by Jeannie Watt
“It’s what I do.”
“Where will you live?”
“Subletting the apartment of the person on leave.”
“Ah. So...everything is falling into place.”
“It is.”
“How do you feel about that?” He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. “About leaving?”
“I...we knew this day was coming.”
“Were you going to discuss this with me?”
“I was actually on my way over when you knocked.” He knew her well enough to tell that she was being honest. “This isn’t easy for me, Cole. You know it isn’t. But...this situation. We always knew it was temporary. Right?”
“It started that way.” He let out a breath, telling himself that this was the future they’d agreed upon. When Taylor got a job, she would move on. Embrace her old existence instead of the one she’d built here.
The phone buzzed in his pocket. Jancey’s ring. He held Taylor’s gaze as he answered. “Yeah?”
“Can you pick me up? My car just broke down. Halfway home. You can’t miss me.”
“Sure. See you in a few.”
He dumped his phone back in his pocket. “I have to get Jancey. We can...talk later if we need to.” Taylor nodded, as if she couldn’t find her voice, and then he headed to his truck. Not that many hours ago, she would have gone with him to get Jancey. Now...
Yeah. Definitely the queen mother of all bad days.
* * *
TAYLOR HAD EXPECTED Cole to come back to see her after he’d towed Jancey’s dead car home. He didn’t, which was killing her. She wanted to tell him how precious their time together had been.
To maybe suggest that it didn’t need to be over...maybe they could leave the door cracked?
She wanted to believe that was true.
But she didn’t.
Too many years of talk intervened—talk of independence and careers and making one’s own way. Talk of never settling for mediocre, and in her mother’s view compromise meant not living up to potential. Of settling for less and slowly dying inside.
Taylor let herself out of the bunkhouse and stood for a moment watching her grandfather’s house. Shadows moved past the curtains, and her heart squeezed. You aren’t meant to be here.
She’d grown to like the farm. The affection she felt for the place had kind of snuck up on her. Cole played a major part in that affection, but there was more to it than that. She’d begun to reclaim her grandmother’s garden—to see if she could change her black thumb into more of a greenish gray. She didn’t need prize vegetables, but she wouldn’t have minded seeing her seeds grow.
The door opened to the house and Cole stepped out onto the porch. She’d thought it was because he’d seen her saying goodbye to the place and was coming out to meet up with her, but the way his head came up when she started toward him told her no. He had not been about to seek her out.
Fine. She’d seek him out.
He came down the steps as she opened the gate and met her on the sidewalk.
“How’s Jancey?” she asked.
“Fine. The car needs a new battery.”
“How are you?”
“Almost bootless. Chucky ate one of my boots.” He glanced over at the barn, presenting her his profile. She saw his jaw muscles tighten before he looked back at her. “I’m sorry for not being more congratulatory about your job. I know it’s what you wanted. So—” he pushed his hands into his pockets “—congratulations.”
“I wish our circumstances were different.”
“Circumstances are what you make them.”
Taylor tilted her head, wondering if she’d imagined the note of censure in his voice. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Sometimes it’s worth compromising instead of following a carved-in-stone plan.”
“You have a crop in the ground. A ranch to watch over. A sister who needs you.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re the one who would have the hardest time changing lifestyles if we ever...” She made a gesture instead of finishing her sentence. “I’m the one who’d have to give up everything.”
“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”
“Given what we’re working with, what else can it be? You saw how much luck I had getting a career off the ground here in Montana.”
“You don’t want to try?”
She pulled in a breath. “I’m afraid of embarking on something that has no hope of succeeding.”
His expression, which had already bordered on cool, totally shuttered. “That’s answer enough for me.”
She felt a stab of desperation as he took a backward step. She’d hoped—really hoped—for one more night together.
It wasn’t going to happen, and she felt as if a small part of her had just curled up and died.
“I’d like to part friends.”
He nodded, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets as if he couldn’t handle touching her now. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning. I was going to ask Jancey to take care of Max until I get settled. I start work the day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll ask her.”
“Thanks, Cole.” Since she didn’t know what else to do, she held out her hand. He shook his head. “Don’t do that to me, Taylor.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she said softly.
“Just say goodbye and leave it at that.”
This was a situation she’d walked into willingly, and she couldn’t cry foul now that it hurt to get herself back out of it. But damned if she was going to say goodbye and leave it at that. She stepped closer and took his face in her hands, rose up on her toes and kissed him.
“Goodbye, Cole. I will miss you.”
She pulled in a shaky breath and walked back to the bunkhouse, wishing that he would follow her.
