Betting the Rainbow (Harmony) Read online

  When they pulled to the shoulder of Rainbow Lane, Mr. Carleon got out to shine a flashlight while she stepped over two recently fallen trees and walked the few feet to where she’d stored her ATV. It was almost dark, but the trees lined the old road down to the cabin, throwing it into shadows.

  “You sure you’ll be all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll be in the cabin before full dark.” As always, she wanted to hug the dear guardian angel who’d been watching over her for so long, but she didn’t. He wouldn’t have thought it was proper.

  The need to be alone seemed to push her to drive the mule faster. The memory of all the people at the bar, their voices, their smells pressed down on her. She wanted her swing and her blanket. She wanted the night so she could relax alone.

  She was almost to the cabin when darkness settled in around her. The headlights blinked from one tree to another, reminding her of the opening to a horror film.

  Ronny forced herself to slow down. Leaning forward, she gripped the wheel and mentally figured out how many minutes before she’d be home. Five at this speed. Maybe six before she rounded the cabin. The trail from Rainbow Lane had been built to wind around trees, not cut straight through to the lake.

  A flash in the night, like a snapshot blast, blinked something big and black in the middle of the road. It was almost the height of a deer but three or four times wider. Teeth and tusks reflected milky white in the headlights.

  Ronny veered off the road, fighting her way past saplings as tall as the ATV but only an inch thick.

  She heard the animal’s snort, half growl, half squeal, but she didn’t turn to look. Anything that frightening at first glance had to be dangerous, maybe deadly.

  A few heartbeats later she saw a huge tree blocking her path ten feet ahead. She had to turn toward the animal or crash.

  Ronny gripped the wheel, turning right as the lights flashed back to the trail in time to see the short-legged beast vanish on the far side. He left broken bushes and branches in his wake.

  Gunning the engine, she held on tight as she bumped down the road as fast as she could go. She had to get to the cabin fast before he decided to turn around.

  Gulping for air, she fought frantically to concentrate on driving until the ATV’s lights flashed on the cabin. She saw her porch swing. Her quiet place by the water. Austin Hawk sitting calmly on the steps. All looked peaceful.

  It took a moment for her to react. She hit the brakes and managed to stop with the left front tire bumping the porch steps.

  Austin swore, jumping out of the way as if he feared she might be planning to mow him down. He was dressed in khaki pants and khaki shirt with a rifle strapped over one shoulder as casually as if it were a satchel.

  Ronny climbed from the seat, shaking so badly she wasn’t sure she could stand. “I . . . I . . . saw a pig.”

  Austin lowered his rifle to the porch and moved swiftly toward her. His arms circled around her as he laughed. “Run into porky, did you? I saw him once at dawn, but I didn’t think he’d come too close.”

  “He’s so ugly.” She forced a slow breath, feeling suddenly safe. “And his teeth. You can’t imagine his teeth!”

  “Yes, I can. I know. I was close enough to shake hands with him before I noticed him sleeping in the weeds.” He brushed his big hand over her short hair and smiled as it curled back into place. “I dropped by to tell you to watch out for him.” Austin’s words were casual, but his touch seemed gentle along her back, almost caring.

  Ronny stepped away. Marty had been too much with her tonight to allow her to take even comfort from another. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll be fine. You needn’t have worried.” Her back straightened, pulling her emotions in check.

  Looking up, she expected to see hurt in his forest-green eyes, but she saw no feelings at all. He could have been a ticket taker at one of the hundred trains she’d ridden in the past year. She was just someone passing through. Men saw her as no one worth even the time to smile at her.

  Austin Hawk shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away without looking back.

  That night, in her dreams, Ronny looked for him. The background of her dream was a county fair like the ones that pull up in a vacant lot and stay for a week. Electric lights kept blinking on and off at odd intervals, and faceless people walked among the trees decorated with carnival prizes. She was darting among worn-out rides and small groups huddled together laughing, unaware that she was looking for Austin.

  When she woke the dream hung in her mind, almost a memory. Standing, she stared out the window and thought she could barely make out his big house on the other side of the willows. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been the one lost in her dream, not her.

  A little after nine, Ronny called Mr. Carleon and asked him to buy her a gun.

  He hesitated for a moment, then said he would.

  If Ronny left the safety of her cabin again, she planned to be armed.

  Chapter 8

  BUFFALO’S BAR

  HALFWAY THROUGH THE SECOND SET AT BUFFALO’S BAR, Dusti finally got a few minutes to talk to shy Kieran alone.

  They walked out on the long patio Harley had added to the front of his establishment. The bar owner claimed it classed up the place, but no one believed that staring at the muddy parking lot added anything to the ambience. Harley had even offered half-price hot wings in the fresh air, but apparently everyone wanted bar air.

  Kieran navigated around scattered lawn furniture to the farthest empty table and pulled her chair out for her.

  “Thanks,” Dusti said, falling into the plastic with more swiftness than grace. “You’re a good dancer. Where’d you learn to two-step in Scotland?”

