She had to pull away. She had to break this off. She couldn’t let this go on for another minute.
Well, maybe just a minute. Or two. For just a little while, could she let herself touch heaven again?
No! She had to be strong. She had to think of her twins.
That did it. She finally pulled away from him, breathless and angry with herself.
“Oh, Mitch!” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while staring into his clouded eyes. “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”
“I can’t,” he said very softly, his gaze never leaving hers.
Shaking her head, she tore away from him and hurried back to the car. He caught up with her before she reached it, grabbing her elbow and pulling her around to face him. The moment she looked into his eyes, she was relieved. He looked like a different person.
“You’re right, Darcy,” he said calmly, dropping her arm when he could see she wasn’t going to run. “Of course you’re right. And I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “Me, too,” she said.
He took a deep breath. “We’ve got too much emotional baggage between us. We’ve got to deal with it. We didn’t settle things about the twins.”
She nodded again. “No, we didn’t, did we?”
He grimaced. “We got sidetracked with you talking about marrying Bert Lenson.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not marrying Bert Lenson.”
“Then why did you throw his bald-headed hat into the ring?”
I was only trying to scare you. She couldn’t say that out loud, but it was the truth—though she didn’t even want to admit it to herself.
“I was just using him as an example of the kind of man my boys need in their lives. I just wanted you to understand the reality of the situation. You should know what’s going on.”
He shrugged. “You know, I’m a little surprised you even think I should have any say in the matter.”
She hesitated. “Look, Mitch. I know you can’t be the sort of father I would want for them. But you are their biological father. We have to go from there.”
He nodded, searching her eyes. “Just by saying that, you give up a certain amount of control. You understand that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. I know.”
He shook his head, studying her as though he could hardly believe what he saw. “I have to admire your integrity for that. It takes guts to take that sort of risk.”
She quickly dampened her dry lips with her tongue. “You know, in a funny way, I trust you. I know you’ll do the right thing, whatever we decide that will be.”
They stared at each other for a long, long moment.
“Okay,” he said, taking her hand to lead her back to the car. “We haven’t decided what to do, but we’ve decided to trust each other. That’s a step in the right direction.”
She nodded. It really was.
They were back on the road in minutes, pulling out onto the two-lane route, heading back toward the city. Mitch stretched and let out a deep breath. “We need to get something to eat,” he said brightly.
“Speak for yourself,” she responded tartly.
He looked at her, bemused. “Okay, I will. I could eat a horse.”
She almost smiled. “That’s a dangerous thing to threaten out here in horse country.”
She could see his slow grin out of the edge of her vision. “I’ll make do with a burger,” he said. He sat up straighter in his seat. “And I know just where we can get one.”
“Where?” she asked skeptically. They were out in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t seen a gas station for miles, much less a hamburger stand.
“Turn right on the Sorrel Highway.” He pointed out the sign just ahead. “It’s been years, but I think it’ll still be there.”
She turned where he’d indicated, but the land looked empty in that limitless way that didn’t bode well for hamburgers. How many miles would he want to go before giving it up as a lost cause?
“It’s got to be out this way,” he reassured her. “I remember it well. My grandfather had a cattle ranch in the Sargosa Hills and I used to go out and help him work the place sometimes on summer vacations. There was this old recluse of a guy—think of your ultimate stereotype of the old prospector with a pickax on his shoulder and a mule by his side. His name was Ry Tanner.”
He scanned the horizon, then pointed as a ramshackle building came into view. “There it is! See that bed and breakfast? That’s got to be the place. Stop there.”
Darcy frowned doubtfully as they pulled up in front of the ancient building. A two-story frame in a rustic Victorian style, standing out alone on the treeless plain, it looked like a survivor of another age. The sign said, Tree Stump Bed And Breakfast. Another sign, hanging by a tattered rope, said, Café. And there were a few tables and chairs set out on the browning grass of the front yard, in the shade of a small stand of cottonwood trees.
“Mitch, are you sure?” she began.
“Absolutely,” he said, getting out of the car. “We can get some lunch here. Come on.”
She followed him but she wasn’t too keen on this. The place almost looked abandoned.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, frowning.
But Mitch was cupping his hands and calling toward the entry to the building. “Hello! Anybody here?”
There was a dusty silence for a moment, but just as Darcy was starting to turn away, a gruff voice came from the house.
“Go away. We’re closed.”
Mitch grinned, giving Darcy a wink. “It’s him,” he said before stepping closer. “Ry Tanner, ya ole reprobate. Is that you?”
There was a pause, then the voice sounded again. “We’re closed, I tell you.”
But Mitch had mounted the steps to the front door and was peering in through the milky glass. “Ry Tanner, come on out here.”
“Who’s that?” the voice demanded.
“Mitch Carver.” He spread out his arms. “Don’t you remember me?”
The door opened a crack and a grizzled head appeared. “Mitch Carver! Is that you?”
“It’s me, all right.”
The door opened a bit more and the old man stood in the light. “What are you doin’ here? I ain’t seen you for years.” His gnarled face turned and his beady black eyes took in Darcy, too. “And you got yourself a pretty girl. Poor thing. I never thought you’d find one would put up with ya.”
Mitch laughed. “She doesn’t. But that’s another story.”
The man shuffled out onto the porch and nodded toward the tables on the grass. “Come on over and set a spell,” he said. “Out here in the cool breeze.”
“We came to get some food,” Mitch said as they followed him to the table.
He shook his gray head. “We’re closed.”
“A little snack will do. That’s all we need.”
Dropping down into a chair, Ry Tanner frowned at his company. “I told you, we’re closed.”
“No, we ain’t.” A plump, pretty woman who looked to be in her forties came out of