Rancher's Dream Read online

  Like the rest of the house, everything was white from the marble floor to the white shag rug and the duvet on the bed and the sheets. Even the throw pillows were white. It was blinding. Her brain cried out for color. Surely Ethan would let her add at least some colorful pillows, but as she thought it, she recalled him saying that he doubted she would need to add or change anything.

  She shook her head. This was so not like any life she’d ever imagined. She felt ill-prepared for it, but determined that she would adjust. Ethan was a kind and caring man. A busy businessman. But he loved her. She would help him in any way she could to run this house.

  Right now it felt overwhelming, though.

  She turned to look out the wall of windows. Ethan had said they would be able to see out but no one would be able to see in. She still felt exposed. She could see the lights of town. In the other direction she could almost see the Cahill ranch house.

  Feeling even more nauseated, she stepped into the bathroom that was obviously hers according to the monogrammed white towels. She stood for a moment realizing the bathroom was almost larger than her old apartment. Not only that, but also everything was so modern that she wasn’t sure she would even know how to turn on the faucet let alone flush the toilet.

  Ethan had paid someone to move all of her personal items. In the walk-in closet, she found more clothes than she’d ever owned. Nothing looked like her style, though, she thought. Ethan had said she would need a new wardrobe so on their trips, he’d insisted they pick up a few things. A few things, indeed. She couldn’t imagine wearing half of the designer gowns he’d bought her. Apparently she would, in fact, be doing a lot of entertaining.

  She thought of how she used to entertain friends at her apartment. Chips and dip, shoes kicked off as they sprawled in their blue jeans and T-shirts. Strange, but she felt an ache at the sweet memory of those times. Gone now. Gone forever.

  In several of the drawers, though, she was happy to see her jeans and some favorite tops, as well as her cowboy boots next to the high heels in the shoe slots. Good thing she wasn’t required to dress up all the time. That was a relief. As a librarian at the local small library, she’d worn jeans and blouses with a blazer to work, since this was Montana and that had been as dressy as most people got.

  Ethan, on the other hand, always wore a suit—even when in Gilt Edge, where only lawyers and undertakers dressed like that. Maybe she could encourage him to try to fit in more, she thought. Or not. He didn’t seem open to change, let alone what she feared he would see as criticism.

  Pushing those thoughts away, she changed into the beautiful ivory silk nightgown with a flowing matching robe that had been laid out for her. As she stood in front of the full-length mirror, she swept her hair back over her shoulders and grabbed a lock to stare down at it. Hawk had loved her hair, as well. He said it was like a sunset. She tossed the lock back, telling herself she had to quit reminiscing.

  She just wished she felt better. Her stomach was bothering her and she felt woozy. She continued to stare at herself in the mirror as if seeing a stranger. She looked pale, her brown eyes huge. She pinched her cheeks to get some color back into them and then turned to her dressing room table to find some blush and a touch of lipstick. She’d never worn a lot of makeup.

  As she applied a little tinted lip gloss, she caught her reflection again. The pallor of her face brought back that stupid premonition. You will die in this house.

  She shivered and glanced at her phone to check the time, anxious now for Ethan to join her. Back in the bedroom, she opened the wine and poured Ethan a glass. He’d thoughtfully left her a bottle of the sparkling water she loved. She still felt off balance and was glad she wasn’t even tempted to try the wine. Alcohol was the last thing she needed.

  She took a sip of the sparkling water just to humor her husband. She knew he would ask her if she had some since he’d left it for her. She didn’t want to start off her marriage lying. The least she could do was drink a little.

  She tried to relax. She’d been more than tense. She finished the glass and poured herself a little more for a toast when Ethan arrived.

  But after another fifteen minutes and no Ethan, she lay down on the bed to wait. Nervous exhaustion pulled at her along with that light-headed feeling that had been with her for some time now. The day had been long and stressful, especially the reception where she’d been introduced to so many of Ethan’s business associates and friends. Top that off with her new husband telling her they would be staying in his house overlooking Gilt Edge instead of moving to New York City.

