Page 33 of River Wild

“We’ll talk next week. This is an exciting time for you. Enjoy it.”

Bailey laughed as she disconnected.Excitingwas putting it mildly.

Her father tapped on her window. “You coming in the house?”

Was she? She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to talk to her. She could just drive off. Or not. She cut the engine, and he stepped back as she climbed out, dragging her large satchel with her. She saw him look at the bag and then her in question for a moment.

“We need to talk about Stuart,” he said.

“Why?” she asked as she started toward the house. She wasn’t having this conversation out in the front yard. She could see Pickett over by the corrals working with Holly Jo on one of horseback riding tricks. The girl believed she could be a world-famous trick rider and was determined to make it happen.

Bailey actually admired the thirteen-year-old—not that she’d had anything to do with her since Holden had brought her back to the ranch to live. She was in no place to take the girl under her wing, let alone giggle while they painted each other’s nails.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t notice Holly Jo had grit, something Bailey was sure her father also admired. She remembered when he’d looked at her with awe the way he did Holly Jo. But that was a long time ago, back when there was a reason to have high hopes for her, she thought as she entered the ranch house, her father close behind.

He motioned her into his office-den. “Sit down,” he ordered, then softened his tone as he took a chair behind his desk. “Please, Bailey.”

She felt like a petulant child as she slumped into a chair across from his desk. She just wanted this over. The news she’d gotten this morning felt as if it had made that already ticking clock tick faster. Now it ticked in time with her pounding heart. She didn’t have any time to waste, especially in some futile attempt to explain herself.

“Tell me about you and Stuart,” he said as he leaned forward, folding his large, weathered hands in front of him.

“There is no me and Stuart.” Not really, not yet. “When and if there is, I’ll let you know.”

He narrowed his gaze at her. “You spend time with him.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Damn it, Bailey, he told me that he’s in love with you.”

She’d have rather heard that from Stuart under other circumstances, she thought. Not that she hadn’t known how he felt about her. But for so long, she hadn’t felt...lovable, so she had questioned how he possibly could love her—especially when he didn’t understand her secrets. “He barely knows me.”

“He’s known you your whole life!”

She had no answer for that. Her father didn’t know her either, but he didn’t seem to realize it.

“What is going on with you?” he demanded, losing his patience.

“Nothing.” She met his gaze, having become good at lying, even to herself.

Holden shook his head, his tone softening again. “I feel like you’re angry at me.”

“What would I have to be angry at you about?” she asked.

Silence filled the room. He closed his eyes as if in pain, making her wish she could take it back, take it all back, especially her misplaced anger at him.

She got to her feet. For a moment, she searched for words to make it better, but couldn’t find any.

“Please be careful,” he said, dismissing her. “I worry about you.”

“Me too,” she said as she went upstairs to get a change of clothes before she left again.

THIRTY-FIVE,TREYTONMCKENNAhad longish dark hair and amazing blue eyes, much like his sister Bailey. Stuart figured Willow found the cowboy handsome. She might have taken his arrogance for confidence. More than likely, he wouldn’t have shown her his rotten side—at least, not at first.

“Nice to see you, Sheriff,” Treyton said as the men with the weapons got back into their van and left.

“Seems my timing worked out well for you. Want to tell me about it?”

Holden’s son smiled. “Nothing to tell.”

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