Sunrise Vows Read online

  She didn’t do well at social gatherings. Abby and Colette both possessed a confident charm that madeit easy for them to revel in crowds, but Belinda found that crowd-pleasing charm didn’t come naturally to her.

  There was another reason she was reluctant to join the fun. She knew Derek would be inside. It seemed he’d shadowed her all week long. Every time she turned around, she saw him in the distance, watching her like a hawk eyeing prey.

  Still, it was ridiculous to sit in her car any longer. Janice would probably already be frantic, wondering where she was, and in their short friendship Belinda had learned that Janice’s temper was an awesome thing to behold.

  She got out of her car and walked toward the rear of the building, vowing to try to enjoy the evening no matter what. Drawing a deep breath, she stepped inside. Sights, smells and sounds immediately overwhelmed her. She and Janice and a handful of other people had worked all afternoon to transform the large sterile room into a fall festival. Bales of hay provided sitting niches. Plump pumpkins and colorful Indian corn complimented the scenery.

  The scents of apple cider, homemade breads and cakes added to the people smells of perfume and fresh-scrubbed skin.

  The noise level was tolerable…barely. A group of teenage boys who thought themselves countrywestern musicians had been hired to play for the night and they warmed up on the stage, producing a variety of guitar squeals and drumrolls.

  Janice stood behind the refreshment table. Spying Belinda, she motioned her over with a wave of her hand. “Thank goodness you’re here. I thought maybe you’d chickened out on me,” she exclaimed as Belinda joined her. “Wow, you look terrific. Is that new?”

  Belinda nodded and smoothed the skirt of the cinnamon-colored dress. “I couldn’t resist it.”

  “How do you like mine?” Janice twirled to display the electric blue outfit she wore.

  “It looks great, but you might want to watch bending over,” Belinda observed, noting the plunging neckline that barely contained her friend’s attributes.

  Janice laughed. “You know what they say, in order to sell them you’ve got to display them.”

  “Any more of a display and you’ll be arrested for indecent exposure,” Belinda replied.

  Janice laughed again. “Come on, help me cut up this pumpkin bread and put it on a platter.”

  Belinda worked efficiently, cutting up first the loaf of pumpkin bread, then doing the same with a loaf of banana bread. As she worked, she felt her skin prickle in sudden awareness, as if a lightning bolt was about to strike nearby.

  She looked up and her gaze met Derek’s. He leaned against the wall near the front door, arms folded across his broad chest. Although Bear stood next to him, chatting and grinning at each group of people that came in the door, Derek seemed to pay his friend no notice. His sole concentration appeared to be on Belinda.

  For a long moment his gaze captured hers, his eyes holding hers prisoner. She felt as if she’d fallen into their dark depths, where memories of passion resided, memories of summer nights and heated caresses, of whispered promises and sighs of pleasure.

  “You cut that any thinner, we might as well serve air.”

  Janice’s voice snapped Belinda’s attention from Derek to her task at hand. She realized she’d been cutting the bread into pieces too small to serve. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and refocused her concentration on what she was doing.

  Still her skin prickled and she knew Derek watched her, but she didn’t dare look in his direction. She didn’t want to encourage any interaction between them whatsoever.

  “Well, he hasn’t gotten fat,” Janice said. Belinda knew immediately who she was talking about.

  “I know, I spoke to him a couple of days ago.” Belinda looked at her friend. “He had some crazy idea about the two of us marrying.”

  “What?” Janice’s eyes widened. She pulled Belinda away from the table, back into a corner. “Tell all.”

  Belinda frowned, regretting what had blurted out of her without volition. “It was just some crazy idea he had. Seems he needs a temporary wife to get custody of his niece and nephew.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “Of course not,” Belinda scoffed. “I told you last week, my relationship with Derek is the past.”

  “Obviously he doesn’t feel the same way,” Janice observed. She looked across the room and Belinda knew she eyed Derek, but Belinda didn’t follow her gaze.

