by Cora Seton
He did for Gwen.
Although this realization scared the shit out of him, he wasn’t about to walk away. He wanted to see where this took him.
“Hey, you,” she said, stretching her luscious body. “What time is it? Or should I ask, what day?”
He chuckled, rolling so he was on top of her. “It’s two o’clock Saturday afternoon.”
“Oh, good.” A wicked smiled tugged her lips, while her hands trailed down his back, then slapped his ass. “That means I can get me more of this.”
“You’re not too tired?” he asked, kissing her neck and growing hard as she rocked her hips.
Witch.
After sleeping several solid hours, they’d woken up famished, and headed to the kitchen. There was nothing finer than sitting buck naked at the table, eating left over pizza, getting glimpses of pert nipples through a curtain of long, golden hair.
That had led to spreading the sexy woman out and testing the integrity of the table while he took his sweet nature time exploring the world of Gwen. By the time they’d finished and crawled back to bed, dawn had peeked through the blinds.
“Nope.” She pushed at his shoulder and flipped them around so she was sitting on him.
Once again, he got a glimpse of her glorious breasts, peeping through her golden hair. He reached up and brushed a thumb over the tempting buds. She slapped his hands away.
“Soon. Not yet. I can’t think when you touch me, and I wanted to ask you something,” she said, gaze turning serious.
“Okay.” He shoved his hands behind his head and held her gaze. “Ask away.”
“I wanted to know about Chrissie.”
His pulse quieted down. He hadn’t expected her to say that. He’d thought she was going to ask his intentions or demand he make a claim or something. Not ask about Barry’s daughter.
“How did she die?”
He could still see Barry’s face when he’d found out. Tanner had been with him at the fire station when the news flashed on the TV. “On vacation, in a plane crash.”
“How awful. I’m sorry.” Compassion filled Gwen’s eyes as she stared down at him. “Were you seeing her at the time?”
He shook his head and trailed a finger up her arm. “No. We were never an item.”
She frowned. “But…I thought. Barry said—”
“Chrissie asked me to pretend to go out with her so she could sneak to see her girlfriend in the next county.” He waited for his meaning to sink in.
“Oh…Oh.”
“Yeah.” He sighed.
Chrissie hadn’t thought her father would understand. Tanner had tried to tell her he would.
He should’ve tried harder.
“She’d been too afraid Barry would see her differently. But, he loved her dearly. She was his world. Especially after his wife had up and left them when Chrissie was three.”
“I’m sorry.”
He watched his finger as it glided over her soft skin. “I eventually got her to agree. She’d promised she’d tell him when she came back.” He blew out a breath. “She never made it back.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, brushing a thumb over his jaw. “Why do I get the impression you blame yourself for her death?”
He let out a mirthless laugh. “Because I do.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why?”
“If I had insisted she tell her dad before the trip, she would’ve been here in Harland that weekend and would never have gotten on that plane.”
“Oh, Tanner. You can’t take the blame for fate. You just can’t. If Chrissie hadn’t gotten on that plane, she would’ve died some other way.”
He stared up at her, surprised at the conviction in her eyes. “You really believe that?”
“Yes. When your number’s up. It’s up.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I have to. It’s the only way I can live with…” Her voice trailed off and eyes closed, but not before he’d seen grief and guilt filling her gaze.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Is this about the child you lost?”
She gasped, and her eyes flew open. “H-how’d you know?”
Chapter Eight
‡
Tanner continued to hold Gwen’s hand, which now had a slight tremor. “I kinda knew by the way you were when Kerri went into labor.” He’d seen the same grief and guilt in her eyes then, too.
She nodded.
“Want to tell me about it?”
She shrugged. “It’s as you probably guessed. My lifestyle led to a miscarriage.”
He was careful to keep emotions from showing. “How far along were you?”
“Only three months.” She sniffed, brushing a stray tear from her face.
His insides gripped tight. He wanted to crush her close, to comfort her, but he sensed she needed to talk about it. That she had never talked about it before. So, he continued to hold her hand, and his tongue.
“I didn’t do drugs. Ever. But the father did. It was weird, you know? I never thought about being a mom, but when I discovered I was pregnant, I was…happy. I immediately quit drinking and partying. I kept thinking, if I can just get through the first trimester, we might be okay.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “Guess the damage was already done.”
“Come here.”
He tugged her hand, and she toppled onto his chest. He couldn’t take it, had to hold her. She hugged him tight and cried. This, too, was something she needed to do. He couldn’t pretend to know what she was going through, only that it hurt and guilt ran deep. That was something he understood.
He waited until her sniffs turned into random hiccups before he spoke. “None of that was your fault, Gwen.”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “But, if I had been a better person. If I—”
He shook his head. “Don’t you see? You did what you could. You quit the party lifestyle, cleaned up. That proved you were a good person.”
“But not before. I was a little out of control.”
A smile tugged his lips, despite the gravity of the subject. “I like you a little out of control.”
She sniffed and giggled at the same time, then rolled completely back on top of him again. “I know.”
“Minx.”
Her chin lifted. “I prefer fox.”
