Heartland

by Julie Cannon

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The sun was not yet above the horizon when Rachel woke. It took a moment for her to realize that she was not in her own bed and she was definitely not alone. Her body flushed at the memory of the many times she and Shivley had made love in the short night. Their coupling mirrored their passion, simmering just below the surface or quickly exploding in a barrage of sensations that consumed Rachel to the point where several times she was not certain she had remained conscious.

  Rachel lay quietly so as not to disturb Shivley sleeping beside her. Shivley’s brow was furrowed in her sleep and Rachel’s hand trembled when she reached out to stroke the tightness. At the first light touch, Shivley stirred and then settled back into sleep. Rachel’s pulse beat stronger with every stroke across the soft skin, and something tugged at her heart. She felt a wave of tenderness wash over her that she could very easily allow herself to drown in.

  Rachel studied Shivley while she slept. The women Rachel knew didn’t have calloused hands and sun-weathered tanned skin. Their boots had four-inch heels and pointed toes, not flat, worn heels caked with dirt. Their hair was always perfect, not like the rumpled curls sharing her pillow. They were thin almost to the point of unhealthy due to starvation, not firm and lean due to hard work. They smelled like Chanel or Calvin Klein, not sweat, leather, and cattle. Shivley McCoy was definitely not the kind of woman Rachel dated. She scowled. She didn’t date. She had sex, and more often than she probably cared to admit, she fucked. Her love life was as impersonal and transitory as the rest of her life.

  Rachel shuddered when she realized what had been missing in her relationships. She didn’t know any better, and as a result hadn’t really thought about it. She was content and happy with the way things were. She intended to never put herself in a position where she could get hurt, and for that she got an A+, but it was a very hollow accomplishment. The phrase “you don’t know what you’re missing” came to mind. And at that moment, lying in bed with a cowgirl, Rachel admitted, was where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

  Stunned at her admission, Rachel stared at the face inches from hers. She knew lust and desire and passion for a woman, but she had never wanted one. Ever since Shivley almost ran into her on the road, Rachel had yearned for her attention, her touch, and the safety of her arms. She didn’t know what she was going to do when it was time to leave. She didn’t know how Shivley felt about her and realized that when she left, it would not be the same casual “thanks-for-the-good-time-good-bye” that she had mastered years ago. She didn’t want to think what that meant.

  When Rachel woke several hours later she was alone. She touched the bed where Shivley had lain and it was cold, indicating she’d been up for some time. Rachel momentarily felt a pang of regret that Shivley didn’t wake her, but quickly remembered the incident last night and suspected she had things to attend to. She tossed off the covers eager to see Shivley. Just being with her was enough.

  *

  “Come on, Shivley, what’s the real story? You look like shit.”

  Shivley was sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee when Ann had walked in. Obviously Ann didn’t believe her when she told her nothing was wrong. She recapped the events of the previous night in detail, omitting the parts where she and Rachel made love. “Jesus, Ann, I had no idea,” Shivley continued but was quickly interrupted.

  “Shivley, it’s all right. It’s what Dale would have wanted you to do. If she were alive today she’d give you holy hell for agonizing over this. She loved you too much to see you like this.”

  Shivley ran her hands though her damp hair. The events of last night had come flooding back at her when she was in the shower, and she was still shaken by it. “No, Ann, that’s not it.”

  Ann sat down beside her and covered her hand with her own. “Then what is it, Shivley?”

  “Dale and I were through a long time before she died. But I didn’t have the guts to do anything about it. I just kept going. And then she got sick. I loved her, Ann, I really did, but I wasn’t in love with her. I couldn’t even get it together to love her when she was dying.” Shivley sipped at the lukewarm coffee. “And then she died. I felt so guilty for not loving her enough to try harder, to make it work. To make her last days and months truly happy, knowing that I loved her.”

  “She knew you loved her,” Ann said softly.

