EARLY THE NEXT morning Lindy couldn’t figure out what had possessed her to agree to go on a trail ride with Wyatt Dodge today.
Originally, the plan had been for Jamie to take her. They had discussed that. But somehow, when she had still been awake, tossing and turning, her phone had dinged, and she had looked at it. She had seen his name and she had...
She didn’t know what she had wanted. Didn’t know what she had hoped.
She hadn’t expected an invitation to go riding. But she had found herself agreeing.
And then she had fallen into a fitful sleep, where she had dreamed of weird arguments with Wyatt, where they were bickering over where Grant was going to take her out to dinner.
Then she had woken up, relieved that she wasn’t actually going to dinner with Grant, but not all that relieved that she was going for a ride with Wyatt.
She scrubbed at her face and rolled out from beneath her down-filled duvet and grimaced as the chill in her bedroom settled over her skin.
One of the first things she had done when she had thrown Damien out was get a new mattress and a whole new bedroom set.
First of all, because she had always wanted a lovely, white bedspread with some artful accent pillows, and Damien had insisted they have something that was “for both of them and not just her.” Which had clearly meant, for him. Darker colors, to go with the heavy, dark wood frame that had gone with the bed. As he had gone, so had that.
But, she had also needed a new mattress, because she had very little confidence that he had never taken another woman to their bed, and she would be damned if she was spending one more moment sleeping on a mattress her husband had had sex with someone else on.
There were a great many chances to experience indignity in life, and she had been on the receiving end of that a few times. Damien was just lucky she had offered him the mattress instead of burning it like she had initially wanted to do.
She knew people didn’t believe it. Even her own mother thought she had just married Damien for his money. And that she had happily cut and run when she’d discovered his infidelity in part because she had never wanted him.
But she had. She had loved him. She had believed that he had loved her too. That he hadn’t cared where she had come from. That she had been enough for him.
What an idiot she’d turned out to be.
She wasn’t sure what was worse: letting everyone know just what an idiot she was, or letting them continue to believe that she was a heartless gold digger.
She had a feeling that public opinion on her was split down the middle.
But Wyatt thought that Damien was an idiot.
Which was perhaps why she felt even the tiniest bit charitable toward him. Was perhaps why she wasn’t so completely opposed to going on a trail ride with him today.
She ruminated on that while she got dressed. She found a pair of nice jeans—much more casual than she would normally wear—and a dark-colored button-up top that wouldn’t show any dirt she might pick up during the ride.
She pinned her blond hair back in a low bun and looked at her reflection critically. She was hardly recognizable as the person she used to be. The person she’d been before she had started dating Damien.
She was sleeker now. Much more sophisticated.
She used to be proud of that. The distance she had put between herself and what she’d been. Now, it felt a little bit like a poisoned chalice. After all, she was partly who she was because of Damien. And she... In the end, she despised what he stood for. What he could allow. What had been acceptable to him.
He had asked her one time to forgive him. Had told her that she was making a big mistake throwing their marriage away over a physical relationship.
He had said that sex didn’t matter.
But sex had mattered when she’d been a twenty-year-old virgin, cautiously giving him her body. He had said that it meant the world then. And that even though he had been with a couple of other women they didn’t matter, not in light of what sex between them meant. Because he’d said that with her it had been love. It had been everything.
After being married to the man for ten years she was supposed to believe that sex could also be nothing. As long as it was shared with someone else. Even though he had made vows to her.
She had wanted to scream. She had wanted to cry. To let her inner trailer park out, throw something at him, call him a string of foul names. But she hadn’t been able to. She’d been frozen. Frozen inside the body, inside the image that they had created together.
She hadn’t shed a single tear. Not then, not after.
She had simply told him no. That there was nothing left for them. That there would be no future for the two of them. Not after a betrayal like that.
He had gotten angry after that. He had blamed the dissolution of their marriage on her.
And after that...he had told her there was no other chance to get back with him. That he was leaving her for the other woman. That he was in love with her, and it didn’t mean nothing. That she was the most important relationship in his life.
Not Lindy.
She sighed heavily, turning away from her reflection. She wasn’t going to bother with any makeup beyond a tiny bit of mascara and some clear lipgloss anyway.
Odds were high that she’d end up with allergies, and she didn’t need a whole ton of eye makeup running down her face thanks to the horse and the pollen that would no doubt be swirling around them in the vineyard.
It was warm out, but still, she debated whether or not she should put out a pair of boots or a pair of tennis shoes. Ultimately, she decided on the tennis shoes, even though they did not make her outfit look as sharp as the boots would have.
She made her way downstairs, walking through the large, empty house, taking in the details. They spoke to the fact that it was now her house, and not a shared dwelling.
Her foot hit the landing and she made for the front door.
“Good morning,” came a scratchy, male voice coming from the direction of the dining area.
She jumped, pressing her hand to her chest. Then she remembered that she wasn’t alone.
