“And yet I don’t know much about her, and we’ve never socialized outside of here. I’m not sure if she’s ever even come into Willow Springs.”
“We should have extended an invitation sooner. I only know her well enough to say hi, and now I feel bad about that,” Tamara said.
“Don’t. She’s shied away from getting close for a reason. If she doesn’t want that to change, we’ll respect her wishes, but it won’t hurt to extend an offer of friendship that includes sympathetic ears if she wants to talk. In the meantime, who the hell are those two?” Nan pointed toward two newcomers settling on stools at the bar, both men well over six foot. The one with coal black hair and matching eyes was just as panty-melting as his friend who wore his wavy, salt and pepper hair long enough to tie back like Connor did, his matching goatee framing a sexy mouth.
Tamara feigned a lustful sigh. “That’s Master Mitchell on the right with the long hair I’d love to tug out of that leather band. He’s the new doctor in town and I get to ogle him at work.”
Nan placed her hand over her heart. “I do believe I’ve put off getting a pap smear for way too long.”
Sydney almost spilled her drink on a choked laugh. “You moron. I’m drooling over Master Kurt. Caden said he went to school with him but he moved to Texas years ago. He’s just returned to take over running the family spread for his ailing father. According to hubby, the Wilcox family can trace their roots in Montana back decades and they’re listed in the top ten of wealthiest families in the state.”
Nan raised a slim brow at that information and then spotted Dan coming toward her. “Uh, oh. I think Master Dan caught me staring.” Pushing to her feet, her pulse skipped a beat and her nipples peaked as he frowned at her. “Gotta go. Let’s meet at the tea shop around two on Wednesday.”
Watching her hightail it over to her fiancé, Tamara giggled. “She’s still the only one I know who looks forward to a punishment.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. We may not like them as intense as she does, but you can get into a long session over Connor’s knees just like I can with Caden,” Sydney pointed out.
“Yeah, you’re right. And now that you’ve planted that in my head, it’s time to join Connor upstairs. Catch you later.”
Chapter 4
Kurt hefted the saddle onto Atlas’ back, eager to get started on the day’s chores. Damn but it felt good working outdoors again, riding every day and settling in to managing the ranch again. Even dealing with his father’s surly attitude the last few mornings hadn’t dimmed his enthusiasm for the long hours of physical labor. He understood Leland was dealing with a lot of changes in his life, both physical and mental. It would be difficult for anyone who was used to a physically active life to lose so much ability. What he didn’t understand was his obstinance when it came to doing the physical therapy that would help him regain some of that strength back.
“Stubborn old man,” he muttered under his breath as he tightened the cinch strap, ensuring his saddle wouldn’t slip. The sun already shone bright enough to warm his back and shoulders as he led the stallion out of the stables and waved to the group of hired hands mounting up for fence repairs. Usually by early September, they would start noticing cooler temperatures, but this year it looked like they were in for a few unseasonably warm weeks nobody was complaining about.
“Are you referring to your father?” Roy asked with a grin, overhearing him as he rode up.
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“Who else? I left him arguing with Cory about going into Willow Springs for therapy instead of having the therapist come out here. It would do him good to get out.” Kurt swung up into the saddle and nudged his hat down to shield his eyes from the bright glare as they rode out side-by-side.
Roy nodded. “I agree. When he’s ready, I’ll help get him up into a saddle again, go along on a ride if you want. That might be enough incentive to spur him along.”
“I’ve already mentioned it, and he seemed pleased with the idea. But when I brought up changing his therapy sessions to the clinic on Monday, he bit my head off and has refused to discuss Cory driving him in for two days now.” As they rode past the family burial plot, he shifted his gaze toward the headstones and fresh flowers adding color to the drab gray slabs.
“The anniversary of Brittany’s death is coming up next month. Leland is always at his worst in the fall,” Roy reminded him.
“Yeah, I remember.” That was one of the reasons Kurt had waited to make his annual trip back home until the end of each year. It didn’t surprise him to hear Leland’s grief and anger hadn’t eased during the years he’d lived in Houston. Any day now, Kurt expected his dad to throw her death in his face, blame him once again for not controlling his sister’s behavior. Not once had his father given him credit for getting Brittany into counseling, for cutting off her allowance in the hopes that would curtail her efforts to buy alcohol and drugs, or for sending the cops after her when she’d resorted to stealing from the family safe, which had resulted in mandatory rehab. “Let’s ride. I need to clear my mind of what’s waiting for me at the end of the day.”
Along with riding the fence line looking to repair downed sections, Kurt and the cowpokes mingled with the herds, interacting with the cattle in a calm fashion to keep their stress level down. Like with people, stress could render beef cattle more susceptible to disease. From what he had observed since returning, he estimated close to a thousand head were nearing the ideal weight of between one thousand and twelve hundred pounds and were old enough to take to market and sold for the highest dollar. But the Wilcox family had always juggled several businesses, including horse breeding and oil, not to mention the investments of their capital. All of which fell to him to stay on top of. While he enjoyed managing the business side of his family’s wealth, nothing beat spending a few hours riding the wide-open spaces with the view of pine-covered mountains rising up into the clear blue sky, stopping along the way to mend downed fences and check their security system. Not all of their land was fenced in, but at least two-thirds was.
As he hammered a board into place with a breeze tickling the back of his sweaty neck, Kurt’s mind wandered to the evening he spent getting to know the members of The Barn, and how his thoughts were constantly disrupted by intruding memories of those few hours he’d enjoyed with Leslie. It was only natural, wasn’t it, to wonder, and worry about the woman with the haunted eyes and the desperate pleas? He figured the only way to settle his conscience was to make another trip into Billings with the sole purpose of looking her up and checking on her welfare. He figured once he did that, he could put her out of his mind and get on with entertaining some of the eager submissives he’d met at the club. Besides reconnecting with Caden, his best friend from school, that was one of the perks of returning home, and a great outlet to relieve some of the stress from dealing with his father on a daily basis.
Kurt returned to the house at noon, sweaty, dirty, aching in a good way and ready to put a few hours in at his desk right after lunch. As soon as he stepped inside and heard Leland’s belligerent yelling from his room, he knew a shower and food would have to wait.
“I said no, and I meant it! One more word and you’re fired.”
With a sigh and a surge of muscle-tightening anger, he strode down the hall and flung open the door without knocking. “What the hell are you bellowing about?” It pissed him off to see Leland still sitting by the window where Kurt had left him earlier, his hair disheveled, his face flushed as he glared at poor Cory.
“He,” Leland jabbed a finger at his aide, “says you called off my home therapy visits. That true?”
“We discussed this, Dad,” he answered, struggling for calm. “You’re well enough to go in for therapy. Tamara has more equipment and resources at the clinic to help get you back on your feet than here.”
“And I told you I’m not leaving the ranch,” he shot back without an explanation.
“Why? Everyone knows about your stroke, it’s not as if anyone who sees you rolling into the clinic will be surprised. You need to get out of this…” Kurt flung his hand toward Brittany’s shrine, “mausoleum.” There, it was out. The wedge between them that was still keeping them apart.
A stricken look crossed Leland’s face, one Kurt couldn’t recall witnessing before. Shifting his bleak expression from Brittany’s picture back out the window, he said in a quiet subdued tone, “Go have lunch. I’ll think about therapy.”