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Molly’s head drooped and leaned on his shoulder as he drove the truck to their home. Ryder’s heart swelled with love for his little girl.
But she talked in her sleep. “And Santa will listen... and Daddy... smile... and Cassidy sing... again...”
His passenger sucked in a sharp breath. He might not be able to see Cassidy, but he knew a riot of emotions rumbled through her. It pulsed in the air.
“She means well.” He had to patch this one up.
“Know that. Your little darling wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Why did it sound like she was fighting tears again? A ten-pound stone sank in his gut. “But I would?”
“Didn’t say that.” Her short, curt answer said more than enough.
“You think I’m returning the favor?” He tried to hold back the muffled, strained laugh.
“Never meant to.”
“One way to look at it.” How could this—what he’d kept buried for years—tear in his chest like a fresh, raw wound? She’d crashed into his nice, normal existence, well, the one he was fighting for, and turned him inside out.
Would that girl ever stop? And would he ever listen to reason about Cassidy?
Hefting the booster seat, Cassidy followed Ryder, carrying a sleeping Molly, up the outside stairs of the weathered house and stepped onto the patchwork porch—mismatched planks of wood of various ages—sitting beneath her boots.
He thrust open the door and flicked on the light switch. “Just set it down on the chair there.”
Cassidy placed it gently on the worn leather armchair beside an end table with a stack of blueprints rolled up on it. Those must be for the framework for the new house she’d glimpsed in the starlight on the way in. She’d never been in his home before. It screamed masculine. Sparse was too kind a word. Not a knickknack to be found in any tucked away corner or a flowery touch anywhere in sight.
Rugged. Hard.
Like the man facing her in the middle of his living room.
A tender spot pinged for his little girl. Where were the soft places for her to play or see or fall?
Had he gotten rid of everything after his wife passed? Or had she ever lived here at all?
Seemed strange to consider Ryder had ever been married at all as she looked at him now. He wore ornery like a second skin at times.
“I’ve got it from here.” His gaze met hers, unflinching and tough.
“Prickly, aren’t you?” She took in Molly, snuggled into her daddy’s shoulder and sucking her thumb. Another ping—hard and sharper this time—bumped against her ribs.
“With you? Of course. Now—”
She held up her hands, stopping him flat in his tracks. “Let’s get this little cowgirl princess settled in and then I’ll be on my way.” Cassidy swallowed through the lump clogging her throat, but didn’t look away from his muleheaded green glare.
His heavy sigh whistled through the air. Ryder tilted his head. “Down the hall. First down on the left.”
“Well, if the mountain didn’t budge...”
“Cass.” The warning rumbled in his chest.
She shivered, recalling his stubborn side and going toe-to-toe with him many a time. The outcome had pleased them both. Mighty fine kisser that man was. “Haven’t changed a bit, Ryder Hadley.”
“Then you know you’re wearing a hole through my last nerve.”
Her laugh came out quick and unexpected, surprising herself at the unusual husky sound. It had been ages since she had anything to chuckle at, never mind use that part of her voice yet.
A welcome discovery. I still have something I can work with here. A glimmer of hope emerged.
Cassidy led the way in the dark hallway, snuck a peek in the room, and then snapped on the light. The soft glow from the lamp on Molly’s bedside table revealed just where Ryder poured in everything he had.
The pink and white room stunned Cassidy. It was a little girl’s heaven with the matching princess bedspread and sham and accessories on the white framed twin bed. Dolls were lined up neatly along a shelve, the white toy chest—decorated with glitter and sparkly gems—sat beneath, and there stood a mini white bookshelf stuffed with children’s books with a child-size pink armchair nearby.
“Well, who’d have thought...” She trailed off as she turned slowly to view the small room and face Ryder. Cassidy raised an eyebrow.
“Poking fun at me?”
“Maybe. Whole new side to you, cowboy.”
“Just help me with the wings, will you?” The tops of his cheeks were smudged with slashes of red.
She melted at the tender yet tough man she’d once fallen for. “The tiara first.”