“Dane,” she snapped, making her way from the entry and into the dining room, where her brother sat, his hat on the table in front of him, a cup of coffee on his left. The table was long, and always far too formal-looking. But with Dane at it, it bordered on ludicrous. “I forgot you were here.”
“Sorry.”
“Then don’t look so amused.”
“Sorry,” he said again.
“When are you heading out?”
“In about an hour. It’s a bit of a drive.”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
“Where are you headed? In jeans,” he said, lifting his brows.
He had known her when they were kids. When holey jeans and sneakers were her uniform. If even Dane was surprised to see her dressed down now, she truly had changed.
“I have to go in to my office.” Her office, which was just across the property in the back of the Grassroots dining room. “And then I’m going for a sample trail ride.”
“A sample trail ride, huh?”
“Yes. I need to know exactly what we are offering our guests, after all.”
“Very responsible.”
“I like to think I am.”
“Are you happy?”
She blinked, regarding her younger brother closely. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like it means. Are you happy?”
“No,” she said. “I mean... What’s happiness, Dane?”
“If I remember back to what they taught us in kindergarten, it’s a feeling.”
“You know what I mean. I’m tired right now. This has been a stressful couple of years. I’m not going to lie to you about that. But I’m accomplishing things. I’m taking this... I’m making it mine.” Suddenly, she realized how important that was. To be more than Damien’s creation. For this winery to be more than his creation.
For her life to be more than his creation.
“Sure,” Dane said, reaching out and pressing his hand over the top of his cowboy hat. Then, he lifted it and put it on his head. “Just don’t forget to have fun sometimes.”
“You have enough fun for the both of us, I think.” She tried not to sound bitter about that, she really did. She was pretty sure she failed.
“No one said you couldn’t have fun, Lin,” he said, standing up and moving over to where she was rooted by the doorway.
“I...” She sighed, feeling defensive and hating that she did. “It’s not the same. For me. You’ve made success out of being kind of a rebel. That’s not going to work for...”
“For someone who wasn’t a bull rider.”
“For a woman,” she finished. “Anyway. I already have enough working against me. I can’t go out and be crazy. I just... I want to make this place so successful that people forget what I used to be. I want to go so far beyond what Damien ever would have done that no one will think of it as something I took from him. Because they’ll know that he could never have achieved all of this.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.”
“Now, that is true,” Dane said. “If you were a rider, the bulls would be afraid of you.”
“Thank you,” she said, not caring if he meant it as a compliment or not. She took it as one.
“You’re scary.”
She sighed heavily. “Thank you. Again.” She edged toward the door and Dane took that as a solid cue.
“See you later,” he said.
“See you.” She hesitated for a second, and then she stepped forward and gave him a hug. “Be careful, okay?” Dane went tense for a moment, then rested an uneasy hand on the center of her back, his interpretation of a hug, she supposed.
“Lindy, I can’t be careful. It’s literally my job to go out and do something stupid now.”
“I know. I love you, Dane. I want you to be safe.”
“I’ll be as safe as I can be.”
He tipped his hat, and she shoved his chest. That was about as sincere as they got.
She walked out of the house, and made her way down the beautifully manicured cobblestone path that led to the main grounds of the winery. A place like this... It would have been beyond her wildest dreams to even visit when she was growing up. Now, she lived here.
The fact that she lived here alone was something she preferred not to focus on.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine, the cold, fresh smell of the river beyond the grove of trees that enclosed Grassroots Winery.
The sun filtered through the tops of the evergreens, making the needles look like tinsel. Like Christmas in June.
This place belonged to her, not just legally, but in some real, inextricable way. The way that it wound around her soul, the grapevines entwined with who she was... The exhaustion she had felt a moment before when she had been talking to Dane seemed to vanish. By the time she got down to the dining area, it was gone.
Sabrina’s car was already in the parking lot when Lindy arrived, and she pushed the door open to find her friend sitting at one of the tables working on inventory.
“Taking orders down to Copper Ridge?” Lindy asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sabrina said, looking up and smiling. Then, she got a look at Lindy’s outfit and frowned. “You’re wearing jeans?”
“Weirdly,” Lindy said, “it’s only 8:00 a.m. and you’re the second person to comment on that.”
Sabrina’s eyes widened further. “I’m the second...”
“Dane is staying at my house,” she said. “Whatever you’re thinking...stop it.”
“Okay. I was wondering if I had missed more not going out last night than I thought.”
“You didn’t miss anything,” she said.
“We were going to come,” Sabrina said. “We got...distracted.” The word was laden with meaning that was impossible to miss.
Lindy rolled her eyes. “Spare me.”
“If you’re jealous, you could always find someone to deal with your physical frustration...”
“I’m not physically frustrated enough to deal with the emotional frustration that comes with having a man in your life.”
That much was true. Anyway, she was so exhausted she couldn’t fathom trying to make room in her life for a lover.
She gritted her teeth, trying to keep visions of Wyatt out of her brain.
Wyatt Dodge, and the fact that she found him attractive, had nothing to do with that.
“Indulge me,” Sabrina said. “Why are you wearing jeans?”
