My brother’s face is a mask as he stares back at Cole. Then a quick glance at Ellie. “You take your daughter’s word for it?”

“Dallas,” I warn. This is where the disrespect needs to stop.

“It’s all right,” Cole offers kindly. “I do, Mr. Thorne. Look, I know this can’t be easy, finding out you have a six-year-old daughter.

And after Tammy, Maya and I never planned on giving her up for anything, but it would be selfish to drag her through all that if she’s got .

.?. someone else who deserves to know her. ”

Dallas sniffs with a light headshake.

“She goes to Blue River Elementary. She plays soccer.”

“Wait, what are you saying?”

Cole hesitates. “Before coming here, we told Ellie she had a father close by. We gave her a choice. And she wanted to meet you.”

Dallas glances back at the girl like he’s waking up from a dream.

“We’d still be in her life as much as possible, of course, but if this is something you both want .?.?. she’d live with you.”

“You trust me with your granddaughter?”

“Not by a long shot. But you are her father. I’ve been asking around about you for three years, since Tammy died, and hear nothing but good things.” His eyes roam over Dallas once more as if wondering if he’s got the right guy.

“Where do you live?” he demands like it’s a test.

“East side of town.”

“You telling me she’s been in Blue River for six years and I didn’t know?” Dallas snaps.

Cole scowls. “My wife and I have only known the last three. So you can either ask me to get off your property or you can talk to her while I’m feeling kind.”

For a second, I think Dallas is going to tell Cole to take the little girl and get off his property. But instead, he rasps in defeat, “Can I talk to her?”

Cole hesitates.

“I’d just like to sit with her for a minute .?.?. while you’re feeling kind,” he grinds.

Cole nods. “Go right ahead.”

Dallas starts toward the bench, then turns back. “You say she plays soccer?”

“Only girl on her team. And one of the best.”

A ghost of a grin flickers across Dallas’s face before he turns and strides toward the bench.

“Was this a bad idea?” Cole asks, and I’m not certain he’s asking me or himself. But I answer anyway.

“Bad? No. Brave and .?.?. selfless, perhaps.”

Cole looks at me. “He’s in no shape to take care of a child.”

No, he’s not.

“When you leavin’?”

“Sooner the better.” He watches them like he’s not sure when that will be.

“If Ellie is his, I’m not sure he’ll let you take her with you.”

Cole scoffs. “Oh, believe me, I’m counting on him puttin’ up a fight.”

I nod. “I believe it.”

Ellie looks about as interested in talking to Dallas as she is to be dragged out here just to sit on a bench. And Dallas, he’s grinning at her, then cocks his head, asking her something. In response she removes her sunglasses.

And damn, if she’s not his. Bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, dark hair.

“Ellie, say goodbye now,” Cole calls out. “We’ve got to get going.”

Dallas stands and for a second it looks like he’s going to reach for her hand. But he shoves them in his pockets instead as they walk back.

“When will we see you again?” There’s a shift in my brother’s voice. And for the life of me, I can’t read it.

“You call me when you’re ready. In the meantime, I imagine, you’d want to meet us at the hospital for some tests.”

Dallas nods. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m going to need to make damn sure myself.” He tips his hat again.

“Here,” I offer, pointing to my truck. “I’ll give you a ride back.”

When I return, Dallas is back in bed staring at the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” It’s the wrong thing to say right now. I should ask him how he’s feeling about all this. If he wants to talk about it. If he’s angry.

“What the fuck’s your deal?” he snaps. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really buggin’ you out.”

“Running this ranch by myself, for starters.”

“Yeah, well, what do you think I was doing years back when you were planning a life on the road with Bonnie? Think that was easy for me? For Dad when he thought I’d be pullin’ him out of retirement? Least you got help. Hear Rose is doing just fine.”

I glare at him and turn away, storming out of his bedroom.

To my surprise, he follows. “Something I said?”

“Just fuck off and go back to being a lowlife.”

“What, is she causing trouble? Flirting with a couple of cowboys?”

My jaw tightens and I glare back at him.

“Heard from Randy you got your feathers ruffled Monday afternoon when you caught them talkin’ to her.”

“It was six o’clock. They were all hanging around for no reason.”

He keeps his gaze on me. “Say a pretty girl is reason enough.”

I stalk away from him.

He follows like he’s got nothing better to do. “Now is this because you’re being protective of your best friend’s sister? Or you got your own eye on her?”

I don’t lie to my brother. Never have. So I don’t answer.

Instead, my eyes flick away, jaw tightening because I can’t deny it.

“Oh.” Dallas pulls back. “Well then—”

“Look, I’m not the one who’s in deep right now.” I cut him off because he’s clearly deflecting.

He walks past me toward the kitchen. “We don’t know she’s mine. This could all be—”

“Come on, man. That was your kid.”

He rests his palms on the counter. “I can’t do this. I can barely take care of myself.”

“Well, don’t look at me.” I stand across from him. “We have to call Dad. This is going to get out soon and I don’t want him hearing about it if it ain’t from us.”

“I can’t deal today.”

“When can you deal? We need to make sure this couple doesn’t leave town with your kid. Which after one look at you, I wouldn’t blame them if they did.”

“What if they turned up when Millie was here?”

“Dal, focus on the now.”

He shakes his head. “I need a shower. Then maybe I’ll go for a ride.” He turns back. “The Callahans are throwing their annual rodeo tomorrow.”

I nearly scoff like I’m not aware. “They can throw all the rodeos they want. If they got the money and stock to back it up.”

He hesitates. “It’s gonna be a bit of a hit.”

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. We still got the water, healthier stock. You never worried about it before.”

“And I’m not now.”

“If you don’t think I’ve got a handle on it, maybe you should come back to work.”

He exhales through his nose. “I agree with you and Dad. We don’t do rodeos.” He shakes his head, glancing out the window at our sprawling fields. “But we gotta do somethin’. Especially these next few weeks.”

It’s no wonder Silas stays in Denver. Even when hockey season is out.

This place is a shitshow.

Dad comes over and it’s hell at my house as he lays into his oldest son. Not for getting a girl pregnant. Not even for the extra seat at the table every other Sunday. But for being so careless to let six years go by without knowing.

I’m surprised the words “town” or “talk” don’t slip from his mouth. Then again, since losing mom, his focus has been on family and keeping our bond tight.

When his blame turns on me out of nowhere, I storm out of the house and head straight to Rose’s cottage.

If only just to see her light on. Maybe catch her moving inside. It’ll be enough for now. Something to keep me steady from the shitshow I just fled.

I hate the distance I forced between us.

Hell, I’m probably the only one suffering from it.

It’s stubborn. It’s unproductive and .?.?. I fucking miss her.

Doesn’t help that she’s been avoiding my eyes when we pass—and I don’t blame her for being mad.

The lights are on, but I don’t see her movement inside. I imagine her on the floor, painting. Or in the kitchen, cooking. Or hell, maybe wondering when I’m going to text again.

I’ve been texting nearly every night to check on her.

And I keep doing it until I don’t get a response. Or until her lights go out.

I pick up my phone and hesitate. Everything I type feels forced. Placating. Cowardly.

Wilder: Wouldn’t believe my night.

Delete.

Wilder: What’s it tonight, scenic or a creepy doll?

Delete.

Wilder: Coffee on me tomorrow if you turn your lights out soon.

Delete.