Whirlwind Reunion. Debra Cowan
neck to the powerful thighs beneath his dark trousers. Trousers that fitted him so well they bordered on indecent. Her chest tightened painfully.
The notes of a waltz filled the air, swelling over the clink of glasses, conversation and dancers. She had known she would see Matt, and she had made herself come anyway. It was time to get it over and done with.
His brother, just as big and an inch taller, swept his dark-haired bride around the floor. Russ hadn’t stopped smiling since before the wedding.
Like Annalise, Matt’s father, J.T., wasn’t dancing tonight. An accident he’d suffered several months ago had left him crippled.
Cora Wilkes, a lifelong friend and now a widow, thanks to an outlaw gang, stood talking to him. Tall, with perfect posture, the older woman walked over to Annalise. Her hazel eyes twinkled as she sipped her second glass of champagne.
Annalise glanced at the big man, still surprised each time she saw him in the wheelchair. He had been a good friend to her father and to her, especially during the year she had cared for Hardy Fine before he died.
“Is Mr. Baldwin expected to walk again?” Annalise asked when Cora paused beside her.
“Dr. Butler first had hope, but now he isn’t sure. J.T. isn’t recovering the way the doctor had anticipated.” Cora’s face softened. “Has J.T. asked you to look at his leg? He said he might.”
“Not yet.” Considering the way his youngest son felt about her, Mr. Baldwin probably wouldn’t ask, regardless of their former friendship.
Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore Matt, and that had frustration churning in her belly.
As he escorted a curvy redhead into the dining room, Annalise noted with resentment that his rugged good looks hadn’t faded in the last seven years. If anything, he was more compelling. With those smoldering blue eyes, his was a face that had a woman sighing. Annalise should know; she’d done her share.
But there was more to him than just his looks. Beneath the easy charm, the slow drawl often mistaken for laziness, was a razor-sharp intellect and a keen instinct about people.
“I think I’m finally getting used to seeing your name over the medical clinic instead of your daddy’s,” Cora said. “Hardy would be so proud of you.”
She hoped so because Matt sure hadn’t been. He reappeared in the dining-room doorway, this time with an unfamiliar blonde, and Annalise jerked her gaze away to scan the lobby. The polished wood of the oak floor matched the large registration desk positioned to greet people when they walked through the double doors.
Russ and his wife, Lydia, had done a wonderful job with the hotel that had been built in the years Annalise had been gone. Pewter wall sconces above the moss-green sofas on either side of the desk burned continuously on gas lighting. The high ceilings and the staircase opposite the registration desk were accentuated with oak molding.
Annalise had known many of the people here since childhood: Davis Lee and Riley Holt, Bram and Jake Ross. Now all except Bram were married.
“Did you finalize the purchase of Jed Doyle’s house?” Cora asked.
“Yes.” Annalise smiled, thinking how perfectly it had worked out that the gunsmith had wanted to sell his house just as she had returned.
The frame building was exactly what she needed. She used the upstairs for her living quarters and the first floor for her medical clinic, the way Jed had used it for his gunsmithy.
“Have you seen any patients yet?”
“Several, and some people have dropped by to introduce themselves. Everyone has been welcoming.”
Except Matt. Annalise didn’t want a welcome from him. Which was good because she knew she could wait until hell froze over and she wouldn’t get one.
“Russ’s wife seems nice.” She smiled as the groom tugged the bride into his arms and kissed her. The resulting burst of applause surprised Annalise.
“Lydia’s very nice. Smart, too. She came here as Russ’s business partner. They both owned half of the Fontaine.” Cora chuckled, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the noise of the party. “She keeps him on his toes. I’m starting to wonder if Matt will ever settle down, and so is his pa. Especially now that Russ is married.”
Annalise’s stomach knotted. She didn’t want to talk about Matt settling down. She didn’t want to talk about him at all. She made a noncommittal noise.
Cora continued, “He’s with someone different every time I see him.”
Annalise could say the same. From the corner of her eye, she was well aware of Matt whirling a raven-haired beauty around the floor. Evidently the man who had once sworn to belong only to one woman—to her—no longer limited himself.
“Since J.T.’s accident, the running of the ranch has fallen mainly to Matt, and he’s heavily involved with the Stockraisers’ Association. A little too reckless in his quest to hunt down the rustlers that have been plaguing this area, but he won’t stop until he finds them.”
“I heard other ranches were losing cattle, too.” Frustratingly aware of the man who had broken her heart, she didn’t think she could stand here much longer.
Cora nodded. “The Ross ranch and Riley’s place. Between that and the women, Matt stays plenty busy, but he shows no signs of settling down.”
Lucky for women everywhere, Annalise thought uncharitably.
Cora slid a sideways look at her. “Y’all were sweet on each other once. Any chance—”
“No.” Annalise cut her off firmly, sharply. “None.”
“That’s a shame. I thought something might come of that.”
Something had. Heartache and a baby. Annalise’s throat closed up. And Matt had never responded to her letter about her miscarriage of their child. Not one word.
Her friend continued to talk about newcomers to the town, but Annalise’s nerves were stretched taut. Despite the open front door, the air in the room was stifling, as were the reminders of the past. She couldn’t take it any more.
She had stayed at least ten feet away from him all night and that was as close as she intended to get.
Having already given her congratulations to Russ and his wife, Annalise quietly said good night to Cora and threaded her way through the group gathered behind her at the foot of the oak-and-wrought-iron staircase. She reached the coat stands on the wall along the staircase and found her shawl.
Once outside, she took a deep welcome gulp of cool air. It felt good against her heated skin, bared by the square neckline of her jade-green silk bodice.
She swept the wrap around her shoulders and started off the hotel’s porch, looking down to pull the edges together. She saw a man’s boots at the same time she ran into a rock-hard chest. The momentum caused her to stumble.
Hard masculine hands shot out, cupped her shoulders. “Whoa, there.”
At the deep familiar rumble, the apologetic smile on her face faded. Her gaze jerked up, clashing with a hot blue one. Matt.
Her pulse stopped then resumed, beating so fast that her chest felt too small for her heart. The warmth in his eyes died, replaced with a cold flatness as he practically pushed her away. He dropped his hold so quickly, so forcefully that she had to take a step back to keep her balance.
A woman stood beside him, the same pretty blonde Annalise had seen with him earlier.
The other woman looked from Annalise to Matt. She slid her hand from his arm and nodded at Annalise. “Good evening, ma’am.”
“Good evening.” She was surprised to hear the words. Her throat felt as if it were bolted shut and wouldn’t work.
The blonde glanced at Matt. “I’ll wait for you inside.”