AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’d never thought of it quite like that before. She seemed to have a knack for that, putting things in a different light, much as she did with her photography. And this light made him feel…he wasn’t sure what. Denying the man he’d practically worshipped? Denying the man who had encouraged him to explore what talent he had? He could never do that.
But had he been?
You’ve got a gift, son. It can enrich your life or make it hell. What it can’t be is ignored. Trust me, I tried.
He’d never forgotten what Dad had told him that day when he’d found the drawing Ry had done of Buckshot, his prized stallion. He’d carried it in his mind and chewed on it, as Dad said, and had come up with a raft of questions he wanted to ask.
But the very next day had been the last day, the final time he’d had with the man who had shaped all of their lives.
He had burned the drawing the day they got the news. And had never done another until he’d had to, once the leatherwork had taken off. He’d justified that by telling himself it wasn’t really art, it was simply a design, like a blueprint for the belt or saddle or whatever the project was.
And he’d never touched actual paints in his life. Just the thought hurt too much.
He felt more than saw her looking at him. She hadn’t questioned the obvious change in route. He fought the natural instinct to explain. He was so tangled up right now he was afraid of what might come out if he spoke. So he did what he usually did under those circumstances, stayed quiet. As Chance said, silent running.
He focused on driving as if he hadn’t done this route a dozen times. And he stayed quiet.
They went through Bertram and Burnet, where he thought about cutting south to Marble Falls and Johnson City, but kept going past the Buchanan dam and lake. She turned her head and looked out over the lake as they passed. He stayed quiet.
He took the turn onto SR16, dropping down to Llano, then continuing south. They passed the gates to many ranches, some he knew of and some he didn’t. He stayed quiet.
He was a little surprised she also stayed quiet. Most women he knew would have felt the need to at least break the silence. His mother always wanted to know what he was thinking. Sydney was such a dynamo, he didn’t think an hour went by without some phone call to some distant place. Ariel, maybe. Yes, she could do this. Chance had told him once that some of the best times were when he and Ariel just sat quietly at night, reading. That when she looked up and simply smiled at him, he felt…healed. Ry knew what a tremendous breakthrough that was for his brother, and he would be forever grateful to the woman who had caused it.
Kaitlyn, on the other hand… Her silence was different. And he suspected it was born of uncertainty. No, maybe certainty. Certainty that he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. And yet again he had an extremely uncharitable thought about the woman who had done so much damage to her daughter.
When they hit the outskirts of Fredericksburg, he realized with a little jolt that he’d gone two hours without saying a word. So much for that discussion he’d been determined to have with her. And she hadn’t said a word either. He didn’t think he knew another woman who could manage that. Maybe it was just a sign of how tangled up things had gotten.
When they pulled up at the inn, she jumped out the moment the truck was at a full stop. Anxious to get away from him?Not so fast, Ms. Kaitlyn.His resolve returned, albeit a bit late in the game, after the long, silent drive. But that discussion still needed to happen, and while it was nearly dark, it wasn’t really that late.
“You don’t have to walk me in,” she said hastily when he got out and came around the front of the truck.
“I’m a Texan, ma’am,” he said, exaggerating the drawl. “Of course I do.”
She kept giving him quick, sideways looks, nervously, like a rabbit who knew a coyote was in the area. When he started up the wide staircase with her, toward her second-floor room, she opened her mouth as if to say it again, then stopped and looked away.
At the door to her room, she unlocked it then stopped. He heard her take in a deep breath, then she turned to face him. And when she spoke, her voice was smooth and even, as if she’d practiced what she was going to say. Maybe she had.
“I know you’ve said to stop apologizing, but this one is necessary.” He started to speak, but she didn’t stop. “I’m sorry for what I thought last night. I should have known better.”
“Yes, you should have,” he said, his own voice a little tight. The memory still rankled.
She gave him a sad smile then. “I apologize for the insult, for thinking even for a minute that you would want or expect that. From any woman, but especially me.”
His annoyance vanished at her last three words. That qualifier that put her words in an entirely different light. And he didn’t like it any better than he had liked her assumption last night.
“So are you saying thinking I expected sex as a payment was the insult, or thinking I might want it with you was the insult?”
“Either. Both.”
It took every bit of what patience he had left to ask evenly, “Why?”
“Why?” She looked genuinely bewildered. “Why would you want…me?”
She put special emphasis on the “you.” As if he were on some other plane than her. And he knew that was what she thought. He couldn’t decide if it was the most pitiful or the most heartbreaking thing he’d ever heard. Both, maybe. And he couldn’t think of a damned thing to say in answer.
But he could think of something to do.
“Maybe this is why,” he said, moving even as he spoke. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head back. And kissed her.
