“For us to remain friends?” K.C. stood there, a finger of fear jabbing her in the stomach. What should have been a fun day, with Christmas festivities and, she had hoped, having the apartment alone with Chay so there’d be no worries about disturbing Daphne with their love-making, which was the high note on which she had envisioned ending the day, the day had turned into a nightmare.
“I’ll see what we can find, when we can house hunt. And it won’t be before Christmas.” She straightened the coat bundled on her arm and took her time walking into the bedroom.
Chay lay spread out on the bed, fully clothed, legs crossed, boots still on, arms locked behind his head. His coat, scarf, and hat were dropped on the floor.
K.C. clicked the door shut behind her and stood staring at him, not knowing where to start. “You heard?”
“I heard.” He pulled his knees in, hugging them and then, as if just now realizing his boots were still on, he swung his legs off the bed. “Shall we report her to the police for having marijuana on the premises?” He turned to look at K.C., his smirk belying the jest behind his words.
“You’re not serious.”
“No,” he said, getting to his feet and going to her. “But it’s a nice idea. Pay-back.” He pulled K.C. into his arms and rested his chin on her head. “She really is a bitch. How in heaven’s name did you ever get friendly with her?”
“Oh, you know…we were in the same classes in college as undergrads, had a few laughs, went out to parties together, and just became friends. You know how it is.”
He pulled away, his hands still gripping her arms. “No, K.C., I don’t know how it is. I haven’t been to college, haven’t found something in common with people who smoke weed, who lie about others, make false accusations like that.”
K.C. snapped away, throwing her coat on the bed. “Well, excuse me. I didn’t know I was sleeping with someone so perfect, almost holy.”
“You want to have an argument over this? I had to listen to that crap; I’ve put up with her nasty lies and insinuations and garbage while you’re not here during the day. And now you want to take her side?”
“Geesh, Chay! I am not taking her side in anything! I was simply explaining how I became friends with someone you don’t like.”
“Maybe you are a really bad judge of character. Maybe that’s why you went out with Jamie.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She thought back to the terrible evening with Jamie at his ranch, how he had got her to the empty house under pretense of giving her dinner and tried to rape her by drugging her. If she hadn’t run out, and flagged down Chay, who happened to be heading back to the Lazy S from his own ranch, the ending could have been a whole lot different—could have been deadly. She shivered at the thought. “I went out with Jamie because he seemed nice. I’d been warned about you. We’ve gone through all this. Both Breezy and Dakota told me you were a ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ type and to stay away from you.”
Chay plunked down on the foot of the bed and sighed. “And I was. Until I met you.”
She knew him well enough now to see the wheels of his mind working, how uncomplicated his life used to be, how being single was so much easier than taking into consideration the feelings and needs of another person, how being selfish just made everything so simple with no one else to consider.
K.C. dropped down beside him and took his hand in hers, playing with it, spreading out his fingers before entwining with them. “Not so calloused as they used to be.”
“No.” He grimaced. “You’re going to make a softie of me if I stay here.”
For a second she considered the words, ‘if I stay here’ but let it go. The first real smile of the day filled K.C.’s face and lit up her eyes as she pulled her hand free and caressed his crotch. “Not quite a softie!”
And then his phone rang.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled it out, glanced at the screen with a question filling his face.
“Breezy! What’s up?”
“I’d like to say I’m ringing with good cheer and Christmas wishes from everyone here, Chay, but unfortunately that’s not the case.”
“Shit. What?”
“Well….”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The reluctance in Breezy’s voice was obvious; Chay waited for her to continue, dread chilling him like some internal iceberg floating through his veins.
“I went to collect your mail as usual and you received a letter from the Department of Transport.”
“The D.O.T? What the hell do they want?”
“Your land.”
Her voice was blunt and solemn. It took Chay a minute to digest what she was saying.
“My land? I don’t understand.”
“Chay, they want a corner of your westernmost section, the part that, if you came down off highway twenty-two past the Bantries’ place—which they also want a slice of—the road would come through you.”
“But why?” The whole thing was just not making sense, and after the day he had just had, Chay couldn’t think straight. He was trying to envision the layout of his property in relation to the road.
“Well. The letter says it’s in order to give better access to the ranches and properties situated in the triangle between Jackson, Wilson, and the airport. Of course, if you believe that, you’ll believe anything. I reckon they have further development in mind and have some ideas from the big boys with money. But that’s just my take. You want me to read you the whole letter?”
“No, not really; does it say much more?”
“Well, that’s about it. You know they’re doing a big development beyond the Elk Refuge.”
“Geesh, yes. Well….” Chay started pacing, noticing K.C.’s worried look. Her smile had faded and she looked like she was going to weep any moment with what she was hearing.
