And Then You Kiss (Crested Butte Cowboys Series Book 3)

by Heather A Buchman

  “Wait,” she screamed at him. She reached the passenger door before he could lock it, and she climbed inside.

  “Tucker, please,” she begged. “Let me explain.”

  “Get out of the truck Rosa. Get out of the fucking truck.”

  “I won’t,” she insisted. “We have to talk, you have to understand…I love him.”

  Tucker couldn’t think straight. She loved someone, and it wasn’t him. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t want to. How could Rosa love someone else?

  He yelled more, telling her to get out of the truck. He looked up and saw the man walking out of the shadow of the darkness. He couldn’t do this now. If he got anywhere near him he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Right now he felt like killing him.

  “Get out of the truck Rosa,” he screamed at her. “If you don’t, I’m leaving with you in it.”

  “Do it then,” she screamed back at him.

  Tucker backed the truck out of the driveway and sped away. He couldn’t look back, he couldn’t see who it was. He didn’t know what he’d do if he did.

  “Tucker please,” she begged him. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Tucker didn’t want to listen to her, he didn’t want to hear this. She was ripping his heart right out of his chest. He wouldn’t answer her. He drove faster and faster on the winding mountain road.

  He was going around a curve when she pulled at his arm, trying to get him to look at her. He lost control of the truck and it barreled off the road, and rolled. He looked at Rosa, her eyes were filled with terror, and looking straight into his.

  “I looked at her Blythe, right before the truck rolled. The look in her eyes…I’ll never forget. She looked at me like I was supposed to save her, and I couldn’t.

  “She didn’t live Blythe. She died. And it was my fault. Do you understand? It was my fault. I killed her that night, the only woman I ever loved. Until you.”

  Tears were rolling down Blythe’s cheeks as she listened to Tucker. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but she wanted him to finish, to say everything he needed to say. If she interrupted him, he might never ever be able to tell her the rest of the story.

  “I had internal injuries that required emergency surgery, and I ended up in the hospital for several days. Her family came to the hospital one night, but waited until my parents left before they came in the room. Her father was in an angry rage. That I could deal with. But her mother, her rage was quieter, and far worse. The things she said to me…I’ll never forget them.”

  “What did she say?” Blythe whispered.

  “She cursed me. Screamed that I would never find love, never know love because I didn’t deserve it. She told me that even Rosa didn’t love me, but she’d been too afraid to tell me. She told me Rosa had always been afraid of me.

  “I didn’t understand it. Rosa never acted as though she was afraid of me. I was so confused, and heartbroken. I didn’t understand.

  “Her mother told me that Rosa had wanted to get away from me for months, but she was afraid of what I’d do when I found out she was in love with someone else. And then she told me Rosa loved someone close to me, and knew if she told me, I’d kill him.”

  Tucker was crying, and the final words he said came out as a sob. “I guess she was right, because when I saw her with another man, I did want to kill him. I honestly did. And that’s why I was leaving, because I was afraid of that kind of rage. I wouldn’t have hurt her, but I might have hurt him, whoever he was.”

  Blythe reached out her hand to him. He wanted to take it, he wanted to let her hold him, but he needed to finish.

  “When I got out of the hospital, I lashed out at all of my friends. I knew it had to be one of them. I accused them all, I wanted to force them to tell me who it was, but no one would. I swore all of them off, swore I’d never talk to any of them again. The only one I didn’t was Chris, who you met at Django’s. He and his wife, Kate, have been together since high school. Kate told me that Chris had been with her that night, and I knew she wouldn’t lie about it. If she thought Chris had been unfaithful to her, she would’ve been in as much of a rage as I was.”

  “That’s why you’re such close friends.”

  “He was the only one I trusted. And Jace. They became the only people I’d talk to, other than my parents. I had to get away from Aspen. Everyone I saw, I wondered if he was the man with her that night, the man she fell in love with.”

  After graduation, which he didn’t attend, he left for Europe. He went to art school in Spain, and decided to make his home there. He came back to the States for holidays, but was always anxious to leave again. When he was in Aspen, he only saw his family, and occasionally Chris and Kate. Then he’d return to Europe.

  It wasn’t long before his work became known and US galleries were clamoring to represent him. He’d been coming back more often in the last couple of years, but he still had no desire to live here again.

  “Jace and I have a condo in Aspen, but I’m almost never there. It has my art in it, the pieces I’ve given to Jace, or the ones I haven’t wanted to sell. In the last three years, I don’t think I’ve slept there more than a dozen times.”

  “Spain is your escape.”

  “It has been.”

  “Is that where you were?”

  “No, it isn’t. I would’ve been too easy to find. I went to Mexico.”

  Blythe was taking it all in. He could see her processing the story he was telling her.

  “When I came back before Thanksgiving, I had been feeling as though my life was meaningless. I wanted love, the kind of love my parents have, the kind that since Rosa died, I never believed I could have. I knew it was too much to hope for. I expected life to continue the way it had been. A series of affairs with women I lost interest in after a handful of times of being with them.