  She felt as if she was floating. Maybe she would just close her eyes to rest until Ethan joined her.

  Hours later, she woke to find the sun streaming in the windows. She lay on top of the bed in the French silk nightgown—alone in the huge bed. She reached out to find Ethan’s side empty—and cold. Her head ached as she lifted it to confirm that Ethan’s side was still neatly made. He hadn’t slept next to her.

  She sat up with a start. Her head swam and she had to hold on to the duvet for a moment. Ethan’s wineglass was next to the bed, still full. Her water glass was the only one used.

  With a jolt, she realized that she’d spent her wedding night alone.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ETHAN HADN’T JOINED her last night? A bad feeling rippled through her as she got up and quickly dressed to go looking for her husband. She told herself that he’d gotten busy with the mechanical problem in the house. Or that it had been so late he’d stayed in one of the guest rooms so as not to disturb her.

  But none of that could ease her growing concern. What man didn’t join his wife on their wedding night? He’d said he was going to check something and come up right away. Maybe he’d found her out cold and... She bit down on her lower lip to fight off her disappointment. She’d needed him last night. Needed reassurance. He’d thrown her so many curveballs since she’d met him... What excuse could he have for not at least spending their first night as man and wife in their bed together?

  Drey shook off all the excuses because there were none that she could accept. It had been their wedding night in their new home. He should have at least come up to check on her. From what she could tell, he’d never even come into the bedroom. His bathroom had looked untouched, as did his walk-in closet and dressing area.

  She took the same route she had the night before, stopping on each floor to call his name. Her theory that he might have found her dead asleep and decided not to disturb her by sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms proved wrong. There was no sign of him in any of the bedrooms—nor did any of the beds look as if they’d been slept in. Ethan wasn’t the kind of man to make his own bed—let alone leave it as perfect as he’d found it. He’d always had hired help to do that for him.

  When she reached the kitchen, she’d hoped to smell freshly brewed coffee so she could quit worrying about him. It would have relieved her mind, but done little to dampen her disappointment to find him hard at work at the small table in the sunroom, a cup of coffee in front of him and his cell phone at his ear. That was how she often found him the few times they’d spent the night together.

  But not only wasn’t Ethan in the sprawling kitchen and sunroom, there was also no coffee made. Her stomach growled. She glanced at her watch, shocked that she’d slept so late. It was almost noon. Was it possible Ethan had stayed up all night?

  Maybe he’d gone into town for breakfast. The thought hurt her. Not only hadn’t they spent their wedding night together, but they wouldn’t be having breakfast together either? Surely he would have changed out of his wedding clothes. Was it possible he’d used the dressing room in the walk-in closet without her hearing him—or him leaving any sign?

  She moved to the bank of windows and looked out on the valley. The car was where Ethan had parked it the night before. She felt relieved. He would know that his leaving without a word would upset her. This was t
heir honeymoon, such as it was.

  “I can’t leave right now, but I promise in a week or two we will have the most amazing honeymoon,” he’d assured her.

  Given the whirlwind romance, she already felt as if they’d been on their honeymoon so she hadn’t minded. In fact, she’d been looking forward to settling in and getting to explore New York City. She’d been excited to nest for a while.

  Looking around the kitchen, she realized she would have to adjust her plan and settle in here. This ultramodern house was certainly not what she’d expected. Just as she hadn’t expected to wake up alone. She pushed that disappointment away, feeling guilty. Look at this amazing place. She was a lucky woman. She could hear her friends from the library telling her that just yesterday at the wedding.

  “You’ve married Prince Charming,” one of them had said with a laugh. “Don’t you just have to pinch yourself?”

