“Lester thought ahead, guys,” Matthew said. “I’m afraid you won’t have time to order a book, now. But I noticed the ranch had promotional postcards made up, so I’ll sign one of those for each of you, including Lester, who can use his as a bookmark.”
The kids seemed reasonably happy with that compromise, although all of them kept eyeing Lester’s book, which he held onto as if he never intended to let it out of his sight.
Clay walked over and held out his hand. “Nice job.”
“Thanks.” Matthew accepted Clay’s warm handshake.
“Now all we need to do is accomplish the other task, and you can claim a hundred percent success.”
“Right.” Matthew wasn’t about to tell him that all factors considered, he was a long way from feeling like a success. But he’d concentrate on Lester’s good fortune and take solace from that.
Chapter Fifteen
As usual, Aurelia had her cookbooks spread out on the table in anticipation of Matthew’s arrival. But for the first time, she felt as if she might be wasting his time with this project. Until this afternoon, she hadn’t fully appreciated his talent.
Oh, sure, she’d read his book. She’d returned Sarah’s copy because her new one had come in the same box with Lester’s. Reading the book should have made her realize that she was sleeping with an international celebrity who had achieved fame because he was incredible at his job.
But the tone of the book was so humble that she hadn’t quite realized that. Watching him with Houdini, however, had brought it home to her in a very dramatic fashion. Matthew deserved his worldwide reputation because the man flat knew how to deal with horses.
More than that, he’d been born with wings. Galloping across the meadow on Houdini he’d become a free spirit, the man who traveled the globe and wrote bestselling books, the man who had no business hooking up with an earthbound creature like her.
He must have temporarily lost his mind when he asked her to travel with him. He had a dazzling career going, and he certainly didn’t need to drag along a budding cookbook author. If she hadn’t provided such outstanding sex, one of two things she felt extremely confident about, he would never have dreamed up such a plan.
She needed to let him back away from that idea without feeling a smidgen of obligation to her. Once he’d put some distance between himself and the hot sex they’d shared, he’d be relieved that he hadn’t talked her into going with him. It would have been a terrible mistake for both of them.
When his knock came at the back door, her heart quickened as it always did at the prospect of seeing Matthew. Closing the cookbooks and stacking them on the table, she walked through the laundry room to the back screen door. It wasn’t full dark yet, but the porch light had clicked on.
Matthew stood illuminated by the golden glow, his face shadowed by the brim of his Stetson. He seemed taller to her now, more imposing. This was the man who’d maintained control of a two-thousand-pound stallion as they’d raced together across the grasslands in a glorious blend of power and beauty.
Before this afternoon’s display of his expertise, she’d thought of him as a horse trainer, a cowboy not so different from the other hands working on the ranch. To be fair, he’d portrayed himself that way by hanging out at the bunkhouse, playing cards with the guys, and generally staying out of the limelight.
Not today. Maybe someone else could have made that ride on Houdini this afternoon, but Aurelia doubted it. The horse had tested Matthew, but the outcome had never been in doubt.
Matthew gave her a half-smile. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Sure. Sorry.” She opened the door and stepped back. “It wasn’t locked.”
“I know, but I always wait to be invited.” Taking off his hat, he walked through the door.
For the first time she noticed that he had to duck slightly to make it inside. “That’s because you have good manners. You—”
“Aurelia.” With a groan he pulled her into his arms and crushed her mouth against his. His kiss was desperate, demanding.
She’d meant to be more reserved tonight and give him a chance to pull away, but she was helpless before his unexpected onslaught. She kissed him back with equal hunger. Even if he wasn’t to be hers forever, she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want him more than she’d ever wanted any man.
Tossing his hat onto a dryer, he gripped her bottom in his large hands and lifted her up against the bulge in his jeans. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Carrying her like that, his mouth still covering hers, he strode out of the laundry room, through the kitchen, and into the bedroom, where they fell to the bed.
Clothes flew, a condom was located, and then he was inside her. She rose to meet each deep thrust, her frenzy matching his. When he was making love to her with such urgency, the issues between them faded, leaving only this wonder, this connection, this... man.
She came in a rush of emotion and pleasure that she’d only known with him. He followed soon after, and she knew he’d waited for her, because that was the kind of lover, the kind of generous person, he was.
He gulped for air and gazed down at her in the soft lamplight. Then he frowned and began kissing her cheeks. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “Please don’t cry. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it be okay.”
She hadn’t realized she was crying, but now that he was kissing away her tears, she felt the dampness on her face. “It’s not... because I’m sad.”
“Then why?”
“I’m just so grateful for you, Matthew.” Her voice was husky with tears. “So very grateful that we had this time together.”
His frown deepened. “I wish you wouldn’t talk as if we’re never going to see each other again.”
In fact, she had decided that would be for the best. She loved him, and that love ran so deep that a few days here and there over the course of a year would give her more pain than joy. She’d want more, and she couldn’t have more.
“Aurelia, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She pulled his head down for a quick kiss. “Go take care of the condom while I shuffle the cards.”
