Willow in Bloom Page 2

  “Yes.” For the rodeo. And only the second for what came later that night….

  “It was my next-to-last,” he said quietly, soberly.

  Willow sensed that she’d hit on a sore subject. “Did you retire?” she asked, using the term facetiously, since he was hardly retirement age.

  But all he said in answer was, “Something like that.”

  It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, and because it wasn’t getting her any nearer her goal, anyway, she didn’t pursue it. Instead she decided to try a different tack.

  “I suppose you must have met a lot of people along the way.”

  “Probably more than my fair share.”

  “A lot of women.”

  He smiled wryly. “Probably more than my fair share.”

  Willow acknowledged that with a raise of her chin, but began to give in to the inevitable thought she’d been trying to avoid—that she had been just one of many. That that night, so unlike anything she had ever done in her life, had been so commonplace to him that he didn’t even remember it.

  “So you got around pretty good, did you?” she heard herself say before she even knew she was going to. In a very accusatory tone.

  “I didn’t have a different woman every night of the week, if that’s what you’re asking, no. But what does that have to do with opening an account for feed?”

  Good question.

  Willow had to think fast to come up with an answer.

  “I was just wondering if you’d settled down with a wife or a girlfriend who would also be on the account.”

  Feeble. Oh, was that feeble.

  But it was the best she could do on the spot.

  And he didn’t really buy it. She could see the doubt in his expression.

  But he went along with it, anyway.

  “No, there’s just me. I’ll be the only one on the account. Shouldn’t you be writing something down?”

  Willow felt even more stupid—if that were possible—because he was right, she hadn’t so much as taken out a piece of paper or a pencil.

  She did that now, filling in his name at the top of the form she used.

  “You’ll have to give me the formal address. I know the Harris place, but I don’t know the numbers off the top of my head,” she said, trying hard to sound businesslike to counteract her total unprofessionalism up to that point.

  Tyler rattled off the route number and zip code, and as Willow wrote those down, too, she worked to come up with more questions or conversation that might spur his memory without seeming completely inappropriate.

  But she couldn’t think of anything, and instead just asked the usual things about his finances, references, and about how much feed and grain he thought he’d be needing per month.

  And then the form was finished and all that was left was for him to sign it to authorize her to run a credit check on him.

  When he’d done that, he stood. “Guess that takes care of it then.”

  A sudden feeling of panic rushed through Willow at the thought that he was on the verge of leaving and she hadn’t made any headway whatsoever in getting him to remember her.

  “So did you end up taking home all the prize money that weekend in Tulsa?” she asked in a last-ditch effort, hoping any mention of Tulsa or that weekend might spur something in him.

  But it just seemed to dampen his mood again. “No, only Friday’s purse. The competition you must have seen,” he said, once more sounding as if he didn’t want to talk about it.

  And maybe that was the problem, Willow thought. Maybe losing the following two days had caused him to block out the entire weekend. Her included.

  Not that that made it any more heartening as she finally gave in and admitted she was failing miserably at making him remember her.

  “You’ll let me know once you get the credit report and okay the account, so I can put in an order?” he asked as he made his way to the office door with Willow following him this time.

  “I’ll be in touch,” she assured him, unable to keep her own dismay out of her voice.

  Apparently he heard it, because he tossed her a small frown. But he didn’t question it. He just said, “I’ll be lookin’ forward to hearing from you. And to doing business with you.”

  Willow could only manage a nod, at which point he headed down the main aisle and left the store.

  And as she stood in her office doorway again and watched him go, she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

  The one man she’d done something totally outrageous and uncharacteristic with, the one time in her life she’d ever done anything totally outrageous and uncharacteristic at all, had just strolled in, apparently without a single memory of ever even having met her.

  And she didn’t know what to do about it.

  It was so humiliating.

  So humiliating that she wished that night they’d spent together could be left a secret she could carry with her to her grave, so no one would ever be the wiser. So her humiliation would never be known.

  She wished she could steer clear of Tyler Chadwick for the rest of her life, in spite of those eyes and that face and that body.

  And as she retreated back into her office and closed the door once again, she considered doing just that—steering clear of Tyler Chadwick for the rest of her life.

  But she wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do. Even if he was the kind of creep who spent the night with a woman and then forgot all about it. All about her.

  Because even if he was that kind of creep, even if he didn’t remember having met her, it didn’t change the fact that he had. That he’d done much, much more than just meet her.

  It didn’t change the fact that she was now pregnant with his baby.

  Chapter Two

  “I’m sitting on my front porch with my feet up on the railing, drinking a steaming cup of coffee and watchin’ the sun rise. How’s that compare to a smelly motel room, a stale Danish and a cup of weak, lukewarm swill that’s supposed to pass for a cup a’ joe?”

  “Mornin’, big brother,” the voice on the other end of the phone said when Tyler had finished his lengthy greeting. “Tryin’ to make me jealous, are you?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, it’s workin’. This room smells like mildew, my complimentary continental breakfast is a muffin you could play hardball with, and I think the coffee was made yesterday.”