  “And then there you were. You with your violet eyes and obstinate attitude. The minute I saw you, I wanted you, and I knew it wouldn’t be meaningless between us. I could feel you. It was immediate. We connected, and I know you felt it too.”

  Tucker moved his chair closer to the bed. He wanted to hold her, but he wasn’t finished. He had to finish.

  “I didn’t plan to leave on Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to get away, push Rosa out of my head, and come back in to you. But once I started driving, I kept going. Leaving is what I knew, what I know. And up until this last time, it was always Spain I ran to.”

  He told her he painted her every day when he was in Spain. He was with her less than twenty-four hours, but he could still remember everything about her. He told her he painted her hands, the curve of her spine, her smile.

  “They’re all still in my house. I have a home in San Sebastian, it’s a seaside village on the Bay of Biscay. It’s in Northern Spain, very close to the border of France.”

  He inched closer still, taking both her hands in his. “When Jace told me he planned to see you in January, I knew I had to come back. You are the first woman I’ve felt anything for since Rosa. For a while I didn’t think I would ever feel anything again, especially love. I didn’t think it was possible.”

  He stood and she moved over, so there was room for him. He gently climbed in next to her and put his arm around her, bringing her closer to him.

  “When Bree’s husband died, I saw how you took on all her pain. You swallowed it; you carried it for her. Whatever Bree was going through, you felt. I was so worried that if I told you my story, you would do the same. I wanted to tell you, but it was so soon. The funeral was that same day. It would have been selfish for me to burden you with my pain, my damage, as Jace calls it. But I knew if there was going to be anything more between us, and I wanted there to be, I needed to tell you.”

  He was torn, which is why he was acting the way he was. He’d wanted to go to Aspen, to think, but he was afraid if he did, he’d head right back to Spain. Then, the worst thing he could ever imagine happened.

  “The accident,” she
whispered.

  “I woke up. I saw you. Your back was to me and I couldn’t tell if you were breathing or not. The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed. Again.

  “Rosa’s mother’s words came screaming back at me. She told me I’d never know love because I didn’t deserve it. You know, I’ve never told anyone else what she said to me that night. I never told my parents or Jace that Rosa’s parents even came to see me in the hospital.”

  That was why Jace didn’t understand, why no one understood. They thought he couldn’t let go of Rosa, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t about letting go, it was about believing in the future. That was the part he couldn’t let himself do.

  “You have no idea how hard it is for me to believe it now. Every part of me is terrified that with me in your life, something will happen to you, and now, to the baby.

  “That’s why I left. I believed you were better off, safer, without me in your life. But a couple nights ago, when they brought you here, I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. I couldn’t stop myself from calling Jace. I had to know what had happened. The only other two times in my life I felt that way were when Rosa looked at me, right before the accident, and again, when you did.”

  Blythe shifted so she could get her arm further around him, hold him tighter.

  “All Jace said was that I needed to get here, as fast as I could, because I was about to lose my baby. What that did to me Blythe…I can’t even describe how I felt. Hope mixed with the worst kind of dread I could imagine. If something happened to our baby, because of me, I don’t think I would’ve been able to go on. I still feel that way.”

  Blythe, who hadn’t said much, looked up at him. He knew she wanted to say something, but she seemed to be having trouble finding the words.

  “What is it? Ask me, tell me. Whatever it is, I can take it. Even if you say you don’t want me here. I can take it Blythe.”

  “Tucker—you have to trust me.”

  How he wanted to believe it was that simple. He wanted to let himself love her—but the risk. That was what he struggled with. If he left now, and stayed out of their lives, she’d be okay, she’d raise the baby, find love, live a full and wonderful life. If he stayed, he didn’t know what might happen.

  “I don’t see it that way at all,” she said. “I see a man who loved someone very much, who was hurt to his core, and then there was a terrible accident. And that’s what it was Tucker, it was an accident.”

  He shook his head, but Blythe put her fingers to his mouth to quiet him.

  “What about Rosa? Tucker, she was with another man. She loved another man. How was that your doing? Whatever she believed, or told her parents she believed, was born of her own guilt, not of who you are. You are not a violent man, there isn’t anything about you that is violent. You are deep, and complex, and mysterious—but you’re not violent.

  “You’re right, I felt you, immediately. If you had told me this story that first night, when we had dinner, I would’ve said the same thing. I would’ve told you then that I didn’t believe you had that kind of anger inside you.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I do.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Blythe reached for his hand. “Feel him,” she said, bringing his hand to where hers rested on their baby. “You made him, and he’s perfect. He’s everything that’s good in this world Tucker. And he lived. Against all odds, he lived.”

  She kissed the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Tucker, he’s here to prove to you that you’re wrong about how you see yourself.”

  “But what if I’m not wrong? What if—”

  “No Tucker, there are no ‘what ifs.’ You have to trust us.”

  “And what if I can’t take care of you? What if something happens to you because of me?”

  “Tucker, listen to me. You have to trust us. Believe in us. It isn’t all up to you. We’ll take care of each other, all of us.”

