So Grace let the music fill the car and watched the mountains slide past as they drove toward the narrow dirt road that led to the river. She watched the sky, and just like magic, the clouds eventually slid on after only the sparest of rain showers. Their departure revealed a painfully blue sky, surrounded by the dark horizon of the storm.
God, the place really was beautiful. The whole valley of Jackson Hole was just one amazing sight after another. She wondered what it would look like in winter when it was deep under snow and frozen through. Beautiful and frighteningly stark, she imagined. She’d seen snow, but she’d never lived in it. How strange to have to bundle up and dare the ice every single day.
She supposed she’d find out in Vancouver, but it wouldn’t be like this: isolated and brutal. Maybe she’d come back in the winter sometime to visit. To see people who could’ve been old friends if she’d stayed long enough. Maybe even hook up with Cole if they were both unattached.
Her heart swelled at the thought of seeing him a couple of years from now. The sweetness of it. The anticipation. But it hurt, too. She didn’t know why. It hurt to think of those years passing.
Frowning, she turned her head away from Eve and watched the golden meadows slide by her window. She wanted to see the elk, she thought, when they came down in the winter. She wanted to know what that looked like.
But not this year. Some other time, far from now, when everything was better.
* * *
SHE’D RUN AWAY AGAIN. But that was fine. If that was what she needed to feel safe, Cole could live with that. It would only make it that much better when she finally woke up and turned toward him instead of trying to escape. And she would. Soon. He was sure of it.
Still, he kept an eye out for Eve’s car all morning. Last night, Grace had pulled away from him, throwing insults when he hurt her feelings. But when he’d revealed his uncertainty about his leg, she’d reached out. Sure, she’d say it was just sex, but it had been comfort. Hard as she was, she didn’t like to see other people hurt.
What had she said about Rayleen and Easy? I think it’s sweet. Sweet to watch two lonely people together, when she couldn’t even admit to being lonely herself.
God, he wanted to take care of her.
Then again, he shouldn’t think like that. At this point, he couldn’t even take care of himself. Or the ranch. Or any of his responsibilities.
A young hand who’d been sent to the corral to retrieve Madeline’s horse returned, and Cole saddled it. She wanted another ride to try to find the perfect place for a nighttime-sky shot. One of the monsters could fly, apparently. “She’s a good rider,” he explained to Jeremy, “but try to keep her under control. She tends to take more risks than she should.”
“Got it,” Jeremy replied, dusting off his jeans and tucking in his shirttail. This boy was her new cowboy toy, maybe. He was young. Nineteen or twenty. Agreeable and enthusiastic. She liked that.
Cole didn’t feel any twinge of jealousy, but he felt a little bitter, remembering when he’d been young like that. Stupid and carefree. Invincible.
He caught sight of a vehicle coming down the drive and turned over the reins of the pinto to Jeremy. But it wasn’t Eve’s car. It was a big silver pickup with a logo painted on the side. The Idaho animal handler they’d been waiting for since yesterday. He’d bring in horses for the actual film shoot. Trained ponies who’d do exactly what Madeline wanted.
Cole smiled without any amusement as he walked over to meet the handler. It was his job to show the guy around and work with what he might need for the shoot.
Two hours later, he’d dealt with the handler, approved locations for fake fencing to be put up that wouldn’t interfere with the day-to-day operations of the ranch, and rescued a production assistant from an angry rooster.
He would’ve lost his mind if he hadn’t walked into the yard and spotted Grace. He smiled before he could stop himself. The purple strands of her hair glinted in the sunlight, completely at odds with the pastoral scene behind her—the mountains still striped with snow at the highest peaks, even in July. The wild grass, golden and rippling like waves in the distance. And just behind her, the spring house lurked, its dark wood frame leaning precariously to the south, just as it had for the past twenty years. And in the foreground of it all was Grace, wearing her tight black jeans and some sort of tunic with a flirtatious nude girl painted on the side. Grace frowned, of course, unhappy about something, but her black eyelashes curled up in cheerful sexiness against pink eye shadow. Her lips were lush and rosy against her white skin.
