Six

Talulah was still shaken by Charlie’s visit when she left Brant in the living room, sweeping up the broken glass, and went upstairs to change. She’d known Coyote Canyon was small enough that she’d probably have to face her ex-fiancé eventually, but she’d never dreamed he’d come to her house, especially at such an inopportune time.

After gathering up her clothes from the bathroom, she carried them into the bedroom and was digging through her suitcase, looking for something to wear, when she heard Brant come up the stairs. She’d closed the door, but he knocked and said, “Talulah? Can I come in?”

She hesitated. He’d already seen all there was to see of her. But that was last night. Today was different—wasn’t it?

“Talulah?” he said when she didn’t answer right away.

“You can come in.” Turning her back to him, she pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the bed where he could grab it, but before she could take hold of her own clothes, he came up behind her, rested his hands gently on her waist and slowly turned her to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and since he was looking into her eyes and not at anything else, she believed him.

“It is what it is.” She was trying to play it off, but he must’ve known she felt crappy inside because he pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Having Charlie show up is definitely not the way I wanted last night to end,” he said.

“It’ll only be a few weeks before I’m gone,” she reminded him, but despite her desire to get dressed after what had just happened, being chest to chest was somehow more comforting without clothes. “Hopefully, he didn’t do too much damage to your truck.”

“I’m almost afraid to go look,” he admitted.

“If you can’t drive it, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Okay.” He surprised her by pressing a kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “Do you want me to bring that portable air conditioner up here, or are you going to be working elsewhere today?”

“You could put it in the basement for me. I’m going to try to make some progress down there. I’ll wait until this damn heat wave is over before tackling the bedrooms or even the main floor.”

“I was thinking it might make you more comfortable when you sleep tonight.”

She selected a red summer dress from her suitcase and shimmied into it. “I’d rather it helped me through the hottest part of the day.”

“You got it.”

While he put on his shirt, her phone went off and she took it from the charger.

When she immediately set it back down, he glanced over. “You’re not going to answer?”

“Not right now.”

“Why not?”

When she pretended to be too preoccupied digging around in her suitcase to reply, he said, “Was it Paul?”

She was shocked he could remember Paul’s name. She’d only mentioned it once. “Yeah. I’ll call him later.”

He pulled on his socks and picked up his boots while she slipped on a pair of panties under her dress. “Will you tell him about last night?” he asked.

She felt less self-conscious now that she was dressed and somehow emotionally safer, too. Brant didn’t act as if nudity was any big deal. But in the light of day, sleeping with him didn’t seem like the best decision she’d ever made. Given their background, she almost couldn’t believe it’d happened. She certainly hadn’t seen it coming. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“Because it’ll make him angry?”

“Because it’ll make him jealous.” And it would be an awkward conversation, one that would most likely start a fight. She didn’t need that right now, not when they still had several weeks apart and she was relying on Paul to take care of the diner.

He yanked on his boots. “Is he...possessive?” Brant asked.

“Not really. Or...maybe a little.” Remembering her last conversation with Paul, after she’d finally slept with him, she amended her answer yet again. “Actually, yeah, I guess he is. He’s been pushing harder and harder for us to be exclusive.”

“Do you plan to move in that direction?”

“Eventually. If I can. We have a lot in common. And he claims he loves me.”

Fully dressed, he sat back as he looked at her. “How do you feel?”

“He’s a good guy,” she said to avoid answering that question more directly. “A girl could do a lot worse.”

Brant gave her a funny look. “That’s your answer? A girl could do a lot worse? I’d be destroyed if the woman I loved was that dispassionate about me.”

She threw up her hands. “I don’t know how I feel, Brant. That’s the problem with me. That’s how I’ve made so many mistakes in the past.”

He stood and faced her, but, fortunately, changed the subject. “When’s your great aunt’s funeral?”

“I won’t know for sure until I talk to the lady from the church. But since my parents are in Africa and my sister can’t come, it’s just me, so I can be flexible. I’ll do it whenever the building’s available, although I’d rather it not conflict with the birth of my new niece. I plan on driving to Billings to be there when Debbie goes into labor.”

If he remembered Debbie, he didn’t say. Like so many other girls, Debbie had noticed every move he’d made, but it seemed that, for him, she’d always been part of the background. “Doesn’t your aunt have any other family?”

“None. She never married, never had any kids.”

He walked over to where she’d left her phone and flashed it at her face to get past the identity lock.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“Making sure you have my number, in case you need anything while you’re here.”

She watched as he called himself so he’d have her number, too. “There won’t be any reason for me to bother you—unless I can’t get the AC unit you brought into my car when it’s time to return it.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll pick it up. Just let me know when you’re done with it.”

