“Do you mind if we check the dog’s paw first? I want to see why he’s limping.”
“All right.” Still angry at his loss of control, he rose to his feet and waited.
“Come here, sweetie,” she called, tugging on the leash. “Come on.” She climbed off the rock and stooped down. Her soft, sultry voice quickened his pulse and he swore silently. Why couldn’t he ignore this woman when he knew she’d only cause pain?
The dog limped over, his tail slowly wagging. Still cooing, Jordan scratched his chin and scooted closer. Within seconds, she had him in her arms. “Okay, you silly dog. Let’s see what’s wrong with that paw.”
Her eyes met his and her face turned pink, as if she were thinking about that near-kiss.
Reluctant to get near her, he dragged himself closer and dropped to one knee. They both leaned over the dog’s paw, their heads nearly touching, and he inched himself back.
“I’m guessing he has a thorn stuck in it,” she said and her blush deepened. “See if you can find it while I hold him still.”
Forcing his attention to the dog, Cade reached out and clasped his paw. The dog instantly tried to jerk back. “Easy.” He gently massaged the ragged pad until he felt something sharp in the flesh. “I found it.” He pinched the thorn with his fingers and pulled it out. “Damn. No wonder he was limping.” He held it up for her to see.
“Make sure there’s not another one.”
He tossed aside the thorn, then felt the rest of his paw. “I think that’s it.”
“Great.” She kissed the dog’s head and let him go. He scrambled away, and her gaze rose to his. “He must have run through brambles.”
The concern in her soft eyes swamped him, and his head grew suddenly light. And that confused him. What was it about this woman that affected him so much? Why couldn’t he keep her at a distance?
He forced himself to his feet. Needing to get away, to put some space between them, he strode to his gear and picked up his hard hat.
She rose more slowly. “So what do you think about Dusty?” She brushed the dirt off her jeans. “For the dog, I mean. I’ve been trying to think of a name.”
Still annoyed with himself, but grateful for the change of subject, he shoved on his hard hat and lifted his bag. “I guess it suits him.” Even after crossing the river, the mutt needed a bath.
“I think so, too. Come on, Dusty,” she told the dog. “Let’s get you a drink.” She pulled the bowl from her bag and poured in water. While the dog drank, she stuck their trash in a plastic bag.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes.” She put away the empty bowl, tied the trash to the strap on her bag and joined him on the path. “What kind of dogs did you have on your ranch?”
“Border collies, mostly. They helped herd the cattle.”
“I could never have a dog when I was young. We moved too much.” She hiked beside him up the rocky trail, her long legs keeping stride with his. “Plus, my dad was always gone on ships, and my mother couldn’t be bothered. She was involved with the wives’ club, and a dog didn’t fit her lifestyle.” She paused. “Actually, neither did a kid.”
The resentment in her voice surprised him. He’d always assumed she’d had a great childhood.
But now that he thought about it, she’d never discussed her past, at least not in any detail. Whenever he’d asked, she’d skirted his questions. And he’d never pursued it past that.
Troubled by that thought, he frowned. “How did you learn about dogs if you never had one?”
She glanced at the dog. No longer limping, he trotted easily beside her. “When I moved back East, I got involved in dog rescue. It helped me…cope.”
Cope? With what? Her guilt at deserting her husband? Bitterness soured his gut. “So you’re what, a dog trainer now?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I still help out with rescue, but I work in a nursing home now. In fact, dogs are how I got my job.”
She stopped and pulled a pebble from her shoe. He waited for her to catch up. “I had the sweetest golden retriever for a while,” she said as they resumed hiking. “A trained therapy dog. Her owner had to give her up. So I took her to a nursing home to visit patients and got hooked.”
“Hooked on what?”
“The people.” She sounded surprised.
“Seems like they’d be depressing.”
“Not at all. I mean, when someone…passes on…it’s really hard. But they’re wonderful. They have the most amazing attitude. They know that they’re going to…that they won’t be around very long. And some are in a lot of pain. But instead of complaining or focusing on what they don’t have, they’re so cheerful and optimistic. They just enjoy every moment they have.”
She frowned suddenly and nibbled her bottom lip. A second later, she slanted him a glance. He was surprised to see guilt in her eyes.
But then she cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, they’re always happy to see me.” Her voice dropped. “I guess I like feeling needed.”
Needed? He stopped, feeling as if she’d kicked the air from his gut. “Since when?”
“Since when, what?” Her eyes searched his. “What do you mean?”
“You know damned well what I mean.” He’d needed her, more than he’d needed to breathe. And she’d still bolted away. He turned and strode up the path.
“Cade, wait.”
“For what? Another lie?”
“Cade, please. Let me explain.”
His jaw rigid, he jerked around. “Explain what? Why you didn’t give a damn about my feelings? Why you ran out of town?” He stepped forward and his gaze pinned hers. “Why your husband’s needs didn’t count?”
“But you…You didn’t…” Her skin paled. “Cade, I…”
He waited, willing her to continue, to explain why she’d run away. But she only twisted her hands and looked distraught.
“Hell.” Disgusted, he strode off. His gut churning, his pulse thundering through his skull, he struggled to control his anger. What did it matter? Their marriage was over. So why did he even care? Why did her betrayal eat at him, even after all these years?
Because he still didn’t understand it. His heart pumping, he picked up his pace. Whenever he looked at her, whenever she talked, she seemed genuine. Sincere. As if she really cared about him. Hell, she even acted like that toward the dog.
And he fell for it, every damned time.
Was it just an act? Was she really that callous, that hard? And if so, why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he get her out of his blood?
And if it wasn’t a lie, if she really had cared about him, then why had she left? And why wouldn’t she tell him now?
“McKenzie, this is dispatch,” a voice on his radio called.
He pulled out his radio and sucked in his breath. No, he didn’t understand it. But he did know one thing for damned sure. Before they reached Missoula, he was going to demand some answers.
Chapter 7
Jordan hurried up the rocky trail behind Cade, clutching the makeshift leash. A sick feeling swirled through her belly. She’d seen Cade in a lot of moods during their marriage, but never this fiercely bitter, and he had a cynical edge to his eyes that had never been there before.
Because she’d put it there when she left.
Fierce guilt cramped her chest. Of course he was angry. What had she expected? That he wouldn’t care that she’d left him? That he’d shrug the divorce off?
Ahead of her, Cade said something into his radio, then shoved it into his bag. Then he stopped and looked
