*
Dallas
Stabilizing Dan inemergency before sending him off to the vascular surgeon by ambulance hadn’t been a problem for Dallas. He’d also been okay with the drive to Billings, then sitting with Dan until the drugs wore off so Freda wouldn’t panic over her son’s slow breathing. He hadn’t even minded the long drive home because he’d had traffic to focus on. It was all part of the job he’d signed on for.
But then Ryan had turned around to take Jazz to the hospital to see Dan, leaving Dallas home alone in that empty mausoleum of a ranch house. That was when the alternate scenarios had begun to play out in his head. If Dan’s deputy hadn’t been so well trained in first aid, Dan wouldn’t have made it to the emergency department in Grand let alone the vascular surgeon in Billings. The truth was, one of his best friends, who was like a brother to him, had almost died.
He didn’t like thinking about that, so he turned his thoughts to Hannah for a distraction.
They landed on the night of the wedding.
The Pattersons had emptied one of the ranch outbuildings for the reception, which didn’t detract from the elegance of the event in the slightest. Most cattle operations were supported by alternate sources of income, and the Bar-No Sweetheart did double duty as a high-end dude ranch, meaning Georgia Patterson was used to hosting parties for wealthy clientele. The tables and chairs had been draped in pristine white cloths and garlands of flowers. Strings of tiny white lights formed intricate cobwebs of stardust between the ceiling rafters. A live band performed at one end of the enormous room. An open bar ran a booming business off to the side.
He found his tuxedo jacket, which he’d tossed into the crowd while the groomsmen performed their tribute to the bride and some thoughtful person hung on a chair, and hooked it over one shoulder by his thumb.
Hannah, breathless from dancing, had a drink in her hand. The baby’s breath tucked in her hair mimicked the scattered lighting above them. The formfitting, custom-designed dress she wore had been specially cut in strategic places to allow for freedom of movement and she’d taken full advantage. Her blue eyes glowed with laughter from something someone said.
He touched her arm, then pressed his lips next to her ear so she could hear him over the music. The soft scent of her skin tickled his olfactory receptors and exploded neurons. “I’m going outside to cool off, if you’d like to join me.”
“Love to,” she said.
He forged a path through the crowd, dodging the less sure-footed dancers and those who’d already had a few drinks, with Hannah close behind him. She lost her drink somewhere between the dance floor and the exit.
More lights had been strung between the trees along the gravel paths. The day had started out sunny and warm, but the night air off the nearby mountains was cold enough that they could see their breath. It was October in Montana, after all.
Dallas draped his jacket around Hannah’s shoulders and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm because her high-heeled, impractical shoes were ridiculous for walking no matter how comfortable the women swore them to be.
He couldn’t remember everything they talked about. Nonsense, mostly. She teased him about his stripper moves, which he was quite proud of, and he made fun of her shoes. They walked all the way to the horse barns before she finally admitted the shoes weren’t as comfortable after a few hours of dancing and she might need to sit down.
She limped to a bale of hay inside the door of the first barn. He found the light switch. Then, he’d knelt on one knee and eased a shoe off her foot. He cupped her heel in his hand and massaged the arch with his thumb while she watched him, so beautiful that his fingers turned clumsy. He stroked a palm up her calf while he had her foot neatly trapped, trying to gauge her mood and level of interest, to see if it was anywhere remotely close to his.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she’d whispered.
And that had been the end of any restraint he might have possessed where she was concerned.
Months later, she still drove him nuts. Alone at the Endeavour and unable to sleep, he made up his mind. Whatever bothered Hannah about their past history was her problem, not his. He had to see her.
He’d walked into the taproom, taken one look at her behind the bar, beaming that sweet, peace-inducing smile of hers and wearing a T-shirt with a bright yellow happy face on it, and the whole, awful day sloughed away.
Then he’d come out with that stupid remark about being partial to honey browns because his tired brain hadn’t made the connection that it was also the color of Hannah’s hair. Now she thought he was messing with her. To top it all off, Simone had to show up right at that exact moment, because apparently, the universe couldn’t cut him an inch of slack even after the crap day he’d already been handed.
Playing a board game with Allan and his friends until midnight proved an excellent way to take his mind off Dan and keep him out of trouble with Hannah. Simone, thankfully, left about the time he’d built his third settlement and right before he cornered the wheat market, because who knew how badly he’d keep putting his foot in that particular mess.
After Allan’s girlfriend arrived to drive him and his buddies home, however, he resumed his place at the bar. Five other customers remained, all hunkered around a tense game of chess at one of the tables nearest the door. The two combatants were talking good-natured trash to each other while the three spectators formed the cheerleading squad. Who they were cheering for was anyone’s guess.
All of which left him and Hannah alone.
“I hear your visit with Marsh was a success,” he said.
Hannah’s lovely face glowed. “Marsh is wonderful. I have a virtual gaming system I thought I’d take with me on Sunday. I read somewhere that the games are good for seniors. Do you think he’d be interested?”
Her smile was genuine and warm, the first he’d seen directed at him since the wedding in Sweetheart. His heart slammed on the brakes, backed up, and paused to enjoy it. At the same time, he hated to see her become too invested in Marsh, because miracles weren’t going to happen.
“We don’t all age the same way, so it’s hard to predict,” he said carefully, because he was no geriatrician. “Marsh scores well above average on cognitive impairment tests. For him, I believe it’s more a question of whether or not he can learn how to use a type of technology he has no prior experience with. It might take him longer to catch on to the game, and he’ll likely get tired pretty fast, but he should have fun with it as long as he’s willing to try and you’re willing to be patient and help him.”
A thoughtful frown leaked through her smile. “What you’re trying to say is that, if he’s not interested in virtual reality, I shouldn’t push it, because he might not be capable of figuring it out.”