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Hunter
Bailey maneuvered the Silverado over the dips, and past the curves of the long dirt driveway of the B & B ranch, then parked in front of the house. After killing the engine, she darted out of the truck and went for my carry-on.
I dropped a kiss on Muffin’s forehead before hooking the leash to her collar. We jumped out of the truck, the leash straining as she shot off in all directions at once, eager to explore the new environment. In the distance, a black German shepherd raced toward us.
Muffin barked, wagging her tail. Keeping hold of her leash, I bent to rub my hands all over Chester. He showered my face with saliva. “Chester, you handsome dude. Good to see you.”
He shifted his attention to Muffin and while they sniffed each other, I took a moment to breathe in the pungent odor of horse manure, earth and hay. God, I’d missed those smells, even the less pleasant ones. After high school, the urge to get away from my parents had driven me to Texas A & M where I’d studied equine medicine. Then I’d taken the residency in California to add a few more miles between my family and me. I’d met a variety of people and explored their worlds, but the Thayers always drew me back to Bride.
I never stayed long though, because it didn’t usually take me long to remember why I’d left. As soon as Blake could work and I completed my mission, I’d be gone again. I wasn’t sure yet where I would settle, but it wouldn’t be Bride. I didn’t want to live my old life and I sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near my parents.
The B & B ranch hadn’t changed much; several structures still surrounded their modest but pretty four-bedroom home. The real time and money had been invested in accommodating their exquisite Arabians—a breeding barn with a laboratory to process the stallions’ semen, as well as spaces needed to train champion horses in cutting and reining. The ranch also boasted three stables holding ten stalls each. A washing station stood on the other side of an exercise pen right next to the hay shed. Beyond the tack room with an attached workshop, cattle grazed with a few mares.
I couldn’t wait to get my hands on some Arabians, and work with them a little like I used to. But first, I needed to see my parents.
Bud, B & B’s long-time ranch foreman, slapped me on the arm. “Good to have you home. Need some help?” He nodded toward Muffin. “I can take her around and introduce her while you settle in.”
“I’d appreciate it, man.” We knuckle bumped and I watched as Bud led Muffin toward the stables. Chester dogged them all the way.
By the time I’d dragged my two giant suitcases over the dirt, Bailey had already disappeared into the house. When I got through the door, I stumbled on my carry-on. She’d just dumped it in the entryway.
A dull ache began in my chest. I loved Bailey like family but I couldn’t compete with the blood ties she and Blake shared. I had to believe I could fix whatever was bothering her and this bump would smooth over. It had to. I’d always felt closer to her and Blake than anyone else. I couldn’t lose that.
Maybe her attitude would improve once she got those papers.
My military boots sounded over the old wood floors as I scooped up my bag. I hung it over my shoulder, then started up the stairs with the rest of my luggage. I exercised regularly and kept myself in great shape yet getting everything up the stairs was ridiculous. If I hadn’t packed the bags myself I might’ve suspected someone filled them with bricks.
Navigating the load through the tight passageway, I grunted and took care not to scuff the walls. When I finally reached the top of the stairs, snickering reached my ears.
“You couldn’t make two trips? Or wait for me?”
I slowed my ragged breath so she wouldn’t see I was winded. “Figured one trip was more efficient and I had no idea you planned to chip in.” While I wished I hadn’t brought so much crap with me, I’d be in Bride at least a few weeks and didn’t want to take time out for frequent laundry loads or to stop and buy more clothes when I was needed at the ranch. Plus, I hadn’t had a chance to search for the annulment papers Bailey had requested before I packed. So I’d snagged a small stack of files, which added to the weight.
“It’s just as well. That was quite entertainin’ to watch.” She bit her lip, suppressing a smile. “Had to check on Blake. You know what a big baby he is when he’s sick or hurt.”
I’d quit panting and could talk without effort now. “I remember vividly. Mrs. T around?” I was dying to see their mom. My parents could wait. So could the annulment papers.
“No,” she said, still talking to me from the bottom of the stairs. “She left early this morning on ranch business. Should be home by lunch.”
Which gave me two hours to visit my parents and get back. “I’ll stow these and find the papers. Then we can leave, if that works for you.”
“Sure. Take your time, unpack. I’ll make a round through the ranch until then, check on Muffin.” Bailey didn’t wait for a reply, striding out the front door.
“I’ll be ready to go in five,” I called out.
The Thayers had always kept a room for me, though I’d never officially lived with them. Even when I’d gone away to college or after I’d been swallowed by life in Los Angeles, Mrs. T refused to reassign the room.
