The Cowboy's Homecoming

She dropped her phone into one of the pockets of her vest and then pulled her camera out again to check it better. She frowned when she saw the tiny flecks of blood she had missed cleaning off one corner of the camera’s body.

Lee’s blood.

She stuffed the camera back in her bag. Later. She would deal with that later.

She strode to the road, then stopped, tapping her fingers on her arm trying to figure out what to do. She couldn’t sit here and wait, knowing Lee would be coming back out any moment. She’d have to hitch a ride after all. So she slipped the other strap of her backpack over her other arm and started walking, wishing she’d put on her hiking boots.

A light breeze sifted up the road, easing the heat of the sun now beating down on her. The road took a gentle turn and she was once again looking over the basin that cradled Saddlebank and the ranches surrounding it. She stopped and pulled her knapsack off, the photographer in her constantly looking for another angle, the right light as she quickly pulled her camera out. She withdrew her telephoto lens out of her bag just as she heard the growl of a truck starting up.

Lee’s truck.

There was no way she was getting a ride from him.

Her history with Lee was even older than the accident. Though that traumatic event had been the lowest point, there had been others. She had been attracted to Lee Bannister most of her life, harboring her secret crush. But Lee was part of a very wild, very cool group. He, David Fortier, son of a neighboring rancher, and Mitch Albon, son of a lawyer in town, ran around together, partying and living recklessly, flirting and teasing girls.

Lee had never paid the slightest attention to her. Then, suddenly, out of the blue, he seemed to notice her. He would chat her up, leaning against the locker beside hers, smiling that slightly mocking smile that always made her weak at the knees. When Lee had, unexpectedly, asked her to the prom, she could hardly believe her luck. Of course she had said yes. He was a senior, she a lowly sophomore. To her surprise, they had a wonderful time. And, even better, they dated a few more times after that.

It seemed too good to believe. Lee Bannister, one of the most eligible guys in the valley, was going out with her. And then it all fell apart. At a party she had attended with Lee, Mitch drew her aside and laughingly told her the truth. David Fortier had made a bet with Lee to take Abby out. It had nothing to do with any kind of attraction—it was a simple joke.

She was crushed and felt degraded. She pulled back from Lee after that, turning down his invitation to come with him to another party knowing David and Mitch would be there. Facing them would be too humiliating. Lee, angry with her, went anyway. And on the way back from that party, her father was struck down by Lee, and her life changed forever. Abby shook off the memories and quickly spun the lens on as she glanced around, looking for a place to hide, the noise from Lee’s truck growing louder. The ditch was a broad expanse of grass; the trees on the edge could offer her a hiding place. She snatched up her knapsack and started running.

But the sandals that were unsuitable for a long trek were even more unsuitable for running.

The toe of the sandal caught on a bottle hidden by the grass. She faltered, windmilling her arms, trying to maintain her balance, but gravity and momentum won out over will. Her knapsack flew in one direction, her hat another, and then her foot twisted under her, hit something sharp and she fell, chest down, on the grassy verge. Right on top of her sunglasses.

Of course. Why not?

Abby wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Two clumsy mishaps in the space of twenty minutes and both in front of the man she wanted to avoid as long as possible.

She lay there a moment, hoping that Lee wouldn’t see her sprawled out on the grass. But then his truck slowed and stopped, and when he turned off the ignition, she couldn’t hide. So she slowly rose to her feet and then stumbled as pain shot through her leg.

She looked down, dismayed to see blood pouring out of a cut in her ankle. She shifted and saw the culprit. The broken bottle.

Good thing her tetanus shots were up to date.

She reached out for her knapsack, more concerned about the well-being of her camera than her injury.

“You okay?” she heard Lee call out as he came down the ditch toward her.

“I just fell,” she said, sucking in a quick breath through her clenched teeth as she dug through her bag to find something to stop the bleeding.

“You’re not okay,” he muttered, clutching her ankle. “You got anything for this?”

“In my bag. A lens-cleaning cloth.”