“We can’t play strip poker. We’ve already stripped.”
“Then maybe we can make up another game.”
“Okay.” He didn’t sound as if he bought into her attempt to derail the conversation. “Be right back.”
When he walked into the bathroom, she sat up, noticed that the room looked as if a bomb had gone off, and decided not to do anything about it. The cards were still sitting on the nightstand, so she picked them up and started shuffling.
“You weren’t kidding.” He climbed back into bed.
“Nope. We can play for... I know. Sexual positions. Whoever wins gets to choose.” She placed the deck on the bed between them. “Cut the cards.”
“No.” He picked up the deck and set it behind him on the other nightstand. “I can’t concentrate on a silly card game when what you said is still ringing in my ears. You’re planning to end everything when the week’s over, aren’t you?”
She met his gaze. “I didn’t say that.” And she hadn’t intended to tell him until the last day, but her guard had been down a moment ago. He was smart enough to pick up on the implication of her “I’m grateful for what we’ve had” statement. She still hoped to bluff her way out of it, though.
“Aurelia, I’m a native English speaker, and a writer, too. Being grateful for what we’ve had, past tense, tells me that you don’t see any future tense coming into the picture. Even if you won’t go along with what I suggested this morning, I thought we’d agreed to keep up with each other through our blogs so I could stop by and see you now and then.”
She could evade the truth, but she couldn’t tell him an outright lie. “I’ve decided that won’t work for me.”
His voice had taken on a definite edge. “Why not?”
The coward in her wanted to glance away while she delivered the next line, but she made herself look into
his blue eyes. “Because after this banquet we’ve enjoyed together, grabbing a quick snack a few times a year would be very unsatisfying for me. I’d rather...” She couldn’t figure out what she’d rather do if she couldn’t have him, and that was part of the problem.
“You’d rather starve? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I won’t starve. You’re being melodramatic.”
“You’re the one who started this food analogy. I’m just carrying it to its logical conclusion. And maybe you won’t starve, but I’m not so sure about me.”
She studied him, her heart full of love and admiration for all he was and all he would yet become. “You won’t starve, Matthew. You’re an incredible man who will flourish in any situation. I knew you were amazing, but after today’s ride, I appreciate exactly how amazing.”
He stared at her. “I was just doing my job. Nothing special.”
“Oh, yes, it was special. Is special. I’m honored that I was part of your life for a little while.”
“For God’s sake. Would you stop talking like that? You’re as talented in your field as I am in mine. And as for flourishing wherever you go, look at what you’ve done with this Last Chance gig.”
“That was all you. You saved the day on that, too.”
“Bull! When I arrived, you’d already won everyone’s heart. They just weren’t on board with the food. When you realized that, you adapted immediately. Also, unless I’m mistaken, you weren’t wracked by homesickness while you were here.”
“No.” She’d been a little surprised by that. “But I’ve called my folks a few times, and texted a few friends, so it’s not like I’ve abandoned my life in Nebraska.”
“Keeping in touch is normal and to be expected, especially if you’ve never left the state before. But face it, Aurelia, you’ve bloomed where you were planted, even though you didn’t know a single soul besides your aunt before you got here.”
She shrugged, convinced he was making a mountain out of a molehill. “It’s a friendly place.”
“The whole damned world is a friendly place! You would be the toast of Europe with your cooking skills, your sense of adventure, and your happy smile.”
“I don’t have a sense of adventure. Stop assigning me qualities you want me to have because it suits your purposes.” And maybe this argument was just the one they needed to have, so he would distance himself from her.
“Sorry, but you had a sense of adventure long before I ever came on the scene. That’s the only explanation for having the cojones to serve brochettes de rognons foie, et lardons to a bunch of cowhands. You are fearless, woman. Deny it all you want, but I know the truth.”
“That’s just food. It’s not the same as flying all over creation.”
“Well, it springs from the same basic desire for variety in your daily life, but I’ll add another observation, since I’m on a roll analyzing your character.”
She waved a hand at him. “Carry on. You don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about, but don’t let that stop you.” And the more he raved, the more she’d dig in her heels, and that should finally send him packing. It was the best thing for both of them, even if she felt as if she were performing open heart surgery on herself without anesthetic.
“I don’t intend to stop talking, because I have to get this off my chest. You are without a doubt the most stubborn woman I’ve ever come across.”
She folded her arms. “I prefer to say that I know myself a lot better than you know me.”
“Why won’t you even consider my idea? Hell, if you’re half as good at banking as you are at preparing food, they’d be happy to rehire you if the traveling blog doesn’t work out.”
“Matthew, you are a traveling kind of person. It’s who you are. I am a stay-at-home kind of person. It’s—”
“Damn it, how do you know? You’ve never given the other kind of life a chance! Open up your eyes. It would be a perfect fit for you.”
“No, it would be a perfect fit for you, or at least you imagine it would be, once you got me trained like you train a horse. But I’m not a horse, Matthew. You’re wonderful at getting them to do what you want them to do, but those techniques won’t work on me.”
