by Seton, Cora
He hoped. Because if she left Montana to travel the world he didn't know what he would do. All his plans depended on her marrying him. Besides, he didn't think world travel was the answer for her, either. A few years ago when she'd started hanging around the ranch again, she'd been happier than he'd seen her in years. Then she'd quit coming. These days she looked so pale and drawn he knew she was miserable. She was doing a good job keeping that fake smile plastered on her face anytime Ethan or Autumn or one of the guests wandered by, but her eyes gave her away. Maybe a trip around the world would bring the bounce back to her step, but he doubted it. Something was really wrong with Claire and his gut told him she needed to come home – to the ranch, to her family – to her horses, or she might get to a place where she couldn’t be healed.
“Deal,” he said aloud and her eyebrows shot up.
“Really? You think you can handle six whole weeks without flirting with or touching a woman?” Her playful tone was at odds with the coldness in her eyes, and for one second Jamie thought he was getting close to the truth behind the mystery of her defeated expression. Some man had hurt her – bad. Ledstrom? The thought made him clench his fists.
“Easy,” he forced himself to say. Well, not really, but hell – he should be able to survive it. Most guys did, right?
She laughed, a sound too bitter to suit him. “Well, this I gotta see. Okay, I’m in, too.” She put out a hand and he shook it, reveling in touching her. He pulled her in and stole a kiss, not surprised when she pushed him away roughly.
“See – you can’t even last a minute.”
“Our bet hasn’t started yet.”
“When does it start?”
“Tomorrow. And you have to keep that ring on until the bet's done.”
She pulled her hand back and wiped it on her dress, then tugged at the ring he'd put on her finger. He hadn't meant it to be so small she couldn't get it off, but he liked seeing it there. Liked that she was stuck with it. “And if I lose?” she asked.
“If you lose, that ring stays on your finger forever, and we get married on Labor Day. I happen to know the lawn will be free that day.” He waved a hand to encompass the wedding festivities in front of them.
"This is ridiculous."
He sat back and gazed at her. "Are you afraid I’m capable of not flirting for six weeks or are you afraid you actually want to marry me?”
“Neither.”
He crossed his arms. “If it’s neither, then you shouldn't be worried about the bet.”
“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Her sharp face had grown even paler.
“Yeah, but I’m a pain in the ass who’s completely in control of my libido. Ah, you didn’t think I knew fancy words like that, did you? I’m a surprising guy.” He grinned again, and watched her fight her reaction to it. Fury, desire, and for one split second, anguish. Then she forced her face into its familiar pleasant expression.
“Your libido is in no way under control,” she said. “You’ll lose before we even hit the trail with those greenhorns, and I’ll laugh myself all the way back to Billings and onto my round-the-world tour. And even if you don’t, nothing can convince me to marry you.”
Jamie smiled as she walked away. He might be facing the toughest six weeks of his life, but, oh, the reward was going to be sweet.
CHAPTER THREE
She was losing her mind.
How else to explain the seesaw of emotions she’d felt during this endless day? Happiness for Ethan mixed with the ache that came from knowing no man had ever loved her the way he loved Autumn. Fury at Rob's stupid trick. Sadness that her parents weren’t here on the most important day of their son’s life. Dread of her own future.
All mixed up with the swirl of lust and anger Jamie's fake proposal and bet stirred up within her. Libido was certainly the word for the day. She didn’t know if it was Ethan and Autumn’s tangible love for each other, the romance of the wedding, or Jamie's talk about getting married but she wanted to feel his hands on her body, and she more than anyone knew that desire led to nothing but heartbreak.
Although she tried to put some distance between them, Jamie sat next to her at the head table when the real dinner started, and took advantage of the situation by brushing her arm, bumping her shoulder and re-filling her champagne glass at every opportunity. When she confronted him angrily, he smiled his slow smile and reminded her that their bet didn’t start until the next day. As more and more people stopped by to offer their congratulations, Claire realized how hard it was going to be to undo this farce.
Thank God she already planned to travel for at least a year. Maybe by the time she came back, gossip would have died down.
As dusk set in, the Cruz lawn was lit by fairy lights and the band began to throw in some slow songs among all the popular dance tunes. When Jamie appeared by her side again and pulled her to the dance floor, Claire threw caution to the wind and actually let him draw her in close. After all, everyone thought they were engaged.
She scanned the crowd, noting Rob dancing with Autumn's friend, Becka, and Cab Johnson squiring Rose Bellingham around the floor.
“See, this isn’t so bad,” Jamie said.
She made a face. “It is now that you’re talking.” But he was right; it felt good to be in his arms. Too damn good.
“You know you belong here.”
On the Cruz ranch or in his embrace? “Never. Get that in your head right now. I’m not marrying you and I'm not coming back here to live.”
Jamie abruptly stopped swaying to the music. He took her hand and pulled her through the couples.
“Where are we going?” She tried to tug free, but he gripped her tighter, probably guessing she wouldn’t make a scene. He nodded at friends and acquaintances as he dragged Claire across the lawn, around the back of the house and toward the stables.