He was too close. The vague scent of woodsy aftershave and the touch of his hand made her want to pull away. Then Lee bent down beside her and lifted her foot, cradling it in one hand while wrapping the cloth she had given him around it.

His head was inches from hers. His thick brown hair had a slight wave and curled around the collar of his striped shirt. His hands were gentle, but to Abby each touch felt like a brand.

Then he looked up at her, his gaze holding hers, his eyes narrowed. His eyes weren’t brown, she thought absently, suddenly feeling as if she couldn’t breathe. She saw a hint of bronze in the lines around his iris. His lashes were dark; his eyebrows darker still, meeting like a slash across a narrow nose.

If anything he was even more handsome than she remembered.

“I have a first-aid kit in my truck,” he said, turning his attention back to her ankle. “We need to take care of this. Don’t move.”

“Okay. Sure.” She felt angry at her sudden breathlessness, frustrated with her reaction to him. She blamed it on the old, high school emotions he too easily reawakened in her.

As he left she shook her head, the pain in her ankle battling for attention with the humiliation of falling not once, but twice in front of the one man she had hoped to face with some measure of dignity.

With a light sigh she leaned back, closing her eyes against another wave of pain, once again resenting Lee Bannister. If it weren’t for meeting him again, she wouldn’t have tried to run away.

It’s your own fault, her more rational voice reminded her. You didn’t need to act so silly. Like you always acted around him.

Her cheeks burned as hotly as her hurting ankle as older memories assailed her. Times in high school that she would sit on the sidelines of his football game, pretending she was snapping action pictures of the team for the school yearbook when, in fact, she was trying to get the perfect shot of him to keep for herself.

He destroyed your father’s life.

She shook her head as if to put her memories in their proper place and order. Her foolish feelings for her high school crush should have been swept away by his actions both in high school and shortly after graduation.

And yet they hadn’t been completely. It was that irony that created an ongoing struggle in her soul. He was the enemy and the first boy she had ever truly cared for all wrapped in one far too appealing package.

Help me, Lord, she prayed. Help me to put this all in perspective. Help me to keep my head clear until he’s gone. He’s taken up too much of my thoughts already.

She winced as she shifted her leg and another shard of pain shot through her ankle, but she reminded herself that she only had to get through the next half hour. Then she would be back with Louisa, and Lee could go back to being a footnote in her life.

He returned with a first-aid kit that he set down on the grass as he knelt down at her feet. Then he opened the tin and looked up at her again.

And her crazy heart did another silly flip.

“You should probably take your sandal off,” he advised, his deep voice quiet as he rummaged through the first-aid kit.

She nodded, bracing herself as she leaned forward to unbuckle her sandal.

“This will probably hurt,” he said, ripping open an antiseptic cloth and dabbing it on the cut once her sandal was removed.

She grimaced and he muttered an apology, but soon the cut was cleaned out. It wasn’t deep.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured. “But you might want to have it looked at anyway.” He pulled a bandage out of the first-aid kit.

“I can put that on,” she said, reaching for the bandage, but she dropped it when he handed it to her and then it took her a few moments to get the packaging off.

Relax. Settle down, she told herself. But she was all thumbs and managed to paste the bandage to itself.

“Can I?” Lee asked, taking another bandage out of the tin.

Abby wanted to say no, but she was tired of looking clumsy in front of him, so she just nodded.

His hands were large, but his movements were confident and sure. He gently pressed the edges of the bandage down, then lifted his gaze to look at her.

“I hope this doesn’t handicap you, he said, sitting back on his heels. “You were in quite a rush to photograph whatever it was you wanted.”

She could have pounced on the out he had given her, but for some reason she couldn’t lie. “Actually I wasn’t running to get a picture. I was trying to hide from you. I thought you would probably stop and offer me a ride...and I didn’t want to take you up on it.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Well, guess you’re stuck with getting a ride from me after all,” he said as he helped her to her feet.

Abby leaned over to pick up her backpack and her sandal, not bothering to reply. But he grabbed both before she could. Then he held out his arm to help her, but she hesitated to take it.

