by Maisey Yates
* * *
HE SHOULDN’T HAVE said it. He knew that the moment the words were out of his mouth and her eyes darkened. Talking about all of that wasn’t what he’d set out to do with the candles and the little picnic he’d arranged. All he’d wanted was to celebrate what they’d achieved and to see her smile.
But he hadn’t been able to kick his curiosity about her, and the more she didn’t want to talk about herself, the more he wanted to know. So he’d mentioned his uncle and his dad in the hope she’d offer something, yet she hadn’t. She’d only asked him questions, making him think about what was happening between them, reminding him of things he hadn’t wanted to think about himself.
Like the ranch and how much time he’d been spending in this yarn store, time he’d been spending with Charity, and how much more time he wanted to spend with her. Which wasn’t supposed to happen. Their affair was about being casual and fun. Neglecting his ranch in favor of being with her was neither casual nor was it fun.
He watched her face, feeling his chest get tight as she looked away, because he knew exactly what she’d say next. She was going to apologize.
“I’m sorry,” she said, confirming it. “I didn’t mean—”
“No,” he interrupted, angry at himself for even introducing the subject. “I don’t want you to apologize. It’s not your fault.”
“Okay.” The candlelight played over her pretty hair, turning it to brilliant flame, and he wanted to touch it, to stroke the soft silkiness of it. “So...what can I do about it?”
“Nothing.” He put the wine down, the tight feeling in his chest getting worse. “There’s nothing you can do about it. The problem is me, not you.”
He’d been telling himself a lot of lies over the past few weeks, he realized. That the tasks he had to do on the ranch could wait another few days, that he’d get to them eventually. That he didn’t need to be there 24/7. That this thing with Charity wouldn’t last that long since it was only sex.
Yet a couple of weeks had passed and being with Charity was still just as good now as it had been when they’d first gotten together—better even. And he couldn’t see the end of it. He didn’t know if he even wanted to see the end of it. Having her in his bed and in his house, laughing with her as he taught her how to hold a pair of knitting needles, talking with her about nothing in particular...
Small things. And yet they were starting to mean something to him.
She was starting to mean something to him, and that was a problem.
Caring in general was a problem, especially when he’d let down the only other person who’d meant anything to him.
His gran had brought him up with patience and love, even when he’d been a stupid teenager full of anger. Even when he’d been stealing cars and drinking and making her life difficult. And even though she hadn’t wanted him to leave for the circuit, she’d let him go.
But he shouldn’t have gone. He shouldn’t have left her. She’d had a fall and he hadn’t been there, and it had been a shitty repayment for all the years of care she’d given him. A shitty repayment after all the years of neglect from her own sons too.
It was a pressure, that care. It took up space and he needed that space for the ranch. That was where his caring needed to go, not to a person.
Then you know what you have to do, don’t you?
The tight feeling inside him clenched like a fist all of a sudden. Because yeah, he did know. This thing with him and Charity had to end and the sooner the better, before either of them got in too deep.
You’ll hurt her.
Garrett ignored that thought. She might feel regret, but surely not too much hurt. And after all, she’d never given him any sign that her feelings might be more involved than he thought. She was affectionate and warm, but he could sense the distance she was keeping between them; the whole conversation he’d tried to have about her medical career was a stellar example of that.
She wouldn’t care that much if he called a halt, right?
“Is this...?” Charity stopped, her voice sounding a little husky. “Are you trying to say you don’t...that you want to stop having casual sex?”
He studied her face, but apart from the soft husk in her voice, he couldn’t tell if this disappointed her or not. “Yes,” he said, because he had to be honest. “I think it might be better if we had a break. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled, but he could see how forced it was. “I understand. This was always supposed to be casual and fun, remember?”
Oh, he remembered. He remembered all too well. The first day she’d turned up, she’d ignited his passion and now she was igniting something else inside him. A deeper, more lasting feeling. But ever since he’d gotten back to Jasper Creek, he’d been trying to make up for the way he’d left, and even though his gran was gone, that didn’t mean he’d stopped trying.
Perhaps one day he’d eventually feel as though he’d done enough, but that day wasn’t today. And while that was happening, he didn’t have room in his life to care about anyone else. Even a woman as special as Charity.
Come on, you know the truth. You’re not good enough for her and you never were.
His heart ached. Of course he wasn’t. She was beautiful and fearsomely intelligent, and a high-flying ER doc. He was just a rancher. A guy who’d put his own wants above the needs of the woman who’d sacrificed her older years in order to look after him.
No, it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t ever work.
Charity was still smiling that terrible smile, the one that looked like she’d cut it out of a magazine and stuck it on her face. He knew what she was doing, that she was trying to be understanding and make it okay.
But it wasn’t okay, was it? She was hurt; he could see the glitter of it in her eyes.
