A Second-Chance Proposal

CHAPTER TWO

CATHLEEN SAT IN THE DARK of her office for several minutes. She had no idea what Dylan would do. Would he walk the eight kilometers back to Canmore? Start banging on her door, demanding a room? Or actually settle down in the barn, as she’d invited him to?

When she heard the sound of water rushing through pipes to the outside tap, she retrieved her towel from the deck, then cautiously made her way through the darkened hallway to the dining room. Through a clump of overgrown lilac bushes, the barn light glowed. Unless Cascade, the horse Dylan had given her as a wedding present, had developed an opposable thumb, he’d decided to take her up on her incredibly generous offer.

In her situation, most women would’ve kicked the bum out, she was certain. Which just showed what a tolerant, kindhearted soul she was.

Upstairs she showered and changed into a nightgown. After brushing her teeth, she was still too wound up for sleep. She needed to talk, which meant calling one of her sisters. Maureen, the eldest, had to get up early to work at her law firm in Calgary. But Kelly was on nights this week. Cathleen went back to the office and dialed the number for the local RCMP detachment.

She caught her youngest sister at her desk. “You won’t believe what just happened. Dylan’s back. He came by about an hour ago.”

“To the B and B?” Kelly sounded indignant. Then she turned suspicious. “He didn’t have the nerve to ask for a room, did he?” After a second of silence she added, “You didn’t let him have one, did you?”

“Not really. I did tell him he could sleep in the stall next to Cascade, though.”

Kelly laughed. “No way.”

“Why not?” From the gleam in his eyes as he’d watched her get out of that hot tub, he’d been in the mood for a roll in the hay. So let him have it.

“Only you would make an offer like that. Not that it isn’t better than what he deserves. What’s the going rate for one of those stalls?”

“For Dylan? It’ll be very steep, trust me.” She propped her bare feet on top of the gray metal filing cabinet next to her desk and slid down in her chair to get comfortable.

Even more than her bedroom, this study was her place. With a desk and bookshelves at one corner, and a sofa facing a fireplace in the center of the room, it made for a cozy retreat when the B and B teemed with guests.

“Truthfully, just knowing he’s out there makes me nervous,” Kelly said.

“I don’t know why.”

“That man broke your heart.”

Cathleen let her feet drop to the floor. “He did not!”

“Right.” Kelly sighed. “You agreed to marry him, but never cared that much.”

“I cared.” It was the most she was prepared to admit. “But Dylan showed his true colors the day he walked out on me. I’m just lucky I found out in time.”

Unlike her mother, who’d married their father and had three kids with him before she’d finally faced the truth.

“There are other reasons to be cautious….”

“Kelly, you know Dylan didn’t kill that girl.”

“Not on purpose—”

“Or any other way.”

“Cathleen, the demonstration was getting out of hand. Tempers were hot. There was probably some pushing and shoving between the oilmen and the environmentalists. The gun could have gone off accidentally….”

“No.” Regardless of their personal differences—which were mammoth—Cathleen knew Dylan was innocent on this score.

“You sound very confident.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Anyone could’ve shot Jilly. You told me so yourself.”

“That’s true, but a number of factors weigh in against Dylan. Everyone knows he hates his stepfather so much he’d have done almost anything to stop him from drilling those wells. And running out of town the way he did sure doesn’t make him appear innocent.”

“Running away was stupid.” And how! “But it isn’t a crime.” Not against the law, anyway.

“No. But it made him look guilty. And it doesn’t help that he had an argument with his mother the night before he left. Did you know Rose sported a black eye the next day? I confess I used to like Dylan. But what kind of man hits his own mother?”

Cathleen hadn’t heard this story before. Probably everyone had thought they were protecting her. Which was ridiculous, because there was no way it was true. “Dylan would never hurt his mother.”

Her sister’s sigh made it clear she was losing patience. “Maybe, maybe not. The point is—”

“Kel, he couldn’t even find a room in town. It’s almost like there’s a conspiracy out there.”

Kelly took a moment to answer. “I’d think you’d be glad. This isn’t just about Jilly. People around here don’t like what he did to you, either.”

Oh, Lord. This was crazy. Yes, Dylan had been a jerk. But she didn’t want him ostracized for life. If people around town needed her to forgive him—which she wasn’t ever going to do, but she could pretend—before they could do the same, then so be it.

“I guess I’ll have to let him stay here, then.”

“Cathleen, that’s crazy, even for you. We’ve lived in Canmore all our lives, and God knows, the people here love you, always have. But if you let Dylan stay at your B and B, they’ll assume you’re trying to protect him. And Jilly Beckett was just sixteen years old….”

“It’s nobody’s business who stays at my place. And I’m the first to acknowledge that Jilly’s death was a tragedy, but Dylan wasn’t responsible.”

“Let’s say you’re right about that. What about the fact that you two were once in love? Won’t it be painful to have him around?”

“Don’t worry, Kelly. I’m over him. Why won’t anyone believe me when I tell them that?” Since when had her love life become a matter of town policy, anyway? It was bad enough that her sisters couldn’t seem to butt out of her business.

After the conversation ended, Cathleen went to the cabinet by the patio doors and poured herself a brandy. She was confused about a lot of things right now, but there were two points on which she had no doubt.

Dylan hadn’t killed Jilly. She would back him on this against all of them—the townspeople, the cops, her sisters…hell, even his own mother.

Their personal relationship, however, was a different matter. If he thought he could flirt and tease his way back into her heart, he’d soon discover he was wrong. His apology tonight hadn’t cut it by half. That man had walked out on her.

And she was going to make him pay.

DYLAN AWOKE COLD, STIFF and bad tempered. Through narrowed eyes he spied his roommate, a sturdy little quarter horse with a spotted coat. At the same moment, she turned her head to the side and focused one dark-lashed brown eye at him.

“Sleep well?” he asked, propping his back against the wooden wall. Pain stabbed through his left shoulder, and he brought up his right hand protectively. In her stall, Cascade snorted.

“Me, neither.” This wasn’t his first time crashing out on a stable floor, but he was definitely getting too old for this—

Plop, plop. Cascade didn’t even blink as she performed her morning purge.

Dylan wrinkled his nose. He’d worked with the smell of horses all his life. But usually he’d had his first coffee of the day before he did so.