Читать онлайн книгу "Lasso Her Heart"

Lasso Her Heart
Anna Schmidt


She'd always lived a charmed life, so when Bethany Taft's fiance was killed, she thought her chance for happiness was gone forever.But after her beloved aunt got engaged - at sixty! - Bethany found joy in her role as wedding planner. Spending time with Cody Dillard, the groom's son, was a given - the rancher flew Bethany to Chicago and back in his private plane.And between Cody's charming nature and her aunt's matchmaking attempts, Bethany found herself wondering if the God she'd turned her back on meant for her to be a bride, as well.









“Some people—some women—are just born to be city dwellers. It’s really not their fault that they can’t see the beauty in a place like this, a life like this,” Cody said.


Bethany shifted uncomfortably in her saddle and in the knowledge that Cody had just described her.

“Others,” Cody continued, “like your aunt, for example, can find beauty and a place to call home in the shadow of skyscrapers or mountains.”

“I suspect that’s because she long ago found her own inner peace and level of comfort.”

“And now she has someone to share it with,” he added.

Bethany couldn’t help but wonder if the wistfulness she heard was actually there in his tone or something she had felt shift ever so slightly in her own soul.




ANNA SCHMIDT


has been writing most of her life. Her first “critical” success was a short poem she wrote for a Bible-study class in fourth grade. Several years later she launched her career as a published author with a two-act play and several works of nonfiction.

Anna is a transplanted Virginian, now living in Wisconsin. She has worked in marketing and public relations for two international companies, and enjoys traveling, gardening, long walks in the city or country and antiquing. She has written six novels for Steeple Hill—one of which was a finalist for the coveted RITA


Award given by Romance Writers of America. Anna would love to “meet” her readers—feel free to contact her online at www.booksbyanna.com.




Lasso Her Heart

Anna Schmidt








Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted.

—Matthew 5:4


For Serena—

Thanks for being my tour guide and my

brainstorming buddy!




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION




Chapter One


Cody Dillard was accustomed to being on the receiving end of admiring glances from women of all ages. He was tall and lean with an easy smile and eyes so deep blue that he’d been asked more than once if the color was his or tinted contacts. He’d been a high school junior and a wannabe athlete when his body had suddenly taken on the hard planes of manhood and his head had finally caught up with his ears—appendages that had caused him no end of teasing as a kid.

Basically shy and introverted by nature, as a kid Cody had not been sure popularity and admiration were much better than the old teasing and snickers. But as a grown man, he actually enjoyed the attention. He had learned that he could make some grandmother’s day by returning her glance with a smile that bypassed the younger women around her. Cody was all about finding ways to lighten people’s load. That was how he had decided to honor the lives of his mother and brother—two souls who had filled the world with laughter, joy and generosity of spirit during their far-too-brief stay on earth.

Too often he saw people rushing around, their faces set into hard frowns or exhausted blank stares as if they knew they needed to get somewhere but were not sure what they would do once they arrived at their destination. Cody understood that, better than most who enjoyed the many blessings of life might guess. Even now, five years later, Cody fought every day not to surrender to his grief—and his guilt.

He ambled through O’Hare Airport where no one ambled—ever—and focused on individuals hurrying past him. A businessman, cell phone to ear, brushed past. He was juggling a carry-on bag, laptop and shopping bag with presents for the kiddies back home judging by the teddy bear that had just fallen unnoticed to the floor. Cody picked up the bear and hurried to catch up with the man. He watched the man’s expression go from annoyance at the interruption to appreciation. The man mouthed “thank you” as he turned so Cody could stuff the bear back in the bag.

Cody saw a security officer eyeing him suspiciously. Understanding that his leisurely stroll might be perfectly normal to him but stood out in a madhouse like O’Hare, Cody realized he’d better relieve the man’s suspicions.

“Excuse me, Officer,” he said. “I’m meeting someone coming in on the flight from D.C. Since I don’t have a ticket and can’t meet her at the gate, what do you suggest?”

The officer continued to check him out as he gathered information. Cody explained that he’d never actually met the woman he was meeting and was operating from a description provided by her aunt. Of course, Cody knew exactly what he needed to do, but asking the bored security guard for help gave the man purpose and an identity in the mad rush of the airport.

“If I were in your shoes,” the officer said, “I’d find out where the luggage is coming downstairs, make a sign with her name on it and wait by the carousel. You could also have her paged….”

Just then the public address system activated and the security guard paused as he and Cody both listened to the garbled message. The words were effectively drowned out by the multiple conversations and competing announcements of flights boarding around them.

“Or not,” the security guard added when the announcement ended. He grinned. “I’d go for the sign and baggage claim.”

Cody thanked him and ambled off.

“Hey, buddy,” the guard called, and a number of people—assuming trouble—stopped to gawk, wondering what Cody had done. Cody turned and the guard took an empty cardboard box from the candy kiosk vendor and waved it at him. “For your sign. She’s got a marker, too,” he added, nodding at the young woman managing the stand.

Cody grinned and retraced his steps, nodding to the gawkers on his way and causing one woman of a certain age to blush scarlet when he actually winked at her. “That’s really nice of you,” he said to the guard and candy vendor.

“What’s her name?” The girl sat poised to write with a large red marker.

“Bethany Taft.”

“Better just use first initial and last name,” the guard instructed as the girl wrote the name in bold script letters. She quickly added a border of flowers and vines and handed the finished work to Cody.

“Thanks. I really appreciate the help,” he said and continued down the corridor following the signs directing him to Baggage Claim.



Bethany Taft was having definite second thoughts about her latest decision. She was explaining all that to her best friend, Grace Marlowe, as the plane taxied for what seemed like the approximate distance that Grace had driven taking Bethany to the airport in Washington earlier.

“This was a mistake on so many levels,” she said, cupping one hand around the receiver of her cell phone and her mouth to keep her seatmate from overhearing and commenting on her conversation. The man had introduced himself as a lobbyist for the pork industry. Just after takeoff, he had insisted they put the center chair arm up to give them more room and then proceeded to take over every inch of space that Bethany left available as she pressed closer and closer to the wall of the plane.

“Give it a chance,” Grace replied. “Just remember what this is going to mean to your aunt Erika.”

Grace had always been good at finding the core of an issue and, of course, the core of this particular issue was that Bethany’s favorite aunt—a spinster for all of her sixty years—was now engaged to be married to Ian Dillard, widower and nationally known businessman. Erika had insisted that only Bethany could help her plan the wedding and the multitude of events leading up to it.

“You did such a terrific job for me,” Grace reminded her now. “No wonder Erika wants you to move in with her for the next several months while the two of you put this thing together. Besides it’s good for you to get away—meet new people….”

Get on with your life now that Nick’s gone.

Grace was a professional matchmaker by trade. She—and the rest of Bethany’s circle of friends and family—had been extremely concerned about Bethany’s change in outlook this past year. They understood that the sudden and unexpected death of her fiancé, Nick, a year earlier would have been enough to stun even the sunniest of souls—which Bethany had certainly been. But lately everyone had urged Bethany to move on—Nick would want that, they assured her.

“Did you set me up?” she asked Grace now. “Did you and Erika—”

“You’re rambling,” Grace interrupted. “I didn’t even know your aunt, a woman I have met exactly three times, was seeing anyone, much less engaged to be married.”

“So the fact that a couple of weeks ago you suggested that perhaps if I got away for a while—”

“Pure coincidence,” Grace assured her. “Or perhaps God’s handiwork?”

Bethany did not reply. God was not part of her life these days. Grace might not like it, but did not push the point. Bethany appreciated her friend’s willingness to accept for now that Bethany had chosen to cope with Nick’s tragic death on her own.

Turning her attention back to the conversation, she was glad to note that Grace had changed the subject. “Any sign of a gate yet?”

Bethany peered out the window. “We seem to be taking the grand tour as the pilot decides which one to choose. It’s raining,” she reported. “Another bad sign.”

“Or it could just be raining,” Grace replied with a laugh. “Give it a chance, Bethany. It means so much to Erika and why not immerse yourself in somebody else’s life and happiness for a while?”

“While I try to unearth a life and happiness for myself?”

“You said it, I didn’t,” Grace said just as the plane finally stopped at a gate and the announcement came on about checking overhead bins, et cetera.

“We’re here. I’ll call you later, okay?”

Bethany clicked the phone off. Next to her the lobbyist had begun to stir. “What can I get you, little lady?” he asked as he struggled up from the seat and into the narrow aisle. He popped the overhead bin across from their seat. “This and the jacket, right?”

