But he would have told her that day before he left town, if she’d given him the chance.
That was what hurt the most. What kept him silent now. The two of them had known and loved each other for nearly their entire lives. Not once, since he realized at age fifteen how he really felt about her, had he ever even looked at another girl, another woman. Rachel had known that. She’d known how much he loved her.
Yet all it had taken had been a single phone call from a casual friend to make her think the worst of him. To make her believe he had betrayed her. She hadn’t even given him the benefit of the doubt for so much as a minute.
When he’d gone to see her, to explain, she hadn’t said, “Tell me it isn’t true.” She hadn’t said, “I know it can’t be true because you would never cheat on me.” She hadn’t even asked, “Is it true?”
Instead, she had turned him away without a word, without giving him a chance to say anything.
He would have shouted it out to her as she’d stood there on the staircase in her home, but she’d been surrounded by all three of her brothers, and they had been more interested in her wish—that Grady get out of the house and leave—than in letting him say his piece. Besides, he couldn’t have spoken the truth in front of them. There had been too much at risk.
She had spent the past five years hating him, without knowing or caring that he had even more reason to resent her.
So tell her.
But she turned away from him just then and bent to see about his horse, and the moment was lost.
It was just as well, he thought as he followed her. What’s done is done.
That night Rachel couldn’t sleep.
She should have been able to. She’d put in a hard, satisfying day. She’d saved a prize bull from tiny parasites, a cat from cystitis, a fancy French poodle from future unwanted pregnancies, and a beautiful stallion from colic. Not bad for a little girl who only wanted someone to save her pony.
But it was the pony-saver’s son, the stallion’s owner, who kept her awake tonight.
Dammit, she had to get him out of her thoughts. She’d thought for years that she had, but obviously she’d been wrong, and it was past time to do something about that. She wanted him out of her mind once and for all. She wanted to let go of the past.
Yeah, well, what was it Jack always said? “Want in one hand and spit in the other, and see which hand gets filled, kid.”
Throughout the night and the days that followed, it became more than apparent to Rachel just which hand was getting filled.
Chapter Five
Grady had spent the morning on horseback helping Joe move cattle to fresh grass.
Standing Elk wasn’t nearly as big an operation as the Flying Ace; it wasn’t even as large as some of the medium-sized ranches in the county. Ray Lewis had purposely kept the ranch on the small side, because his main business had been the clinic. Still, the four square miles within Standing Elk’s boundaries—including the eighty acres that now belonged to Joe and Alma—had to be managed every bit as carefully as the larger outfits. Even more so in some aspects, such as grazing.
The Wilders’ Flying Ace butted up against the mountains, making it possible for them to move their herd to leased land at cooler, higher elevations during the summer months, sparing the grass down on the home range.
Standing Elk had no such option. The mountains were too far, and there was too much private property to cross to get to them. So they had to watch their grass with as much attention as a buzzard watching the desert floor for his supper. If the cattle ate the grass too far down, an entire pasture—acres and acres of once good grass—could be ruined for years. Forever.
So year after year they moved their cattle from one pasture to another, as he and Joe had just done.
It felt good to work cattle again. In California he’d been a horse trainer. He’d come to realize during the past few years that training horses, rather than treating their diseases and injuries, was what he wanted to do.
They said something good comes out of everything that starts out bad. Well, “they” had been right in his case. He had Cody, and he had his life’s work—horse training.
Still, he had missed working cattle. They’d had only a few head of cattle on the ranch where he had worked in California, only enough to use in working the cow horses and getting them ready for sale. Today was the first time Grady had herded cattle in five years. He was home. It felt just like old times. Even his bad knee had held up pretty good, with nothing more than a twinge to remind him that his rodeo days were, if not over, at least numbered.
As he pulled the saddle from his mare an SUV came down the drive.
More old times, he thought with a twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach as Rachel climbed out of the driver’s seat. For all of two seconds, he forgot. He grinned and took a step toward her. How many times in years past had she come barreling down that drive to see him?
Then he remembered. She wasn’t his anymore. Hadn’t been for years. If she hadn’t already been within earshot he would have cussed a blue streak at his own stupidity. And at her, for showing up here instead of pulling up at the clinic. In disgust, he turned back and continued brushing Gray Ghost.
Behind him he heard Rachel walk up to the corral fence. Heard her footsteps stop.
He kept working.
Finally she spoke. “Good afternoon.”
He didn’t want to be rude. He’d been taught better. But dammit, why did she have to come over here? He’d been purposely staying away from the clinic. It seemed to him she could return the favor and stay away from him.
Apparently she thought differently.
He paused with the brush on Gray Ghost’s back and looked over his shoulder. “What are you doing over here?”
Rachel felt the sting of a blush climb up her cheeks. This wasn’t exactly the greeting she’d expected. But then, she didn’t know what she’d been expecting. She didn’t know what the devil she was doing here. For some reason, it had seemed like a good idea when she’d bypassed the clinic and driven toward the house and barns.