  He took the seat across from her. “I haven’t lived in Scotland since I left for college. For the past few years I’ve been based in New York and, believe it or not, they do have country-western bars in New York City.”

  “I’m not surprised. They have everything there. I’d love to go someday just to see so many people crowded together.”

  “It is fun. New York reminds me of London.”

  She’d noticed his accent came and went. Sometimes she swore she heard the Highlander in his voice, and then he’d speed up and the New Yorker would come out.

  Dusti couldn’t help wondering what accent he used when he made love. Maybe he used different languages depending on what he was doing. Maybe he just stayed silent.

  She mentally slammed a club against her head. That was her problem: From the first time she talked to a man she started visualizing him in bed. A few times the scene was so horrible she stayed on the straight and narrow, but more often in her late teens and early twenties, she “went to sin city,” like her mother used to say. Luckily, her mother only knew of a few of her trips.

  When Abby left for college, the family didn’t have enough money for Dusti to go away to school, so she went wild for a few years. Then her father died of a sudden heart attack. Dusti took on the extra load. Within a year, her mother got sick and Dusti took on all the load. Partying on Saturday nights now and then was her only release. She thought of them as midnight breaks; after all, college kids got spring break. When she went crazy, Dusti didn’t much care who she was with.

  “You’re a good dancer too, lass.” Kieran broke into her thoughts. “I like a girl who’s not afraid to lead now and then.”

  Dusti realized she hadn’t been following the conversation. “Thanks,” she managed to say as she leaned closer. “I didn’t just want to dance, Kieran. I wanted to talk to you.”

  The clipped New Yorker replaced the Highlander. “Shoot.”

  “I heard about a poker game and I plan to enter.”

  “So do I,” he said, making everything plain from the first.

  “Only I have one problem and I thought you might help. Would you consider teaching me to play? I know th
e rules. I know how it works, but I’d like to know how to win.”

  His big body shrugged in the shadow. “Even if I teach you, I’ll still win, so wouldn’t it be a waste of time?”

  “I just need to make it to the money at the end. You can take home the top pot next time.”

  “Why should I teach you to play?” His grin gave no hint of whether he was kidding. “I don’t see any advantage in it for me other than having one more person to beat.”

  “I can pay you in eggs and pecans. A year’s supply.”

  “I’d have trouble getting eggs home and I don’t eat nuts. In fact, just sitting next to someone eating them on the plane makes me swell up and have trouble breathing.”

  Dusti crossed her arms over her chest. “Teach me to play and you can name your prize. Anything.”

  She studied her hands. Abby was right, this was a crazy gamble and without the help of someone like Kieran, she didn’t have a chance. It was also the only hope of a way out that she’d thought of in three years.

  He stared at her. “You, Dusti.” His voice was low in the midnight breeze. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I saw you that summer when you were about twelve and I was maybe fourteen. You were wilder, running the land, swimming the lake, than Austin and I could ever be. That black braid of yours dancing down your back when you ran and your laughter stuck in my brain long after I left that summer.”

  There went her mind again, back to tangled sheets. She got out the mental club and slammed the idea out of her brain. “What exactly are you asking?” Treat it like any other negotiation.

  He was silent for a few minutes, then bumped his knee against her leg. “Come on, what have you got to lose? We could swim in the moonlight again, only this time we wouldn’t be kids.”

  She forced herself not to jump. She’d hear him out. If the price was too high, she’d walk away, but she wanted this dream for Abby. Her sister was the good one, the Florence Nightingale. She was a year away from her goal of being a nurse. If Dusti couldn’t follow her dream, at least Abby would get a chance to follow hers.

  Dusti tried not to think about what she’d pay for lessons. Kieran was good looking, but who knew what he was into? After all, he’d been to New York City and London.

  “If I teach you to play—”

  “And I make it into the money in the finals,” she added.

  “And you make it into the money,” he repeated, “then you pay the price. You go out with me on a real date, anywhere I say, anytime I say. I’m based in New York, but I travel several times a year. I can’t remember the last time I spent an evening with a beautiful woman.”

  “Would dancing be involved?” She thought about asking if sex was expected, but she didn’t want to give him any ideas.

  “Dancing, dinner, drinks. I’ll even toss in a drive in the moonlight. We dress up and go out on the town.”

  She grinned. If he picked Harmony, that would be dinner at the diner, then walking across to Buffalo’s. Or they could drive to Amarillo and have a few dozen great places to eat, then take in a movie. The moonlight drive would take two hours each way. “All right. When do we start the lessons?”

  “I’ll drop by for breakfast tomorrow morning. If I’m going to teach you, we only have a very short window for you to learn, and I promised my grandmother I’d build her more bookshelves before I leave. She naps most of the morning these days. Says some parts of her body don’t wake up till after lunch and the soaps are over.”

  “All right. I still have a farm to run, so no more than three hours of lessons a day.”

  He offered his hand. “Fair enough.”

  When she took his hand, she added one point. “You know, Kieran, you could have just asked me out. I would have gone.”

  He didn’t turn her hand loose. “I did, Dusti, the last three times I came home. You were always too busy.”