Bethany nodded as he wrestled her overstuffed carry-on out of the tight space while she bent to retrieve the large bag disguised as her purse that she had pushed under the seat in front of her. “You carry it all with you,” he commented with a tight smile as he dropped the bag heavily to the floor with obvious relief. “Smart woman.”

Bethany favored him with a radiant smile as she slid across the seat and stood in the space he’d made for her in the aisle. Then to forestall any further conversation, she flicked open her cell again. She had three text messages. The first from her mother—an address she wanted Bethany to be sure and give Erika. The second was from Grace. It read simply, Call any time—I’m here. The third was from her Aunt Erika.



Change of plans, sweetie. Ian’s son, Cody, will meet your flight—probably at baggage. He’ll find you—I gave him a full description. Ciao!



Erika had casually dropped the name of Ian’s son before in the context of his being a major hottie, not to mention a brilliant businessman just like his father, and—by the way—single. Bethany groaned, closed the phone and shouldered her purse, makeup essentials, plus everything she couldn’t stuff in the suitcase bag as the masses pushed forward up the jetway and into the chaotic terminal.

She followed the signs, passed through the security exit and glanced around. Not a soul seemed to be waiting to meet and greet unless she wanted to count the twenty-something guy holding a huge bouquet of red roses. He was a good four inches shorter than she was without her platform espadrilles.

“Couldn’t be,” Bethany muttered, but she made eye contact and the guy lit up like the sky over the Potomac on the Fourth of July. Bethany took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face and started forward as she considered how she would manage to get through O’Hare carrying that bouquet without looking as though she were a candidate for Miss America.

Just then she heard an earsplitting squeal from just behind her left shoulder and a girl she recognized from her plane raced past her and into the waiting arms of the red rose guy. He swung her round and round and neither of them seemed to notice the cascade of rose petals that fell to the carpet to be trampled by the hordes as they made their way past the young couple.

Bethany stood frozen for an instant, unable to take her eyes off the couple. In the year since Nick’s death she had thought she was making progress. Then she would see a couple, madly in love, like these two. When had she last known that kind of unadulterated joy? The truth was that with Nick’s work that often involved traveling and her work, they had really not spent the kind of intense time together that some couples enjoyed. They had been the best of friends for years before becoming romantically involved. They had always assumed that once they were married there would be a lifetime for them to create memories.

They had even assumed that they had plenty of time to set a date and plan their wedding. They had been in love with the romance of being in love, but Nick had also been determined to achieve certain career milestones before settling down.

Bethany was tempted to go over to the couple and warn them, urge them not to take this gift for granted. Then someone jostled her from behind, gave her an irritated frown and by the time she readjusted her luggage, the couple was lost in the crowd. Bethany flicked open her phone and hit speed dial for Grace.

“I’m being met by sonny-boy,” she said without preamble.

“Really? What’s he like?”

“To hear Aunt Erika tell it, he’s Adonis come to earth, but since he’s not here, I couldn’t really say,” she muttered.

“Well, usually when Dad is being met somewhere, the driver stations himself at baggage claim.”

Grace’s father was a United States senator and no doubt used to the protocol of drivers and such. “What if I didn’t check luggage?” Bethany thought it was a perfectly logical question and was not at all amused when Grace burst out laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.

“You?” she gasped. “Without luggage?”

“All right. It was a reasonable question—for most people.” She surprised Grace as well as herself by seeing the humor in the idea of Bethany Taft traveling with anything less than the contents of a full closet.

“Well, at least you’re still in fairly decent spirits,” Grace commented. “Now don’t take out your doubts about this whole thing on Ian’s son. What’s his name again?”

“Cody.”

“Nice.”

“If you like that sort of man-of-the-prairie thing. Okay, so here’s the escalator to baggage. Descending now into the bowels of O’Hare. Looking around, not sure what for. What do you think a Cody looks like?”

“What does his father look like?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure. Oh, my stars!” Bethany almost dropped the phone as she spotted the man holding a hand-lettered sign with a floral border and her name on it.

“Bethany? What happened? Bethany?”

“I’ll call you back,” Bethany whispered, not sure why she found that necessary since practically everyone surrounding her was jabbering away on their cell phones and oblivious to her and the incredibly gorgeous man holding the sign and grinning up at her.



Cody studied the women coming down the escalator, dismissing them one by one until he spotted the redhead attached to the cell phone and shouldering one large bag in addition to guiding a suitcase on wheels that must have just barely passed the size regulations for taking on the plane.

Erika had not oversold this one even if Cody had thought she might be more than a little partial. Bethany Taft was everything that Erika had promised and more. She had flaming red hair caught haphazardly in a topknot and set off by a pair of sunglasses at the ready should Chicago have a sudden burst of glaring sunlight at nine in the evening—as it was now. Her skin was lightly tanned rather than the alabaster white he might have expected given her coloring. Then there was the model’s body that showed off to perfection the short jacket over a gauzy blouse and full print skirt that skimmed her knees. She was taller than most of the other passengers even if he discounted the ridiculous wedges of cork she was standing on and passing off as shoes. Why, he wondered, did women, beautiful women, do that to their feet?

He moved closer to the escalator and held up the sign. He saw her see it and then him. In that instant she snapped the phone closed and hoisted the bag more securely on her shoulder as she tightened her grip on the rolling suitcase and looked at him with a smile that was anything but genuine.

For an instant Cody was puzzled. Why wouldn’t she be glad to see him—to see anyone representing the end of her journey? Well, not exactly the end. He wondered if Erika had told her about the change in plans. Maybe so. Maybe that’s why she looked so…scared, he realized. She looked ready to bolt. That made no sense at all.

“Hi,” he said as the escalator track disappeared beneath her feet and she fell forward. “I sure hope that you’re Bethany Taft.” He grinned as he steadied her with one hand while reaching for the carry-on with the other. He took a split second to enjoy the fact that she smelled as if she’d just stepped out of a shower rather than off a crowded airplane.

He made sure she was balanced on her platforms and then relieved her of the bag on wheels. He made a gesture toward the shoulder bag, but she tightened her grip and he assumed this mammoth thing was actually her purse. “I’m Cody Dillard, Ian’s son.” He offered her his hand.

She returned the handshake in a very businesslike manner. “Bethany Taft,” she replied. “Nice sign,” she added as if realizing that perhaps something more cordial was needed.

“I’d like to say I made it myself but the fact is…” Cody had started walking toward the exit expecting her to follow, then realized she was not moving.

“Ready?” he asked, waving away a porter.

“I have to get my luggage,” she said.

What else could there be? Cody wondered but retraced his steps and took up the vigil with her and a hundred other passengers staring at the silent carousel and willing it to groan to life. It seemed as good a time as any to see if she knew of the change in plans.

“Did Erika call you?” he asked.

“I got the message—something about a change in plans. That she had to go somewhere with Ian and you would be here. Which you are. Thank you.”

The carousel rumbled and started to turn.

“So, you know that we have one more leg of the journey.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “The good news is that with the time difference, we’ll be there at a decent hour. The bad news is that for you it will seem like the middle of the night.”

She blinked, but said nothing. It was as if he’d suddenly started speaking in tongues. Finally she said, “The hour difference between D.C. and Chicago isn’t really a big deal.”

The crowd pressed forward as the luggage started appearing. “Actually,” Cody said as he moved slightly to secure their position and protect Bethany from being jostled, “we’re flying on to the ranch.”

“What ranch?” she practically shouted, sounding borderline hysterical as she pointed to the biggest and most colorful suitcase Cody had ever seen.

The porter was still lingering nearby and he grinned at Cody when he saw the suitcase. Cody nodded and the porter went into action.

“There are two more,” Bethany informed him. “Same pattern.”

“Same size?” Cody asked and saw that it was exactly what the porter wanted to ask as well.

“Of course not,” Bethany said. “One larger. One smaller.” She pointed to the second piece as it trundled into view on the opposite side of the circle. “What ranch?” she asked again.

“The family ranch in Arizona,” Cody replied without looking at her as he directed the stacking of the luggage. “Just outside Phoenix,” he added and turned to find her gone.



“This is so not going to work,” Bethany said as soon as Grace picked up. This time Grace answered her in a near whisper and Bethany regretted waking her friend. Grace was of the early-to-bed type while Bethany was the opposite. Bethany could not count the number of times she had awakened her friend with some disaster. Still Grace had promised to be there and it wasn’t that late—even for Grace. “Sorry I woke you but—”

“No, it’s Jud. Poor darling is exhausted. He just fell asleep on the sofa,” Grace explained. “Let me get to the other phone.” She covered the receiver with her hand and spoke tenderly to her husband. His response was a grunt.

