didn’t tell you how we broke up?” he asked.
“I didn’t know about her and Zach until after they’d eloped.” Her dark eyes were sad and angry at the same time.
He casually lifted one shoulder. “How did your father take it?”
“Better than I expected.”
“So I came in a distant second with father and daughter.”
Her gaze shot to his. “She didn’t plan it, Mitch. It just happened. She fell head over heels in love and—”
“And stepped on anyone who stood in her way,” he finished. He didn’t care about Jen anymore. Why was he rehashing this? To push Taylor away? There was no need to do that. She was a member of Destiny’s founding family and her father had made it clear that he hated Mitch’s guts. Or at least the fact that Jen liked him. Taylor probably shared her father’s conviction and had a low opinion of him.
“Jen would never have deliberately deceived you.” A shadow clouded her face. “I think it all happened fast and she couldn’t bring herself to hurt you. I know my sister. I know how badly she felt.”
“Then it’s real hard for me to believe you didn’t know about them.”
And didn’t tell me, he silently added.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Is your last name Stevens?”
“No one set out to make a fool of you, Mitch.”
Whether he believed her or not, the fact remained that it happened ten years ago. He hadn’t thought about Jen in a long time. What was it about coming back to Destiny that churned everything up again?
“You’re right. I apologize.” He rubbed a hand across his neck.
“That first year on the rodeo circuit must have been hard on you,” she said. “Seeing Jen and Zach all the time.”
The last thing he wanted was her pity. “Only because I came in second.” She opened her mouth to say something and he jumped in. “The competition was good for publicity. They milked it for all it was worth.”
“Until Zach was killed.” Her gaze searched his face. “Were you there?”
He shook his head. “I was sitting that one out. A pulled muscle.” But he’d heard. He’d tried to contact Jen. But he’d missed her or she hadn’t wanted to talk to him. Either way, it was a long time ago.
“She got her life together and moved forward.” Taylor released a huge sigh. “But they had so little time together. It’s so unfair.”
Unfair? No kidding. But he could give lessons in unfair. The woman he’d believed was his had tossed him aside for his rival. Ten years ago, Jen had done what she’d had to. That was that. He’d gotten over her. Only one other time had he taken a chance. Another big mistake. These days he made it a point not to let down his guard for any woman and there was no reason to relax it now.
He glanced around the kitchen, and noted the copper cow trivet just to Taylor’s left on the counter. The black-and-white bovine teakettle resting on the cook-top. Feminine touches were everywhere. Homey touches. Emptiness kicked up inside him like rheumatism on a damp, cold day.
“I learned something else you might want to think about,” he said more sharply than he intended.
“What’s that?”
“Life isn’t fair. And folks don’t much care about fair. They make their minds up and nothing short of an act of God will change it. They pretty much assume the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. And my family tree didn’t have any fruit—except for me. Or roots, either, for that matter. Your dad reminded me of that on a pretty regular basis.”
“I know. But I can tell you’re not bitter,” she said, then bit her lip to stifle a smile.
“Of course not.”
The corners of his mouth turned up and the movement felt rusty. He’d forgotten how she could do that, even at fourteen. She was even better now. In just a few words she’d pointed out what an idiot he was making of himself and made him smile at the same time.
“You’re right about Dad,” she said. “But it probably wouldn’t do any good to say I’m sorry.”
“Nope. It was a long time ago.” He folded his arms over his chest. “It’s water under the bridge.”
“Is it?” she asked. “With Jen, too?” She looked like his answer meant a lot to her.
“Yeah. I’m not the same green kid. And you said Jen’s moved forward. Now that she’s married, probably with a couple kids—”
Taylor shook her head. “There hasn’t been anyone else—since Zach.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“As pretty as she is?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she continued. “She was busy with college and law school, then her career. But I think it’s more than that. She’s a one-man woman.” There was an edge to her voice, as if she was trying to convince him of the fact.
“Are you a one-man woman, too?”
Her cheeks flooded with color and her gaze lowered to his shirt collar. “We’re not talking about me.”
“But we could.”
She shook her head. “No. I’d rather talk about you.”
He nodded. He had nothing to lose by laying his cards on the table. “Okay. After Jen I moved on.”
“I know.” Her gaze didn’t quite settle on his. “I still remember the stuff in the media. How did it feel to be on the Most Eligible Cowboy in Texas list? A buckle bunny in every port?”
“I think that’s the navy. And don’t believe everything you read,” he warned her.
The tension in her body said she wanted to climb back in the saddle and ride that one until she’d gentled it. But he wasn’t going there. He was a bachelor, but definitely not eligible. He’d once heard nothing was as bad as your first love gone south. The hurt of it was something you never forgot. Jen was smart, beautiful, socially accepted, the kind of woman a guy like him wasn’t supposed to have. And he’d found out he couldn’t have her.
“I’m glad Jen’s okay. I wish her all the best in her life,” he said. “I don’t hold a grudge, Taylor.”
“I’m glad,” she said fervently. “I wish my dad could see you now. What a success you are.”
Would he be such a success if Zach had lived? He liked to think the rivalry made them both better and that he would have beaten Zach Adams. The only thing he’d ever wanted was to be number one, fair and square. Now he would never know.
“I heard your dad passed away.”
She nodded. “Heart attack. A little over a year ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “He wasn’t a hard man. In fact just the opposite.”
“If you say so.”
“He just had trouble showing his feelings. Even with Jen and I. It was his way of building character. But he never missed a school or sporting event. I don’t think he disliked rodeo as much as he worried about me participating.”
“You knew him better than I did.”
“You’re right. And he would be glad you’re so successful.”
“Yeah. And pigs can fly,” he scoffed.
“It’s true. In fact, you remind me a lot of him.”
“Them’s fightin’ words,” he said.
She