Return to Marker Ranch

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Return to Marker Ranch Page 8

by Claire McEwen


  “There was a baby,” she said, forcing her voice out a little louder. Still not looking up. Still taking the coward’s way, huddled against his chest. So she felt it when he stilled.

  “In the bar tonight?”

  He was still innocent, thinking this was all about something simple in a bar. She was about to shatter that. “No... When I was inside the bar, my friends were talking about their kids. I couldn’t stand it—couldn’t deal with it. Because I got pregnant. Right at the beginning of college. And I...and I...”

  How could she say it? How did you spit out something that felt unspeakable? “I ended it.”

  “Oh, Lori,” he whispered, pulling her in closer. “Oh no.” His hand in her hair started moving again, trying to soothe the unsootheable.

  She waited. He’d struggled with math, but this calculation didn’t take many skills. The deep breath, the harder thud of his heart against her ear, told her that he’d realized. “It was from us, wasn’t it? From that night?”

  She nodded, relieved that he’d guessed. But she knew that a nod wasn’t what was owed here. “I’m sorry, Wade.” Tears. How could she have any left? They slid down her cheeks in quiet rivers now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  He didn’t answer. Just held her. Breathing long, slow breaths that she could feel. He was trying to absorb it. The dawning realization she knew too well, as all the different things that her decision meant for him, for his beliefs, for his conscience, hit one by one.

  But after realization would come reaction.

  “I had no idea.” He sounded stunned. “All these years, I had no idea.”

  “I called. No one ever answered. I couldn’t find an email address for you. I had to make a decision.” She pulled away from the warmth of his chest and scrubbed the soggy bandana over her face again. It was easy to remember her frantic search for him. The panic.

  “Did you tell your dad? Or Mandy?”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. Until now.”

  “You went through it all alone.”

  A bitter laugh hiccupped out of her throat. “You made it very clear that you regretted what happened between us. After a while, when I couldn’t find you, I just figured you didn’t want to be found.”

  “I was such a jerk to you. It’s a piece of my life that I wish I could undo.”

  Lori stared ahead of her in the dark. So weary she wanted to curl up and sleep right there on the picnic table. She’d always thought that telling someone, especially Wade, would help ease the pain. But the hurt was still there. Dulled from crying, but still there.

  “I wish I knew what to say.” Wade’s voice sounded hollow in the quiet night. “I wish there was some way I could help you. You’re sad. And I—” he paused and cleared his throat “—I don’t really know what to do. I’m just so sorry.”

  “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” The words felt rusty and hoarse. “It was a long time ago, and there’s nothing to do about it now.”

  “I’d rather know.” He sounded more definite, at least about that. “I’d rather know than have you walking around alone with it. Thinking about it every time you saw me. And me not knowing.”

  But now it was all reversed. He knew, and he’d think of it when he looked at her. And she’d know he was thinking about it. The flicker of hope she’d had for them earlier tonight fizzled out, leaving a quiet desolation. “I think I need to go home.”

  “Let me drive you.” Wade slid off the bench and stood, holding out his hand.

  “I can have Mandy take me.”

  “I don’t want to send you back in there to pretend that everything is fine. Let me take you. Send Mandy a text.”

  She’d never be able to pretend with her puffy, postcrying face, anyway. She pulled her phone out of her dress pocket and sent a message.

  Wade helped her stand and kept an arm around her as he walked her gently to his truck.

  On the way out of town he turned to her, his face lit up by the last streetlight. “I can listen, if you ever want to talk.”

  She couldn’t face it—the pity she saw in his eyes now, or whatever other emotion might be there once he’d had time to let it all sink in. He might think less of her, and she couldn’t blame him. “I doubt there’s much to say.” She stared out the window as the streetlights of town disappeared behind them and all she could see was a blur of black countryside. “But thank you for listening tonight.”

  She watched the darkness until the lights of her ranch came into view. He stopped his truck in front of her porch, and she slid out quickly, meeting up with him at the porch steps.

  He took her hand in his and walked her to the front door, turning her there under the light so he could see her face. “I have regretted, every day, the way I treated you, way back then.” His eyes were black and brimful of pain.

  “And now you have something else to regret.” It seemed impossible that she could feel more guilt than she already carried with her. But there it was.

  “I do. And more to atone for. I abandoned you. I left you to deal with our consequences alone. I want to try to make it up to you. I’ll help you in any way I can. Around your ranch...with the water. Hell, you can have the water. All of it.”

  Payback wasn’t what she wanted. “Don’t do this. Don’t let this change everything.”

  “But how can it not?” He looked at her helplessly. “I hurt you beyond what I can even imagine.”

  “Don’t you see?” She could feel the tears starting again and willed them away. But they broke in her voice. “If you let it change things, you undo everything. All the effort I’ve put into moving on and trying to be okay with it. All the ways I’ve tried to prove to myself that something positive came out of that decision—that some grain of rightness came out of all that wrong.”