“Look. I actually—well, you actually—got this letter a few days ago and I didn’t want to spring this all on you without talking to the Bantries first. They’ve already hired a lawyer—”
“A lawyer! Shit, I have to get a lawyer? How the hell am I ever going to afford a lawyer, Breezy? All that money, all the cash I’ve been saving from the Bantries’ lease—and paying off Jarrod—and all the money I’ve been saving here, gone in a flash to lawyers? No way!”
There was silence on the phone before Breezy said, “Are you gonna let me finish?” She waited for a reply but he gave her none, his reticence his answer. “The Bantries let me sit in on a meeting with their lawyer. Seems we’ve got a long way to go before the D.O.T. can seize the property, and the Bantries said as your land at stake is part of the parcel they rent, they felt they could argue for you and you wouldn’t have to use your own lawyer. After all, if they win, there is no earthly point why WYDOT would want your parcel. In return, of course, knowing you intend to return here and start ranching again, and they foresee the loss of that pasture, they want you to sign a longer lease.”
Chay rubbed a hand down his face. He was snookered, cornered, and needed time to think. “I can’t give an answer now.”
“No, don’t. Absolutely don’t. Maybe you can reach a compromise with them, Chay, some cash and some land to rent. I don’t know what to tell you; I’m sure you’re aware you’re gonna have to come home and sort this out. I can do what I can in the meantime—”
“No, you’ve done enough for me, Breezy; this is my problem now.”
“The other possibility is, of course, you just leave it. Let them do the work and see what happens. It isn’t the most neighborly reaction, but it can work. Or at least you can point out to them you could do that, and use that as your bargaining chip.”
“Yeah,” he replied without much conviction.
“Well, I knew you wouldn’t like that idea, being the gentleman you are,” she said with a slight guffaw behind her words, “but really, if you think about it, pointing that out to them wouldn’t hurt in the least. They can’t very well throw their hands up and say, okay, we won’t fight it either, because t
hen they’ll lose their front parcel, but they know dang well you can just sit back. It’s most likely why they thought of that deal in the first place—thought maybe you weren’t smart enough, or were just too dang kind, to not fight with them.”
“Ummm. Well. I sure as heck don’t want to be feeding any lawyers, but I don’t want to lose that land either. It’s been in my family for several generations, it was homesteaded. So what did the lawyer say?”
“Like I told you: a long way to go. They want to get the Environmental Protection Agency involved and have the D.O.T. prove highest and best use. Make ’em jump through hoops. They think you all have a good case in that respect.”
“Small advantage, I guess. What if highest and best use is putting the road through?”
“Well, Chay, we just can’t let that happen, can we?”
He put down the phone and looked at K.C., her face reading like the map of a disaster area. She was sitting on the bed, hands dangling between her legs, rocking back and forth like silent keening. For several moments, they both just stayed that way.
“You’re going to leave, aren’t you,” she said at last. “You’re going to go back.”
He dropped down beside her and took her hand, stroking it, as if he were gentling a wild animal, before he brought her fingers to his lips. “I don’t know, K.C. Well…I do have to go back. Sometime. Sometime soon. But not yet, not before Christmas certainly. We’ll have Christmas together.”
She faced him, tears beginning to meander down the contours of her face. “What good is that, Chay? What good if you leave and never come back? What good are the extra days if you break up with me?”
“Who said anything about breaking up, for heaven’s sake?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? You hate it here, you’ve hated it from the first, and now you have an excellent excuse to go back to Wyoming and leave me. To stay there.”
Chay rose and paced back and forth. Outside, from the living room, he could hear low chatter as the other girls went out the front door and gave it a resonant slam. “I can’t believe you, K.C. I don’t need an excuse to leave. If I’d wanted to leave, I’d have dang well left. Maybe you’re using this as an excuse to get rid of me? Maybe you’re pushing me away on purpose so I leave?”
K.C. stood and faced him, anger flaring in her eyes. “Don’t you put this on me! Don’t you blame me for your problems!”
“What? How am I blaming you for my problems? Geesh, K.C., I admit I haven’t been happy here but we both agreed it was the best solution to our being together. When I met up with you at the airport that day, I had sorted things out in my mind and told you what I thought was possible, and you absolutely agreed. You were ecstatic! And I went ahead and did it, did everything possible so we could be together. Had Breezy get in Jarrod to redecorate the ranch house, advertise it for rental, she’s done everything for me so I could be here with you.”
“Am I supposed to be thankful now?”
“What?”
“You make it sound as if I’m supposed to be thankful for everything you did, that you gave up so much for me and I’ve done nothing.”
“I didn’t say that at all! I did it for us—for us, K.C. But yes, I am unhappy here and yes, I do want to return to Wyoming. But I want to return with you.”
K.C. turned her back and walked to the window.
Chay glanced outside as snow started to fall in soft feathers of white. He knew if he could catch one flake he would see the most intricate design of nature, the most beautiful artwork in the natural world, a perfect crystal of iced water, equal on all sides, but he also knew it wouldn’t last more than the flicker of an eye. Maybe love was like that—beautiful while it lasted, but it vanished in the blink of an eye.
