The irony of the situation didn’t fail to slap her in the face and it stung.
“That’s sort of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? You walked away from your life as well, didn’t you?” She offered a bitter laugh. “I walked away from my grandmother’s life to find my life.” Hannah sighed, suddenly weary. “I thought you of all people would understand. I thought you knew me. Apparently, I was wrong.”
“Nothing you say makes sense, Hannah. Your grandmother was a powerful woman. She could have found you and Clementine if she wanted to.”
“Yes. I’m sure she could have. So I stayed off the grid and under the radar at all times. I moved a lot. Dripping Falls is the longest I’ve lived anywhere. I lived there for six months before I came here.” She released a slow breath. “And maybe I didn’t share more because I was ashamed.”
“Your grandmother really threatened to take Clementine?”
“The threat was unspoken. But it was real. She took me away from my mother after I was born, and I always knew she would take Clementine if she so desired.”
He seemed caught off guard by that bit of information and for a moment, silence stretched between them, with only the noises of the stable that drifted through the glass, breaking the tension in the room.
“You never told me that about your mother.”
“Maybe because I was ashamed about that, too. I should have fought harder to find my mother before she died.” Hannah stared at Tripp as the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. Suddenly, she realized how he found out about her grandmother. “That man. Did you hire that Slats person?”
Tripp grimaced. “Yes.”
His answer was like a physical blow, and Hannah flinched at the pain. “He shared information about my past with you.” She paused. “I thought we were...close. I trusted you and I would have answered any question you asked. But you didn’t ask. You went behind my back.”
Emotion flashed in his eyes before he answered.
Hannah felt some relief that perhaps, finally, her words were getting through to him.
“It wasn’t like that, Hannah. I hired him a long time ago. When you first arrived. And then I fired him. He called and told me that he had information about you. I was concerned that it could compromise Clementine, so I agreed to hear him out.”
“This is why you were so angry on Friday.”
“Yes. That and seeing you with Jane.”
“What exactly did he tell you?” Hannah asked.
“He said you inherited a fortune from your grandmother. That you could buy and sell Big Heart Ranch if you wanted to.”
“That’s not a secret. I hope you didn’t pay him too much for that.”
“Is it true?”
“It’s absolutely true. But what he didn’t tell you is that I turned it down. I walked away. That’s not my money.” She shook her head. “All I ever wanted was my grandmother’s attention and unconditional love. The same thing my mother wanted.”
He stared at her. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”
She met his gaze. “Funny, because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”
“None of this makes sense. You could take care of your children with that money.”
“Bryant Oil is not my money. Even if I wanted to claim the estate, my grandmother’s will has strings attached in order to control my life even from the grave.”
“What strings?”
“Where I live, how Clementine is to be schooled, a prenuptial agreement if I marry again and a dozen more clauses in the will.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re a majority shareholder in Bryant Oil now.” He shook his head. “One newspaper article called you the runaway heiress.”
“Fake news, and I’m sure that sold a lot of newspapers.” She shrugged. “Actually, there is very little about me available online. I’ve stayed out of the spotlight since I left for college.”
“Hard to know what to believe,” he murmured.
“Yet, you were willing to believe Slats and what you read online over what I have been telling you for the last fifteen weeks.” She rubbed her forehead. “What the papers don’t say is that I relinquished any claim on the estate. A team of attorneys and the board of directors of Bryant Oil will run her company. Once the official paperwork is signed, then I’m out of the picture.”
“You’re going to tell me that you drove a broken-down Honda and lived from hand-to-mouth on purpose when you had a bank account you could have tapped into at any time?”
“I want my daughter to grow up with trust and with unconditional love. Not a love based on rules or financial payoffs. I want her to know there is a God out there who loves her unconditionally, as well. The money has never mattered.” Hannah took a deep breath. “My grandmother’s money has destroyed my life at every turn.”
Hannah stood and paced back and forth, trying to contain the emotions that threatened to erupt. Finally, she stopped and stared out the office window at the stables. She had trusted Tripp Walker with her heart and soul and secrets. He’d let her down, like everyone else. Rejected by one man because she didn’t have a fortune and by another because she did.
Suddenly, she was angry. Angrier than she’d been in a long time, because anger didn’t come easily to Hannah. She was annoyed and irritated on a regular basis. Especially with Tripp. But never truly angry. She always found a way to see around the issue and back off before she reached a boiling point.
But now...now she was mad enough to do something stupid and that meant it was time to back off and walk away. She pulled her purse out of the bottom drawer and turned to face him.
“You’ve made yourself judge and juror and found me guilty. The truth is that the only thing I’ve ever been guilty of is believing in happy endings when clearly since birth, my life has been nothing but betrayals.”
She stepped toward the door.
“Where are you going now?”
“I quit.”
“We leave for Fort Worth on Thursday. You can’t quit until then. We have an agreement.” Though he said the words, the fight seemed to have gone out of Tripp.
