His Texas Bride Page 9

  Pride.

  Tyler, Buck suddenly realized, was growing into a man Buck could be proud of.

  Was proud of.

  He wished he knew how to tell Tyler that, but Buck knew he’d never come up with the words, so he just smiled back at his son and hoped that was enough.

  Tyler pulled the horse up as instructed, sliding his fist up the reins to regain his firm hold of Pal’s head.

  “Okay, little lady, are you ready for a ride?” Buck asked Morgan, who was once again pulling against the straps of her safety riding helmet and only half paying attention as Buck dismounted Pal and crouched before her.

  “Is that strap too tight under Morgan’s chin?” he asked, directing his question to both women simultaneously even as he reached to check the helmet for himself.

  “No,” Marty answered directly. “Morgan doesn’t like anything covering her head. It’s just one of those things we have to deal with. She’s especially sensitive around her face. I’m not letting her ride without a safety helmet, though.”

  “Of course not,” Buck and Ellie said at the same time and then glanced at each other in surprise. Once upon a time they had often done just that—said the same thing at the same time. Finished each other’s sentences.

  Buck cringed inwardly. Back in the day. It took Buck by surprise that so many things between him and Ellie were still the same even after all those years apart, and his heart lurched uncomfortably in his chest.

  “Bad hat,” Morgan said with a petulant frown, which Buck found endearing.

  “Come on over here, cowgirl,” Buck instructed, inspiration hitting him like a lightning bolt. “Let’s go take another look at the horsey.”

  Hand in hand with Buck, Morgan approached the side of the horse, looking up at Buck as often as she did the horse.

  Ellie held back a grin, but she was smiling inside. When Buck and Tyler had first started sharing the ranch with her, she had been surprised to discover that Tyler, whom she’d first classified as shy, was so good with children. Now she was seeing firsthand where the gift came from.

  Strong and silent—like father, like son. And Buck’s gift with children…Well, that was obvious, too. God had had His hand in this even before Ellie had recognized it.

  She wondered if Buck realized the magnitude of this moment, of what he was accomplishing out here today. Not only was he pitching in, but he was actually working out Morgan’s therapy—better, Ellie acknowledged to herself, though she would never admit as much to Buck, than she could have done.

  “It’s important for you to wear a helmet,” Buck said, his voice low and soft. He swiped a glance at Ellie. “You have a man-size helmet around here someplace?” he asked in a whisper.

  Ellie’s gaze widened and she was certain her jaw dropped.

  Buck Redmond in a helmet? A man who’d been riding horses practically since before he was walking?

  Cowboys didn’t wear helmets, though most English riders did.

  But as fast as those thoughts flashed through her mind, Ellie saw where Buck was going with it, and a new sense of appreciation and gratitude washed over her so strongly, it brought tears to the corners of her eyes, which, naturally, she fought to hold back. It wouldn’t do to have Buck see how much his thoughtfulness affected her.

  Ellie dashed to the stable and came back with an adult-size helmet in one hand. Buck swept his cowboy hat off his head and dangled it from the saddle horn as he put the helmet on his head and adjusted the straps under his chin with a no-nonsense movement that surprised Ellie.

  “See, Morgan, you’re just the same as Cowboy Buck,” Marty told the little girl, excitement and bewilderment fighting for prominence in her tone.

  Cowboy Buck.

  Now Ellie really wanted to laugh.

  She pinched her lips together, but when she looked up at Buck, he was staring straight at her. She tried her best to keep a straight face but just couldn’t do it, and in the end a chuckle escaped despite her best efforts to keep it inside.

  Buck scowled, but she could see from the twinkle in his eyes he didn’t really mean it. Despite his gruff exterior, he was laughing with her.

  “There’s one more thing,” Buck said, lifting his cowboy hat by the crown. “A real cowgirl needs a hat.”

  With that, he placed his own black Stetson on Morgan’s head. Because of the helmet Morgan already wore, the cowboy hat actually fit rather well, Ellie thought, and it certainly made the little girl grin from ear to ear.

