by Cindy Kirk
She preferred to avoid that pain.
Over lunch, she reread her dad’s letter and wondered again at the lack of return address. What was he so afraid of? That she’d show up on his doorstep? Was the idea of making peace with his only daughter so scary? His actions didn’t make sense and her continued attempts to figure it out only made her head ache and her heart hurt more.
The night before Brad had left for LA had been a restless one for her. Last night hadn’t been much better. When she casually asked his father if he knew what Brad was doing in LA, his father had played dumb. Obviously, she wasn’t to be trusted with any Crawford business intel.
After washing the lunch dishes, Margot went upstairs to take a nap. She’d only slept twenty minutes when Vivian began barking. Since she wasn’t expecting anyone, the only thing she could figure was Todd had returned for something he’d forgotten.
Margot pushed back the cotton throw and stood. She’d just reached the stairwell when she heard the doorknob rattle. Seconds later, the front door creaked open.
She froze, her mind racing. Brad was out of town and not due back for forty-eight hours. Todd didn’t have a key. She distinctly recalled him handing it over when she and Brad returned from Kalispell. Besides, Todd knew she was home. He’d have knocked.
Margot recalled an article in the Rust Creek Falls Gazette the week before about a rise in unsolved burglaries in the county. Her heart slammed against her chest. She reached for her phone intending to call the sheriff then cursed. She’d left the cell downstairs on the kitchen table.
Her gaze settled on the baseball bat perched against the wall. Picking it up, Margot crept down the stairs. The fact that she could no longer hear Vivian barking worried her.
She was on the third to the last step when she caught sight of the intruder. Margot slowly lowered the weapon, unable to tear her eyes from him.
Brad flashed that familiar smile as his gaze settled on the bat. “Guess I can’t complain about the welcome since that’s how I greeted you the first time we met.”
Just hearing that familiar baritone brought a stab of pain. He looked exhausted. His dark hair was mussed from the wind and lines of fatigue edged his eyes, eyes that now were dark and somber.
“How are you, Margot?” His gaze searched hers. “Did you miss me?”
She steeled her heart and sauntered down the steps, setting the bat against the wall. “I’ve been busy.”
He glanced at one of her bags sitting by the door. “Busy packing from the way it looks.”
“This isn’t my home anymore.” Though she spoke normally, her lips felt frozen and stiff. “I don’t belong here.”
He lowered his duffel to the floor. “How do you figure?”
“My dad signed the place over to you. He made it clear in the letter he wanted you to have it.”
“We discussed this before.” His voice held a hint of reproach. “I thought we were going to wait to make any decisions until we located your dad and spoke with him personally.”
“I—I can’t do this anymore, Brad.”
He took a step closer.
She took a step back, bumping up against the stairs.
“Can’t do what?” Those intense green eyes focused on hers. There was weariness in the iridescent depths she hadn’t noticed before.
She fluttered a hand in the air. “Live in limbo any longer.”
“Let’s take the topic of you moving out off the table right now.” Brad reached inside his jacket, pulled out a legal-sized envelope and held it out to her.
Margot took the ivory envelope, but made no move to open it. “What is in here?”
“It’s the deed to the Leap of Faith,” he told her. “I had it put legally in your name.”
She tossed the envelope down on the sideboard. “Why would you do that?”
“The Leap of Faith is your legacy, not mine.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I believe if your dad knew how much it meant to you, he’d have given it to you, not me.”
Tears filled her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to believe that... “I don’t think—”
“You read his letter. He thought you had the wanderlust and wouldn’t be happy here. I believe he was wrong. I think you can be happy here.”
Margot moistened her suddenly dry lips. She could be happy here, but only if she was with Brad. If they weren’t together, it would be torture to be in Rust Creek Falls. If only he would tell her he loved her and wanted them to be together.
But no words of love filled the air, only a silent, watchful waiting.
Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Keep the ranch, Brad. I’ll be going back on the circuit in the spring, anyway.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something then closed it. His gaze searched hers. “Is that what you want?”
I want you.
For a second Margot feared she’d spoken aloud, but if she had he showed no response, only stood there breaking her heart with his silence.
“Sure.” She managed an offhand tone. “A championship is what I’ve been working toward all these years.”
He slowly nodded. Was it only her imagination or was that disappointment in his eyes? She took another look. Nope, just wishful thinking on her part.
Brad glanced at the bag then back at her. “What’s the rush? At least stay until the doctor releases you.”
That option still tugged at her. She knew it was why she hadn’t yet called Jilly’s parents. Margot supposed she could stay and play house with Brad. Yet, if she did that, she knew every day her heart would break a little more until it had been reduced to a handful of shattered bits.
“I need to leave.” She waved the protest that sprang to his lips. “I planned to be out tomorrow. It’s best I stick to that timetable.”