  “Come on, let’s get back to the table. I see people drifting over for apple cider.”

  For the next hour or so Belinda was grateful that the room was warm and people thirsty. At least while she served refreshments she found it easier to keep thoughts of Derek at bay.

  The band began playing and the floor filled up with twirling couples. The music stirred rhythm in everyone. Even Belinda found her foot tapping to the lively beat. She smiled as she spied Cody dancing with Abby, his features in painful concentration as he maneuvered his mother around the floor.

  Roger Eaton had his hands full trying to keep up with Janice who resembled an electric blue flame as she gyrated to the music. Belinda smiled to herself, watching the ranch hand ogle Janice. Poor Roger, Janice would eat him alive.

  “Hi, Belinda.”

  Belinda smiled at the solidly built cowboy in front of her. “Hey, Bulldog, you having a good time?”

  He nodded, his moon face beaming with a smile. “I gotta new shirt to wear.” He smoothed his big hands down the front of the checkered shirt.

  “It’s very nice,” Belinda replied. “You look real handsome.”

  He blushed, the tips of his ears shining bright red. Affectionate warmth spread through Belinda for Bulldog. With his Herculean build and mind of a child, he had enough heart to more than compensate for any lack of learning ability.

  “I was thinking of asking Rhonda Grover to dance, but I’m kinda scared. I never danced with a woman before.”

  Belinda looked over to where Rhonda sat alone on a bale of hay. The young woman, though painfully shy, was known for having a sweet nature. “Why don’t you have a little practice dance with me, then maybe you wouldn’t be so afraid of asking Rhonda,” Belinda suggested.

  Bulldog smiled again. “That’s a good idea. I always need to practice stuff.”

  Belinda showed Bulldog where to put his hands and they swayed to the music. Although the beat was fast, their feet barely moved. Initial tenseness knotted his body, but after a few moments he began to relax.

  “You’re doing very well,” Belinda said.

  “This ain’t so hard.” He frowned. “You think Rhonda will notice…you know, my face?”

  Belinda eyed the big cowboy who had become as much a part of her family as her sisters’ husbands. Although the fire at their ranch had been more than two months ago, Bulldog’s singed eyebrows had just started to grow back. That, combined with a residual redness, gave his face a rather startling appearance.

  “I’m sure Rhonda has heard about the fire and what you did. She’ll just think you have a hero’s face.”

  A beatific smile once again lit his features. “A hero’s face. That’s nice.”

  “Can I cut in?” Derek’s voice interrupted Bulldog’s rhythm and he stumbled and stepped squarely on Belinda’s foot.

  “It’s all right,” Belinda assured Bulldog as he gazed at her in horror. “Stepping on toes often happens in dancing.” She studiously ignored Derek.

  “I’d like a turn at stepping on her toes,” Derek said to the big man.

  Belinda wanted to protest, to tell Bulldog she didn’t want to dance with Derek. She didn’t want to feel his arms around her, but she also didn’t want to make a scene. “It’s okay, Bulldog,” she finally said reluctantly. “Why don’t you go on over and ask Rhonda to dance? You’ll be fine.”

  Bulldog looked from Derek to Belinda, as if assuring himself that everything was all right. “Don’t you step on her feet too hard now,” he said to Derek, then turned and walked off in the direction o
f Rhonda.

  As Derek took her in his arms, the fast-beat music segued to a slower popular tune. Belinda held herself stiff, unyielding against his achingly familiar embrace.

  His flannel shirt was soft beneath her fingertips, but the muscles beneath were firm, evoking memories of how that sun-bronzed flesh had felt naked beneath her caresses.

  “You look lovely tonight,” he said.

  She tilted her head back to look at his face. “If you think flattery will make me agree to your crazy scheme, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  He smiled, although again she noticed no humor touched the darkness of his eyes. “I don’t use flattery to manipulate. It was a simple statement, intended at face value. You do look lovely.”

