Page 12 of Rocky Mountain


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Come to think of it, had her behavior been all that different at the memorial when she’d allowed Drake to rile her so much she threatened not to cater Emma’s wedding? Hadn’t she learned anything in the last five years? Wasn’t she a more responsible, level-headed woman than the one who’d left Catamount back then?

By the time she slipped on her boots and headed out the back door again, Fleur acknowledged that Drake had done her wrong, and she had every right to be angry about that. But she couldn’t deny that when she thought about the past, the bigger anger she saved for herself.

With a shift of his knee, Drake nudged Pearl, his paint mare, closer to a feeder creek for the White River. Careful to avoid a patch of new wetland plants, he slowed Pearl’s pace so he could withdraw his phone to take some photos of the area. The difference in the plant growth along the creek here, versus farther south after the waterway passed through the Crooked Elm rangelands, was dramatic.

He’d been working with the local conservancy group on better land management practices to bring the wetlands back these past three years. The efforts were time intensive, but the long-term benefits couldn’t be overstated. If only Antonia Barclay had agreed.

Because it sure seemed like her stubborn granddaughter would never even hear him out. Too much bad blood for them to hold a civil conversation for more than five minutes. He huffed out a long exhale at the thought of Fleur, wondering if Colin would ever return his calls about her. Taking a gamble, he switched his phone out of camera mode and hit the button to dial his brother’s number.

Again.

He’d already left messages. Texted. He hated that his relationship with his younger brother had disintegrated to this point, where they only spoke a couple of times a year. After their falling-out over Fleur, Colin had relocated to Montana, where he’d attended college.

“Drake?” Colin’s voice in his ear surprised him after the radio silence this whole week. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, things are fine here.” No surprise Colin would worry that something was wrong in the family since Drake hardly ever checked in. “Thanks for picking up. I’ve been trying to reach you all week.”

He heard the judgment in his voice, but it was too late to scrub it out now. He tipped his head to view the cloudless blue sky, breathing in the cooler, pine-scented air blowing off the mountains to the east. This place had a way of calming him down and soothing the raw patches inside. He’d never leave this land that his parents had worked with their own hands, land they’d died trying to better.

“I figured I’d call you on the weekend,” Colin muttered, a distant buzz sounding in the background of the call. A tractor, maybe. “We did a big gather this week and needed some outside hands, so I’ve been overseeing a lot.”

Drake understood that moving a big herd over rough range could be time-consuming. He wished—not for the first time—that his brother had bought land closer to home. What was Drake pushing himself for to expand the Alexander Ranch operation if not for the benefit of Alexanders?

But he stuffed down those thoughts to focus on why he’d called. He urged Pearl away from the creek bed to head toward home. “Sorry to pester you. But a question has come up for me this week now that Fleur Barclay is back in Catamount.”

The answering silence felt heavy. Hostile?

He hoped not. They hadn’t spoken of her in five years. Unbidden, an image of Colin and Fleur laughing together over a basket of puppies flashed through his head. The foreman’s Great Pyrenees, Myrtle, had birthed a litter and Colin had invited Fleur over to play with the pups. It had been the first—the only time—he’d seen the two of them together as a couple. The image had burned into him even then.

“Emma told me about Fleur’s return,” Colin said finally, voice even. If he still had feelings for Fleur, Drake couldn’t have guessed it from his tone. “And I was sorry to hear about Antonia’s passing.” He paused a long moment before continuing. “You mentioned a question?”

“Fleur said something the other night, after her grandmother’s memorial, that made me think there was more to your engagement than what you told me.” He recalled her expression perfectly, pretty gray eyes full of distress and anger. Her expressive mouth pulled into an unhappy frown.

The split from Colin had upset her deeply. Was it just because they were so in love? The idea bothered him. Made him wonder if he’d read the situation all wrong back then. He’d been so sure they weren’t right for each other, even if shehadn’tbeen marrying Colin for the payout.

“First of all, my brother, that’s not a question.” Colin’s voice had an edge. “Secondly you’ll have to ask her if you want to know more about that subject. And if that’s all you needed, I’ve got a pasture full of protective mama cows and calves that need moving.”

“Wait—” Drake had a follow-up question, but his phone screen showed the call had already ended.

He shoved the device into the pocket of his jeans and was about to nudge Pearl faster when movement from a clearing caught his eye. Turning, he spied a distinctly feminine form in a bright red T-shirt and jean cutoffs heading toward him, a basket over one arm.

Fleur.

Her hair blew around her shoulders, the color more blond than red in the sunlight. And the T-shirt she wore didn’t quite reach the waistband of her shorts, a sliver of skin visible as she moved toward him. What was it about that narrow strip of skin that mesmerized him? He wanted to slide his palms around her there, feel that smooth skin against his hands as he crushed her to him.

He could deny wanting her—and he’d tried that, damn it, he’dtried—but that had never eased his fascination with this woman. For a moment, he let the truth of that knowledge wash over him, wishing they could have met under different circumstances, without all the baggage of their shared past.

And his brother’s old claim on her.

Standing still as she picked her way along the path between the ranches, Drake was grateful for how long it took her to close the distance between them. It took him every second of that time to get command of himself.

“I was on my way to Alexander Ranch to offer an olive branch,” she announced once she neared him, her eyes fixed on Pearl and not him. “What a gorgeous horse you have. May I say hello to her?”

Wary of her motive behind a peace offering, Drake still needed to accept it when he had questions for her.

“Of course.” He lifted his leg over the mare’s back and slid to the ground. “This is Pearl, daughter to one of my mother’s favorite mares, Black Pearl.”

He didn’t speak of his parents often, but he thought Fleur might recall the animal. And maybe the topic was his own attempt at a truce, reminding her of a time before the animosity between them.

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