Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rylee jolted awake, disoriented in the dark.
There was no telling what roused her from her sleep and at first, she couldn’t figure out where she was.
She peered into the dark room, blinking as her eyes adjusted and that’s when the memories of the night before came crashing down on her like a tidal wave.
The power outage.
The crashing sound in her basement.
Reconnecting with the little boy from her past.
But he wasn’t a little boy anymore. Tate was all man. He was all hard planes and sweet smiles. He was bergamot and spice. He was everything the men in New York were not. Tate Dennison had a way of making her spill things about herself that she hadn’t told anyone.
That story at the restaurant took place in the early days of living with her aunt and uncle. It had been during a time when she didn’t feel she fit in anywhere and Roxy had been the bridge to helping her get settled.
The people who ran in her aunt’s social circles would never understand where Rylee came from. They would never be able to grasp her desire to stay busy and keep a job. Part of her wondered if at some point she’d be pushed into running charities while she hung on her husband’s arm like a trophy.
She draped an arm across her eyes and sighed. It had taken one memory to show her that her biggest fear about getting married was losing herself.
While people of high society might understand her desire to be independent, Roxy wouldn’t understand the fear underneath it.
It’s funny since Roxy had left to make her own way because of her fear of being locked away in Montana.
Perhaps her own fear was what made up the foundation of why she’d come home in the first place.
And why she didn’t want help getting on her feet.
So why was she here?
Why had it been so easy to just drop all pretenses and come next door?
Not easy.
Habit.
There had been something pulling her to this farmhouse down the trail she’d walked so many times as a child. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
Rylee sighed again and rubbed at her eyes. Then she tugged the blankets from her body and sat upright. It was still quiet. The darkness outside the window wasn’t as thick as it had been when she’d arrived. The storm had passed and the sun would be rising.
The Dennison family didn’t have a farm like she had when she’d been growing up. They owned horses, but their property wasn’t used for ranching or farming like others in the area. What had Lydia said about her brothers? They were horse trainers, or something along those lines.
A tug on her heart had her tempted to ask Tate if he’d consider letting her go for a ride. It had been so long since she’d been in the saddle. She longed for it, craved the wind in her hair and the rhythmic beat of the hooves that complemented the pulsing of her own heart.
Perhaps she’d scrounge up enough courage to make that request.
One day this summer before she left.
She’d make sure of it.
Rylee stood and stretched then hunted for her shoes. It was very likely they were still sodden and covered in mud. She’d live. She needed to get back to her farmhouse and figure out why the power went out.
Somebody had set her shoes neatly by the fireplace, and they weren’t in terrible shape.
The inside was dry and while the exterior was dirty, they weren’t caked in mud like she’d expected.
She pulled her tennis shoes onto her feet and laced them up in the dark.
With each creak of the house, she lifted her head so she could look toward the darkened hallway where at least a couple of bedrooms were.
There were others upstairs. Tate was probably on this level.
She didn’t need him waking up as she took her leave.
He’d probably stop by even if she left him a note not to bother. She’d overstayed her welcome as it was.
She grabbed the sack of muddy clothes and promised herself she’d bring back what she’d had to borrow. Then she rose to her feet and turned toward the door off the side of the kitchen.
Rylee’s hand clapped over her mouth, stifling the startled scream that threatened to wake the entire house.
A tall, broad figure, cast in shadow and only partially lit by the light on the stove, caught her eye. She dropped her hand to her side. “Tate? What are you doing?”
He pushed away from the counter and took a couple silent steps toward her.
He had a glass in his hand, but there was no hint of coffee in the air.
Water? Milk or juice maybe? The thought made her stomach growl, but she was quickly distracted when he murmured, almost a purr, “I could ask you the same thing.”
She straightened, her grip on the bag tightening. “I was going home.”
“Not without me, you’re not.”
Her spine stiffened and her hackles rose. “I beg your pardon?”
His chuckle shot a shiver clean through her. “You said there was something in your basement. Do you think I’d just let you go back to your house if you could be in danger?”
Rylee’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and she had nothing to argue with. He made a good point—one she knew wasn’t worth fighting over.
“Besides, I can’t just let you steal my clothes without a guarantee you’ll bring them back.”
She scoffed. “I wasn’t stealing your clothes. I needed to wash them, then you would have had them back. Probably in better condition than before.”
Even in the dim lighting the amusement was carved into every one of his features. The arch of his brow. The faint hint of a dimple in his chin. Her heart reacted to him in ways she wasn’t proud of. She didn’t like feeling so off balance—especially around him.
But she couldn’t figure out why.
Still flustered, she moved her weight from one foot to the other.
Her eyes dipped to the glass he held, following its trajectory as he brought it to his lips and took a sip.
A change in subject was definitely in order.
Maybe then she could get out of his home and back to hers.
Maybe then she’d be able to figure out her mess without the help from anyone else. “Not a coffee drinker?”
He arched a brow and glanced down at his beverage. “I’m not in the habit of waking Sleeping Beauty and that’s exactly what my coffee machine would have done.”
It was good it was still dark enough in his home to hide the blush that wove its way beneath her skin.
Tate didn’t need to know how effective his flirting was with her.
She wasn’t here to flirt, fall in love, or couple up.
She was in Rocky Ridge to find herself. Leaning on someone else wasn’t in the cards.
She folded her arms. “While I appreciate the thoughtfulness, it was unnecessary. As you can see, I’m on my way—”
“Where’s the coffee?”