“Okay. Thanks for...for bringing it over. I’m sorry about your head and...all the rest of it.”

He propped his hands on his hips as he studied her. She wished she could tell what he was thinking, but his expression didn’t give anything away. After a few seconds, he sighed and said, “I guess I’d better go take a look at my truck.”

She found a pair of sandals and slipped them on before heading down herself.

Although he’d swept up the glass, he pointed at the floor. “Be careful. You need a vacuum here. I’m not a hundred percent sure I got everything.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she said. Then he carried the air conditioner to the basement, plugged it in and showed her how to run it before they went outside.

She followed as he strode immediately to the front of his truck. “What do you think?” she asked.

He crouched to examine the damage. “It’s not nearly as bad as I expected from the sound of the crash.”

Charlie had made a sizable dent in the bumper, but it didn’t look as though the engine had been affected. “Is this truck brand-new?”

“Yeah. I only bought it a few months ago.”

“That makes this even worse.”

“It’s a work truck. I would’ve beat it up eventually,” he said, but she didn’t find that entirely convincing. If she had her guess, he was more upset than he was showing.

He left the door open as he got in and started the engine. “Sounds fine,” he said when it fired right up.

“Good.” She stepped back so he could close the door, but he didn’t. He squinted against the sun as he looked at her the same way he’d looked at her when they were inside a few minutes earlier—speculatively, as though a lot more was going through his mind than she could read on his face.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s hard to regret last night,” he replied. “I enjoyed every second of it—well, the part that came after I hit my head.”

“Fear of commitment doesn’t necessarily make me bad in bed,” she joked.

His gaze lowered over her as though he was savoring the memory. “You’re a long way from bad in bed.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “I could say the same about you.”

He grinned at her. Then he nodded goodbye and closed his door, and she stood in the driveway, watching as he drove off.

“Holy shit,” she muttered as she started toward the house. He’d said he was having a hard time regretting what they’d done, and truth be told, so was she.

But how would last night affect the rest of her stay in Coyote Canyon?

Brant didn’t know whether he should try to call Charlie or not. He felt bad about what’d happened, had certainly never intended to hurt his best friend. It’d been so long since the wedding, he hadn’t thought of Charlie as having any claim on Talulah. Maybe how Charlie would react should’ve been more obvious to him. He would’ve expected it if she was planning to move back to town or there was even a remote chance of a reconciliation between them. But she didn’t regret leaving Charlie behind. Spending one night with her, when neither of them was committed to someone else, simply hadn’t seemed like that big a deal.

Until Charlie found out, of course. Now it seemed like a really big deal—so big Brant couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself into such a mess. He’d always been careful when it came to women, especially the women in Coyote Canyon. The ranch was his livelihood, his future; he couldn’t imagine he’d ever leave the small town he called home. That made it imperative he protect the relationships he had here, so it was pretty ironic that his first major scandal would involve Charlie.

After he pulled into his own drive, he found his phone, which was right where he’d left it yesterday, charging in his truck, and scrolled through his missed calls and messages. There were a few from his brothers, wondering where he was. But the majority had come from Charlie.

That was how Charlie’s first few texts had gone. Then there’d been a lull for several hours—during which Brant imagined him growing bored and more and more curious and obsessed with Talulah. Once it was late enough that he felt he could safely drive past her aunt’s place without being noticed, the tone of his messages had drastically changed.

That had come in at 2:00 a.m.

4:30 a.m.

6:00 a.m.

He must’ve sat in front of her house all night, waiting to ambush Brant as soon as he came out.

In addition to those texts, Charlie had left several profanity-filled voice mails, telling Brant what a lousy friend he was.

With a sigh, he got out and slid his phone in his pocket. He wasn’t going to call Charlie. Charlie wouldn’t listen to him right now, anyway.

“There you are!” His youngest brother, Kurt, who was twenty-five, had spotted him from the closest paddock and nudged Fancy, one of their best horses, into a gallop to reach him. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked, bringing the horse to a stop a few feet away. “I thought you were going to move the cattle this morning.”

Brant didn’t want to talk about what’d happened. But he had committed to moving the cattle, which his brother had obviously just done for him. And with all the drama involving Charlie, he knew his brothers would hear about Talulah sooner or later. Everyone would. It would be better—for Charlie—if he did what Talulah had asked him to. Otherwise, what she said later wouldn’t ring true. But it was going to be difficult to navigate the next few days without resorting to outright lies. “Talulah Barclay’s great aunt’s house.”