“Jud’s been working nonstop this week and he has an early meeting tomorrow,” Grace said in a normal voice when she picked up the other phone.

“Sorry,” Bethany said and meant it, but this was such a disaster and who else was she going to call? Grace was always so together. She would offer wise counsel and advice.

“You cannot back out at this point, Bethany,” Grace said after hearing Bethany’s abbreviated summary of events so far. “I don’t care what the current situation might be. What’s the problem? Does the son have two heads?”

“No, one quite gorgeous one with a body to match.”

“Not that you noticed,” Grace said, stifling something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle but finally came off as a yawn.

“He’s taking me to Arizona,” Bethany said.

There was a pause on the other end that told Bethany that Grace fully understood the significance of this. “Arizona?”

“Arizona,” Bethany confirmed and knew there was no need to add the obvious. Arizona, where Nick died.

“Well, honey, it’s a big state.”

Bethany knew she was doomed. Any time Grace called her honey it meant she was at a loss to offer advice. “Not big enough. The ranch is near Phoenix, which puts it near the mountains, which puts it—”

“Got it.” Grace was quiet for a long moment.

Bethany saw Cody looking around for her while the porter waited patiently. “He’s spotted me,” she muttered. “What am I going to do?”

Grace took a deep breath. “You are going to go with him to the ranch and in the morning you can remind Erika why this setting is difficult for you. She’ll understand and make sure you’re on the first plane back to Chicago.”

“You mean D.C.,” Bethany corrected, not liking Grace’s solution but knowing it was the only choice.

“I mean Chicago. Surely you can handle everything from there, and the change of scenery will do you good.”

“Gotta go. My captor approacheth.” Bethany shut the phone and turned to face Cody.

“Thought I lost you there for a minute,” he said. She supposed that his smile made a defibrillator standard equipment for any woman within range of it. At least her heart was not in need of a jump start. It had died a year earlier.

“Let’s go,” she said in a tone that no one could mistake for enthusiasm. She waited for Cody and the porter to lead the way.

“I think we need to go up one flight if we’re going to recheck the luggage,” she said as they zigzagged through crowds of travelers and past the last escalator toward a long corridor that seemed to lead away from the main terminal.

The porter slowed and glanced at Cody. Cody spoke to both of them as he explained, “We have to drive across town. My plane is at Midway.”

His plane? Did he say his plane?




Chapter Two


While Cody and the porter solved the puzzle of how to fit Bethany’s mountain of luggage plus two people in the small sports car, Bethany walked around the parking structure hoping to find a decent signal on her cell and trying, without success, to reach her aunt Erika.

After all, she reasoned, this man calling himself Cody had offered no credentials—not that she had requested any. He could be anybody. He could have found the little sign and decided to see who would answer to his call. The fact that the license plate on the car read ID—as in Ian Dillard—meant nothing. The fact that a kidnapper wouldn’t have the patience to retrieve her luggage and work up a sweat loading same into said vehicle… Okay, so he was probably who he said he was.

Bethany hit the speed dial for Erika once again. An impersonal recorded voice told her that the number she had dialed was not available. She could leave her number or a message. Bethany hung up. What was she going to say?

She heard car doors slamming and the murmur of an exchange between Cody and the porter as Cody handed him several bills. The porter laughed at something Cody said then trundled his now-empty cart down the aisle to where she stood. “All set, miss. You have a nice trip now.” He tipped his hat and headed back toward the terminal.

Wait! She considered shouting, but knew there was nothing the poor man could do to help. She turned and saw Cody leaning against the car. He was wearing a cowboy hat, and she couldn’t help noticing that it looked terrific on him.

“Any time you’re ready,” he called.

Was that sarcasm?

Bethany snapped her useless phone shut and strode back to the car, feeling fully in control until she got within two feet of where he still lounged against the trunk. Then she hit something on the uneven pavement and her ankle gave way. For the second time that evening he reached out and caught her.

“You might want to rethink those shoes,” he said as he set her back on firm ground with no effort.

Bethany made no comment, but walked—admittedly with more caution and a slight limp—to the passenger side of the car. Problem. Her overlarge bag-slash-handbag already occupied the seat.

“’Fraid you’ll have to hold that or stuff it on the floor under your feet. We kind of ran out of room,” Cody said as he climbed in, turned the key and backed out of the spot using the side-view mirrors. “Okay over there?”

“Just dandy,” Bethany replied.

He stopped the car and glanced at her. “I’m asking about the car next to you. Are we clear on your side?”

“Would you like me to get out and direct you?”

“Nope. Just look out that window there and tell me if I’m going to miss the guy’s rear bumper.”

When he stopped to pay the parking tab, she took the opportunity to study him again. She couldn’t help noticing how he had the bored teller laughing and jabbering away with just a smile and a compliment.

“I like what you’ve done with your nails,” he said as he handed her the money.

Bethany caught a glimpse of fingernails that were at least two inches long and painted in great detail.

“Let me see the full effect,” Cody said.

The teller punched in the time on his card and then spread both hands for him to see.

“That’s really something. Did you see this?”

This last was directed at Bethany so she leaned in for a closer look. “Amazing,” she said politely as the teller revealed the silhouette of the Chicago skyline under a full moon spread across her two hands.

“You did that yourself?” Cody asked as the woman took his money and made change.

“My son,” she replied. “He’s a tagger—got himself in trouble a couple of times so I told him, if you’re gonna paint, then make it useful.”

“He’s got talent,” Cody said as he accepted the change.

The woman smiled and leaned out the window of the booth so she could include Bethany in the conversation. “You folks have a lovely night now.”

Cody pulled the car forward and the gate opened. Bethany stared at him. Was this guy for real?

He maneuvered the car through heavy traffic and a maze of highway on and off ramps that made the complex street design of Washington seem almost simple. He made polite small talk about the flight, her family and living in the nation’s capital. She was equally polite, if succinct, in her answers. She was still trying to digest the change in plans.

“How long are you planning on staying?” he asked after conversation between them had died.

Taking this as a comment on the amount of luggage she’d brought, Bethany bristled. It wasn’t like her to take everything so personally but she was tired and this business of going to a ranch in Arizona when she’d prepped herself for life in Chicago was unsettling. Bethany did not deal well with change these days.

“I believe the wedding is to be set for spring. As soon as my aunt and your father are safely on their way to their honeymoon destination, I’ll be on a plane back to D.C.”

“To do what?”

Okay, it was an innocent question but it chafed because the truth was that she had no idea. In the year since Nick’s death she’d been adrift, and the life she’d imagined living at this time was no longer available to her. And the truth was that she was not about to say any of this to a complete stranger. So she changed the subject.

“And what do you do?”

“I run the ranch.”

“What about your father’s business—I mean, what’s your role in that?” she asked.

“It’s my father’s business. My business is managing the ranch.” There was no hint of irritation in his comment. He was just offering information as requested.

Bethany’s cell phone rang and she pounced on it as if it were a life preserver cast her way in the nick of time. When she saw that it was her aunt Erika’s number she answered immediately.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. Did Cody find you?”

“He did,” Bethany replied as she glanced at Cody and mouthed, “It’s Erika.”

Cody grinned. “Hey there, cowgirl,” he shouted.

Erika giggled. “He’s such a tease. Are you two getting acquainted?”

“More or less.”

“Well, don’t let him feed you anything—not that he would. He and Ian are single-minded when it comes to getting from point A to point B. Absolutely no stops unless you can prove a medical emergency.”

“I ate on the plane.”

“Peanuts or pretzels?”

Bethany smiled. “Pretzels,” she admitted.

“Oh, Bethie, I cannot tell you what it means to me that you’ve come to manage this whole affair. I mean, I’m in a complete panic. Ian thinks it will be a cakewalk but what do men know? Are you at Midway yet?”

“Not quite.”

“Well, tell that handsome cowboy next to you to step on it. We have a wedding to plan—not to mention at least half a dozen prewedding events. You’re going to adore the ranch, dear. It will set your creative juices on fire with ideas.”

“About the ranch—”

Erika laughed. “Not to worry, Bethany. Crackle…all the amenities…crackle…indoor plumbing and…crackle…breaking up…” The line went dead.

Bethany looked up and saw the signs for Midway airport. Cody took a side exit and drove directly up to a large hangar where a small jet waited.

In a flurry of activity, several men rushed around transferring the luggage from the car, driving the car away and ushering Bethany onto the plane. The man in charge assured her that they were cleared for takeoff and, once they left Chicago, the weather was crystal clear all the way.

“Where shall I sit?” Bethany asked, glancing around the small interior.