“Our agreement was broken when you chose to believe Slats over me.” She opened the door. “I’ll be in Fort Worth for Jane. Because she deserves it. Then I’m leaving.”
“That’s your specialty, isn’t it, Hannah? Leaving?” he murmured.
Her steps slowed at his words. “Maybe so, and maybe someday I’ll regret this, but I don’t think so.”
Hannah kept walking until she was out of the stables and into the sunshine.
“Well, now you’ve gone and done it,” she heard Dutch grumble as she left.
She walked past Jane’s pen, her gaze lingering on the copper horse. The mare nickered as if calling out.
“I can’t, Jane. I can’t. I have to keep moving or I’ll never make it to the bunkhouse without breaking down.”
Hannah clenched her jaw, fighting off the ache deep in her soul. Jane accepted her unconditionally, and in return, she loved that horse with her whole heart. Now she had to leave her. As if her heart wasn’t broken into enough pieces already. Head down, Hannah sniffed and kept walking.
Rue was in the doorway of the bunkhouse with a box in her arms when Hannah arrived.
“Oh, hi there, Hannah. I’m just dragging more of my stuff back to my apartment.” She hitched the box higher in her arms. “What are you doing home so early?”
“I...” Hannah stumbled over a response.
Rue peered closer. “Oh, Hannah, is everything all right?”
“No,” Hannah said. “Everything is perfectly awful.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do, Rue.” She put her hand on the older woman’s arm. “Some days I just have to wonder how I could have so thoro
ughly and completely missed God. It’s like I had my eyes closed when He put up the road signs.”
“We all experience that, dear. Trust me.” She smiled sadly. “This too shall pass.”
“That’s normally what I would have said.” Hannah released a sad sigh. “But I don’t think there’s anything about this that’s going to pass anytime soon.”
* * *
“You planning to be like this the whole ride to Fort Worth? If so, it’s gonna be the longest five hours of my life,” Dutch said.
“Like what?” Tripp scowled and gripped the steering wheel all the harder as he focused on the road and the precious cargo in the horse trailer.
“Like you’re waiting to slug someone, that’s what.” Dutch jammed his hat on his head and crossed his arms. “I tell you, I’ve had fun before, and this ain’t it.”
“Why is it you’re riding with me, anyhow?” Tripp asked.
“Because Hannah is acting even ornerier than you are and she flat refused to ride with you. Lucy ordered me to. Since she signs my checks, here I sit.”
“Great. Just absolutely perfect,” Tripp growled.
When Dutch reached out to turn on the radio, Tripp’s arm shot out to stop him.
“I’m not listening to that cry in your beer, miss my horse, my girlfriend doesn’t love me music,” he said, instantly irritated.
“We can listen to something else,” Dutch said.
“Quiet is good,” Tripp returned.
“No, quiet just gives you more time inside your head and I’m not too sure that’s a good place for anyone right now.”
There was silence for the next few miles before Tripp finally shot a glance at Dutch. “The breadcrumbs were all there,” he said.
“Huh? The what?”
“Hannah. I chose to see what I wanted to see.” He shook his head. Like Hannah and the letters from Jake Maxwell to her mother. Hannah saw what she needed to see because she desperately needed a family.
He’d seen Hannah as a scheming, irresponsible single mother because that’s what he needed to see to once again justify his rotten childhood. Of course, he chose to ignore all the little things along the way that said she wasn’t at all what he’d labeled her.
“Aww, get over yerself, will you?” Dutch remarked.
Tripp jerked back at the words. “Excuse me?”
“You’re mad at Hannah because it turns out she’s not a grifter. Is that about right?”
“No,” he started. “No. I didn’t say that.”
“Sure you did.” Dutch snorted. “I didn’t notice you speaking up when everyone thought you and she were an item.”
“I did that for Clementine.”
“Yeah, right. I’m pretty sure you were okay with things when you thought you were the one saving her. When you got to be the hero.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. You’re copacetic if you’re the one wearing the cape. Looks to me like you’re plum scared because the tables are turned.”
“Now you’re just insulting me for no good reason.”
Dutch kept talking without pause.
“I think you got a whiff of that, which is what’s eating you up. Ever think that maybe Hannah and Clementine are saving you?”
Tripp gripped the steering wheel, debating whether he should let the old cowboy walk the rest of the way to Fort Worth. The idea held merit, but Lucy would kill him.
“You listening to me?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Tripp asked.
Dutch kept talking. “I think your problem is now you think Hannah is too good for you because of her money.”
Tripp glanced over at the old wrangler. “How did you know about the money?”
“Same as you. I tracked down Slats and he told me everything for a small nominal fee.”
“You paid him?”
“Sure I did. I’m emotionally invested in Hannah and Clementine. Unlike you, I care about what’s going to happen to them even if that slimy cowboy charged me half my paycheck.”