Kurt took off his baseball cap and beat the dust off it while his horse threw its head, trying to force enough slack in the reins to nibble at a dandelion coming up through the gravel. “I heard she was back in town. Everyone’s talking about it. But...what were you doing with her?”

“Ellen texted to ask if Talulah could borrow the portable air conditioner we’ve been storing in the bunkhouse, so I drove it over.”

“And that took all night?”

Brant indicated the gouge on his forehead. “I hit my head hard enough to get a concussion while I was there,” he replied. “I couldn’t exactly drive.”

“Why didn’t you call one of us? We would’ve come to get you.”

“Talulah had a doctor check me out. He felt it was better if I just rested there until morning.”

“Oh.” His brother gave him the once-over. “So...are you okay?”

“I am now.” Physically, anyway. Inside, he felt like shit—had no idea how he’d repair his relationship with Charlie.

Lines of consternation appeared on Kurt’s forehead as he put his hat back on. “What was it you ran into? Because it looks like you hit your face, too.”

“I smacked into the ceiling of the basement. The damn thing was too low. Charlie did the rest.”

Kurt forced his horse’s head back up, which made Fancy prance around. “Did you say Charlie? Was it an accident?”

“It was intentional. But I don’t want to make a big deal of it.” Eager to get into the house, if only to avoid more questions, Brant tried to go around the horse and his brother, but Kurt urged Fancy forward, cutting him off.

“Dude, how is it not a big deal that your best friend punched you in the face?”

“I dodged the brunt of it,” he replied. “Didn’t even hurt.”

“What made him mad in the first place?”

“Finding my truck at Talulah’s.”

“You didn’t tell him about the concussion?”

“Didn’t have the chance.”

“He wouldn’t even let you explain? What an asshole!”

Brant hated playing the innocent. Kurt was only making the guilt he felt worse. He didn’t want his brothers rising to his defense when he really had done what Charlie was upset about. But he kept going back to that conversation with Talulah and telling himself that handling the situation as she’d requested would hurt Charlie less, even though it made him feel like the biggest jerk on earth. “He’s not an asshole. I can see why he’d be mad.”

“Why? You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Kurt. Will you get out of my way?”

His little brother’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You did sleep with her.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“But that’s why Charlie’s mad, isn’t it? Has he even spoken to her since she left?” He leaned on the horn of his saddle, rubbing his beard growth with one gloved hand. “Jeez, I was, what...ten or eleven when that whole thing went down. He still cares that much after so long?”

“Obviously.” He gestured at the damage to his truck. “He backed into the front of my truck on purpose, too.”

Kurt’s jaw dropped. “Oh, man, I’d kick his ass.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“I don’t care who he is. That right there would be the line.”

“I’m not going to kick his ass. Will you move?” he asked again.

“One more sec,” his brother said. “Are you and Talulah together now?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “She’s only in town for her great aunt’s funeral.”

“So...you and Charlie will be able to get beyond this?”

“I hope so,” he said as Kurt finally allowed him to circumvent Fancy. But there was no way to be sure. He’d never seen his friend quite that upset, not since the wedding.

He’d been a shortsighted idiot. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d enjoyed every second of it.

Talulah sat on the floor of the basement, hugging her knees to her chest in front of the portable air conditioner. She was trying to block out the thoughts bombarding her brain by simply listening to the whir of the fan. What had she been thinking? Why had she allowed herself to get involved with Brant? While she and Paul weren’t officially together, she knew he wouldn’t be happy about her sleeping with another man.

And there was Charlie, of course.

Except...she’d never dreamed she could still hurt Charlie.

Lifting the skirt of her dress to capture more of the cool air, she told herself last night was over and there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. The past was the past.

Yet she couldn’t stop dwelling on the ramifications. Charlie had always been close to his mother, and his mother and hers were dear friends. For years they’d served together in various community programs. That was part of the reason her mother had been so mortified when she’d run away instead of taking her wedding vows. Talulah didn’t want Carolyn to know what’d happened with Brant. But she had no doubt Charlie would tell Dinah, who would email if not call her mother.

Here she was in Coyote Canyon, a place she’d sworn she’d never return to, because she was trying to help her family. She’d thought that maybe, finally, she’d get to be the hero for a change.

Instead, she’d embarrassed her parents again—and on almost her very first night. To make everything worse, Charlie would tell his sister, too, and Averil would be glad she’d cut off all contact with Talulah.

“I do not know what I was thinking,” she mumbled.

Her phone buzzed more loudly than usual because she’d left it on a cardboard box. Paul was calling back. He’d tried three times so far. She had to pick up eventually, and the longer she waited, the odder it would seem that she hadn’t checked in with him.

Drawing a deep breath, she tried to put some energy into her voice as she answered. “Hello?”

