Then the look vanished and he smiled. “Maybe we oughta go finish our pudding.”
They returned to the kitchen. Dalton’s eyes were glued to her mouth as she licked every bite of chocolate from her spork.
“Besides handyman stuff, what are you doing to fill your days?”
“I’ll put in an appearance at the rehab hospital. Then at some point this week I gotta get furniture for this place and a TV. I need something else to fill the void while I’m stuck here.”
Fill the void? Was that why he was being so cute and flirty with her? Because she was the void he intended to fill…in more ways than one?
Enough. You got what you needed, he explained why he left so walk away. Now.
“Well, good luck with that.” She tossed her empty pudding cup on her paper plate and stood to gather the trash.
“Rory. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I have to go.”
“Already? Stay.”
She whirled around. “Why? So you can fill a void? I’m just another way to kill time while you’re stuck here?”
Dalton took the garbage from her and flung it on the counter. Then he grabbed her upper arms. “Spend every waking hour that you’re not workin’ with me.”
“What? No. That’s ridiculous. I—”
He cut off her retort with a steamy kiss that made her wonder why she didn’t mouth off to him all the time.
After he thoroughly scrambled her brain, Dalton rested his forehead to hers. “If you would’ve said yes, then I wouldn’t need to buy a damn TV.”
“You are going to drive me crazy with this need to prove you’ve changed, aren’t you?”
“Something worth doin’ is worth doin’ well. And make no mistake, I’m doin’ it right with you this time.” He touched her face with the back of his hand. “Question is: will you let me?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“So flip,” he murmured. “You scared it might work?”
“So confident,” she shot back. “You scared you can’t convince me?”
He laughed.
Rory held up her hands. “Enough for one night. Please. I need to go home.”
Dalton helped her with her coat.
When she spun around to say something, he put his finger across her lips.
“Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
Chapter Five
Day two in the rehab hospital sucked ass.
Dalton didn’t know why he and his brothers were sitting in an overheated bedroom with a bitter man who didn’t want them there. The one time when he’d made eye contact with Casper, he’d seen that mean gleam—as if the ass**le was remembering the last conversation they’d had three years ago that’d resulted in Dalton leaving.
The TV blared behind him as Casper flipped between twenty-four hour news channels. At least the noise cut the tension in the room.
How long did they have to stay?
The respiratory therapist came in and Casper made that frantic motion that he wanted them out.
The three of them wound up in the reception area. Listening to the constant ding ding that indicated a resident needed assistance. The phone at the receptionist’s desk rang constantly. A couple of people in wheelchairs parked outside the reception area stared at them with vacant eyes. One guy waited by the door, intent on making a break for it.
The sights, sounds and smells overwhelmed him, but didn’t seem to bother his brothers at all.
Tell flipped through a newspaper. He read interesting tidbits out loud. Then he said, “Whoa, check this out.”
“What?” Brandt said.
“Remember last year when the legislature revised that law about elk farms?” Tell asked.
“Elk farms aren’t allowed in Wyoming,” Dalton said.
“True, but they passed a bill that allowed for privatization of a few elk farms on a trial basis. That last brucellosis outbreak with the Yellowstone herd f**ked up the brucellosis-free status for cattleman too. Which pissed off the Wyoming Stockgrowers Association. They demanded policy changes with the state’s wildlife management plan, but I know this ain’t what they had in mind. There’d been talk of privatization, but no one really believed it’d happen. No one wanted it to happen, but now it has happened. They’re takin’ applications. Only four permits will be issued.”
“What areas are included on the list?”
“Everywhere in Wyoming with the exception of the two areas where the state is already feeding wildlife—in Yellowstone and the Tetons.”
Years ago when he and Tell had discussed putting in a livestock feedlot adjacent to the land Gavin Daniels owned, Dalton had researched the wildlife end of it as an alternative, mostly thinking they could get into the buffalo business if the feedlot idea didn’t pan out.
When the feedlot hadn’t looked feasible, he’d gone so far as to check out privatized wildlife farms in Colorado and South Dakota to check the topography and containment and find out what type of acreage was needed for how many head.
Dalton hadn’t bothered checking the regulations for elk farms because they weren’t allowed in Wyoming. But now…this changed everything.
He needed something to do and a way to prove to Rory he intended to stick around. The section of land he owned might be a perfect fit for the program. Chances were slim his brothers had done improvements. After he checked the regulations and determined whether his land fit the criteria, he’d send in an application. No one would have to know until the applicant’s names were made public. Then he could offer Rory proof that he’d applied right away so she knew he was serious about staying in Sundance since she’d chosen to settle back here. He’d deal with any fallout with his family after the fact.
“Dalton? You okay?” Tell asked.
He glanced up. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You’re wearing an evil smile.”
“Because I’m planning ways to escape this hell.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “How long we stayin’ here?”
“Why? You got someplace else to be?” Brandt asked.
Anyplace besides here. “Casper don’t want us around. And I’ve grown past sticking around someplace where I’m not wanted.”
Tell and Brandt exchanged a look.
“What?”
“Do you really need us to point out how selfish and unsupportive that statement is?” Tell asked and tossed the newspaper on the table.
“But you didn’t dispute the truth of it. Look, maybe you guys have had reconciliation time with him. I haven’t. I haven’t seen the man in three years and I sure as f**k didn’t miss him.”