  “Not like she deserved. She deserved someone who worshipped the ground she walked on. Someone who thought she was brighter than any star in the sky. Someone who would do anything for her. That wasn’t me. It hadn’t been for a long time.” Shivley dropped her head in her hands, tears spilling onto the table. “She deserved better than me.”

  “Shivley, you can’t eat yourself up over this. You were there when it mattered. You. No one else. Christ, her parents weren’t even decent enough to be there. You were there because you wanted to be, not because you had to be. There’s a difference.”

  “I know that, Ann, and I want to put it behind me but…it’s just that…” She trailed off, uncertain of what she would say next.

  “It’s what?” Ann asked encouragingly.

  “I’m happier now than I ever was with Dale. It took her dying for me to have all of this. A wonderful woman, a great friend, a fabulous teacher had to die so I could be happy. How terrible is that? I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be living this life and loving Ra—” She stopped before she said any more.

  “Shivley, what are you talking about? Of course you deserve this, to be happy. Where did you ever get that idea?” Ann sat back in her chair, realization dawning on her face. “Is that why you haven’t… Shivley, is that why you haven’t been with anyone?”

  “Ann, it’s more complicated than that.” At least from her vantage point it was.

  “Really? How so?”

  The more time that passed after Dale’s death, the more Shivley had begun to see more clearly exactly what their relationship had become. She was not in love with Dale when she died. Yes, she loved her, but as she would a close friend, not as a lover. Their relationship had faded and she hadn’t even realized it. She had mourned for Dale but not as she would have if she were desperately in love with her. Out of the haze of sadness, Shivley had begun to feel like a hypocrite or worse—a prostitute. She had collected Dale’s life insurance and inherited her estate as if she deserved it. And she wasn’t sure she did. It was only because Dale had died she was in the position she was in right now.

  Her voice cracked when she said she wasn’t in love with Dale the way everyone thought she was. She lowered her eyes when she talked about the outpouring of sympathy she had received when Dale had died and how she didn’t deserve any of it. She told her that she felt guilty for dragging Ann out here to take care of her under the false impression that she was falling apart. At that point Ann cut her off.

  “Shivley.” When she didn’t look at her, Ann repeated her name, this time more sternly. “Shivley, look at me. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You deserve every bit of sympathy and caring you received. We are your friends, always have been. Always will be. You and Dale were together for four years and just because the love you shared was no longer the searing passion it once was doesn’t mean you didn’t suffer a huge loss.”

  “What kind of person am I that I get to have everything I want? Dale wanted a life with me and she died thinking she had it. But she didn’t. I didn’t love her. The woman was dying and I didn’t love her. I shortchanged a dying woman out of everything she wanted. And what do I do? I buy this ranch and live happily ever after. And you know what else? I slept with Rachel.” Ann’s face showed her surprise. “Yeah, not once or twice. We made love at least a dozen times. I never should have let it happen. It never should have happened.” Shivley accentuated every word separately. “I cannot do this.”

  Rachel didn’t hang around to hear any more. She had finished her shower and bounded down the stairs in search of Shivley filled with a joy for the new day. She had not
felt this good in a long, long time. When she heard voices in the kitchen she stopped, not wanting to interrupt, but when Shivley mentioned her involvement last night she couldn’t help but listen. Her heart clenched at the words she heard coming from the woman who had held her so gently the night before. A wave of nausea rushed over her, and Rachel reached out and grabbed the wall for support. She had eavesdropped long enough.

  *

  “How could I be so stupid?” Rachel was tightening the cinch on Bonanza’s saddle and didn’t expect an answer from the big gelding. In one practiced, swift motion she was in the saddle and nudging her horse out the door. She stopped long enough to tell Bart where she was going and spurred Bonanza to the north.

  The sun was high in the sky when Rachel finally stopped. She was so distracted by Shivley’s words echoing in her brain she paid little attention to sore muscles overworked from the night before. She carefully sat down on the ground on the opposite side of a tree where she tethered the horse. Taking her hat off, she leaned back, vaguely noticing the rough surface of the tree as it poked her back. The pain numbed any further discomfort, and she ran her hands through her damp hair.