  “And I wish I was there,” Tyler added, slightly under his breath.

  Brick didn’t comment on that, and Tyler knew his younger brother didn’t know what to say to it.

  But Brick didn’t let much silence lapse before he used Tyler’s utterance as a segue. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Okay. The headaches are still comin’ but they’re fewer and farther between, and the pills help when they do hit.”

  “That’s something. What about the other? Are things clearin’ up on that front?”

  “No. That’s the same.”

  “And you haven’t found your mystery woman to help?”

  His mystery woman. The woman he’d met at a blues club and spent that last night with. Whoever she was…

  “If I have found my mystery woman it hasn’t helped,” Tyler said with a laugh to lighten the tone. “No, seriously, I’ve only met one woman—someone named Willow Colton. She runs the feed and grain store here and she isn’t my mystery woman.”

  “Because she didn’t spark anything? You know what the doctors said about your theory that—”

  “Not only because she didn’t spark anything. She recognized me from Tulsa in June because she was at the rodeo Friday afternoon and saw me ride.”

  “So she’s not the one.”

  “And she didn’t spark anything, so, no, she’s not the one,” Tyler said definitively.

  But talking about Willow Colton brought her to Tyler’s mind. Vividly to mind. Something that had been happening every time he turned around since meeting her the day before.

  She might not be his m
ystery woman, but she’d certainly struck a note with him. Of course, that shouldn’t have come as any surprise. After all, she was beautiful, so she would have struck a note with anyone. Beautiful with shiny licorice-black hair and skin as smooth as satin. High, broad cheekbones; a sweet little nose. Full, luscious lips the color of Colorado’s red rocks. And those eyes—luminous, ethereal, pale, pale dove-gray—those eyes could mesmerize a man….

  “You’re probably right.” Brick’s voice broke into Tyler’s wandering thoughts. “Not only isn’t Miss Feed and Grain your mystery woman if she was at the rodeo, but if she’d been with you that night she’d have said it.”

  “That’s what I’m figuring, too. Besides, I don’t care what the doctors or anyone else say, I think I’ll know her when I see her. I just feel it in my gut.”

  Brick didn’t comment on that, either. He didn’t have to. They’d had this conversation a dozen times in the last two months, and Tyler knew his brother thought he had just gone a little crazy in response to an unwanted life change. He also knew that in many ways Brick was merely humoring him, figuring he’d come to his senses eventually.

  But Brick did look on the bright side. “Well, one way or another, that pull you felt to Black Arrow landed you a nice piece of property. If nothin’ else, maybe fate was planting that seed to get you where you were meant to go.”

  “So when are you comin’ to stay awhile?”

  “You miss me. Admit it, you really miss me,” Brick goaded.

  “Yeah, I miss all that snoring and snortin’ you do in your sleep every night,” Tyler countered facetiously, when in truth he did miss his brother. Not only had they shared a bedroom their entire growing up years, but since they’d left home to follow the rodeo circuit they’d rarely been apart.

  But Tyler knew there was no way he’d ever live it down if he admitted that he actually did miss Brick.

  “I’ll be there the weekend after next,” his brother said in answer to his question. “And don’t go thinkin’ I’ll be able to recognize the mystery woman if we come across her, either, because I keep tellin’ you that I didn’t so much as cast her a glance before I left you with her in that bar. I was too tired to think straight that night.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before.”

  “I just wish to hell I’d made you come back to the room with me instead of leaving you there. Then maybe you wouldn’t have still been thinkin’ about her the next day and you wouldn’t have been distracted and—”

  “We all get dealt our own hand, little brother, and that was mine,” Tyler said in answer to the suddenly serious tone Brick had taken.

  “Yeah, well, still and all—”

  “Still and all nothin’. Things happen the way they’re supposed to happen.” Whether it’s easy to understand or cope with or not.

  Tyler heard the sound of a knock on his brother’s motel room door just before Brick said, “That’s the guys.”

  “Headin’ out for a real breakfast,” Tyler added, knowing the routine well himself. And suffering a terrible pang not to be a part of it anymore.

  But he didn’t let it sound in his voice. He made sure to seem upbeat. “You better get goin’ or they’ll leave you behind. I just wanted to wish you luck on your ride tonight. Let me know how you do.”

  Brick wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings. His voice echoed with sadness. “You know I will. Talk to you later.”

  “Talk to you later,” Tyler answered. Then he pushed the button to disconnect the call, and set his cordless phone on the planked floor of his front porch.

  “Damn,” he muttered to himself, weathering the fresh surge of sorrow that flooded through him.

  But things were the way they were, he reminded himself. They couldn’t be changed, and pining for what used to be, for what might have been if only, didn’t help anything. He needed to look to the positives, not the negatives.

  Like the fact that he was now the owner of this ranch and had a home of his own.

  Like the fact that even if it was sooner than he’d planned, this was still the life he and Brick had always talked about having when they were ready to throw in the towel on bronc busting.

