The Bull Rider's Homecoming (7 page)

“That sounds like a lot of fun, but I have chores to do before dark, so today's not a good day.”

“Well, maybe another time,” Kristen said easily.

Annie opened the door and Trace reached over her to take hold of the edge, holding it while the girls walked in under his arm. Once inside, he took off his hat and glanced around.

“I've never seen the place dry.”

Annie couldn't help but smile.

“It hasn't been wet in
days
,” Katie told him proudly.

“True story,” Annie replied. The house felt different with him there, just as her car had felt different.
She
felt different...and as she went for her tool kit, she couldn't help but wonder whether she had the same effect on Trace.

* * *

T
RACE
FOLLOWED
A
NNIE
down the stairs into a neatly kept stone-walled cellar. There were wooden shelves along the two side walls, which held rows of home canning. Along the wall opposite the staircase stood a hot water tank, a small chest freezer and the oil furnace.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked as she set her book and a box on the freezer. He put the tool kit he carried for her beside the box.

“No.”

He smiled but did not reply. After flipping off the main electrical breaker and then testing the circuit to make certain it was indeed dead, Annie propped open the book, opened the tool kit and then pulled the new blower motor out of the box. Trace glanced over the book while he waited for Annie to familiarize herself with the new motor, and decided that it was a fairly straightforward job. He had a feeling her mechanical abilities exceeded his own, so he saw no need to offer suggestions simply for the sake of conversation. With a frown of concentration creasing her forehead, Annie removed the old motor, disconnecting wires and unfastening the mounting screws. Once it was free, she looked it over and then set it aside.

“I can't tell you how much I hope this is the problem because if it isn't, then I haven't got a clue.”

She picked up the new motor and proceeded to wire it in and then screw it to the mounting.

When she was finished, she wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans and then carefully set the screwdriver and socket set back into her toolbox.

“This is the scary part,” Annie said as she went back to the breaker box. “I have this fear of wiring something wrong and setting the house on fire. That's why I have more than the average amount of smoke detectors.”

“It didn't look like there were too many areas for you to mess up on this job.”

“No, thank goodness.” She flipped the breaker and then punched a red button on the furnace panel. A few seconds later the pilot lit and then the furnace came to life. “My other fear is that the furnace will somehow catch fire. It's not logical, but it concerns me.”

“It seems to be running well,” Trace said.

“It always ran well right after I restarted it.” She dusted her hands off then glanced over at him. “This was easier than I thought it would be. I'm sorry that I dragged you over here.”

He wasn't. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Maybe.”

“I had nothing better to do.”

“If you say so.”

“I like watching you work.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And I promised I would take off once the furnace was running,” he added.

Was that a whisper of disappointment he read on her face?

Maybe...

The girls were waiting at the top of the stairs when Annie opened the cellar door. They high-fived their mom, and Trace grinned as they went to stand on the heater vents when the furnace began to blow.

“No more dollar eating,” Katie announced.

“Just the normal amount of dollar eating,” Annie corrected before shooting a look Trace's way.

Dismissed?

“Well...those chores are waiting,” he said.

“We can play a game next time you come by,” Kristen assured him.

Trace crouched down in front of her, feeling only a little awkward as he said, “I look forward to that. And it was a lot of fun riding with you guys today.”

“We're not guys. We're girls,” Kristen informed him.

“I stand corrected,” Trace said as he got to his feet. Tough crowd.

“I'll walk you to your truck,” Annie said.

Escorted from the premises. So much for that whisper of disappointment he'd thought he saw cross her face. Maybe he was the one who was disappointed. But he'd promised to leave as soon as the furnace was fixed and he was a man of his word.

Annie slipped into her coat and followed Trace out of the house. The air was still brisk from the storm, but the setting sun cast warm golden light over Annie's neatly kept yard. Everything about her place was warm and homey, the exact opposite of what he knew when he'd been growing up. He hoped the twins would look back in the years ahead and appreciate the home their mother had made for them.

Trace stopped before opening his truck door and looked down at Annie, who was wearing a cool expression. The woman was hard to read. On the one hand, he thought maybe she liked him. On the other, she couldn't hurry him out of there fast enough.

