by Jeannie Watt
“Why don’t I cook for you tomorrow?” she asked out of the blue, the husky note in her voice telling him that she felt the same connection he did, perhaps even had the same questions. “And I can even make non-microwave food.”
He really liked the idea, which was why he had to put the brakes on now.
He shook his head gently.
She tilted her head. “Because you don’t like the way things are between us?” Trust Madeline to come right out and say it.
“No. I like having a civil relationship.”
“Civil.” She was obviously less than pleased at his word choice, even though civil was what she’d wanted earlier. A civil working relationship. “Doesn’t this feel just a little more intimate than civil?”
His heart gave a mighty thud at the prospect. “I think, given the circumstances, maybe we’ll keep our relationship right about where it is.”
“What circumstances?”
He wasn’t going to spell it out. “You know what circumstances.”
She frowned slightly. “Did you get counseling after the accident?”
“No.”
“You might consider it,” she said matter-of-factly, rising from her chair and walking past him to collect her coat from the sofa.
“Can a counselor change the past, Madeline?”
She put on her coat. “No. But he or she might be able to help you deal with it.”
“I’m not pouring my guts out to someone else when I know what the problem is. I killed your brother and I have to live with it.”
He expected Madeline to draw back at his bald statement. Instead she studied him impassively for a few seconds before she said, “You didn’t kill Skip. I read the report.” Frustration crossed her face. “You have to deal with this, Ty. It doesn’t get better on its own.”
“I was there, Madeline. I know what happened. And maybe I’m not ready to get better.”
She held his eyes for a moment, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard, then draped her scarf over her shoulders, for once with nothing else to say. Ty went to open the door for her as she pulled on her gloves, having never successfully beaten down the manners his mother had instilled in him. Madeline glanced up, pausing in the doorway and letting in a swirl of frigid air. Ty was about to speak when she rose up on tiptoe and pressed her soft lips to the underside of his jaw, the highest point she could reach.
He felt the kiss down to his toes. Two seconds later she was gone and Ty closed the door, wondering what the hell had just happened.
THE PATH LEADING BACK to her house was dark, the air frigid, but Madeline didn’t hurry. She walked slowly, the beam from her flashlight reflecting off the crystallized snow, creating tiny spectrums of light as she crunched along.
Okay, this was frustrating in the extreme. She was attracted to Ty. She’d danced around the issue for a while, indulged in denial, but there was no getting past it—she was attracted. And unless she’d misread him, Ty was attracted to her. When a man stared across the table at a woman the way Ty had been at her, and when that woman got butterflies in her stomach when she met that stare, something was going on.Something he was not going to pursue because he hadn’t dealt with his grief.
He liked being civil. Her lip curled slightly. So did she. But she rarely felt a connection to people she was simply civil to. She rarely kissed them, even on the jaw.
Damn it, Ty. I only want to be friends. Help you through this…thing…you’ve yet to deal with.
Madeline clunked up the wooden steps, cursing and then wondering why she cursed so much since crossing the Mississippi. Perhaps because she’d spent more time out of her comfort zone than she had in her entire life. They had a bond, because of what had happened, because they shared a life with Skip. She should help Ty. She wanted to help him.
She opened the door to her lonely, dark house and stepped inside without even automatically reaching for a light switch as she had when she’d first arrived. She stoked the stove by flashlight, then went to sit on her sofa bed. So could she convince him to let her help?
Not without a struggle. Maybe not at all. She might have to accept the situation as it was.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TY WASN’T SURPRISED when Madeline showed up the next morning to drive the tractor, since she wasn’t the type to sidestep an awkward situation. And he didn’t protest that his knee was better, even though it was. They needed to get past what had happened the night before—hopefully without talking about it.
He wondered if that was going to happen, especially since she’d brought up the subject of counseling. He really hoped she didn’t bring it up again.Just thinking about it froze him inside. Granted, some people benefited from talking to others. He wasn’t one of them. Talking was simply another way of reliving the event, and he did that on a regular basis. Why have a witness to his pain?
He’d talked himself through what had happened more than once, coldly, clinically. No matter what excuse he gave himself, one hard fact remained. Skip had wanted to stop for the night; Ty had insisted they press on. If he hadn’t been asleep at the wheel, then he’d been damned close when the cow had stepped out into the road, startling him so he’d overreacted and flipped the truck. The “almost asleep” part wasn’t in the report that Madeline had read.
Skip was dead and Ty was panting after his sister. That seemed wrong on so many levels.
Madeline’s clutch work was jerkier than usual that morning, but Ty braced himself and they fed without exchanging more than a couple words, which only amplified the awkwardness between them. He was even more aware of her than he’d been the night before.
After parking the tractor, Madeline went with him to care for Sling Cow, as she called the animal, and then headed back to her trailer without so much as a goodbye.
“Hey, Madeline.” He couldn’t help himself. He had to make her feel better.
She turned back.
“I’m sorry about last night. The way it ended.”
She shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. “No worries.”
