She shook her head. “Sometimes the price is just too steep.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. She drew strength from his touch.
“I—I told him—” her throat grew thick as she pushed through “—that there wasn’t anything that he could say or do to get me to come home.”
Another tear splashed onto her cheek. She sniffled and ran the back of her hand over her cheeks. Why had she been so stubborn? So determined that she was right?
She pulled her hand from Jax’s, no longer feeling worthy of his understanding. And he’d have no choice but to agree once she told him the price of her independence.
Her voice cracked with emotion. “Those were the last words I spoke to him.”
She stared straight ahead at the desert, not wanting to see the look of disgust in Jax’s eyes. She wouldn’t be able to finish if she looked at him.
“The line... It went dead. I thought he’d hung up on me. I thought... Oh, it doesn’t matter.” She sniffled, trying to maintain a bit of composure. “I found out later...that he’d blown through a stop sign. He...he was broadsided.”
Jax leaned forward, squeezing her shoulder. “It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”
“But it didn’t.” She turned to Jax. “If I hadn’t been arguing with him, he wouldn’t have been distracted. He always obeyed stop signs. This is all on me.”
“How do you know that he wasn’t tired? Or he hadn’t been distracted by something falling off the dashboard or the seat. Maybe he reached over to pick it up.”
She shook her head, taking a second to collect herself. “I know what happened because there was an investigation. The police determined he was talking to me at the time of the accident.”
“I’m sorry, Cleo. But this isn’t your fault.”
“My mother would disagree. She totally flipped out on me. She ordered me out of the funeral home. She said as far as she was concerned, she...she had no daughter.”
“She didn’t mean it—”
By now the tears were running unleashed. “Yes, she did. I was banished from Hope Springs. I tried to call a couple of times after that, but she hung up.”
“She was in shock and mourning the loss of your father. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
“Even my brothers have changed. They speak to me, but it’s not the same. Nothing is the same. Everyone blames me and they’re right. This is my punishment.”
Jax placed a finger beneath her chin and turned her head until she was facing him. “None of them had any right to lay this at your feet. You didn’t know he was on the phone while driving. Not to speak ill of the dead, but the decision to talk on the phone while driving is all on him. And second, he didn’t have a right to demand you come home.”
Had she heard Jax correctly? Wait. This wasn’t the way she thought this conversation would go.
“You don’t blame me?”
“Of course not. And if your mother had been thinking clearly, she wouldn’t have blamed you, either. It was an accident. And no one person was to blame. It was a culmination of events.”
She wanted to believe him—wanted to shed the weight of guilt that had kept her isolated in Las Vegas through the lonely holidays, missing how her brothers would gather around the tree on Christmas Eve passing out gifts. And later how they’d argue over who got to carve the turkey.
Cleo blinked repeatedly. She might not have wanted to be a rancher, but that didn’t mean she wanted to walk away from her family. She just wanted them to respect that she was grown-up now and fully capable of making her own choices on where she lived and how she lived her life. In her worst nightmare, she never dreamed she’d be labeled a black sheep and banished from her home.
“Remember when you were a kid, you always had your head in the clouds.” Jax looked her in the eye. “You dreamed about those fancy fashion shows and how you wanted to travel to Milan and Paris. I never saw anyone who liked clothes as much as you.”
She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “You remember that?”
“Those days that you’d sit and talk about places you’d learned about in one of your magazines taught me something important. You made me realize I could dream bigger than Hope Springs.”
“I thought you were bored stiff listening to me.”
“Not at all. You were like a breath of fresh air after hearing my father rant on and on about all of the injustices in this world.” Jax leaned toward her. “You don’t know how much I enjoyed our talks down by the creek.”
“You mean when you were supposed to be fishing. And I was supposed to be quiet so as not to scare off the fish.” They shared a smile.
“But you were so much more interesting.” He leaned closer. “I had a hard time keeping my attention on my fishing pole. I’m lucky a big fish didn’t swim off with it because you were all I could think about.”
He’d noticed her? How had she missed the signs?
His fingers stroked her cheek. “But you were far too young and most definitely off-limits back then.”
“And now?” Where had that question come from?
“And now I can do this...”
His hand slipped down to cup her neck. Could he feel the way he made her pulse jump? Did he know in that moment she couldn’t think of anything but him?
With mere inches between them, she wondered if he’d put her out of her misery and kiss her. Her gaze moved from his tempting lips to his eyes. They were dark with a definite glint of interest in them.
Her heart pounded so loud that it was the only sound she could hear. Logic fled her. Instead she mentally willed him closer. Her eyelids slid shut as her anticipation grew.
And then he was there. His lips tentatively pressed to hers.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. This was like an out-of-body experience where her body did what it desired and she sat back luxuriating in the most exquisite sensations. She didn’t think it was possible but with each kiss, they got better. She wasn’t sure how he could improve on perfection, but somehow he did.