Both Rylee and Tate jumped at the deep sound of Jason’s voice. His appearance made Rylee all too aware of her proximity to Tate. At some point they’d closed the gap between themselves. They were mere inches apart as she stared up at him and he grinned right back.
She took a quick step away from him then attempted to dart around him toward the door, but he was too fast. His warning look was enough to give her pause.
“We were just about to make some, isn’t that right, Rylee?”
Her mouth popped open.
Tate’s grin widened. “We were just trying to figure out what flavor of creamer to pick.”
“I vote hazelnut,” Jason announced as he reached the fridge and pulled a breakfast sandwich from the freezer. He glanced over his shoulder at the two of them. “You guys want one?”
Before Rylee could argue, Tate answered for them both. “Absolutely.”
She sat beside Jason while he pelted her with questions about her life in New York and what her plans were in Rocky Ridge. Neither one of them reacted when she admitted she only planned on staying for the summer. Rylee couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed by that fact.
Why was it so easy to talk to these men after all this time? They’d all changed. That much was apparent. And at the same time, it felt like they had picked up where they’d left off.
The Three Musketeers.
That’s what her father had called them. They’d been inseparable once upon a time. Even if Tate and Jason had made a couple attempts to ditch her. She’d always found her way back to them.
Tate got a phone call and Rylee said her goodbyes to Jason. She was nearly halfway to her home when the sound of hurried steps came from behind her.
“Rylee, will you wait a minute?”
She tossed Tate an exasperated look over her shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee. And the breakfast. And the warm clothes, but—”
“But nothing. I told you I didn’t want you going back there without someone.”
Rylee kept her thoughts from showing on her face. “I’m pretty sure that whoever was there, isn’t anymore. No one in their right mind would stay in that house with the storm raging and no power.”
“Regardless, I’m coming to check it out.”
Her brows furrowed. She would have asked him why, but she knew better. He’d probably give her a speech on being a gentleman. And what could she say to that? She wasn’t interested in being treated right?
Blowing out a breath that ruffled the few strands of hair near her face, she nodded. Then she continued toward her home. They walked in silence for several moments but then Tate must have gotten tired of the quiet.
“I train people to compete in the Rodeo. Jason and I both do.”
She cut him a glance. “That sounds interesting. You guys were always really good with horses. But I would have thought you’d train animals instead of people.”
He chuckled. “Jason was always the one who could calm down a skittish horse. I was better with people.”
“You guys must make a pretty good team, then.”
His grin might have been capable of shooing away storm clouds if they weren’t already missing from the sky. He had a way about him that drew people in. Or was that just her?
No, it couldn’t be. He said himself. He was good with people.
“You compete?” she asked, desperate to keep her thoughts off how nice of a specimen he really was.
“Compete? Like in the rodeo?”
She nodded.
“We did for a while, but we never wanted that life. The traveling and living in hotels. It can wear on you.”
Rylee nodded again. “Yeah, I could see that. My dad was the same way. Me, too, I suppose. To be able to find a place to call home, to lay your head at night, to know where you belong? That’s the dream.” New York didn’t feel that way. Then again, Rocky Ridge didn’t quite either.
Tate’s eyes were on her, and the warmth of them was enough to give her pause.
She’d put a missing puzzle piece into place when he opened that door last night.
But that was silly. They barely knew each other anymore.
It was just the nostalgia speaking. Rylee couldn’t help herself.
She turned toward him and half-expected him to look away.
But he didn’t.
He maintained her stare, reading her, searching for what, she couldn’t be certain. It was the smile in his eyes that kept hers locked with his. “I envy you,” she blurted.
His smile faltered. “Why’s that?”
“You know what you want. Where you’re going in life. You have a career that suits you. A family by your side. Everything you could want.”
“Not everything.” Tate had murmured it under his breath. Or something that sounded an awful lot like it. She wasn’t brave enough to ask him to expand on it, though.
Instead, she sighed. “I went to school for business. My uncle was a businessman, and he was very analytical. He wanted to make sure that I developed an understanding for how the world worked. In his eyes, a business degree could ensure I was taken care of in whatever field I wanted to conquer.”
“And was he right?”
Her steps faltered as she considered Tate’s question.
If she got married to one of the men back home, she’d be able to use her knowledge while helping run charities.
Having a knowledge of moving parts when it came to money, catering, invitations, etc.
, would come in handy. And if she chose not to marry?
She could get a job in nearly any field—but maybe that had more to do with her familial connections. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted.
They made it to the house and Tate picked up his pace to block her way into her home. “Stay here while I check it out,” he demanded.
Rylee’s hands were immediately on her hips. “It’s my house.”
“And I’m not going to let you become a casualty of whatever you might have heard.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“I mean it, Ry-Ry. You might have been able to keep up with us when we were kids, but this is different. Stay. Put.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue that time before he took the steps two at a time and entered the house.
Rylee waited outside for what felt like an eternity.
It shouldn’t have taken so long for him to figure out what was wrong.
The longer she waited, the more anxious she became.
Eventually, she threw her hands into the air and stomped over to the barn.
Her father had a gun safe in there. It had been years since she’d handled a hunting rifle, but even if she didn’t pull the trigger, she’d look scary enough.
It took three tries before she figured out the combination.
The rifles were old, but in decent condition due to the quality of the safe.
Unfortunately, they weren’t loaded and she couldn’t find any ammunition readily available.
There wasn’t any time to hunt it down and most folks around here knew to run when they heard the telltale sounds of a bullet being chambered.
She marched back toward the house and pushed through the door. “Tate?”
A loud crash followed by a grunt and a hollered curse had her running for the basement stairs.