Wild for the Girl Read online

  “Chaz Milbourne? What the hell . . . ?” Ice water trickled into his veins. “Dinner with him and his daughter?”

  His father leaned toward him, scowling. “Who the hell is this Caroline person, Reese, and damn it, why didn’t I know about her if she’s that damned important to you?”

  He frowned back. “Because she’s not that important to me.”

  “She’s not?” Michael Barringer sat back in his chair, his scowl disappearing as he regarded his son with a thoughtful look. “Well, now, that’s reassuring.”

  Reese felt suddenly off balance. “Why would that be reassuring? You don’t even know her.”

  “I know you, and I have eyes,” he said, as if that cleared up anything. “Maybe I misunderstood the invitation.”

  Reese clenched his jaw until it hurt. “No, I’m sure you didn’t.”

  “Well, I had the impression that this Milbourne character thinks you have long-term intentions toward his daughter.”

  “He does. And I don’t.”

  “So you said. Then why does he think so? Have you been leading her on? Look here, Reese. Maybe I only got to see you during the summers while you were growing up, but if you think it’s okay to lie to a woman in order to have your way with her—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, I didn’t lead her on or lie to her, Dad. I broke up with her. We were never even that close. But Caroline Milbourne gets everything she wants, and apparently she wants me. And since Daddy makes everything happen, she must have told him I wasn’t cooperating.”

  “Oh.” Michael’s mouth twitched with disgust. “Ol’ Chaz must be a big shot.”

  “CEO of an international bank. Lots of friends in high places, including my boss.”

  “Got you by the balls, eh?”

  “No.” Reese gave him a hard look. “He may think so, but he’s not running my life.”

  “Good man. Does this have something to do with the fact that he thinks I’m bedridden?”

  Reese winced. “I tried to keep you out of the picture.”

  “Wish you’d told me. Boy, I would have hammed it up. Now I have to have dinner with this guy.” He considered it. “Might be fun to pull his strings a little.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Son, the man has to learn he can’t manipulate the Barringers. This is a matter of pride and respect.”

  It was a matter of his job. A delicate approach might save it. “I’m going to dinner with you, Dad. I just need to make a phone call first.”

  “Fine.” Michael rose, shoved the crutches under his arms, and hobbled toward the door. “Meet us in the main dining room. And tell T.J. I said hi.”

  Reese’s eyebrows pulled into one long, suspicious line as he watched his father leave.

  * * *

  T.J. dropped the metal scoop in the grain barrel and gave the phone display a cautious look. Reese was supposed to show up, not call her. She had a bad feeling about this. “Hello?”

  “T.J.” She could already hear an apology in his voice and stiffened in anticipation. “I can’t make supper.”

  “Oh.” Oh, no. He was backing out.

  “It’s not because I don’t want to. I have to have supper with my dad.” He paused, as if considering whether he should say more. “And Caroline and her father.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the expected ache gripped her heart in a tight fist. Expected or not, it still hurt enough to knock the breath out of her. “I see.”

  “T.J., this isn’t about me and Caroline. Her father is trying to make this about my job. He needs to accept that it won’t happen between us, but I have to finesse it so he doesn’t hurt the company in the process.”

  How hard was it to say, It’s over? And since when did it require dinner with both parents? She might be a small-town country girl, but she wasn’t naive. “Whatever.”

  “T.J., I am not dating Caroline.” She could hear the worry in his voice, no doubt because his cozy little two-girlfriend scheme was falling apart.

  “I heard you.” She just didn’t believe it anymore.

  “They’re waiting for me, so I have to go, but I’ll give you the whole disgusting story later.”

  Disgusting—that was a good word for it. T.J. put a hand over the sore spot in her stomach, wondering why she suddenly felt sick. She should feel angry. Men who lied and cheated deserved her wrath, not the satisfaction of giving her a self-pitying stomachache. But oh, God, it hurt too much to find that fury, no matter how justified, and the churning pain was all she could feel.

  “T.J.?”

  “What?”

  “I will see you later. We need to talk.”