  Like the fact that Black Arrow was a nice, quiet town full of friendly people.

  People like Willow Colton.

  Willow Colton whose legs went on for miles, whose tight body couldn’t have been better proportioned, and whose breasts were just the right size to fit into a man’s hands….

  Tyler knew what his brother would say about Willow Colton if he saw her. Brick would say, “Who needs a mystery woman when there’s a flesh and blood woman like Willow Colton?”

  But Brick didn’t understand what was going on inside Tyler over his mystery woman.

  Hell, Tyler didn’t understand it himself.

  He just knew there was something pushing him to find her. And maybe to find that part of himself that he’d lost in the process.

  And he didn’t think he could rest until he did.

  Even if he was having trouble getting that image of Miss Feed and Grain out of his head.

  Even if he was looking forward to seeing her again more than he wanted to.

  No, his mystery woman was like lost pages in a book he just had to finish, and until he figured out who she was, he was damn sure not starting up anything with anyone else.

  Not even a woman with pale dove-gray eyes that seemed to haunt him.

  Because no matter how much that might be the case, those pale-gray eyes didn’t haunt him as much as that gap his mystery woman had left.

  And he was all about filling that gap.

  Willow hadn’t slept much the night before, which didn’t help her fatigue. But even feeling more tired than usual, she was at no risk of falling asleep at her desk the way she had on Tuesday. The same thoughts that had kept her awake until the wee hours of the morning kept her adrenaline level high through Wednesday.

  Tyler Chadwick was on her mind. Tyler Chadwick and the predicament she was in.

  Not that Tyler and her predicament had been far from her thoughts at any point in the two months before this. But since he’d walked into her life again nearly twenty-four hours ago, she had been completely incapable of thinking about anything else.

  She also hadn’t been able to stop asking herself the same two questions—how could he have forgotten her, and how could he have forgotten their night together?

  It was just so awful to think that he had.

  She wasn’t proud of what she’d done in Tulsa. In fact, she’d been ashamed of herself. Spending the night with someone she’d just met in a club? That was definitely a first. And a last.

  But it was as if something had snapped in her in June.

  It hadn’t been easy growing up with four older brothers. Four very protective older brothers. But since Willow had been out on her own, running the Feed and Grain, one or another of her brothers was at her side every time she turned around. Watching over her to the point where she felt as if she were being stalked by her own family.

  She’d tried talking to them, reasoning with them, letting them know she wasn’t doing anything even remotely dangerous and that they did not need to take turns becoming her ever-present guardians.

  But no sooner had she given that lecture than there they were again. Just checking in with her, they said.

  Until, finally, Willow had thought she might explode.

  She’d known if she didn’t get away from them for a while she was going to lose her temper and say things that would hurt their feelings. And she didn’t want that.

  So Willow had called her friend Becky Lindstrom in Tulsa and taken her up on her repeated request for Willow to visit.

  Just for a week. A week of rest and relaxation, with no brothers looking over her shoulder every minute. That’s all it was supposed to be. That’s all it was.

  Until Friday.

  Friday night when she knew her week was at an end and she had to go back to Black Arrow, back to four brothers w
ho couldn’t leave her alone.

  Just the thought of that had left her feeling the need to go a little wild. To cut loose one last time before she went back. To get out and do something she wouldn’t do at home. To be someone besides a person with four brothers who seemed to need to keep her in a velvet cage.

  So, on their way home from an afternoon at the rodeo that was passing through Tulsa at the time, Willow had confided her feelings to Becky.

  Becky had embraced the idea with a vengeance. A night on the town. Just the two of them. Kicking up their heels.

  Becky had reveled in the free hand to make Willow over. To doll her up in a way Willow never got dolled up. To transform her into a new woman.

  No jeans.

  No T-shirts or flannels.

  No practical shoes.

  No braided hair.

  Becky had loaned Willow a slinky, strapless red dress that fit every inch of the few inches it covered like a second skin.

  Spike-heeled shoes had gone with it, but Becky hadn’t stopped at merely outfitting Willow. She’d also played beauty shop with Willow’s hair, with makeup Willow never wore, with perfume and lipstick that were the finishing touches that turned everyday Willow Colton into exotic Wyla and made her feel truly like a different person.

  Out on the town.

  Nightclubbing.

  And that’s where Willow had met Tyler Chadwick. At a blues club.

  She and Becky had recognized him from the rodeo earlier in the evening. He was one of the bronco riders. The drop-dead gorgeous bronco rider with the derriere to die for. The one who had won.

  By that time, Becky had had enough champagne to lower all her inhibitions, and she’d suggested they invite him to join them.

  Willow, who had been feeling no pain herself, hadn’t put up too much of a fight.

  “Just don’t let him know we know who he is,” Becky had whispered to Willow before leaving their table. “He’ll get a swelled head if he thinks we think he’s somebody.”

  And that’s how it had happened.

  Tyler Chadwick had taken them up on the offer and joined them.