When she saw their destination, she dug in her heels. “No. No way.”
“Come on, quit squirming. You’ve been in the barn before.”
“Not in a hell of a long time.” She pulled him to a stop. “I don’t want to do this. Not now.” She wobbled slightly where she stood. Too much damn champagne.
“Too bad. You’re going to do it.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he practically shoved her into the stable, flicking on the light by the door.
The pungent smell of the horses took her immediately back to the long days of her childhood spent mucking out stalls, oiling saddles, and curry combing manes. Overwhelmed by memories, she looked for Starshine. But no, the mare she’d ridden as a teenager in countless rodeos was long gone, sold by her father when it was clear she wasn’t coming home. Tears pricked her eyes and she forced them back. She missed her horse desperately when she moved to Billings. Cried for her every night for weeks. What had the mare thought when Claire disappeared?
“Come see,” Jamie said softly, and led her down the center aisle. She heard the mounts shifting in their stalls, saw heads stretch over walls to see who had come to visit. Snuffling for treats. She hardened her heart. No way would she touch any of them.
Jamie opened a stall at the far end and crooned to the grey quarter-horse within. “This is Storm,” he said, maintaining his soft cadence.
“She’s beautiful,” Claire heard herself say. She was drawn forward against her will, wanting so badly to run her hand along her glossy coat. Storm turned and looked at her from one long-lashed eye.
Claire was a goner.
Later, she barely remembered stepping to the mare, barely remembered stroking her, pressing her cheek to hers, and feeling the acquiescence of the horse, the subtle shift that told Claire this animal would consent to bear her. She breathed in the warm, straw scent of the beast, and something unhitched in her heart, a little give like a crack in a dam. She ignored it, talking to Storm as Jamie saddled her, then took over from him, buckling buckles, tightening straps, her fingers going through the motions as if she’d never left the ranch.
“Let’s go,” Jamie said, and wonder of won
ders, she was in the saddle, riding Storm, her dress bunched up around her thighs, thankful she was wearing her old boots. She followed Jamie, who rode a bay gelding he’d introduced as Walter. Dusk had deepened into night while they were in the stables, but she didn’t care. She knew all the trails around the ranch as well as the streets of Billings. Besides, all she cared about was Storm. The way she paced, the way her muscles shifted under Claire’s own.
To be back on a horse…
Jamie headed northwest, past outbuildings, pastures and onto open range, winding through the rolling land for nearly half an hour before he came to a stop. Claire finally took stock of her surroundings and her heart squeezed. Damn it, she should have known.
“No.”
“Yes, Claire. You can’t let the past control your life.” He dismounted and turned to face her. “We’ll only stay a moment.”
After a second, she, too, slid down from her horse and dropped the reins to the ground. Cautiously, she followed Jamie the final few steps to her parents’ gravesite. The Cruz headstones stood plain and matter-of-fact in the desolate ground. There were no trees to shade them, no flowers, no bench. Her mother and father laid to rest together for all eternity.
“I came to the funeral,” she said.
“Have you come back to visit their graves since?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Jamie moved to her side, but didn’t touch her.
She shrugged.
“Are you still angry at her?”
She thought about that. “I don’t know.”
“Still carrying a torch for Mack Mackenzie?” His tone was ironic, but she sensed the question was real.
“Of course not. What an ass.”
“Then maybe it’s time to forgive your mom for putting an end to all that,” he said.
She closed her eyes. Jamie didn’t know the half of it. He thought she left the ranch because her mother found out about her crush on Mack. He had no idea she’d walked right in on them. Mack and her mother, right in the stables.
“Was it all her traveling? Did you mind that she didn’t take you with her?”
“Hell, no. I liked it when she was gone.” Claire hugged her arms across her chest, the lie sitting heavy in her throat. “She was miserable here and she made all the rest of us miserable. She wouldn’t have wanted me on those trips of hers anyway. I would have cramped her style.”
“In what way?”
“Not you, too.” Claire shook her head. “I don’t know if all of you just play dumb or if you really are dumb.”
“Whoa, slow down there. I assume you mean Ethan and me.”
“And my father.”
“None of us are dumb.”
“You sure act like it.” She blew out a breath. “What exactly do you think my mother was doing in Europe?”
“Shopping, I guess. She sure spent a lot of money.”
Claire turned to him. “So you were paying attention. Sure, she shopped all right. Spent us all into debt. But that’s not the half of it.” She waited expectantly.
“I’m not following you.”
“She had affairs, Jamie. Lots of them, I bet. How do you think she blew all that money? Buying dresses? Uh uh – she was supporting lovers over there. Putting them up in expensive hotels, wining and dining them, doing God knows what. Then she’d get guilty, I guess, come running home and pretend to be the loving wife and mother for a few months before she went off and did it again.”
Jamie stepped back. “How on earth do you figure that?”
“Because she did it here, too.”
“You can’t know that,” he said.
“I saw them,” she blazed. “Up against a stall, Mack’s hands braced against the wall, my mom’s arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. Do you want to hear more?”
