Tell Me When It Hurts

by Christine Whitehead

  “When Annie died, I lost my hope. I had all these ties that gave me a place in my world. I was Adam’s wife; I was Annie’s mother; I was a respected lawyer. I had an orbit fixed by all these things that defined me. I lost all those markers at the same time, and I couldn’t cope. But the loss of Annie was like someone came along and erased the future. Nothing mattered anymore.

  “When I met you, I felt like maybe I could set out one little marker again, maybe rejoin the human race. But I got scared. Having some hope again felt like abandoning Annie. I wasn’t supposed to have hope without my child—at least, that’s what I thought. Now I know I had it backwards. Only by my keeping hope can Annie remain here in spirit, be with me in my daily life.

  “I love you, Connor. I should have called you and I should have come earlier. I’ve been a blind fool. You are the knight I’ve been waiting for my whole life—not to rescue me but to love me.”

  Connor listened intently to every word, nodded at points, and then replied, “I do understand, and I’m not trying to exact some price because you did what you needed to do then. But I’ve regrouped, Archer. I can’t go through that again. I need to know you’re sure this is what you want. Not Wyoming—I don’t give a damn about Wyoming; we can go anywhere—but me . . . us. I just can’t trust you—or her,” he said, pointing at Hadley, “or her,” he said, pointing at Allegra. “Will you all be here next month, or will you have packed up and decided it was a big mistake to come out here? I need to sleep on this, Arch. You’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I’m still shell-shocked just to see you. I need some time.”

  Archer looked down at her hands, discouraged.

  “So you’re going to make me wait for an answer?”

  “Just till tomorrow. Give me that, Archer.”

  She bent her head and shook it slowly. Then she looked at him and nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

  Archer turned to go back to Dolly’s ranch for the night, but Connor caught her arm. “Stay. There’s no need to leave now. I have three empty bedrooms. Just pick one, and I’ll go put Allegra in an extra stall.”

  Archer nodded slowly. She selected a room in the back of the house, overlooking the pond and the distant peaks. She watched from the window as Connor took Allegra from the trailer and led her to the barn. Then he pulled away in his truck to pick up some sandwich fixings for an early dinner. They ate together in silence.

  As soon as cleanup was done, Archer turned to go to her room. Before leaving, she said, “McCall, please do me a favor—for old times’ sake?”

  Connor looked at her, eyebrow raised in question.

  “Don’t break my heart slow.”

  * * *

  Archer slept fitfully in the guest room across the hall from Connor, Hadley at the foot of the bed. At four a.m., she got up and pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and zippered fleece. She crept down the stairs and tiptoed into the kitchen to put on some coffee.

  To her surprise, it was already brewed, and Connor was sipping a cup as he stood at the counter looking out the back window. He was already dressed. Alice lay at his feet. He looked up as she entered, and smiled.

  “Hey, didn’t sleep too well?”

  “Couldn’t. Decided I might as well get up. What are you doing up this early?”

  “I couldn’t sleep, either,” he said, reaching for a cup from the cabinet and pouring some coffee for her.

  “Thanks,” she said, and took the steaming mug. She looked at him expectantly. “It’s tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, so it is.” Silence. Archer tilted her head, then motioned for him to continue. Connor looked down, scuffed a foot against the floor, then looked directly at her. “Okay, well, I did some thinking last night about all this. And you know, I thought about the Berkshires and how we met, and I wondered what we should do today. And then I thought about what the weather would be, and that maybe I should just do my normal rounds and we could talk later, and then, well . . .”

  Archer put her mug down, frustration mounting. She turned away to gaze out the window at the green fields as far as she could see. Then she crossed her arms across her chest and, turning back to face him, said very softy, “Connor, just tell me. I’m a big girl; I can take it.”

  “Well, the thing is, I mean, do I have to build a fancy box stall for that Eastern show horse you brought out here, or what? I mean, we’re simple folk out here, and I hope she’ll take to the West after the show circuit and all,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  Archer stood still just long enough for him to put his cup down, then jumped into his arms. He pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground.

  “I’m a pushover, aren’t I? But, damn, you feel good,” he said, burying his face in her hair and kissing her neck. “Should I have held out until dinner?”

