by Rachel Lee
Looking into her eyes, he had that impulse again. His entire body began to sizzle, and he felt his groin grow heavy with desire. Her eyes darkened and he recognized her response to him. She still wanted him, too.
Before he could remind himself there was no future in it, a sarcastic voice said from the kitchen doorway, “My, isn’t this cozy.”
Holly snapped her hand back as if she’d been scalded. Cliff felt the surge of an old, familiar anger. Right then he’d have loved nothing more than to carry that woman out to her car, throw her clothes in after her and tell her to get lost for good.
“I don’t get invited to dinner?” Lisa asked. “What a rude way to treat a guest.”
Cliff stood and faced her. “You’re not a guest here. You’re a stray that a kind lady offered to take in for a few days. She could change her mind and I wouldn’t blame her. So find your own food in the fridge and feed yourself. You can do at least that much on your own, can’t you?”
He turned back to Holly and was surprised to see a faint smile dancing around the corners of her mouth. “Would you like to take a walk and finish eating later when the company is more pleasant?”
Holly rose instantly. “I’d love to.” Her smile became visible.
Cliff held out his hand and to his amazement, she took it. They grabbed jackets from the mudroom, because spring evenings cooled down quite a bit, and stepped out back.
“I’m sorry,” he said when they’d left the house a few yards behind. “I probably just made it worse for you.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ve dealt with tougher nuts. Gang members. Street fighters. Men who were pummeling their wives or kids. She doesn’t scare me.”
He took her hand again, squeezing her fingers. “I can’t imagine what you’ve seen or been through.”
“Good. Not everyone needs to. So, if Lisa hadn’t turned up, it would have been nice to use you as a sounding board about this camp idea.”
“We can do that anyway. Maybe if we ignore her enough, she’ll leave. You know what occurred to me today as I was working? Before Lisa arrived, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
He drew a deep breath, preparing for any kind of response, and said, “I’d have loved to take you riding, visit some of our old haunts.”
He half expected her to get angry for bringing up that long-ago summer. Especially when he’d initially been so cold to her when she returned.
He heard her sigh. “Cliff, you can’t go back in time.”
“I know that. But we had a wonderful summer and sometimes I go to our places and just remember it. Good memories are rare enough in this life.”
She stopped walking and faced him. “Really? You do that?”
“There’s only one part of it that wasn’t good. Why the hell would I want to forget?”
She looked down at her feet. “I try hard not to, but sometimes I think about it, too,” she admitted quietly. “On nights when I start to feel worn-out or burned-out. I’m not complaining, mind you. I chose the life I needed, and I’m sorry my choice hurt you, but yeah, sometimes I remember. I was happier then than I’ve ever been.”
He supposed he could be content knowing that. His memories weren’t addled. “Me, too,” he said quietly. “Me, too.”
Another look passed between them, this one almost smoldering. It was a fire they couldn’t douse with Lisa in the house nearby, and now he had a new reason to curse his ex. On the other hand, it was probably best that they couldn’t. She intended to go back to her job. Neither of them needed a repeat of the summer long ago, and sex wasn’t enough. It was never enough.
He was just getting to know this Holly. Best not to muddle things any more than they already were.
He dragged his gaze away, and they walked farther along the fence line. “These leases...” he said.
“Yours, you mean?”
“Yeah. If you need more room, you could use some of the land. I don’t need every square inch of it. But I do need most of it. It’s allowed me to expand my operation because of the added grazing. The ranch is actually turning a profit, not an easy thing to do these days. But you’re talking about bunkhouses and things like that. You might need more room.”
“That’s a long way down the road,” she answered. “But that’s a generous offer. Thank you.”
“It might not be as far down the road as you think. We could transform this place pretty fast. The main thing you need to do is figure out what you need.”
“And figure out the red tape.”
He was glad to see her brightening again. He wanted to know more about her life in Chicago, about the things that had brought her here looking so worn, but he didn’t feel he had the right to get so personal. Not yet, maybe never.
Ten days, he reminded himself. She was leaving in ten days. She kept mentioning it, maybe as a warning. Evidently she didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of their long-ago summer romance.
Except, much as it had hurt him in the end, he just couldn’t think of it as a mistake. But maybe it had been for her. She hadn’t accepted his offer to visit some of their old haunts, even though she’d admitted to treasuring at least some of the memories.
Maybe for her it hadn’t meant what it had meant for him at the time. Maybe her heart hadn’t been in it. Maybe for her it had been just a fling.
The thought soured his mouth and stomach. Be smart, he told himself. Keep your guard up. It was possible to be helpful without going any further.
Maybe for once in his life it was time not to throw his entire being into something. For sure, the only thing he gave his all to that had never betrayed him was his ranch.
It would be wise to remember that.
* * *
Cliff headed out an hour later with a handwritten thank-you note from Holly for Jean. She stood in the doorway watching him drive away, feeling as if something really important had happened, as if the ground beneath her feet had shifted in some way.
