KIDNAPPED COWBOY (13 page)

Unshed tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, tears she refused to shed in front of these two men.  Once again, she had failed.  Not only herself, but the kids. 

Brandon Barnes’ voice rang out behind her.  “I’ll make you a deal”

She stopped at the door, turning to face him.  “What?”

He settled onto the edge of his desk and crossed his arms.  “I’ll hold off on my plans to shut down Stoney Brook and build that resort on one condition.”

“And that is?” Something told her she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

His gaze shifted to Dalton.  “I want my brother involved in running the camp.”

Dalton shook his head.  “I train horses, not kids.”

“Consider it your new occupation.”

“That’s not fair,” she argued.  “This doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

“You’re wrong.  This has everything to do with my brother.”

“How can you say that?”

A muscle in the Ogre’s jaw twitched.  “I can say it because he’s a Barnes.  Stoney Brook belongs to
our
family and it’s about time Dalton take on his share of responsibility.”

“Even if it’s responsibility I don’t want?” Dalton replied with a scowl.

“That’s the deal,” Brandon said.  “You help Miss Myers here make the necessary repairs to the camp before it opens and then stay on to help her run it through the summer.  Otherwise, I go ahead with my plans to tear it down and put up a resort.”

Her gaze shot to Dalton who looked like he had swallowed a horn-toad backwards.  She never meant to involve him in this.  “Dalton, I...”

He held up a hand.  “It’s all right.  My brother might’ve lost sight of what’s really important, but I haven’t.  I’ll do it.”

“Glad to hear it.”  Brandon stood and walked back around the desk.

“No,” she blurted out, making her way back to Brandon’s desk.  “I don’t accept your conditions.”

He glanced up at her.  “So you’re prepared to let the retreat go?”

“Hell, no, she’s not letting it go,” Dalton growled.  He turned to her.  “You and I both know it’s the only way to save Stoney Brook.”

“But you─”

“Forget about me.”  His gaze shifted to his brother.  “It’s a deal.”             

“Good,” his brother said triumphantly.  “Glad to hear it.  Send any bills for the necessary repairs and supplies to Alan.  I’ll inform him of the change in plans.  Oh, and Dalton...”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let me down.  Because it won’t be just me you’d be running out on this time.”

Dalton’s posture was rigid, his jaw set determinedly as he met his brother’s challenging gaze.  “Don’t worry.  I have no intention of going anywhere until summer ends.  And then I’ll be getting the hell out of here.” 

She had no doubt Dalton would be running out of Lone Tree as fast as his feet would carry him once this ‘sentence’ from his brother was up.  But at least she had him there for now, guaranteeing Stoney Brook’s survival for at least another summer session. 

She had gotten exactly what she wanted, so why then didn’t she feel victorious?  She met Dalton’s gaze and knew why.  He was going to be the one paying the price to keep the retreat open, not her.  It wasn’t fair. 

“Don’t expect me to be surprised that you’ll be leaving,” Brandon told him, then stood.  “Now if you two will excuse me, I have some calls to make.”  His not-so-subtle way of telling them it was time to leave.

“By all means,” Dalton replied, his anger still evident in the steadily ticking muscle in his jaw.  “God forbid we keep your precious business waiting.”  That said, he spun on booted heel and strode from the room.

Caitlin turned to the Ogre.  “What you did to your brother wasn’t right.  Not in the least.  Despite that, I wanna thank you for allowing the retreat to open again this summer.”  That said, she turned and went after Dalton.

By the time she reached him, Dalton was already halfway across the yard on his way to the barn.

“Dalton, wait.”

“Not now, Caitlin.”  He continued walking.

She continued her pursuit, even as the hurried pace pained her ankle.  “I know you’re upset,” she called out.  “And you have every right to be.  You shouldn’t have been dragged into this.  I’m sorry.”

He finally slowed his step to a near stop, allowing her to catch up to him.  “It’s not your fault.  And you shouldn’t be running around on that damned ankle.”

Ignoring that last comment, she said, “I never meant to get you involved in this.”

“Brandon’s right.”

“What?” she gasped in surprise.

