Secluded with the Cowboy. Cassie Miles
the specialists at the fertility clinic, and he wasn’t about to call those jerks. “I don’t know her doctor’s name.”
“I’ll contact Doc Maud.”
“Great idea,” he muttered. “Except for one thing. Maud is a veterinarian.”
“She’ll know other doctors. People doctors.”
Any old doctor wasn’t good enough. He wanted his wife to have the best of care. For too long he’d taken her for granted, hadn’t appreciated her.
“I’ll make the call,” Carolyn said, waving her cell phone.
“Back off. I’ll do it.” His sister’s take-charge attitude irritated him. Though she was only two years older than he was, Carolyn insisted on being the boss, especially after their dad had passed away five years ago. Dylan would be glad when she went back to running the Denver offices of Carlisle Certified Organic Beef. Carolyn belonged in the city.
And he belonged at the ranch where he managed two thousand head of grass-fed, antibiotic-free Black Angus. Before the kidnapping they’d had a pretty good life. A couple of bumps in the road but nothing serious. He and Nicole could be happy again. Maybe even better than before.
Through the window he watched the golden sunset spread above distant snow-capped peaks. Nicole loved these Colorado skies. When they got married, they promised to share every sunset. They’d even engraved that vow on their wedding bands with the words, “My horizon.” She was his promise, his hope, his final destination.
He looked down into her eyes. Her lips were unsmiling. “Those things I said, about wanting a divorce…”
“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to explain.”
“If I hadn’t said that, we both would have been shot.” She swallowed hard. “There were two of them with rifles aimed at both of us. And that wasn’t all. If I had escaped, Nate said he’d go on a rampage. Kill my horses. The barn cats. Every person connected to Carlisle Ranch would suffer.”
In retrospect, Dylan realized that he should have guessed that she’d been forced to say what she did. But Nicole had been damn convincing. Looked him straight in the eye and told him that their marriage was over.
For the past several weeks they’d been arguing. She’d accused him of not listening to her, and that he paid too much attention to running the ranch and not enough to their relationship. She’d been angry at him. That was for damn sure.
But she’d never once said she didn’t love him or that she wanted a divorce. Those were Nate Miller’s words. And when Nicole spoke them, they were bullets to Dylan’s heart.
In that moment he’d wanted to die. Losing her to a kidnapper was hell. Losing her because she didn’t want to be with him was even worse.
Determinedly, he said, “We’re going to be okay.”
“Know what I’ve been dreaming about? What I really want?”
“Tell me.”
“An energy bar with peanuts and raisins.”
Dylan stroked dank strands of hair off her forehead. “You always liked those granola bars.”
Her predictability pleased him. Back to normal. Everything is going to be all right.
When her husband escorted her across the threshold of their upstairs bedroom at the ranch house, a strong sense of familiarity overwhelmed Nicole. Surrounded by memories, she truly felt that she was home. And safe.
Every detail—from the green-sprigged wallpaper to the sandy wall-to-wall carpet—matched her personal taste. She’d selected the dark oak furniture. The creamcolored duvet and the pillows plumped up against the headboard promised a comfortable sleep.
Her gaze caught on the framed family photos displayed above the dresser, and she reached toward their wedding picture. In his tuxedo with his black hair combed, Dylan was tall, dashing and gallant. Standing beside him, she looked tiny in her lacy white gown. Though she’d been wearing three-inch heels to enhance her five-foot-two inch height, the top of her head still didn’t reach higher than his chin. “Our wedding. I was so happy.”
Dylan smiled. “Best day of my life.”
Her hand touching the photo was filthy. So much had changed. The bumps and bruises she’d been trying to ignore ached. Her whole body felt sore.
She staggered into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the faucet in the sink. The grime and stench of captivity disgusted her. She needed to be clean again.
After she’d washed her hands and face, she confronted her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She leaned close. “I look awful.”
“Not to me.” Dylan handed her a towel and gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s like I always said. No matter where you are, no matter what you do, you’re always the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“I’m the only woman in this bathroom,” she pointed out.
“So I’m not lying.”
It was good to see him smile. He had obviously suffered in her absence. The strain showed in the deepening of the lines at the corners of his pale green eyes. His usually ruddy complexion had paled. “This was hard on you.”
“I kept thinking I’d never see you again, never hear your voice, never…” He choked off his words before getting emotional. Dylan wasn’t the sort of man who put his feelings on display. “I’ll be glad when things get back to normal.”
There was a knock at their bedroom door, and he went to answer. She heard Carolyn’s voice and Dylan’s response as he said they wanted to be alone.
Nicole appreciated his concern for her privacy. Though she didn’t feel completely wiped out, she needed some time to pull herself together and to heal. She heard Carolyn mention Dylan’s mother, Andrea. Was she here? Had Andrea come to the ranch? If so, Nicole would be surprised. Dylan and his mother had been estranged for years.
He closed the bedroom door and carried a tray laden with three energy bars, a ham-and-cheese sandwich and a mug of milk. To her eye, the simple repast looked like a feast. As soon as he set the tray down on the table by the window, she pounced on an energy bar, tore off the wrapper and took a bite. Never had anything tasted so fabulous. She chased the granola with a sip of milk. “Omigod. Omigod.”
Dylan laughed. “Hungry?”
“I guess so.” She lowered herself into the padded rocking chair beside the table, glad that the cushion was forest-green and wouldn’t show the dirt from her jeans. “My bath is going to wait until I have some food.”
Another bite of granola. Another swig of milk. She picked up the sandwich. The homemade bread felt heavy and healthy. The ham, the yellow American cheese and the crisp lettuce had her taste buds exploding in ecstasy. Though she fully intended to devour the whole thing, she was full after only three or four bites.
Leaning back in the rocking chair, she sipped the milk. “Did Carolyn say something about your mom?”
“Andrea’s here,” he said coldly. His mother had divorced Dylan’s father and moved to Manhattan when Dylan was only five years old. “I didn’t invite her.”
No surprise. He’d never forgiven his mother for leaving, despite the obvious fact that Andrea was a city woman. And she was happy in New York. Years ago she’d remarried and had another child—a half sister that Dylan had never met. “Why is she here?”
“Carolyn called and told her you’d been kidnapped. Andrea took it upon herself to come out here. A waste of time.”
“Don’t be hard on her. She wanted