She had certainly seen a side of Cliff she’d never imagined. He had survived a poisonous relationship; he seemed firmer and steadier than she remembered him being. He had certainly grown up well. And he had evidently turned into a protector. Imagine him spending all this time here just to try to keep Lisa in line. That had to have been uncomfortable for him, even after all these years.
Her attraction to him hadn’t faded one little bit, either. Maybe he was even more attractive now. It was pointless to give in to it, but considering she hadn’t felt any attraction to a man since she was attacked last year, it was good to know she still could respond this way.
“How do I get wash done?”
Holly turned slowly, closing the door on the night and preparing to deal with Lisa. “Laundry?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well,” Holly said slowly, “there are machines at the back of the house. Help yourself. If you want someone to do it for you, I think there’s a laundry in town where they charge by the load for washing, drying and folding. I’m not sure they also do ironing.”
Lisa frowned.
Holly smiled politely, then headed for the living room. She needed to find something to read, a wall to put up between her and this woman. She had a feeling she was going to regret taking Lisa in more than she had ever regretted providing shelter to someone in trouble numerous times in the past.
Lisa wasn’t really in trouble. She was trouble.
Unfortunately, the woman followed her into the living room. “I can’t afford to pay someone to do my wash.”
“Like I said, there are machines in the back of the house.” Holly sat in her aunt’s rocker and reached for a magazine. Something about embroidery. She’d never had time for that.
“I’ll need help,” Lisa said.
Holly looked up. “Really? You don’t know
how to do laundry? I’ve worked with children who do laundry for their entire families.”
“You’re mean.”
“If I were mean, you wouldn’t be staying here.” Holly returned her attention to the magazine.
But Lisa wasn’t ready to go away. “I saw how you looked at Cliff. You have the hots for him.” She sat on the sofa facing Holly.
“Really?” Holly tried to sound disinterested.
“Well, he’s a looker. I fell for it, too.”
Holly arched her brow, but refused to take her attention from the magazine. Her heart had sped up, and she could feel her annoyance building. Was this woman trying to precipitate a fight? “Looks aren’t everything.”
“They certainly aren’t. That man should have married his ranch instead of me. He’s nailed to the place.”
“Seems to be the usual thing for ranchers.”
“When we first got married, he’d take me to Denver for the weekend sometimes, but then that stopped. He said it was too expensive. So I went by myself. Then he got mad because I bought clothes and got my hair and nails done. It wasn’t like I was buying fancy jewelry or something.”
“Hmm.”
Silence for a blessed minute or two. Just as Holly dared to hope it would continue, Lisa spoke again. “So did you ever live here?”
“No. Just visited my aunt.”
“She was a strange bird.”
At that, Holly’s head snapped up. She put the magazine aside. “Are you looking for a way to make me angry? Because you’re close to succeeding, and if I can’t have you around here without me getting angry, you’re going to be leaving. I’m torn up enough about my aunt’s passing. I don’t need you to pile on. Find another way to entertain yourself.”
“Out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“You have a car.” With that Holly rose and headed upstairs. Enough was enough.
How the heck had Cliff survived this for two years? She couldn’t stand it for one evening.
Upstairs, she pulled out a book, climbed into her pajamas, then forgot all about reading as she stared out the window into the night. Cliff wouldn’t be riding this direction tonight, she thought.
She remembered what he had said about occasionally visiting their old haunts. Her cheeks heated a bit because she knew exactly what haunts he meant. Like young, healthy animals, they’d made love anywhere and everywhere they could find the privacy. Looking back at it, she was surprised at how voracious they’d both been. Oh, they’d had fun, and laughed a lot, but they’d also been insatiable.
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, remembering, and wondering if that hadn’t had something to do with her reluctance to stay with Cliff so long ago. Even at the age of twenty it had seemed to her that you needed more than sex for an enduring relationship.
But in all honesty, it wasn’t just that. She had things she wanted to do, things she couldn’t do as a ranch wife. Back then it had looked like a kind of dead end.
Right now, it looked like heaven on earth. She almost laughed aloud at herself. She was just tired. She’d been fighting burnout before she got here, before her aunt died. She had definitely needed a break, and right now this place was providing peace and relaxation. Well, except for Lisa, and that woman didn’t come close to the stressors she faced on her job.
Hell, she felt guilty from being away from her kids for even two weeks. She tried to maintain a professional distance, had even gotten better at it, but she still cared. Deep in her being, she cared about those kids and their families.
But she also remembered something one of her colleagues had said a month or so ago: “Holly, you need a break. Take some desk time, rotate into another area. If you don’t, you’re going to be useless to everyone.”
She had acknowledged the justice of what Carla had said, but hadn’t taken any action to rotate into something less taxing. Stubbornness? Hubris? She didn’t know. Certainly most of her other colleagues were capable of stepping in for her, capable of looking after her clients.