Her voice sounded cold, almost brusque. She was only thankful it didn’t quiver.
Tonight, she would make plans for Storm. No more procrastinating. Tomorrow, she would leave as scheduled.
He exhaled a breath. “At least we’ll have tonight togeth—”
“Actually, I have plans.”
The last of the light in his eyes vanished. His expression turned to stone. “Forgive me for being presumptuous. I thought since it was our last night together, we could have dinner.”
Something, a little something she couldn’t quite identify in the way he said the words made her wonder if he did care. She opened her mouth to tell him she would change her plans when he continued.
“We could use the time to hammer out the details regarding the management of the ranch.”
Margot shut her mouth with a snap, grateful she hadn’t bared her soul. He hadn’t been thinking of an intimate dinner between the two of them. He’d been considering the logistics of her leaving.
Why should that surprise her, she wondered? He’d obviously already moved on and was looking ahead to the future. A future that didn’t include her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brad spent the next hour alternately cursing himself for being a fool for loving a woman who obviously didn’t feel the same and then cursing himself for not having the guts to tell her how he felt.
In some ways it was that last night with Janie all over again. Except he and Margot had never made a commitment to each other.
Which was complete bull.
He’d never have slept with her, never taken advantage of her—his father’s words, not his—if he hadn’t already committed himself to her and their relationship.
Yet the first time he’d had the opportunity to lay his heart on the line and fight for their relationship, what had he done? He’d taken a step back.
That was bull, too.
He would not give in to fear or pride or whatever it was that had kept him from going after the woman
he loved. He’d fight for her and for what they’d started to build together. This was a battle he couldn’t afford to lose.
First step was to figure out where she’d gone this evening. He thought about the penguin desk calendar she’d purchased in Kalispell. She’d started using it almost immediately. He only hoped she’d taken the time to pencil in tonight’s appointment.
He found the calendar on the kitchen counter, directly beneath the ancient wall phone that still sported a rotary dial. There was only one entry for today.
Sierra. NILE. 7:00 p.m.
Smiling for the first time since he’d received his father’s phone call when he was in Los Angeles, Brad headed immediately for his truck, ready to do battle for the woman he loved.
* * *
Margot sat alone on an upper bleacher in the Majestic Valley Arena, a popular venue located between Kalispell and Whitefish.
Tonight the Northern International Livestock Exposition, commonly referred to as NILE by those living in the area, was holding their annual stock show and rodeo. Sierra was competing in the 19-and-under class.
This marked the first time Margot had attended a rodeo since she was injured. A wave of nostalgia washed over her at the familiar sights and smells. The cheers from the crowd when a bull rider stayed on for eight seconds or a barrel racer had a good ride, becoming one with her horse around the turns. The smell of fried foods mixed with the sawdust and sweat. Men in Tony Lama boots, Stetsons and shiny belt buckles and women wearing tight jeans and boots with turquoise trim.
For as far back as Margot could remember this had been her world. Though it hadn’t been an easy life, she’d loved it. Still, Margot had to admit that somewhere along the way the desire to reach the top had slipped away. Not to say she hadn’t loved winning. Each time she rode into the ring she’d always given it her all.
Yet she realized the promise of a championship no long drove her.
“Sierra Krupicka.”
Margot pulled her thoughts back to the present, to her student who sat poised to enter the ring. During their lesson Margot had spent a lot of time working with Sierra and how the girl positioned herself on the horse.
She narrowed her gaze, feeling her own heart race as she watched the girl round the first barrel. Sierra was doing much better, leaning slightly forward and pushing down in the stirrups but she was still a little out of the saddle during the turn.
It’s something we’ll need to work on...
The thought went no further. There would be no more sessions with Sierra or with Jilly. Margot found it telling that the thought of not teaching bothered her more than the idea of not competing.
She rose to her feet and clapped when Sierra’s time flashed. Very respectable. The girl had the makings of a champion.
“Your instruction made a difference,” a deep voice beside her remarked.
Margot’s heart slammed against her chest. She turned to find Brad standing beside her seat. Wearing jeans and a battered leather jacket, he looked the same as he had back at the house.
No, she realized, something was different. It was the look of determination in his eyes.
“What...what are you doing here?” she stammered.
He gestured with his head toward the ring. “I was watching Sierra race. Now I’m speaking with you.”
“Enjoy the rodeo.” She twisted her lips into a semblance of a smile. “I was just leaving.”
Margot started to slip past him but he grabbed her hand and tugged her back down into her seat, then sat beside her.
She studied his set jaw and that single-minded look in his eyes and sighed. “What exactly is it you want to talk about?”
He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m aware you’ve spent the better part of your childhood and the past twelve years following your father’s dream—”
“It was my dream, too,” Margot insisted. She lifted her chin, daring him to disagree.