I pushed the door open, bumping into the doorframe under the weight of my baggage. Everything in the room was the same as I’d left it. The navy rug still lay by my bedside over the oak floors, our team flags hung on the wall and football trophies lined my dresser. None of that had meant anything to my parents, but Mrs. T had always made sure a celebratory dinner was ready after every win. Mr. Thayer had never missed a game.
He’d passed away two years ago and it felt like yesterday. The meanest man in Bride, my grandfather, had made it into his eighties, but the kindest man I’d ever met hadn’t reached his fiftieth birthday. My throat swelled and I blinked away the burn in my eyes.
After tossing one of the suitcases on the bed, I unzipped it, moved my medical bag out of my way and pulled out the stack of files. I sifted through them, chose the folder marked “Vegas” and located the thick mustard packet from Las Vegas Municipal Court. I instinctively sought the opening and noticed the envelope was still sealed. I plucked a knife from my dresser top and sliced along the end, then slid out the stack of legal papers and scanned for the one with the official stamp.
After reading through the court’s notes, I set the papers aside, swallowing hard. My plans for staying in Texas had just taken a drastic new twist.
Bailey was already angry over the Vegas thing. Would she be even less happy with me when she learned we were still married? That wouldn’t be fixed overnight and I couldn’t leave Bride without knowing we were good. Not to mention I couldn’t risk not seeing the annulment through to the end.
I couldn’t take off until I knew the ranch was financially sound anyway. Deserting the Thayers when they were in danger of losing more of their land wasn’t an option. I’d have to stay in Bride a little longer than I’d thought. A few months maybe?
Threading my fingers through my hair, I paced the wood floor in a panic. Bailey was going to kill me for messing up on the annulment.
I tucked the stack of papers back into the suitcase then bolted into the hallway and leaped down the stairs. “Bailey!”
“Hunter?” she called out from somewhere outside.
I flew out the front door. “Where are you?”
“In here.”
I followed her voice to one of the stables to see her running her hands over a foal, touching its mane, tail, hooves. Imprinting, getting the foal used to human contact so she’d be less flighty and manageable as she got older.
After a quick scan of the vicinity to make sure we were alone, I huddled closer to her and whispered, “You never received anything from the Las Vegas court? Anything, like maybe papers notifying you of missin’ signatures?”
“No.” Her hands balled into fists and she slowly stood to her full height, already glaring in anticipation of what came next. “You better not be sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’.”
“The thing is...” I craned my neck around, checking again for eavesdroppers. “I never opened the envelope. It arrived and I naturally assumed it’d been approved by the judge and stamped. So I never actually looked.”
Bailey’s nostrils flared and her eyes grew wide and wild. She stepped away from the foal. “Are you tellin’ me you did it wrong and we’re still married?”
“No. I’m not sayin’ that.” I backed away so she couldn’t take a swing at me. “But only because you already did.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Hunter Evermond, I hate you right now. And if you speak a word of this to anyone, I’ll feed you to the pigs.”
“You guys don’t have pigs.” I sidestepped, creating a little more distance between Bailey and me. She smelled wicked good and I needed to focus. “Trust me, I don’t want anyone finding out about this either.”
“Of course you don’t.” Her lip curled up and she shoved a set of car keys at me. “Have fun visitin’ the freezer folk. Alone.” She stormed out of the barn.
That could’ve gone worse, I supposed. I sighed, knowing mending things with Bailey would be twice as hard now. On the upside, I’d be seeing my parents shortly. If my dad honored client-attorney privilege with me, he could give me advice on how to approach the annulment. Maybe he could even do it for me. I’d promised Bailey I wouldn’t tell a soul but shouldn’t my dad get a pass if he made it his mission to detach me from Bailey? He’d want me to cut all legal ties with her as quickly as possible to ensure she never got her hands on Evermond money.
Evermonds didn’t marry people like the Thayers. We were supposed to choose partners of equal breeding and social standing. My family was so full of it. People didn’t come any better than the Thayers. Fortunately, my parents’ snobbishness could work in my favor and get me out of this mess sooner.
After collecting Muffin and giving Chester another rubdown, I jumped into the Silverado and hightailed it out of the driveway toward the old mansion that had never felt like home, to the people who had never felt like family.
Ten minutes later, I cruised over their smooth paved driveway, past the picturesque garden. The graceful lines of Fletcher Manor and the sweeping landscape always calmed me. Fresh paint covered the clapboard exterior but it remained white, as always. The friendly wraparound porch welcomed me in southern style, yet couldn’t fool those who knew the kind of people who lurked inside.
Sunshine beat on the windshield of the truck as I killed the engine, making me grateful for the autumn breeze. I ran a hand over Muffin’s silky fur and let my head fall back, stealing a moment for thought. How could I present this situation to my father without appearing like an irresponsible moron? My dad tolerated little nonsense and would guilt me to no end—the main reason why I rarely came to him for help—and even then, he might leave me to handle it on my own.