He stood, tense and stone-like, enduring the slow, meticulous way Cassidy removed the crown and gently laid it on the side table, along with the wand she’d rescued from the cab of the truck and away from Bandit a few minutes earlier. She pulled back the covers to reveal pale pink sheets.
“Now, the wings.” She eyed his grasp and cool stare directed at her. “I’m on your side here, remember? You’ll have to cooperate some.”
Ryder closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head.
“You look like you’re bracing yourself for torture.” She giggled.
It came out garbled and scratchy. Heat crawled up her cheeks. No one had heard her like that; she’d kept that sound and more like it to herself over the last few months. Will I ever be whole again? Biting her bottom lip, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
Gone was the steely look. In its place resided a well of empathy that nearly choked her. He sensed her pain and embarrassment.
Did her insides just tumble at his unexpected compassion for her?
She wasn’t the same girl he’d known—not the fierce, determined up-and-coming country music sensation he’d fallen head over heels in love with anymore.
How the mighty have fallen! She’d read that glaring headline recently in a tabloid magazine checking out at the grocery store with one of the worst pictures ever taken of her with no makeup, her unwashed hair in a makeshift bun, and her clothes smudged with dirt. They’d never mentioned the fact she’d just come back from riding a horse.
Swallowing hard, Cassidy forced a tight smile. “About those wings.” It took a few attempts and some intense moments of being entirely too close to Ryder and the heat of his tall, rugged body as he shifted his little girl and angled both of them just so as Cassidy slipped first one and then the other band off Molly’s shoulders.
“Toy chest.” He nodded to the decorated box and then moved to the bed. Gently, he placed Molly down, removing her cowgirl boots. He tucked her in and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
The little girl sighed and turned over, settling on her tummy and immediately sticking her thumb in her mouth again.
Ryder eased her hand away, stepping back. “We’re still working on that one.”
The edge of worry lingered in his words.
Cassidy touched his warm arm—heat sweeping up and through her. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. She let go, clasping her hands together to stop the fiery imprint.
What just happened? They couldn’t reignite their past, couldn’t fuel any embers from stirring again.
In four weeks, she’d be gone, hopefully healed and ready to jump back into her music career and ready for battle in the ensuing fiasco of the upcoming lawsuit.
So why did an ache a country mile long crack through her chest?
To escape, Cassidy swung around to hightail it out of there. Somehow the door had half closed and she stopped in her tracks.
There taped on the back of the door was a three foot poster of none other than her. Reaching out, she nudged Molly’s door a few inches. It squeaked on its hinges, slowly moving until Cassidy got a full on view.
She gulped hard. The replica from her last album cover stunned her.
“My daughter’s idea.” Ryder’s strangled voice told its own story.
A flashback of that day in the middle of nowhere rushed to her. Lazy, hazy, and stillness. The crew of ten had worked to get everything in place. She had wandered off, searching for silence and found it.
The breathtaking beauty of the red-orange rocks against the picture perfect blue sky sank in her by slow degrees, sweeping away the frenzy and stress of months on the road, working hard, and people jabber jawing in her ear on what they wanted her to do.
Also, came a sudden, unexpected peace she’d unknowingly longed for.
And there began something she’d searched for again ever since. How to have a career and a life she loved. The joy of writing and performing without the agony of losing herself to the overwhelming machine that needed constant feeding strummed in her soul. Finding the balance proved impossible thus far. Nearly two whole years of longing.
Cassidy gazed at the image. Standing in the road with the magnificent desert landscape behind and all around her, she stood with her thumbs hooked into the front pockets of her favorite pair of jeans, a brilliant blue silky blouse hanging slightly off her left shoulder to expose some skin, wearing four inch sparkly silver heels and some blingy, dangling earrings to match, her head tilted just barely, and with a whisper of a smile playing on her lips.
Confidence. A certain discovery. She’d come far and knew where she was going.
Tears smarted the backs of her eyes. She wanted that again. My career. Sweet music that tells a story. My fierce claim on who I am. My voice.