  “Is it okay if Tyler lifts you up here in front of me?” Buck asked Morgan as he swung into the saddle. “That way we can ride the horsey together, and I can hold on to you real tight so you don’t fall off.”

  “Yes, please, Cowboy Buck,” Morgan said with the pure delight of a child.

  As Tyler wrapped his hands around Morgan’s waist and effortlessly lifted her into the saddle, in front of Buck, Ellie’s chest swelled up with so many emotions, she couldn’t even begin to sort them out. And when Buck spoke directly to Morgan, encouraging her to relax and have fun with the horsey, Ellie flat out wanted to kiss him.

  Well, maybe not kiss him. That was pushing the envelope further than she wanted to even think about.

  But even in the short time she’d known the Miller family from the local church, Ellie had seen how many people talked about Morgan and not to her, as if she weren’t standing right there. Many people were afraid of children with disabilities like Morgan’s, and that fear caused them to talk over her or ignore her completely, averting their eyes from her as if it was polite not to look at all. Or as if what Morgan had was contagious.

  But not Buck. Since the moment he’d shown up on the scene, he had looked the child straight in the face with a smile that didn’t falter a bit. If he was uncomfortable with Morgan, he sure wasn’t showing it.

  Neither was Tyler, for that matter. Ellie’s heart nearly burst. She was proud of both her men.

  Whoa. Not her men.

  Ellie was slipping fast, and she knew it. She mentally scrambled to higher ground as Tyler slid the reins over the horse’s neck and Buck took control, urging Pal into a slow walk.

  Morgan gripped the saddle horn with both hands and squealed with delight, but Buck had firm control over Pal and the horse didn’t so much as sidestep. “Look there, Morgan. You’re riding Pal. You’re a real cowgirl now,” he said, his voice ripe with enthusiasm and encouragement.

  “Nice horsey,” Morgan replied.

  Buck laughed. “Yes. Nice horsey.”

  “Buck is wonderful with Morgan,” Marty commented to Ellie as they watched him walk the horse around the corral with seemingly endless patience at the little girl’s excited outbursts and never-ending questions.

  “Isn’t he, though?” Ellie responded thoughtfully. No one could have been more surprised by this turn of events than she was. She was seeing Buck through new eyes, with perhaps a pinch of nostalgia mixed in with it.

  She’d thought everything had changed since Buck had left town. Now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe the old Buck wasn’t gone forever, as she’d previously supposed. Maybe he was tucked down somewhere behind that rugged cowboy exterior.

  Time and tragic life events had certainly left their marks on Buck; there was no doubt about that. But now Ellie wondered just how much things had really changed.

  Seeing Buck’s smile as he rode around with Morgan pretty much clinched it for Ellie.

  She was in deep water, and she wasn’t sure she knew how to swim.

  Chapter Seven

  Buck stalked toward his closed bedroom door, then did a swift about-face, his black cowboy boots sliding effortlessly on the plush maroon carpet, and stalked in the other direction, toward the window, where the darkening shadows signaled dusk over the Texas plain. He jammed his fingers through his thick hair, spiking it in every which direction, and then shoved his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans as he reached the window, turned abruptly and strode back toward the door.

  He was wearing a proverbi
al trail in the carpet. At this rate he really was going to end up forging a path in the thick shag that Ellie would never be able to vacuum out.

  He felt like a caged tiger, but he wasn’t about to leave this room—his self-imposed cage. Buck knew himself well enough not to subject himself to a readymade torture device, even if he wasn’t all that much more comfortable staying in his room.

  Travis was on the other side of that door, all dressed up for the reunion and waiting for his date.

  Ellie.

  Buck didn’t know why it bothered him so much. He had no claim on Ellie. Travis had been pursuing a relationship with Ellie for years, if what Travis had told him was true. Buck was relatively certain the man hadn’t just been spouting nonsense in order to keep him away from Ellie.