She was so out of place. And exactly where she should be.
“Mr. Rawlins?” a young man asked. He was carrying a clipboard and looked about seventeen.
“Just a second,” Cole said absentmindedly. “I’ll be right back.” He headed across the yard, straight toward Grace. She was talking to Eve now, nodding, still serious.
“Are you sure?” Grace was asking.
“Absolutely. I would have mentioned it sooner, but I forgot that Michael had moved to Vancouver. I’ll call him tonight when I get back to the office if you think you’d be interested.”
“Of course I would be. Thank you so much.”
“When do you plan on going?”
Cole stopped short a few feet away.
Grace was turned half away from him, but he could hear her clearly. He could see her mouth forming the words. “If I can get a job lined up, I’ll move on in a week or two. But not if you still need me. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“No, once preproduction is done, I’ll be…” Eve’s words died as she met Cole’s eyes. “Is everything okay?”
No. No, everything was not okay. His ears were filled with a rushing sound that seemed to have nothing to do with the breeze lifting Grace’s hair off her shoulders.
“Hey, Cole,” she said casually.
What had she been saying? She was leaving? But not if you need me. Her? Eve? “What the hell’s going on, Grace?”
“Uh,” Eve said. “I’ll leave you two alone. If that’s what you want, Grace.”
Grace nodded, though she kept her glare straight on Cole as Eve moved away.
She hadn’t been saying that, had she?
“I’m in the middle of a business conversation, Cole. What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re leaving?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re leaving Jackson,” he said, more certain of what he’d heard now. His pulse tripped and tumbled. “After what you said last night, you’re just standing here talking about taking off.”
“What did I say last night?”
He couldn’t believe this. It was happening again. Promises and lies and then a casual goodbye as if he barely even had a right to that.
“Cole—”
“You said you were going to stay.”
“I did not. I didn’t say anything like that.”
“You’re kidding, right? Do you not remember anything we talked about last night?”
She crossed her arms and looked at him as if he was the bad guy. “Of course I remember. I whined about my life and then I said I was going to change it. I didn’t say anything about staying in Wyoming!”
“Staying in Wyoming,” he murmured, not quite able to draw enough breath. She said it as if it was the most absurd phrase ever spoken. The most ridiculous idea ever posed. Staying in Wyoming. With him. “Right. Of course. Why would you ever stay here? Unless, of course, Eve Hill needed help. Then you might stay. Or if your aunt offered you a place to live. Or if you had nowhere else to go. Other than that, why would you even think of staying, Grace?”
She shook her head. “I don’t get what you’re upset about. I’m going to Vancouver. I told you that before.”
“Yeah, you did. And then last night, I thought… Jesus, what does it matter? You’re going. That’s it, right?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Eve thinks she might be able to find me a job.”
“Well, then, you’d better run as fast as you can, Grace. You’ve got a job waiting for you out there. Anything else? Or is it just the job? Nothing more meaningful than that? Just like this vacant apartment in this shitty little town. One little dot on the map to keep you going. One more meaningless physical connection to the earth since there’s nothing else holding you down.”
Her eyes blazed for a moment, showing amber in the depths of brown. But she shook her head and blew out a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood me.”
“I didn’t misunderstand shit. I see you, Grace. I see you and I thought I liked the real girl inside you. Last night, you were honest. For once. And I thought I liked you. But now you’re back to lying and running. You’re back to fear.”
She glanced around as if she were afraid someone might hear. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I’m not afraid. I’m looking for something real.”
“A job?”
“Yes, a job! And hope. A future. Eve thinks maybe she has an in with a scouting company. So, I can do the stuff I’ve been doing for her.”
“Listen to yourself. You want to go all the way to Vancouver in hopes of what? The same job you actually have here?”
