When the Rancher Came to Town by Emma Cane Page B

happiness and desire and endless possibilities.
    From childhood, they’d been attached, knowing what each other had been thinking, sharing the same emotions, the same bond. Tony had never been one to hide his feelings or play it cool. But all that was gone—­had been gone through the nine years since their divorce. Even the sad ache of regret and bewilderment she used to feel had faded into the past. Now he was just her son’s father, and since he was great at that, he had her gratitude. He had Ethan through the school week, when he could be more of a full-­time parent, and she had Ethan most vacations and every weekend, when Tony always had to work. She thought it gave Ethan full-­time parents for the whole week.
    By the lowering of Tony’s brows, Kate could tell that her appearance was unexpected; it wasn’t the weekend. She’d totally forgotten that she’d told Tony last week that she was just going to stay in Vail and prepare for an important court date over the holiday.
    She gave a halfhearted smile as she approached the end of the bar. “Hi, Tony.”
    He nodded. “Kate.”
    His deep voice had once made her shiver all over; now all she heard was the wariness, and it made her even sadder on this sad day.
    He put down the glass he was polishing and approached her, lowering his voice as he said, “What’re you doing here?”
    â€œCan’t a girl want a drink?”
    His frown intensified. He poured her a glass of the house red and slid it in front of her. “If you changed your mind and decided to come for Thanksgiving, shouldn’t you have rushed right to your parents’ to bake pies or something?”
    She grimaced. He knew she didn’t bake—­hell, she didn’t like to cook much either, which was a sin in her family. Her parents owned Carmina’s Cucina, the Italian restaurant on Main Street. She’d grown up in the business. Having served at the restaurant through her teenage years, she’d always sworn she would never be a waitress again. Why Tony had wanted the tavern, she could never understand.
    She took a sip of her wine. “Tastes good.”
    He put both hands on the polished wood of the bar and leaned closer. “Kate, what’s going on?” he demanded.
    To her horror, a tear slid down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.
    Tony’s brown eyes, always the mirror of his emotions—­but no longer where she was concerned—­went wide. “Is something wrong? Is it Ethan?”
    â€œNo, nothing like that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” And then she had to wipe away another tear. “I’ve screwed everything up, Tony. I—­I couldn’t face them all at home. Not yet.” She gestured bitterly to the wineglass. “Guess I needed a drink to find my courage.”
    â€œYou always had courage, Kate, maybe too much of it.”
    She winced. Of course Tony wouldn’t want to hear her complaints—­he was convinced it was her fault their marriage fell apart. Oh, she shared the blame, but certainly not all of it. She should leave. She had no right to dump her problems on Tony.
    â€œMy firm put me on two months’ sabbatical,” she blurted out.
    He crossed his arms over his chest, still frowning. But he was watching her with those deep brown eyes, the ones that had once shown her the sympathy and understanding that had made her confide everything in him.
    She rushed on. “I shouldn’t tell you all the details—­I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I certainly won’t tell my family or Ethan. But it was wrong, Tony,” she insisted earnestly, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I mean, what the partners are doing is wrong, and no one will listen to me! I discovered a report my client hadn’t meant to include in some papers, a report that affects their filing with the FDA—­hell, it could affect the public health. In