Brad shook his head, the weariness back in his eyes. “Is it really? If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself.”
Margot glared at him, suddenly furious. Who was he to come here and play these games? “You have no idea what I think, what I feel.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Only because you don’t trust me enough to share those feelings with me.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “You know I had to learn from my father that you were planning to move out?”
“He called you.” Margot didn’t know why it took her until now to make the connection with Brad’s early return.
“Darn right he called me.” Brad’s jaw lifted in that familiar stubborn tilt she loved so much. “Thank God he did or I’d have come back and you’d have been gone.”
“Like I told you back at the house, it’s time for me to move on. I don’t belong at the Leap of Faith.”
Brad took a deep breath in an attempt to control his frustration. He would not, he told himself, lose his cool.
“Why do you think my father stayed in Montana all those years, Brad? Why do you think he didn’t leave a long time ago?”
The sudden change in topic took him by surprise. Was it a ploy on her part to shift the conversation? It seemed likely. Still, she looked genuinely concerned.
“Hard to say,” he muttered. Boyd Sullivan and his behavior was a sore subject. “You knew him better than me.”
“My mother loved it here, I know that.”
“Maybe that’s your answer.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“She loved it here and he loved her.” His tone turned pensive. “When a man loves a woman he’ll go to great lengths to make her happy. Perhaps staying here was a choice he made for her. Now, with Giselle gone, maybe he’s doing what’s right for him.”
The thought that there had been nothing for Boyd in Rust Creek Falls once her mother died chafed like a too-tight boot. If Margot accepted that explanation, she had to also accept that she hadn’t mattered enough.
Just like she didn’t matter to Brad. She loved him and all he wanted was a casual bedmate. “I need to go.”
Margot navigated the steps in a reckless stride. Once she reached the mail level, she didn’t even take time to zip her coat before stepping out into the parking lot. She was halfway to her truck before it registered that large, white flakes now filled the air.
Other than the occasional roar emanating from inside the arena, the night was still. The fluorescent parking lot lights shone bright overhead.
Though there were no vintage street lamps and this was a parking lot, not a street filled with quaint shops, Margot thought of the pretty snow globe she and Brad had admired on their trip to Kalispell: the one with the man and woman dancing.
Look Forward With Hope, Not Backwards With Regret had been one of her mother’s favorite sayings. Margot had never really understood what it meant. Now she did.
She should have bought her mother gifts that made her feel loved and cherished. She should have been honest and told Brad how she felt about him.
It was too late to do anything about her mother. But Brad, well, there was still time.
Eager to return to the arena, Margot stopped, whirled and slammed into a broad, firm chest.
“I—I’m so sorry,” she began then realized it was Brad’s strong hands steadying her. “You...you—”
“I followed you. I can’t let you go, Margot. I—”
“It’s the snow globe,” she blurted out before he could finish. “Being out here reminds me of the one we saw in the Christmas shop. Of course here it’s the moon, instead of those streetlamps, giving everything a golden glow.”
From the look of confusion in his eyes, her ramblings were making little sense. It was difficult to think, much less speak coherently, with her heart pounding and so much on the li
ne.
“I bought you one.”
She blinked.
“A snow globe,” he continued. “When you slipped off to the restroom, I purchased the one you admired and then hid it when we got home.”
He released his hold on her arms and began to pace.
“I bought it because I want to make you happy.” The words tumbled out of Brad’s mouth as if a chute holding them in had suddenly been flung open. “I want you to always be happy, Margot. I know winning a championship is important to you. That doesn’t mean we can’t be together. I can go with you on the circuit, be with you, support you as you chase your dream.”
She opened her mouth but he continued to talk as if determined to address any concerns before she raised them. “We can hire help to manage the ranch when we’re on the road. I understand making something like this work won’t be easy, but I’ve spent a good part of my life walking away when things got tough, because it didn’t matter enough. You matter. We’ll make it work because what we have together matters.”
Her tremulous smile must have been all the encouragement he needed because he grasped her hands like a drowning man who’d just spotted shore. “I love you, Margot. I can’t imagine my life without you. You have my vow that I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy.”
No regrets, she told herself.
“I love you, too, Brad.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I was on my way back to the arena to tell you just that.”
He closed his eyes tight and she swore she heard him murmur a prayer of thanks. Then those eyes flashed open and fixed on hers. Brad jerked her into his arms, kissing her soundly.
She was still reeling when he stepped back, dropped to one knee and pulled out a black jeweler’s case from his pocket. He flipped it open to reveal a large oval diamond that flashed brilliant sparks of color. “Margot Sullivan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Margot felt as if she was center ring, being awarded the grand prize. Her heart leapt with joy.
“Yes,” she said, then again more loudly to make sure he heard, “Yes. I’ll marry you, Brad. And I’ll love you forever.”