“This isn’t the place for me,” she said on a furious whisper.
“Why?”
“You already said it yourself. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in.”
“You don’t belong anywhere,” he snapped.
Grace gasped and stumbled back from him.
“You don’t want to belong. You have no idea who you’d be if you fit in. People accept you here, Grace. You want to talk about Wyoming like it’s some backwater, but people like you here. So if you don’t fit in, it’s because you’re throwing your arms out and yelling that you won’t be made to. Stop pretending like it’s everyone else. It’s you.”
“I know it’s me, damn you,” she snarled. “You don’t get to throw that at me like it’s going to hurt.”
He shook his head. “What you said last night—I’m not the one who misunderstood it. You are.”
“I know what I meant!”
“Do you? Because you said you were ready to stop running. Ready to stop living like you didn’t have anything valuable to lose.”
“I’m not running,” she snapped.
“And not losing anything either, I suppose?”
She raised her chin and stared him down. He held her gaze, trying to force her to show him something. Anything. But her eyes were black and depthless.
New pain bloomed in his body, and it had nothing to do with his leg. “Okay, then. I guess you were right. You’d better go on and build something real somewhere, because you sure as hell haven’t pulled it off here.”
Thunder rumbled from the east as he turned and stalked away. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t even make a sound.
Something valuable. Right. That wasn’t him. It hadn’t been him when he was young and whole, and it sure as hell wasn’t him as a broken-down cowboy. She’d made that clear from the start. She was right. He was the one who’d misunderstood.
Jesus. He hadn’t learned a damn thing.
He stalked past the boy with the clipboard, ignoring his outstretched hand.
“Mr. Rawlins!”
“It’s Cole,” he barked, still moving toward the big house. He was done with this shit. Done with Easy and his sadistic manipulation. Either Cole was good enough to run this place or he wasn’t. Either he was a man and a cowboy and a boss, or he wasn’t.
“Mr. Cole!”
“Christ.” He paused on the front porch, one hand on the door. “What the hell is it? Somebody in urgent need of a lasso demonstration? Or can I offer to walk you to the bathroom trailer and wipe your ass for you?”
The kid blinked, his eyes huge in his face.
Cole sighed. “I’m sorry. What is it?”
“Ms. Beckingham! She was supposed to be back an hour ago and she’s still gone.”
Great. Just what he needed. A stubborn director lost on an adventure. “I’m sure she and Jeremy lost track of time. You can’t reach her on the phone?” But he already knew the answer. If you could get a signal up here, it dropped off as soon as you got into the trees.
“Let’s give it another fifteen minutes—” Thunder fell in from the east again, rumbling and rolling like stones. Cole looked up to see a bolt of lightning light up the next hill. Not good. It looked like dusk out there and it was only 3:00 p.m. “Maybe you should let her security detail know.”
“I already did. They took a truck in the direction she went, but it ends in a trail.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to—”
This time it wasn’t rolling thunder that cut him off but the gunshot crack of lightning close by. Several of the crew members shrieked, and everybody sprang into action to gather up equipment or cover their work with tarps. The wind shifted and suddenly went cold.
Cole rushed through the big house and found Easy in his office. “Have you seen any of the guys around?”
“Most of the men are doing a pasture move today.”
“All right.” He rushed out and checked the barn just to be sure, then grabbed his saddle and chaps. The kid with the clipboard followed behind him.
“You’re sure?” Cole asked. “They’re that late?”
“Yes. She was supposed to be back at two o’clock. We’re going to the river one last time. Ms. Beckingham’s plane is chartered to leave at five-thirty.”
“Okay. I’m heading up to look for them.” Lightning flashed over their heads. A deafening crack followed. He tried to remember when he’d first heard the thunder, even if he hadn’t registered it. But he had no idea. He’d been distracted. And heck, half the sky was still blue. Unfortunately, it was the wrong half. The clouds moving from the east were nearly black.