  So where was her amazing prince? She wandered on down to the front entrance where they’d come in last night. As she did, she saw the pond, the surface shimmering in the morning sunlight, and felt another shudder. Even in the daylight, it reminded her of that awful premonition.

  Fortunately, in the light of day, she didn’t believe in premonitions, she told herself as she took in the view. She could see the small Western town of Gilt Edge sparkling in the sun. Surrounded on four sides by four different mountain ranges, she could see why Ethan had wanted to build here. The view really was impressive. All the wide-open spaces and the towering mountain peaks still capped with snow even in early summer.

  “Ethan?” she called, turning back to look up toward the other levels of the meandering house. He could be anywhere in this maze of rooms. Or he could be outside on the fifty acres he owned of this mountaintop next to even more acres of forest service land.

  She turned to the windows again and looked toward the Cahill Ranch. It was almost literally a stone’s throw away—if you shot the rock out of a cannon. But still so close. Which meant it was only a matter of time before she ran into Hawk.

  That thought did nothing to make things better.

  It took her a while to figure out the high-tech coffee maker and put on a pot, telling herself that Ethan would show up. Maybe he’d gone for a walk. That didn’t seem like him, but maybe he was a different man up here on the mountain.

  Stepping onto one of the balconies on this level, she looked out to a spot that had been cleared for a stable. She’d forgotten that Ethan planned to buy horses once they were settled in.

  “You ride, don’t you?” he’d asked.

  “Yes.” Hawk had taught her, taking her on horseback rides up to his favorite mountain lake for picnics and swimming in the freezing cold water, then lying with her on the huge flat rocks in the sun until their clothing dried.

  “Yes, I ride,” she’d said, trying to show more enthusiasm. But it had seemed so wasteful to purchase horses at the house they would only occasionally visit when in Montana. Now she realized that he’d never planned for them to live in New York City. He’d let her believe they would be moving into the penthouse knowing that he’d already sold it. Because he wanted to surprise her with the house? Or because he’d changed his mind at some point and merely failed to inform her?

  So why did she feel like there was more going on than he’d told her? She shoved the thought away, hating that she was finding fault with Ethan. He’d already given her so much. She had a new wardrobe in the closet. And now she lived in this...mansion on the mountainside. She could have anything she wanted, he’d told her. Just name it.

  So why couldn’t she throw off that ominous feeling that something was wrong—and was about to get worse?

  Angry with herself and the path her thoughts had taken, she started to turn back to the kitchen and her coffee when she spotted a red sports car coming up the paved private road.

  * * *

  WITH THE SCENT of her Texas chili in the air, Billie Dee Rhodes turned to see one of the co-owners of the Stagecoach Saloon come in the back door with her arms empty.

  “What? No baby?” Billie Dee joked as she dried her hands and stepped away from the stove. “You know I told you not to show your face around here without that adorable son of yours.” She stopped, realizing Lillie Cahill Beaumont was in no joking mood today. “Honey, what is it?”

  Tears filled the young woman’s eyes as she stepped into the cook’s ample arms. “It’s Hawk.”

  Billie Dee hugged her tightly. “He’s not—”

  Lillie shook her head.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. She felt blessed that she’d become like a part of the Cahill family. It broke her heart to see any of them hurting. “What’s he done now?”

  “Nothing!” Lillie cried, pulling back. “That’s the problem. You know Drey got married.”

  She nodded. Everyone in the county knew since the wedding had been a huge production. She also knew that Hawk and Dierdre “Drey” Hunter had been an item in high school as well as college before breaking up. Lillie had always thought they would get back together.

  “How is Hawk taking it?” Billie Dee asked.

  Lillie shook her head. “He’s upset, but he has only himself to blame.”

  “What would you have had him do? Storm the wedding?”

  “Why not? Maybe all she needs is for him to show her how much he loves her.”

  Older and wiser, Billie Dee suspected that was naive. Whatever had broken them up was enough that the two hadn’t gotten back together after all these years. “Well, it appears there isn’t anything that can be done now.”