  She thought about what he said. She barely remembered talking to him during the times he’d visited. Once her mother had been ill, and she and Abby were giving up every other night of sleep to sit with her. The next Christmas she’d seen him, even talked to him a minute at the post office, but her mother had just died. Then, maybe she’d turned him down last fall when all hands were needed to harvest the pecans. During those weeks she and Abby didn’t have time to put on makeup, much less go out.

  The realization that it had been two years since she’d had a real date or kissed a man shocked her. Wild Dusti Delaney had been living the life of a nun.

  When Abby came home from school they’d been so busy. They’d talked about going out, even sized up every eligible man in the county, but there had been no time. At this rate they’d become the two old sisters living in the retirement home wondering where their lives went.

  She stood. “Kieran, would you mind if we sealed this bargain with a kiss? I’m not much on handshakes.”

  He looked surprised, so she guessed she might as well go for total shock.

  Dusti crawled onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his.

  For a college graduate, he didn’t seem too bright. From the way he kissed, sleeping with the man would be a real snooze. She’d get more action kissing the Blarney Stone.

  Raising her head, she stared at him.

  He didn’t move. His arms were still at his sides, making her feel like she might as well have been a pigeon perched on his knee.

  She climbed off the man, wondering if he was shy or gay or both. Maybe he was broke. That might explain why he didn’t date.

  “I wasn’t ready,” he said calmly.

  “That’s all right.” She must have been real dumb to think he was making her a hot proposition. Obviously the man only wanted a date. Now, after she’d just scared him to death, he probably didn’t even want that. “I guess the deal is off?”

  He stood, towering over her. “The deal’s still on. I’ll teach you to play and we’ll have the perfect evening after you win money.” When she didn’t comment, he added, “And, Dusti, I’ll let you know when I’m ready for that kiss.”

  Chapter 9

  IN FLIGHT

  REAGAN TRUMAN BUCKLED INTO HER SEAT ON A SOUTHWEST flight heading out of dallas toward las vegas. Since the night she’d talked to Dusti Delaney at Buffalo’s, she’d known what she had to do. If the Delaneys could fight for their dream chasing a wild poker game, she could fight for hers.

  As the flight attendant blared safety information, Reagan smiled. Her uncle Jeremiah used to tell her that if a dream wasn’t worth fighting for, it wasn’t worth having. He always said something like, “Whether you make it or not, kid, how are you going to feel on your deathbed if you didn’t try? Seems to me, even if you don’t make it, you’ll die knowing you gave it your best shot.”

  She’d loved the old man from the moment he took her in and claimed her as kin. She’d gone from being a runaway foster kid to the niece of the last of the Truman family.

  Before he died, he’d given her everything she’d ever dreamed of: a home, roots a hundred years deep, and his last name. Only now, after she turned his farm into one of the most successful businesses around, she wanted one dream more. Noah McAllen. Maybe she’d always wanted him, even that first day they’d met in high school. He’d grown up in Harmony and knew everyone. She knew no one. But he’d walked up to her with his friendly smile and told her they were going to be friends. She’d done her best to push him away, but he kept coming back. She couldn’t help but love him.

  Only Noah McAllen loved the rodeo. At first it was the thrill, the excitement of the crowd, the need to break his father’s records, but now it was the money. With all the endorsements and personal appearances he might make a million this year. How could he turn that down?

  Noah loved her too. She knew he did. When he won big, she was the first call he made. When he was hurt, he’d always have her come. Every time he c
ame home he told her he loved her, and she swore she could see the truth of it in his eyes.

  He was wild and reckless and she was grounded and shy, but somehow they matched. When they were together, the whole world seemed in balance.

  As the plane rose into the clouds, Reagan counted the weeks since he’d been home. The small ranch his father had given him when he turned eighteen only had herds of tumbleweeds rolling across it now, and the house he’d told her would be their start was crumbling. Just like their plans to be together.

  Noah always said they were young. Twenty-three is too soon to marry. They had plenty of time. The rest of their lives.

  Only he hadn’t called in over a month. Something was wrong. As much as Reagan hated traveling and crowds, she had to go to Noah. Deep down she knew he was slipping away, out of her life.

  She might not have heard from him, but she knew where he’d be. This week every cowboy riding the circuit would be in Vegas at the rodeo. Only two nights were left. She’d find him tonight and watch him ride tomorrow before she went back to her quiet farm. Two days of crowds would be worth it if she could be with Noah.

  Closing her eyes, she flipped through memories. The night he’d first kissed her. The days she’d spent watching over him after a bull had stomped on his chest. The first time they’d made love and she’d made him do it again just to make sure it had really been so good. Dozens of long hello kisses and tearful good-bye hugs at airports. It seemed like her whole life in Harmony had been measured in the heartbeats of Noah.

  Dreams mixed with truth as the plane rocked her to sleep. He was waiting there, always in her dreams. Holding her. “I’ll be your family,” he’d whispered after her uncle died. “I’ll always be your family, Rea, and you’ll always be my anchor.”