“I’m talking to her tonight.”
“You two are plain stubborn, boy, you know that? I don’t know what’s eatin’ you up inside, but whatever it is, you won’t hurt her without hearing an earful from me.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her either, Robert, but I already have. The problems are mostly my fault. It’s true, I have things to work through she doesn’t know about. But she can’t forgive me for keeping a secret. She looks on it as one big lie. I can’t make her have faith in me.”
“You can’t give her a chance to develop it if you run away neither.”
“It was running away to come here. Facing what I ran from—that’s the best favor I can do for Jill. She has big dreams, Robert. She deserves to fulfill them.”
There was another silence before Robert heaved a sigh. “When?”
“In the morning.”
“When are you planning to tell everyone else?”
“Jill’s the only one I need to talk to.”
“You better damn well do it. Do you understand?”
Chase nodded miserably.
Chapter Twenty-Six
THE BACKYARD LIGHTS were off at the Carpenter house, and night shadows painted the flagstone path in hues of charcoal and blue. Chase followed Jill toward the big willows, their slender leaves luminescent beneath a waxing moon. Crickets sang up a ruckus, and neon flashes flitted across the patio. Chase stared at the show, wishing he were young again and had nothing harder to face than chasing down a Mason jar’s worth of fireflies.
“Robert’s okay?” he asked when they reached the gazebo.
“Fine. One of the nurses actually got a thank-you out of him tonight.”
“He’ll come around.”
“I think so.”
Their stilted words only made Chase hurt worse for what he was about to do. Bubbling water drew his eyes to a pool planted all around with petunias and moss roses. The largest willow tree had a gnarled trunk that jutted outward like the bent knee of a royal servant. Its branches cascaded to grass level as if it doffed its hat to welcome a queen. Chase recalled a kiss beside this tree, many weeks before, from a girl he didn’t want. Now the girl he did want stood beside him, but there would be no kiss.
He followed her to a white wrought-iron ice cream table and chairs. Her hair swung in a fall of perfect honey-colored silk except for one crimp line at neck level where a band had held it back all day. He longed to feather it through his fingers, knowing exactly what it would feel like, and sadness overwhelmed him.
“You have something to tell me?” she asked quietly.
He nodded. “I’ve talked to Brody. The clinic needs help. I have to go to Memphis.”
“You’re leaving?” She straightened in shock.
“Sometime this week. I needed to make sure you can handle Angel and the chores at Robert’s. I’m sorry to do that.”
“Brody. I suppose he’s a doctor, too?” A now-familiar tinge of annoyance filtered into her voice.
“My partner. He’s our trauma surgeon.”
“Are there more medical people in your family? Your grandfather, perhaps?”
“No. Brody and I are the only black sheep.”
“Why? Why did you come here?”
“I was running away. I told you about the little girl who was killed by a gang member. What I didn’t tell you is that it happened on the steps of our clinic and the girl was a nine-year-old patient of mine. I … couldn’t handle the trauma.” The words came hard. He’d never told the story aloud. “But it’s time for me to face it.”
It happened. Just as he’d predicted it would. Her eyes filled with tears. Her face softened.
“Oh, Chase. Why didn’t you just say so?”
The tender touch that followed was like a shot of great bourbon on the rocks—cold and anesthetizing, but he removed her fingers from his cheek.
“No. No sympathy. Not now,” he said, his voice gruff, his stomach aching. “I only selfishly want your forgiveness for leaving you in the lurch. I’m sorry.”
Her irises glistened in pale light that should have been romantic, not heartrending. She clearly didn’t understand why he wouldn’t accept the apology she’d been waiting to give.
“I—” She stopped as if thinking, then ran the back of her hand beneath her nose and sniffed. “The girls will be disappointed. The big horse show at David’s is next weekend, and Becky was going to show off her jumping. Jamie will be our ribbon girl.”
“I’m sorry I’ll miss it.” Regret stung his eyes, and he stood swiftly.
“You’ll say good-bye?” she asked.
