“We’ll check on the horses and make sure they have enough feed and water to outlast the storm, then we have to bring in more wood for the fireplace. It might be the only heat we have for a while.”
Tulley spoke up. “I can do that. You should rest your leg. You were knocked out for a bit, too.”
“It’s just a scratch.” Colter dismissed Tulley’s warning. “And I’ve been knocked out so many times I’ve lost track.”
“All the more reason—”
Colter cut him off. “Let’s go.”
Ellie secured the hood of her coat over her head, glancing at Marisa. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No. Ms. Preston is not coming,” Colter said before she could find her voice. He quickly ushered Ellie out the door.
Tulley stared at her with a sad expression.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” Colter might not deserve an apology, but she felt Tulley did.
“Not sure why you did.”
“I’m wondering that myself.”
Tulley removed his worn hat and scratched his head. “When you left, it was worse than when that horse trampled him in Cheyenne. He recovered from those bruises, but he’s never fully recovered from what you did to his pride, his heart.”
For the first time she realized how much she must have hurt him. But he obviously didn’t suffer long. She gestured at the darkened room. “He seems to have moved on rather easily.” Colter’s dream had been to own a horse ranch. He’d already bought the land and was saving to build a house when he retired from the rodeo circuit. After meeting her, he’d decided it was time to quit and settle down, and she’d wanted so desperately to be part of his dream. But she never had the chance….
“Not so easily,” Tulley said dryly. “I thought he’d kill himself with the drinking and the partying, then something happened that turned him around.”
She raised her eyes to his. “Ellie?”
“Yeah. When he found out about her, it changed his whole life. Her…her mother decided she couldn’t be a mother, and Colter took full responsibility.”
To say Marisa was shocked was putting it mildly. She couldn’t imagine Shannon not wanting their child. Shannon had been crazy about Colter and they had shared the same interests—horses and the rodeo. What had gone wrong?
She swallowed. “Colter’s a good father.”
“Does that bother you?”
“A little,” she admitted reluctantly. A lot would have been closer to the truth. Colter should know he’d had a son, too.
Tulley crammed his hat back on his head. “That little girl is the center of Colter’s world. Everything he does, he does for her. Please don’t come between them.”
“Oh, Tulley, I would never do that.”
He nodded. “I’m glad. And for good measure I’m asking you not to hurt him again. He didn’t deserve it eight years ago, and he certainly doesn’t deserve it now.”
“Tul—” But Tulley was gone and all she heard was the slamming of the door.
She watched the candles on the table, her emotions flickering and wavering like the glow of the flames. One minute she wanted to tell Colter the truth, the next she didn’t. She took a deep breath, recognizing that her actions were thoughtless and inconsiderate. She’d only been thinking about herself. Maybe Colter was right that she hadn’t changed. Maybe her mother— Oh God, her mother! Her parents were probably waiting for her this very minute to sit down to dinner. She had to call.
Through the dimness she saw a phone on the kitchen wall. She reached for it, but the line was dead. Now what? Her cell phone might work. Looking around for her purse, she realized it was still in her car at the corral. She’d have to go herself, because she certainly wasn’t asking Colter for any favors.
She opened the back door, then immediately closed it. The temperature was freezing, and she needed a heavier coat. Her eyes settled on the closet full of coats—surely Colter wouldn’t mind? She rummaged until she found a heavy navy wind-breaker with a hood. Holding the jacket to her face, she breathed in the leather and musk scent—Colter. She remembered that tantalizing fragrance, and for a moment she was lost in its magic.
She slipped on the jacket, which was rather large but would do. She zipped it up and tucked her hair beneath the hood.
Outside she stopped as the frigid air took her breath away. It was bitterly cold—the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. Light sleet fell to the ground. Icicles hung from the roof and the trees, and the wind added to the chill factor. She had to get her phone in a hurry.
There was no ice under the covered walkway, but as soon as her heels touched the grass, it crunched beneath her feet. Suede heels were not the ideal footwear for this weather. They’d be ruined, but she didn’t particularly care. Her goal was to reach her car without breaking her neck.
She judged each step carefully, but a few yards from her car her feet slid out from under her and she landed on her butt with a thud that jarred her whole body. Sleet peppered her head, and her face, hands and feet were numb. Tears weren’t far away. Everything seemed to close in on her at once.
What am I doing here? What am I doing here?
Sitting there, miserable, she felt her life become as clear as the chill in her bones. She’d believed she’d grown stronger and more confident, but in reality she hadn’t. That was why she was so dissatisfied with her work. She’d traded living with her mother for living with her father, and he was just as domineering and controlling. Yet she clung to that security. Why? At almost twenty-six, she should be making a life for herself. She was a pampered little rich girl, just as Colter had said, unable to stand on her own two feet.
At the moment, that was the actual truth. Her body shook with cold, and she made a promise, a vow to herself. She was going to change her life completely—get away from her parents. Now if she could just get to her feet…
Colter dumped fifty pounds of feed into a trough under the eaves of the barn. He turned—and saw Marisa as she fell. He dropped the bag and ran for the gate. She wasn’t getting up. Was she hurt? His feet slowed as he realized what he was doing—going to her aid. The past came full circle, and so many feelings were choking him, he fought to breathe. I don’t care about her. I don’t. He’d help anyone who needed help. I don’t care about her. I don’t. Over and over, he repeated the words, but he never stopped in his movement toward her.
“Are you hurt?”
Marisa glanced at him, squinting against the sleet. “No. Just my pride.”
“Well, get up. It’s freezing out here.”
“I’ve tried, but my feet keep slipping out from under me.”
Without a word, he held out his leather-gloved hands.
She placed her cold hands in his and he pulled her to her feet. When she slid into him, he caught her, holding her steady. He hadn’t touched her in eight years and the sensation radiated a warmth that dispelled the cold. It brought back so many wonderful memories of touching her, loving her, until the warmth became a blazing flame. He hated the fact that he could remember those emotions so clearly.
“Were you trying to leave?” he asked, suddenly releasing her.
She brushed sleet from her nose. “I was trying to reach my car to get my cell phone. I need to call my parents, and the phone at the house is dead.”
At the mention of her parents, he stepped away from her. “Mommy still keeping tabs on you?” he asked, unable to disguise his sarcasm.
She