  He stared at her, and she felt sorry for him. He’d had a few minutes to take this in while she’d had years to wrestle with all the impossible dilemmas and what-ifs the abortion had created in her mind. She could see those questions in the light from the porch, clouding his eyes. Suddenly she couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

  Going on tiptoe, she reached up and put her hands behind his neck. Pulling him down, she kissed him hard on his startled mouth. All her need to ease the pain she’d caused and the moral burden she’d just added to his life was in the kiss.

  He pulled back, his hands coming up to cradle her head, to weave into her hair. He studied her face with hooded eyes, and she saw what she was desperate to see. He was looking at her with passion. With desire. Which was much better than the pity and regret that had been there before.

  He brought his mouth down on hers, seeking her with an intensity that resonated—as if there was some kind of solution for all of this sadness in the heat between them. Or maybe, hopefully, some kind of salvation.

  And then he pulled back.

  “Lori,” he whispered and tilted his head to kiss her softly, on the mouth, on the cheek, on her forehead and back to her lips again. And it was still there, the heavy-lidded wanting in his eyes, the intent in the way he sought her mouth with single focus.

  She’d been afraid that if he knew, he’d turn away from her, in fury or sorrow or disgust. But he was here. And even if he was sad, he wanted her with him. The knowledge was more healing than anything she’d imagined.

  But this was Wade, and he’d desired her before. And then changed his mind. Once he’d had some time to think about what she’d done, he’d likely change his mind again. She couldn’t go through that rejection twice.

  She stepped back, putting cold air and porch light reality between them. “Thank you for helping me tonight. And I’m truly sorry to tell you such a horrible thing.”

  “I’m glad I know.” He closed the distance she’d created and kissed her forehead gently. “I’m here for you now. I promise.”

&
nbsp; “You don’t have to be. I’m okay. You don’t owe me anything. Please don’t let this change things for us.”

  He looked at her somberly, ran a soft knuckle down her cheek. “I don’t know if I can promise that. I want to support you however I can. If that’s a change, then I’m sorry.”

  She’d always handled her pain privately. She had no idea how to go forward sharing it with someone else. Especially not with the man who’d left her to face it all alone.

  “Good night,” she told him. And ducked into her house and shut the door, thankful for the barrier between them. She leaned on the old wood until she heard his soft good-night, his footsteps on the steps and the sound of his truck driving away into the night. She touched her fingers to her lips, conjuring the memory of his mouth on hers—an unexpected bolt of passion in a devastating night. She wanted to feel it again. Wanted to feel more. Wanted to go after him in her truck and beg him to stay the night.

  But that would mean facing the fear that drove her. Tuning out the haunting whisper reminding her that she’d made a mistake with Wade once before, with dire consequences. How could she possibly be foolish enough to want to sleep with him again?

  But she wanted to. She wouldn’t, because she’d learned her lesson. But she really did want to.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WADE TRIED TO focus on what Todd was saying. Something about the grant he was applying for. He was opening a sanctuary for wild mustangs and trying to secure funding for veterinary care. It was important stuff, and normally Wade would have been interested.

  But normally he wouldn’t have just found out about Lori’s pregnancy. And the dilemma she’d faced alone, and the decision she regretted. He’d thought about her all week, in the same way he thought about battles, or guys he’d seen wounded. His mind went there for a moment and then skittered away. Because you could only absorb stuff that life altering in tiny doses.

  He’d never thought much about abortion before now. He’d assumed that if he ever got someone pregnant, they’d raise the kid together. And he’d been really careful to make sure he never got anyone pregnant. Or so he’d thought.

  Did he regret her choice? He sure as hell hadn’t been ready to be a father back then. But what she’d done didn’t sit easily with him, either.

  Guilt had colored everything this past week. Old guilt for being a careless kid who’d gotten her pregnant. For abandoning her back then—for shutting her out and leaving town. For making her go through it all alone.

  And then there was the new guilt. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about the way that night had ended. Their kiss. And how badly he wanted to kiss her again. He tried to remind himself that it hadn’t been real. That they’d been seeking some kind of comfort after all that heartache.

  The problem was that the taste of her, that intense connection, had felt pretty damn real, and it made him want more. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking like that. Now was the time to figure out how to be a friend and support her, the way he should have in all the years between then and now.

  It was a lot to take in and he was a mess. His brain was misfiring, and he couldn’t focus on anything for long. It was the reason he and Todd were out riding this morning. A few days ago, when it looked like his heifers were feeling better, Wade had brought them up to his highest pastures to graze. He’d never thought to check the weather report.

  A couple of days later, temperatures had started dropping drastically at night. And early this morning, rain on the ranch had meant snow sugarcoating the highest of the Sierra peaks. So here he was, collecting his small herd and bringing his heifers back down to the same pastures he’d taken them from just a few days ago. It was one more mistake in a growing list. His own inexperience was the most frustrating thing about resurrecting Marker Ranch.

  He’d forgotten how fast the weather could turn here on the stark east side of the mountains. And he’d learned how a woman you cared about could swipe your decision-making abilities with a devastating confession and one mind-blowing kiss.

