Barbara Daille - The Rodeo Man's Daughter

“Tess—”

She raised her hand to cut him off. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Shouldn’t have wasted her breath. At least her apology had held some sincerity.

Caleb hadn’t changed, and she’d been foolish to think he might have. Even more foolish to hope she could ever feel close to him again. “Tell you what. Let’s just leave the past in the past, where it belongs. It’s history.”

“Yeah, but you’re part of my history. And I’m part of yours. No getting away from that.”

No, she couldn’t ever forget it. If he only knew how big a role their past played in her life every day…

A cold chill running through her now, she wrapped her arms around her waist, missing the warmth she’d so recently felt. “I don’t know where you’re planning to go with that, Caleb, but you can just stop right there. I won’t have any more interest in your story than I did in your rodeo tales.” She forced herself to stand straight again, abandoning the support of the picnic table. Then she steeled herself to look up at him. “Yes, I’m part of your history,” she agreed. “The part you left behind.”

EVEN THOUGH he now had his mind and hands occupied with two fistfuls’ worth of playing cards, Caleb had plenty of focus left to dwell on the conversation he’d just had with Tess.

Or tried to have, more like it. She hadn’t listened to what he’d already said and wouldn’t let him get another word in edgewise. He had heard the hurt in her voice and knew part of him deserved the words she’d flung at him. Still, they’d stung.

He’d have protested, would have spoken up in his own defense, if her pint-size daughter hadn’t returned to the backyard to lead him away and into the dining room, where the other girls had gathered around the long table.

Tess eventually joined them. Reluctantly, he could tell.

He had to fight not to crush the cards in his fist.

Yeah, dammit, he’d left her behind. But he’d meant to come back. He’d sworn it. Only things hadn’t worked out that way. Life never did go the way you had it planned. Tess ought to know that. Hadn’t she said as much herself when she’d told him about her marriage not working out?

Besides, she’d come to him first. To deliver her good news.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on the cards. He looked around the dining room again at the scattering of small tables he’d seen earlier, when he’d first arrived and she had brought him into this room. She’d cut him off quick when he’d asked her about business.

She’d lied, too, saying things were fine.

When Nate had taken him to the back of the yard to get more charcoal for the grill, he’d seen the worn-out condition of the shed there and the broken-down fence sagging behind it. When he and the girls had put the card game on hold to rearrange the living room furniture for the sleepover, he’d seen the frayed edge of carpet behind the couch. Roselynn’s business wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He’d also bet real estate didn’t keep Tess as busy as she’d let on.

He would eat this handful of cards if she could prove either of those things to him otherwise.

Well, if she wouldn’t give him the truth, he would get it somewhere else.

She’d just headed into the kitchen to put the teakettle on.

He threw his leftover cards onto the pile on the table. While one of the girls shuffled the deck, he rose to straddle his chair backward, tilting it on its rear legs, moving closer to a small table for two placed against one dining room wall.

Roselynn and Ellamae sat there, polishing off a couple of pieces of Ellamae’s pie. Roselynn turned her attention to him.

“Caleb, may I cut you another slice?”

He nodded. “Just a sliver.”

When she handed it to him, he took a forkful, smiled his appreciation, then said, “The bed-and-breakfast here is new since my time. How long have you had it running?”

“Just a year now.”

“Things going well?”

A slight wrinkle appeared between her brows and she fussed with the pie server. She didn’t have Tess’s flair for avoiding answers, though. “Fair to middlin’, I guess,” she said finally.

Ellamae made a choking sound. “Roselynn, your nose is gonna grow. Fact is,” she said to Caleb, “the inn business is almost out the window.”

“No guests?”

“No guests.”

“We’ve had a few,” Roselynn protested. Then she sighed. “But not for a long spell.”

He couldn’t state the obvious, that Flagman’s Folly didn’t have enough going for it to make it a tourist attraction. She’d have to do something to draw them in. “Are you advertising?” he asked.

“That’s expensive.”

“True. But as people say, sometimes you’ve got to spend money to make money.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Roselynn lifted the empty pie plate. “Excuse me. I’ll just run this into the kitchen.”

When she’d gone, Ellamae chuckled. “Run’s the word, all right. Looks like you’ve just scared her off. Not something you’re used to with women, I’d reckon.”

“They’re usually headed in my direction,” he acknowledged. “Used to be, anyhow.”

“What happened?”

He blinked.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “I’m nosy. And I’m blunt. You ought to remember that from days past.”

“I sure do.” He laughed.

She was tough, too, and wiry, an older woman with graying hair and snapping dark eyes. Looked like any number of seasoned cowhands he could name. But Ellamae didn’t herd cattle. She had an even more demanding job.

Keeping the peace in this town.

Ellamae worked as the court clerk. As a teen, Caleb had been up at the judge’s bench a time or two, called in for jaywalking and riding with no lights on his bike—minor offenses not regularly requiring a court appearance. But in Flagman’s Folly, things didn’t always run the “regular” way. Another reason he’d left town at the first opportunity and never come back. Until today.

Judge Baylor kept a firm grip on his gavel inside the courtroom and out. And Caleb had always suspected Ellamae, with her direct way of dealing with folks, held as much power as the judge when it came to anything that went on around here.

Maybe that’s why she’d unbent once in a while and let him off the hook when the judge cracked down on him. Maybe it’s why she was conversing so freely with him tonight. And why he somehow felt he could trust her in return.

“We could use some straight talking right now,” he said, thinking of his earlier conversation with Tess. You could tell she and Ellamae came from the same family tree. Tess’s flat responses couldn’t have gotten any more direct, though in a closemouthed way that left him more frustrated than before. He sensed it wouldn’t be the same with Ellamae. But to get from her, you had to give. “As for what happened, I got bored with things. And then I got hurt.”

“Yeah, we heard about it. That bull tossed you six ways to Sunday, didn’t he?”

He nodded.

“I saw you limping some when you got here. Noticed it got worse after you stood at the grill a while. I thought that rehab place fixed you up.”

He shrugged. “After a long day, I get to feeling some aches.”

“Don’t we all.” She gave him a surprisingly sweet smile. “Well, you shoot pretty straight yourself, so I’ll tell you this. Roselynn might come back here ready to chat with you, but she won’t allow you much without a sugar coating on it. Tess won’t allow you anything at all.”

He nodded again.

“Found that out already, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “Then, it’s lucky you got me. I’ll flap my jaws in a good cause any day.”

Together, they shot glances toward the doorway. All clear.