  ***

  Jace felt it. He knew Tucker told Blythe about Rosa. He was driving back from Crested Butte when it hit him. Now it was his turn. He had his own story to tell, and it would likely rip their lives to shreds.

  Chapter 18

  Jace pulled in the driveway, and saw Bree sitting on the front porch. It looked as though she was reading a book. He didn’t know why he came here, and he didn’t know who he expected to find here when he did. Was he looking for Lyric? Or Bree?

  There was something that told him Lyric would go easy on him. If he told her the story, she wouldn’t judge him. Maybe he was a fool for thinking so.

  “Hey there,” he said as he got out of his truck. “Gettin’ a little cold for you to be sittin’ out here isn’t it?”

  “I got caught up in my book I guess. I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

  He walked up to where she was on the porch and she stood. “Where’s Lyric?”

  “She had some family stuff to take care of, but asked me to let her know if she was needed here and she’d come back.”

  “Goin’ inside now?”

  “Yeah, I think I will.”

  He walked her to the front door, and held it open for her to go in.

  “Uh, do you want to come in?”

  “I would.”

  Bree dropped her book on the island in the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. “We don’t have much to eat. I could make you sandwich or something.”

  “Nah, thanks, I’m not hungry.”

  “Somethin’ to drink?”

  “A beer would be nice, if you’ve got one.”

  She pulled one out and handed it to him. There was still some white wine left in the bottle she’d opened a couple nights before. She poured herself a glass and followed him into the living room. She started to sit in one of the chairs when Jace motioned her over and patted the seat of the couch next to him.

  “Come over here and sit next to me.”

  “Jace—”

  “Bree, come and sit down.”

  When Jace woke up later, he had no idea what time it was. Bree was out cold on the couch next to him. They must’ve fallen asleep. He eased himself out from under her, reached down and picked her up. She felt as though she didn’t weigh a thing. He carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the unmade bed. When he pulled the covers over her, she stirred.

  “Don’t go,” she murmured. He wondered if she knew she said it, or if she was dreaming. He stood to leave and she touched his hand. “Jace, please don’t go.”

  He toed off his boots and stretched out on the bed next to her. She moved closer to him and rested her head in the crook of his arm. He held her close and they both fell back to sleep.

  ***

  Blythe woke with a start. She didn’t see Tucker, but a nurse was checking her blood pressure.

  “Um, did you see, uh, my boyfriend anywhere?” she asked the nurse.

  “He left about an hour ago. He said he’d be back later this morning.”

  He must have wanted to sleep in a bed, not on the corner of a hospital bed. She fell back asleep.

  ***

  Jace woke up and looked at the clock. It was a little after five in the morning. His arm was asleep where Bree rested on it. They’d fallen asleep that way, and neither of them moved. He was so stiff, he doubted he could.

  Bree felt so warm against him, in contrast to the coldness he felt building in his chest. Something was wrong, and as much as he wanted to stay huddled in her warmth and ignore it, he knew he couldn’t.

  He eased his arm out from under her, and off of the bed. He hated to leave her this way, but the feeling of dread was not going away. If something had happened to Blythe, or the baby, he needed to know. He hoped and prayed that wasn’t it.

  ***

  When Bree woke up, she was alone, and in her bed. She remembered falling asleep on the couch, with Jace. Had she dreamt that he brought her into her bedroom, or had she walked in herself and didn’t remember?

  She could swear she asked him to
stay with her. When she closed her eyes, she could feel him holding her as she fell back asleep. She must have dreamt it. Disappointment washed over her, but why? There was nothing between her and Jace, other than a shared love of her sister. They’d comforted each other in the absence of anyone else who could. As by default.

  ***

  Jace took the back way from Palmer Lake to Mount Herman Road. He didn’t know the way; he kept heading southwest, toward the mountain.

  It wasn’t long after the road turned to gravel that he saw another truck. He pulled up behind it; it didn’t look as though anyone was in it.

  This was the sight of the accident. Jace remembered this curve; he could still see the scars it had left on the hillside.

  He parked, and as he climbed out, he saw Tucker further up the hill. Jace made his way up the rocky terrain to where his brother sat on a big rock, head in his hands.

  “Tucker,” he said. “I’m here.”

  Tucker looked up at him, but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to, Jace could feel his anguish. He sat down next to him, and waited.

  It wasn’t long before Tucker spoke. “She asked me to trust her,” he said. “I want to. I want to so much. I don’t know how to let myself.”

  “Let go Tuck. Quit holding on so tight to something that isn’t there anymore.”

  “I don’t know if I ever loved her, or if it’s turned into something so much bigger than it was.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “I remember.”

  “Then how can you say you don’t know?”

  “I wasn’t sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was your feelings or my own.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tucker—”

  “Fuck.”

  After all these years, the truth about that night was finally working its way to the surface.

  Tucker walked toward the truck. He wasn’t sure he could drive, but he knew he couldn’t stay here with Jace. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, and when they finished landing, he didn’t want Jace to be anywhere near him.