“I’m not trying to — oh, forget it.” He climbed out of bed and began searching for his clothes. “You’ve made up your mind that it won’t work, and the more I try to convince you that it will, the harder you’ll argue. God, you’re stubborn.”
She sensed the crack opening up in her heart. It went right down the middle and soon she’d begin to feel the excruciating pain of losing him. Except she’d never really had him.
She’d wanted him to give up the notion they could be a traveling couple, and judging from the way he was stomping around and gathering his things together, she’d succeeded. Someday he might be grateful to her for averting a disaster they’d both heartily regret. She’d never even been on a plane, let alone jetted around the world.
Right now, though, he was thoroughly pissed at her. He obviously wasn’t used to a lack of cooperation. Maybe anger was a better emotion to take away with him than sadness, anyway.
“I’ll stay in the bunkhouse tonight.” His tone was carefully controlled. “It’s possible I might be able to fly out tomorrow. I just have one more thing to accomplish with Houdini.”
“Semen collection?”
“Yep.” Duffle bag in hand, he paused at the bedroom door. “Listen, if you ever change your mind...”
“I won’t.”
“I know you won’t, but if a miracle happens and you should happen to rethink this, Sarah has my cell phone number.”
She didn’t reply. She was too busy memorizing how he looked standing there in the doorway so she’d have that picture to carry locked in her broken heart.
“Goodbye, Aurelia.”
She lifted a hand and gave him a little wave. Her throat had such a big lump in it she wouldn’t have been able to speak even if she’d wanted to, which she didn’t. Although she’d helped shove him out the door, she couldn’t bear to say goodbye.
It seemed as if everything conspired to help Matthew get the hell out of Dodge. Houdini performed like an experienced stud the next morning, which Clay credited to yesterday’s run through the meadow having worked off his bottled-up energy. Jack took Houdini on a short ride and pronounced him fit for training as a cutting horse.
Matthew’s work was done, and he had no wish to hang around. When he’d returned to the bunkhouse the night before, the card game had still been in progress. The cowhands had plied Matthew with beer in an attempt to lighten the mood when they realized he’d broken up with Aurelia.
The attempt had been a dismal failure, and now the guys probably felt sorry for him. He was afraid to ask if he’d called out Aurelia’s name in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he had.
Her rejection had carved a hunk out of him and he wasn’t sure how soon he’d be back to normal. Maybe never. He might always long for her touch, her laughter, and the lush feel of her body under his. He couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else.
Late that morning, he avoided having to go in for lunch by asking Jeb to drive him to the airport. Jeb did his best to make conversation during the trip, but Matthew had trouble holding up his end, so it was a mostly silent ride. Matthew had let everyone think he’d booked a flight, but it wasn’t true. His next job, at an estate outside London, didn’t start for two weeks, so he had time on his hands and nowhere in particular to go.
After Jeb dropped him at the airport in Jackson, he located a rental counter and reserved an SUV for a week. Might as well drive the two hundred miles or so to Billings and check on his parents’ gravesites. He hadn’t done that in a while, and the drive would allow him some thinking time.
In the back of his mind lurked another motivation for staying in the general area. A small flame of hope still burned. Before she left Wyoming, Aurelia might come to her senses and give him a shot. If she did, and his cell
phone rang, he didn’t want to be far away.
He arrived at the cemetery in the middle of the afternoon. Parking the SUV, he walked between the rows of markers set flush with the grass until he found the two he was looking for. The grass was manicured and the headstones clear of debris, so apparently the management was living up to its promise of perpetual care.
Matthew had thought of bringing flowers, but knew they’d die quickly in the heat. He stood silently gazing down at the two engraved markers. His memory of his mother was dim and consisted mostly of the pictures he still had of her. But his father’s image was clear.
The guy had done his level best to carry on after Matthew’s mother died, but he’d struggled. Chain smoking had been his crutch, and eventually it had killed him. Matthew had always wondered if his dad had secretly looked forward to the day he would end up here next to his wife.
Eloisa Ann Tredway, beloved wife of John Matthew Tredway, was etched into the granite on Matthew’s left, and the reverse, John Matthew Tredway, beloved husband of Eloisa Ann Tredway, was on the right.
Beloved. Matthew had never quite grasped the numbing heartache his father must have felt when Matthew’s mom died. And although leaving Aurelia was not even close to the same kind of tragedy, Matthew understood his dad’s grief a little better, now.
No wonder his dad hadn’t been able to provide a sense of home and security. His wife’s death had ended any dreams he’d had of those things. Matthew had learned early that he could survive without a warm family life and had eventually replaced any lingering needs with work and travel.
Until he’d met Aurelia, he’d never thought in terms of home and permanence for himself. Maybe a part of him had feared he’d end up blindsided like his father. He still couldn’t picture himself settling down in one spot, but he desperately wanted to settle down with one woman.
He understood that happiness was never guaranteed, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t reach for it, which meant reaching for Aurelia. Being with her felt like coming home after years of restless wandering. Whether she wanted to or not, she’d become his beloved.
The Way to a Cowboy's Heart Page 16