  “No, no, no,” Archer replied, flooded with relief. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to take a chance on me again.”

  “Surely you jest. You’re a one-of-a-kind, once-in-a-lifetime find, Archer Loh. Like I’m going to throw you back into the sea for some other guy to find?”

  She laughed and hugged him tighter.

  “Come on, let’s take a little walk. It’s just starting to get light, and someday all this will be yours.”

  Archer laughed again, grabbed her coat, and put her arm through his. He opened the back door, called the dogs, and headed out. Without looking at her as they walked, Connor said, “And how do we get past it, Arch?”

  She turned and looked at him questioningly.

  “Your side job—it is the elephant in the parlor, you know.”

  Archer looked down, then back up, and said jauntily, “We can talk about it later. Yes, it is the elephant in the parlor, but we Hemingway aficionados can handle big game, you know.”

  “It’s serious, Archer, and I am, too. I can live with ghosts. Heck, I even like some ghosts, but I can’t compete with them, and I sure as hell need to know them, because I don’t want to run into them some night by accident.”

  Archer looked down, hands fidgeting.

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why I never said anything, Arch? I didn’t know if you worked alone or were part of a bigger group—still don’t know—and I didn’t know how you learned to do what you do, but I knew you were fighting for your life. And I was too afraid of doing anything that might threaten our being together. But I’ve had time to think. I don’t want to watch you hurt yourself again and again. I love you too much.”

  “I know. It’s over for me, McCall. No regrets, but it’s over for me. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Connor cocked his head but nodded, appearing to accept that answer for now. He shook his head and said, “Fine, Scarlett.”

  He opened his arms, and she turned into them. He kissed her hard before tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder and holding it there. They stood together in a tight embrace for a long time, with little movement or conversation. Archer turned her head up to him, and he kissed her, this time lightly, barely brushing her lips.

  He released her gently, and they turned in unison toward the open field next to the house. They walked holding hands just as four enormous white dogs pranced over, wiggling, never taking their eyes off the herd.

  “So these are the City Girls,” said Archer, delighted.

  “Yep, that’s them. I’m actually thinking of adding Chicago and L.A., given the production of this spring’s breeding program.”

  In the September sunrise, he held her close and said, “God, Archer, I thought I’d lost you forever, but you made me stop being afraid to love. And that helped me find my daughter. As they say, ‘To fear love is to fear life.”

  Archer looked at him quizzically.

  “Not a movie,” he said. “A philosopher—Bertrand Russell.”

  “Deep, McCall, very deep. How long have you been saving that quote to pull out at just the right moment?” she teased back.

  “There’s a lot you still don’t know about me. I’m full of
mysteries that will take you years to unravel—years, I tell you, woman.”

  Silence. Then Archer looked up at Connor and asked, “So, McCall, where does one go to see a movie out here in lovely Little Tempest? And I do mean little.”

  “Just a ways into Jackson, about forty-five minutes from here. Little Tempest isn’t the end of the earth, you know. And—here’s the thing—they have matinees on Wednesdays, kid. How’s that for deluxe living?”

  Archer threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, boy, maybe The African Queen will be playing next week”

  They continued to walk toward the pond behind the house and barn. “So, is this fate, Connor? Was your mother right after all?”

  Connor shook his head but said, “I don’t know, but what do you put on the odds of two people like us meeting on that beautiful mountain, no one for miles, at that particular moment in time? I put my money on my mother and your father setting us up. They probably figured that unless they did something soon, we were both too stubborn to get out of our own way.” He paused and turned to her. “This is it, by the way.”

  Archer looked up at him. “This is what?”

  “My one spectacular moment. When you jumped into my arms, and I knew I really was your choice, that was the moment I’ll never lose. Now I get it. I know what you were talking about.”

  Archer smiled and nodded.

  Connor took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. He gazed at her steadily.

  “Archer Loh,” he said, “there is little in this life I’m sure of, and I seem to know less and less as each year passes. But this much I do know. I’m in love for the first time in my life, and it’s forever.”

  Archer looked back at him, smiling.

  “And I’m in love, too . . . for the last time in my life.”

  Murphy’s Romance.