“Thanks again,” she said.

“Anytime.” One corner of his mouth quirked up before he said, “I mean that, you know.”

Annie's lips compressed and she nodded, then she raised her hand and brushed her fingers against his cheek, just as he'd done to her earlier. He felt his breath catch at the light touch. Then he captured her hand with his and leaned down to take her lips in a kiss that surprised both of them. And while the kiss had been soft, his body was now hard.

Annie dropped her hand and took a step back, her blue eyes wide and cautious as they held his. “I'll see you later.” Her voice was a bit husky and she didn't wait for him to reply, but instead took another backward step then turned and walked briskly toward the house, leaving Trace staring after her.

Damn.

Chapter Seven

It all came down to what did he want and what did she want?

Annie sat up straighter and tried to pay attention to Brad Olsen, the Parent-Teacher Organization president, as he outlined the year-end school events. They'd just covered the lower elementary play and Annie had volunteered to help with costumes, and now it was on to career day. But despite her best efforts, her thoughts kept drifting back to the conundrum sparked by one simple kiss. A kiss she hadn't been expecting.

Her first kiss in what? Two years? Had it really been that long since she'd gotten an obligatory good-night kiss after an obligatory blind date with one of Danielle's friends? Yes. Two years and a few months.

So had it been just a spur-of-the-moment thing? Was Trace interested in exploring further? Was she?

It seemed as if she should know the answer to her side of the equation, but she didn't. Even though she had no definitive answer, she was becoming more and more aware of an urge to explore. To experience new things...or maybe even some old things she hadn't experienced in a long time—like dating a guy she found attractive. Did she dare?

Annie was not going to overthink this...even though she'd been overthinking it all day. Now was the time to stop.

“What do you think, Annie?”

She jerked as the mother sitting next to her whispered her name. “I, uh, was a million miles away. I'm sorry.”

“Brad just asked about canvassing the local store owners for prizes for the end-of-year family picnic.”

“I can't do both costumes and canvassing,” Annie whispered back. Last year she might have done both, but she had been working part-time at the library then. As it was, she was probably going to have to get help from Danielle to make butterfly costumes.

After the meeting broke up, Annie drove to Danielle's house to pick up the girls.

“Do you have time for a quick cup of tea?” Danielle asked. “The girls are helping Curtis in the workshop.”

“I should get home.” She was exhausted and looking forward to getting the girls bathed and in bed so that she could do the same.

“I hear you invited Mr. D'laney home to watch you work on the furnace,” Danielle said, perfectly mimicking the girls' abbreviated version of Trace's last name with an amused lift of her eyebrow. “Funny, you didn't say anything about that today at work.”

“It didn't seem important.” Annie had been fairly certain that the girls were going to spread the word, but hadn't seen much she could do about it. Telling them not to say anything would have made them curious, which would have been even worse than their happily telling Danielle that she'd invited Trace to the house. “I wanted backup for the furnace operation and—” she shrugged nonchalantly “—he is Grady's buddy.”

“Wise to have backup,” Danielle murmured. “The girls said he didn't stay very long. They seemed disappointed.”

“He stayed long enough,” Annie said mildly and left it at that. She would love to pour her guts out to Danielle and ask advice, but she wasn't ready to do that just yet. There was still a chance she was misreading things.

He kissed you.

But still...

The girls burst in through the door, followed by a slightly bedraggled Curtis. Annie smiled at him as she put an arm around each girl. “Thank you for entertaining.”

He gave her a rueful grin in return. “Good practice for the future.”

Annie didn't have the heart to tell him that nothing could fully prepare him for the future. Parenting was a learn-as-you-go adventure, one she was still feeling her way along on. It was all trial and error and Annie was trying her darnedest not to make many errors.

Which brought her back to Trace. What to do, what to do?

* * *

W
HEN
T
RACE
GOT
home after kissing Annie in her driveway, the first thing he had done was dig out the old-fashioned phone book and look up the number for Jasper Hennessey. If the man had a bull-riding practice pen, Trace wanted to be there, even if he couldn't ride. He had to do something to fill his days besides working out and thinking about Annie and what his next move—if any—might be.