  “Thank you,” she answered stiffly, hating herself for being unable to control the blush that heated her cheeks.

  “What happened to Bulldog’s face? Looks like he got a bad burn.”

  “He did. You remember Rusty, our foreman?” He nodded and she continued. “A couple of months ago Rusty tried to burn down our house with Luke and Abby inside. Bulldog helped them get out and in the process suffered some burns.”

  She immediately felt Derek’s body tense and guessed what he was thinking about. “I’m pretty sure Rusty would have had no reason to start the fire that burned your family out.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, think I’ll mention the possibility when I talk to Junior. I’ve been so busy with the rebuilding of the house this past week I haven’t had a chance to get into the investigation of the fire.”

  As the music stopped she tried to move away from his embrace, but he held her tight. “I heard through the grapevine that the bank denied Abby’s request for extended credit.”

  Belinda sighed. “Sometimes I think the only thing that works well around here is the damned grapevine.”

  Derek laughed, the deep sound wrapping around her with a renewed burst of memories. “You should know by now the grapevine is one of the hazards of small community living.”

  “Well I certainly don’t want to give them anything else to talk about, so if you’ll excuse me.” She managed to extricate herself from his hold and step away.

  “Belinda, my offer still stands. I could make things easier on you and your sisters if you’d agree to my terms.”

  “My price for selling my soul is much higher than the worth of our ranch,” she retorted, then whirled around and stomped off the dance floor.

  DEREK WATCHED her as she made her way through the crowd back to the refreshment table. Her perfume lingered after her, eddying in his head with dizzying familiarity.

  He’d forgotten the scent of her, the sweet smell of honeysuckle that had always been her trademark. He hadn’t lied, she looked beautiful. The rust-colored dress brought out the blue of her eyes and emphasized her fading summer tan.

  He couldn’t lie to himself, part of his reason for coming back here had been his haunting memories of Belinda. He’d loved her once. Desperately. With all the emotion a twenty-two-year-old could maintain. But that had been when he’d been capable of love.

  Besides, at almost twenty years old, Belinda had professed her love for him, had promised to love him forever, but she certainly hadn’t fought very hard to keep their love intact. She’d allowed him to walk out of her life without a whimper.

  As he walked back to where Bear leaned against the wall, Derek saw Henry Carsworth approaching him. He stifled a groan.

  Derek had first met the short, squat man when he’d shown up at Derek’s mother’s and father’s home not long after the fire had destroyed their ranch. He’d indicated an interest in buying the property. At that time Derek’s father had hoped to rebuild and turned Carsworth’s offer down. Throughout the past three years Carsworth had been as tenacious as a tick, writing or showing up from time to time with a new offer to buy.

  “Walker.” Henry greeted Derek with a friendly nod. “Heard you were back in town.”

  “You heard right.” Derek eyed the pseudo cowboy with a touch of amusement. When Derek had first met him, he’d been in a three-piece suit and looked every inch the successful California businessman. Obviously at some point in the passing years Henry Carsworth had gone Western.

  His expensive jeans were held around his bulk by a leather belt with a buckle as big as a dinner plate. Custom-made cowboy boots added several inches to his minimal height and a sprout of dark hair decorated the space between his nose and upper lip.

  “I guess you finally got your wish and bought a place out here,” Derek said.

  “Actually, I’m living at the Manor Boarding House right now, although I’m hopeful I’ll be settling into my own place before winter sets in.” Carsworth grinned, the bloodless smile of a businessman first, an affable cowboy second. “’Course if you weren’t so damned stubborn, I’d already be settled in here.”

  Derek smiled thinly. “Our property has been in our family for several generations. Even if I hadn’t decided to rebuild, I’d have never sold.”

  “Your place and the Connors’ ranch have the best grazing land around here. Yours might not be on the market, but I don’t think the Connors are going to be able to hang on much longer.” He withdrew a fat cigar from his breast pocket.

  “I wouldn’t count the Connors down and out yet,” Derek replied.