He laughed, running his fingers through her soft, silky, gorgeous hair. “You are certainly that.”
“And you are certainly a good person, Tanner Hathaway, for trying to make me feel better.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes, thank you.” Her gaze softened. “And you were not responsible for Chrissie’s death.”
He stared up at her. “Then you weren’t responsible for your baby’s.”
“But—”
He pressed a finger to her lips and silenced her. “Fate. We will both agree they were fate.”
After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.
“Good. Now…” He paused to run his hands down her back to squeeze her sweet ass. “About that out of control thing…”
It was the last week in April and Gwen wondered where the past seven weeks had gone as she sat at a picnic table with Brandi and their friends. The eight of them occupied a spot in the shade at the Daltons’ annual Spring Barbeque.
What a view. “Damn.”
Ten handsome cowboys, stretching their T-shirts and jeans to new limits, stood a few yards away playing horseshoes. The bending and throwing showcased some fantastic muscles and tight butts. She’d seen Tanner in several types of gear, and had trouble trying to decide which she liked most. This cowboy thing he had going on today was pretty damn hot.
“I know, right?” Brandi smiled.
Jordan agreed.
Lacey lifted her beer. “Amen.”
Caitlin and Jen, Kevin’s sister, sat fanning themselves with paper plates.
“They put the hot in Texas,” Shayla stated as she and Kerri sat cradling their slumbering newborns.
“I’m glad you got
to experience a Dalton barbeque before you left, Gwen,” Jordan said, glancing sideways at her. “Or are you staying?”
That was a good question. Was she? “I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “I probably might.”
The past month had been incredible. As the cause of the fire had been faulty wiring, Mr. Crowley had the similar cottage she was now staying in double-checked, bringing her comfort when it had passed inspection. Tanner had expressed his own relief in a very…relieving way.
She and the handsome firefighter/guardsman had fallen into a fun routine. Between work and Barry and the station and guard, they fit in seeing each other as often as they could. He usually crashed at her place, although, she’d spent a few nights at the house he owned just outside the town.
The one-story ranch was on a few secluded acres. It was peaceful. She could hear herself think. She liked that. A lot. Almost as much as the owner.
“Well, I hope you do,” Lacey said.
Caitlin nodded. “Me, too.”
“So do I,” Kerri agreed. “I also hope you’ll consider continuing to work at the Pub. I’m thinking about cutting back on my hours, once I go back.” The new mom stared adoringly down at her baby girl. “I think I’m going to have trouble leaving this sweetpea.”
Pain and envy mixed to form a deep ache in Gwen’s heart. Then she chided herself. It was her own fault—and that thought brought back her conversation with Tanner earlier that month. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. She had promised to work that into her head every time she tried to take the blame.
“I know what you mean,” Shayla said, smiling lovingly down at her daughter. “I’m lucky. Most of my work can be done at home, as long as I have a phone and a computer to keep Brandi’s designing business organized.”
“I get the impression Tanner would like you to stay,” Jordan said. “He’s a good man.”
Gwen nodded. “I know.” Maybe too good. She was still working on liking herself. He’d been a big part of her progress, but she couldn’t help but feel he deserved someone less…smudged.
Jordan reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
It was on the tip of Gwen’s tongue to deny it. Would be so easy to do. Safe, too.
And a lie.
Holy crap.
Her heart rocked in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered.
She was in love with Tanner Hathaway.
“You’re good for him,” Jordan continued. “He doesn’t want perfect. He needs someone who has—”
“Been bad?” she asked, cutting her friend off.
The sheriff smiled. “Well, he does have that bad boy image to uphold, but I was going to say, changed her life around. He’s not the type to want a silver spoon, perfect model. He wants someone who has lived. Made mistakes. Realized what’s important in life and worked to achieve that.” The warm fingers surrounding hers squeezed. “He wants you.”
Gwen swallowed past her hot throat. “Dammit. This is a spring barbeque. I’m not supposed to cry at a cookout.” She sniffed, and swiped at her face.
“You can cry anywhere you damn well please.” Her friend smiled. “It’s my county. My rules.”
She laughed, and the other women joined in. No one doubted Jordan’s claim for one second. The sheriff was tough, but fair.
Gwen was listening to the women suggest other activities that were acceptable in Sheriff McCall’s county when the men lumbered toward them.
“And just what has put the smiles on such pretty faces?” Kevin asked, bending to kiss his wife and daughter.
Shayla smiled. “Just Jordan being Jordan.”
Cole tugged his wife to her feet. “I heard that.” Then pulled her in for a kiss.
“Think we all need one of those,” Connor said, settling his big frame down on the bench next to his wife and newborn.
Lacey glared at Jesse. “Don’t even think it.”
The cowboy held his hands up and backed away. “Wasn’t asking, princess.”
“Well I am,” Tanner said, pulling Gwen to her feet. “You were too distracting. I got my butt whipped.”
“Sorry.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank against him.
This was the man she loved. It felt good to admit that to herself, but she wasn’t ready to tell him.
“How can I make it up to you?”
A sinful gleam entered his eyes as he lowered his mouth. “This is a start.”
