Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) (6 page)

“Maddie, it’s me. How’s everything going?”

“Well, considering we were expecting you back Monday afternoon and it’s now Tuesday afternoon, I’d say the tide is rising on you fast.”

Rachel smiled at the candor of her assistant. Maddie always had life under control and tended to chafe when others didn’t take life quite as seriously as her. “If the tide is rising, that means my boat must be coming in.”

“Or going out. Rachel, it’s Tuesday afternoon. You said a day or two at the most and it doesn’t sound like you’re calling from the Starbucks on the corner.”

“Not quite. The cowboy I’m transporting needed his head examined more thoroughly than I first thought. Frankly, I think they all need their heads examined, but that’s another story.” Rachel slid down until she sat on the bumper of the truck. The air had grown colder. She needed to make this talk short. “Look, I’m not going to make Casper tonight since it’s so late in the afternoon now. Give me until noon tomorrow to finish up here.”

“Tom’s not going to like it.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“With pleasure. Let me transfer you.” The familiar click sounded and a soothing orchestra playing classical music replaced Maddie. Rachel grinned. No tinny elevator music for their upscale clients. The line clicked again.

“Tom Everitt.”

“Hi, Tom.” She sucked in a breath for fortitude. “It’s Rachel.”

“Rachel Hill? One of my top brokers?” Curiosity tinged his words. “I don’t see you in your office. Do you mind telling me why that is?”

Rachel grappled for the best choice of words. “Tom, you know how much I appreciated your understanding over my attacks. I’ve put my weeks away from the firm to good use and know I have my anxiety issues under control now.”

“Good to hear. So?”

“So,” she repeated. “You know my uncle has been a big help in my recovery, right?”

“The rodeo fellow. Yes, I remember.”

“After all Uncle Mitch has done for me, I couldn’t abandon him.” Calm descended over her as she stared out over the prairie. “Tom, I know I should have spoken to you sooner, but you weren’t in the office yesterday and you didn’t return my phone call. An emergency came up for my uncle and I agreed to help an injured friend of his. I’m on my way to Casper, Wyoming right now. As soon as I drop this cowboy off at the next rodeo, I’ll be headed home.”

Silence stretched on the other line. Rachel swallowed her reservations over her foolish decision to help Nick. Aside from being a rodeo cowboy, Nick Davidson deserved her help. He was an inconvenience to her just as she had inconvenienced Uncle Mitch.

Didn’t matter that Uncle Mitch loved her. He loved Nick Davidson, too. She wasn’t about to go all selfish on her favorite uncle. “Tom?”

“Rachel, you know how highly I think of you. From your first interview fresh out of college until a few weeks ago, you’ve demonstrated your loyalty and dedication to the firm. I’ve always admired that about you.” Papers fluttered in the background and Rachel detected the familiar tapping of a pen against the desk. Tom couldn’t sit still for a minute.

“I don’t like it, but I commend your loyalty to your uncle and his friend. You’re a good person, Rachel Hill. Now, when can we expect you back in the office?”

“It’s getting late so I know I won’t make it to Casper tonight. I should get to Casper by noon tomorrow.” Her heart thudded in her chest as muscles released tension bit by bit. “I’ll be in Thursday morning. I won’t even unpack. Okay?”

Silence hung over the line. She heard garbled words in the background. Life went on at brokerage firms; Rachel needed to get back to that life. “Tom?”

“These past three weeks have been a strain on the staff, not to mention Jim Allen. He’s had a tough time working his own clients’ portfolios along with yours.”

“Thursday, Tom.” Rachel turned away from a speeding car as it whooshed past her. “Tell Jim, I appreciate all he’s doing for me. Tell him he can load me up with his shareholder update presentations, I know he hates giving those. I’ll prepare them for him when I get back.”

“We all have to do distasteful things from time to time. It’s the nature of life. But I’ll Jim know you’ll go out of your way to help him when you return.”

“Thanks, Tom. I appreciate your understanding. See you, Thursday.”

