“We’re talking about Ace Hart. The man isn’t going to want you to go anywhere, not with his child. He’s going to fight you tooth and nail and we both know it.”
Flynn hated it when her father was right.
Chapter Four
Ace fished his keys from his jeans pocket as he headed out of the barn.
Flynn had called that morning requesting he meet her at the old fishing hole on Thunder Creek when they were both off work. He’d agreed without hesitation, assuming she was giving him the chance to make good on the apology he owed her.
Now that he was about to see her, doubts crept in.
There’d been an unusual nervous quality in her voice. He hadn’t heard anything like it in ten years, not since he’d asked to meet her at the same fishing hole. His father had recently died, and Ace had informed Flynn it was over between them.
His thoughts returned to the auction five days ago. She hadn’t been nervous then.
Could she have changed her mind about moving and going to nursing school?
Even if she had, she wouldn’t insist on a private meeting in a secluded spot to inform him. There had to be another reason.
Like giving him the chewing out he richly deserved without any prying ears nearby.
He was about to start the engine when Gracie came running from the barn to his truck, one hand securing her hat to her head, the other one clutching a piece of paper. The single mother and only female ranch hand had worked for the Harts two years this coming May. She took a lot of flack from the men and repaid them by dishing out an equal amount, which earned her their respect. Ace liked her, too.
He lowered the driver’s side window, letting in a blast of cold air. Thunder Creek probably wasn’t the best meeting place.
“What’s wrong?”
“The blood work on Midnight just came in from the lab,” Gracie said in a huff when she reached the truck. “I thought you’d want to see it before you left.”
Ace grabbed the sheet of paper and quickly scanned it, his heart hammering.
He hoped to discover a cause for Midnight’s unruly disposition and aversion to people. In an attempt to eliminate any underlying medical reason, he’d put the horse through a battery of health tests, which only made him distrust Ace even more.
“Bad news?” Gracie had assisted Ace during the exams and had taken an interest in Midnight.
“No, good news.” Actually, the results couldn’t be any better. Like every other test Ace had conducted. “Everything’s normal.”
Which meant the horse’s behavior problems were the result of his genetic makeup, social environment or handling.
His recent handling, Ace thought, distaste filling his mouth. Midnight had successfully competed in rodeos for years before Wally Dunlap became ill and turned over the management of his string to a hired foreman. The only reputation Midnight had earned before that was giving cowboys record-breaking rides and producing superior quality offspring.
What had happened to trigger such a dramatic change in him?
Ace was determined to find out.
“Thanks, Gracie.” He handed the paper back to her. “Can you put that on my desk for me? I’m going to—” He paused. Gracie had been one of the people to see him and Flynn at the diner last month. “I’ll be back later tonight.”
“Sure thing, boss. Oh, and I forgot. Colt gave me a message for you. He left for the PRCA Championship Rodeo in Fargo and will be home on Monday.”
Ace’s fingers choked the steering wheel. He stopped squeezing only when he noticed Gracie’s gaze cutting to his hands.
When was his brother going to grow up, quit playing and do something more around the ranch than the least amount of work he could get away with?
No, that would make things easier on Ace, and Colt was all about himself.
“See you in the morning.” Ace started the engine. “Call me if there’s a problem with Midnight.”
Grace hurried off in the direction of the barn and Ace’s office.
He drove away, his focus changing from his brother to Flynn and their meeting.
The road to the old fishing spot was bumpy and winding and overgrown. Piles of unmelted snow and soggy patches made the driving treacherous. Ace hoped Flynn had borrowed her father’s truck and not brought her compact car.
She was already waiting for him when he arrived—her father’s pickup parked with its left front wheel resting on an incline. The roar of furiously rushing water filled his ears as he picked his way down the slope. Barren brush snagged his pant legs. Come summer, when the snow had long melted, the river would once again flow lazily and the woods be overgrown with thick, lush greenery.
Flynn sat near the bank on the trunk of an overturned pine tree, a recent casualty of their hard winter. She held her spine rigid, as if bracing for the worst. Did the prospect of seeing him fill her with that much dread?
For the thousandth time, he wished he could return to that morning weeks ago.
“Hi.” He spoke softly so as not to startle her, though she’d surely heard his boots crushing twigs and scraping across rough ground.
She swiveled to face him, watching him descend the last few feet. “Hi.” She smiled weakly. “Thanks for coming.”
He lowered himself onto the tree trunk beside her, choosing it over the boulder which sat twelve feet away. Their thighs brushed momentarily before she scooted sideways to accommodate him, but not before a rush of heat shot through him.
“You okay?” he asked, curious if she felt the same heat.
“Fine.” She held her clasped hands in her lap, their pale color matching her cheeks.
No heat rushing through her.
“Flynn, whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
“This is difficult.” She swallowed. Fidgeted. “I really hope you’re not angry with me.”
“There’s nothing you can do to make me mad.”
“You say that now.”
“If anything, you should be mad at me. I’m really sorry for the way I bailed on you. There was no excuse for it.” Not a good excuse, leastwise. Losing his nerve was a poor reason if Ace had ever heard one. “I can’t tell you how much I regret it. The leaving. Not…the night. Us.”
He needed to shut his mouth before he said something more stupid than he already had.
She exhaled a shallow, thready breath. “You’re not making this easy.”
“Just
