He felt as if he had been sliced in half, and he had no idea why or even what had gone wrong. All he knew was that he needed to get out of there now, while he could still function.
Before he couldn’t move.
“All right,” he told her stiffly, “I won’t.”
It was the last thing he said to her before he walked out.
His voice echoed in the stable long after he left. Just as long as she went on crying.
Chapter Seventeen
It’s better this way. It’s better this way, you know that. Better to stop this now, before you give away your heart. You know what happens after that.
Chloe kept telling herself that over and over again, and while she believed she had done the right thing, that still didn’t make it any easier for her to live with. She tried to keep as busy as possible, but a sadness saturated her every waking moment.
Especially the evenings, which now seemed to last twice as long as they used to.
But the hardest part was running into Chance. Their paths seemed to cross a lot less than they used to, but when they did, she felt an unbearable pain, as if she’d been stabbed by a sword with rusty, jagged edges every time she realized that he was there, somewhere near her space.
When was it going to get better? When was the pain going to go away? She had broken things off with Chance to avoid being hurt and yet, that was exactly what was happening. Pain, raw and devastating, was eating her up from the inside out.
In its own way, this was every bit as difficult to endure as when she’d found that Donnie was no longer going to be part of her life, that he’d never be coming back to her.
Chloe began to second-guess herself. Had she acted too rashly? In trying to avoid heartache, had she unwittingly opened the door and allowed heartache to come into her life?
Chloe had no answers, only more questions.
* * *
“How come you don’t go riding with Ms. Elliott anymore?” Brandon asked out of the blue one afternoon as he and Chance were in the corral, working on taming a new addition to the herd that Graham had just bought.
Chance had picked Brandon to help him because the teen showed the most promise when it came to working with the horses. His hostility finally under control, Brandon was usually on the quiet side. But that obviously wasn’t the case today.
“That’s not a question you should be asking me,” Chance told him.
“I thought you told me that I could ask you anything,” Brandon said innocently.
The horse was fighting the bit he was trying to put into its mouth. For the moment, Chance stopped to look at Brandon. “About your own life, not mine.”
“Well, since I’ve been here, you’ve become part of my life,” Brandon pointed out. “You and Miss Elliott.” Determined to get an answer, he tried again. “So how come you don’t go riding together anymore?”
“It’s just better this way,” Chance told the teen dismissively, hoping that would be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
“Doesn’t seem better,” Brandon observed after several minutes. He stroked the stallion’s muzzle, doing what he could to keep the animal calm as Chance made another attempt to put the bit into the stallion’s mouth. “Seems like both of you look real unhappy. If things were better, you two wouldn’t look like that.”
Chance sighed. No arguing with that, he thought. “It’s complicated.”
“That’s what people say when they don’t want to talk about something—or admit that they’re wrong about something,” Brandon added. “From where I’m sitting,” he continued when Chance made no comment, “it doesn’t look complicated at all. You were happy riding together, and now you’re not riding together and you’re not happy. Seems to me like you were both better off riding.”
The third attempt to get the horse to accept the bit succeeded. Chance paused, not wanting to rush things with the stallion.
“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen,” he told Brandon as he fed the horse a lump of sugar. “Get the blanket.”
Brandon did as he was told, hurrying to the fence where the blanket hung and then back again. He held it out to Chance, along with more advice. “You could tell her you’re sorry.”
Chance handed the reins to the teen and spread the blanket on the horse’s back. The stallion remained relatively still. “What?”
There was a warning note in Chance’s voice, but Brandon pushed on anyway.
“If you made her angry,” Brandon explained, “you could tell her you’re sorry. Women like it when you tell them you’re sorry.”
The assertion by one so young made Chance laugh. “And how would you know that?”
“That’s what my brother told me,” Brandon said matter-of-factly. “You know what else he told me?”
Chance paused. He realized that this was a breakthrough for Brandon. Up until now, the teen hadn’t talked about the brother he’d lost. He’d acted on the anger he felt because of the loss, but he had never mentioned Blake in a day-to-day context, never even referred to him.
There was a momentary tug-of-war within him, and then Chance decided to set aside his need for privacy, putting Brandon’s need to heal and progress ahead of his own. “No, what else did he tell you?”
A distant, wistful look came over the teen’s face as he no doubt thought of his brother. “That if you want something, sometimes you’ve got to fight for it. That if something just falls into your lap, it doesn’t mean nearly as much as it does if you have to go out and fight for it.”
Brandon grew very solemn as he recalled his brother’s words. “That’s what Blake told me when I asked him why he enlisted instead of going to college like he was supposed to. He said he had to fight for what he believed in. Maybe that’s what you need to do,” Brandon concluded, looking at him. “Maybe you need to fight for Miss Elliott.”