“Might as well sit up front,” the man replied. “That way Cody can point out the sights.”

“He flies the plane?”

“It’s his plane,” the man said as if that were an answer. He helped her climb into the incredibly close quarters of the cockpit. “You might want to take off your shoes—it’ll give you more legroom.”

“I’m fine,” she replied tightly. What was it with these people and her shoes?

The man nodded, handed her a headset and exited the plane. She watched as he conferred with Cody for several minutes, then took his leave—laughing, of course, at something the ever-cheerful Cody had said.

“Let’s rock and roll,” Cody said as he wedged his lanky frame into the pilot’s seat and fired the small jet to life.

“You’ve been doing this for a while?” Bethany shouted over the roar.

“Maiden voyage,” Cody replied deadpan and then he grinned at her stunned expression. “Relax. I’ve done over a thousand hours.”

“In English, please.”

“I’m an experienced pilot,” he replied and taxied slowly toward the runway.

As they climbed smoothly above the earth, Bethany could not help but be impressed by the view below. Cody pointed out landmarks and Bethany relaxed as she enjoyed this bird’s-eye view of the city. Maybe she could have a future in Chicago. The ranch was just temporary. Chicago was where Erika and Ian lived, where they had their life. She could deal with the ranch for a day or two, she decided and, as they left Chicago behind, she leaned her head against the window and fell sound asleep.



Cody had never met anyone as wired as Bethany Taft appeared to be. Anxiety and stress fairly oozed from her. It was as if she were fearful and certain at the same time that she would be blindsided by some unforeseen circumstance.

Not that he didn’t understand that—he’d had a sense of subliminal panic ever since the day he’d gotten the call about his brother’s accident. He couldn’t help but wonder what might cause that look for Bethany. He’d first noticed it when he’d mentioned the ranch. Further evidence could be found in the way she tried to control everything and everyone. He’d done that in the first months after Ty died until he realized that all it did was feed his panic. What if he made the wrong decision, the wrong choice, as he had the day Ty died?

He forced himself to silence his inner voice and concentrate on Bethany. He could see the glint of her cell phone, still clutched in one hand. The thing was like an extra arm or ear or something. Personally he’d never been able to understand the constant need to be in touch with the outside world. What kind of person needed that? He preferred those times when he wasn’t in touch with anything or anyone.

He hoped Erika knew what she was doing, asking this high maintenance, overreactive woman to take charge of the wedding. His father was anything but a snob. Still, there were certain expectations. Add to that the fact that Erika was nervous but also determined to make this the wedding of the decade in terms of surprises and memory-making events. Cody wasn’t at all sure the redhead was up to the job.

On the drive between airports, he had made some attempt to get better acquainted. But her answers had been pretty monosyllabic and she had repeatedly allowed the conversation to die. Okay, so she’d had a long day. Okay, so traveling on to Arizona had not exactly been on her radar. But she was maybe thirty, in great shape—except for her penchant for foot-destroying shoes—and should not be so thrown by a simple change in plans. And where was her joy for her aunt and the fun of planning a wedding for this woman who clearly adored her?

With each thought, Cody’s grip on the wheel tightened until the plane made a slight lurch, alerting him to what he was doing and waking his passenger.

“What?” she said, her eyes wide with fright as she peered out into the blackness of the night.

“Sorry about that.” He raised his voice above the constant drone of the engine. “We’re about twenty minutes out from Phoenix.”

She nodded and flipped open her phone. He reached over and flipped it closed. “Might interfere with communications from the tower,” he explained.

“I might have a message,” she explained.

“It’s waited this long,” he replied and left the rest unsaid.

She stuffed the phone into the pocket of her jacket. She glanced around the cockpit as if looking for something to do. She drummed her manicured nails on her knee then reached for her seat belt. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she announced.

Cody let go of the controls as he reached over to refasten her seat belt. “It’s waited this long,” he repeated with a grin and took some pleasure in realizing that up here, he was in charge, not Little Miss Cell Phone.

She squirmed in the seat.

“We’ll be on the ground in another twenty minutes,” he assured her and slowly turned the plane away from the lights of Phoenix toward the mountains.

“You’re going to circle?”

“Nope. I’m going to land this puppy.”

She glanced around wildly, twisting around to see the last of the lights and then leaning forward as a solid mass of mountains loomed larger and closer.

“Where?” she muttered and he read her lips.

He tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to a faint string of lighting at the base of the mountains. She looked at him wild-eyed as she clasped her hand over her mouth. For one terrible moment, he thought she might throw up.

“Bethany? Are you okay?”

She kept her fist jammed against her lips and stared straight ahead. As he banked the plane for the turn away from the mountains in preparation for his approach to the landing strip, she actually closed her eyes and planted her feet. It was clear that she thought they were about to crash. Cody was insulted. He straightened the plane’s course and started the descent to the landing strip below, then tapped her on the shoulder and indicated the view of the ground rushing up to meet the landing gear.

He could see Erika and his father standing next to the golf cart used for moving between buildings on the large ranch. How would they fit all the baggage and three people on one little cart? But he was relieved to see them. It meant that he was free of hosting duties for the evening. He taxied to the hangar, cut the engine and in the sudden silence reached over and unsnapped her seat belt.

“Bathroom is just inside the front door of the house—if it’s not too late.”

“You scared me,” she protested as he climbed out of his seat and prepared to open the exit door. Her tone left no doubt that she thought he had done it deliberately.

“Ma’am, I was just flying the plane. You’re the one who decided to panic for no good reason.” He shoved the door open releasing the short flight of stairs and did not wait for her to go first.



Bethany took a moment to digest the fact that this cowboy son of her aunt’s fiancé had just left her to crawl out of the cockpit on her own. Any gentleman would have helped her out—she was practically family, after all. Exactly who did he think she was? Some hired help brought in to manage the wedding?

“Bethany, dear.”

Erika stood at the door of the aircraft, smiling uncertainly. “Is everything all right? Oh, I told Ian we should let you take a commercial flight tomorrow but he wouldn’t hear of it. Waste of money, he said, since Cody was coming back anyway.”

Bethany climbed out of the cockpit and bent to keep from hitting her head as she followed her aunt out of the plane. “I’m fine,” she assured Erika, then mustered her last ounce of enthusiasm and gushed, “Chicago—now Phoenix—what an adventure.”

Erika grinned with obvious relief. “It’s called my life these days,” she said happily. “Come meet Ian.”

Ian was not as tall or hard-muscled as his son but he was every bit as handsome. They had the same eyes and the same smile—or at least she thought she recalled that smile from when she had first seen Cody holding that ridiculous sign. His smile and cheery outlook had definitely wavered as the evening went on. And was she being overly sensitive or had the man implied that this was somehow her fault?

“So this is Bethany,” Ian said as he held out his arms inviting a hug. “You know, I’ve been telling Erika that it’s time I met her family since she’s already passed muster with all of mine. Welcome to Daybreak Ranch, Bethany.”

Bethany smiled and accepted the hug.

“Where did Cody go?” Erika wondered as the three of them headed for the golf cart.

“He’s making arrangements to get Bethany’s luggage unloaded and delivered,” Ian explained. “I hope he didn’t give you too much of a joyride in that bucket of bolts of his,” he continued to Bethany. “I’ve tried to get that boy to trade up but he loves that old piece of junk.”

Oh, that was heartening, Bethany thought, glad all over again to be back on firm ground.

“Our Bethany is quite the little daredevil herself, Ian,” Erika said as she wrapped one arm around her niece. “Remember, Bethie, that time that your brothers dared you to walk that fence at Grandpa’s?”

Bethany grinned. “It was a wire fence with overhanging tree branches I could hold on to,” she explained to Ian.

“She made it from one end to the other and then dared them to follow. Neither one of them would do it.”

Ian laughed. “Well, little lady, I can see that you are going to fit into ranch life just fine.”

Erika rolled her eyes. “Pay no attention to Ian, dear. Whenever we come to the ranch he turns into Clint Eastwood. Anyone who has done business with him in Chicago is a little taken aback to say the least.”

“Secret of my success,” Ian said as he winked at Bethany, who found that away from the presence of Cody Dillard, she was feeling much more relaxed.

“Home sweet home,” Ian announced as he pulled the golf cart to a stop in front of a rambling and deceptively massive house of glass, stone and adobe. Golden light spilled through windows that soared to a point three stories above the ground. A large, wide porch furnished with leather rockers and natural wicker tables and chairs wrapped itself around two sides of the house. The stained-glass panels of the front door reflected the light from within in a beautiful tableau of abstract desert flowers.