A movement outside drew my attention. I climbed out of the truck, leaving Muffin on the seat. An enormous straw hat shadowed a smudge of dirt under my mother’s eye. Her loose long-sleeved button-down over a T-shirt and loose-fitting jeans told me I’d interrupted her gardening.
“Hi, Mom.” I bent to deliver the obligatory kiss on her cheek.
She patted my arm and turned way, waving for me to follow. “What brings you by?”
Did I need a reason? Had she realized I’d been fourteen hundred miles away all of last year? As usual, I felt like an outsider being invited to someone else’s home. I scooped up Muffin and raced to catch up to her. “I’m here for a couple months helpin’ out the Thayers. Blake was in an accident and can’t work the farm.”
“Come say hello to your father.” She held the screen door open for me, her gaze drifting to Muffin. As if oblivious to Muffin’s extreme cute levels, my mom spun around and barreled through the foyer. “He’s in his study. Are you stayin’ for dinner?”
That would involve staying for lunch. And her words may have formed a question, but it hadn’t sounded like an invitation either. I’d never figured out whether my mom was oblivious to how she came across to others or if she intentionally worded things in such a way not to inspire deep bonds. The latter, more likely.
“Thank you, no. Just arrived and came straight here—haven’t even unpacked yet. But I’ll come by again as soon as I have a chance.” Or when I couldn’t avoid it any longer without being rude.
We stopped in front of the door leading to my dad’s study. My mom eyed Muffin then reached out with two fingers to pat the top of her head. Riveted to the pup, she leaned in to smell her. Apparently satisfied she wouldn’t catch a terrible stink, she stroked Muffin’s back.
“Dan, Hunter is here,” she called out. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Still petting Muffin, she pushed open the door to his study and ushered me inside. She was about to dart away when she froze, hesitated as she stared at Muffin, then reached for her. “I’ll take that.”
“You don’t have to. I can watch her. She’s very well behaved.”
She clucked her tongue. “Exactly. She won’t be a hassle at all.”
Weird. My mother had never been much of a pet person. I’d had to beg for every single animal we’d ever had. The familiar woodsy scent of my dad’s cigars tickled my nose and I surrendered Muffin—along with the mysteries surrounding my mother.
“Hey, Dad.” I shuffled over the plush cream rug and sat in the chair opposite him.
“Good to see you, son. What’s the occasion?” He slid the newspaper aside and set his cigar in the ashtray, tendrils of smoke curling up then dissipating.
I mentally deflated at their lack of warmth, that they would be surprised at my visit. They thoroughly lived up to the nickname Bailey had given them. “Just flew in to give Blake a hand on the ranch for a few weeks. Thought I’d stop by before I got too involved with my duties there.” I’d accidentally given myself a segue and I was going to use it. “Not sure how easy it’s gonna be to escape or how often I’ll be able to visit. They’re goin’ to keep me pretty busy.”
He flicked the end of his cigar into the marble ashtray, his unflinching gaze steady on mine. I tapped my fingertips on the polished surface of his gleaming cherry wood desk, my focus bouncing between the shelves lined with leather bound books, the wide window and the mounted antlers behind my dad.
I had to get out of there.
“Spit it out, son.”
I blew out a breath, annoyed at him for assuming I needed something. I mean, I did now. However, I’d already planned to visit before discovering the big problem. But once either of my parents set their minds about someone, no one could change it. I resigned myself to them believing I didn’t have the decency to come calling to be social. “Can we keep this between us?”
His eyes shot to the ceiling as though he’d already lost patience with me. “Yes. What is it this time?”
My jaw clenched. It’s not like I asked him to help me every time I saw him. In fact, I only asked them for help as a last resort. “Remember when I went to Pierre and Renee’s weddin’ in Vegas a year ago last summer?” When he nodded, I forged on. “I partied a bit too much one night and ended up marrying this girl.” I laughed once and waved an arm through the air.
He raised one brow, his mouth flat-lining. “You became inebriated and thought it would be a great idea to be totally cliché and get married to some girl you didn’t even love?”
“Obviously, I wasn’t thinkin’ clearly. I immediately went to get an annulment the next mornin’,” I added before my dad had a chance to judge me too harshly—which was inevitable and made me wonder why I was trying to save myself.
“That’s a relief.” He rested his elbows on the table, waiting patiently for me to finish my story. “So what’s the problem?”
“Turns out the annulment was never finalized.” I waited a beat. “I’m still legally married and I was hopin’ you’d help me finish the annulment, make sure it gets done right.”