His heart lay like a broken lump in his chest as he nodded. He reached for her hand. “C’mon. I’ve got some chores to finish.”
When they reached the back door he lingered, holding fast to her hand. He almost gave in—almost accepted her understanding and asked to start over.
He wanted trust. Not sympathy.
He kissed her slowly and, without a doubt, more chastely than any time before, but his pulse throbbed, and his throat constricted.
“Drive home carefully.”
“Good-bye, honey. Sleep tight.”
“ROBERT? ROBERT DO you know where Chase is? Has he been here?”
Jill didn’t even give the poor man a civil greeting when she blew into his room at lunch the next day. She’d sensed something was wrong from the moment Chase had arrived the night before. She’d never seen his eyes as void of animation or heard his voice as lifeless.
Robert lay flat as if the vital force had been sucked from him. Panic rose in Jill’s chest.
“What do mean, ‘Where is he?’ ” Robert asked, his eyes closed. “The boy talked to you, didn’t he?”
“Yes, last night. He told me he was going back to Memphis sometime this week. Did he tell you something different?”
“I’d murder him if I saw him,” Robert muttered. “I didn’t think he’d take the coward’s way out. He’s gone, girlie. He left today.”
“Today?” Air left her lungs in a rush.
“He was by here about eight.”
Good-bye, honey.
She’d heard. Her heart had chosen not to believe.
Robert roused himself and reached clumsily to touch her cheek. “I’m sorry, Jill.”
“He’ll be back. Robert? He’ll come back.”
Robert closed his eyes again. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
AN HOUR LATER, David’s astute green eyes drilled into Jill’s. She hadn’t been in the barn thirty seconds and already she knew no plastic smile existed that was strong enough to hide the pain now clawing through her shock.
“Here now, you look a bit green ’round the gills,” he said. “Everything’s all right?”
“Fine. Crappy day.”
He sharpened his gaze. She’d had a crush on David once upon a time. He certainly was worthy of at least a good drool, with his strong nose, classic cheekbones, and wavy, sable hair. Six years her senior, he’d been the epitome of her ideal man—he loved horses, he had a sexy accent, a great body. But, in reality, he’d never been more than a loving friend.
“You’ve always been a bloody bad liar.” He grasped her shoulders with strong hands, and she crumbled. “Aw, there, love.”
He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her tightly, and he said nothing until she spent her tears. Although he wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable, the crying jag mortified her.
“I’m sorry.” She wiped her nose childishly with her hand.
“What’s all this?” A new voice commanded her attention, and Colin strode down the aisle. “Bit of hanky-panky for the world to see, is it?” He laughed as if he’d just told the greatest joke.
“Aw, right. That’s what it is, Da’,” David replied irritably. “Don’t be daft. Look close and you’ll see we’ve got tears not lust.”
“Jill?” Colin’s tone demanded she look at him. “I’m sorry, what’s wrong?”
“Let’s go to the lounge,” David said.
“N
o, no, it’s all right,” Jill promised. “I’m … sad. Hurt. Chase is gone.”
“Gone where?” David asked carefully.
“Memphis.”
Neither man spoke for a long, thoughtful silence.
“He left for good?” David asked at last.
“I think so.”
“Oh, love, I’m very sorry. I like Chase. He’s a good man.”
“Bollocks that. I’d say quite the opposite.” Colin boomed his rebuttal as if he were in a presidential debate. “Good men don’t walk away without a word.”
Jill forced down her resentment at Colin’s edict, telling herself he was only trying to stick up for her.
“Do you know why he left?” David ignored his father.
She nodded miserably and managed a journalistically unemotional recitation of the past weeks’ events.
“A doctor, you say?” Colin seemed appropriately impressed until he shook his head. “Well, look here, my girl. You’re better off. You’ve got more time to work now, you see. And you can set your sights on those Olympic rings.” He nodded emphatically, perfectly serious, but for the first time, Jill’s pulse didn’t leap at the thought.
“Da’, you aren’t helping. Haven’t you got a lesson waiting?”