Knowing that he would not.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ONE WEEK LATER, Taylor was fully immersed in her element, living and breathing finance. She was part of a team, and, being the newbie temp, far from taking the lead as she’d done before. She had to build a reputation for being efficient, cooperative and creative, while at the same time not coming off as a threat to anyone else. What had been second nature to her now required thought. She was gun-shy, aware that going above and beyond didn’t guarantee anything. In fact, some of the people who had hung back were still employed by Stratford.
Every company was different, though. They had their cultures and hierarchies and personalities to work around.
But she was working and back in her city.
And lonely as hell.
She didn’t text or call Cole. It was for the best. They truly were star-crossed lovers and would continue to be so, unless one of them gave up their professional life to be near the other...and thereby gave up their independence.
Her mother had, of course, assumed that Taylor was as happy about leaving the farm as she had been. “This was a good experience, honey. Now you’ll know for sure what you don’t want if you happen to run into a good-looking country guy.” Which was exactly what had happened with Cecilia and Taylor’s father. “Like that’s going to happen,” Taylor murmured, hoping her mother missed the irony in her tone.
“Good-looking only goes so far when you are tiptoeing around cow poop. I loved your father, but...” Cecilia made a shuddering noise.
Since her grandfather never had cows, that was an exaggeration, but Taylor understood what she was getting at. And she also understood that she was different from her mom. She’d hated living in the bunkhouse, but she missed the farm.
Or did she just miss Cole?
Her heart still hurt when she thought about him, but she told herself it had been only a week. Then two week
s. Then three.
She threw herself into her work, had Carolyn and her guy over for budget dinners instead of going out every week. She was socking away all the money she possibly could. It was sobering to realize that she could have saved more being a loan officer and renting an apartment in the Eagle Valley than she could subletting and working for a decent salary here.
“You’re a city girl,” Carolyn told her when she explained that to her friend. “You pay more, but you get more. Can you walk down to the ocean or take a ferry or club hop in Montana? I don’t think so. And your dating life had to be limited.”
“It only takes one,” Taylor said, just as Carolyn’s wineglass touched her lips.
“You’ve never said anything like that before.” She abruptly set down her glass. “You met someone.”
“I did.”
Carolyn gave her a frowning once-over. “You’re still thinking about him.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, damn, girl. It’s about time.”
Taylor shook her head. “Our lifestyles and occupations are not compatible.”
Carolyn took a healthy drink of wine, wiping her lips with the back of her fingers. “So you work something out.”
“And one of us becomes resentful, and the beautiful thing becomes a source of bitterness.”
Now Carolyn was staring at her as if she’d just met her. “Yeah. You’re right. That will totally happen if one of you gives up something that they don’t want to give up. But there is that thing called compromise.”
Taylor pushed her hair back with both hands as her temples began to throb. That word again.
“Are you glad to be back in the city?”
“Totally.” It was the life she knew and loved. The place she’d been raised. It was comfortable and safe and predictable, if one didn’t count the possibility of layoffs. Plus the food was great.
“Were there good parts about Montana? I mean other than the guy who’s driving you nuts.”
Taylor sipped her wine thoughtfully, basically trying to lie to herself so that she could say no as if she meant it. “I enjoyed working outside. A whole lot more than I thought I would.”
“Huh.”
“I hated it at first,” she said as if that was a viable defense.
“But not anymore?”
Taylor frowned. She hadn’t expected this conversation to be all about her, but now that Carolyn was primed, there would be no stopping her. “I wouldn’t work outside for a living.”
“What could you do there inside for a living?”
As if she hadn’t asked herself that at least once a day lately—in a hypothetical sense, of course.
“Well,” Taylor said ironically, “I think the fact that I looked for work there for over two months and couldn’t land a job kind of answers that question.”
“Consult. Do books. Get your CPA license.” Carolyn placed her palm flat on the leather sofa with a soft smack. “Teach school.”
Taylor made a face at her. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Carolyn leaned back against the sofa, stretching her arm out along the back. “I am not. But your job is temporary and you need a backup plan.”
“Before I end up on the farm again?” The scary thing was that she couldn’t go back to the farm. Not after the way she’d left. Her stomach started tightening into a sick knot.
“Taylor?” She glanced up at her friend. “You’ve changed.”
“I was gone for two and a half months.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not saying it was the guy. Maybe it was living out of the city. Maybe it was Montana.”
Taylor leaned her head back to study the ceiling.
No. It was mostly the guy.
Although Montana had played a part...and in a way, she missed living there. Missed her life on the farm.
Her mother would have a cow if she knew.
* * *
COLE PUT UP his meadow hay four weeks after Taylor left, and he couldn’t help but reflect that he’d have enjoyed it more if she’d been there to swath. Part of him wanted to contact her and ask how she was doing in her new job—like friends would do. More than once he’d picked up the phone, only to set it back down again. It was crazy to reopen a semihealed wound.
