But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to report it. She’d walked by the mustangs every workday for the past couple weeks and seen them listless under the hot sun. She’d been disturbed by their misery, but she’d done nothing. She might hate Todd’s methods, but she couldn’t fault his reasons.
The problem was, during all the years she’d raised Wade, she’d preached honesty. She’d made sure he understood how important it was to obey laws and rules and not participate in their family’s criminal lifestyle. How could she explain to him that she was choosing to overlook something illegal?
Frustration fueled her anger further. Todd Williams was pure trouble. It was telling that the moment he reentered her life, he put her in this kind of dilemma.
She shoved open her door and jumped out of the truck. Reaching into the back, she grabbed the rope they’d used to tie down the broken tools. “I’ll bring this back to the barn.”
“I’ll take it,” Wade offered. “Go get ready for your date.”
“It’s not a date!”
He took the rope from her hand, laughter making him look younger than he had in a while. “It’s my duty, as your brother, to tease you. Now go shower.”
She must really look bad if he was shooing her off to get cleaned up. “Thanks.” She turned and headed for the house.
Inside, she went straight to the bathroom. Caught in the mirror, her grim expression made her face look different. It belonged to someone older. Someone angrier. And dirtier. Grease coated her hands, and black finger marks were smeared across her forehead. Her jeans were more brown than blue and her T-shirt had a cobweb down one side. Not the look she’d envisioned for herself when she’d imagined seeing Todd again.
Staring at her reflection, she traced the vertical crease between her brows and the frown lines around her mouth, leaving trails of black grease behind. It looked like war paint. Which was fitting. Todd, the masked man, was unmasked, and he would get a lot more than a beer when he met her at the Dusty Saddle tonight.
NORA STARED INTO her glass of mediocre white wine and considered finishing the rest of it in one gulp. Like some kind of medicine for her hurt pride. Todd was standing her up. Either that or he was extremely late. It didn’t matter, because now she was reminded of how often he’d been late for things toward the end of their relationship. It wasn’t a part of her past she cared to relive.
He’d always had a good excuse, rushing in from meeting with one environmental group or another, blaming his tardiness on an issue that had to be discussed. But the truth was, at the end of college, at the end of them, he’d loved his activism way more than her. She’d notice him during their dates glancing at his watch to make sure he was on time for his next event. Their time together must have seemed boring to him compared to all that political urgency.
It wasn’t that she didn’t support his causes. She wanted people to stop cutting down the rain forest, too. She wanted wars to end and endangered species to be saved and oil spills to be stopped. But she hadn’t felt the same need to devote her entire life to protesting those problems.
Plus, she’d had her own cause back then. Wade. Maybe it was just a small cause, but it had been hers for as long as she could remember. Wade was so bright, and he was her baby brother, and she’d spent her childhood keeping him safe. When she’d gone away to college she’d been sure that if she could just keep him on track and get him through high school, he’d be okay.
So she’d worked extra jobs and sent him the money. She’d paid for cell phones so they could talk daily. And during those conversations, she tried to override the negative influence of their dad and brothers. And when that hadn’t worked, she’d driven to Marker Ranch to take him with her when she’d started grad school.
Nora took one last gulp of her bad wine and stood up, pulling her jacket off the adjacent bar stool. She wasn’t that love-struck college girl anymore. She didn’t have any reason to wait around for Todd in a dive bar.
“Nora!” Todd strode across the stained floor, bringing the scent of fresh night air with him. He wore faded jeans and leather hiking boots, and a piece of straw clung to his hair. She reached up automatically and pulled it off, then jerked her hand back when she realized what she’d done.
“I’m sorry I’m late. One of my mares is foaling. I’ve got people with her now, but I had to wait for them to get there before I could leave.”
She set her coat back down, uncertain what to do now. It was, as usual, a reasonable excuse.
“Let me buy you a drink. Please don’t go. I would have called but I didn’t have your number...” His voice trailed off and she knew he was making the connection to the previous night. The look of discomfort on his face was almost funny.
“Plus you know that I don’t have a phone. Right?”
He was silent, staring. And then she saw it...the realization, creeping across his face in slow motion. He knew that she knew who he was. And what he’d done. His eyes went wide and his bronzed skin paled a shade. “Nora, I’m...”
“Sorry you chucked my phone into the desert? I went back this morning, but I couldn’t find it. You have a good arm.”
“You know it was me.” It came out heavily, with regret and maybe some relief.
“Yes.” She studied him, trying to picture the mask on his face. Now that she knew it was him, it was hard to imagine how she’d not seen it.
“I’ll get you a new phone. I promise. Tomorrow.” He gestured toward the bar. “Stay? Have a drink with me? We obviously have a few things to discuss.”
It was tempting to leave. To leave him uncomfortable and wondering what she’d do next. But unfinished business would leave her uncomfortable, too. “Only if you order me something way better than this wine.”
He winced. “Ugh. I forgot that you like wine. This is not the place to drink it. How about something a little more foolproof? Beer?”
“Vodka.” She needed something stiffer than beer to face him. He looked so damn good and she was so angry. “And tonic.” She waited while he ordered for both of them.
“So,” he said, putting a few dollars of tip on the bar and picking up the drinks. “Maybe we should head over to a quiet corner?”
“Why, so we can discuss your criminal activity discreetly?” She wanted to shout it, but instead tossed the words quietly over her shoulder as she led the way to a booth tucked against the back wall and sat down on the scarred wooden bench. Todd took a seat on the other side of the table and slid her vodka toward her. She took a sip and waited. He’d asked her here—no way was she making it easy for him.
“I guess it could be considered criminal. I’m sorry about your phone. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Anger, hot and self-righteous, was almost soothing in its purity. “Really? You almost killed me out there and you want to keep talking about the phone?”
“Well, it’s a start.” His eyes were deer-in-headlights wide.
“I was huddled behind a rock, with the horses jumping over me inches from my head! I thought that was it. That I was going to die. And you want to talk about my phone?”
“No... I just... I’m just sorry, Nora.”
He looked so totally miserable that she felt a grim satisfaction. Enough to soften a little. “What were you thinking?”
He reached for her hand but she yanked it back.
“It