“But you know I can’t return yet, Chay. You know I have a two year course.”
“The second year is a thesis. You said American expansion after the Louisiana Purchase. You could write that in Wyoming if you really wanted.”
“And fly to the library for research?”
“There are libraries in Wyoming, K.C. And there’s inter-library loan.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“What doesn’t?”
She flipped around to confront him. “Inter-library loan. It doesn’t work for my research. It takes weeks to get anything, sometimes months.”
“Well, I’m sure—”
“Please don’t say you’re sure I could do it if I really wanted. Because you don’t know anything about it.”
So that was it, Chay thought. That was what she thought of him. He didn’t know anything about college, about her research, her life. He reached down and picked up his coat, hat, and gloves dropped earlier on the floor and started to hang them up in the closet, thinking all the time about what he wanted to do. He could feel her stare burning into his back as he swung around to challenge her. “Okay. Yes. I’m tired of fighting crowds, sick of dealing with spoilt customers who think the pig swill they’re eating is divine and I owe them the world for sitting at my table. I’m sick of traveling in filthy, dirty subways instead of being out in the open on my horse, and I’m sick of coming home to a housemate—Daphne—who hates my guts, instead of good friends who welcome me. I’m fed up with being something your parents just about suffer to have over to their apartment, someone they look down their noses at as not being good enough for you, someone who leads the kind of life they don’t approve of, because I’ll never earn enough money to give you the things you’re used to. Oh, and money—what about the cost of things here? We never have enough money to do anything that might bring us some small measure of enjoyment—going to the movies, or having a few drinks in a bar with friends, or even buying a cup of coffee and sitting on a park bench to enjoy it. I feel guilty every time I buy a dang cup of coffee. And finally, I’m sick of us arguing all the time, of seeing your sorrow knowing I’m not happy, and knowing you can’t make me happy, always trying to ensure things are right between us when they obviously aren’t. And I’m sick, really sick, of trying my damnedest, K.C., to pretend things will be wonderful in the near future but we’re just having a bad day, week, year, and when we get back to Wyoming everything will be wonderful because Lord knows, maybe things won’t be. And I wonder if we have what it takes to deal with all this? Do we love each other enough to make this right?”
The silence that filled the room was like a blanket of snow, a winter white-out with its inherent chill in the small space where they stood, where time stood still and the world stopped turning. Chay’s head was buzzing with the quiet, and a kind of weakness overcame him, and his vision seemed to dance. Inside he felt sore, the proverbial broken heart that made him feel like he was bleeding.
“You shouldn’t wait for Christmas.” K.C.’s voice was calm, steady, a breeze that scarcely stirred a leaf. “You should go now.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Eighteen months later, June
The phone calls had stopped some time back, but a few days ago there had been more. Of course, it could have been a wrong number that hung up when they heard his voice, or a robocall that didn’t come through; the screen always said ‘private caller.’ But Chay believed it was K.C. It was almost as if he recognized her silence.
When the calls had first begun, a short time after he got back to Wyoming, living in the bunkhouse at the Lazy S because his place was still rented, he could on occasion hear a little whimper, knew she was crying. He would speak her name, say something, ask her why she was phoning when she had been the one to send him away. But there was never any answer—she never spoke. In time, he got fed up with it, saw it as her immaturity, and maybe later she outgrew the need to hear his voice. The calls petered out and finally stopped. And in some strange way he had missed them, missed knowing she was there—and she still wanted him.
Maybe she had been going out with someone else for a while. That was always a possibility and he would like to think he didn’t care, but he knew he did. He always hoped some way, some day
they would get back together. But a year had passed with no further word, no calls, and he got on with his life. And believed he had stopped missing her. Wanting her.
He had told the Bantries he had no money for lawyers so they would have to battle on alone with theirs, but he would do anything else he could. And he had promised them to honor the lease for the remaining year and consider it thereafter, though he knew it was time to begin the future he had envisioned, put the money he had saved into stock for the ranch, however few, and start building up his herd. Jarrod had been good to deal with as well, though Chay had insisted on paying him off for the work on the main house. And Bob Hastings had hired him back on at the Lazy S until he could take possession of his home.
But now, once again, there had been silence on the other end of the phone. He wondered if she believed he didn’t know it was her. The calls were briefer than they used to be, too. He answered, he said ‘hello’ a few times, and then shortly after he heard the beeps. There were no longer any whimpers, it was more as if she were wondering if she could find the words and didn’t, and so hung up.
And now, Chay yearned to hear her voice, spoke into the silence on the phone, told her he missed her and wished she would say something. He held a one-sided conversation to tell her how he was doing, the D.O.T. had won but he was glad to have the money for the small parcel of land, and it wasn’t going to have that much impact on his property, although it was upsetting. And he informed her the Bantries were thinking of selling and he wished he had the money to buy them out.
City Boy, Country Heart: Contemporary Western Romance (Heart of the Boy Book 2) Page 6