“Wow,” Bethany whispered in awe as Ian held out his hand first to Erika and then her to assist them off the golf cart.

“Wow indeed,” Erika agreed. “It was designed by an associate of Frank Lloyd Wright’s. The first time I saw this place I set my cap for this man. He could have been from outer space for all I cared as long as he let me live in this beautiful desert palace.”

“Ah, sweetie, you do say the nicest things sometimes,” Ian replied and kissed her cheek.

Then he wrapped one arm around Erika and the other around Bethany and led the way up the wide stone stairs past columns sculpted to look like gigantic saguaro cacti. The front door should have been hanging in the National Gallery of Art as far as Bethany was concerned.

“Hi, Honey, we’re home,” Ian boomed as soon as they entered the house.

A short, heavyset woman of indeterminate age but with flawless skin, shining black hair pulled into a ponytail and a beaming smile hurried forward. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Hello,” she said to Bethany. “I’m Honey Jorgenson. Welcome.” She looked up at Bethany and frowned slightly. “Are you all right?”

Bethany had the oddest feeling that Honey had looked into her eyes and seen past everything she might do to disguise anything she was feeling. She blinked and forced a smile. “Fine,” she said. “A little travel worn is all.”

“Ah!” Honey snapped her fingers. “Powder room—” she pointed, indicating a small alcove off the foyer “—and then something to eat.”

“Lovely,” Erika said. “Honey makes the most incredible quesadillas, Bethany. I hope you like your food spicy.”

“I love spicy,” Bethany assured them all.



The supper was perfect. Honey served them in a small family dining room with stucco walls faux finished in shades of bright yellows and oranges. The table was set informally with multicolored striped place mats, bright Fiesta ware dishes and a centerpiece of red, yellow and orange gerbera daisies. In spite of her fatigue, Bethany couldn’t help making mental notes as ideas for party themes and decor came to mind. She could bring the colors and atmosphere of Arizona to Chicago.

Erika and Ian were clearly devoted to one another. This was no one-sided or even slightly lopsided romance. She had never seen her aunt happier and even though she had just met Ian, it appeared that he was operating in a similar state of bliss.

“So, what are your plans?” she asked after Honey had brought them large ceramic mugs of herbal tea and a platter of fruit.

“I’m afraid that all we have are dates and a start on the guest lists, dear,” Erika said with a smile at Ian.

“Those would be long guest lists,” he added fondly. “I think we may have to marry every year for the next ten or twenty in order to fit in everything Erika wants to do so our friends and family can share our joy.” Then he squeezed her fingers and added, “Which would be fine with me.”

“Well perhaps we could start with this year,” Bethany suggested with a grin. “How many parties leading up to the big day?”

“Well, there’s the engagement party in Chicago, for family and associates and friends there,” Ian began.

“And the party for everyone here,” Erika added.

“Two engagement parties? It might be less expensive to—”

Ian held up Erika’s hand displaying a formidable emerald-and-diamond engagement ring. “Expense is not an issue, Bethany. If it becomes one, we can always hock this.”

Erika giggled and blushed like a twenty-year-old. “Ian,” she chastised. “Truly, Bethany, the parties can be fairly simple.”

Bethany nodded and stifled a yawn.

“Oh, Ian, we’re forgetting that it’s the middle of the night for this young lady. We’ll talk about this in the morning and let you get some rest, dear.”

“No, I…well, if you insist,” Bethany said with a smile. “I am a little tired.”

“Honey!” Ian boomed.

“Don’t shout,” Honey admonished him as she appeared instantly in the doorway.

To Bethany’s surprise, Erika, Ian and Honey walked with her to the front door. Erika promised to be along soon, but told her not to wait up. Ian kissed her on the cheek and wished her a good night while Honey waited by the open door. Not another change of venue, Bethany thought as she followed Honey out onto the porch.

“Hopefully all of your things have already been brought over to the guesthouse. If not, I can get you whatever you might need for tonight.” She walked with surprisingly long strides for such a short woman. Bethany had some trouble keeping pace.

“Are those things comfortable?” Honey asked, looking down at Bethany’s shoes.

Another comment on my shoes, Bethany thought wearily. “Yes,” she replied and could not keep the edge of defensiveness from her voice.

“I love shoes,” Honey said, sighing, “but I’m too chicken to try something like that. I’d probably topple right off them and look utterly stupid.”

“Actually I did topple off them tonight,” Bethany admitted, “and looked utterly stupid, but I am not about to give them up.”

Honey grinned. “Perhaps you and I can go shopping one day and you can help me find shoes and a little of your courage.”

They had traversed a long stone pathway and reached a smaller version of the larger house. Bethany had noticed it on the ride in from the landing strip but never dreamed it was a separate guesthouse.

“Erika thought you would be more comfortable here than in the main house,” Honey explained as she opened the door and led the way inside. “She hasn’t said anything but it seems to me, meeting you, that you have suffered recently. It’s in your eyes.”

“I…” Bethany felt tears well. How could this woman know? “It’s been a tough year,” she said and then turned her attention to her surroundings. “Oh, Honey, isn’t this wonderful?”

“It’s pretty special,” Honey agreed. “Erika’s room is there.” She motioned down a short hall off the kitchen as she moved about the spacious cottage, igniting the gas fireplace, pulling drapes closed and checking the refrigerator to be sure it was stocked with beverages and fruit.

“Your room is here,” she said and led the way to a large bedroom where she opened the closet to reveal all of Bethany’s clothes. “Good,” she murmured as she turned back the duvet on the large cypress-framed bed.

“Good? It’s incredible,” Bethany said. “Who did all this work?”

“I sent my daughter, Reba, over to check on the luggage while you were eating. She must have put everything away.” Honey smiled the smile of a proud mother and continued the tour.

“Bathroom is here,” Honey indicated as she flicked on the light and visually checked to be sure everything was in place, “and in the morning you can breakfast on the porch off the living room. Best view on the ranch.”

“It’s all wonderful. Thank you so much, Honey. And please thank your daughter for me.”

Honey grinned. “Get some rest. Erika has been on pins and needles waiting for you to arrive so the two of you can start planning parties. To hear her tell it, you are a master at this and frankly, we’re all excited to see what surprises you come up with for Ian and his lady.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bethany promised as she walked Honey back to the door and waved good-night.

Alone after a day of crowds and unexpected schedule changes, she let out a breath of utter exhaustion. The fire flickered and the oversize bed beckoned. Who would have thought a ranch could be so luxurious? She couldn’t wait to call Grace and tell her that maybe things were going to work out after all.

“After all, it’s a few days and then back to Chicago. I can handle that,” she announced as she showered and changed into the nightgown Honey’s daughter had left out for her. “I can handle anything for a few days.” And for the first time in months, Bethany fell asleep looking forward to what a new day might bring.




Chapter Three


Unfortunately, the new day brought with it more than one unexpected problem. The first being the “best view on the ranch.”

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Erika sang out gaily as she pulled open the drapes on the bedroom window, filling the room and Bethany’s bleary eyes with sunlight brighter than she had ever before experienced.

But it wasn’t the sunlight and Erika’s cheery greeting that brought Bethany crashing back to the reality of why she had dreaded the change in plans that brought her to Arizona. It was the sight outside the window.

A cloudless blue sky and bright sunlight undiffused by smog and pollution brought every detail of the view into sharp distinction. But the focus of that view was none other than a range of immense and—to Bethany’s eye—almost sinister mountains. They were closer than she might have imagined, had she considered it at all. She could actually see details—jagged cliffs and shadowy hollows that seemed to lead into nameless voids. Voids like the one just miles north of here where Nick had fallen and died. She stood staring out at the scene for a long moment, then ripped the drapes closed again.

“Too bright. Too early,” she explained when she turned and saw Erika’s puzzled look.

“Coffee,” Erika said. “That’s what you need.” She headed off to the kitchen and continued the conversation while Bethany dressed and made the bed.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Fine,” Bethany called as she mentally rehearsed the speech she knew she must deliver before this thing went any further. She dressed in jeans and a white cotton T-shirt enhanced with the turquoise necklace Erika had sent for her birthday.

“Out here, Bethie,” Erika called when Bethany headed for the kitchen. She followed the sound of her aunt’s voice out to a small screened porch.

The bistro table was set with woven placemats, contemporary free form plates and tall red-and-black mugs that coordinated with the placemats and the striped black-and-red cloth napkins. Erika looked up, a pitcher of what could only be fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand.

“You look wonderful, dear. I knew the necklace would be perfect.”

Bethany fingered the stones and smiled.

“Sit, sit,” Erika invited as she filled the mugs and then set a basket of pastries and a bowl of fruit on the table. “Not there. Here—where you can see the view.”

