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“I can’t imagine it. Hurting innocent animals to get back at us?” She shook her head, and her hair shone pure gold under the artificial lights. “No way. No one around here is that mean.”
“I hope you’re right,” Colton said, glancing to where Denver stood staring in frustration at Tempest. Grim lines creased Denver’s forehead, and his fists had curled angrily. “I hope to God you’re right.”
Chapter Twelve
By the time Colton knocked on the front door, Cassie had already been waiting fifteen minutes. She flew down the stairs, the skirt of her silk dress billowing behind her like a trailing scarlet cloud.
At the door she paused, took in a long, steadying breath, then turned the knob.
Colton stood under the porch light. His dark hair gleamed, and he looked totally uncomfortable in a dark gray suit, starched white shirt and crimson tie. If not for the jaded glint in his eyes and the cynical twist of his lips, she might not have believed this dashing man to be the irreverent rogue of her dreams.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed her from head to toe.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she quipped, though a nervous knot tightened in her stomach as she reached in the closet for her long black coat. She felt self-conscious with her hair twined away from her face in delicate French braids, her silk dress much more sophisticated than any she’d ever owned, her impractical high-heeled shoes.
Outside, the spring night was warm. A warm wind stole through the shadows, rushing around the corners of the buildings and soughing through the trees. Stars winked brightly, and beams from a half-moon washed the earth in blue-gray incandescence.
“Don’t you have to say goodbye to your father?” Colton asked.
She shook her head. “Already did.”
“He’s not going? I thought every rancher in a four-county area was invited.”
Cassie settled one shoulder against the passenger door. “He’s staying with Sylvia, who’s due to drop her foal anytime.”
Colton didn’t respond as he drove onto the main highway and turned west. They rode in silence until the Edwards’s ranch came into view. One of the largest spreads in the state, Nate Edwards’s ranch sprawled as far as the eye could see. The house, a plantation-style home that looked as if it belonged in Virginia, stood in stark relief against the black night. With white siding, brick facing, bow windows and blue shutters, the Edwards’s home rose three full stories and was ablaze with lights. Cars, pickups and four-wheel drive rigs lined the circular drive.
“I guess I’d better warn you,” Colton said as he parked, “Denver and Tessa got home today. They’ll be here.”
Though she felt a nervous jolt at the thought of meeting Colton’s judgmental older brother, she tossed her head. “Why the warning?”
“Denver can be—”
“I know how Denver can be,” she shot back. “A lot like you.” With a sweet smile, she opened her side of his Jeep and stepped outside. She heard Colton’s chuckle and pretended that her nerves weren’t stretched tight.
Colton caught up with her on the brick steps just as she rang the bell. Laughter and conversation sifted through the closed windows.
Colton tucked his arm around her waist. “You know,” she said, hearing footsteps approaching, “I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Never.” He squeezed her, and she couldn’t help but grin.
“You haven’t been around the ranch lately.”
“Because of Denver. I had to talk to his attorney in Helena and get a few things ready ... besides,” he glanced down at her, and the hand against the small of her back felt suddenly warm, “I thought you wanted a little time to think things through.”
“I did—”
The door flew open, and Paula Edwards, her red hair piled high on her head, abdomen protruding roundly, waved them inside. “Colton and Cassie! Come in, come in. Here, Nate, take Cassie’s coat.”
A burly, muscular man whose dark hair was shot with gray, Nate Edwards was fifteen years older than his young wife. He sported a gold-capped tooth and a recently added mustache. Wearing a western-cut suit and string tie, he reached for Cassie’s coat and hung it in the closet. “How’re things going?” he asked Colton.
“Better. Denver got back today.”
“So now you can take off again, eh?” Nate asked, clapping Colton on the back. “You never were one to sit around much.”
Colton slid a heart-stopping glance to Cassie. “Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Sure you have,” Nate agreed with a throaty chuckle. “I’ll believe that when palm trees sprout in the Rockies. Come on in and let me buy you a drink.” He led them into a huge living room where other guests mingled and sipped from tulip-shaped glasses. Quiet conversation was muted by the sound of music drifting from an adjoining room.
