Page 87 of Backlash


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cross Mitch’s features. “Oh, Tess—”

Tessa wanted to run from the barn. Her words sounded strangled and forced. “Don’t ‘Oh, Tess,’ me—okay? Things are going to work out just fine!”

“I hope so,” Mitch said fervently. “I just don’t see how. You know, there’s a chance Denver won’t locate his brother. Or that Colton won’t come back here. He’s got himself a hot-shot photography job all full of glitter and danger. He won’t want to come back.”

“But he might sell.”

“And he might not.”

Tessa’s world was breaking apart. If only Denver were here! If only her brother and father could see the real Denver, the man hidden deep beneath his scars from the fire. And yet, her family’s accusations held a ring of truth. Inside, her heart was shredding. Hot tears clogged her throat. “You two are as bad as Denver and Colton,” she accused, her voice a whisper. “You don’t trust them, and they don’t trust you.”

“So whose side are you on?” Mitch asked.

“Believe it or not, there don’t have to be sides.”

“Oh, Tess, grow up. This isn’t some female fantasy.” She gasped, feeling as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Hadn’t Denver said just the same thing—hadn’t he accused her of being a dreamer, a hopeless romantic? Sick inside, she ran from the barn, leaving her family and their horrid accusations of Denver behind. She’d call Denver, and if he didn’t answer, she’d call his office. If that didn’t work, she’d call Jim Van Stern. Once she heard from Denver everything would be all right.

Desperate, she ran into the house and dialed Denver’s number in Venice. The phone rang twelve times before she hung up. It was late, but she called Denver’s engineering firm. A tape machine answered on the third ring. She left a message for Denver and told herself not to worry. She’d hear from him in the morning.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Ms. Kramer, but all I know is that Denver took off in a hurry. He left a message on the recorder and said that he’d call in as soon as possible. I assumed he was in Montana,” Jim Van Stern said over the hum of the long distance connection.

Tessa’s heart sank and the headache behind her eyes began to throb.

“Have you called his attorney in Helena?” Jim asked. “I don’t know all the details, but he was hell-bent to sell the ranch. I just assumed this had something to do with the sale.”

“I’ve spoken with Ross Anderson,” Tessa said, remembering her telephone conversation with the young lawyer. “He hasn’t heard a word.”

“It’s not like Denver,” Van Stern remarked.

Tessa knew she was grasping at straws, that the possibility that Denver had heard from Colton was remote, but nothing else made any sense. She asked, “Could he have left because of his brother? He said he wanted to stay in L.A. until he heard from Colton.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I don’t think they’ve seen each other in years. Ever since that fire.”

“Right,” Tessa said, sick with worry. She stared out the kitchen window and wondered where Denver was. Why hadn’t he called again? “If he phones you, please ask him to call me.”

“Will do,” Van Stern said before hanging up.

Tessa leaned against the wall. Her stomach rumbled. Her head was pounding, she ached all over. She hadn’t slept well. She’d only dozed, and her dreams, when she had drifted off, had been filled with Denver. They’d been lying on the sand, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, the water lapping at her skirt, and he’d kissed her, long and hard, only stopping to vow that he loved her—

“Tessa?” a female voice called, accompanied by pounding on the front door.

“Coming!” Tessa hurried down the hall, swung open the door and found Cassie Aldridge standing on the front porch.

“Hi. Mitch called Craig yesterday.”

“He did?” Tessa said before remembering.

Cassie nodded. “He had a couple of calves he wanted me to check out.”

“Oh, right. They’re in the barn. I’ll come with you.”

“I can find my way,” Cassie offered with a smile. “Isn’t that where I examined Brigadier?”

“Yes.”

Cassie’s black hair gleamed in the afternoon sun. “I was at the Edwards ranch the other day,” she said as they walked toward the barn. “Brigadier’s as good as new.”

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