So what was it with her? Maybe she hadn’t realized how close to the edge she was getting? Certainly, not until she got here and felt the weight lifting from her had she realized that she was tense in every fiber of her being.
Cliff’s words floated back to her, about her reluctance to let anyone help her. Maybe that was at the rock bottom of it all. She put her mind to something and let nothing deter her. That had cost her Cliff, and now it might be harming her health.
She turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror over the dresser. She’d lost twenty pounds since the attack. Some of them she had needed to lose, but the woman who stared back at her right now looked almost hollow.
Quickly she turned back to the window, concealing her reflection there by pressing her forehead to the glass again.
Maybe she had a lot more to deal with than just her grief over Martha and closing this place up. Maybe she needed to deal with things deep inside her that drove her mercilessly.
There was really no reason for it. She’d had a normal, happy childhood. Well, as normal as the child of parents in the diplomatic corps could have. She’d bounced around the world, but had always thrived on the changes. It was during those travels that she had developed a deep ache in her soul for the world’s suffering innocents. It was that experience that had driven her into social work.
But still, Carla was right. If she didn’t take a break, she’d wind up being useless to the very people she most wanted to help.
Maybe her dedication was more than dedication. Maybe some of those starving children she had seen around the world had become a demon that drove her, yielding to no reason.
One thing for sure, she had never forgotten their faces. Their hunger. The rags they wore. Her parents had tried to shield her from the worst of it, but they hadn’t always succeeded. While she’d never been in a war zone—her parents wouldn’t have been allowed to take their daughter into one, even had they wanted to—she’d been in many countries that could easily be called famine, disease and neglect.
The same famine, disease and neglect that collected in pockets in this country like untreated sores. And always, always she felt the anger than she couldn’t do more.
Her mental mirror was proving no more comfortable than the one above the dresser. How many times in training had she been warned that she needed to keep a distance, reserve time for herself and turn it all off when she went home at night? That she could lose her effectiveness if she didn’t? That she could make herself seriously ill if she didn’t care for herself.
Damn, she thought, closing her eyes. Maybe she needed a caretaker. Clearly she wasn’t doing the job for herself.
Then another thought struck her. Her head snapped up and she scrambled for the extension phone beside the bed. Thank God it had a list of numbers on autodial, even though her aunt had seldom used this room. Martha must have been getting worried that something could happen to her at any time.
“God, Martha,” she said out loud. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Because she would have come running at the drop of a hat if Martha had needed her.
She hit the button labeled Cliff and listened to it ring. At last he answered.
“Martin Ranch.”
“Cliff? Cliff, it’s Holly. I need you, please. Meet me out back by the fence.”
“Want me to bring a horse for you or drive?”
“I don’t care. I just need you.”
“On my way.”
There was a click and the line went dead.
* * *
It was too damn cold, and high clouds had moved in overhead, turning the night dark as pitch. It was not a night for riding hell-for-leather over open ground, so Cliff hopped into his truck.
Holly had sounded tense, but not in pain, so he assumed Lisa must
have finally found a button to push. If so, that woman was going to be out of there on her butt before the sun rose if he had to call the sheriff to do it.
Damn, he should never have left the two of them alone. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He had no right to override Holly’s decision to ask Lisa to stay. Not his house.
The drive seemed to take forever, although at the speed he was going he should have gotten a half dozen tickets. Still, it took him twenty minutes to arrive, and he hit the brakes so hard at the end of the gravel drive that he skidded.
Out by the back fence. So he set out at a dead run until he saw the ghostly figure of Holly standing out there alone.
“Holly?” he asked quietly, slowing his approach.
“I’m sorry,” she said tautly. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to race. I should have told you, but...” Her voice broke.
That sound did him in. He didn’t care about the past, about the future, about whether Lisa saw and found additional reasons to be nasty. He just stepped into her and wrapped her in a bear hug as tightly as he dared, his chin coming to rest on her sweet-smelling hair. “What?” he asked, trying to shift from the fury that had been building in him to the gentleness he needed now.
“I need...I need to talk,” she said brokenly, then burst into wrenching sobs.
He didn’t ask any questions. She couldn’t have answered anyway, and for right now he felt deep inside that she just needed to be held and comforted, whatever was going on. He could do that much.
God, it felt so good to hold her again. He rubbed her back, feeling his own chest tighten in response to her pain. Gradually she began to quiet and he dared to speak.
“Want to go for a drive or over to my place?”
She drew a sharp, choked breath. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Away.”
So he took her away.
He drove more slowly this time and decided to take her to his place. It’d be more comfortable and they’d have the privacy she seemed to want. Why else had she stood at the back fence alone?
He wanted to ask if Lisa had done something but kept quiet. Let her talk in her own time, when she was ready. She didn’t need any pressure from him.