  When he’d mentioned his idiocy with the heifers to Todd, his friend and future brother-in-law had offered his help. Because that’s the kind of guy Todd was.

  A guy who deserved to have his friend listen to him instead of wondering about Lori. She’d dropped a note in his mailbox, apologizing for crying all over him and saying she’d like to have some space for a few days. So he’d given her that. But a few days had turned into more than a week, and the truth was, he missed her. Because alongside all the mixed-up feelings of kissing and sorrow and regret was the fact that they’d become closer since she helped him with the heifers. And he wanted more of what it felt like when she was nearby.

  “You still with me?” Todd had turned in the saddle and was watching him with a huge grin on his face. “Man, you’ve got it bad... You disappeared into la-la land for a minute there. Or should I say, Lori-land?”

  Wade felt himself flush. “Sorry, I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind today.”

  “Have you asked her out yet?”

  “Who said anything about asking her out?”

  Todd shrugged. “Well, from the way you couldn’t stop staring at her in the bar, and the way you disappeared outside with her for the rest of the night, I just figured there’d be dating.”

  “Well, you figured wrong.”

  “But you were thinking about her just now.”

  “Nope.” Wade didn’t lie much. Almost never. For a split second he was tempted to confide in his friend. To ask him what he thought, or how he’d handle it. But it wasn’t his secret to tell. So he’d have to get his head around this on his own. “Nah, I haven’t asked her out. She was kind of upset about something that night in the bar. We ended up talking. And I said the wrong things, so I think she’s kind of pissed at me.”

  Todd laughed. “Of course you did. We all say the wrong things. It’s part of being a guy. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask her out.”

  “Really? That’s your dating advice? Ask someone out who’s mad at me?”

  “It worked with your sister.”

  “Not right away,” Wade reminded him. “Believe me. I was there. I saw the whole damn thing.”

  Todd sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “So what should I do, Romeo?” Wade asked. “What’s your sage advice?”

  “Don’t give up,” Todd answered. “Just be patient and be her friend for a while. She’ll see what a stand-up guy you are.”

  Wade shook his head. He was pretty sure stand-up wasn’t the adjective Lori would pick to describe him. “I wasn’t great to her when we were young. I think that puts me permanently in the friend category. I doubt she’ll change her mind.”

  “But I messed up with Nora when we were young. And we got through all that.”

  “You didn’t mess up like I did,” Wade admitted. He focused on their surroundings, the old fence line and the muted colors of the pasture beyond. Beige, gray, smoky green. Colors of plants tough enough to survive the unforgiving drought. Colors that suited his mood, because there’d been days lately when all he’d been doing was surviving. His mind was so damn unpredictable. And as a result, life was all about getting by. Taking the antianxiety meds, avoiding too much alcohol, trying not to overreact to loud noises or unexpected events, anything that might trigger the craziness that lurked inside his damaged mind.

  Even if Lori could forgive him, she deserved someone better. Someone whole. “We’re friends. And it’s for the best,” he said firmly. “We’re sharing water. She’s helping me on the ranch. We’ve got a business relationship, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

  A sadness settled on him like low-lying mist. A sadness teetering on the depression he’d been fighting off every day since he left the army. He shoved it back—it reeked of self-pity. He’d screwed up with Lori and he had to face that like a
man...and live with the consequences.

  “How’s JM doing?” Todd asked.

  Wade gave the mustang a pat on his sleek neck, grateful for the subject change. “He’s a good guy. Pretty steady. Hard to believe he was born in the wild.”

  “Born and raised,” Todd assured him. “Glad he’s working out for you.”

  “Well, I’ve had him about three weeks now, right? But it’s like he’s been on the ranch forever. He seems pretty content.”

  Todd nodded. “JM here is a pretty tough guy. He survived a lot of abuse at the hands of the Department of Range Management after they rounded him up. It took me a long time to get him to trust me.”

  “Well, he’s good now,” Wade said. “In fact, he’s so relaxed these days, I can barely get him to go faster than a trot.”

  Todd laughed. “Sometimes you don’t know what the horses are really like until they’ve been in a good home and have some time to realize that they’re safe.”

  “Well, don’t get me wrong. I like JM’s personality just fine. But if I need him to do something quickly, I may be in trouble.”

  “Which leads me to something I wanted to ask you,” Todd said.

  “Fire away. Though if my sister wants me to wear a tux to that wedding of yours, the answer is no.”

  Todd laughed. “I’m pretty sure we’re getting married on my deck. In jeans.”

  “Hallelujah.” Wade grinned at his friend. “Bet you’re relieved about that.”

  “One more reason your sister is the woman of my dreams. But getting back to my question... I have more horses than I can handle right now, and I’ve got one that I think would be great for you. You could have him at no cost as long as you’ll work with him.”

  “Work with him?” Wade echoed.

  “He isn’t trained yet. He’s somewhat tame. He’ll let me touch him, put a halter on and lead him a little, but he’s never been ridden.”

  Wade tried to think of a polite way to say hell no. “I wouldn’t know what to do with him.”

  “I’ll help you.”

 

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