  “What an idiot.” At her loud tone of voice, Bonanza glanced up from nibbling on wild grass. “I can’t believe I allowed myself to fall for her. What in the fuck was I thinking? Jesus, Rachel, she even named this ranch after her dead lover.” The only answer to Rachel’s question came from the birds chirping overhead. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking, not at all. And look where it got me. I know better. People are always out for something or have something to hide. I guess with Shivley I got both.”

  She repeated the question in her head that she had asked again. “How could I be so stupid?” An overwhelming sadness blanketed her like a wet cloth. Shivley wasn’t interested in anything other than living with the guilt of her dead lover. She was still hung up on Dale, and guilt was one thing Rachel wanted nothing to do with. Rachel had fallen in love with Shivley and now she had to get over it and get back on track with her life.

  Rachel plucked several blades of grass and let them fall between her fingers one by one. She stopped when the childhood chant “She loves me, she loves me not” came to mind. Her tears mixed with the remaining grass she dropped to the ground.

  *

  Rachel returned just as the dinner bell rang. She barely said a word to Shivley, who had begun to worry when she had not returned by early afternoon. She was getting ready to saddle her horse and go look for her when Rachel rode into the stable. Shivley followed Rachel inside.

  “I was worried about you.” Worried, hell, I was scared to death.

  Rachel knew Shivley was behind her but didn’t turn around. “Bart knew where I was.”

  “Yes, he told me you went riding, but I was still worried.” Shivley wanted to put her arms around Rachel, relieved that she’d come back unharmed, but Rachel’s aloofness stopped her.

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Shivley. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Rachel’s voice bit with sarcasm.

  “I don’t doubt that, but I was worried just the same.” Shivley had no idea what the problem was.

  Rachel shrugged, her back still to her. She heaved the heavy saddle onto the stand. “That’s right, I’m a paying customer and I suppose you have to be worried about liability and shit like that.”

  The bitterness in Rachel’s words propelled Shivley forward. She put her hand on Rachel’s shoulder to turn her around, but Rachel beat her to it.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Shivley’s heart skipped, the anger in Rachel’s eyes stunning her. “What’s the matter? What’s going on, Rachel?” She was not expecting this type of reaction. Not twelve hours earlier she’d woken in the arms of this beautiful woman who had comforted her without question. They had lain together, talking quietly, gently making love over and over again.

  “I said don’t touch me.” Rachel said the words, but her gut clenched at every one of them. The look of hurt and confusion on Shivley’s face was almost her undoing.

  Shivley stepped back, her hands in front of her, palms out in surrender. “Okay, okay. Jeez, take it easy. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

  “You’re too late.”

  Rachel started to storm past, but Shivley couldn’t let her go without getting to the bottom of this inane conversation. She stepped in front of Rachel, blocking her exit. She searched Rachel’s eyes, looking for the answer to her questions. “What are you talking about? Too late for what?”

  Rachel shook her head in disbelief. “You figure it out.”

  Shivley watched Rachel walk away, bewildered by the harsh words. She had no idea what might have happened that caused Rachel to react like this. On the contrary, Shivley was hoping that they could spend some quiet time together tonight without all the drama of the night before. It certainly didn’t appear to be the way the evening was shaping up.

  The women surrounding the oval table were in a talkative mood, having rested most of the day, either in their rooms or on the porch. Several conversations were going on simultaneously involving everyone except Rachel, who sat quietly at the end of the table. Shivley noticed that she hadn’t eaten much dinner but moved the food around her plate to appear as if she had. Rachel’s head jerked up at the sound of a name.

  “Who?”

  “James Crafter, the bastard from South Dakota. Who does he think he is, trying to control a woman’s body like that?” Christina asked the question.