“Don’t do that,” he said roughly, angry with himself for misjudging this because it was clear that he had. That she had feelings he’d missed. Or perhaps just hadn’t wanted to see. “Don’t pretend.”
She blinked, red lashes fluttering in the light. “Pretend? Pretend what?”
“Pretend that you’re not hurt.”
Her smile looked even more forced and her voice was rigid with calm. “I’m not hurt, Garrett. I always knew this was casual. I never wanted anything more.”
“Then why did you look like I’d slapped you just before?”
She blinked again, then looked away, pretty red lashes veiling her gaze. “I don’t understand what you want me to say.”
“How about giving me the truth?”
“I thought I did.”
“No, doc,” he said flatly. “You told me what you thought I wanted to hear.”
There was a long silence. Charity stared at the floor as if she was looking down into it for answers.
“But then that’s what you do, isn’t it?” he continued on, not sure why he was pushing. “You’ll do anything to keep the peace.”
She was silent a moment, before suddenly looking up, her gaze meeting his. “And what’s so wrong with wanting to keep the peace? How does getting angry ever help? It just puts needless stress on everyone.”
“I’m not talking about everyone,” he said before he could stop himself. “I’m talking about you, Charity.”
Her fake smile had slid right off and now anger burned in her eyes. She was beautiful like this, burning with her own passion and not with that thin and brittle veneer of calm. “What about me?”
“You telling me that it’s fine when it’s not. You pretending you’re not hurt. You giving me some bullshit about how you understand, how it’s okay. That you were only ever after fun and casual. I don’t want you to tell me that, especially because it’s not true. I can see it in your eyes.”
He thought she might look away at that, but she didn’t. “So what would happen if I told you that I have feelings for you? If I told you that I w
anted more than fun and casual? What would you say? What would it change?”
A pulse of electricity shot through him, though deep down he felt no surprise. She might not have given any sign that she felt anything for him, but some part of him had known.
And yet you carried on with her all the same.
Regret filled him, heavy and aching. He should have been more aware. He shouldn’t have been so selfish. It was another example of why it had to end. He’d already let down one woman. He didn’t want to let down another.
“You’re right,” he said clearly, because he had to be honest. “It would change nothing.”
Something bright glittered in her eyes, then it was gone.
“I can’t have a relationship right now,” he went on. “The ranch is important to me and I have to give it my full attention. Besides, you’re going back to Seattle after the centennial anyway.”
“And if I wasn’t?” She was sitting up very straight, her back rigid. “If I decided to stay here instead?”
He stared at her, shock rippling through him. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I...don’t know if I want to go back.” With a certain amount of precision, she put the glass down. “I don’t think I...ever made the decision to go into medicine. Dad made it for me. And I went along because, well, I wanted to make him happy.” She paused a moment. “He always wanted to work in the ER. It was his dream, not mine. But I went ahead and made it mine too, because after Mom died, he had to stay in Jasper Creek and look after me. He didn’t have a choice. He had to give up being an emergency physician because of me. And I...always felt that wasn’t fair. That it was my fault somehow.”
His heart contracted in his chest, a fleeting pain on her behalf for how she blamed herself. And for how love had set her on a path that wasn’t of her choosing. Because that was obvious to him now. She’d sacrificed years of her life doing something she hadn’t chosen for herself simply because she’d loved her father.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Your father made his own choices and he chose you, Charity. But you can’t live another person’s life, no matter how much you love them. I tried to live my dad’s and it didn’t work out. So now I’m trying to live my own. If you want to stay here in Jasper Creek, then that’s what you should do. But you need to do it for you, not for anyone else.”
“And what if I want to do it for you?”
He stared at her, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his head. “No. You can’t. I don’t want you doing anything like that for me.”
“Why not?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t know what a selfish man he was. She didn’t know how badly he’d let down the one person he wasn’t supposed to. The one person who’d been there for him and yet, when she’d needed him, he hadn’t been there for her.
He wasn’t worth anyone’s sacrifices, let alone Charity’s.
Garrett held her gaze. “Why not? Because I’m not what you think I am. I’m not a good man, Charity. I’m selfish and though I’m trying to do better with that, it doesn’t always work. You shouldn’t stay for me, understand?”
She only stared at him. “Why on earth would you think you’re not a good man?”
Dammit. He shouldn’t have said anything. “Why do you think?” he bit out. “My gran gave up a lot of years to raise me, years she should have spent relaxing and enjoying herself. Instead she was constantly bailing me out. Then, to make matters worse, I went off to do the same thing that got my dad killed. She didn’t want me to go, but I didn’t listen. I went anyway. And then she had a fall and I wasn’t there. After everything she did for me, after all I put her through, I left her just like Dad did.”
“You were eighteen, Garrett. You were a kid.”
