“Gene, for God’s sake,” Dwight ground out.
“Don’t worry. I won’t spoil your party.” He caught a strand of Allison’s dark hair and tugged it. “Stay away from me. I’m bad medicine. Ask anybody.”
He grabbed his beer and walked away without another word.
Allison’s eyes followed him, and she almost felt his pain. Poor, tormented man….
“Don’t make the mistake of feeling sorry for him,” Dwight told her when Gene was out of earshot. “Pity is the last thing he wants or needs. He has to come to grips with it himself.”
“Where is his real father?” Allison asked quietly.
He started to speak, but before he could, a smaller, female version of Dwight slammed down into a chair beside Winnie.
“So he’s gone,” Marie Nelson muttered. “Dwight, he’s just impossible. I can’t even talk to him….” She colored, looking at Allison. “Sorry,” she said. “You must be Allison. Winnie’s been hiding you for days, I thought she’d never introduce us!” she said with a smile. “I didn’t mean to start airing the family linen in public. You’ll have to excuse me. Gene always sets me off.”
“What’s he done now?” Dwight groaned.
“He seduced my best friend,” she muttered.
“Dale Branigan is not your best friend,” Dwight reminded her. “She’s a divorcée with claws two inches long, and if anybody got seduced it was Gene, not her. It’s not his fault that she won’t realize it was a one-shot fling for him.”
“I don’t mean Dale,” she sighed. “I meant Jessie.”
“Gene’s never been near Jessie,” Dwight said shortly.
“She says he has. She says—”
“Marie,” he said, calling her by name for the first time and confirming Allison’s suspicions, “Jessie couldn’t tell the truth if her life depended on it. She’s been crazy about Gene for years and it’s gotten her nowhere. This is just a last-ditch effort to get him to marry her. I’m telling you, it won’t work. She can’t blackmail him to the altar.”
“She might not be lying,” Marie said, although not with as much conviction as before. “You know how Gene is with women.”
“I don’t think you do,” Dwight said. “Jessie isn’t even his type. He likes sophisticated, worldly women.”
Marie leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “Poor Jessie.”
“Poor Jessie,” Dwight agreed. “Now say hello to Winnie.”
“Hi, Winnie,” Marie greeted belatedly, and smiled. “It’s nice to see you again. And I’m glad Allison could come,” she added, smiling. She didn’t add what Dwight had said about the effect she had on Gene. Now that she’d seen it for herself, she was intrigued. There was indeed something very special about Miss Hathoway, and apparently Gene had noticed it.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Allison replied sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t. How do you like Wyoming?”
“Very much. It’s beautiful.”
“We think so.” Marie studied her curiously. “Winnie’s very secretive about you. You aren’t a fugitive Hell’s Angel or anything, are you?” she teased, trying not to give away what Dwight had told her about the other woman.
“I don’t think so,” Allison said, leaning forward to add, “but what if I have memory failure and I’ve got a motorcycle stashed somewhere?”
“As long as it’s a Harley-Davidson, it’s okay.” Marie grinned. “I’ve always wanted to ride one.”
“Horses, okay. Motorcycles, never.” Her brother grinned. “She’s a former rodeo champion, or did I mention it?” he added.
“Are you, really?” Allison asked, all eyes.
“Gene, too,” Marie said, sighing. “He was world champion roper one year, before he hurt his hand. He doesn’t compete anymore. He’s bitter about so many things. I wish he could stop blaming Dwight and me. We love him, you know. But he won’t believe any of us do.”
“Maybe he’ll come around someday. It’s a blessing that he has so much to do that he doesn’t have time to brood,” Dwight added. “We supply broncs and bulls for rodeos,” he told Allison. “It’s a full-time job, especially since we’re always shipping or receiving livestock. The paperwork alone is a nightmare.”
“It sounds complicated. And dangerous,” she added, thinking about the wildness of the animals involved. She wasn’t a rodeo fan, but she’d seen the kind of animals cowboys had to ride in competition when she and Winnie had lived in Arizona.
“Working around livestock is always dangerous,” Dwight agreed. “But it goes with the territory.”
“And we have a good safety record,” Marie chimed in. “Have you ever seen a real rodeo, Allison?”
“Yes,” Allison nodded. “Once, when Winnie and I were little.”
“I remember the candy better than I remember the rodeo,” Winnie laughed. “I imagine Allie does, too.”
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Allison agreed.
“We’ll make a fan of you, if you stay here long enough,” Dwight promised. “How about some music, Marie? We might as well drag the band out of the barbecue and make them work.”
“I’ll get them started.”
The dancing was fun, but by the time Allison and Winnie went home, Gene Nelson hadn’t made another appearance and Allison was disappointed. She was fascinated by him, despite what she’d heard about his reputation. He liked sophisticated women, and tonight she’d pretended to be one. But he’d walked away and left her. She sighed miserably. Even when she was pretending to be a siren, she was still just plain old Allison, she thought dully. It was too much to hope for, that a man like Gene would give her a second glance.
With determination, she smiled and danced and socialized. But her heart wasn’t in it. Without the elusive Mr. Nelson, everything had gone flat.
The elusive Mr. Nelson was, in fact, feeling the same way. He’d had to force himself to leave the barbecue, because he’d wanted to dance with Allison. But getting involved with her would only create more problems and he’d had enough. He thought about going into town to the bar, but that felt flat, too. He was losing his taste for liquor and wild women. Maybe he’d caught a virus or something.
He strolled past the bunkhouse, hearing loud laughter, led by the redheaded Rance. It was Saturday night, and he couldn’t forbid the men liquor on their own time. But one of these days, he was going to have to confront that venomous rider. He’d been needling Gene for days. The man was sweet on Dale Branigan, and fiercely jealous of Gene. He could have told him there was no need, but it wouldn’t have done any good.
He kept walking, his mind still on the way Allison had looked in that sundress. He paused to check two of the sick calves in the barn, marveling at how much he’d changed in just one day and one night. Maybe it was his age, he thought. Then a picture of Allison Hathoway’s soft hazel eyes burned into his brain and he groaned. With a muttered curse, he saddled a horse and went out to check on the night herders—something he hadn’t done in months.
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