Bethany had deliberately taken the chair with its back to the mountains. “No, this is fine. I’m not used to the brightness. Too used to things being filtered through smog,” she added.

Erika’s expression sobered and she seemed to consider saying something and then rejected that idea. Instead she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and released it. “It is so wonderful to breathe truly fresh air, don’t you think? I mean you can practically feel yourself getting healthier, stronger.”

Actually, Bethany was thinking that absorbing the first cup of coffee intravenously might help clear her head. She was still fighting the unexpected twists of her journey and had not slept well, haunted by the usual dreams of Nick. She was going to need to be at her sharpest if she was going to find a kind way to tell her aunt that there was no way she could stay here.

“Auntie Erika,” she began as Erika filled their mugs. She ignored the food in favor of breathing in the aroma of the coffee.

“Uh-oh,” Erika said, helping herself to a sweet roll and a banana. “You never call me Auntie unless you want something.”

This was going to be a lot harder than Bethany had imagined. How self-centered was she that she couldn’t even let the woman have breakfast? She took a long swallow of the coffee and then smiled.

“I want you to tell me about this idea you have for not one but two engagement parties,” she said and reached for a cherry-filled muffin.

Three small muffins, a substantial bunch of grapes and two more cups of coffee later, Erika was still dictating a verbal list of events and details that would need Bethany’s expertise.

“Are you sure we can do all this in a few short months?”

“If anyone can, it’s you.” Erika glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, the morning is speeding by. It happens here—you’ll see. Now that I’ve given you plenty to think about regarding the party in Chicago, how about driving into town with me? I have a hair appointment and some shopping to do. Cody can show you the sights, or perhaps that ought to be s-i-t-e-s, since you’ll need to familiarize yourself with venues for the party here in Arizona. Cody can fill you in on the best caterers and florists and such. He knows absolutely everyone in the area and, of course, they adore him. Cody is the nicest man—well, next to his father, of course.” Erika reached across the round table and took the last bit of muffin from Bethany’s plate and popped it into her mouth.

A car horn tooted in the background. “That’ll be Cody. Go tell him I said to keep his boots on. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Bethany saw no way to refuse this request. When the horn sounded again, Erika laughed. “Never keep a cowboy waiting,” she advised. “Especially not those named Dillard.” She shooed Bethany toward the front door as she busied herself clearing the table.

The man was even better looking in broad daylight than he’d been the night before. He was standing next to an oversize pickup truck and was just reaching inside the cab to give another blast of the horn when Bethany opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. “She’s coming.”

Cody grinned. He folded his arms across his chest and tapped one booted toe. He was wearing jeans and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled back, revealing tanned and definitely sinewy forearms.

“Not good enough,” he said. “I was promised the pleasure of squiring two good-looking women today.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bethany replied and prepared to return to the house.

“Hey, Taft,” he called.

She glanced back at him.

“I brought you something.” He reached inside the cab and brought out a narrow-brimmed Stetson. He tossed it her way like a Frisbee with a flick of his wrist. The hat made a soft landing at her feet. “The desert sun can be brutal, and sunglasses aren’t always enough.”

Bethany bent and picked up the hat, surprised at its softness. “Thanks,” she said.

“Try it on,” he suggested, pushing himself away from the truck and making the short journey to the porch in less than half a dozen long strides.

She quickly perched the hat on her head. She had the oddest sensation that he might actually touch her and for reasons she could not fathom that was most unsettling. “It’s great. Thanks. I’ll get Erika,” she babbled.

He reached toward her and adjusted the hat to an angle. “There,” he said as he took half a step back to admire his handiwork. “Much better. I thought Erika said you knew something about fashion.” The grin mitigated any insult she might have heard.

“I do,” she replied with a sassy smile she hadn’t used in months. “For example, you might want to…how did you put it…rethink those boots.”

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to break in a decent pair of boots? These are just getting to the point of being ripe.”

“I’ll bet,” Bethany said, unable to stop herself from laughing at the potential for double meaning in terms of ripe.

“Erika!” he called. “Your niece is picking on me.”

Bethany could hear the rattle of china and a rush of water. Erika was just finishing the dishes.

“Some help I am,” Bethany said, rushing to dry the last plate.

“Nonsense,” Erika replied. “You’re our guest, isn’t she, Cody?”

Bethany wasn’t even aware that Cody had followed her inside.

“Yeah, we pretty much give you a free pass for the first day. Tomorrow now, you’ll be expected to be up at dawn and help with the chores.” This last was delivered in the same Western twang Ian had fallen into the night before.

No wonder Erika loves him, Bethany thought. Ian, she mentally corrected herself. “I’ll just get my sunglasses,” she said and hurried off to the bedroom.



Cody dropped Erika at the beauty salon and promised to return in two hours. “Two hours? It only takes me twenty minutes to get my hair done,” he teased.

“There’s more involved than hair,” Erika retorted and laughed when Cody held up his hands in surrender.

“I don’t want to know,” he said. “See you in two hours.”

On the ride into town Erika had insisted that Bethany sit in the middle. Erika wasn’t exactly being subtle in her attempts at matchmaking. Bethany couldn’t help but wonder if Cody had noticed. When Bethany had suggested that perhaps she should go to the salon with her aunt, Erika had declined.

“For what? You look as if you just stepped out of the pages of Vanity Fair.”

“We could talk some more about the wedding plans,” Bethany said and hoped the hint of hysteria that she heard in her voice wasn’t noticeable to Erika or Cody.

“Nope. Salon time is my time. You’re stuck with Cody, poor girl.”

After waving goodbye to Erika, Cody pulled back into the slow traffic. “Looks like you are indeed stuck with me,” he said, “but I applaud the effort you made to avoid that.”

“Not at all,” Bethany protested.

Cody glanced her way and lifted one eyebrow.

The man had a way of making her feel flustered and her response these days was to become more than a little defensive. “Well, don’t pretend like you were looking forward to spending your morning shepherding me around,” she said.

“No need to get snippy.”

“I am not getting �snippy’—I don’t even know what that means.”

Cody drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Look, the way I see it we have arrived at a point of having to figure out how to best fill two hours without annoying each other—something we seem to be getting good at doing. Then in two hours we need to be back here to meet Erika. It would be nice if we weren’t snapping at each other like a couple of ornery junkyard dogs.”

Bethany considered and rejected several retorts. The man had a point even if his choice for illustrating that point might have been more flattering. “Look, I expect you see as well as I do what Erika is trying to do,” she said.

“Erika is fabulous but subtlety is not her strong suit. She’s harmless, though, and you have to admit that romance is something near and dear to her heart right now.”

“Nevertheless, if you could just drop me at the nearest library or museum—whichever is closest—I can do some research.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do?” he asked as he pulled into traffic.

“That is entirely up to you. I’m sure you have better things to do than chauffeur me around. Besides, I’d really rather not feed into Erika’s fantasy any further.”

Cody observed her for a long moment—long enough for her to feel uncomfortable—and then he asked, “Have you always been this uptight, or are you just nervous about taking on this wedding thing?”

It wasn’t a reprimand or sarcasm. It was more like idle curiosity. But what really set her off was the way he seemed to assume that she had always been uptight. If she cared about his opinion for one second, she would have him know that never in her life had she been described as uptight.

“Have you always been this rude?” she shot back and forestalled the answer he started to give. “It’s a rhetorical question. And fascinating as this little point-counterpoint discussion may be I have work to do so please—”

Bethany grabbed for the dashboard to brace herself in spite of the fact she was wearing her seat belt as he pulled across three lanes of traffic and up to a curb. He reached across her and pushed open the passenger door. “Museum—right up those steps,” he said. “I’ll be back for you in ninety minutes. I’d appreciate it if you’d be out front here.”

As soon as she was out of the truck, Cody pulled away.

“Of all the insufferable, arrogant, obnoxious, over-bearing—” She was going to run out of adjectives before she reached the top of the steps so she started over.



Dinner was a stilted affair consisting of Honey’s usual delicious fare interspersed with nervous chatter initiated by Erika to fill the silences that Ian seemed not to notice. Cody refused dessert and excused himself, citing the need to attend to some evening chores. That was only partially true. The thing he didn’t say was that being around Bethany was—well, unsettling was the only word that came to mind.

After their first meeting at the airport and the flight back to the ranch, he had been certain that he had her number. In spite of Erika’s tales of a girl who kept the family laughing and a little off balance, the woman was pretty stereotypical for her age group and background. Pressed to describe her the evening before, he would have said she was into the latest trends and fashions, no doubt a slave to shopping, and a woman who hid any insecurities behind either her cell phone or a carefully maintained pose of superiority. In fact there were times when she reminded him far too much of his ex-girlfriend, Cynthia.

