After the disastrous girls' night out—for her, that is—she started giving more consideration to Ryan. If she thought about it, Ryan was not out of the question. He was handsome, funny, charming, and wanted more out of life than to just be a member of the bunkhouse. When Rip or Lloyd was gone, Ryan was in charge—that's how much faith Rip and John Dutton had in him. Those were attractive qualities.
The experience with her ex-husband had made her wary of men and Ryan seemed to understand. He was gently persistent and wouldn't push which she appreciated but she was only twenty-three and after her marriage with a domestic abuser she just was not ready to become involved with anyone.
Ryan had begun to take her riding whenever he had some spare time. She was not a good rider, but she could stay on a horse. Under Ryan's tutelage she was getting better. Even as a bad rider she had always ridden whenever she got the chance. Now she sat better in the saddle and had learned to go with the rhythm of a horse at a trot. Ryan was teaching her to gallop and not be afraid, previously a canter was all she felt comfortable with.
She didn't understand why she didn't have stronger feelings for Ryan. He certainly was worthy of them. She could by happy with him if she let herself, but she didn't love him, that was it plain and simple.
She thought about these things as she mucked the stalls and fed the horses. Could she pretend to care for him, and learn to love him? That sounded horrible, learning to love someone. Her husband may have been a bastard, but she had been so full of love for him that at times she felt that her heart was going to burst. That is how a relationship should start, she thought, not waiting and hoping that she could reciprocate something she did not feel.
And then she met...him.
She'd finished cleaning the stalls and was adding water and mash and putting hay in the feeders. That was when she heard the clomping of hoofbeats.
The puppy was immediately on alert. Her hackles rose and she began first to growl, then started barking.
"What's wrong girl?" Anicka asked her, then slipped off her belt to make a makeshift leash. She no longer kept her on a leash in the barn, the horses knew her and made friends with her. Even Rip no longer ordered her to put her dog on a leash for fear of what she'd do to the horses.
Anicka stepped into the aisle and saw someone tying up his horse. She couldn't see his face, but he had a tall, stocky build that some might jokingly call a "dad body".
Candy chose that moment to bark, upset that a stranger was in her barn and might hurt her horses. "Shh, quiet," Anicka told her, not wanting him to see her but it was too late.
He looked at her and smiled, his face boyish and handsome, but it was clear he was not young. "You work here?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm the new stall cleaner, well not so new now," she corrected.
He made a face. "Why would you want to do that, a pretty girl like you? Couldn't you find something better?"
"Well, pretty girls still need to earn money. And besides, I'm good at this and I don't mind it. I don't have a boss breathing down my neck all day, all Rip cares about is that the stalls get cleaned, and the horses are fed and watered. It's peaceful work, I guess someone could hate it and be really miserable, but I don't. Would I rather be a hand and spend the day on horseback? Sure, but I don't mind what I'm doing."
He undid the cinches and removed the saddle from his horse. "I guess that's one way of looking at it, you certainly don't seem to mind. I hated it when I was a kid, I wish someone explained it to me like you did. It would have made it a whole lot easier."
She wasn't really listening to him, she was too busy taking in his amber-brown eyes and his ashy brown hair. He wasn't the handsomest man she'd ever seen but he was so appealing that if he asked her to come into one of the stalls and take her clothes off so he could fuck her, she'd find it hard to say 'no'.
He'd taken off his gloves and she could see the gold wedding band on his left hand. She sighed, all the good ones were either gay or married.
He seemed sweet and sincere and if he asked her she'd probably tell him about her marriage and her search for her brother Benito. She did not dare ask, but she wondered what his wife was like. Was she dark or blond? Was she Native American? Did he have any kids? But what was the point?
"I'm Kayce Dutton," he said, "And you?"
"Amy, Amy Perez. I've never seen you around here before."
"Well, I don't come around much, my wife doesn't really care much for my father."
"What about your mother?" she asked.
"My mom died when I was a kid," he said. He looked down, clearly uncomfortable.
Oh, she thought, maybe you shouldn't have told me that. "I'm sorry," she said, "I lost my dad a year ago to a heart attack. It doesn't get any easier, I really loved him."
"No, it doesn't. I've got to go, I guess I'll see you around, Amy Perez. By the way," he said, "I like your dog."
God, I hope he comes around, she thought. If it was possible to fall in love at first sight she had. What had she fallen in love with, his soft voice? His handsome face? Or the friendly way he'd treated her. Anyway, she was in trouble and knew now that Ryan didn't stand a chance.