He wasn't the kind of guy who just kissed women on the spur of the moment—especially a woman he wasn't even dating. He didn't know why he'd kissed Annie and he certainly didn't regret kissing her, but now he wanted to do it again and he wasn't certain following that road would be a good idea...although part of him said it was Annie's decision as to which road she wanted to take. She didn't want complications in her life, but she'd certainly kissed him back.

This was a puzzle he wasn't going to solve by kicking around the house. He wasn't going to solve it at the practice pen, either, but he could distract himself there. When he got hold of Hennessey, the man was more than welcoming, even when Trace explained that he wouldn't be taking part, but was going more to get out of the house than anything.

“Ri-ight,” Hennessey said in a knowing way. “I heard you were in the area. I was hoping you'd call.” He gave Trace the hours and days of practice and Trace told him he'd see him soon—as in that afternoon.

When he arrived at the practice pen several hours later, he walked into the covered arena, drew in the scent of dirt, manure and animal sweat and felt as if he'd come home. There was a small crowd of riders there and a couple of older guys, all dressed in old jeans and flannel shirts. The younger guys were wearing their protective gear and the older men had on cowboy hats and canvas coats.

“Hey,” Trace said as he approached.

“You must be Trace,” the taller guy with the silver mustache said, holding out a hand. “I'm Jasper. Good to meet you. Cody said you might stop by.”

Trace smiled and shook hands, inwardly rolling his eyes at the bit about Cody. The kid probably hadn't mentioned that he'd all but kicked sand in Trace's face before discovering who he was. “Good to meet you.” He looked at the handful of riders milling around, stretching and adjusting gear. Cody was there. He saw Trace, did a double take then dropped his chin and headed over.

“Glad you could come,” he said with just enough self-deprecation in his voice that Trace decided that he was probably okay.

“Glad you told me about the place.”

Trace went to lean on the rail with Jasper and Bill, his brother. Watching was going to be harder than he imagined. Rain drummed on the roof and Trace glanced up. “Nice to be out of the weather.”

“I prefer the outdoor facility. We usually use it during the summer and fall. Just something about being out in the elements.”

Trace knew exactly what he was talking about. Whenever he'd escaped the house during his teen years and headed out into the fields or mountains on horseback, the sting of the wind and the splatter of rain had always made him feel free and independent. He could think about the here and now, and not the cold feeling he got whenever he walked into what was supposed to be his home.

“I imagine if you see something, the kids wouldn't mind you pointing it out,” Bill said as they loaded the first bull.

Trace wasn't much in the helpful hint department—not because he didn't want to help these guys. He did. It was because, honestly, what worked for one bull rider might not work for another. But there were some things that he'd mention if he spotted them. Bull-riding basics.

“You bet,” he said before making a conscious effort to relax his tight shoulders and ease the knot out of his gut. What he really wanted to do was ride.

But it was better to feel antsy here than at home.

* * *

“H
OW
MANY
BUTTERFLIES
need costumes?” Danielle asked as she handed the hammer up to Annie, who stood on a ladder.

Annie pounded in a nail to hold up a quilt rail before answering. “Fifteen.”

“Wow.”

Annie descended the ladder and studied the rail. Thankfully it was level. “I figured butterflies were easier than the squirrels and bunnies. I can find some big scarves and work from there.”

“Great idea. We might ask Granny if she has any scarves tucked away in one of her trunks. I swear that she hasn't thrown out a piece of clothing in fifty years.”

“I can't vouch for the safety of the scarves.”

“Good point.” Danielle folded a small quilt and set it on an antique chair Annie had painted white after work the previous evening. “Maybe the thrift shops.”

“That's what I was thinking.” When she wasn't thinking about Trace, that is. She hadn't seen him in a few days, but he'd never been long out of her thoughts. Even this room reminded her of him, since she'd been painting it when she'd bumped into him behind the building for the second time in two days. It was like some cosmic force was pushing them together.

