“Hi.” She holds up her phone. “Call for you. I guess you’re not answering your phone.”
I blink wide awake, worried now about what is going on, and take the phone. “Hello?”
“Han, baby, it’s two in the morning.”
At the sound of Roarke’s voice, I warm all over. “Roarke.”
“Go to the house. Stay the night. Get some rest.”
“Where are you?”
“Houston. Give Allison her phone and call me when you get to the house.”
There is no hesitation in me. Not only am I staying here, in Roarke’s house, I’m eager to call him back. I need to talk to him. “Yes. Okay. I’ll call you back.” I disconnect and hand the phone to Allison. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
We both stand, and she smiles. “You’re good with the animals. And Roarke. One day I hope someone looks at me the way he looks at you.”
I feel a pinch of guilt for being jealous of Allison. It wasn’t fair to her or Roarke. “You will. You’re beautiful and talented.” I think of the advice Roarke had given me that day when we rode the stallion that hurt me, the same advice I’ve let guide me when I’m behind a lens. “Relax into what you’re doing. That’s when your magic will show. Let the animals, or even the people you’re dealing with around the animals, feel your kind soul, not your nerves. Your calm feeds calm. Your nerves feed nerves. Your trust breeds trust.”
“Good advice. I think I think too much, instead of just living in the moment.”
“As do I,” I say, and with that, I hurry out of the stall and toward the house, Roarke’s house.
I want to live in the moment with Roarke. I just hope the moment isn’t lost.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hannah…
I grab the few things I have with me from the car, and without hesitating, I walk up the steps to the house, with a motion detector setting off a splay of light. I know where the key is hidden. Roarke knew I’d know where the key was hidden. I walk to the statue of a stallion in the corner of the porch by a rocking chair, pull open a hidden compartment, and remove the key.
I waste no time heading inside, flipping on lights, and locking up. I grab my box that is now on the ground by the door and find myself staring at the living room, where I’ve spent so many days of my life. I was always here. Jason, Roarke, and me. Our parents had all been best friends. We’d been best friends.
Eager to talk to Roarke, I head up the stairs and go to his room. Once I’m there, I set my box by the bed, run to the bathroom, and when I finish up there, I kick off my shoes and climb onto the mattress. I dial Roarke, and he answers on the first ring. “Silly woman. What are you doing sleeping out there alone? Sick animals can act out. You could have been hurt.”
“You’re right. Sorry. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep out there. I guess I didn’t want to go back to my room. I wanted to be here.”
He’s silent for several beats. “Where are you right now?”
I swallow hard. “Your bed.”
He breathes out. “Ah fuck, Han.”
“I, uh—if you don’t want me to be—”
“You know I want you there. I just want you to be there with me. Or hell, maybe you don’t know. Maybe you never knew. If you knew, you’d have been in my bed all these years.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.” I settle back against the headboard.
“What about it?”
“Maybe you were right. Maybe I ran. I was young, and I felt in over my head with you, Roarke. Maybe I didn’t let you explain because I just always thought I wouldn’t be enough, so if you didn’t cheat, then you would.”
“That’s what you think of me—that I’ll cheat? That it’s inevitable? That’s what you thought of us?”
“I was a girl, not a woman. You’d been my crush my entire life. I’m not a girl anymore, but the girl ruined it for the woman. I miss you.”
“But you don’t trust me.”
“I was a girl,” I repeat, “and I was wrong not to listen. I don’t know what else to say besides that I’m sorry. And I wanted to say this in person, but you’re there and I’m here and I couldn’t wait.”
“Why the change, Hannah?”
“Being with you woke me up. That’s why. I missed you and us, but I’m getting the feeling that you won’t get over me judging you instead of trusting you.”
“I’ll answer that this way. I’ve been doing some thinking, too.”
I inhale and breathe out, terrified of what he’s going to say next. “And?”
“I was angry that you didn’t trust me, but not once did I look at myself and ask why. Not once did I ask what I did to allow you, the woman who was everything to me, to doubt me. I thought we were so damn strong, that we were shatterproof.”
“You didn’t cause that in me.”
“I don’t believe I caused it. I’ve thought about that as well. I loved you beyond all else. There was no way I could love you more, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have done more. I didn’t notice your insecurity. I should have seen it, but damn it, you should have talked to me, too.”
“I don’t think I realized how strong it was, how insecure I was. Honestly, Roarke, I’m only now admitting to myself how I felt. But it was me, not you. I think it was the wrong time for us. Maybe I needed to find my own place in the world, to stand next to you in yours.”
“And now?”
“I’m a damn good photographer. I have a reputation. I left because my boss got in some trouble, but I could have stayed. I’d have had some discomfort for a short window, but I would have made it. I was close to stepping out of his shadow, but I didn’t really like that world. It’s not me. I’m not high fashion. I’m Sweetwater chic. I’m animals and horizons and people’s faces, not their dress sizes.”
“That never felt like you, but why event planning not photography?”