Then they were kissing. In broad daylight. In front of their friends. No one really cared, since they were all guilty of the same. Well, except for Lacey, Jesse, and Caitlin.
“Chrissie!” Barry’s voice boomed.
In a bad way.
She stiffened, and they drew apart as the disgruntled man marched toward them.
“Get away from him!” The former chief pushed his way through the guests to grab her arm and yank her from Tanner. “What did I tell you about the Hathaways? They’re trash. Now, let’s go home. You don’t need to be around this one.”
Gwen wanted desperately to tell the man she wasn’t his daughter. That he was wrong. But knew that wouldn’t work. She glanced at Tanner, and her heart squeezed so tight it nearly burst. The look of pure devastation tightening his face nearly killed her.
Thank God for Kade. He stepped behind Tanner and set a hand on his shoulder as he stared at the angry guest. “Calm down, Chief. That’s a little harsh.”
“No. It’s not. Come on, Chrissie.” Barry tugged again.
She wanted to protest, but Tanner shook his head.
Jordan stepped close. “I’ll take you home. I believe Chrissie’s car is in the shop.”
Considering Gwen had returned her rental because she really had no use for a car, and Barry had arrived with Tanner, yeah, a ride was definitely needed to get the confused man home.
With one last look at her cowboy, she did her best to tell him she was sorry. The poor guy stared woodenly at her and nodded again. She knew that look. Safe mode. As she turned to leave, she had trouble breathing past her tight chest. She’d never felt so damn helpless.
This was exactly what Barry had wanted to avoid. She felt bad for him, too. But he would never know, because Tanner would never allow it. The kind cowboy would also never forget it.
Two hours later, Gwen sat in Barry’s kitchen, while the man took a nap on the couch. Her chest still hurt at the memory of Tanner’s face earlier. His mentor was like a father, so to hear the man call him trash had to hurt like hell.
She blinked back tears. Life sucked sometimes.
The sound of the front door closing met her ears.
Tanner?
She’d texted him a half-hour ago when he’d asked how things were going. He’d told her he thought it best if he stayed away until his mentor was…better.
Another second went by, but no one entered the kitchen. Her heart stopped.
Barry.
She shot to her feet and rushed into the living room to find the couch empty. Dammit! He’d been the one to open the door. Gwen raced outside, scanning the long driveway and fields.
Nothing.
“Barry?” she called, rushing to the side of the house. Again, nothing. Just the barn. “Hello?” She pushed through the barn door and screamed. “Barry, don’t!”
Standing on a big, upside down bucket, he was tossing a noose around a wooden beam. “Go away! I have to do this, Gwen. It’s the only way. No one will listen. No one will listen.”
She lunged for the rope and yanked it from him. “I’ll listen, Barry. I’ll listen.” She held out her hand to him. “Please, come down and talk to me.”
With a reluctant sigh, he took her hand, stepped down, then sank to his knees and sobbed. Tossing the rope across the barn, she sat beside him, her legs too shaky to stand.
“I’m listening,” she said, putting her arm around him.
“I had another episode again today, didn’t I? Last I remember, we were at the Dalton’s barbeque. Then I woke up, a
nd I’m at home.” Confusion etched his anguished face. “I can’t remember things. Or faces. Or people. I have missing time. Don’t remember how I get to places. And I’m only going to get worse.” He glanced at her. “Where’s Tanner?”
She hesitated, trying to figure out how best to answer.
He must’ve seen the inner battle in her expression, because he let out a curse and slumped against her. “What did I do?”
Again, she was faced with a dilemma. Hard truth, or easy lie. In the end, honesty won out. “You wanted to leave the party without him,” she told him, omitting the rest. She saw no reason to make him feel any worse.
Tears spilled down his face. “I don’t remember. It happens a lot. There are gaps. I start off in one place, then I wake from a nap and I find it’s hours later, and I’m somewhere else.” He reached up and covered the hand she had wrapped around his shoulder. “I’m scared, Gwen. What if I walk outside and get lost? And no one finds me.”
Her heart cracked open for the man. She couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. Genuine fear clouded his gaze. She squeezed him. “Maybe Tanner should move in.” She didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t really her place, but she still felt he deserved to have someone listen to his fears.
He released her hand and shook his head. “I don’t want to be a burden on him. And I refuse to live in fear. The best place for me is in a home, so I can’t wander off. And as I slowly slip away and remember people less and less, I’ll still be taken care of without saddling those I care about most.” He turned to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to ask you one last time, Gwen. Will you please take me to a home?”
Her chest hurt so bad, she could barely breathe. He was asking her to betray Tanner. She thought of calling him, but he’d refuse Barry’s request. And that would lead to something much worse.
“I won’t live like this anymore. I’m done. I mean it. I’m done,” he repeated, gaze determined and resolute.
Not a warning. A promise. This suicide attempt would not be his last if he was left alone.
Gwen didn’t want to betray Tanner. She loved him. But he would never know, never believe her, never talk to her again if she took Barry to a home.
Still, the alternative was worse. Her friend’s mother had gone that route, and Jane had never recovered from the guilt.