He glanced back toward the ranch house.  “It’s time I start taking on my share of responsibility where the family business is concerned.”  Opening the barn door, he stepped inside.

She followed, limping across the straw-covered floor.  The smell of leather and liniment hung thick in the air around her. 

“Just so you know,” she said, “I don’t expect you to get too involved.”

He unlatched one of the stall doors and stepped inside.  His large hand moved to stroke along the chestnut-colored mane of the horse standing next to him. 

“One thing you’re gonna learn about me is that I don’t do things halfway.  When I told Brandon I would do this, I meant it.  I’m gonna help get Stoney Brook ready to open and then stay on until summer’s end.”

She stepped up to the stall’s gate.  “Thank you.  I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

He glanced back at her with a smile.  “I think I have a pretty good idea.  I’ve seen firsthand the lengths you’re willing to go for the sake of those kids.  And, to be honest, I admire your dedication.”

His words meant a lot to her.  “Is that your horse?” she asked, noting the gentleness of his touch upon the animal.

He nodded.  “Yes.”

It didn’t surprise her that he had turned to the one thing that really mattered to him.  His horse.  “What’s his name?”

“Bolt.”

“Excuse me?”

“His name.  It’s Bolt.”  He turned the horse and pointed to the jagged black mark on its forehead.  “Seemed only fitting.”

She eyed the unusual marking.  “It’s shaped like a lightning bolt.”

He nodded.

“The name fits perfectly.”

“I thought so.” 

He let his hand fall away and stepped from the stall, closing the gate behind him.  He seemed a lot calmer than he had been when he’d gone in there. 

“Dalton, I know the retreat is probably the last thing you wanna talk about right now, but I just want you to know that I’ll make sure the kids stay out of your way.”

He turned to her and much to her relief was still smiling.  “I intend to be involved.  Don’t worry about the kids.  They won’t be a problem.”  She laughed at his naivety.  “You might not be saying that once you’ve experienced them firsthand.”

“I promise you, Caitlin.  There’s nothing those kids could throw at me that I’m not gonna be able to handle.”

“Is that so?” she asked with a grin.

He arched a challenging brow.

“Have you had much experience with teens?”

“Well, no,” he replied.  “Not exactly.  But half the guys I used to ride the circuit with acted like hormonal teens.”

“Be forewarned, Dalton, these are not semi-immature, skirt-chasing men you’ll be dealing with.  These are kids from broken homes, or from homes where the parents have tried everything to turn their troubled teens around and are turning to Stoney Brook as a last resort before more drastic measure need to be taken.”

“I understand that.”

No matter what he said, she had to wonder if he really knew what he was getting himself into.  It took a certain kind of person to work with troubled teens.  Someone willing to accept and understand all the hurt and anger they harbor when first arriving.  Someone willing to stick it out good or bad until they break through the walls these teens have put up.

“I just wanna make sure you’re going into this thing with your eyes wide open and wanting to do this.  Not that your brother gave you much choice in the matter,” she added with a frown.

“I know what I’m getting into.”

“Good.  Then keep in mind the most important thing is having patience when it comes to dealing with these kids.  And I’ll tell you right now, it’s not always easy.”

“I don’t understand.  I thought this was what you wanted, convincing Brandon to let the retreat open.”

“It is.”  Nothing was more important.

“Then why does it seem like you’re trying to talk me out of doing this?”

“This can’t happen without you.  Brandon won’t let it.  I know that.  But I also can’t afford to have you taking out the resentment you feel toward your brother making you do this on the kids.”

“I would never do that,” he assured her, his mouth pulling into a slight frown.  “Hell, I was an angry teen once myself.  So I understand better than you think I do.  Besides, I rode bulls for a living.  How hard could it be to handle a few troubled kids?”

“Yes, but this ride is gonna last a little longer than eight seconds.  It’s all summer.”

His mouth edged up into a wide grin.  “Ah, I get it.”

“Get what?”

He shook a finger at her playfully.  “You’re not really worried about whether or not I’ll be able to handle myself with those kids.  You’re afraid you’ll be too distracted with me around.”

“I what?”