“Because I love making everything come together into something beautiful. It’s like my form of surgery. I’m having fun. I haven’t had fun in a very long time. And as for my photography, at my core, it’s my passion, yes. I have some ideas about where I want to go with it, and I’d love to tell you about them, but the point is, I know who I am now. That changes a person. I wish you were here.”
“Me, too, Han. Me, too.”
“How are the horses?”
“I believe it’s a food-borne illness. We’re running tests, and I’m treating a good half dozen horses. I called my father. He’s joining me here tomorrow.”
“Your father? I thought he retired.”
“I hope this shows him that he has a purpose beyond a scalpel. I think you inspired that call.”
“Me?”
“Yes. At some point, I’ll explain why, but not now. Not on the phone.”
“When do you think you’ll be back?”
“I don’t have a timeline.”
“What about Bella and Snowflake?”
“One of my staff additions who you haven’t met, Javier Vasquez, has been on a humanitarian trip to Mexico to help deal with a cattle contamination. He’s back tomorrow. Javier is damn good. You’ll like him.”
“I like you here better.”
“And I will be soon. We both need to rest.”
“Yes. I suppose we do.”
He’s silent a moment. “I wanted to know where you’d go when you got to the house. I wanted to know if you’d go to my bedroom.”
A hotspot starts in my chest. “And I did.”
“Yes. Yes, you did. Goodnight, Han.”
“Goodnight, Roarke.”
We disconnect, and I lie back on the mattress, his mattress. The man I love, and yet, even here, on his bed, in his house, we’re worlds away, and not just in miles. We just opened a door. Now we have to find out if it can stay open.
Chapter Twe
nty-Nine
Hannah…
I wake to sunlight and the ding of my text messages. I grab my phone to find a photo of about twelve wild horses running across an open field. Of course it’s from Roarke, and I text back: Beautiful.
Yes, he replies. And two of them fell sick this morning. It’s not the food supply, or they wouldn’t be affected.
Has your dad arrived? I reply.
My phone rings and I accept the call to hear his answer. “Not yet. Hoping like hell he has some insight.”
“What are you thinking?” I ask, sitting up, hearing the frustration in his voice.
“Poison. I think it’s poison.”
“Intentional?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
“But how many more horses suffer before I do?” He doesn’t wait for the answer I can’t give him. “I need to go into surgery, but look in the box under the bed. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Good luck in surgery.”
We disconnect, and I’m officially curious about what’s under the bed. I throw away the blankets and climb out of the bed, but not before I inhale that wholly masculine scent of Roarke clinging to the sheets. I go down on my knees and pull the box from beneath, lifting the lid and sucking in a breath at what I find. He kept my clothes? I have no idea why this feels significant, but it does. Perhaps because it’s as if he never let me go, even when I thought that’s exactly what he did.
I pull out my old brown cowboy boots with blue flowers on them as well as my old favorite jeans and a black T-shirt with a stallion on it. I even have socks and a bra and panties. This is perfect. I set it all on the bed, and I’m about to get up when I notice something else under the bed to my left. I reach for it and pull it out, sucking in a breath at the sight of my red boots, the boots I planned to wear under my wedding dress.
I stand up and set them on the bed, my heart thundering in my ears. These boots are special. This man is special. Suddenly, I want them on my feet. I want to wear them like I do this life with Roarke. I sit down in the corner on a big overstuffed brown chair, and when I go to pull on the right boot, I hit something. I reach inside and pull out a velvet box. My heart is now exploding. Oh God. My ring. He kept my ring. I open the box and stare down at the heart-shaped diamond, and I’m back under the big oak tree where we carved our names, the river flowing beside us, two horse tied up nearby.
Roarke goes down on his knee in front of me. “What are you doing?” I ask, laughing, in a fabulous mood after a fabulous ride.
“Hopefully not screwing this up.” He reaches in the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing and produces a box, which he opens. Inside is a stunning heart-shaped diamond ring. “I had it custom made. A heart because you have my heart. I love you, Hannah. You as my wife will complete my life. Will you marry me?”
My tears are instant, streaming down my cheeks. “Yes. Yes.”
He stands up and slides the ring on my shaking hand before he kisses me, and I’m the one who feels complete.
I come back to the present and stare down at the engagement ring. I love this ring. I love this man. God, how I wish I could turn back time, but even as I have that thought, I think of my words to Roarke last night. I was young, too young when we were together. I wasn’t ready. We weren’t ready. I close the box, and I set it and the boots on the ottoman in front of the chair. I could put the boots and ring back under the bed, but I’m not going to do that. I ran before. I hid from everything, including Roarke. I’m ready to talk about the past to live in the present more fully. When Roarke gets back, I’m going to be right here, waiting on him, and so are those boots and that ring. I don’t know if that’s where we’re headed again, but I no longer want to shut that door any more than I want to force it open, either.
I shoot Roarke a message: I know you won’t read this until surgery is over. I’m thinking about you. That’s all I wanted to say. I hesitate and breathe out, and I think about Jason’s insistence that Roarke didn’t cheat. I don’t know what happened, but I know Roarke cheating on me never felt right. That’s why it was so completely devastating. I glance at the clothes I’ve left on the bed. He kept my things. He didn’t let go. I glance down at the message and dare to put myself on the line by adding, I was really always thinking of you.