  Certainly Travis felt competitive when it came to Ellie, not that Buck could blame him. Buck felt a little bit territorial himself, even if he had no right to be.

  As if Buck were competition.

  He scoffed audibly. He wasn’t any kind of threat to Travis. If Ellie thought of Buck at all, he was sure it was only as an opponent—a dictator, even. Some awful entity about to drive her from her own home.

  Which he was.

  Only, it was starting to bother him.

  He should have forced his hand right from the beginning, given Ellie two weeks’ notice and taken the ranch for himself. Instead, he was Ellie’s guest in what felt like Ellie’s ranch, and was even participating in what Ellie termed her therapy.

  And he liked it.

  It made him feel good, and Buck couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt truly happy. In helping Morgan, he’d somehow helped himself.

  Buck paused as he heard the sound of voices, Travis’s eager hum and Ellie’s quiet laugh. Buck swallowed hard and clenched his fists against changing his mind and stalking down the hallway and into the living room.

  After what seemed like a lifetime, the front door opened and closed.

  Good.

  They were gone. Buck let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. With effort, he unclenched his fists. The reunion would last for several hours. Buck no longer had to stay cooped up in this room.

  He stood silently for a moment, letting his emotions wash over him, hoping they would recede if he just let them go.

  Anger. Frustration.

  Jealousy.

  Jealousy.

  Who did he think he was kidding, anyway? He shook his head as if in answer to his own unspoken question. He didn’t want Ellie going to the reunion with Travis. Buck didn’t want her anywhere near the man.

  He wanted her with him.

  And he was acting like an immature adolescent, pacing ineffectively around his room instead of taking action. That wasn’t like him.

  The cage was open. The tiger was loose.

  Resolutely, Buck moved to the bedside table and opened the drawer, looking for a pen and paper to write Tyler a note to let him know where he was headed. Tyler was out with some of his new friends, but Buck didn’t want him to worry if for some reason he got home early and found Buck gone.

  And Buck would be gone.

  He glanced down at the drawer and chuckled despite his black mood. The drawer was meticulously organized. He found a thick pad of paper with the therapy ranch logo across the bottom, two blue pens and a Bible.

  Just like a hotel, Buck thought, only the Gideons hadn’t placed this Bible here.

  Ellie had.

  Picking up the soft leather-bound Bible and thumbing distractedly through the pages, Buck wondered if Ellie had placed the Bible there for his sake or if it was something she did in all her guest rooms.

  He remembered a time when he and Ellie kept each other accountable in reading through the Bible every year. Prayed together about their future. It had been years since he’d even cracked the cover of the Holy Scriptures.

  Too long.

  He shook his head and placed the Bible where it had been, scooping up the pad of paper and a pen and scrawling a hasty note to his son, which he planned to leave on the kitchen table on his way out.

  He glanced in the mirror and took a quick inventory of what he was wearing. A black Western shirt and black jeans. Same as he always wore.

  He considered changing his clothes for about one millisecond, then shrugged and combed his fingers through his ruffled hair as he reached for his hat. His clothes were clean, and he looked like he always looked.

  Good enough for the reunion.

  The music, which had moments before been an up-tempo country song, slowed down. Ellie felt more than saw Travis reach for her in the semidarkness of the Ferrell Rangers’ home gym, lit only by stage lights and a sparkling silver glitter ball twirling slowly over their heads.

  “I’m parched,” she said with a quick step backward.

  Travis looked disappointed, but he nodded. “I’ll get us some punch. Be right back, okay?”

  Ellie nodded absently, her mind distracted from Travis’s words. She wasn’t really that thirsty. She just didn’t feel like dancing with Travis right now.

  Which wasn’t fair to him and she knew it. Nor was it fair the way her eyes kept wandering back to the door every time there was some movement there. People walked in and out regularly, friends she’d known her whole life.

  But none of them was Buck.

  And every time it wasn’t him, a new stab of disappointment hit her chest. Buck had stated quite clearly he wouldn’t be coming to his twenty-year reunion, but Ellie held out hope he’d change his mind, though she refused to acknowledge why that mattered to her one way or another.