“What does that matter? I knew better even then.” He held her gaze. “And I know better now. I don’t want you doing anything for me, sacrificing anything for me. I don’t want you changing your entire life for my sake. You did it once for your dad and I don’t want you doing it for me. Because you’ll regret it one day, Charity. Just like you’re regretting it now.”
More pain flashed through her eyes, like lightning. Bright one second, gone the next. “Okay,” she said, her tone utterly neutral. “I get it. And perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it would be for the best. I mean, I did come back here to leave behind the stress of medicine, and I really didn’t want any complications.”
She sounded so measured, so calm.
So goddamn fake.
Why does that annoy you? You don’t want her to fight you. You don’t want a relationship, remember?
It was true, he didn’t. And this was a good thing. Her not fighting him was exactly how it should go.
He ignored the pain that sank into his heart and forced himself to smile. “I had fun, doc. I really did.”
But her gaze when it met his was dark and she didn’t smile back. And she didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Then, abruptly she rose to her feet in a strange jerky movement. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I have to go.”
The pain settled more completely inside him, but he didn’t tell her to stay. It was better to do this now, before any deeper emotions had time to take root, before it would hurt her even more.
So all he did was nod. And he didn’t follow her as she left him alone in the store, sitting among the detritus of his failed picnic.
The remains of what he thought might be a broken heart sitting in his chest.
CHAPTER NINE
CHARITY DIDN’T WANT to go back to the farmhouse, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, gripping her little compass necklace tight even though there was no luck to be had from it now, she got one of the low-rent cabs that sat outside the Rusty Nail waiting to ferry the drunks home, and all the way back, kept her jaw locked tight against the pain that was sitting right dead center of her chest.
He didn’t want a relationship and she knew that. She’d always known that. Fun and casual was what she wanted too. At least, that was what she’d thought she wanted. Until he’d reminded her that he wasn’t up for anything more, and all she could think about was how much she didn’t want what they had going on to end.
How much she wanted to keep doing it, keep sleeping together, keep working on the yarn store together. Keep being together, period. She wanted his arms around her at night, wanted to wake up to his kisses in the morning. Wanted him teaching her how to knit, talking to her about the ranch, offering his calm, level viewpoint on her yarn store.
She just wanted him.
But he didn’t want that. He thought for some insane reason that he wasn’t worth making sacrifices for, and she didn’t understand why. Oh, she could see he felt terrible about his gran, that he felt he’d let her down, but he was wrong about that, so wrong.
He was a good man. A steady and loyal man. And he was blaming himself for actions he’d taken when he was an angry kid who didn’t know any better.
Maybe she should have stayed and told him that. Stayed and told him that she’d give up medicine and make a home here in Jasper Creek for him if she wanted to. That he couldn’t stop her, but what would be the point?
He’d been very clear he didn’t want a relationship and who was she to argue?
But he was right about one thing. She had sacrificed things for her father in order to make him happy. She’d sacrificed her own choices. In fact, she’d been living her father’s life for so long, putting his happiness above everything else that she didn’t know what she wanted for herself.
But Garrett couldn’t do that for her. She had to work that one out alone.
When she finally got back to the farmhouse, she could hear the others in the living room sitting around talking and laughing. Shooting the breeze the way they’d all done with each other for years.
Normally she would have gone in and joined them no matter how badly she
felt. She would have put her feelings to the side, pretended they weren’t there, that everything was fine. But tonight that was impossible, so she went past the living room and crept silently upstairs to the room at the back of the farmhouse that she’d chosen for herself.
“Hey,” Kit called as she went past. “You’re back early.”
Damn. She’d been hoping they wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah, we finished early,” she said over her shoulder as she went on up the stairs. “I’ve got a headache. Think I might just go to bed.”
She didn’t wait for a response, just went straight into her room and shut the door.
Then she crossed over to the bed and climbed under the covers, pulling them over her head, and turning her face into the cool cotton of the pillow. She closed her eyes.
No, she wasn’t going to cry. It was good he’d broken it off now. Better than later, when she might have developed feelings for him. She certainly didn’t feel anything for him now. Definitely not.
Yet her eyes prickled, tears starting in them, pain gathering tightly in her heart.
He didn’t want a relationship and she got that, she really did. So why hadn’t her heart got the message? Why did it persist in hurting like it was breaking apart?
Time passed—she wasn’t sure how much—but then she heard a quiet knock on her door. She ignored it, curling up around the pain in her middle, hoping whoever it was would go away. But they didn’t.
The door squeaked as it opened.
“Go away,” Charity said, her voice muffled from the pillow.
There was no response, but she felt the mattress dip as someone sat on the end of her bed.
Charity didn’t lift her head up. “I said, go away.”
“What happened?” It was Hope. “Kit said you dashed up the stairs like the hounds of hell were after you.”
Charity kept her face firmly in the pillow. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s Garrett, isn’t it?”
Oh great, so Pru was here too.
“No,” she said. “It’s not. Everything’s fine.”