City Girl

by Arlene James

  She would not let him see her cry. Pride dictated that she spare herself that final humiliation. Perhaps she had lost her quest for love, but at least she still had her pride, and she hugged it to herself consolingly. As she moved stiffly along the edge of the gurgling little stream, she was numbly aware of Garrett getting to his feet and moving toward the horses.

  An outcropping of rock jutted over the creek bed in one spot, and she climbed atop it, stepped cautiously over the chasm between it and the rock formation on the other side, and began doggedly to climb the sloping, rivuleted face of the dome, ignoring her tears and the pain that pushed up from deep inside her body. Presently she had mastered the smallest peak of the granite mountain, and she peered from its summit to the creek below. Garrett sat upon the rock where he had stowed the saddles, holding the reins of both horses in his hands. He had saddled their mounts while she scaled the miniature mountain. Resignedly she took a firm grip on herself, snapped the front of her blouse closed, and began her descent.

  Crystal marveled at her own control. She knew that she was very close to breaking down. She only desired the privacy and comfort of her room in which to do it. There she could let it out, cry if she must, even mourn the lifeless carcass of her naive dream. But now was not the time for that, not while Garrett Dean was around to view the shambles he had made of her heart.

  Garrett came to his feet as she approached, striding crisply across the sandy ground, arms swinging straight at her sides. Her hat was on the ground at his feet, and he bent to retrieve it, holding it out for her to take. She snatched it from his hand, afraid to come into physical contact with him, and jammed it on her head. A look of surprise sharpened the planes of his face. She looked quickly away, unable to encounter those breathtaking blue eyes.

  "Would you like to ride around the base of the rock?"

  His voice revealed an exhaustion she had not realized was there before, and she shook her head decisively. "No. I want to go ho… back to the house."

  He peered past her at nothing in particular, nodded tartly, and shrugged. "Whatever you say."

  She took the reins from his hand and determinedly jacked up her leg to work her foot into the stirrup, brushing aside the arm he offered in assistance. She pulled and wiggled her way into the saddle, while he stood aside, calming the mare with a gentle stroke on her soft black muzzle.

  The tension between them was unbearable. Crystal jerked at the reins, but Garrett held them fast in his hand, stroking Sweet Momma's head with the other.

  "Honey, wait a minute," he began, but Crystal was in no mood to wait. She needed to be away from him in a safe place where she could let the hurt out. Again she jerked at the reins, and this time succeeded in whipping them out of his hands. "Crystal, stop!" he shouted sternly. "I have to talk to you." But she had already reined the horse around and was kicking her into a canter toward the trees.

  She heard him calling for her to wait, and it was like a spur nudging her side and urging her onward even faster than before. She dug her heels into the mare's flanks, lashing out with the reins, demanding speed from the usually docile animal, trying to put distance between herself and Garrett. The sound of the paint's hooves beating the ground came suddenly to her ears, and she knew that Garrett was chasing her.

  The mare whinnied, now caught up in the chase and straining against the reins. Tree limbs were crashing around her, knocking away her hat and pulling at her flying hair. Suddenly she was terrified as the excited horse beneath her broke into a fresh surge of strength and speed. Desperately she jerked at the reins, pulling them to her chest, completely forgetting Rick's instructions about keeping them low, and the horse, eyeballs rolling frantically, reared in mid-stride, lunging free of the trees.

  Crystal screamed, and again the terrified horse reared, thrashing against the cruel bit and the constraint of the reins. From the corner of her eye Crystal caught sight of Garrett leaning out from his saddle to grab the reins from her. An unreasonable resentment surged forward in her, momentarily blocking out the panic and fear. Stupidly she yanked back, twisting away from him at the same time, and the horse reared for the final time, higher than before, forelegs pawing the air frantically.

  She felt herself falling, falling, landing hard on the clumpy ground, with the horse coming down on top of her. Like a slice of time out of sync with the universe, Crystal watched the horse pitching backward. Her last conscious thought was to wonder, almost calmly, what an animal like that would weigh.