“There you are! Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Sorry about that. I don’t always keep my phone with me while I work.”

“No problem. I was just...missing you.”

“I miss you, too,” she said, feeling guiltier than ever. “How’s the diner?”

“Everything’s going great. We were absolutely slammed last night. We should consider opening another location.”

He’d mentioned that before, many times. He could be so insistent. “I’m not ready for that,” she said.

“It won’t be as hard to get up and running as this place was.”

“I think we need to pay off our debts and get in a stronger financial position before we take on more risk.”

“By then we could lose first-mover advantage.”

She couldn’t think about those kinds of business decisions right now. “We can look into it when I’m back, if you want. Provided we find the perfect location, and it’s in a spot we can afford...maybe,” she said, putting him off for the time being just to avoid an argument.

“Okay. At least you’re open to it. Have you run into Charlie yet?”

“Charlie?” she repeated as if she didn’t recognize the name.

“Yeah. The guy you almost married. He’s the reason you didn’t want to go back to Coyote Canyon, isn’t he?”

She’d been completely transparent about her history and her difficulty with commitment, so at least he’d been warned. She’d also rebuffed every advance he’d made—refused to even let him take her out—until the past year. “Oh, yeah. I just...” She squeezed her eyes closed as the memory of Charlie calling her a whore only a few hours ago echoed through her mind. “I don’t think I’ll see him.”

“But it’s such a small town. You said you were almost guaranteed to run into him.”

“I’m hoping that’s not the case.”

“You don’t think he’ll come to the funeral?”

“He was part of my great aunt’s church, so...it’s a possibility. It’ll depend on how well he knew her. A lot of church members will be there.” Including his mother and possibly other members of his large family. Talulah had no doubt of that.

“I wish I could be standing by your side.”

That didn’t ring entirely true. She’d sort of wanted him to come, had mentioned it once or twice, and he’d said it would be better if he stayed to manage the diner. Anyway, if Paul came, he’d probably be the only person by her side, especially now. The fact that Charlie had found Brant at Phoebe’s house—her house at the moment—had pulled the past into the present. “It’s much more important that you look after the diner, like you said before. Thanks for holding up that end of things.”

“Of course. When will the funeral be?”

“Someone from Phoebe’s church is coming over today and we’ll decide.”

“It’s nice the church helps out.”

“It really is. There’re a lot of good people here.”

“No one’s better than you.”

She winced. “Thank you.”

“You know how I feel about you. We’re meant to be together, Talulah Ray,” he said, using her middle name, “and I hope you’ll realize that soon.”

She tensed. When he started pressing her, she often felt overwhelmed and claustrophobic. It wasn’t so much the things he said; it was knowing what he wanted and being unable to give it to him. Why wasn’t he more skittish? After all, he was the one who’d already been through a divorce. “Don’t...don’t put any pressure on me, okay?” she said. “I’m sorry, but...dealing with all of this makes me especially sensitive. I—I can’t offer you a commitment right now.”

“I understand. You do what you have to do and know that I’m eager to see you when you get home.”

Slightly surprised and relieved that he’d backed off so easily—that wasn’t always the case—she felt some of her anxiety fade away. “Thanks.”

She asked if he’d finalized the travel plans for his trip and listened as he went over his itinerary. Then they talked about his mother, who’d had a knee replacement two weeks ago.

“The pain is easing,” he assured her just as someone banged on the door upstairs.

She checked the time on her phone. It was her understanding that church didn’t let out until two. So...who was this?

Afraid it might be Charlie, or even Averil or Dinah, coming to vent their long-simmering resentment, she told Paul that she had to go. But by the time she’d hurried upstairs, moved the vacuum she’d used to finish cleaning up the shards of glass in the entry and answered the door, there was no one there—just a beautiful bouquet of pink, white and orange peonies with small bits of greenery.

Although it didn’t look like the typical funeral arrangement, she assumed that someone had sent it after hearing the news of her great aunt’s passing—until she saw a new toothbrush sticking out among the flowers.

Then she knew it had to be from Brant.

Taking the card from its small envelope, she read, “I forgot to tell you I loved your croissants and you might find one in the microwave I never got to eat. Thanks for letting me use your toothbrush.”

She put the flowers on the coffee table and sank into a nearby chair, staring at the arrangement for several minutes before navigating to the number he’d typed into her phone this morning and texting him a response.

Life was so unpredictable. Brant Elway was the last man she’d ever thought she’d sleep with. He was also the last man she’d ever thought she’d like.

Yet...she’d wanted to sleep with him. She’d enjoyed sleeping with him. And she definitely liked him.