“You’ll fall again if you don’t let me help you,” he warned.

Abby saw the wisdom in this, then hooked her arm through his and let him lead her up the hill to his truck, the grass prickling her one bare foot.

She was far too aware of his arm holding her up, him walking alongside her. At one time this would have been a dream come true for her. At another it would have been her worst nightmare and a complete betrayal of everything that had happened to her family.

She closed her eyes, praying once again.

Just get through this, she reminded herself as he helped her into his truck. Get through this and you won’t have to see him again until it’s time for you to leave.

Chapter Two

Lee put the truck in gear, glanced over his shoulder and pulled onto the road.

He looked over at his passenger, but she was bent over, slipping her sandal on and buckling it loosely. They drove in silence for a mile or so and then he stole another glimpse of her. Now she was crouching on her side of the cab, holding her knapsack like a shield.

She clearly would have preferred to be anywhere but in the cab of his truck.

“I’m not a reckless driver anymore,” he said, trying not to sound annoyed.

Abby shot him a quick look. “I hope not.” She was silent a moment, then lifted her chin, staring directly at him. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you since that day—”

“That day at the lawyer’s,” he finished for her. He gazed back at the road again, pressing his lips together as the past, once again, dropped into the present. The night of the accident was a blur to him. He blamed his drinking that night on the fact that he thought Abby, the best thing that had ever happened to him, didn’t want to date him. She was supposed to have come to the party with him, but she had phoned and told him not to bother calling her again. Whatever they had going, was over. She didn’t tell him why.

All he remembered of that night was dropping his keys on the way out of the party.

The very next memory was of coming to behind the wheel of his truck, which had plowed into a tree, and a police officer asking him if he knew his name.

He suppressed a shudder at the flashbacks that always followed. Being taken away in the cruiser. Finding out that his truck had struck Abby’s father before it hit the tree. His parents coming to see him in the jail. The horror and the regret and the twisting guilt. Dealings with the lawyers and the subsequent prison sentence. He relived that night of the party every day for the first year after it happened, wishing he could turn back time.

Part of him wanted to ask Abby why she broke up with him before the party, but given the events that had fragmented their lives, it seemed petty.

“Looks like you’re still taking pictures,” he remarked, trying to fill the oppressive silence between them. At one time he had cared about her and thought she cared about him. Maybe, in spite of what happened, they could find some point of connection.

“I’m working as a photographer and writer,” Abby said after a moment of silence. “Mostly travel pieces for the magazine I work for.”

“You enjoy it?” he asked, glancing over at her, then down at her camera.

“It pays the bills,” she replied, turning her camera off and slipping it back in her camera bag. She folded her arms over the bag and then winced.

“Do you want anything for the pain?” he asked. “I’ve got some painkillers in the first-aid kit too.”

She shook her head, turning to look out the side window.

Guess the conversation’s over. He stared ahead at the road, the thump of the frost heaves, the hum of the tires, the clinking of his key chain against the steering column the only sounds in the truck. Ten more uncomfortable and silent minutes later, they rounded a corner and saw an automobile parked by the side of the road.

“That’s my car,” Abby said. The vehicle listed to one side and Lee could see that one tire was flat.

A tall, lanky girl lay on the hood of the car. She lifted her head as Lee parked the truck and then she languorously raised herself off the car when he got out. Lee was surprised as he rounded the hood of his truck. This was Louisa? He remembered a rather plump girl who never made any apology for telling him that Abby was too good for him.

She would be pleased to know she was right.

Abby was already out of the cab and slipping her knapsack over her arm, ignoring him as he offered her his assistance. She hopped, using the truck to balance herself as she made her way to the car.

“What happened to you, girl?” Louisa called out, hurrying to help her friend. “Can’t leave you alone a minute before you get into trouble—” Then her voice faded away as a smile curved her lips.

“Hello,” she said to him, her smile warm and friendly.

Obviously she didn’t recognize him either, Lee noted, thinking of that brief moment when he and Abby were almost flirting with each other at the lookout point.