“Shit.” Jamie shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Claire.”
“Well, sorry doesn’t fix it.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “No wonder you left. Did you ever…say anything?”
“To my father? No. I couldn’t. I never looked him in the eye again, either. He had to know.” She shook her head. “I was so angry at him, too – angry that he didn’t stop her, or leave her, or something.”
“You hardly ever came home after that.”
“How could I?”
“And now they’re gone.”
A sob nearly escaped her at his plain-spoken words. Now they were gone, and she couldn’t ask her mother why, or tell her father how sorry she was that his wife betrayed him, or tell either one of them good-bye.
“Let’s ride.” She moved toward Storm, who'd wandered off a few paces in the darkness.
“Claire, wait. Just a minute.” His hand on her wrist held her in place. “You have to forgive them or it’ll tear you apart.”
She tried to speak. Couldn’t. This time when she tugged, he let her go.
She felt better once she was back on Storm. Jamie took the lead again, retracing their steps and as the gravesite receded, she was able to breathe. Jamie was right – her parents were gone and there wasn’t anything she could do to fix the past. Despite everything that happened she missed them both horribly.
Would spending more time here on the ranch make that worse or better? It felt so good to ride again. Could she return to Billings after six weeks on the ranch? Could she take off to travel around the world after spending so much time at home? Would she be able to carry off her revenge or would she fall for Jamie's charm? She snorted and Jamie looked back over his shoulder.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to go back or go on?” Jamie asked.
Scanning the terrain, she saw the lights of the Big House to her left, the open range ahead of them. A flicker of a memory set her nerves alight. She knew one way to leave the past behind.
“Race you to the lookout!”
Storm responded almost before she issued her command, bunching her muscles and bursting into an all-out gallop that made Claire cry out in joy. Her hair whipped back behind her as her own muscles responded, naturally lifting her into a crouch over the saddle as Storm picked up speed. She gripped the reins firmly and moved with Storm until she felt it was her own legs running, her own heart pounding fit to burst as they flew over the ground. Her laughter pealed out as they raced on and on and she didn’t even look back to see if Jamie was following. She didn’t care.
This was freedom. This was living. How had she forgotten?
“Come on, Storm,” she urged and the horse responded, going even faster. Just as she had as a teenager, she was flying toward a ridge that overlooked the river valley, with a moon climbing the sky and the whole world to herself. She was invincible on the back of a horse. She could do anything.
“This way.” Storm knew what she wanted. They veered off down a slope and then up again, skirted a stand of brush. It was her own way to the ridge, the one Jamie had avoided last time they took this ride together. They'd been fourteen and sixteen then, before all the trouble with Mack started. Before her family fell apart. They'd snuck out one night onto the range, stole two of the ranch's best racehorses and galloped over the terrain like they were chased by the hounds of hell.
“Claire!” he called now, but he was too far behind to stop her. She knew he'd divert her from this trail if he could. No one took this jump.
No one but her.
She rode flat out, skimming the ground, Storm’s stride so long she flowed like the river water so far below.
“Claire! No!”
Too late.
As one, horse and woman leaped out over the abyss, cleared the wash of logs an old creek had pushed together and jammed up against an outcropping of rock making an obstacle so high and wide that most horses would balk rather than go over it.
Storm cleared it like an eagle swooping to the sky with its prey.
Claire raced up the ridge, then slowed Storm to a canter, then a walk. Jamie caught up, flung himself off his horse and st
rode toward her, grabbing the reins out of her hands.
“What the hell are you thinking?”
“I knew she could do it.”
“It’s dark, Claire. That jump’s stupid in the light. You have no right to risk…”
“I knew she could do it.”
Claire gave Storm one last caress, pressed her cheek to her mane and hoped the horse knew half of what she felt at this moment. She slid down and faced Jamie.
“I knew…I got on her and I felt…I felt…” She couldn’t put it into words. “Oh, God, Jamie –“
His scowl turned into a reluctant grin as she grappled for words. “You forgot what it feels like, didn’t you?”
He was right – she’d forgotten everything about riding horses. What it felt like to work as one with an animal, to streak over the ground, to break free from the every day into eternity.
Her nerves on fire, pulse still racing in her veins, she felt a hunger for life she hadn’t felt in months.
Years.
And Jamie looked so good.
She took a step toward him, wanting something – wanting...
With a groan he pulled her to him, bent to cover her mouth with his, tangled his hands in her hair, devoured her. He tasted so good she forgot her reasons for keeping him at bay. She wanted more. She wanted to be closer to him, pressing against him. His hands sliding over her skin brought every nerve alight and she stood on her tiptoes, the better to crush her mouth against his. Jamie groaned, an animal sound, and she leaned into him, covering him with kisses. The bristles of his beard scraped her lips and she relished the feeling; it let her know this was real – this was happening.
She ripped at the buttons of his shirt, pushed it off him, smoothed her hands over his hard chest.
"Claire," Jamie breathed. He worked at the buttons of her dress, searching for a way to get it off of her. Claire dragged him to his knees and he cradled her in his arms.