They weren’t friends. Not yet. Not when he still felt so raw about her departure.
Karl had called a couple of times, almost as if he was checking on Cole, which led Cole to suspect that his relationship with Taylor hadn’t stayed a secret. Karl wasn’t returning from Dillon anytime soon, but Elise had started dating and Cole had a feeling that Karl would be back within the year. He’d have to move out of the house, find a place to live. He could live in the bunkhouse, but he didn’t particularly want to kick around in the place where he and Taylor had shared so much.
He’d prefer to live on his ranch.
Instead, he’d moved his horses to Karl’s place, allowing Miranda another victory. It was killing him.
He hated the feeling of inertia that permeated his life. He was doing well on the farm, but he missed Taylor, and the situation with his ranch was beyond his control. For the moment. He would come up with something.
He’d just washed off the field dust when his cell phone rang. Jancey. She was coming home from college on the weekends and filling in at the feed store. Unbeknownst to Miranda, she’d done Jancey a huge favor by sabotaging the job with Magnus Distribution. His sister loved the feed store. “Just wanted you to know I’m heading out. I should be there in an hour.”
“Thanks, kid. See you then.”
He hung up and headed for the shower. Instead of lounging around in his sweats, crunching numbers and trying to figure out how to get his ranch away from Miranda, he’d grill a steak for his sister and maybe whip some instant mashed potatoes. He was spending too much time plotting against the bitch. It really was starting to wear.
Taylor had told him to sell the ranch.
The thought killed him.
But trying to figure out a way to hold on to it and regain control was almost as brutal. He’d crossed Miranda, and she was going to make him pay. And pay. Any thoughts of a peaceful settlement had gone out the window when she’d tried to buy Jancey’s part of the property without discussing the matter with him. She’d actually tried to pit sister against brother, which was sick, especially when they were the only members left of their immediate family.
But if he sold, after he got over the anguish of having let Miranda win once and for all...of having lost the family ranch to the woman who’d tried to ruin both him and Jancey...he could start fresh.
A fresh start sounded good. Really good.
Could he let go? Did letting Miranda win make him a coward?
The working-ranch part of the vacation packages was becoming more and more popular. The accountant’s report, which put Miranda in the clear as far as her fiscal honesty went—damn it all—supported that. If he sold—to anyone but her, because there was no way he was doing that—she’d lose those packages, because she lost access to the property if it sold. There was no transfer of usage.
Cole stopped drying off and studied his reflection, a thoughtful frown drawing his eyebrows together. He lost. She lost.
When Jancey came home that evening, he broached the subject. “What if we sold the ranch?”
“To Miranda? No way.” She picked up her steak knife and started sawing on the T-bone.
“Not to Miranda.”
She put down the knife. “Then to who?”
“Anyone. Just to keep it out of Miranda’s hands, and to keep her from having use of the property.”
Jancey’s mouth opened. Closed again. Then she shook her head. “I don’t want to sell.”
“It would hurt Miranda’s pocketbook.”
�
�For a while.” She set down her fork and gave Cole a pleading look. “The land is all we have that’s from our family. It’s our heritage.”
“Which makes us miserable.”
“No. She makes us miserable.” She cocked her head at him. “Is this so that you can go after Taylor?”
“Go after?”
“She’s not coming back.” Before Cole could reply, Jancey went on. “She says it’s important to be independent. Then you can control your life.”
“Which is how she ended up here on the farm, living in a ramshackle building.”
Jancey nodded. “Good point.”
“I care for Taylor,” he said simply. It was ridiculous to pretend he didn’t. Not when he had this many sleepless nights under his belt.
“But not enough to go after her?”
“I think I have to wait until she’s ready to find a middle ground.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Jancey asked softly.
“That’s the million-dollar question.”
And he was half-afraid of the answer. Had the city reclaimed her? Was she once again working megahour weeks and not taking care of herself? Worse yet, had she met a guy? A city guy? One she had a lot in common with?
Those were the questions that kept him up at night. The questions that had him very, very close to giving up his harvest and heading to Seattle to see if he could claim what he knew in his soul was his.
* * *
IT WAS FUNNY how the life Taylor had so carefully crafted prior to getting laid off from Stratford now felt oddly empty. The aftermath of Cole.
She loved Seattle, was glad to be back...but it didn’t feel the same. And she almost felt angry about it—as if she’d made a pact with herself, then fallen short of fulfilling it. She was back. She was supposed to love it. She wasn’t supposed to wonder if Cole had turned the bunkhouse into a grain bin as he’d once threatened. Or if the rabbits under the floorboards had litters of little rabbits. Or if Chucky had eaten Cole’s other boot.
She shouldn’t be wondering how Jancey was enjoying college. Or missing the girl as much as she did.
Life went on.
And on.