  Not if she could help it. “Bye.” She ended the call and let her knees crumple until she was sitting beside the grain bin, staring at the cement floor.

  It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, damn it. He was allowed to leave her, she’d always known he would. She’d been prepared for it. Sort of. But he’d lied, too, and that was unexpected. She should be furious. She should call him a lying, cheating son of a bitch and tell him she was glad he was leaving.

  She’d do that. Maybe tomorrow, as soon as she found that core of anger. But right now it hurt, a searing pain that brought tears to her eyes, because, damn it, damn it, damn it, she loved him. Despite her promise not to. Despite knowing she’d get hurt.

  She’d been right about that part. It hurt like hell.

  Well, she’d been hurt before. The one thing she wouldn’t do was sit here and take it, because the old axiom was true: if you fall off your horse, you get right back on.

  Sniffing back the hurt, she got to her feet. She’d fallen off her love life, hard, and she knew what she had to do to get back on it.

  * * *

  Reese shifted in his chair, wishing everyone would eat faster so he could get the hell out of here. His call to T.J. hadn’t done a thing to reassure him that she understood. He needed to see her, but he couldn’t be in two places at once, and he was afraid to leave his father alone with Chaz Milbourne.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t skiied the Rockies,” Michael said, forking up a large chunk of lettuce from his salad. “Best skiing in the country is right here in Barringer’s Pass. You should try it.”

  Chaz smiled indulgently. “I can’t blame you for promoting your town, Michael, but you’re talking to a dedicated sailor.”

  “You’re a navy man?”

  Chaz chuckled. “Hardly. My sailing’s a bit more refined. I have a fifty-eight-foot ketch and a racing sloop. In fact, Reese helped crew the sloop last year, and I’m hoping to recruit him again for the Labor Day regatta and race.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I won’t be there. Dad needs me here.”

  “Really?” Chaz said, giving Michael a meaningful glance. “Your father seems to be getting around quite well.”

  “I’m planning a relapse,” Michael said. Reese stared, prompting Michael to add serenely, “Of a sort. My doctor says I need another surgery on the leg, so I’m afraid I’ll be back in that hospital bed soon, for several more weeks.”

  Reese blinked at the outright lie, then gave Chaz a helpless shrug.

  Beside him, Caroline stroked his arm. “Perhaps I should stay awhile. I’m sure I could find a way to help.” She lowered her chin and raised her eyes to his, making it clear that her help would be after hours, in his bedroom.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Reese said.

  “Now, don’t be so quick to turn her down, son.” Reese whipped a dark glance at his dad, who didn’t seem to get the message. “Might be good for Caroline to spend some time here, get to know the place. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but according to Chaz here, you two are pretty serious about each other.”

  What the hell? “No, we’re not.”

  Michael avoided his furious expression, smiling at Caroline. “Reese will be working most of the time, but that just gives us a chance to get to know each other, doesn’t it? It’d be nice to know I’ll have someone to spend time with me i
n the hospital after surgery, and maybe help out once I’m home.”

  Caroline returned his smile sweetly. “I’m sure that would be nice, but I just remembered that I have a full social calendar I can’t bow out of. Don’t I, Daddy?”

  “That’s right, muffin.” Chaz turned to Michael. “Plus, Caroline holds quite a responsible position at the museum. I’m afraid a lot of people are counting on her.”

  Michael frowned with concern. “You raise a good point, there, Chaz. Caroline probably has obligations back east. Maybe she should go back and start to ease out of them. Don’t want to leave them high and dry when she moves.”

  Caroline lowered her fork. “Excuse me?”

  Reese’s shock gradually turned to appreciation as he caught on. He cleared his throat. “Dad, I told you I didn’t want to rush things,” he said.

  “Of course not,” Michael said and nodded. “And I wouldn’t butt in, but you have to think of Caroline. She has a lot of ties to Boston, and it’ll take some time to break them.”

  Caroline looked confused and a bit alarmed. “I’m not breaking any ties.”

  Michael gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh, dear. I think I’ve committed a social blunder. I’m sorry, Reese, I thought you’d already proposed to the girl.”