“Louisa, this is Lee...Bannister,” Abby said, looking pointedly at her friend. Louisa’s smile fled and her features hardened as she caught Abby by the arm, helping her to the car.

“How did you end up with him?” Louisa hissed, loud enough for Lee to hear.

Him. How quickly he had been dismissed. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, though. Louisa had made no secret of what she thought of him in high school, and he didn’t imagine the events following the prom had enhanced his standing with Abby’s friend.

“I cut my ankle and Lee helped me out,” Abby said, her voice strained. Lee felt sorry for her. She sounded as though the pain was getting worse.

“How did you cut your ankle, girlfriend?”

Abby waved off Louisa’s questions. “Just help me to the car so I can sit while we wait for the guy to come.”

“What guy?” Lee asked.

“Someone from Alan’s garage,” Louisa said in a dismissive tone. “He’s going to change the tire.”

“I can do that,” Lee offered.

Louisa and Abby both shot him a surprised look.

“I’m not completely helpless,” Lee muttered, walking to the back of the car to check on the tire. It was well and truly flat. “Where’s the spare?”

“You don’t need to—”

“Alan can do it—”

Abby and Louisa spoke at the same time. Lee almost felt insulted, but he guessed neither of them wanted to spend any more time with him than they had to.

“There’s no way I’m leaving you two here stranded,” he said, ignoring their protests. “So, where’s the spare tire?”

He saw Abby give Louisa another quick look, as if to verify what she should do. “It’s in the trunk. Under the carpet. There’s a toolbox there, as well.” Abby hit the key fob, he heard a click and he opened the trunk.

“I’ll help you,” she said, hobbling over to his side.

“Go sit on the side of the road,” he said. “I don’t want you falling again.”

The “again” slipped out. The grimace on Abby’s face indicated he’d hit a sensitive spot. He imagined that, after first falling out of a tree, then stumbling and getting cut while trying to avoid him, she’d had her share of humiliation. He didn’t need to rub it in.

Lee sighed wearily. He clearly wasn’t gaining ground with her, so he turned his attention to changing the tire. This he was halfway competent with. He found the spare tire, jack and tools he needed.

While he jacked and loosened nuts, Abby and Louisa had both taken his advice and sat on the side of the road, talking quietly.

Fifteen minutes later he dumped the flat tire in the back of the car and slammed the trunk shut. “It’s ready to go,” he said, brushing his hands on his jeans.

Louisa stood, helping Abby to her feet. “What do we owe you?” Louisa asked.

“Nothing. Just being neighborly.”

“I prefer to pay you,” Abby said, digging in her backpack.

“I prefer you don’t.” Lee took a step toward his truck. “You’ll want to bring that tire in to Alan’s to get it fixed. He can swap it for the spare. And, as I mentioned before, you should get that ankle looked at.”

“I’ll do that.” Abby clutched her backpack. “And thanks again for your help and...the ride.”

“Okay.” Another uncomfortable pause followed. There was nothing more to say or do, so he gave her a tense smile, then walked back to the truck.

As he drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised to feel his heart banging against his rib cage.

It was just reaction, he told himself as he sucked in a breath and looked ahead. He wasn’t sure if he’d see Abby again, and it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he didn’t blame her.

That much hadn’t changed.

* * *

“You going to tell your mom that you met up with Lee?”

Abby looked up from her camera, glancing ahead at the road as Louisa turned the car around, headed back to Saddlebank. “It’s not like I snuck out to see him,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so defensive. “It was a rotten coincidence that we both ended up at the same place at the same time.”

“Must have been hard for you.”

Abby let the sentence settle, contemplating the intricate ebb and flow of feelings that Lee Bannister stirred in her.

It bothered her that she found him even more attractive than she had in high school. She should despise him. He had not only injured her father, but had humiliated her. So, for all intents and purposes, she should feel nothing but contempt for him.