  Lillie didn’t seem to hear. “She’s going to be living here in Gilt Edge. Well, up on that mountain.”

  “In Baxter Folly?”

  “Is that what people call it? When I told Hawk, I could tell he was upset. We all thought she was going to be living in New York City. But at the reception Ethan Baxter announced they would be living at Mountain Crest.” Lillie made a face and, drying her eyes, looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to go.” She stepped into Billie Dee’s open arms again and after another hug, left.

  “Was that Lillie?” Ashley Jo Somerfield said as she came trotting down from the upstairs apartment and into the kitchen of the old stagecoach stop. She’d moved in there after Lillie’s twin and the co-owner of the saloon, Darby Cahill, and his bride, Mariah, moved into their new house with their new baby son. “And is that Texas chili I smell cooking?” She smiled as she brushed past Billie Dee to look into the huge pot on the stove.

  Laughing, Billie Dee watched the young woman pick up a spoon and carefully stir the chili. She couldn’t help remembering the first time she’d seen her. Ashley Jo had come in looking for a job. Billie Dee’s heart had almost stopped. She’d thought Ashley Jo was the daughter she’d given up for adoption twenty-six years ago. The young woman certainly could have been—there was that much resemblance between a young Billie Dee and Ashley Jo.

  But it turned out not to be true. Their DNA hadn’t matched. Not that Ashley Jo knew anything about that. Since then, though, Billie Dee had been teaching her to cook and enjoying every moment she’d spent with her.

  “May I?” Ashley Jo asked, motioning to the chili.

  “Of course. Get yourself a bowl,” the cook said with a laugh. “What Texas girl wouldn’t want chili for breakfast? You’re as bad as me.”

  Ashley Jo grinned at her as she got a bowl down and filled it with a ladle of the chili. “Have you heard anything on the recipe contest?”

  “You mean the one you forced me to enter? No, and don’t get your hopes up,” she said as she joined the young woman at the table after pouring them both cups of coffee. Billie Dee hadn’t wanted to enter the contest but Ashley Jo had insisted.

  “You’re going to win, hands down,” the young woman said and took a bite of chili. She closed her eyes and made a yum sound, making Billie Dee laugh.


  She hadn’t found her daughter. Or more to the point, her daughter hadn’t found her yet. With the help of her fiancé, Billie Dee had her DNA up on the adoption site, so now if her daughter wanted to find her... But so far, her daughter hadn’t. She tried not to think about it, but it was hard not to.

  The back door swung open on a gust of summer air. She looked up and smiled as her fiancé, Henry Larson, came through the door. Billie Dee had joked that she had come to Montana to find herself a cowboy, but at her age, she’d never guessed that one would come into her life. Fortunately, this handsome rancher had done just that.

  Henry was eager for the two of them to get married. As much as she wanted that, too, her dream was that her daughter might be at their wedding. Or at least she would have met her and been able to tell her how much she loved her and that she’d never wanted to give her up.

  She started to rise to pour Henry a cup of coffee, but he waved her back down, saying he could get it himself. Billie Dee watched him, seeing a change in his manner this morning that told her something had happened.

  As if sensing the mood had changed, Ashley Jo grabbed her bowl and excused herself, saying she needed to do something in the bar. She took off down the hall, closing the door behind her.

  “What’s wrong?” Billie Dee asked as Henry turned from the stove, coffee cup in hand.

  “It’s your daughter.”

  Her heart lodged in her throat. All those years ago when she’d been forced to give her baby up for adoption she’d dreamed that one day they might be reunited.

  “She contacted the adoption site. Her DNA’s a match.”

  * * *

  AFTER A RESTLESS, nightmare-filled night, Hawk woke determined to get on with his life. A door had closed, one that he told himself could never open again. He’d thought it would be a relief. He and Drey could both move on now. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted? To put the past behind them? Find peace finally?