  Reese didn’t have any trouble looking uncomfortable, but he had to work hard at holding back a smile. He cleared his throat. “That conversation was supposed to be confidential, Dad.”

  “Well, cat’s out of the bag, isn’t it? Can’t close the barn door, and all that. And maybe it’s a good thing, because Caroline obviously needs some time to get her affairs in order before she can move.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Reese agreed.

  Caroline laid her fork down. “What are you talking about?”

  Chaz held up a hand, obviously meant to soothe his daughter. “I believe it’s a simple misunderstanding, muffin.” He gave Michael a patronizing smile. “Reese has a good position in Boston, Mike. In fact, I happen to know he’ll be getting a big promotion soon,” he said, throwing a quick wink at Reese. “You can be sure I’m looking out for him.”

  Mike? Reese couldn’t wait to hear the reaction to that.

  “Appreciate that, Chaz. I really do.” Michael’s smile was so smooth and sincere Reese could barely detect the sharp edge behind it. “But the Ridge is a family thing—you understand the importance of family, I can tell. Reese is my oldest, and this place is his heritage. Barringer’s Pass, and all that, you know? But don’t worry, a small Western town is a great place to raise kids. It’s an experience they can’t get back in Boston, that’s for sure. Why, Reese knew how to clean and dress a moose by the time he was ten. Bet you can’t say the same. Shot his first one at nine—I’ve still got the head mounted above my fireplace. He didn’t tell you about that?”

  Chaz and Caroline stared at Reese. He smiled modestly and wondered where in the hell his dad was going to find a moose head if good ol’ Chaz asked to see it. “I don’t like to brag, Dad.”

  Michael clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s okay, I don’t mind doing it for you, boy. And it’ll be great to have you back here again so we can go hunting together. Don’t you miss that?”

  “I do,” he agreed, wondering if the one time they’d gone trout fishing could pass as hunting. Probably not, since they hadn’t shot the one fish they’d caught.

  “Hey, do you like to cook, Caroline? We’ve got a great family recipe for moose stew. You’ll have to try it.”

  Reese thought moose stew was taking it a bit too far, but Caroline’s appalled look reassured him. Dad had things under control. He didn’t even need Reese here.

  “See here—” Chaz began, then stopped as Reese got to his feet.

  “Excuse me,” he said, looking intently at the blank screen on his phone. “I just got an important call I need to return.”

  Caroline frowned. “I didn’t hear a ring.”

  “I turned the volume down. You didn’t hear it over the noise.”

  “Problem, son?”

  He gave his dad a meaningful look. “A situation at the barn. Don’t worry, I have it under control.”

  “Good man.” He grinned at Chaz. “It’s been a relief to hand things over to Reese. I gotta tell you, I’m looking forward to having him here full-time. You, too, Caroline. Hey, I bet you’d be interested in seeing some of the abandoned silver mines around here. I know some that are pretty safe, if you bring flashlights and jackets and something to mark your way so you don’t get lost. You’d appreciate the history, seeing as how you work in a museum and all.”

  Reese didn’t hear Caroline’s response, striding out of the dining room as fast as he could without actually breaking into a jog.

  He paused in the lobby, realizing he didn’t know where he was going. Pulling his phone out, he dialed T.J. After several rings it shunted him to voice mail—she was ignoring him. “T.J., please call me,” he said into the phone before ending the call.

  Fine, he’d just have to track her down. If he couldn’t find her, he’d park in her driveway and wait for her to show up, which wouldn’t take long, with four horses depending on her for food and water. Turning to leave, he took one step and nearly ran over Tad’s assistant.

  “Beth! Sorry, are you all right? Excuse me, I’m in a hurry.” He tried to step around her, but she moved in front of him.

  “Mr. Barringer, wait. I, uh, I overheard you. Are you looking for T.J.?”

  He stopped, suddenly hopeful. “Yes. Do you know where she is?”

  “Well, uh, yes. But I’m not sure she’d want me to say.”