He took a few steps toward her, wondering why he hated seeing her walk away when it made perfect sense for them to go to their neutral corners. “I overreacted.”
“I shouldn’t have asked such personal questions.”
He nodded, not knowing what else to do. “I’m going to replace a belt on your generator, so you won’t have power for a little while. Is that okay?”
“Fine. Just give me time to shower. I’m going to town.”
“We went to town yesterday.”
“I have some personal matters to take care of.”
“Be careful on the roads.” He nodded again, feeling like a bobblehead, and headed for the generator.
THE ROAD DOWN the mountain had been plowed, so Madeline had no trouble making it to the mercantile, despite concentrating more on Ty than on driving.
After arguing with herself several times that morning, she’d given in and worked with him because she wanted to make a point—that they could move past the awkward way they’d parted the night before, and he didn’t need to withdraw behind his icy wall. She’d achieved what she wanted. He had addressed the issue, they had some closure and could move on. Civilly.And now, point made, Madeline needed to get off the ranch and away from him, where she could think more clearly. She still wanted to help him through his issues. It almost felt as if it was her duty, being Skip’s sister.
She parked in front of the store and went inside, saying hello to Anne, who seemed surprised to see her back again this soon. Then Madeline grabbed a basket and disappeared down the first aisle. She didn’t really need anything. Maybe more cereal, which she kept in the refrigerator after the mouse incident. She was eating a lot of cereal lately, since she could eat it without having power, and it seemed possible that she’d lost a few pounds. Her jeans were getting looser. Or maybe it was all that hay tossing. Or lack of sleep.
She stopped at the rotating book rack, reading the back covers. Usually s
he downloaded her books, but given her current sporadic electricity, paper and print were the best option. She continued to wander the aisles, killing time, guessing at the purpose of certain items. She reached for what looked like an odd kitchen device and held it at an angle, studying it.
“Hoof pick,” Anne called across the store.
“Don’t need one of those,” Madeline called back. She headed to the counter with her basket of non-essentials.
“How much longer are you going to be here?” Anne asked as she rang up the purchases.
“A little over a week.”
“Then you’ll be heading back East for that hearing thing?”
Madeline stared at the older woman. How did she know? Surely Ty hadn’t…
Anne jerked her head toward her small computer screen. “Do you look up everyone who comes through town?” Madeline asked with a frown. It was kind of creepy if she did.
“Pretty much. Nice to know who’s doing what. We’ve had our share of criminals. Small places like this attract people who want to fall off the end of the earth.”
Madeline placed both palms flat on the counter and leaned forward. “I’m not a criminal or trying to fall off the ends of the earth.”
Anne lifted her eyes from the price tag she was trying to read without glasses. “Never said you were.”
“I’m just guilty by association,” Madeline added stiffly.
“Should pick your associates more carefully,” the shopkeeper said as she keyed the wrong price into the machine. Madeline didn’t correct her. It was only twenty cents. But it was tempting to point out that Anne’s glasses, which she probably thought she’d lost, were on top of her head. Madeline decided not to risk it.
“Amen to that,” she murmured instead. She really couldn’t blame Anne for looking her up. Not much to do in this store except play solitaire and watch TV. The internet had opened a whole new way to poke a nose into other people’s business.
“Think you’ll get off?”
“I do.” Madeline pulled two twenties out of her pocket and handed them over. She stacked the empty basket back in the pile, nearly knocking over a display of knives on the counter.
“Wow,” she said as she righted the display board. “No offense, but these are pricey knives.”
“No more than you’d pay in the Wesley hardware store.”
“People pay this much for a pocket knife?”
“They do if it’s a Case. Rancher’s favorite. Handles are real bone.”
“I see.”
“Nice Christmas gift,” Anne said. “You know, maybe a souvenir for someone back home.”
Madeline laughed. “I don’t think my grandmother has much use for a pocket knife.” But Connor might…no. Connor was not a knife guy. He was more of a safety-scissors man. “Thanks, anyway.”
The post office was closed, so Madeline’s last stop before driving back to the ranch was the empty school parking lot. When she opened the phone, she was surprised to find a voice-mail indicator and four text messages. She hadn’t even checked her phone until now. Amazing how she’d managed to wean herself off something that had been so essential just weeks before. And the strange thing was that she hadn’t missed her phone after the first few days. Staying out of contact was surprisingly freeing.
She opened the first text message from Connor. Call me. The second. Call me now. The third. Are you getting these messages? Call me!
Madeline’s heart was hammering by the time she hit the fourth message. Had something happened to her grandmother?
The fourth message calmed her slightly. Eileen is fine. Call me.
The voice mail was from Everett, who wanted to pass on some breaking news from the rumor mill before she heard it elsewhere—meaning Connor, no doubt. Madeline’s mouth went dry as she listened. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t get her throat muscles to work. His final words were, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. I repeat, don’t worry.”
She pushed the button to end the voice-mail message and sat staring up the snowy mountain road and thinking how glad she was that she wasn’t in New York. Because if she was, she might just kill Dr. Jensen, her mentor, who had just publicly come out and hung the blame for using the blood on her, saying that she’d physically taken the samples from the lab, and lied to him about procuring permission. That she’d set him up, and his only crime was not double-checking his trusted assistant’s claims.