“Always a lesson waiting,” he agreed. “Jill, love, don’t waste time pining—that’s my advice. We’ll be leaving in a month, and you’ll have nothing tying you down. In my opinion, that lad seems a bit of a tosser in hindsight. A real man would stay and fight if he truly wanted you.”
Well, Jill’s mood sank further as Colin paced briskly away, he had a point.
David hugged her again. “Ignore him. That’s my father in a nutshell. ‘Stop whining. Pull up your knicks and focus.’ I know how you feel about Chase—it was pretty hard to miss.”
“Thank you, that helps.” She rubbed the middle of her forehead, where a dull throbbing pressed inward and spread toward both temples. “Or maybe it doesn’t. I don’t really know what happened.”
“I don’t know his story,” he said. “Still, as a guy, I have to ask, could he have believed there was no point in staying?”
“Of course there was a point! I simply wanted an explanation.”
David hesitated. “You know,” he said at last. “We males tend to get a rum go in women’s books. Strong, self-assured lot that we’re supposed to be, it isn’t attractive to have one of us sort of come apart at the seams. Not alpha or whatever women call it. But it happens. Or so I’ve heard.” Jill granted him a smile in spite of herself. “Perhaps Chase didn’t know if you’d understand him coming apart.”
“That makes no sense. I fell in love with him; he could have told me anything.”
“He told you he’s a doctor, and here we are.”
“He didn’t tell me.” Jill fumed. “I found out. There’s a difference, and you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m not taking his side. Just—men do not necessarily have some God-given ability to buck up in every single situation. We’ll hole up to protect ourselves—even if we don’t admit that’s what we’re doing.” He grasped Jill’s forearms, folded defensively across her chest. “I know you still love him. But if he doesn’t know it, running may have been simple self-defense.”
Jill uncrossed her arms. “You’re a good and honest friend, David. I don’t know if you’re right, but telling you helped.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “But maybe telling Chase would help more.”
ANY WISDOM IN David’s theory grew muddled over the next week as Jill slogged through the bustle leading up to Bridge Creek’s big summer horse trials. She helped ready the farm for the influx of a hundred competitors. She, Michael, and Becky made a success of Jamie’s second lesson, and Becky took two lessons in preparation for her show debut. Jill took two lessons herself, letting Colin have at her with more nitpicking than usual. Every distraction served to take away her melancholy for a few random hours, but none of it put a real dent in the love and resentment that warred within her, creating a tangled knot of pain she couldn’t unravel or ignore.
Worse, Chase had spoiled her with his special brand of strength—the kind she’d never thought she’d need from anyone—and there was nobody else to turn to. David had said his piece. Colin didn’t know the meaning of the word “sympathy.” Ben barely knew Chase—Jill had made certain of that by avoiding her boss as much as possible all summer. In fact, she still had no idea how to tell Ben about her tangled mess of a life—especially the teensy little fact that she might leave vet school. That would devastate him. She couldn’t do it.
As for Robert, her new old friend lost a little more spit and sassiness every day. His physical health improved, but he spoke less about returning to the farm and submitted with increasing docility to the ministrations of the nursing home staff. Jill dreaded the thought of reminding him she’d be leaving, too, come September. He’d invested foolishly in her and Chase. She worried that telling him they were both throwing the gift of his friendship in his face might kill him.
So out of loyalty to Robert, and although Chase’s ghost inhabited every corner of the farm, Jill stayed there nights. Hiding away wasn’t normal. She’d always gotten her strength from people. But now she drew it from the animals. Angel stuck to her like gray to a rain cloud. Tatters clowned. Gypsy and Belle made great listeners, and she often ate supper in Robert’s barn—talking over the day with the draft horses like a certifiable kook.
The truth was, the thought of leaving the horses and the old farm broke her heart, and the reality of a life as Colin’s working student and protégée was finally hitting home. She would have to get used to the sixteen-hour-a day life of an athlete in training, and despite dreaming of it for twelve years, the actual prospect was dead lonely.