She shook her hair back from her face. Nothing to do now but brazen it out. “I was just coming back from the Johnsons’ and thought I’d drop over and check on my patient.”
“Is that so?”
He might as well have said, “That’s weak, Rachel. Real weak.” Because it was.
Brazen it out, she reminded herself. “Where is Sugarfoot?”
Grady nodded toward the small five-acre pasture south of the corrals.
Rachel followed his gaze and spotted the big black stallion beneath the trees near the back fence line.
Grady let out a shrill whistle. The stallion’s head jerked up.
Rachel couldn’t see from this distance, but she knew those sharp ears had swiveled toward Grady.
Grady let out two whistles this time, and the horse turned and raced across the grass, mane and tail flying out behind him like black flags.
“God, he’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“He is that,” Grady agreed. “I’ll ask again, Rachel. What are you doing here?”
“You sound as if you’d rather I’d fall off the face of the earth,” she said, miffed at his tone.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I just don’t see the point of this little social call.”
Rachel ground her teeth. “Little social call? Is that what you think this is?”
“You tell me.”
“For your information, I came over here to—” To what? she asked herself.
“To what?” Grady demanded, finally coming to stand before her.
The corral fence stood between them. For all Rachel could tell, it might as well have been the Great Wall of China.
“To play games with my head?” Grady demanded. “You don’t want anything to do with me and we both know it. You made that more than clear five years ago. Believe me, I got the message.”
“How dare you take that attitude with me, Grady Lewis. After what
you did to me, not to mention what you did to LaVerne—the poor girl died having your son—you’ve got no right to get on your high horse with me now.”
“Et tu, Rachel?”
If a person could freeze from a blast of ice in a man’s eyes, Rachel would have been dead on the spot. “Me too, what?”
“Do you think like everybody else around here, that I’m the one who beat up LaVerne that night? That I’m the one who gave her those internal injuries that killed her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she spat. “I know you better than that. You wouldn’t hit a girl—much less a girl about to have your baby.”
“Well, thanks for that, at least.” His tone was anything but thankful. “Someday when you decide you want the rest of the truth, you let me know.”
“The rest of the truth? I don’t have to ask, thank you very much. I know the truth. It’s a little hard to miss with a miniature version of you running around, don’t you think?”
Grady let out a snort of disgust.
His attitude was really starting to burn her. “There’s nothing you can say that can change what you did. It was a long time ago. I came over here today to see if we could put it behind us and maybe be, if not friends, at least civil acquaintances. Businesslike business partners.”
Her words caught Grady off guard. He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but this wasn’t it. Last week he’d been thinking about her share of the blame for what had happened. Last week, last year—hell, he’d been angrily laying blame at her feet thirty seconds ago.
He didn’t see how the two of them could ever get beyond their past if he didn’t tell her what had really happened. She might think she knew, but she had no idea of the truth. Last week he hadn’t been ready to tell her. Now, maybe it was time.
“Rachel…there’s something you need to know about—”
“No.” She held out her hand to stop him. “There’s nothing about what happened five years ago that I need to know.”
“You’re wrong.”
She shook her head hard. “Maybe I should have said there’s nothing about it that I want to hear.”
“Even if—”
“I mean it, Grady, don’t. We’re going to have to deal with each other now and then. I don’t see any way around that. Can’t we just work on that, instead of a past that can’t be changed?”
Grady might have pushed it, might have told her the truth whether she felt like hearing it or not, but it was obvious that she wanted as little to do with him as possible. If her mind was closed, she wouldn’t believe him no matter what he said.
The honking of a horn drew their attention to the rig that was backing a horse trailer up to the stables behind the clinic.
“Looks like you’ve got some work to do,” Grady observed.
“The Satterlys,” Rachel said. “They’re new to the area since you’ve been gone. They bought the Donnely place north of here. They have to go back East to their son’s wedding in Mobile, and they’re afraid their mare will foal while they’re gone.”
“Will she?”
“According to your father’s records and theirs, she could foal a day or two before they get home. They’ve got somebody staying at their place to take care of the livestock while they’re gone, but they haven’t had much luck with foaling in the past.”
“And they’re nervous.”
“Yeah.”
“Wouldn’t the mare be better off at home on familiar ground this close to foaling?”
“Normally, yes. But they lost this one’s dam during foaling. Aside from being understandably gunshy, they bottle-fed this filly. She’s definitely a people horse, and she’s not particular. She loves everybody, and she’s not happy being left alone. I better get up there. I’ll…see you.”
“Yeah.” Grady stood at the corral fence and watched her drive up the gravel road to the clinic.
Another chance denied. Another opportunity lost.
He turned back to his mare. “Gray Ghost, I give up. The lady wants nothing to do with me. Her mind’s been made up about me for years. No sense bothering her with anything so trivial as the truth, huh, girl?”
Gray Ghost nickered softly and shook her head.