The truth was he hadn’t liked Bethany very much on that first meeting. No, the truth was that he’d been disappointed—not selfishly, but for Erika and her fantasy of who her beloved niece was as an adult. Still, after gratefully turning her over to Erika, he had had second thoughts. He kept going back to that look in her eyes. He’d noticed it again earlier on the drive back to the ranch. Her eyes revealed a mind racing along at warp speed, constantly aware of all around her. It was almost as if she expected something unpleasant, and did not trust finding out that there was nothing to worry about.

Curiosity and his innate empathy for the pain of others—even when he really couldn’t define that pain—made him reassess his initial reaction to Bethany. Early that morning after bringing her to the ranch, he’d been eating breakfast in the kitchen, keeping Honey company as was his habit, when he’d decided that perhaps Bethany deserved a second chance.

“What are you looking for?” Honey asked as he rummaged through the catchall closet near the back door.

“Nothing,” he replied at the same moment he spotted exactly the item he’d remembered being there.

“That was your mother’s,” Honey commented when he emerged with a lady’s straw Stetson. She said nothing more, but her eyes locked on his as she continued to knead bread.

“I know. I just thought that maybe—I mean Erika’s niece didn’t know she was coming here—I mean she probably didn’t think about—”

“She’ll need a hat,” Honey said as she snapped open a damp tea towel and spread it over the bowl of dough.

“You think it’s okay then? I mean, I could pick one up when we go to town.”

“It’s already over eighty degrees out there,” Honey observed. “By the time you get to town…” She finished that observation with a shrug.

“Right,” Cody said more to himself than to Honey.

So the hat had been a peace offering, a way of starting over for both of them without stating the obvious, that they’d gotten off on the wrong foot. And it had worked—better than he might have imagined. Maybe Bethany had had some second thoughts, as well.

Either way, the trip into town had started off well. Wedding chatter between the two women, with Cody occasionally managing to get in a word or two, made it easy. But once they’d dropped Erika at the salon, things changed dramatically. The thing that annoyed him most was the way Bethany needed to control everything. To Cody that was a clear indication of someone seriously lacking in confidence.

So how was someone like that going to handle several major social events plus a high society wedding? How was she going to bring to the table all the tact and diplomacy that would be required? His dad didn’t need any hassles, and Erika deserved the wedding she’d been dreaming of all her life. In his eyes, Bethany Taft was not the person to carry that off.

After they’d picked Erika up from the salon and headed back to the ranch, Bethany had become subdued, even withdrawn. Her conversation had consisted of polite responses to Erika’s comments. As they got closer to the ranch, she fell completely silent, staring out the window. He’d also noticed the way she fingered the turquoise beads on her necklace, almost as if they were some sort of worry beads or rosary. She’d had that same tension the night before as he’d maneuvered to land the plane.

“You okay?” he’d asked when they reached the outlying gate proclaiming the entrance to Daybreak Ranch and Erika had gone to open it.

The smile had been as phony as it was the evening before. “Fine.”

At dinner, she seemed to be working overtime at playing the fascinated guest. She was quick. Cody would grant her that. She had apparently realized that the house was Ian’s pet subject and soon had him giving her the entire story behind Frank Lloyd Wright’s deconstruction-of-the-box approach to architecture.

“See,” Ian said with a sweep of his arm to include the sloped ceiling of the dining room that led the observer’s eye straight to the low glass walls surrounding them. “There are no corners—mitered glass makes corners disappear and the low placement of the windows brings the courtyard in. The outside becomes part of the space and the stone cantilevers not only form the mantel for the fireplace but give the building support without being obvious.”

“Brilliant,” Bethany agreed, then looked slightly panicked as she realized that the topic of the design of the house had probably gone as far as she could take it.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Cody had interjected, “I have some unfinished chores.”

His father frowned but said nothing. Erika was clearly surprised but, as usual, found a way to make it all seem like just what she had planned. “Of course, Cody. I’m sure Ian has calls to make and Bethany and I still have tons to discuss and plan.”

Bethany said nothing.

Outside Cody sought the refuge of the barn where the prized Thoroughbred racehorses the ranch was known for breeding were housed. He picked up a grooming brush from the pristine storage area beneath the display of trophies and ribbons and moved down the row of stalls. He stopped at the next to last stall and patted the high solid rump of Blackhawk, a black Arabian stallion.

Blackhawk snorted a greeting and stamped one back hoof. He stepped to one side as if making room for Cody in the narrow stall. Cody began the rhythmic grooming routine, ignoring the fact that not a hair was out of place on the massive animal. Blackhawk let out a breath that warmed the cramped space, then shifted restlessly.

“Easy, big guy,” Cody murmured, stroking the horse’s neck. “Just stopped by for a little company. We’ll ride tomorrow.”

He considered his father’s suggestion that he take Bethany for a tour of the ranch. Ian rarely asked him for anything. Ever since Ty and their mother had died, it was as if Ian was constantly afraid that he might lose Cody, too. In the old days he and Ian had enjoyed debating each other on controversial topics such as religion and politics. No more. These days Ian would occasionally let slip a look of disapproval as he had at the dinner table when Cody rose to leave, but he would say nothing.

Sometimes Cody wanted to shout at his father. “I don’t have cancer and Ty didn’t die of a heart attack or because you said the wrong thing to him. He died because he got buried in snow and couldn’t dig his way out. He died because I wasn’t there to dig him out.”

But this last was never uttered—not to his father, not to anyone he knew, not even to God. It was just there, deep inside, the drumbeat that accompanied him everywhere he went.

He forced his thoughts back to Bethany. If he did take her out to show her the ranch, then maybe the best idea would be using one of the ranch’s off-road vehicles.

“I can’t imagine she rides,” he mumbled.

Blackhawk snorted.

Cody stroked the horse’s mane. “There’s something about the ranch that seems to set her off.”

Having said it, Cody realized it was true. For somebody like her, all city sophistication and highbrow clothes, maybe the setting was just a little too rustic. Some women were like that. Cynthia had only pretended she loved everything that he did about the place. The majesty of the setting. The peace and quiet. The distance from the woes and tribulations of life in the city. The sense of being a part of God’s world rather than trying to fit God into the human world.

No, Bethany didn’t strike him as a nature lover. She’d thought she was packing for Chicago with all its theaters, art galleries and shops. Now that he thought about it, she had really seemed to come alive the closer they got to Phoenix. It was on the way back that she’d gone silent with every mile they traveled across the desert and into the foothills, leaving civilization in the dust.

Blackhawk shifted and gave an indignant whinny as if reading his thoughts.

“You think maybe we could change her mind, Hawk?”

The horse flung his massive head from side to side. Cody laughed. “Yeah, go ahead and pretend you understand what I’m thinking. I’m not buying it.”

“Do you always talk to the horses?”

Cody dropped the brush as Blackhawk repositioned himself for a view of the intruder. Bethany took an involuntary step back.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Cody said, retrieving the brush and moving out of the stall to stand next to her.

She pointed to Blackhawk. “Is that your horse?”

Cody nodded, trying to gauge her mood. “Do you ride?”

She smiled. “I have ridden—as a little girl. My uncle had a farm in Virginia. But it was a pony. Nothing like this guy.”

“Horses come in other sizes,” Cody said. “In fact,” he continued, “I was thinking we might go for a ride tomorrow.” No, you were thinking about NOT going for a ride.

“Really?” In the shadows cast by the low work lighting it was hard to read her expression, but her voice registered doubt.

“Sure. You’ve only seen about one-hundredth of the ranch. I could give you the grand tour.” In for a penny, in for a dollar, as Mom used to say.

She looked up and down the row of stalls. “I’d need a horse that’s gentle and slow and—”

“Leave it to me,” Cody interrupted and realized he was excited about the prospect of showing off the place he loved. Maybe she’d like it once she saw it through his eyes. “Seven o’clock?”

“In the morning?”

“Best time,” he assured her. “Before the sun gets too hot.”

She sighed. “Okay, but you’d better have a thermos of hot, strong coffee in your saddlebags, cowboy.”

Cody laughed and walked with her out of the barn. They strolled toward the guesthouse in silence.

“Did you come out to the barn for a reason?” he asked as they passed the main house and waved to Honey through the kitchen window.

“I wanted to apologize and thank you.”

“For what—on both counts?”

“It was very generous of you to give up your day for me.”

“We aim to please, ma’am,” Cody said in his best Western drawl. “And the apology?”