She leaned into his kiss, meeting his hunger with her own. Her head spun and she didn’t want this moment to end. She reached out to him, wanting to pull him closer, but the darn seat belts did their jobs and restrained them, as did the cat carrier in her lap.
Charlie meowed his protest at being jostled around. They pulled apart. But Jax’s gaze held hers and she wanted to know what he was thinking—what he was feeling. But a louder protest from the cat carrier drew her attention.
She squeezed her fingers past the metal bars, trying to soothe Charlie. “It’s okay, boy. I didn’t mean to bounce you around.”
Jax shifted the SUV into gear. “You know if it wasn’t for you and your dreams, I never would have dared to imagine another life for myself. I’d have most likely given up on school and ended up just as disillusioned about life as my father. It’s hard to tell where I’d be now.”
She smiled through her tears. “You probably wouldn’t be sitting on the side of the road with a crying woman who’s holding a cat on her lap.”
“Probably not. But right now, I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be.”
Jax eased back onto the roadway and they headed north to their five-star getaway. Her stomach quivered as she wondered where they went from here. Was this all some sort of sympathy? Or was there a deeper meaning to that kiss?
CHAPTER TEN
TREAD CAREFULLY.
After a week of sharing the mansion, Jax found himself susceptible to Cleo’s enchanting spell. He’d found her fascinating as a kid, and as a woman, she was near irresistible. But no matter how sweet and enticing she may be, he couldn’t keep finding excuses to touch her—to kiss her. The best thing he could do was find a way to reunite her with her family.
But first, he had somethi
ng he had to do. He was tired of waiting for the doctor’s office to call. He could only figure they’d lost his new number and that was why they hadn’t called with his test results.
He glanced around for Cleo. Not finding any signs of her, he grabbed the cell phone from the kitchen counter and dialed the familiar number. After two rings, it switched to a prerecorded message announcing the doctor was out of the office for the next week.
Jax cursed under his breath and resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. Of all the times for the doctor to have a personal life, why did it have to be now?
The distinct sound of Cleo’s crutches echoed down the hall. He cleared the number and placed the phone back on the counter. He’d just turned around when she entered the room.
She stopped in front of him with a frown marring her beautiful face. “Have you seen Charlie?”
“I wasn’t exactly looking for him. Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s just usually wherever I am, and I haven’t seen him since first thing this morning.”
“In a house this size it wouldn’t be hard for him to find a hiding spot.”
A frown settled on her face. “I know, but I just worry.”
She fussed over that cat like a mother caring for a young child. The image of her holding a baby in her arms came to mind. That was yet another reason why they shouldn’t be playing house.
Jax shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll...um, go look around for him. Why don’t you sit down? You know what the doctor said about resting.”
“How could I forget? You remind me every day.” She started toward the family room before calling over her shoulder, “While you’re upstairs would you mind grabbing the blue tote bag from my bedroom?”
“Your wish is my command.”
He took the steps two at a time. His gaze scanned the hallway for any sign of the feline. How in the world was he going to find a little cat in this big house? He’d probably found a nice dark corner to take a catnap.
But first Jax needed to get the bag for Cleo. He worried that she was overdoing it and he didn’t want her to reinjure herself. He told himself that it was no more care than he’d give to a coworker or neighbor... But then again he wouldn’t be kissing them. And with each passing day it was getting harder to keep Cleo at arm’s length.
Not only was he painfully attracted to her, but her passion for life made him want to set out on a new adventure. He found himself daydreaming about having a full life—no longer spending his days chained to a desk and computer. His thoughts trailed back to Hope Springs with its wide-open spaces and its endless possibilities. But most of all, he envisioned Cleo by his side.
However, for that to happen, he’d have to sentence her to an eventual life of caring for an ill man with a tenuous future—only to wind up a young widow. Cold fingers of apprehension gripped his throat, cutting off his breath. He refused to do that to Cleo. He banished the unsettling thoughts to the back of his mind. No matter how tempting a life with her might seem, he couldn’t put her in that horrendous situation.
With the blue bag in hand, he returned to the family room, where Cleo had turned on the big-screen TV. A fashion design competition was on. “I take it you still enjoy clothes.”
She nodded while rummaging through the oversize bag and pulling out a sketch pad and a pack of pencils.
“Some things don’t change.”
“Did you find Charlie?” She glanced at him expectantly.
He’d forgotten about the furball. Where in the world did he even begin to look for the cat?
As though reading his mind, Cleo said, “You’ll have to get down on all fours. He likes to nap in cozy, dark spots.”
Jax expelled a sigh. He might as well start in here. “Here kitty, kitty.”
He crawled around on the floor looking under every piece of furniture in the room. There was no cat to be found.