“Yeah,” Grady told her, taking a stroke down her back with the brush. “That’s what I thought.”
After leaving Grady, Rachel spent the next forty-five minutes assuring the Satterlys that Maggie M’Darling was in good hands, that Rachel would care for her as if she were her own prized mare. And she would.
But as she’d told Grady, Dr. Ray’s records indicated that the mare wasn’t due to foal for at least several days, if not a good couple of weeks. Not that the foal could read those records. It might decide to come at any time, so Rachel would keep an eye on the mare. But for now there was no need to keep a twenty-four hour watch. The mare was exhibiting none of the usual signs that foaling was imminent.
That decided, Rachel and Louise locked up the clinic at six o’clock that evening and headed back to town.
Knowing there was nothing in her cupboards that she wanted to eat, Rachel stopped at Biddle’s Grocery on Main to find something to fix for supper. As she perused the meat counter, her mind was split between Maggie M’Darling and her visit to Grady. The visit she shouldn’t have made.
She should have stayed away from him, and she would in the future. As she repeated that vow to herself she grabbed a package of pork chops and turned to go.
She hadn’t realized anyone was behind her until she ran smack into Sheriff Martin’s broad barrel of a chest.
“Oh,” she cried in surprise as she stepped back and regained her balance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”
“That’s quite all right, Rachel. You looked like you had a lot on your mind.”
She wagged her package of pork chops. “Important stuff, all right. Supper.”
The sheriff eyed her critically. “You’re sure that’s all? Is everything all right out there at the clinic?”
“Of course it is.” Rachel’s back stiffened. She didn’t know what was coming, but she had the feeling she wasn’t going to like it.
“That Lewis boy isn’t causing you any trouble, is he?”
Rachel blinked. “Lewis boy?”
“You know who I mean, Rachel. Grady.”
“What about him?”
“Come on now, Rachel. I meant what I said the other day after the funeral. Now that he’s back, any girl in this county who’s not careful could end up dead like my LaVerne.”
Rachel blinked again, slower this time, and very deliberately. “Sheriff Martin, I don’t believe you said that.”
He ignored her comment. “Everybody around here knows how sweet you used to be on him. That makes you more vulnerable to him than anyone. You be careful around him, Rachel.”
“Sheriff Martin, I—”
“I’m not telling you anything your own brothers wouldn’t if they were me, or that your own daddy wouldn’t if he was still alive.”
Rachel felt her fingernails pierce the thin plastic wrapping and gouge into the raw meat beneath. It was all she could do to keep from whacking the man in the head with her supper. “Sheriff Martin, I have the utmost respect for the title of County Sheriff, and I’m sorrier than I can say about what happened to LaVerne.”
“I appreciate that.”
“But you are not my brother, nor my father, and whatever I decide to do or not do with Grady Lewis or anyone else is none of your business. Good day, Sheriff.”
As she marched away from a flushed and fuming Gene Martin, standing in the meat aisle, Rachel was scarcely aware of the three witnesses to their little scene. She was so mad she wanted to spit. No, she wasn’t mad, she was furious. How dare that man talk about Grady that way?
At the checkout stand she slammed her pork chops down on the conveyor belt and reached into her purse for her wallet.
The checker, one of the Haskin girls, frowned at the package. “This package is torn. Let me have
someone bring up another one for you.”
“No,” Rachel said, trying to rein in her anger. This poor girl didn’t deserve it. “No, thanks. I tore it myself, by accident. It’s fine. Really.”
Where did the man get the gall, Rachel wondered as she paid for her purchase and stomped out of the store. If he’d say something like that to her, who else was he saying it to? What nerve! What…what…ooooh!
Late that night Grady found himself too restless to sleep. He wandered the house in the dark, checked on Cody a dozen times until he feared he would wake the boy if he looked in on him again. Finally, in desperation, he let himself out the patio door and strolled into the backyard.
The night air was cool, with the sweet smell of freshly cut grass covered in dew. The sky was a mass of tiny diamonds on black velvet.
I know the truth. It’s a little hard to miss with a miniature version of you running around, don’t you think?
Oh, Rachel, he thought. You don’t know. You just don’t know.
How could he still care so much what she thought? How could he still feel that old yearning deep down inside every time he saw her?
He wouldn’t try again to tell her the truth. The only person who would benefit now from the truth would be him. It would get him off the hook with Rachel. Maybe. If she didn’t outright murder him for not finding a way to tell her five years ago.
He bent his head back and faced the night sky and listened to the shrill sound of crickets in the grass. He should have found a way to tell her back then. He could have called her. He could have gotten to her somehow when her brothers weren’t around. So maybe he had no real right to the resentment he’d been tasting lately.
And maybe coming back here to live hadn’t been such a bright idea. But he’d done it, and by God, he was staying.
He strolled around the side of the house and saw the clinic squatting beneath the security light up the road. Before he realized his intent, he was walking toward it and around the side to the corrals.
The Price of Honor Page 8