“Since you were married there, the residency requirement may not apply. But I’m not licensed to practice in Nevada and not sure of the laws. Haven’t handled an annulment here in years.” He expelled air from his lungs and ran a hand over his silver hair. “I believe it may be too late for an annulment in Texas. Well, you could try, but that may require presentin’ your case before a judge. You’d have to wait for a court date and it’ll take some time.”
Oh, crap. Bailey was going to be pissed—more than she already was. I let my forehead fall into my palms as I groaned. “Bailey’s gonna to kill me.”
“Your wife is a friend of Bailey’s?” The leather of his chair creaked as he leaned forward. “Any woman would be entitled to half of everything you’ve earned since marriage, but you’ve been in school, then the internship. No real income to speak of. If she gets an unscrupulous attorney, they could argue for spousal support on the grounds of infidelity. Likely since you’ve undoubtedly been with other women since the marriage. She could receive more as the injured party.”
My brain staggered with all the scenarios. “She doesn’t want anything except freedom from me. It should be simple.”
He scoffed. “All women want something. What’s her name?”
I swallowed, bracing myself for his reaction. “Bailey.”
A low rumble built in his throat. “You married that Thayer girl?”
I banged my head on his desk. “Relax, dad. She’s not a gold digger. It was one night of drunken stupidity and the marriage was never consummated. She wants out as badly as I do.”
He stood, signaling he was done with me. “I’ll do some research, work out the best way to approach this. In the meantime, be nice to her. Don’t do anything to give her the urge to take you for a ride.”
I was more worried I’d have to spend extra time with my dad than Bailey ripping me off. The freezer folk weren’t what I considered fun. “I’ll be careful. And you’ll call me when you work out how to handle this?”
“Don’t worry, son. I’ll figure out a way to make this go away.” He relit the cigar which was my cue to leave. He only smoked alone or with other gentlemen of his social standing. Offspring didn’t count.
“Everything else going good? The practice is thrivin’?” I asked, not ready to be discarded. Despite feeling like I’d always been in their way growing up, I couldn’t fight the natural desire to be closer to my parents. And since I’d likely be in Bride long after Blake returned to work to see the divorce through, I may as well try to get through to my parents. If that was even possible.
He raised a brow. “Did you come here to talk business, son?”
My mood plummeted. And it was already low after my last conversation with Bailey. “No. I just want to know how you and mom are.”
“We’re not going to die any time soon, if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”
“Never crossed my mind.” Frustration rippled through me. “Give me a break, Dad.”
He shot me a narrow-eyed look. “We’re fine.”
I stared at him a long minute, wondering if I’d ever be able to break through to either of them. Regardless, it wasn’t going to happen today. “I’d better get goin’.”
He glanced down, then gingerly flipped the page of his newspaper.
I followed the scent of my mother’s lavender perfume winding through the house, finding her and Muffin in the kitchen.
My mom held a tiny piece of cheese in one hand, the other on her hip as she towered over the pup. “Sit.”
“You’re spoiling her. Normal dog treats are sufficient and easier on the digestive track.” Muffin’s tail wagged at my voice and she scrambled toward me, her rump fishtailing on the slippery marble floor. I plucked her up and planted a kiss on her furry mouth, careful to withdraw quickly. Muffin’s tongue could be lightning fast and that wasn’t the kind of tongue action I liked. “Also, cheese gives her gas.”
Mom tapped her lip. “I’m worried Muffin will get lost on the ranch. And aren’t you afraid coyotes will get her?”
“Chester’s presence discourages wildlife from the ranch.” I tilted my head and wondered why she, of all people, would micromanage me with a pet. She knew how caring I’d always been with animals. My love of animals is what inspired me to go to vet school. “Besides, she’s with me most of the time. At night, she sleeps on my bed.”
“I don’t know.” She set the cheese bit on the counter and affected a dire tone. “You’ll be busy at the ranch. She won’t get the attention she needs.”
What angle was my mom working? She had to know I was incapable of abusing an animal in any way and I’d never neglect Muffin. Regardless, Chester and many humans around the ranch would be more than willing to entertain Muffin.
Maybe my mom was trying to steal my dog. I’d prefer her to bond with me, but I wasn’t sure her having a dog to love was a bad thing at all. “You don’t have food or toys here.”
My mom’s eyes sparkled. “I was about to go to the market and grab a few things. I can make one more stop at the pet store.”
Air whooshed out of my lungs in resignation. “Switching food can upset a dog’s stomach. Also, she likes squeaky toys. Rope, too, but only if you’re going to use it and play with her.”
Her face lit up like sunshine as she reached over and removed the dog from my clutches. Without acknowledging me further, my own mother baby-talked to Muffin as she strode away. I stood there until her voice faded. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Muffin.
Had I lost my damn dog?