But instead of contentment, she felt awkward and dirty. As if she’d done something wrong. Figuring out why didn’t take an advanced degree in psychology. This had a whole lot to do with her competition with Skye. In theory, she’d just won the round. So why did she feel so much like throwing up?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SKYE EASED her horse west, heading for the larger herd of Cassidy cattle. Fidela had said Mitch was checking on them this afternoon. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his visit that morning and thought if she saw him and talked to him and maybe he pissed her off, she could clear her head. She had enough going on that she didn’t need to be mentally preoccupied with him, too.
She saw him on the north side of the herd. One of the dogs caught her scent, spun and barked. Mitch reined in his horse before turning toward her. She watched him ride closer.
He moved easily in the saddle, despite the loss of his leg and his time away from the ranch. Maybe that was something the body didn’t forget. Maybe the movement was so familiar it was ingrained in the muscles. Like making love.
He looked good-like something out of a movie. Tall and straight. Powerful.
Sexy.
She didn’t want to think about his body or touching him or how he made her feel things no one else had, but the images were there, along with the memories. The feel of his hands on her body haunted her.
He rode up to her, his cowboy hat shading his eyes.
“You’re getting around,” she said, motioning to the horse.
“He’s trained special so he doesn’t expect anything from my left foot. I can mount on the other side, as well. Which makes it easier.”
“They can do that?”
He grinned. “A horse isn’t born expecting a rider at all, Skye.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Arturo find him for you?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a good man. You’re lucky to have him.”
“I know.”
She felt a little awkward and not sure what to say. She wanted to know more about how Mitch was doing with his leg. He was off crutches, which was good. But was he allowing himself to continue to heal? Was he pushing too much? Then she reminded herself it wasn’t her business. That they weren’t together. In fact, a case could be made that Mitch was the enemy.
“What’s going on, Skye?” he asked. “You came looking for me for a reason.”
There were a thousand things she could say, but she settled on the truth. “I thought we could fight.”
“What?”
“I’m having a bad day. No. Make that a bad quarter. The foundation is still shaky. We’ve confirmed the second set of books were loaded remotely, which means Garth has been able to break through our computer security. I have staff members who are thinking of quitting. I told my CFO what’s happening and, while she’s sympathetic, I don’t know how long she’s going to stay. As she pointed out, in this business, reputation is everything. People think I’m dishonest. I can’t stand that.”
“No one who knows you thinks that.”
“What about the grandmother in Indiana who sent in five dollars? What does she think? Or the kid in Reno who goes to bed hungry because instead of sending the food bank a check we had to pay lawyers and computer experts? What will they think of me?”
He moved his horse closer and touched her arm. “They don’t know who you are,” he said gently.
“Not specifically. But they’ll hear that someone in the foundation took a bunch of money. They’ll believe I did that to them.”
“You can only fight the battle you’re in. The others have to wait.”
He was being reasonable. Talk about annoying. “I hate Garth. I swear, if I get the chance, I’m going to crush him like a bug.”
“I’ll help.”
She looked at him. “I want to believe you.”
“Give it time. You will.”
She smiled. “Such confidence.”
“You know me, Skye. Am I wrong?”
She shook her head. Given time and motivation, Mitch could do anything he wanted-especially where she was concerned.
“Besides,” he said. “I owe you. You were there for me when my parents died. That was a hard summer. You made it bearable.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to think about that summer when Mitch had suffered and she’d tried to help and they’d fallen in love.
“Anyone else would have done the same,” she said.
“But it wasn’t anyone. It was you.”
“I wanted to help,” she said. “Which isn’t exactly a selfless reason, so don’t make too much of it. I felt so trapped and spineless back then. Once I got home from finishing school, Jed started talking about me getting married. I felt like it was the 1800s and I was the plantation owner’s daughter.”
Mitch seemed to tense up, as if he didn’t want to talk about that time. She’d left him because of Jed, so she couldn’t really blame him for that. But before she could change the subject, he said, “That’s how you acted. You could have stood up to him.”
“Easy for you to say,” she snapped. “You didn’t know what I was dealing with.”
“Of course I did. Come on, Skye. Jed’s only as powerful as you let him be. You could have told him no.”
“He’s my father.”
“Right, but he’s not God. You need to grow a pair where he’s concerned.”
She’d thought she’d wanted to fight with him, but not about this.
“You’re still doing everything he wants,” Mitch continued. “You’re dating T.J. because he told you to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Are you saying you haven’t gone out with the guy and that you won’t be going out with him again?”
There was judgment in his voice-and anger.
“If I’m going out with T.J. it’s because he’s picked up the phone and asked me out. On a date. He doesn’t expect me to just have sex with him in a barn.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I didn’t expect it. I just took what was offered. You can lie to yourself all you want, but the rest of us know the truth. You’re still jumping through daddy’s hoops. When are you going to grow up?”
It was as if he’d slapped her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, glaring at him.
“I know it’s time to get over your mother’s death. That has nothing to do with you. You’re not going to die if Jed gets pissed at you.”
She didn’t know how he knew her deepest fear but the fact that he would be so callous about it made every part of her feel under siege. She would give anything to have the shotgun back in her hands and this time she would happily use it.
“Let’s talk about people in glass houses. You’re not going to die because you lost a leg,” she told him. “But you’re sure bent on punishing everyone for what happened. Maybe you should adjust your own attitude before taking on mine.”
“You really want to compare our situations?” he taunted. “Your biggest problem is which pair of three- hundred-dollar shoes to wear to work.”
She told herself that a lot of this was frustration because of what had happened nine years ago and maybe because she had admitted she was dating T.J. Although that last one might just be wishful thinking on her part. But