Connor had been right. Jensen was a snake.
Her fingers shook as she punched in Everett’s office number. After the phone clicked into the official welcoming message, she realized it was Sunday. Either Everett wasn’t at the office or he was pretending not to be there so he could work in peace.
She left a short message at the voice-mail prompt: “Call me immediately if you find out anything else.” She would have left Ty’s number if she had it. But she could call for messages from his phone. Heck, she could call Everett from his phone.
It wasn’t until a ranch truck drove by and slowed as if the driver was ascertaining whether she needed help that she snapped out of her funk. She waved at him, then started her car and put it in gear. She stopped again, long enough to fire a text message off to Connor saying that she knew about Jensen, and she’d talk to him soon.
When she got home, she set her bag of unnecessary groceries on the counter and dropped her coat and scarf on the sofa bed.
It’s not that bad. Everett will handle it. It’s not that bad.
But it felt that bad. She hated feeling helpless. Hated the powerlessness of her position. Hated Dr. Jensen. What a jerk.
She wanted to hole up and lick her wounds for a few weeks. She also wanted to catch the next flight to New York and make a few public announcements herself.
Everett would kill her.
So she paced.
Every now and then she’d stop for a few minutes, then leap to her feet and pace again. Then, for want of anything better to do, she went to see Sling Cow.
“How’s it going, girl?”
Sling Cow blinked and went back to chewing her cud.
“Ty says you seem to be getting some feeling back. Won’t it be nice to be back out in the cold field with the other cows? Or are you faking it so you can be here, in the nice warm barn? I know what I would do in your position. Nice warm barn.”
Madeline rested her forearms on the cool metal of the rails, then settled her chin on top, watching the cow watch her.
“I’ve been blindsided, girl. A wallop out of the blue. From someone I trusted.” She put her forehead where her chin had just rested, squeezing her eyes shut. “Shit.”
More west-of-the-Mississippi cursing, but the word felt utterly satisfying. Maybe she should shout it a few times. She looked back up at the cow. “It stinks when you trust someone, think you know someone and then… pow! It absolutely stinks.”
MADELINE WAS TALKING to herself.
No. She was talking to the cow.Ty wasn’t certain which was worse. Yes, he talked to animals, but she was pouring out her guts.
“You okay?” he called, keeping his distance so she wouldn’t think he was eavesdropping.
She whirled around, her cheeks growing pink.
“It’s okay,” he said, walking toward her, although he had a feeling she would rather have him disappear at that moment. “I wasn’t listening. I just heard your voice.” He smiled slightly, trying to reassure her. “I figured it had to be you, and if it wasn’t, then I had myself a late-night television act.” He pointed at the animal. “Talking cow,” he explained, when she continued to stare at him.
“Yeah. I get it.” She moistened her lips. “I was working some stuff out, and it helps me keep it clear if I say it out loud.”
“So you weren’t talking to the cow.”
She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again. He’d never seen Madeline so uncertain, so…vulnerable before. And it concerned him.
“Bad joke,” he said by way of an apology.
“Not a joke,” s
he responded. “I was talking to the cow.”
“About anything in particular?” He moved a couple steps closer, trying to read her. He had the feeling that something unexpected had happened. She’d gone to town, then…
“Is your grandmother all right?”
“Yes. She’s fine.” Madeline glanced down, speaking to the straw at her feet. “It’s me that isn’t doing so well.” She looked up at him then, and again he was struck by the open vulnerability in her face. “My mentor fed me to the wolves.”
A surge of protectiveness welled up inside of Ty. “How so?”
“I have this via the college rumor mill… Jensen has alleged that I stole the samples and lied to him about having permission. If that’s true, then he’s only guilty of academic negligence. Not double-checking permission.”
“This rumor mill…it’s pretty accurate?”
“Stunningly so.”
He reached out to tuck some strands of hair behind her ear, her cheek soft beneath the tips of his fingers. Then he gently tilted her chin up and laid his open palm on her cheek, trying as best he could to offer a little comfort. He knew what it felt like to battle demons alone. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“I can deal with it.” Emotions he couldn’t fully read fought it out in her green eyes. “It’s just been one hell of a shock.”
She leaned her cheek into his palm as she spoke, as if gaining strength from him. He didn’t think she was even aware of what she was doing. He bent his head and lightly kissed her lips, just as she’d kissed his jaw the night before. She stilled, but didn’t move away. For a second they stood toe-to-toe, his hand still cupping her cheek, then she rose up on tiptoe to meet his lips again. This time her mouth opened and she kissed him more deeply.
Ty didn’t pull her close, didn’t let the kiss go hard and deep, as the more insistent and reactive parts of his anatomy demanded. But it wasn’t easy. In fact it was a battle he was on the verge of losing when Madeline broke the kiss, drawing in a shaky breath as she lowered her heels back to the ground.