Her words bounced across an empty line. He’d hung up after his last word. Tom Everitt wasn’t known for compassion or tact toward his employees. She was just happy he’d understood.

She clicked off her phone and slid it into her back pocket. Now, to get back to her ornery ol’ cowboy with the fine looking walk. A few more hours, and much deep thought in prayer, and she might pull out of this trip with her sanity.

CHAPTER FIVE

The sun tipped mountain tops to the west cast long shadows across the barren highway as the truck cruised down the road. Nick stared out the windshield, amazed at how little traffic they’d encountered over the last hour. Probably every other self-respecting traveler knew how to punch the pedal and make time. At the rate they were going, he’d be lucky to see Casper by midnight.

It didn’t matter, he could fake a nap the rest of the way and never have to say boo to Rachel. When they arrived in Casper, she would drop him off at the hotel where Cauldwell Cattle had rented rooms and he’d be through with her. Well, not exactly through. She’d probably stay with her uncle until morning. Mitch, with all his familial tendencies, would invite Nick to join them for breakfast before his beloved niece headed back to Denver. A grim smile tightened his lips at the scenario. Wait ‘til he got a hold of Mitch for saddling him for eight hours with a carbon copy of his wife.

Nick reached up and rubbed his jaw. Well, not quite a copy of Stephanie, but close. He lowered his arm and gripped his knee. No, Rachel wasn’t like Stephanie at all except both of them craved the excitement of the city. Rachel hadn’t come right out and admitted it, but any stock broker worth their weight in stress had to be rolling pretty high. That kind of thing didn’t appeal to Nick in the least and it had been the death knell of his marriage.

Stephanie should have married someone like Zac. Zac, Nick’s youngest brother, loved the challenge of the city. He’d supervised the ranch holdings from Denver until last year when he married. Now, he split his time between his ranch and Denver. Nick owned a house in Denver, but couldn’t stand spending more than a few days at a time there. Too many people; way too much traffic. Give him wide open pastures, a horse, and a thousand head of cattle and he’d consider himself in heaven.

His hand clenched into a fist at the old expression he’d once used so often. Heaven. He used to believe in it just as he used to believe in God’s love. But eight years ago God had forsaken him, and Nick saw no reason not to repay the favor. Nine years ago, he’d married Stephanie and from that point on, nothing in his life had gone right.

For five years, Nick had spent countless hours on his knees pleading with God to transform Stephanie into His likeness. He’d known the dangers of being unequally yoked, everyone but the cattle on the ranch had warned him. Still, Nick felt his love and faith were strong enough for them both. But it seemed the more he prayed, the harder her heart grew. In time he discovered, not only didn’t she share his faith, she apparently had never shared his love of the land, either. She wanted to live in Denver, return to society; Nick yearned to live on the ranch, to oversee the livestock. They couldn’t seem to compromise.

Sweat beaded on Nick’s brow as he recalled the final argument that had sent Stephanie packing. Over the past four years, he’d eaten more than his share of arena dirt trying to elude the memories of that day. Haunting memories that continued to challenge him in the darkest part of the night. Memories that poked and prodded at his conscience until he’d wake up time after time in a sweat and pace the floor until dawn. He’d tried to do the right thing. Could he have been so wrong?

The powerful hum of the diesel engine lessened as the truck slowed. Nick pulled his hat low, thankful for the distraction. He hadn’t relived his past so vividly in years. He’d turn on the stereo and close his eyes, and maybe his world would fall back in place again.

The truck slowed more. He scanned along the side of the tree lined highway running the edge of the Black Hills National Forest. A sign indicated a rest area in a mile while another proclaimed Mountain Shadow Lodge due west. Nick grinned in spite of himself. Rachel had probably had too much bottled water during their roadside picnic. If he were honest, stopping at a rest area wouldn’t hurt him either. He squeezed his lids shut against the dull throb at his temples. The truck lurched left onto a dirt road and all thoughts of headache pain disappeared. The last rays of sunlight disappeared as they drove deeper along the forested road. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling off to check out the lodge.” The truck slowed to ease over a bump.