They walked for several steps before she replied. “Look, it’s not something I want to go into, but sometimes I’m—that is, I can be a little—”

“Unapproachable?” As soon as the word was out of his mouth he wanted it back.

“I am not unapproachable,” she argued. “I may not be the constant life of the party—if that’s what you’re looking for—but I have always been open and—”

Cody held up his hands in self-defense. “That came out all wrong. Now I’m the one who’s apologizing. It’s just that at the airport and then again today, you seemed…” He mentally ran through a list of possible adjectives and rejected them all.

“Well, I’m not,” she said firmly as if he had delivered the list. They had reached the guesthouse and she marched straight to the door.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is that if this is a bad time for you, Erika and Dad would understand,” Cody explained, losing some of his own patience at the way she seemed always on the defensive. “There are at least half a dozen professional wedding planners in Phoenix and a gazillion in Chicago that they could hire.”

She wheeled around on him and in the light from the multiple windows surrounding the entrance, he could see fire in her eyes. “I am a professional,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Of course. I mean, that’s not what—”

The door to the guesthouse slammed, leaving him alone on the stone porch.

“Does this mean we are still riding tomorrow?” he called through the closed door, knowing she was still there since she hadn’t moved past any of the windows yet.

No answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Seven with gentle steed and coffee as ordered, okay?”

Silence.

“Okay. Seven-thirty but that’s my final offer.”

The lights inside went out.




Chapter Four


Bethany waited in the dark until the sound of his boots crunching the gravel on the path assured her that Cody had left. She was still smarting from the remark he’d made about Erika finding another wedding planner—a professional wedding planner. What did he think she was?

Okay so the emphasis on the word had been hers, but why include it at all unless he was making a comparison? Cody Dillard might fool some people with his aw-shucks, ma’am charm, but she wasn’t buying it. He had been raised with the best that money could buy and when it came to choosing goods and services, she was sure that he preferred name brands. Admittedly, in the world of event planners, she wasn’t exactly a household word.

Well, she would show him. She wasn’t some ditz whose only reason for working was to earn more money to spend on clothes and hand-beaded purses. He’d obviously based his opinion of her on false—well, maybe not completely false—information. But there was more to Bethany Taft than he knew and bright and early tomorrow he was going to meet the professional businesswoman.

She was so wrapped up in jotting notes and ideas for Erika’s wedding and planning her strategy for her next encounter with Cody that it was well after midnight when she finally fell into bed. And it was dawn before she realized that she had failed to close the drapes that shut out the range of mountains framed in the wall of glass.

But she could hardly ignore the red-orange glow that woke her the following morning. She was anything but a morning person, and yet Bethany sat up and watched in fascination. The arc of the sun’s orb seemed to ascend the dark side of the mountain range until it had conquered the mountain and moved on to chase shadows from the desert landscape, backlighting giant saguaro cacti in the process. She was intrigued by the way the silhouettes of the cacti resembled people waving or gesturing as if in conversation with each other. It gave her a new idea for the party invitations.

When Cody arrived on Blackhawk at seven-thirty, he was leading a second horse. Bethany took special delight in his surprise at seeing her sitting on the porch of the guesthouse dressed and waiting for him. She flung the last of her coffee over the railing and set the mug on a side table as she pulled on leather gloves and the hat he’d given her.

“Good morning,” she called with just the right amount of cheer and professionalism. She glanced at the extra horse—a small palomino that side-danced impatiently as Cody swung down from Blackhawk still holding the reins. “And this is?” Bethany asked, approaching the horse that up close seemed far too high off the ground to be successfully mounted.

“Thunderbolt,” Cody replied, handing her the reins. The shadow cast by his Stetson made it impossible to tell if he was smiling, but Bethany was certain that he was.

Gingerly she patted the horse’s neck. “Well, Mr. Thunderbolt, we have a lot of ground to cover this morning. Are you ready?”

Thunderbolt snorted and tossed his head, then stood perfectly still as if inviting her to mount.

“That’s my boy,” she said as she reached for the horn of the saddle and prepared to put one foot in the stirrup. Problem was the stirrup was about six inches higher than she could gracefully manage.

“Here,” Cody said, offering a bridge of his hands for her to step into.

“Thank you,” she said as she gave him her sunniest smile and accepted his help. This time his face was fully exposed as he looked up at her mounted on the horse. She took some pleasure in the confusion that was mirrored in his eyes. Whatever attitude he had prepared to deal with this morning, this one clearly wasn’t it.

“We aim to please here at the Daybreak Ranch,” he muttered as he returned to Blackhawk and fumbled with the closing on his saddlebag. He pulled out a red aluminum travel mug and held it up. “I believe you ordered coffee—strong and hot.”

The last thing she needed was more coffee, but this was business and she had requested it. “Wonderful,” she said, leaning down to accept the closed mug. She flicked the lid open and took a sip. “Just right,” she assured him as she closed the opening and tried to figure out where to put the thing.

“Here,” he said, handing her a portable cup holder. “Hook this over your saddle horn.”

She saw that the holder had been specially constructed for just that purpose. “That’s really cool,” she said and meant it as she placed the mug in the holder.

Cody mounted Blackhawk and took a swallow from the mug she hadn’t noticed on his saddle. “Ready for the grand tour?”

Thunderbolt pawed the ground restlessly. Bethany hoped the steed did not intend to prove his name was accurate. “Ready,” she replied and tried to hide her nervousness behind a sunny smile. She produced a small notepad and pen from her jacket pocket and held them up for him to see. “I hope you don’t mind if I make notes, ideas that might come to mind for the wedding events.”

Cody nodded and tapped Blackhawk’s flanks with his boot heels. Blackhawk headed around the house and Thunderbolt followed. Thunderbolt’s sudden movement made Bethany’s pen fly out of her hand as she fought to find a rhythm that would not have her rising several inches in the air and then slamming back onto the hard saddle with every step.

In minutes they had put some distance between themselves and the buildings of the ranch and climbed to the top of a small rise. Cody reined Blackhawk to a halt and turned the horse to face the view below. Thunderbolt followed suit. Bethany fought to calm her racing heart and find a position on the saddle that didn’t feel as if she were sitting on rocks.

“Bird’s-eye view,” Cody announced. “Down there is the hub of Daybreak—the house, guesthouse, stables, barn, paddock area, pastures, training corral. How about a rodeo?”

Was he serious? He certainly looked serious. “A rodeo?”

“For the engagement party here—could be a real hoot.”

“Interesting idea,” she said halfheartedly.

“Yeah. I can see it now—Erika could lasso Dad instead of a calf.”

“You cannot be serious,” she blurted.

Cody laughed long and hard. “Gotcha,” he said, pointing his finger at her.

“Very funny,” she said and even to her ears her voice sounded prim and petulant. She pretended an inordinate interest in her surroundings. “How far does your land go?”

“Far as you can see and then some.” He turned in his saddle and motioned toward the mountain range behind them—mountains that were closer now than they had been from the guesthouse. “Our property stops at the base of the mountains there.” He handed her a pair of binoculars for a closer look. “See that hollow over there just down from that first cliff? There’s a cabin there.”

She swallowed hard and peered through the binoculars, swinging them up and down and side to side until she saw the rustic cabin set into the curve of a solid granite fortress. “Very quaint,” she said, handing the glasses back to him.

“That was Dad’s first building here. When I was a kid we used to come here for family vacations and that was it. That little cabin at the base of the Superstitions.”

Bethany thought she must have misunderstood. “Superstitions?”

“The mountains—that’s the name of this range. Great, huh?”

“Perfect,” Bethany replied without enthusiasm.

“Arizona is full of unique names. That spot where the cabin sits? It’s called Bachelor’s Cove.”

“So is that where you live these days?”

Cody looked confused.

“Bachelor?” she prompted.

“Got it.”

“You’ve never married?” she asked, more comfortable now that she’d turned the conversation to focus on him.

“Nope. Never married.”

“You’re what—thirty?”

“Thirty-four.” His response was just to one side of testy. “I wasn’t aware that there was an age limit.”

She ignored his sarcasm and kept pushing. “You mean a wealthy good-looking guy like you has never even come close? The women must have been lined up at some point.”

“Close only counts in horseshoes,” he muttered and readjusted his hat before urging Blackhawk a few steps closer to the edge of the bluff.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/anna-schmidt/lasso-her-heart/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.



Если текст книги отсутствует, перейдите по ссылке

Возможные причины отсутствия книги:
1. Книга снята с продаж по просьбе правообладателя
2. Книга ещё не поступила в продажу и пока недоступна для чтения