He paused. “Rue made you do it, didn’t she?”
“That, too. Doesn’t matter, I was willing. More than willing.”
“By the way, I do care,” Tripp added.
“Then act like it. This ain’t all about you and your feelings.”
Tripp swallowed the ugly truth that Dutch Stevens, of all people, was right.
What could he possibly offer someone like Hannah? She had so much potential, and now that she was no longer hiding, the whole world was hers to grab. She might decide she wanted to be an heiress after all.
Why would she need him in her life?
He was protecting himself from what couldn’t possibly end well.
Tripp inhaled and exhaled slowly.
Besides, they had nothing in common, he told himself. Nothing to build a future on. Nothing.
“It’s your differences that make a relationship interesting. Not your similarities,” Dutch said. “Not much fun to fall in love with a clone of yourself.” The old cowboy shot him a look that said that was a particularly unpleasant thought.
Tripp stared at him. Was the crotchety wrangler reading his mind? And who said anything about love?
“What are you looking at?” Dutch asked. “You don’t get to be my age without learning a thing or two.” He shrugged. “Why do you think Rue and I get along so well?”
Tripp wasn’t going to touch that one. He stared out the window for minutes before responding.
“You don’t understand, Dutch. That woman is way out of my league. The pitiful part is that I’ve spent the last three months thinking she was a gold digger. Fighting my feelings and being judgmental because I thought she had a shady history. What a joke. Even worse, what does that say about my judgment?”
“A tad off the mark, I’ll give you that. But then you’ve always been somewhat skewed and cynical in your outlook when it comes to grown-up type people.”
“Skewed and cynical? That’s not true.”
“Sure, it is. You give kids and horses a second chance. You’ll go out on a limb to trust them and offer unconditional love. Anyone else? They cross you once and you write them off.”
Dutch shook his head. “And cynical?” He laughed. “You wouldn’t see a silver lining if it wrapped itself around your big head and tugged.”
Tripp turned and glared.
“I’m just saying.”
“Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think.”
“What I think is that all you young bucks are the same. You get run over by love and you struggle to stand, looking around, trying to figure out what hit you without a clue that what you need to do is grovel and get it over with.”
“I’m not in love with Hannah,” Tripp roared.
“Whatever you say.” Dutch chuckled, unperturbed by the fact that Tripp was now fuming.
“Look, we have a long ride ahead of us and I don’t want to spend it talking about Hannah,” Tripp said.
“Fine by me. But you and me both know you’re gonna be thinking about her all the way down I-35 South.”
Tripp took a deep breath and shook his head, knowing the old wrangler was right and hating it.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s wrong with Jane?” Dutch asked as he dragged a bale of hay into the stall.
Tripp stepped into the stall and did a quick assessment, running a gentle hand over her flank and abdomen and then inspecting her legs. “Doesn’t seem to be a physical ailment, but something is definitely off,” Tripp said. “I’m just not sure what.”
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Dutch prodded. “You’re the horse whisperer.”
“Be that as it may, I don’t know what’s wrong. Jane flat refuses to budge.” He stepped out of the stall. “She was fin
e at Big Heart Ranch and she’s not fine now. That’s all I know for sure.”
“Did she hurt herself in the trailer?”
“That doesn’t appear to be the case.”
“That mare has got her face in the corner. That’s not good,” Dutch said with a frown.
“Thanks for the valuable input, there, pal.” Tripp’s gaze moved to the center aisle. He glanced around the backstage area of the Fort Worth arena, which was lined on both sides with stalls. The place was huge, with over two thousand horse stalls total in the multiple arenas. The facility was used for public events in the auditoriums and had an impressive livestock complex and multiple arenas. Underground tunnels connected the equestrian facilities.
Today, the place was busy with cowboys, staff and even the media. There was a buzz of excitement in the air. This was it. The finals. The culmination of everything he’d work for. Could he deliver?
The judges were at the other end of the center aisle right now, but it wouldn’t be long before they were right in his face.
“Maybe it’s because she’s used to being turned out 24/7,” Dutch mused. “Or maybe she’s just plum mad at you.”
“Why would she be mad at me?”
“I can think of a dozen reasons,” Dutch muttered.
“She’s not mad at me, but I’ve got to do something before those judges come around with their little clipboards. I could lose forty points before this even begins, and then I’m out of it. One small misstep and we may as well go home. One hundred days of training circling the drain.”
The horse had been eating, drinking and eliminating without a problem. Tripp glanced at Jane again, suddenly realizing that Dutch might not be too off the mark.
No, Jane wasn’t mad at him. She missed Hannah. Leaving Big Heart Ranch and coming to this strange environment had only intensified the mare’s feelings of loss.
Tripp swallowed hard because he knew his next decision meant laying down his pride and doing what was best for the horse. Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure eating his hat would save them today, but he had to try.
“What are we going to do?” Dutch asked as he spread the hay around the stall.
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