“Why?” Nick resisted holding his head against the jarring ride. “Can’t you wait a mile?”

She threw him a distracted look. “A mile?”

“The sign back on the highway said Rest Area, one mile. Can’t you wait that long to do your thing?” A deeper bump rocked the truck to the side. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Rachel said, not sounding sorry at all. “Actually, my thing is exactly why we’re here. We have to stop for the night.”

Whitened knuckles gripped the steering wheel and he snapped to attention. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“Only of your grump, cowboy.” She guided the truck around another hole.

“Look, we’ve been making good time on an empty highway,” he coaxed, trying a different tactic, one so foreign and rusty, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull it off. “Another four hours, five max and we’ll be in Casper before you know it. Now be a good girl, go to the bathroom and let’s get on down the road.”

“Sorry, big guy,” she said on a sigh. “No can do. I can’t see in the dark. Night blindness.”

Dusk was quickly turning to dark as Nick watched the play of emotions across her face. His stomach sank as he realized she was serious. “Can’t see?” he parroted. “Not even a little?”

“It’s a rod-cone thing. Supposedly I’m missing some of one or the other. Anyway, unless I can feel my way, I don’t do anything in the dark.”

Nick wasn’t sure how to respond to that comment, so he wisely chose silence.

The light of twin bare-bulbs attached to the timber posts of a wooden porch loomed ahead. A two-story fishing lodge stood at the end of the drive complete with smoke from a wood fire spicing the air. A small smile curled his lip. Rustic retreats had their place in a man’s life for good reason. He couldn’t wait to see how his self-appointed guardian dealt with this place.

Allowing the engine to idle, she slipped out of the cab, slamming the door behind her. Nick watched Rachel walk toward the door. He gave in to a chuckle as she stepped onto the porch and paused to look at the lacquered bass mounted overhead before pushing the wooden door open. He wagered they’d be back on the road in five minutes, if even that long. Rachel Hill had Five Star Hotel written all over her.

Left alone in the diminishing light, Nick counted three trucks parked off to the side, none of which appeared too road worthy. A giant, split-wood rocking chair claimed a corner of the porch while the other side sported an old fashioned chest freezer. Just his kind of place. A man could put his boots up on a table here and no one would slap him for it.

Two windows marked the front of the lodge, one on either side of the door. Nick caught sight of green flannel before Rachel stepped out of the lodge and headed toward the truck. Her chin tucked into her collar, she kicked a stone out of her way. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cheering, Nick glanced at his watch. Seven-thirty. With luck, they’d hit Casper by midnight.

Rachel swung open the door and climbed into the cab. She tossed a key chained to a swatch of tanned hide at him. “Compliments of Jake.”

Nick held the key up to the fading light and studied both sides of the hide. “Who?”

“Jake Dubrowski, owner and manager of this fine establishment. We’re lucky he follows rodeo otherwise or we’d be bunking in the outhouse. The place is booked. Bass fishing may be great, but the pheasant hunting’s awesome this time of year. He caters to all clientele.”

Nick shook his head trying to follow her line of explanation. “Jake Dubrowski. . . a cowboy?”

“Actually he’s a fan of bull riding. Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association, Pro Bull Riders, it doesn’t matter. You ride ‘em, he watches ‘em. When I told him you were with me,”--she snapped her fingers–-“miraculously, accommodations became available.”

Nick searched the trees around the lodge for any sign of structures. “He just gave us rooms?”

“No, you’re still paying for it, and you’re donating a photo complete with signature and personalization for the prestigious Mountain Shadows celebrity board. Frankly, between you and me, you’ll be the biggest name there. Awesome honor.”

Her deadpan attitude frayed his nerves; her talking in circles didn’t do much for him either. He didn’t need a tour guide or a manager. He needed to get to Casper. “What gives you the right to determine what I will and won’t do?”