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“I suppose I deserved that.”
“What is it you want, Tessa?”
You, her heart thundered. Just you!
“If you want the ranch, I’ll sell it to you. If you want Colton’s share, I’ll convince him you’re the right buyer. If you need money, I’ll loan it to you. Whatever it is that will make you happy . . .”
She tried not to shake, Her heart wrenched. “The ranch is all I’ve ever wanted,” she whispered, her tongue tripping on the lie. Tell him! Tell him you love him! a part of her cried, but pride kept her silent.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Let me handle Colton.” He kissed the nape of her neck. A shiver darted quickly up her spine to linger at the spot where he’d brushed his lips across her skin.
“Let’s go,” she murmured.
Denver yanked viciously on the tie still knotted at his throat, then threw his jacket into the back seat. After rolling his sleeves over his forearms, he helped Tessa into the car, then slid behind the wheel.
For most of the drive, they didn’t speak. The late afternoon sun descended slowly behind the rocky peaks to the west, streaking the sky in a blaze of pink and gold.
Tessa closed her eyes. She pushed her worries aside and leaned back in the seat, letting the heat of the day settle around her as Denver drove steadily north. Dusk had just shaded the sky when they passed her father’s cottage and the lane to the McLean Ranch came into view.
“Almost home,” Tessa murmured.
“Not yet.” Denver said quietly. He stepped on the throttle, passing the lane.
“What’re you doing?” Tessa asked, surprised.
He smiled crookedly. “I thought we deserved a detour.” A quarter of a mile past the lane, he cranked hard on the wheel. The car responded, lurching onto the old silver mining road. Barely more than twin ruts in the bleached grass, the tracks curved, snaking along the banks of the Sage River and the Aldridge property before climbing the gentle slope of the surrounding foothills.
“Where’re we going?” Tessa asked, though she had already guessed. This road led not only to the abandoned mine, but to the ridge where she and Denver had first made love. Nervously she reached for the handle of the car door, wrapping her fingers around the armrest.
The little car bumped and spun, leaving a cloud of dust. Denver had to flip on the lights as shadows lengthened stealthily through the trees. “I just wanted to see this place again.”
“Nothing’s changed,” she said, her stomach knotting, her palms beginning to sweat. She’d been up to the ridge more times than she wanted to count, remembering how wonderful that afternoon had been before the smell of smoke and the crackle of flames had clouded the clear air and altered the course of their lives forever.
The road gave way to a clearing, and he parked, switching off the lights. Only the moon and stars illuminated the night, turning the dry grass opalescent. Two small shacks, sagging now from disuse, were the last reminders of the silver that had existed only in John McLean’s dreams.
Denver climbed out of the car and stretched, rubbing his shoulder muscles.
Tessa joined him. “What is it they say about never going back?” she asked, hoping to sound lighthearted though her heart continued to beat unevenly.
“If they’re talking about L.A., they’re wrong.” He strode swiftly through the stubble, ignoring the rambling blackberry vines and weeds clutching at his pants. He made his way up a short path to the ridge.
She scrambled after him. “I was talking about coming back here.” A bramble pulled at her skirt, a branch tugged at her hair, but she closed the distance, catching Denver just at the edge of the cliff.
Majestic pines towered high overhead, their long needled branches soughing in the soft summer breeze. And the valley floor, in contrast to the dark trees, shifted restlessly under the moonlight. Cattle dotted the landscape, dark lumbering shapes against the moonlit grass. Its windows glowing with square patches of light, the main house was visible, as was the winding Sage River, a moon-washed ribbon reflecting a wide canopy of twinkling stars. Far in the distance, the lights of her father’s house shone gold in an otherwise silvery night.
“How can you leave this place?” she wondered aloud.
He stared down at her. “It’s not the land I’m leaving,” he said quietly. “Nor the work. Leaving the ranching life behind is easy.” His fingers were gentle on her arms. “What’s hard is leaving you.”
Tessa’s breath expelled in a rush. She could barely believe her ears. And she wouldn’t. Words were easy. Too easy. She’d heard them before. “You don’t have to leave.”
“What I don’t have to do is repeat a conversation we had a long time ago.”
Her heart squeezed wretchedly at the memories of their arguments, long dead. Now, as before, nothing she could say would stop him. He was willing to sell her this part of his past, the dust, the trees, the stream and buildings, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, give her the one thing she wanted most—his love.
Angry with herself for loving him when he didn’t care, she turned, unable to face him. She stared across the valley floor. But he placed one finger under her chin and pushed it upward, forcing her gaze to meet his. Her pulse trembled in her throat, and before she could say a word, he lowered his head and kissed her. Long and hard and hot, the kiss touched the very deepest part of her soul. His tongue slid familiarly past her teeth, his hands unwound her braid.
Her hair tumbled free in a twisted cloud that fell past her shoulders.