Could she make that comeback? Could she uncover the balance between loving what she did and the peace she craved?
Can I find my way back to my dream?
“Thanks.” Ryder bit out the word through clenched teeth as he followed Cassidy onto the porch, the front door swinging almost closed behind him.
The chill in the air was nothing compared to the coldness in his voice.
How could he have exposed his child to Cassidy and think his little family would come out unscathed? Seeing that poster—something he avoided on a daily basis—dropped him back to cold, hard reality. His daughter would get hurt.
“For the ride. And helping with Molly.”
“Least I could do.” Cassidy shrugged, hugging her arms.
“Best you get you and Bandit back to the ranch.” He hesitated for a split-second when he’d went to say home and quickly changed it in the end. She didn’t want this place. No, she didn’t want me.
His heart twisted in agony. It had been years since that had happened. And Cassidy was always the culprit.
She leaned against a porch post. “Kicking me out?” Her voice caught.
Why doesn’t she just go and leave me alone?
He mimicked her and pressed his back against the post on his side, staring at her, a slice of light coming from the crack in the door and yawning across her features.
Shadows hid too much, but he recalled her many different reactions.
Unsettled.
It bounced off her now.
Ryder sucked in a sharp breath, taking in the fresh, cool air in his lungs. But he couldn’t clear out the lingering need to soothe her.
This wasn’t going like he planned. Not one bit.
Silence thrummed between them.
An owl hooted.
Cassidy tipped her head back and rested it against the wooden post. “I keep asking myself why.”
The soft words landed like raindrops and straight to the space behind his ribs, sliding in and taking a spot there. Just like when we were dating.
“Hard work. Lots of it, too. Yeah, it will get you far, most said.”
“It did.” The longer she stayed, the more his willpower crumbled. He flicked a glance down her sexy, curvy body and couldn’t help but wonder at how tiny she seemed, how he could span her waist with both his hands. Again. A blast of desire swirled inside him. “Cass, don’t beat yourself up or beat a dead horse.”
She chuckled. It came out gruff and raw. And so unlike her usual laugh.
Why couldn’t he gauge her now? “Find a new normal.” Quit getting to me, woman!
Jerking her head to look at him, she dropped her arms and took a step forward and then another step, and then rested her fists on her hips. “What did you say?”
He suppressed a moan at the sweet scent and delicate heat of her washing over his senses. “You heard me.”
“I don’t want new. I want the old me back.”
“Not happening.”
“Can’t you go along for this fantasy of mine?”
No, she didn’t just say fantasy, did she? Visions of her and him together jumped in his mind. “Nope. Not that or the ride.” It slammed down hard just as he intended. “Put your big girl panties on, Cass. The sooner you face it the sooner you’ll figure out the how and the way to follow a new dream of yours.”
He could hear her breathing hard, like she’d run a race and lost. “Dang you, Ryder Hadley. I know what you’re up to.”
“Do you now?”
“Something you’ve always done.”
“Challenge you?” He knew the answer; he’d been a party to this before.
When she got cold feet right before going on stage in the old days, he’d distract her by forcing out the fear and going for what she wanted.
“Is that so? More like pushing me.”
“Call it whatever you want to. Fact is, you’re selling yourself short. Never thought you, Cassidy James McCall, would do that.”
“Am not. I don’t need you to tell me anything, you hear?”
“Loud and clear.” He bit back a smile. He could almost picture steam coming out of her ears.
“Just so you know.” She harrumphed, turned, and then marched down the steps and back to her truck. Bandit chased after her.
“Good.” Finally, she’s leaving.
“I will prove you wrong.”
“Do that.” Please, do that. For both our sakes. Go on with your life, Cass, and I’ll muddle through mine protecting my daughter’s heart.
“I will!” She got in the truck, helped her dog in, and then slammed the door shut. In an instant, she fired up the engine, turned the vehicle around, and then took off.
Ryder watched the red taillights until they faded away.
His gut churned. His heart twisted again. Everything in him longed to call her back.
“Better to let go...” Some dreams had to die and having Cassidy in his life was one of them.