  “You dance with the guy that brought you,” her father used to say. And that was what Ellie was doing—but for all the wrong reasons. She wondered for the millionth time if she’d made a mistake accepting Travis’s invitation to the reunion.

  Her own reunion was up next year. Maybe she should have waited until then—and attended without a date at all.

  Travis returned to Ellie’s side with two cups of frothy punch. He handed her one, and she sipped absently, not really tasting the tart beverage. She just wanted to call it a night and go home, but the reunion had barely started. She wouldn’t do that to Travis. He was too good of a friend. It wasn’t his fault Buck Redmond had suddenly returned to town.

  She smiled up at him, though her heart wasn’t in it. Travis deserved better than she was giving him, and she rallied herself to try to be a good date. When the music sped up to a lively Texas two-step, Travis set Ellie’s cup down on a nearby table and gestured to the dance floor.

  “I, uh, never really learned to do this dance,” she said, stalling awkwardly. So much for being a good date, she thought, although the part about her not knowing how to do the dance was the honest truth.

  “That’s okay. I’m not a great dancer, either. We’ll just have to wing it. Nobody’s watching us, anyway.” Travis held out his hand to her.

  Ellie shrugged and, against her better judgment, allowed Travis to lead her out toward the middle of the gym. He spun her under his arm as they walked.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?” he asked a little too brightly. Ellie could feel his discomfort and knew she was the cause. She wondered if he could feel her tension, or see it even, written plainly in the expression on her face.

  She had to try harder. Maybe everyone wasn’t watching them, but what if her anxiety was obvious to even the casual onlooker, to her friends and neighbors? She didn’t want to be the topic of gossip any more than she had to be, and she knew Buck being in town and living at her—his—ranch, was already more fodder for the old mill than she would have liked.

  “It’s lovely,” she answered, smiling back at him. That wasn’t a lie, anyway. The planning committee had outdone themselves with the blue-and-silver decor and Ranger memorabilia. “Don’t blame me if I step on your toes, though.”

  “No problem,” he replied with a chuckle. “I just hope I don’t step on yours.”

  Travis had no sooner grabbed her han
d and put his arm around her shoulders than she felt the jarring motion of another man’s hand slapping Travis’s back.

  “Hey, buddy, you don’t mind if I cut in, do you?”

  Buck.

  Dressed head to toe in black, he looked as handsome as she’d ever seen him.

  Didn’t the man have another color in his wardrobe? she thought irritably, trying to keep her mind off the way her spirit had picked up with Buck’s arrival.

  Ellie might not know how to do the two-step, but her heart obviously did, as it thrummed wildly in her chest. She swallowed hard and glanced at Travis, whose expression was likewise registering shock, though she knew his reasons were completely opposite of her own staggering emotions. Travis looked more than a little put out by Buck’s sudden presence, never mind his brash request, but his polite smile quickly returned.

  “Certainly,” Travis said in a voice that didn’t contain even a hint of disappointment, at least that Ellie could tell. He even grinned at her as he spoke to Buck. “She’s all yours.”

  Travis was a genuinely nice man, but Ellie wondered how difficult the words were for him, and she felt a stab of guilt for deserting him this way, not that Buck would have taken no for an answer, as both she and Travis well knew.

  Buck looked like he’d just roped a steer at a rodeo, and anger surged past her surprise. Who did he think he was, showing up so unexpectedly and then unrepentantly butting in on her dance with Travis?

  Never mind that she’d been keenly watching the door for the past hour. Never mind that she hadn’t really wanted to dance with Travis in the first place, since she had two left feet.

  “I don’t know the two-step,” she ground out through clenched teeth. She brushed Buck’s hand away when he made to put his arm around her.

  Buck just threw back his head and laughed before grabbing her hand and dragging her back to the dead center of the floor, where everyone in the room would see them together. “That’s okay, sugar. I’ve learned a few things since we were kids, and one of them is how to dance the Texas two-step.”