The Cowboy's Homecoming. Carolyne AarsenЧитать онлайн книгу.
that, the most recent time being a few weeks ago.
She shook off the dark memories as she strode to the road, punching in her friend’s number on her cell phone.
Abby had made her own way in the world in spite of what had happened to her family. She had put Lee and the heartbreak he had caused behind her. As if determined to prove that her life’s tragic circumstances were not going to define her, she had graduated from high school and college with honors, and then worked tirelessly to pave a thriving career for herself.
A shiny black pickup truck was parked, askew, just off the highway when she came out of the lane. She suspected it was Lee’s. Though it wasn’t the candy-apple-red truck his parents had given him in high school—the vehicle that had mowed her father down—it still looked expensive and new.
She shook her head. Some things didn’t change, she thought as she lifted her phone to her ear.
“Can you come and get me?” Abby asked when Louisa answered. She tucked her cell phone between her chin and shoulder as she dug in her backpack for her water bottle. Her mouth was dry, but she suspected that had more to do with the meeting she’d just had than the warmth of the afternoon.
“Did you get some good pictures?” her friend asked.
Abby thought of the breathtaking view, but somehow the satisfaction she had with the photos was tempered by seeing Lee Bannister. Not that she should be totally surprised. She knew she would be crossing paths with him at some time during her visit. Saddlebank was a small town after all.
Truth was, for many years she had imagined her first face-to-face meeting with Lee. But, in her thoughts, that reunion was one where she was aloof, calm and in charge of the situation.
Not falling on top of him and then flirting with him.
She had climbed the tree to get a better panorama shot of the river valley through a break she saw in the pine branches. Though it did net her some great images, in retrospect it might not have been the best decision.
“What’s your ETA?” she asked her friend.
Louisa’s sigh didn’t sound encouraging. “I’m about ten miles out yet. Jaden needed some groceries, so I said I would help him. I was on my way back to you when I got a flat tire. I’m so sorry.”
Abby suppressed an angry sigh. When she had pulled over to take some pictures, Louisa asked if she could borrow the car to drop off some things at a friend’s place only a mile down the road. Abby wanted to take her time snapping the pictures, so she had agreed. However, Louisa’s going all the way to town with her car had not been discussed.
“How did you get a flat? I just put new tires on.”
“I think I might have run over a nail at Jaden’s place. The yard is a junk heap. I just called roadside service,” Louisa said. “They can’t come for half an hour, though.”
“You can’t change it yourself?” Abby bit her lip, trying to think what to do. She had told her mother she would be there by four. It was quarter to the hour now.
“Not everyone is as self-sufficient as you, girl.”
Abby didn’t want to remind her that same self-sufficiency was a by-product of being the oldest child of a family whose father had withdrawn into alcohol. Whose mother’s bitterness over their circumstances had caused her to retreat well within herself. The day after her father’s accident, much of the responsibility of running the house, taking care of her brother, had fallen on Abby’s slender shoulders.
It had eventually taken a toll.
“Okay. I’ll see you when I see you. Maybe I can hitch a ride.” Abby tried not to get riled up at the idea that Louisa had her car and she had to hitchhike.
Skyline Trail, the name of the road she was heading down, wasn’t that busy, but it was a Friday afternoon. Surely someone would be headed to town.
“Again, I’m so sorry,” Louisa said.
She seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot of apologies today, Abby thought crossly as she ended the call.
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