Cole shouldered his saddle and headed for the corral. His big mare looked at him warily when he approached, but gave a shiver of satisfaction when he laid the blanket over her back. Cole would’ve shivered, too, for a different reason. But adrenaline was working through his bloodstream, keeping him from thinking too much about what he was doing.
“You ready to ride, girl?” he asked as he went through the familiar motions. Watching his own hands was like watching a movie. He could’ve done this in his sleep, yet it felt as if he’d never seen it before. His pulse was heavy and loud, but strangely slow.
He snugged the front cinch, then finished up quickly before patting her rump. “Be gentle, all right?”
She turned her head toward him and then away. He was slipping his boot into the stirrup when another bolt of lightning blasted the hill. She danced and snorted, and he slid his foot free. Now his pulse sped up. Just a little. Just enough to make him nervous.
“All right,” he murmured. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Cowboys didn’t turn in every time it rained. On cue, a drop hit his hand. Then another, so heavy it stung almost like hail. He put his boot back into place and mounted his horse. At first, it felt fine. A little stretch in his hip. Nothing more. He felt a stab of relief so sharp that the breath flew out of his lungs like he’d been punched.
They’d been wrong. The doctors and therapists and specialists. They’d tortured him for nothing. They’d been wrong and he’d been right.
But once he moved off the wide, flat dirt around the corral area and started the climb up the trail, he settled into the saddle and felt a deep twinge in his hip.
He shifted and tried to relax into it, but that just made the pain worse.
Cole took a deep breath and tightened his thighs, trying to transfer his weight forward. That helped. A little. But he was barely into the trees and he could feel every shift of the mare beneath him, every terrible thump of her hooves. The pain moved deeper into his pelvis. Then his spine.
He shouldn’t have done this. This would make it worse.
Then again, if he wasn’t healed now, he was never going to be right again. He knew that. He could see it in the faces
of every person who brought it up. How’s your leg, Cole? How’s your hip? That concern he pretended not to see. The sorrow they tried to hide.
Cole grunted and put his head down and told himself it didn’t hurt as much as it did.
As the trail got steeper, he gave up his fight and let his body ease back until he was leaning back farther than he normally would. That wasn’t bad, actually. It put a lot of the weight on his tailbone instead of his hips. In fact, aside from the sharp stretch of unused muscles, it felt almost fine. Until another crack of lightning broke the day and his mare stumbled. She caught herself quickly and settled back into a walk, but the jolt sent fire up his bones.
Cole cursed and gritted his teeth. Fear began to eat his adrenaline and, between that and the pain, sweat broke out and the wind turned it to ice. But it hardly mattered. Another flash of lightning seemed to be the starting gun for the rain, and it fell in a sudden explosion of sound. He was slightly protected by the trees, but not from the branches that slapped into him, dragging over his chaps and trying to knock his hat free.
At one point his mount startled and lurched forward, but she was a damn good horse, and even with his weight balanced so strangely on her, she only raced a few feet before slowing again.
She picked her way confidently over rocks and didn’t hesitate for a second when the trail skirted along an exposed cliff. Cole wasn’t so sure, though. He made himself sit upright, despite the pain. He didn’t want to throw her off in any way, and he needed to be able to see over the edge. Likely Madeline and Jeremy had been caught in the storm and taken shelter. But just in case, he kept his eyes on the ridge of rock fifty feet below.
The trail continued on for more than three miles, but Cole knew where Madeline had been headed and he couldn’t see any reason she’d have wanted to go down the other side of that split in the ridge. Then again, her mind didn’t work like his, and maybe the view wouldn’t be enough for her. Maybe she’d decided she needed to head down into the next valley to see what the view was like from the other side.
No way would Jeremy have the backbone to say no to a woman like Madeline.
For the first time, it occurred to Cole that there could be another reason they were late returning. His eye twitched. He shifted in the saddle again and couldn’t find a position that didn’t make it feel as if hot steel was jammed into his hip.
Close Enough to Touch Page 23