Jax sat up on his knees next to Cleo. “He isn’t in here.” His gaze moved to the sketch pad in her hands. “What are you doing?”
She jerked the pad against her chest. “Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“You’ll just laugh.”
“Why would I laugh? Obviously you’re drawing something that’s important to you. I’m just curious what it is.”
Her shoulders drooped and the lines in her face eased. “It’s just that when I was growing up my brothers would always poke fun at my drawings. I guess I didn’t realize, until now, how touchy I’ve become.”
“Can I see? I promise to be on my best behavior.”
Her mouth pulled to the side as she thought it over before she nodded. When she turned the pad around, he sat up straighter, truly interested. There was the outline of a woman with no face, but the details were in the soft pink dress with a long skirt and a halter-style top.
“That’s impressive.” He meant it. “Instead of going to college to become an accountant, you should have considered pursuing art.”
“You really think it’s that good.”
He nodded. “If I had to draw it, there’d be a stick figure on the page. It wouldn’t be that good of one, either. And as for the clothes, um...do rectangles and squares count?”
“I don’t think so. They’d be awfully uncomfortable.”
The rays from Cleo’s smile filled his chest with warmth. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how empty his life had been, even before the cancer. Sure, he had his work, and his amazing success at such a young age was very rewarding. But when he returned to his apartment in the evenings, it was dark and empty. There wasn’t so much as a fish or a Charlie waiting for him.
He didn’t know how he’d ever go back to that solitary life after sharing this place with Cleo...and her furball. The cat really wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, he rather liked the little guy, which was probably a good thing since the cat had taken to snuggling up on his chest when he was sleeping. He’d surprisingly grown used to Charlie’s nightly visits.
Jax knew he was setting himself up for a fall because this arrangement was not permanent—no matter how much he might like it to be otherwise. But he had resolved not to fight it. There was no harm in enjoying Cleo’s company—as long as he kept his hands to himself.
“So what do you do with your drawings?”
“Actually they are sketches of clothes I plan to make.” Her eyes never left his, as though she was anxious to gauge his reaction. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I don’t know what to say except...wow! You’re a lady of many talents.”
“You’re really impressed?”
“Of course I am. Did you make what you’re wearing now?”
His gaze moved to the pink-and-white tiny T-shirt and gray sweat shorts. It didn’t matter what she wore, she always looked beautiful.
Cleo shook her head. “I only make dress clothes like the ones you saw me in at the Glamour Hotel.”
“Have you been doing this for long?”
She nodded. “My grandmother taught me how to sew at an early age. She was a very patient woman. More so than I could ever hope to be.”
He glanced through her sketchbook. Each drawing was more impressive than the last. “Have you sent these out to professionals?”
Color infused her cheeks. “I couldn’t do that.”
He caught the uncertainty in her eyes. “I’m no expert, but I think you should follow your dream. If you want I can make some calls.”
“No!” She grabbed the sketch pad from him. “I already know my clothes aren’t good enough. I’ve been told they’re too frivolous. It’d be a waste of time.”
Anger warmed his veins. “And who told you that?”
“My parents. They said that if I insisted on going to college that I must take up a skill that was practical and
would eventually provide me with a substantial income when I finished.”
He wanted to argue with her and those misconceptions that her parents drilled into her head. They had stolen her dreams. And now he was determined to find a way to give them back to her.
Jax sat down on the carpet and leaned an elbow on the couch near Cleo’s pink-painted toes. “Boy, your parents were more set in their ways than I ever imagined.”
“Now you’re seeing why I moved across the country for college and why I was arguing with my father...”
Not wanting her to return to that dark, quiet place where she locked him out, he said, “So this sketch, is it an outfit for yourself?”
Her gaze snapped back from that faraway look. “Um...no. It’s actually for Robyn. She’s always going on about my clothes and how pretty they are, which is so sweet. Anyway she wanted me to make an outfit for her. It’s nice to have someone appreciate my efforts.”
If Cleo ever hoped to make peace with her mother, she had to lighten up on her. Maybe he could try to help bridge that gap. He hated the thought of Cleo with no family. He wouldn’t wish a solitary existence on anyone, especially when he knew as sure as he was sitting there that deep down where it counted, her mother loved her.
“Cleo, did you ever think that maybe your parents saw your fashion magazines and your high-class creations as a rejection of the life they chose to lead? Or maybe they were afraid that if they encouraged you to follow your dreams that you’d up and leave Hope Springs—leave them.”
A light shone in her eyes. “But I never looked down on them or the ranch. It’s my...was my home.”
“But every time you complained about having to ride the fence line or feed the herd, maybe they took it as a strike against their lifestyle. I’m not saying it was right what they said or how they made you feel, but maybe they thought if you lost interest in fashion that you would realize the ranch was the right place for you.”
Cleo’s fine brows arched. “You really think that’s what it was about?”
The Return of the Rebel Page 10