She resented not having a clear-cut path. Other people seemed to have better handles on her dreams than she did. David. Ben. Colin. Her family. They all knew what was best for her. Chase had been the only one never to voice an opinion on her choices. She was perfectly capable of making her own plans, he’d said. Ironically, he was the one she’d nearly been ready to follow to the ends of the world—without reservation.
But he’d duped her with a person that hadn’t existed, and when life got tough, he’d left. Hadn’t she learned anything from the other man who’d done that—to her mother. To her sister. To her. Love didn’t equal truth. Kindness didn’t equal commitment. Lies hid selfishness.
“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, two, one! Have a great ride!”
The cross-country judge called out her instructions, and Becky kicked Roy to a trot out of the three-sided start gate. Her helmet completely hid her cropped hair, and the safety vest she’d borrowed from Jill was a bright blue. With a look of determination Jill had never seen, she set out across the open field toward the first of twelve cross-country jumps.
“Go Becky!” Jamie, pounding an arm of her chair with one fist and pumping the air with the other, urged her sister like a battle cry. Michael placed his thumb and forefinger between his lips and let loose a piercing whistle.
Anita, eyes huge behind her glasses, watched her daughter approach the first jump obstacle—a log barely a foot in diameter, lying on the ground with a brightly filled flowerpot at each end—in silence. Jill’s knees went watery. She couldn’t have been more nervous had she been the girl’s mother. She released her breath when Becky hopped Roy over the log.
“Is that her?”
Dee jogged up, slightly out of breath, and Jill did a double take. Except for a brief thank-you in passing, she hadn’t spoken to Dee since their ill-fated meeting in the therapy room. She shook off her surprise, too nervous for Becky to think about residual bad blood with her sister.
“Yeah, it is. Tell me why I’m nervous as if she were skydiving with no parachute.”
Dee actually laughed. “Because it feels like your training is on the line. Don’t worry—you taught her well. You teach all your students well.”
At that Jill couldn’t help
tearing her eyes from Becky’s ride once more. The who-are-you-and-what-did-you-do-with-my-sister begged to be let loose from her tongue, but she swallowed it. Tugging on Dee’s arm, she took them several steps from the Barnes family, who were mesmerized anyway. “I’ve never had a student like her,” she whispered. “I’ve been ready countless times to go to prison for murdering her, and now I want her to succeed so badly it hurts. If she could finish this, I know her confidence would go sky-high, but what was I thinking? She’s had, like, three jumping lessons.”
“Bah, it’s the starter division—she can hang on over the little jumps.”
Dee wore her breeches and paddock boots like a Stella McCartney model, but nothing else of the sister Jill knew was recognizable. From where they stood they could see across the fields to nearly all of Becky’s jumps. Only two were off behind a grove of trees. Roy carried his rider safely over seven more jumps and then Becky disappeared for the two jumps on her own. Across from her, Jill saw Anita reach for Michael’s hand. Her knuckles stood out in anxious relief.
“How are Jamie’s lessons going?” Dee folded her arms on the fence in front of them.
“Really great. The second one was last week. She’s strong and determined.”
“I’m glad.” Dee nodded, then squinted. “What about you? Has he called? Or anything?”
Jill’s breath caught at the shock of the question—and at the shock of her sister asking it. She bit her lip and shook her head. “I didn’t expect him to.”
“I thought maybe he’d let you know he was all right.”
“He barely told me he was leaving. Why would he tell me where he was?”
“It’s what guys who love you do.” She held up her hand the instant Jill began a protest. “Yes, he does love you. I know because he told me so.”
Images from the lake crashed through Jill’s memory. She’d pushed them aside along with as many memories as she’d been able to, but now his “I love you” filled her mind. Filled her eyes with tears. She detested all these stupid tears.
Dee laughed softly and continued. “I had an immediate crush on Chase, I’d have been drummed from the Women Who Breathe Club if I hadn’t. But I knew from the start he was perfect for you.”
Rescued by a Stranger Page 30