She looked for him for the next few days, but he didn't make an appearance. It's just as well, she thought, He's a married man who looks like a very married man. For all you know he has a kid and getting in the middle of that would be nothing but trouble. My marriage may have failed, but that doesn't mean I don't want to break up someone else's. He's probably not even considering you. Ryan likes you, give him a chance.
Saturday night came around and Ryan asked her if she'd like to go with him to Bozeman and go dancing. They could go back to the same bar or pick a different place if she'd like.
"What do you say, sweetheart?" he asked.
Sweetheart. He'd never called her that before. Part of her wanted to turn him down but what was she going to do, sit around and wait for Kayce to notice her and leave his wife?
"Well," he said, "Why don't we find a nice restaurant and grab dinner? You've got these fools spoiled, let them fix their own dinner for a change."
It seemed like forever since someone wanted to do something nice for her. "Okay," she said, "let me grab a quick shower and put on something nice. I better shower now while no one seems to be claiming it."
If you didn't shower quickly in the bunkhouse someone would be sure to tell you to hurry your ass up and not waste the hot water. It took her half the time to shower now than it took at home. The tricky part was drying her hair. She had a band of blond roots now, but she wasn't willing, yet, to let anyone know her hair wasn't black.
She got her hair mostly dry then wrapped a scarf around it. She put on a blue shirt that was covered with gold embroidery and her best blue jeans and boots.
She pulled on her favorite black leather jacket then told Ryan, "I'm ready."
They got into one of the Yellowstone trucks. Ryan handed her his revolver then asked her to put it into the glove compartment.
She complied, but asked, "Why? Why are you carrying a gun?"
"Sweetheart," he told her, "I'm a livestock agent, and it's a twenty-four hour a day job. I always have my badge, my gun, and my Kevlar vest. It's not that I'm expecting anything to happen, but if it does then I'm always prepared."
"Hmm," she didn't exactly know what to say to that, but she was impressed by the fact he took it seriously.
He turned on the radio and neither talked much as they drove into Bozeman, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. She liked the way she felt like she could relax around him. Best of all he wasn't insisting she move closer to him on the seat. He seemed to sense that he needed to take his time.
"Wanna go to the same bar?" he asked, and she replied, "Sure, let's let them know we're not afraid."
Before that, though, was dinner. He chose a steak house that was nice but not fancy. "There'll be tourists here," he sighed, "but some of the locals come here too. You can't get away from it nowadays. If you're not willing to deal with out of towners you to move somewhere out in the middle of nowhere or leave Montana altogether."
"Is that an option?" she asked, "Leaving?"
"I don't want to," he said, "I was born here, it's home. Now, enough of depressing conversations, let's go get dinner."
They ordered steak, and for him a beer while she ordered a whiskey. All through dinner he kept her laughing while he told her stories about the hands and their life on the ranch. Though some of them had obviously not been so funny to the people they happened to, it was just the absurdity of the situation that made it funny.
When they finished dinner he paid the check and said, "We can walk to the bar from here, no one will bother a Yellowstone truck." He took her hand, and she let him do it, though a part of her would like to have prevented it.
Another part didn't seem to mind.
The bar was busy and lively and there were already people on the dance floor. They left their coats at a table and joined the company of people who were enjoying the band. When they played a slow number she let hm hold her close and laid her head against his chest.
They returned to their table and ordered some drinks, beer for him, whiskey for her.
"Don't you ever drink beer?" he asked.
"Never," she replied, "Once time when I was about five he handed me the bottle and I tasted it and 'eww' hated it. Then he gave it to my sister Chela and she started chugging away on it, so he took it away. That's how I've felt about beer ever since."
It was last call before they realized how late it had gotten. There was a strange look on Ryan's face and she began to wonder, so to suspect, that something was going on.
"We could drive back, but it's getting late. There's a nice little hotel not far from here. Amy, would you spend the night with me, please?"
The look on his face was sincere. She could say no but what was the point? She thought about Kayce Dutton then remembered his wedding band. What did she want to do, pine for someone who would never want her, or be with someone alive and real who did.
"It's been a while, Ryan..." she started to say, but he cut her off.
"We'll take it slow, we have all night," he told her, "I want you Amy, I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone."
"What am I going to do about my hair?" she thought as they checked in, "What if he pulls my scarf off and sees that I dyed my hair black? I've told him about my ex, but he still doesn't know my real name. How will he react when I tell him I'm not who I say I am, or that I came here to find out about my brother?"
"Ready?" he asked as he paid the clerk.
"Sure," she said, but sure she wasn't. She was going to have to tell him her secrets, all of them, and she was afraid of what was going to happen when she did.