Chance shook his head. “I don’t think Miss Elliott wants me to fight for—”
“I think she’s looking pretty sad lately,” Brandon stressed. “And Will said she keeps losing her train of thought during his sessions. Ryan says the same thing,” he added. “Maybe like she’s always saying, you need to talk about it. About whatever it is that made the two of you stop doing what you both liked doing.” The teen gave Chance an encouraging smile. “Might make you both feel better about things if you clear the air.”
Chance looked at the boy he had been trying to reach for weeks now. The boy who had just now tried to reach him instead.
“It just might at that,” he agreed. “But right now, we’ve got a horse to work with.”
“I don’t think he’d mind waiting,” Brandon speculated.
“Get the saddle.” He indicated where he’d placed it on the top rung of the corral. “Always finish a job you start.”
“That’s a good one,” Brandon said, nodding with approval as he went to fetch the saddle. “You might want to remember that one when you go talk to Miss Elliott later,” he suggested.
Chance grinned as he took the saddle from Brandon and placed it carefully on the stallion’s back. The horse tried to pull away, but Brandon was holding firmly on to the bit, keeping the animal in place. Chance slowly tightened the cinch, watching the horse intently.
“I might at that,” Chance agreed.
For the first time since he’d arrived at Peter’s Place, he saw Brandon grin.
* * *
“Come in,” Chloe said in response to the knock on the door of her small office.
When she looked up from her work, she was surprised. Expecting to see one of the boys coming in for what she assumed was an extra session, she found herself looking up at Chance instead.
Her heart leaped, and she felt the definite rush of adrenaline surge through her veins before she managed to tuck it away and get it under co
ntrol. She wasn’t supposed to be reacting to Chance like this anymore, she upbraided herself. Especially since in the days that followed her breaking it off with him, Chance hadn’t attempted to approach her, not even once. That convinced her that her so-called preemptive strike in pushing Chance out of her life before he walked out on her had been the right move. Because if he’d actually cared about her—even a little—he would have at least tried to get back into her life, tried to get her to give him a second chance.
But he hadn’t.
Instead, he’d kept his distance. Even at the table, when they took their meals, he didn’t say even two words to her. A man who cared didn’t behave that way.
A man who was glad things were over, however, did.
Not waiting for Chance to say anything that she might not want to hear, she took the lead. Doing her best to sound cheerful, she said, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
For a moment, because he was still trying to sort his thoughts out and find the right words to say to her, Chance didn’t know what she was referring to. He looked at her, puzzled. “For what?”
“For getting Graham to approve your idea. He seemed very enthusiastic about it,” she added, recalling the look on her brother’s face when he told her the news.
Because of what he’d been going through, Chance had almost forgotten that his proposal had been approved. Graham had gotten the funding, and plans were under way for expanding Peter’s Place to include a military equine therapy center for returning vets. “Oh. Right. Thanks.”
She would have thought that he would be happy about his victory. Why wasn’t he? “Well, you don’t sound like you’re nearly as excited about it as Graham is,” Chloe observed.
“Right now, that’s not the main thing on my mind,” Chance admitted, his eyes meeting hers.
She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. It made her remember. And yearn. She had to keep herself from squirming.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Chloe asked stiffly.
She sounded like a robot, Chance thought. Was it because he was here? He began having second thoughts about the whole thing. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
But he was here now, so he might as well say what he’d come to say. He knew Brandon would ask him about it. Just as he knew that he had to give this one final try so that he knew he had done all he could before giving up on the situation.
On her.
On them.
Here goes nothing. “You can help me understand why you suddenly decided to pull back. I thought things were going pretty well,” he told her, forcing himself to be honest about his feelings. “I realize that I don’t measure up to your late husband, but—”
She stared at him, stunned. “Wait, what? Who told you about Donnie?” she wanted to know. She had never said anything about her late husband to Chance, never mentioned how distraught she’d felt about losing him. How had he found out?
Chance didn’t see how that was the point, but he answered her question. “Sasha told me. Don’t blame her, I made her tell me. I asked if you were involved with anyone. I thought maybe that was why you didn’t want to go riding with me anymore. Or anything else for that matter,” he added meaningfully.
He’d missed being with her more than he could possibly say, but it was hard for him to actually admit that. “She told me that you were devastated by your husband’s death.”
He’d done his homework, contacted people he knew, people he hadn’t spoken to in years and asked questions about the man.
“I know I don’t measure up to him in your eyes, but I don’t want to take his place. I just want to be with you.” She was seated at her desk, and he stood over her now, looking down into her face as he searched for an answer. “Why can’t I be with you?”
“Because you’re perfect,” she blurted out, “and before long, you’ll realize that you can do a lot better than me and you’ll move on. I just can’t take dealing with loss again,” she informed him, sadly adding, “This way is better.”