  Henry nodded. “Those Connor women are tough broads, but they can’t fight reality. They got the best grazing land, and not enough cattle to make it pay. Financially, they’re a mess.” He paused long enough to light the cigar. He drew deeply on it, then released a smoke ring. He watched for a moment as the ring climbed in the air, then turned back to Derek and grinned. “I can be a patient man. I don’t like it, but I can be patient. And I have a feeling if I just wait a while, the Connor ranch will be mine.” He clapped Derek on the back. “See you around, neighbor,” he said, then walked toward the refreshment table.

  Tough broads. Derek looked over to where Belinda was now dancing with Sheriff Junior Blanchard. Of the three sisters, Belinda had always struck Derek as the least tough. When in the company of her sisters, she seemed to disappear, unwilling to compete with Abby’s confidence and Colette’s vivaciousness.

  “Still waters,” his mother had said about Belinda.

  At the time Derek had smiled, believing he knew Belinda’s heart, her soul, like no other man ever would. But that was a long time ago.

  He no longer knew what was in her heart, in her soul, except that she’d retained a bitter resentment toward him. That’s what you wanted, a small voice whispered inside him.

  It was a curious paradox. He wanted to marry her, to protect her from harm, but he had to maintain the resentment that would forever keep her heart from his, the resentment that would make it easy to walk away from each other when the need for the marriage passed.

  His gaze shifted from Belinda back to Henry Carsworth. Somehow he wasn’t surprised Henry was here. When Derek had met him in California, the little man had displayed an absolute obsession to live in or around the Cheyenne area.

  Would Carsworth’s desire to live on a ranch in Wyoming extend to murder to gain what he wanted? Was it possible Carsworth intended to kill Belinda in some twisted scheme to get the Connor ranch?

  He looked back at Belinda, who was once again dancing with Bulldog. He knew his idea for a marriage of convenience was crazy, but he didn’t know what else to do. Somebody wanted him to know she was in danger. Somebody expected him to come running back to protect her. He could never allow himself to love her again, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing while somebody tried to harm her.

  Somebody had threatened to kill her, and Derek wanted to make sure whoever it was had to come through him first.

  Chapter Three

  Belinda breathed a sigh of relief as she finished washing the large punch bowl and placed it on the shelf in the kitchen of the community building. Although the band had agreed to play for another hour, the refreshment committee had decided to stop serving an
d contend with the cleanup.

  “Whew, that’s it,” Janice said as she entered the compact kitchen area. “I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

  “Me, too.” Belinda pulled her car keys from her purse. “Is your car still in the shop? You need a ride home?”

  “Yes, my car is still in the shop, but I talked Daddy into letting me take one off the lot, so I’ve got my own wheels for the night.” She flashed a quick smile. “There are definite benefits to having a father who owns a used car lot.”

  Belinda returned the smile. “I’m out of here. Call me sometime this week. We’ll have lunch.”

  Waving goodbye to her friend, Belinda slipped out the back door and walked around the building to her car. Grateful to be out of the noise, away from the crowd, she drew in a deep breath of the chill autumn night air.

  More than anything, she was grateful to be away from Derek’s dark and steady gaze. His gaze had followed her throughout the evening, probing…haunting…demanding her attention.

  Damn him for coming back here and disrupting her life with his very presence. Damn him for even mentioning his crazy marriage scheme, a scheme that refused to vacate her mind no matter how she tried to forget it.

  She sighed tiredly as she turned off onto the rural road that would take her home. She hit her high beams to illuminate the narrow, tree-lined road, still struggling against thoughts of Derek.

  In that brief moment when they’d danced together, she’d realized a sudden truth. As she’d felt his heartbeat against her own, as his scent had surrounded her with evocative familiarity, she’d realized it was possible to hate and desire at the same time.

  She’d always believed that passion—desire—grew from love, but in that moment of being held by Derek, she’d realized it was possible for one to have little to do with the other.