tilted his head to offer her a curt apology. “This place is a disaster. I should just pay to have the place bulldozed and sell the land. It’s going to take a month or more to get it livable again.” He muttered something under his breath and sat back on his heels. “Don’t move. I’m going to have to get the hammer and pry some of this loose before you can pull your leg out.”
She stood there, lopsided, while he picked up the hammer and fit the claw end into the hole beside her leg. “I hope this doesn’t hurt,” he said as he gave it a mighty tug. The muscles of his shoulders flexed as he worked the wood free. The entire board popped up with a screeching groan.
It did hurt, a little. She asked through gritted teeth, “You’re going to remodel the house?”
He shrugged and put his hand on her calf, helping her out of the hole. “I’m going to try— How does it feel? It looks pretty scraped up.”
The Silky Sheer Precious Ivory panty hose she’d bought early that morning before school were ruined, of course. A big ugly hole opened around the scrape, and three different runs inched from the hole toward her skirt. She managed to nod, as he ran his fingers down the abrasion.
“It’s fine, really.” She drew her leg away from his fingers. “You’re not staying, are you?”
“I’m going to get the house livable again, and sell it as quick as I can. Right now, it ought to be condemned.” He cursed and shook his head.
“Damn old drunk, I’m surprised he didn’t break his neck in this dump.” He knelt in front of her and looked up, grim faced. “Do you want to see a doctor?”
She shook her head and smiled. “Of course not. It’s just a little red.” It stung mightily, and her shinbone ached. She resisted the urge to bend over and blow on it. “A little soap and water, and it will be fine.”
Colt stood and took her hand, leading her away from the hole. “Lazy, worthless drunk. I can’t believe he let the place go like this.” He scowled at the piles of junk in the yard, the tangles of weeds and dried grass, the gray weathered wood that had once been painted white.
Because it felt a little too overwhelming, Becca withdrew her hand from his. If he noticed at all, he didn’t acknowledge it.
Becca took off her bone-colored flat and shook out dirt. “He had a few other things on his mind the past few years. Like maintaining a constant state of inebriation.”
“So, nothing’s changed. You’re the one who left those Alcoholics Anonymous pamphlets for him, aren’t you.”
Becca nodded.
Colt shook his head. “Still the champion of lost causes, Becca? You know he was using them as coasters for his beer, don’t you?”
“I know. And I don’t think anyone is a lost cause.”
“He is,” Colt said grimly. “He is now.”
Becca rolled her lips together and locked her hands behind her back. Despite his attitude, she knew Colt was upset over his father’s passing. Or maybe that was just her, needing to see the best in him. “We tried to get hold of you when he died, Colt. We knew you were in Wyoming, because I—we saw you on television. The bull rides were televised. But by the time we got word to you, you were gone.”
She didn’t want to talk about that day, and knew Colt wouldn’t, either. That morning she’d found Doff passed on in his armchair, and that evening she watched Colt take the hardest toss she’d ever seen, off the back of the bull and into the wall. The bull had charged after him and dug a horn into Colt’s back. She’d thought she was witnessing the death of the entire Bonner family, then.
But the announcer said, as they carried Colt out of the ring on a stretcher, that he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. And though she was sorry for the circumstances, her heart had leapt at the knowledge that Colt was finally coming home.
Except, he hadn’t come home. She, Toby Haskell and Luke Tanner, Colt’s best friends, had buried Doff Bonner. Two months passed, and this was the first any of them had seen of Colt.
“I got your message,” Colt said shortly. “I was tied up at the time. Couldn’t get away.”
Becca nodded. “Have you been to the cemetery yet? We picked out a marker, I hope you approve of it. We didn’t know what—”
“I’m sure it’s fine. How’s your leg?”
She smoothed her skirt and looked down at the ugly red scrape and gaping hole in her hosiery. Lovely. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” If she left right now, she might be able to get away without adding another insult to her injury. Why, she asked herself, did she still have this ridiculous crush on Colt Bonner? He wasn’t that good-looking.
Liar, she answered herself.
“I’ve got to go,” she said firmly. “If you need anything, just give me a call.” She limped down the steps.
“Becca—”
She turned her head, and he was there, close. Before she could react, he kissed her.
It was warm and soft and firm, invasive and overwhelming and delicious, all at once. And over before she knew how to react. He drew his head back, his eyes unreadable. If she hadn’t just felt his lips against hers, she would almost believe it hadn’t happened.
She touched a finger to her lips. “Why did you do that?” The question came with the thought, and she immediately wished she hadn’t voiced it.
He was silent for a long time, his face closed. “Because I’m a damn fool, I suppose.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just said, “Oh.”
Not her most brilliant response, but then, the past ten minutes had been one big blow to her ego, so why worry about it now? She moved to the bottom step of the porch and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “Yes, well—”
“Look, Becca.” He put his hand high on the porch rail, and his undershirt rode up slightly. Becca caught herself staring at the sight of his flat stomach peeking from underneath. You’d think I’d been brought up on a planet without men, she thought. Feeling her cheeks grow warm, she dragged her eyes back to his.
“I appreciate your coming over here. But I really don’t have time to be…well, I’m just going to get this dump livable again and get the hell out of Aloma County. I don’t really want to be around anyone right now.”
She heard the hum of a motor, and looked up to see dirt billow as the sheriff of Aloma County drove down the dirt road.
“It looks like you’re not going to get your wish. There’s Toby Haskell. Sorry, Colt. You have people who care about you here, whether you want them to or not.” She gave him a sad smile. “I’ll go so you two can catch up.”
Colt’s eyes focused on the sheriff’s Jeep pulling up in front of the house. He took a deep breath as if to brace himself, and nodded, not looking at her. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”
Becca drove down the road seconds later, watching in her rearview mirror as the men pounded on each other in welcome. Despite the obviously jovial