His thoughts had come to a grinding halt several sentences ago. “Hold it. You think I’m perfect?” he questioned incredulously. “You’re pulling my leg, right? I mean, you can’t be serious.” He was as far from perfect as a man could be, Chance thought.
“Of course I’m serious,” she told him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, for one thing, because I’m not perfect,” he told her with a disparaging laugh. Thinking back on the image he’d portrayed to her, he realized how he might have misled her. “I just wanted you to see the best in me because a really classy lady like you isn’t going to want to be with any ol’ cowboy, especially one that’s got his own set of demons.”
Despite everything, she couldn’t help the smile that rose to her lips. Couldn’t keep it from curving the corners of her mouth.
“Haven’t you heard?” she asked him. “That’s what I do. I exorcise demons.” Her smile faded a little as she grew more serious. “But you never indicated that you were anything but a tall, silent cowboy, the kind that used to be in all those old Westerns that they made in the fifties and sixties.”
“A cowboy, yeah,” he scoffed. “A cowboy who fought overseas.”
Why would he think that changed anything in the way she saw him? “At least you got to come back.”
He didn’t see that as a plus. It was more like his cross to bear. “At times, I really feel that I shouldn’t have.”
That made absolutely no sense to her. “Why?” she cried.
He told her what weighed most heavily on his conscience, something he hadn’t shared with anyone since he’d returned stateside.
“Because I couldn’t save my best friend,” he confessed. “Evan and I had been friends since grammar school. We enlisted together, did everything together.” His mouth felt dry as he relived his friend’s final moments. “Evan got between me and enemy fire. He died in my place, in my arms. And I haven’t been able to find a place for myself since.” Chance took a breath, and then he looked down at her. She had made the difference in his life. “Until I met you.”
“But when I said that we shouldn’t be together, you just accepted it,” she pointed out. “If I meant that much to you, why did you just back off and not even try to get me to change my mind?”
He wasn’t the type to push himself on anyone. “Because that’s what I thought you wanted, and I wanted you to be happy even if I wasn’t.”
That sounded like him, she realized. “What changed your mind?”
He laughed softly to himself before answering. “Brandon.”
“Brandon?” she repeated. Brandon hardly talked now that he had stopped being angry at the world. “What could he have possibly said to change your mind?”
“He noticed how unhappy I looked. How unhappy we both looked,” Chance emphasized. “Then he told me something his brother told him.”
“His brother? He opened up about Blake?” Chloe asked, stunned and excited at this breakthrough. Brandon had been her last holdout.
“Yes, he did. He told me that his brother told him very simply that if he wanted something, really wanted it, he should go for it. Fight for it.” Chance paused, looking at her pointedly. “So this is me, ‘fighting for it.’” He took her hands in his and brought her up to her feet. “Fighting for you.” He drew her into his arms and bent his head, kissing her.
Chance’s kiss felt as if the sun had suddenly come out after days of being hidden behind a dreary rain cloud. This was what she’d missed, what she’d longed for.
What she’d needed.
She kissed Chance with all the bottled-up passion she’d been trying to convince herself she no longer felt. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she clung to him for a moment, her lips sealed to his.
When he finally drew back, he smiled into her eyes.
“Does this mean you’ll go riding with me again?” he asked. There was a trace of mischief in his eyes.
“It does,” she told him.
Maybe he was pushing his luck, but he still wanted to ask. “Does this also mean that you’ll—”
Her eyes danced as she cried, “Yes.”
He laughed. She was getting ahead of herself. “I haven’t finished asking you the question.”
The smile that lit up her features was warm, sunny. And oh, so relieved. “I have an idea I know what’s coming.”
“I have an idea that you don’t,” he told her. He knew he had to get this out before his courage deserted him, and he really wished he had something to give her to seal this moment. “Chloe Elliott, I don’t have much to offer you—”
How could he even think that? “You’re wrong,” she told him. “You have a great deal to offer.”
“Don’t interrupt,” he said. “I have to get this out before I lose my nerve.”
“All right,” she told him, her heart pounding madly. It wasn’t easy for her to keep quiet, but she did her best. “Go on.”
He started again. “I don’t have much to offer you, but I love you and I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy—and to never regret marrying me.” He stumbled a little, his thoughts getting in the way of his tongue. “That is, if you want to marry me.” He blew out a breath. “This isn’t coming out the way I want it to. Talking isn’t what I do best.”
She was nothing if not encouraging. “You’re doing great so far.”
He took a long breath. If he talked any more, he’d mess it up. “I’m finished,” he told her. “You can answer now if you’d like.”
“I like,” Chloe told him with all sincerity. “I like very much.”
Maybe this wasn’t a total disaster after all. “So will you marry me?” he wanted to know.
Her eyes crinkled as she laughed. “What do you think?”
She was drawing this out, and he couldn’t stand the tension pulsating through him. “I think I’m going to have heart failure if you don’t answer me in the next couple of seconds.”
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