Not the blanket. Not even this ride. But, given the weather, she couldn’t argue.
“So—so why are you back?” she managed through clenched teeth, her muscles straining not to shake.
“Your father asked me.” He cranked the heat and headed back onto the road.
Confusion mixed with the dull pounding in her head. “Why would he do that? He just had a stroke.”
Blue eyes flicked her way, compassion deepening their color. “He told me about that and the ranch. I offered to help him save it.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope.” His mouth and jaw looked as firm as ever. Definitely not joking.
“So you just dropped your career and came? Can’t remember that being an option before.” She pressed her lips closed, mad that she’d let him get her tail up. His leaving her was water under the bridge. It didn’t matter anymore. Unless he found out about Jonathan...
“And you’re too late. The ranch is sold.” At least she’d be seeing Tanner’s taillights soon.
His swift, sidelong glance made her jump and peer out her window at the writhing darkness, rain twirling through the black.
“Your dad said the sale wasn’t final.”
“It practically is,” she insisted, infuriated at his unruffled expression. “He just needs to sign the papers.”
Tanner made a noncommittal sound that she barely heard over the thrumming engine.
“It’s going through,” she vowed, falling into the same rhythm their old arguments used to take. The calmer he got, the more irrational she sounded...and it drove her as crazy now as it had then. Men. Were they born with a straightjacket on their emotions? Or maybe it was just Tanner.
Tanner shrugged. “There’s still time.”
Her heart beat a strange rhythm, stopping then racing. “Why are you butting into my family’s business? Don’t you have bulls to ride, autographs to sign?” She shrugged off the blanket, steaming now.
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Tore my rotator cuff and got another concussion recently. I need a place to rehab until I’m cleared to ride again.”
She pushed down the sudden, unwelcome concern. He’d stopped being hers to worry about long ago. The wind kicked up and tossed a small branch at the windshield.
“We’re not a spa. You’re wasting your time. Worse, you’re wasting ours.”
In the split second his eyes flashed to hers, something shimmered and stretched inside, a dormant part of herself rattling its chains. There couldn’t be an atom of her that actually wanted him around, could there?
“Coming here makes sense,” he said obliquely, returning his gaze to the slick road. The windshield wipers swished ragged sheets of water back and forth, the purr of heat lulled her.
“None of this makes sense.” Despite everything, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. She had to keep Jonathan and Tanner apart, but how? It seemed impossible. With Tanner around, would her lies be challenged? Suspected? Her reasons for keeping quiet ten years ago still made sense. Tanner might have done the responsible thing and returned home, but he would have felt resentful. Tied down. Obligated. She wouldn’t let him blame her and Jonathan for losing out on his dreams. That wasn’t the kind of dad Jonathan deserved. The partner she’d wanted.
“Don’t go to sleep, Claire,” he commanded, his voice suddenly sharp.
Her lids flew open and she noticed the line of cypress trees that marked the start of the Bakers’ land. “I wasn’t.”
An uneven breath escaped him. “I should drive you to the hospital.” He started to slow the truck as they approached an intersection and she waved a frantic hand.
“I need to get home. My family will worry if I’m gone too long.” She had to get to the bottom of Tanner’s stay. Convince her father to change his mind. She couldn’t let him get stressed again trying to save the doomed ranch with some crazy, reckless scheme of Tanner’s. The doctor had ordered rest. Calm. Two things Tanner knew nothing about.
“You have a son. Jonathan?”
She pressed her shaking lips together, fighting to keep her face neutral. Already, the questions...
They rolled up to a stop sign and idled. Out of the gloom bounded a pair of braying Labradors, breaking the potent silence that stretched between them. At last, her vocal cords unstuck. “How do you know that?”
His forearms flexed as his fingers tightened on the wheel. “Heard about him from your father.”
Her stomach clenched. “Then he told you I married nine years ago.”
It hadn’t been hard to convince her dad Kevin had fathered Jonathan, since she’d truly fallen for the wonderful man who’d married her three months after Jonathan’s birth. Her father couldn’t have shared anything incriminating with Tanner...
“I’m sorry about Kevin.”
His sympathy fired through her, making her uncomfortable in her own skin. He had no business talking about her husband. Or Jonathan. She leaned her head against the window and stared out at the dim roadside pastures as they flashed by.
“Dad should have mentioned your visit.” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed the bumps on her arms.
Intensity deepened the light creases that bracketed his mouth. “I asked him to. Must have forgotten.”
Claire thought over her father’s recent absentmindedness. It could have slipped his mind... Still, why hadn’t he consulted her right away? If he had, she might have stopped this catastrophe. Tanner staying with her family? On her ranch? Impossible. He would be a bad influence on her boy and her fragile father.
“How are you two still in touch?”
“When my tour group passes by he comes to watch and we go out to eat. Talk on the phone around the holidays.”
“Birthdays, too, I suppose?” Bitterness colored her tone. How had her father kept this from her? Then again, he’d hidden the ranch’s desperate finances. They passed Mr. Ruddell’s ranch, his pear trees flanking the wagon wheels at the start of the drive.
“Sometimes.”
Her temperature rose at his offhand admission. She knew her dad wished he’d had a son to help with the bulls, and Kevin had been more interested in machines than livestock. When she and Tanner had dated, her father had treated Tanner like family. Even trusted him to work with their prize animals, sorting their breeding stock, keeping the best for their program and selling the rest privately or at auction.
“How long is Dad’s invitation?”
Tanner rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s open-ended. I’ll be gone once I get the all-clear, though.”
A short laugh escaped her. “Sounds right.”
“Claire—”