He advanced on her, backing her up to the barn wall.  “Admit it,” he said as he placed his hands, palm-flattened against the wood planks on either side of her head. “
You
are afraid you might be spending all of your time thinking about what it would be like to kiss me again.”

“You’re crazy!”

He lowered his head until his mouth was scarcely inches from hers.  “Am I, Caitlin?”

Her pulse quickened and her traitorous gaze left those teasing dark eyes to settle on his lips.  No, she was crazy.  How was she going to spend the entire summer with this man and not think about kissing him?

CHAPTER SEVEN

The bell over the diner door jingled as another customer came in.  Breakfast was their busiest time.  Caitlin looked up from the cup of coffee she was pouring to see Dalton standing in the doorway.

It had been two weeks since she’d seen him and he looked every bit as good as she remembered.  The sleeves of his white cotton t-shirt were stretched to the max over his muscular arms and tucked into the belted waist of boot cut jeans.  He wore a black hat, probably a Stetson, slung low over his brow. 

He stepped inside and flashed her a lazy cowboy smile that made her knees go weak.  Then he removed his hat and started toward her in that all-hunk stride of his.  There was no denying it, the man was hot.

Suddenly, heat that didn’t involve Dalton ran across her hand.  She let out a yelp that had every head in the place turning her direction.

He closed the distance between them in a flash and reached across the counter for her hand, the one she had just poured hot coffee all over while standing there in her Dalton-induced fantasy.

“You all right?” he asked, a worried frown etched into his deeply tanned face as he inspected her hand.

“I...I’m fine.”  She pulled her hand away and turned to clean up the mess she had just made on the counter.  “It just startled me.  That’s all.”

His expression remained one of concern.  “Hot coffee on one’s skin would have a tendency to do that.  Maybe I should take you to—” 

“Don’t even say it,” she said, cutting his suggestion off.  People were already casting curious stares their direction.  She leaned over the counter to whisper, “What is it with you anyway?  Do you get some kind of kick-back from Doc McGraw for bringing patients in there?  Or do you just like carrying women around Neanderthal fashion?”

Dalton’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering with amusement.  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Never mind,” she replied with a groan as she tossed the coffee-soaked rag into the sink and dried her hands on a clean towel.  “I’d rather you not.”

She hurried to pour another cup of coffee to replace the one she’d spilled and then placed it onto a serving tray next to a plate full of silver dollar pancakes and a small pitcher of maple syrup.  

He held up his hands.  “No kick back, I swear.  I just like playing knight with shining belt buckle.”

She was not going to give in to the urge to look down at this ‘knight’s’ shining belt buckle.  She was flustered enough as it was already.

Her tormenter settled onto the stool directly across from where she stood at the counter, still flashing her that naughty-boy grin.

Men who looked like Dalton Barnes should come with warning labels: Hazardous to a woman’s health and sanity.

She picked up the tray and stepped around the end of the counter to where Abel Landers sat, Lone Tree’s oldest living citizen who credited his longevity to the diner’s buckwheat pancakes that he ate every morning.

After serving him and exchanging their usual chitchat, she returned to the counter where Dalton was pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“This isn’t a self-serve diner, you know.”

He sat back and smiled.  “My fault.  I thought I’d save you the trouble.”  His gaze dropped to her ankle.  “I see you’re getting around better now.”

She nodded.  “Much and thankfully so.  Waiting tables on crutches is not the easiest feat.”

“I can imagine.  You should have taken some more time off.”

“Can’t afford to.  I have bills to pay.”  She relieved him of the coffee pot.  “And as far as saving me any trouble, I’m a waitress.  It’s my job to wait on you.”   

“That’s good to know.  For future reference, of course.”

Future reference?  Oh, the thoughts that came to mind.  Thoughts she quickly pushed aside.  She slid her order pad from the pocket of her apron.  “What’ll you have?”

“You.”

Her hand dropped down, her gaze snapping up to meet his.  “Funny.  I meant for breakfast.”

He opened a menu, studied it, and then looked up at her over the top of it.  “You mean you aren’t on here?” 

“Are you ordering or not?” she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.  Despite what he seemed to think, he wasn’t the only customer in the diner.  And people were staring at them...again!