“He’s acting like it never happened. Davis has had him out riding fences, especially mornings when the girls are around. He hasn’t been a problem since then, but he owes you an apology.”
Ruth raked her bronze hair back. “I chewed Davis out for assigning a man like Rafe to teach eight-year-old girls.”
Ethan nodded. “He felt bad about that, but he’s between a rock and a hard place. One of the female riding instructors went off to teach at a summer camp, and the backup teacher is Addie Donovan.”
“Oh. That’s awful. He didn’t tell me that.”
“He didn’t want to spook you, but he never should have assigned Rafe to the girls. Actually, I would have been uncomfortable taking the girls on without Kit along. You have to be careful when you work with children. It’s best to be cautious, for everyone’s sake.”
“I agree on that. It’s one thing to take some chances on your own, but when kids are involved, you’ve got to keep them safe.” She looked up and thanked the waitress, who placed a mug of beer in front of her. “I worry about Penny. But I came here with a mission, and I think I’m making some progress. Do you realize that the closest mental health professional is in Jackson?”
“That’s pretty far, though it’s not surprising for a town this size.”
“But Prairie Creek has grown, and it’s growing still. People in this town who need therapy are going to go without because they can’t make the trip. I’m here to change all that.”
“You’re moving at a pretty good clip. You’ve got your office set up next to Emma’s dress shop, and your hotline is up and running. I heard about it at Molly’s.”
“I’m glad the word’s getting out.”
“Any calls yet?” When she nodded, he smiled, his blue eyes glimmering with light from the late-afternoon sun. “I wish you luck. And once school starts, I’ll put the word out there. I have a pretty strong network of guys—mostly athletes—who come to me when they have issues. I’d like the girls to know there’s someone they can turn to.”
“Any way you can get my name out there, I’d appreciate it,” she said, “and no woman should worry about paying for counseling. Chrissy Nesbitt, the mayor’s wife, has convinced a charity to subsidize my services for clients in need.”
“That’s great, especially if this town is as crazy as you say.” Only the glimmer in his eyes hinted that he was poking fun at her.
Sipping the cold beer, she took a moment to enjoy the glow she felt in his presence. Throughout the week, she had tried to stay low key, but she had found herself looking forward to the brief moments she spent with him when she went to the ranch to drop off or retrieve Penny. Maybe it was because they had both left Wyoming and returned, or maybe it was just meant to be. She’d spent years holding back, suspicious and wary of men, and now, back at the source of her trauma, she’d found a man who filled the air around her with magic and warmth.
There was still wonder in the world.
“What are you thinking about with that lazy smile?” he asked.
“I’m thinking that you’re probably the only reasonable person left in this town. Besides me, of course.”
He ran his fingers over the condensation on his mug. “Does that psychobabble mean you like me?”
She laughed, feeling a flush of embarrassment. It was so “high school,” but then that was where it had started for her. “Well, yes.”
“Good, because I like you too. I’m hoping you and Penny will stick around awhile.”
Basking in the light of his eyes, she took another sip of beer and promised him that they weren’t going anywhere—even if Prairie Creek was riddled by threats.
“Who are these menacing figures you’ve encountered? If that’s not confidential.”
“One is a client, so I can’t talk about that. Then we have one of my parents’ neighbors—” She looked around to make sure none of the other early-dinner patrons were listening. “Calvin Haney. Do you know him?”
“Is he a member of our church?”
“He is. My mother says he’s an upstanding citizen, but I like to think of him as Creepy Cal.” She told him about the hose incident with the girls and Cal’s subsequent suggestive remarks. “Then there’s Jimmy Woodcock—you know about that. There’s the client and, of course, Rafe Dillinger. You know that story.”
“You’ve had more than your share of local color, but I have to say you’re pretty perceptive about people. Why do you think they’ve targeted you?”
“I . . .” She couldn’t tell him about the rape, although that was the source of her overriding caution. “I don’t know. Just a hunch,” she said with a shrug.
“What can I do to make your welcome back to Prairie Creek smoother?”
“You’ve already done a lot,” she said, opening her menu. “I’d like to buy you dinner as thanks for jumping in on the riding lessons.”
“That’s a nice gesture, but no.” He watched her intently. “I’m old school on some things. The guy pays for the first date.”
So it was a date. Something young and hopeful trilled inside her, and she looked down at the menu to mask her unadulterated joy. “Okay, thanks.” She smiled up at him. “In that case, I’ll have steak.”
*
From the Prairie Dog Saloon, he stared out through the warped, nicotine-stained glass at Ruthie McFerrron, the little girl with the big, round tits. There she sat, smack in the window of the café, a sitting duck. Maybe he should go back to her because after a suck-ass week of following Shiloh Silva from hill to dale, he was ready for something new. Damn Shiloh. She wasn’t the wild risk-taker she used to be. Now Beau Tate stuck to her like white on rice. She never went anywhere without him or the younger girl.
He was getting sick of sweating in the hot sun, his throat parched and gritty as he waited for the right moment to snatch up Shiloh. Damned tired. But maybe the waiting game was over.
Ruthie here was a woman alone. She lived with her daughter in a quiet area at the edge of town. Not even a dog to make things challenging. And her body was ripe and ready, with hips widened by childbearing, and those big, round plums with rosy nipples that would brush against him when he pinned her down.
Lifting the long-necked bottle to his lips, he let the cool liquid stream past his teeth as he willed his dick to behave for now. Finishing the beer with a grunt, he waved down the waitress and ordered another.
Just killing time.
*
That night, Ruth still basked in sweet recollections of her dinner with Ethan as she stood in the doorway of Penny’s room and watched her daughter sleeping. Penny’s small body was turned away, hugging her fluffy white dog, but the steady rise and fall of her shoulder was like a soothing mantra to Ruth.
Keep breathing.
Stay safe.
Stay alive.
Ruth’s contact with her new clients, women like Lily and Addie’s mother, had reinforced her purpose in coming back to Prairie Creek. And yet, at the same time, the close brush with crisis was a reminder that catastrophe struck every life at one time or another.