And yet, as she looked down at her camera again, she was annoyed to feel a prickle of tears. It had been nine years since her father’s accident. Surely seeing Lee shouldn’t bring all this up again. She blamed her wavering emotions on embarrassment. On the fatigue that had dogged her for the past four years, travelling around the world doing pieces on resorts for the travel magazine she worked for. It was a dream job and had paid her enough to set a bunch of money aside. But a weariness and a soul-deep dissatisfaction she couldn’t explain seemed to vex her every time she booked another airplane ticket. Every time she checked into a motel.

So she took a month off and, when she still felt the same, asked for an extension. It had taken a lot of wrangling with her editor, but Abby wanted to come home. She hadn’t been back in Saddlebank for years. Still, she should have timed her visit better, she realized, and returned after the Bannister anniversary and wedding.

“I knew he was coming back,” Abby said finally. “I thought I could avoid him but it seems God has an ironic sense of humor.”

“I wouldn’t call seeing that rat fink unexpectedly funny,” Louisa scoffed.

“You might have if you had seen the array of my various falls in front of him. I would have gotten at least an 8.6 for artistic impression.”

“And a ten for pain and suffering.”

“It’s not that bad,” Abby said, glancing down at the large bandage Lee had put on her cut.

“Well, that will certainly put a wrinkle in your hiking plans.”

Abby had hoped to head up into the high country and take some photos while she was here. Lately she’d been doing some freelance work, selling some of the pictures she took between jobs. She hoped to supplement her income doing her own work and slowly wean herself from the travel pieces she had been doing. “I’ll manage.”

Louisa was quiet a moment, then turned to her, eyebrows lifted. “So, was it hard to see Lee again?”

“Wasn’t easy. The guy has taken up too much space in my brain in the past few years.” Abby thought she had erased the shadow he cast on her life. But one look at him and all the tangled emotions twisted her inside out again. “Truth is, I just hate how much influence he’s had in my life,” she continued. “I feel like I’ve invested way too much energy in this nonrelationship. And I hope Mom doesn’t want to talk about it like she does each time I call her.”

“That’s probably part of your problem, as well,” Louisa said. “She keeps rehashing the same old stuff. Every time I speak with her, it’s also all she can talk about. She needs to get past it too.”

“It was a hard time for her. Watching Dad suffer and then become this completely different person, then their divorce...” Abby eased out a sigh and shook her head. “It changed our lives.”

“I know. I’m not going to lie—seeing Lee was a shock to me too. I’m still ticked at him for what he did to you at the prom. Taking you out on a bet from those louses he hung around with.”

“That was even longer ago,” Abby said with a snicker.

“Maybe, but I think that was almost as hard for you as the accident.” Louisa grew pensive, staring at the road ahead, her fingers tapping the steering wheel.

Abby was about to reply to that when she heard the muffled trill of her cell phone. She grabbed her backpack, recognizing the ring tone she had assigned to her editor. What could Maddie possibly want now?

“Let it ring,” Louisa snorted. “You’re on holiday.”

But Abby had never been able to let a phone ring; the insistent tone always created an urgency she couldn’t ignore. Besides, she was fully aware of how much she owed her editor right now. Abby had turned down two assignments so that she could extend her vacation.

“Hey, Maddie. What can I do for you?” she said, setting her camera aside.

“You in Montana? Close to home like you said you’d be?”

“Yeah. I’m coming up to Saddlebank in a couple of minutes.”

“Awesome. So listen up...I need your help. Badly. I need you to do me a favor.”

A knot settled in the pit of her stomach. It was never simply a favor with Maddie. On the contrary, it was always a huge, huge favor.

“Burt Templeton was supposed to do that Montana piece, but he’s stuck in Bangkok,” Maddie was saying. “Got some kind of weird tropical virus. He’s getting transferred to a hospital in Portland tomorrow, but he’s officially out of commission for another couple of weeks.” She huffed out a breath. “Which leaves me royally stuck. It’s not far from your hometown, and won’t take a lot of time. Four days, maybe five or six max. It’s a puff piece, Abby. Pictures. Some interviews. Please help me out?”

Abby was already shaking her head no. She was fairly sure she knew which piece Maddie was talking about.