With that, I head to the shower, his shower, and what’s telling to me is that I don’t feel fear. I don’t feel like I’ve just set myself up to be hurt again with Roarke.
Chapter Thirty
Hannah…
An hour later, I’m dressed, and with what products and items I can scavenge in Roarke’s bathroom, I dry my hair and apply the makeup from my purse. As far as a place to work, I think I might just use that big brown chair in Roarke’s bedroom. I want to be in this room. It feels like him. It feels like home. It doesn’t matter that my parents’ place is gone. The truth is that Roarke, and the animals, and this place, just feel like home.
First things first, I make coffee, and then head to the stables to check on the horses. Once I’m through the double wooden doors, I find Allison standing with a tall, good-looking, dark-haired man and a horse.
“Hannah!” Allison greets. “Bella and Snowflake are on their feet and doing well this morning.”
I light up. “Marvelous. Wow. That is such great news.”
“You must be the infamous Hannah,” the man says, crossing to offer me his hand.
I accept his hand. “And you must be the infamous Javier,” I reply to the man I guess to be about thirty-five. He’s also tall, fit, with thick, wavy dark hair and friendly brown eyes.
He laughs, a low masculine laugh that is as friendly as his eyes. “Indeed I am. Roarke told me to expect you around the stables.”
“And Roarke told me how magnificent you are at saving animals. I’m honored to be around the stables with you.” I look between Javier and Allison. “I made coffee if either of you wants some. Just walk on into the house. I left the door open. I’m going to say good morning to the horses.”
If either thinks it’s strange that I’m in Roarke’s house, they don’t react as if they do. I head toward Bella’s “bedroom,” as I like to think of their stalls, and Javier calls out, “There are two horses joining the retirement farm today. Roarke thought you might want to greet them on arrival.”
I stop walking and smile with both the opportunity and the fact that Roarke told Javier I’d want to be involved. I turn to look at him. “What time?”
“Late. About six o’clock. I can call you when they arrive.”
“I’ll be here,” I say. “And thank you. I want to go visit the retirees anyway. How many are there now?”
“Twenty here. He bought a property sixty miles south that has fifty horses.”
This warms me. Roarke saves animals. It’s so damn sexy. “That’s a lot of horses that need attention. I’m looking forward to helping give it to them.”
He smiles, a very nice smile, and I don’t miss the way Allison is watching him with intense eyes. She didn’t look at Roarke like this. She likes Javier. I might just have a little matchmaker in me, because I like them together. With that thought, I turn and head toward Bella, and I decide right then that I need to go to my room and get my camera. I’m itching to do what I once did: photograph the animals, capture the special moments that show how perfect they are when we as humans are so damn imperfect. Those shots will be my prize-winning, career-making shots, because they’re my passion shots. That’s what my life has been missing. Passion. No. A love for life.
It’s midmorning when I walk into the bed and breakfast and become a victim of the Sue Avalanche. Her comments and questions include:
“I noticed you weren’t here last night.”
“I told Debbie over at the country store how cute you two are together.”
“What
was the emergency that got flown in the other night?”
“Where’s Roarke?”
“Are you two planning a wedding again?”
That last one punches me in the belly. “I don’t know about a wedding, but we’re planning a Christmas festival with Martha’s new gingerbread cookie being launched during the event.”
Of course, I know this reply will have her calling Martha, but that’s fine by me. As long as I don’t have to answer any questions. When I leave with my suitcase, she’s all smiles. Of course, I haven’t been officially invited to stay at Roarke’s place more than last night, but my gut says I need to be clear on where I stand, and I’m pretty sure my suitcase and me in his bedroom makes my point.
I stop by the store, shocked and pleased to meet no one I know there, and it’s not because I don’t want to get reacquainted with people. It’s about what I said to Roarke. I need to figure this out just him and me, and that’s the one negative to Sweetwater: everyone is always watching. There is no privacy. For now, though, I get my privacy, and with popcorn, fruit, and veggies, I’m stocked for a healthy few days of work. With the holidays coming, it’s eat well now, and eat junk later with no guilt. By noon, I’ve made myself what my mom used to make me: biscuits and tomatoes with salt and pepper. It’s a whole lot of heaven in my mouth.
I’m done eating, and I haven’t heard from Roarke, but I don’t read into that at all. He’s got his hands full. He needs to stay focused on those sick horses. Instead of fretting about his silence, I hunker down with coffee in the big chair in Roarke’s room and start working. Priority number one: I need hotel partnerships. I figure that out quickly. Priority number two: I need a website to host the auctions. Finding someone to do this takes me a few hours, but soon, the work is in progress.
It’s about four o’ clock, and I’m starting to get anxious about that text to Roarke. Have I misread him? Am I taking this to a place he didn’t want to go? I mean, I did dive right into sex. Maybe that’s all that’s comfortable to him with our history. My mother’s many warnings about not being too available to men and keeping my legs shut claw at me. I head down to the kitchen and make another pot of coffee when my cellphone that, yes, is attached to my palm, rings, and this time, it’s Roarke.
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