Raney dug them out of the pile and tossed them across the bed. “I’m not pushing Dalton away.” She almost added that she’d let him kiss her. Repeatedly. But decided against it. Mama didn’t need more ammo.
Yet, what if her mother was right? What if she was pushing Dalton away, rather than the other way around? More likely, he was so focused on making a name for himself through Rosco, he didn’t have time for anything else.
And why shouldn’t he? It was his future at stake as much as her hopes for a successful cutting horse program. He deserved to be successful. Even Alejandro admitted the colt responded better to Dalton than he did to anyone else. And when Raney had called Press Amala about the mare, the old man couldn’t say enough about Dalton’s gift with horses.
“Maybe not this year,” Press had said, “but soon Rosco and Dalton will be top tier on the cutting circuit. Just stay out of their way. The boy and that colt have an understanding and you don’t want to mess with it.” With a recommendation like that, what could she do but turn over the prize colt she had raised to an unproven trainer who was also an ex-con?
Actually, Raney was proud of both of them. She was excited about Rosco’s progress. And despite all the marks against him, Dalton’s hard work and easygoing manner had earned the friendship and respect of the other workers. Mama and Joss already treated him like family and Maria always had a plate of his favorite cookies on hand. He never asked, but people happily gave. She didn’t begrudge him all the positive attention he was getting. He’d earned it.
Yet, for the first time since she’d taken over management of Four Star, she felt a little left out. Or better said . . . left behind. She wasn’t usually on the sidelines, observing. She liked being in the thick of things, making sure everything moved smoothly. As ranch manager, that was her job. A workhorse, like Joss said.
But of late, she’d begun to feel irrelevant. She didn’t feel like she fit anymore.
She still managed Four Star, of course. But it could be stressful, keeping a grip on all the threads that held the ranch together, while at the same time, balancing the needs of the workers, the expectations of her family, and the edicts of the moneymen and accountants who oversaw the family trust. She loved taking care of the ranch. But horses were her passion. And ever since Dalton came, she’d had to sit back and watch someone else do what she had always done. And do it better.
No wonder she was a little discouraged.
Mama sat on the end of the bed and patted a cleared space beside her. “Sit down and talk to me, Raney. I hate to leave when you’re so troubled.”
Reluctantly, she sat. “I’m not troubled. I’m just tired.” She hesitated, then added, “Bertie got married. Ran off to Las Vegas with her veterinarian.”
“Without you?”
“No big deal. They’re moving to Oklahoma.”
“That’s too bad.” Her mother reached over and took Raney’s hand. “But are you sure that’s what has you upset? I know you’re not sleeping well. No, don’t deny it. I’m your mother. I can tell when my girls are fretting. What’s wrong?”
Raney shrugged, not wanting to put all her petty resentments and doubts into words. She felt ridiculous even having them. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, not some whiny teenager.
“I know Dalton cares for you, Raney,” her mother went on. “And I think you might have feelings for him, too. What’s holding you back? Is it the accident?”
“Maybe. A little. Not as much as before.” Yet it was still there, a shadow in the shadows. Accident or not, Dalton had taken a life and gone to prison for it. A life-changing thing. Yet he seemed to have blocked it from his mind as easily as if it were a minor mishap.
Like he was blocking her now? God, she was pathetic.
“It may not be all it seems,” her mother said.
Raney frowned. “The wreck? What do you mean?”
Mama looked away. “Nothing. Just wishful thinking, I guess.”
They talked a few more minutes about ranch stuff and how Raney should bully the trust accountants into giving raises to the workers, then with a final pat, Mama let go of Raney’s hand and rose. “We can talk while we finish up here. UPS is picking up the suitcase for the outfitters this afternoon.”
* * *
Dalton wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. All he knew for certain was that something was pushing Raney away from him. The fight at the Roadhouse? Because he’d told her he loved her? Because the sun was shining?
He didn’t understand women at all. But unwilling to give up, he cornered Joss the afternoon before Mrs. Whitcomb was to leave on her trip and asked her if Raney was mad at him.
“About what?” Joss asked.
Dalton struggled to hide his impatience. “If I knew, would I be asking?”
Apparently he hadn’t hidden it well enough. “Don’t get pissy with me, Mr. Fancy Pants,” Joss snapped. “I’m pregnant.”
“Right. I forgot.” Which earned him another glare before she stomped off. Now he had two sisters mad at him. Which left him no choice but to go all in.
“Mrs. Whitcomb,” he said, after dinner that night. The sisters were carrying empty plates back into the kitchen and only Raney’s mother remained on the veranda. “Can I talk to you?”
“Certainly.” She studied him with a knowing smile. “About Raney?”
The woman must be psychic. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Will it keep another day?”
With reluctance, Dalton nodded.
“Then drive me to the Lubbock airport tomorrow.”
Lubbock? He had hoped for a quick answer, not a two-hundred-mile round-trip. “Isn’t there a shuttle from Gunther to Lubbock?”
“It leaves midafternoon. My flight to Seattle leaves in the morning.”
“Raney’s not driving you?”
“I’ll tell her you’re stopping in Plainview on the way back to visit your folks.”
On the way back? Plainview was fifty miles in a different direction. “Amala’s bringing the mare
