couldn’t, could he?” Colton pointed out. “He wanted an impartial opinion!” Colton’s furious gaze skated across the wrinkled sheets and gauze bandages to land on Denver’s scarred face. “I know that you and I have never seen eye to eye, but I thought you’d agree with me on this one.” His jaw worked for a minute. “They’re gone, Denver. And you—look at you.” Colton’s eyes clouded with pity. “Look at what they did, for Christ’s sake.”
“Get out!” Denver didn’t want to think about the damage to himself. He’d always been proud, and the look on Colton’s face twisted his guts. He couldn’t think about the pity in Tessa’s eyes should she ever see him again.
Colton’s gray eyes flashed furiously. “Any way you cut it, Denver, Curtis Kramer is to blame.” He strode out of the room then, leaving Denver alone with his scars and his memories.
* * *
Now, shaking his head to clear it of the unpleasant past, Denver rammed the car into gear and backed out of the law firm’s parking lot. The car rolled easily onto the street and Denver turned north, toward the airport. Not once since the fire had he returned to the ranch. He’d never seen Tessa again.
At first pride had kept him from her, and eventually Colton had convinced him that she had, intentionally or not, conspired against him. He’d told himself he was doing her one big favor by leaving, and he’d been right. He had been badly scarred, physically and emotionally. Plastic surgery had fixed the exterior, he thought cynically as he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the same blue eyes he’d been born with. One lid was a mere fraction lower than the other, but his skin was smooth, the result of more skin grafts than he wanted to count. But no surgeon or psychiatrist had been able to remove the bitterness he felt whenever he thought about that day.
“So don’t think about it,” he muttered aloud, scowling at himself. It was many miles north to the ranch, and the airport was only across town. He could drive to the airport and return to Los Angeles as he’d planned, or he could phone his partner and take time off—the vacation he hadn’t allowed himself in years. Jim would understand, and business was unseasonably slow. But if he stayed in Montana, he’d have to face Tessa again.
His lips curved into a crooked, almost wicked smile. Maybe it was time. He saw the flashing neon sign of a local tavern and pulled into the pothole-pocked parking lot. One beer, he decided, then he’d make up his mind.
* * *
With one quick stroke of her jackknife, Tessa cut the twine. The bale split open easily. Snapping the knife closed, she shoved it into her pocket, then forked loose hay into the manger. Dust swirled in the air, and the interior of the old barn smelled musty and dry.
Though it was evening, no breeze whispered through the open doors and only faint rays from a cloud-covered sun filtered past the grime and cobwebs of the few circular windows cut high in the hayloft.
The air was still, heavy with the threat of rain. She hoped the summer shower would break quickly and give relief to the parched ranch land. The ground was cracked and hard. And it was only the middle of August.
She was already feeding the horses and cattle hay she’d cut barely a month before.
Frowning, she heard the familiar sound of thudding hooves. Tails up and unfurling like silky flags, several of the younger horses raced into the barn. Behind the colts, the brood mares plodded at a slower pace.
“Hungry?” Tessa asked as several dark heads poked through the far side of the manger. A gray colt bared his teeth and nipped at a rival as the horses shoved for position. “Hey, slow down, there’s enough for everybody.” She chuckled as she forked more hay, shaking it along the long trough that served all the McLean horses.
Once the McLean horses were fed, she tossed hay into a manger on the other side of the barn and grinned widely as three more horses plunged their heads into the manger. Their warm breath stirred the hay as they nuzzled deep, searching for oats. “In a minute,” Tessa said, admiring the stallion and two mares. These were her horses, and her heart swelled with pride at the sight of them. She owned several—six in all—but these three were her pride and joy, the mainstay of