“Speaking of Granny,” Danielle said, “Mom and I finalized the details for her birthday party and we managed to book the banquet room at the new pub. Will Emily babysit the girls?”

“Yes. It took me a while to convince the girls that a grown-up birthday party in a bar was not a place for a couple of seven-year-olds.”

“I'll have to spoil them a little.”

“As per usual,” Annie murmured wryly. She moved the ladder to the opposite wall. The room was going to be beautiful, with quilts fully displayed on the two larger walls and smaller items arranged on tables, bureaus and chairs, as they were in the main store. All they needed were a few more pieces of furniture, which Annie hoped to find when she and the girls went to a farm auction that coming weekend.

“Oh... Brad Olsen from the PTO might call about—”

“Career day at the school,” Danielle said. “I know. I met him at the bank. I encouraged him to ask the new owner of the little coffee shop. She's young and eager and has never been stared at by thirty kids who ignore your talk and want to know if you have any cats.”

Annie laughed. Danielle had pretty much hit the nail on the head. Career day was more like Interesting People Day to the little kids. “Look at the time,” Annie warned and Danielle let out a gasp as she saw that it was almost four o'clock.

“Good thing my OB always runs late.” She headed toward the back of the store to gather up her purse and sweater. “See you tomorrow.”

After Danielle was gone, Annie tidied up the store and then settled in the comfy chair near the counter and went to work on the cross-stitch kit she'd bought to fill her time when business was slow. She enjoyed the methodical process of pulling the thread through the canvas and watching the picture slowly take shape—
slowly
being the key word. This was not a hobby that would allow her to add stock to Annie Get Your Gun, but it kept her hands and mind occupied. For the most part. Except for those moments when a certain long-legged bull rider shoved his way into her head. And she just as firmly shoved him back out again. All this mental shoving was wearing on her. What was she afraid of? Why did she feel like she had to stop thinking about Trace?

The girls. Fear of messing with status quo.

Fear of the unknown.

As she saw it, she had two choices. She could either continue to dodge the issue and hope it went away, which it very well might—or she could confront it.

Ask him out.

Annie's needle paused above the canvas. Crazy idea. What would be her objective in asking him out?

She set the canvas in her lap and frowned at the opposite wall where a glittery portrait of Annie Oakley holding her rifle stared back at her. Did she have to have an objective? She was interested in him and maybe he'd been correct when he said that she needed to focus on herself every now and again. She picked up the hoop and jabbed the needle in.
Ask him out. Have a safe, friendly date.

Safe? Why would she think that a date with a guy like Trace, who sent her hormones into overdrive, would be safe?

Because he said he kept his promises and she believed him. She didn't know him that well, but she sensed he wasn't by nature a liar.

And if he did lie to her, Grady would have his hide.

* * *

L
ATE
W
EDNESDAY
AFTERNOON
, just after Trace had finished feeding Lex's livestock, he was surprised to see Annie's car pull into his driveway. He was even more surprised to see that she was alone.

He crossed the wide gravel area that separated the house and barn as Annie parked. She got out of the car and came around to the front, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. She tilted up her chin and met his eyes, then pressed her lips together as if having second thoughts about whatever she was there to do. Something stirred inside him as he studied her face, remembering what her soft lips had felt like beneath his own.

“I've come to discuss...something.” Color rose in her cheeks as she spoke, but her expression remained carefully cool. Matter-of-fact. Too matter-of-fact, which had Trace wondering what was coming next. Did she want him to babysit? Because while her girls were adorable, his kid skills were nil. Besides that, it would be so easy to do something wrong.

“What kind of something?”

She sucked a soft breath in through her teeth. “Would you like to go to an auction this weekend?”

“With you and the girls?” That would probably be lively, but he was game. And it would help fill an empty day.

She looked surprised then a little embarrassed. “No. I'm asking you out.”

“Out?” He echoed her words as he tried to gain footing, determine if she meant what she was apparently saying, as in, she wanted to go out with him.

Her mouth hardened. “You know...like to keep company? Go out?”

“I understand what it means.” Trace rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling stupid and off center. “Sure. I'll go to an auction with you.”