  He frowned at the girl. Was this a girlfriend thing? He hadn’t thought T.J. was fond enough of Tad’s assistant to confide in her, but she must know T.J. was angry with him. “I need to find her,” he told her, looking as earnest as he could. “It’s important.”

  Beth bit her lip, undecided. “He doesn’t like me telling people.”

  “He? Who, Tad? Is she with Tad?”

  “Yes, we ran into her earlier in the bar. I left, but I know they had a few drinks together, because Tad let me know when he left.”

  Drinks with Tad? It didn’t sound right, but his eyes went toward the archway that led to the resort’s bar at the far end of the lobby. “Where, here? Or in town?” T.J. had never seemed interested in drinking, but being angry or depressed might change that. He imagined T.J. was both. Anger made people do impulsive things they wouldn’t normally do, and giving in to an impulse seemed very much in character for T.J.

  “Um, yes, here,” Beth told him. As he started forward, she grabbed his sleeve. “Wait. They aren’t there anymore.”

  Reese frowned with annoyance. “Then where are they? And how do you know T.J.’s still with him?” Just the thought of her drinking with that fake Hollywood cowboy annoyed him beyond belief. She was far too tolerant of Tad’s persistent come-ons, treating them like a joke when Reese knew the guy was dead serious.

  “That’s what I can’t say,” Beth said, stalling.

  Enough. He laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder, making sure he had her full attention. “Beth, listen to me. I need to know where she is. Now.”

  Beth looked miserable. “She’s upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?”

  “In Tad’s room.” She watched him closely to make sure he got it. “With Tad.”

  13

  Reese let it sink in, trying to wrap his brain around the image he really didn’t want to see. She’d gone to Tad’s room. His luxury suite, where they had the same comfortable seating and well-stocked bar as down here, but more privacy. And a bed.

  Reese’s pulse was suddenly pounding through him, roaring in his ears. “Are you sure T.J. went with him?”

  The corners of Beth’s mouth pulled into a cynical smile. “Positive. It’s a common enough scenario for Tad, Mr. Barringer. I’m sorry to disappoint you, because it seems that you like T.J., but if you’re wondering if she went willingly, she did. Tad doesn’t have to force himself
on women. Plus, I saw the way she leaned against him when he put his arm around her.” She must have seen evidence of Reese’s rising temper, because she started talking faster. “I don’t recommend barging in on them, because they’ve been up there awhile and T.J. looked . . . well, not very shy, if you get my meaning.”

  He got her meaning. He’d been in T.J.’s bed, and knew how unselfconscious she was about her body, how uninhibited she could be when it came to making love. Something else he didn’t want to think about.

  The sense of urgency leeched out of him as he stood there, dazed. He’d known T.J. was more upset about Caroline than she let on, but he’d had no idea she’d go this far. Not speaking to him, he’d understand that. Or punching him, or keying his car—that was probably more like T.J., getting physical with her anger. But sleeping with Tad? That was beyond physical; it was stupid. She felt nothing for Tad, yet was willing to jump into his bed to get back at Reese.

  Well, it worked. Either she’d never felt anything for him in the first place, or she’d overreacted big time. If she could go off the deep end like that, over a misunderstanding, then he was better off without her.

  Having reasoned out his resentment, he let it soak in. Anger settled into every bone, every muscle, every pore. Anger, and disappointment because she wasn’t the person he’d thought she was. And because he’d been on the verge of believing he’d fallen in love. She’d become a part of him these past three weeks, so much so that he couldn’t remember what it was like to be without her. Now he knew, and the pain was crippling. In contrast, removing Caroline from his life made no difference at all, since she’d never really been a part of him.

  Caroline. He blinked, suddenly aware he was standing like a statue in the center of the lobby. Beth had left. Caroline, Chaz, and his father were waiting for him.

  He returned to the table, his appetite gone. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Caroline’s fawning and Chaz’s manipulation, but they seemed as subdued as he was. It hardly mattered; Michael carried the conversation cheerfully, looking happier than Reese had seen him in the six weeks since the accident that had shattered his leg. Reese barely heard what was said. He ate mechanically, the tender prime rib turning to rock in his stomach.