  Shivley had one ear listening to the conversation at the other end of the table. The women were talking about the senator from South Dakota who’d cast the deciding vote on a bill that would require a forty-eight-hour waiting period to get an abortion after a woman had seen a doctor. It was a controversial subject in and of itself, but put it in a room full of lesbians and three bottles of wine, and you had a passionate discussion.

  “He’s a good guy,” Rachel replied without thinking.

  “Are you nuts?” Jane countered. “He’s a… Wait a minute. Did you get him reelected?”

  The turn in the conversation was all too familiar to Rachel. She didn’t answer.

  “How could you do that? Do you know how demeaning it is that some balding, fat white guy is going to force you to wait before you can do something to your own body? That’s ridiculous.”

  Debra piled on. “He has no right, and I can’t believe any self-respecting lesbian would have anything to do with him, let alone help him get reelected.”

  There was no doubt as to what they thought of her now. Rachel was not in the mood to argue. Crafter was a staunch supporter of children and education, homeless shelters, and drug rehabs. He had an excellent plan to overhaul the state foster care system and had discussed it with Rachel several times. Rachel had closed an eye to one thing, believing that the others made up for it several times over.

  When Jackie and Ellen started in on Rachel, Shivley finally spoke up. Rachel had not answered the question, but everyone in the room knew the answer. She, too, was appalled that Rachel could work for a man who thought that way, but she didn’t voice her opinion. “Ladies, please. Rachel is a guest here and as such I insist on respecting her. Let’s just agree to disagree and talk about something else, shall we?” Shivley looked at Rachel, who wore a mask of indifference across her face. Eyes that previously sparkled were now flat and dark.

  Rachel excused herself from the table and went to her room. She filled the tub, and as she was about to step into the steamy water, there was a knock on the door. She knew who it was and debated with herself if she should answer it or not. Before she had a chance to decide, Shivley called her name.

  “Rachel? Rachel, I know you’re in there. Please open the door.” Shivley leaned close to the door and listened. She didn’t hear any movement inside, but she knew Rachel was behind the locked door. She put her forehead on the cool door. “Rachel, please open the door.”

  After her conversation with Ann that morning she had though
t of nothing other than Rachel all day. She remembered the rest of their conversation. “You know what the kicker is, Ann? I’m happier than I ever could be with Dale, either with or without this ranch. Rachel is everything Dale wasn’t. She loves the ranch. She’s a natural here. It feels right when she rides next to me. We work well together. She seems to know exactly what I want even before I know it. The world is a better place with Rachel by my side. But I don’t deserve her, and she deserves someone better than me.”

  The oak door muffled Shivley’s voice, but Rachel could clearly hear that she was almost pleading. She knew she couldn’t stay locked in her room for two days. Well, she could, but that would be the chicken’s way out, and Rachel was anything but. When faced with a problem or an ugly situation, she prided herself on tackling it head-on. Why should this be any exception? Wrapping her robe tightly around herself, she walked silently across the room. The floor was cool on her bare feet and she shivered slightly as she approached the door. She took a deep, steadying breath and turned the knob.

  Shivley had just about given up any hope that Rachel would talk to her and almost fell into the room when she opened the door. Rachel stood before her in the terry-cloth robe, dark circles around her eyes. It felt like someone was reaching in, grabbing her heart, and ripping it out to see Rachel like this. She wanted so badly to talk to Rachel, had thought of nothing other than that all day, and now that she had the opportunity, Shivley’s mind went blank.

  “May I come in?”

  Rachel looked at her as if trying to decide to let her in or slam the door in her face. Shivley breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped back and the door fell open. She took four or five steps into the room. She turned around when she heard the door close. Rachel was standing with her back to the door, her hands buried deep in the pockets of the robe.

  “Rachel, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing because we both know better. What happened between last night and this morning?” Shivley had no idea. It didn’t look like Rachel was going to answer her. “Rachel?”