“I’m going out for a trail ride,” she said crisply.
“A trail ride?”
“I know that you are aware of the route and everything that’s going to be used for the ride that Get Out of Dodge is going to conduct on winery property. But I haven’t actually seen it.”
“So, Jamie is going to take you out?” Sabrina laughed. “I would pay to see you on a horse.”
“I do know how to ride. And, Jamie isn’t taking me.”
Sabrina lifted a brow. “Who is taking you?”
“Wyatt,” Lindy said, trying to sound casual.
“So, you’re wearing jeans. For Wyatt.”
“No. I’m wearing jeans to ride a horse, because a pencil skirt would necessitate me riding sidesaddle. Which isn’t happening. I don’t even think they make sidesaddles anymore.”
“I’m sure they do,” Sabrina said, “but that’s beside the point.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“He gets under your skin,” Sabrina pointed out.
“Yes,” Lindy said, “he does. Because he’s that kind of guy. That cocky, arrogant asshole that thinks he can get away with anything. That thinks a smile and his easy charm is going to cover up any mistake he might make.”
“He’s not Damien,” Sabrina pointed out.
That forced Lindy to compare. Damien’s slick charm versus Wyatt’s rough, down-home variety. Damien would never give a woman a hard time, never tease the way Wyatt did. He’d only lie. Pretending to love, honor and cherish while he snuck around.
She couldn’t imagine Wyatt sneaking.
Wyatt was a full-blown hurricane. And hurricanes didn’t sneak.
She didn’t like that they weren’t as similar as she wanted to pretend they were. Because as long as Wyatt was just Damien in different clothes, it was easy to convince herself she wanted nothing to do with him.
Well, easy was a stretch.
“Too similar,” she said anyway.
“Is there any man you wouldn’t think was too similar right now?”
“No,” Lindy said. “I’m not in the market. Like I said, I have too much to do.”
“Right. I mean, I get you. I was you.”
“That’s different. You didn’t date because you fell in love with Liam Donnelly fourteen years ago, and it never changed. Even when he left. I’m not still in love with Damien. I’m not hung up on him. I’m trying to make my way on my own for a while. When I have a handle on that...then maybe I’ll worry about bringing someone else into my life.”
“A physical relationship doesn’t have to intrude on that,” Sabrina said, looking innocent.
“If I want to place an ad online I’ll remember that.”
“Why place an ad?” Sabrina asked, her tone saccharine. “You’re going on a trail ride with Wyatt later.”
“Did you not hear me the first time? I’m immune to men like him. Anyway, I have to work with him. That puts him squarely off-limits.”
Sabrina shrugged. “Suit yourself. But whenever you two are in the same room it feels like there is literal electricity in the air. If I were you... I would be tempted to see where that might end.”
“I know where it ends,” she said. “Divorce court.”
“It was like that between you and Damien?”
It wasn’t a leading question, but a genuine one. And Lindy wished that she could say it had been. That the strange undercurrent that existed between herself and Wyatt was just old hat to her. Nothing she hadn’t navigated before.
But it was like something else entirely. So different that most of the time she tried to pretend it was irritation, that it wasn’t attraction at all.
But then...
Then she was reminded of that first moment she’d seen him. Five years ago. With her husband’s ring on her finger.
They’d been traveling together that year for Damien’s work with the rodeo, and that had meant more nights in honky-tonks than she cared for. But she’d gone anyway.
She’d gone to meet Damien after an event one night. And he’d been there, sitting on a bar stool across the room. He’d looked at her. Which was nothing. Nothing new, nothing extraordinary. People looked at each other every day.
This had been like a lightning strike. Electric. Immobilizing.
Lethal.
She’d had to force herself to keep moving forward, and the whole time he’d stared.
His brown eyes locked on to hers, his expression filled with a kind of intensity she had never seen before.
It had been like her entire body had been hollowed out, making room for this feeling that he had created and placed inside of her. There had been nothing but that. For a full thirty seconds. Nothing else existed outside of it. Not her life. Not her marriage.
Then Damien had stood up, smiled, grabbed hold of her and introduced her as his wife.
It had been like watching a train she had been meant to catch move away from the station, far ahead of her, going somewhere she would never be able to follow.
After that, she felt like she’d been slapped in the face by reality. And whatever feeling she had felt moments before had been replaced completely by anger. Resentment.
At him. As unfair as it was.
“Yes,” she said, her throat dry. “It’s just a little bit of a spark. I’m a woman. He’s a man. It’s nothing...” Again, she flashed back to that first moment in that bar, when the earth had shifted beneath her feet. “Nothing I haven’t felt before. Nothing I won’t feel again. If you don’t catch one train, another will always be by,” she said, in defiance of that earlier metaphor that had passed through her mind.
“If you say so.”
“I do. And I have work to do.”
“Okay,” Sabrina said, writing on the order form in front of her with a flourish. “I have to get down to town. Enjoy your ride.”
Lindy clenched her teeth. “Oh, I will. I will.”