“You’re kidding.” Colt laughed. “You and Luke Tanner in charge of the law and order around here? I guess he’s probably settled down, too.”
“Nah, he’s still hounddogging all the ladies. Teases me about getting old and fat, too. Man, it’s good to see you, Hoss.”
Colt took a step back and frowned. “You’re not going to hug me again, are you?”
“I’m not that glad to see you. I’m real proud of you, man. One more win and you take Doff’s record. The whole town’s kept up with your career, you know, watching the bull riding competitions on television. But it’s not the same as having you here. I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” He nodded vaguely at the filthy, broken-down house around them.
“Yeah” was all Colt said. “I got the message. I just, uh, I just couldn’t really turn loose of my schedule right then. You want some more coffee?”
“Hell, no, not this sludge. So,” Toby said, slapping his hands together and rubbing his palms, “how long are you staying?”
Colt shrugged. “A few weeks. I plan on selling the place, so I have a few things to fix before I can put it on the market.” He looked around the kitchen, at the torn linoleum, the cabinet door hanging on one hinge, the bare lightbulb sagging from the stained ceiling. “A few weeks. Maybe a month.”
“Great. The longer it takes, the longer you’ll be around. Right now, I have to get back to the station. Corinne made a coffee cake this morning, and Tanner is liable to eat the whole thing before I get back.”
“Yeah, if you don’t have your afternoon snack, you might dry up and blow away.” Colt eyed Toby’s belly as he walked by.
“Say what you like. Corinne thinks I’m sexy. And she’s a hell of a lot prettier than you are.”
“And more diplomatic. Tell her I said hi.” He followed Toby back to the Jeep.
“Tell her yourself. Come by the house and have dinner with us.”
“Sure,” Colt said, looking down the road.
“If I have to hog-tie you to get you there, I will,” Toby promised, pulling on his hat.
“I’ll be there. Just give me a few days to get things going around here.”
“Tanner and I are already planning our first poker game.”
Colt grinned. “Good. I can pick up a few extra bucks.”
“We don’t play for money anymore, being the responsible pillars of the community that we are now.”
“Corinne put a stop to it, huh?”
Toby shrugged. “She said it was ‘morally reprehensible’ of me to be engaging in illegal acts while I was the elected sheriff. Corruption of power and all that. So now we play for Tootsie Rolls.”
Colt laughed and shook his head. For the first time he was actually a little glad he was back in Aloma. Friendship…he’d forgotten what it tasted like. “Okay, whatever. I’ll still win.”
Toby opened the door to his Jeep and shrugged. “Probably. Of the three of us, you’re the only one with a poker face. Listen, go over and see Becca while you’re here, okay?”
“She already asked me over for dinner tonight. I told her no.”
“Then, change your mind.”
“Why?”
Toby turned the key. “No reason, except she looked after your old man and you owe her. She cared about Doff, even though he was an ass to her.”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be around Doff for more than five minutes.”
“Becca likes to take care of people.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Colt said, looking pointedly at Toby.
Toby grinned. “So let her take care of you a little. It’ll make her happy.”
“I wasn’t planning on doing a lot of socializing while I was here.”
“You never planned on socializing, Hoss. If you ever went to a party, it was because I dragged you. And I’ll do it again if I have to. Go have dinner with Becca.” He put the Jeep into reverse and tugged his hat low. “It’s your duty. A home-cooked meal with a pretty woman. Not a bad deal, as duties go.”
In the end, it wasn’t duty or Toby’s request that made Colt decide to go to Becca’s house. He was simply sick of his own company. He’d been angry with Doff for two months—actually, it was more like two decades—and coming back to see the mess the old man had left him just angered him more. His nerves hummed like live wires all day, and work had done nothing to take the edge off.
Anger had always been his tool, something he pulled out of his pocket and swallowed down before he climbed onto the back of a bull. Thinking about Doff before a ride could get his blood pumping and his nerve sharp. The determined adrenaline stayed with him through the ride.
But out here, there was nothing to climb on and ride the anger out. He’d been practically vibrating with it, until the moment he looked over his shoulder to see a pretty woman standing in his front yard. And in that moment, a thought had popped into his head.
Now, I could ride that.
He almost laughed to think what prim and proper Becca Danvers would think about that. She’d actually invited him to do so, a lifetime ago. Of course, she wouldn’t have offered if she hadn’t been stone drunk, and she obviously didn’t remember the incident.
But it wasn’t that memory that had him knocking off work earlier than he’d planned. What Toby had said, about Doff being an ass to Becca, kept running through his mind. Of course, Doff was an ass to everyone. But Becca, being Becca, had turned the other cheek and kept coming back. She had come today, and he had been barely a notch or two above jerk-level to her.
He’d spent his whole life—or at least his adulthood—proving to himself he was better than that washed-up drunk. But times like these, he cursed Doff because he knew he carried some of dear old Dad’s quality traits. Like picking on those weaker than himself.
So it was a guilty conscience and determination to prove he wasn’t the jackass Doff had been that had him searching for a bar of soap in a filthy house. He took one look at the bathtub and decided he’d have better luck with the water hose in the backyard.
Half an hour later, his blood cooled to the point of civility by his makeshift cold shower, he pulled on clean jeans and a shirt and headed across the field to fulfill his “duty.”
Chapter 2
Becca flipped the stick of graphite between her fingers and used the wide edge to shade the bell of the wedding dress on her sketch pad. Her brow furrowed as much in consternation as concentration, she tried to ignore the voice that echoed spitefully through her head.
Haven’t changed a bit to me.
She closed her eyes and blew a gust of breath at her bangs. Of course, he was right. Oh, she’d worked hard to change her outward appearance. And at the risk of sounding vain, she’d made some major improvements. But then, there had been a lot to improve upon.
Trust Colt to see right through the new hairstyle, the hours spent at the makeup counter at the department store learning how to make the most of her “natural attributes,” the constant inner reminder to hold her chin up, to look people in the eye, to speak clearly.
Trust Colt to see immediately what she had forgotten. That she was really, underneath it all, still the same old Becca Danvers.
Who had she thought she was kidding? Certainly not herself, though she’d tried hard enough. She’d tried this morning, when she pulled her special-occasion-only suit out of the closet, telling herself