  Chapter Eleven

  Crystal tried to open her eyes in the darkened room, but the effort was too great. She let herself slide back toward the stupor of unconsciousness. From somewhere in the distance she heard a voice calling her name. She tried to think who it was, but her brain would not cooperate, and she was too weary to pursue it. All she wanted was to sleep, to rest, to ignore the dull ache in her head.

  Sometime later she woke to pitch blackness and the sound of soft, deep breathing. For a long moment she tried to think what had happened. Something in the back of her brain nudged her to remember, and then suddenly it all came flooding back: that headlong flight through the trees, the mare rearing and her scream, the hard ground coming up to smack her painfully, and the eerie, slow-motion movements of the horse as it fell backward.

  Carefully she tried to move her legs and arms, then fell back in relief as she realized that she was all together in one stiff, sore, aching piece.

  Her mind shot instinctively to the horse. Had she killed that animal? She wouldn't be surprised. She had acted so stupidly, had panicked, and nearly succeeded in killing herself. The way she had jerked the horse back on top of her, it was entirely possible that the lovely, gentle mare had broken her neck or a leg. They shot horses with broken legs, didn't they?

  In her exhausted, confused state, Crystal found herself crying. Without realizing it, she spoke the horse's name, apologizing for the damage she might have wrought. "Sweet Momma."

  There was a quick stirring in the darkness beside her. Instantly a light flicked on, and Crystal shielded her eyes from it, flashes of pain racking her skull.

  "Thank God!" she heard him say, and looked up to find Garrett, weary, unshaven, and bleary-eyed, standing beside the bed.

  The pain subsided somewhat, and Crystal let her hand fall back to her side, each movement bringing a new ache. He smiled down at her and pulled the chair in which he had been dozing closer to the bed and sat down.

  "Where am I?" she moaned, peering through the dim light.

  He laid a cool hand on her forehead, appeared satisfied, and withdrew it, running it through his tousled golden hair. "You're safe, honey," he comforted in a low, velvety voice. "You're in your room, and everything's all right."

  "My room? But why are you here?" she questioned weakly, and tried to struggled up on one elbow, but his firm, strong hands pressed her gently back onto the bed.

  "Just lie still. You're going to be sore for a few days, but you're all right—at least, you will be soon. Now, go back to sleep. You need your rest."

  Obediently Crystal closed her eyes and slipped off on a comfortable cloud of blankness. She needed to think, but not now. She would think tomorrow. Tomorrow.

  She woke in the morning to the sound of water gushing from a spigot somewhere in the distance and looked dully around her, eyes swimming hazily. Instinctively she tried to stretch, but pain shot through her, and she collapsed upon the bed, groaning with the effort. Her mouth was parched and gummy.

  At that moment Garrett stepped out of the bathroom, naked from the waist up, barefoot beneath his rumpled jeans, a fluffy white towel draped around his muscular shoulders. His blond head sparkled with droplets of water, and Crystal noticed that there were dark rings around his vivid eyes and a fuzzy shadow of beard on his jaws and chin.

  "Hi," he greeted with a smile. "Welcome back."

  Crystal tried to sit up, but immediately abandoned the effort, blushing as she realized that she was naked beneath the sheets. Garrett read the sud
den embarrassed panic in her eyes and laughed softly. "Don't worry," he consoled. "I didn't undress you. Lupe and the doctor did that." He smiled wickedly and rubbed his head with an end of the towel. "I didn't think I could trust myself, especially not after yesterday."

  The reminder brought sharp emotional pain with it, and Crystal visibly cringed, tugging the sheet up tightly beneath her chin. A cascade of questions flooded her head. She chose the safest one. "There was a doctor here?"

  Garrett nodded affirmatively. "I called him as soon as I got back to the house, but don't worry. He said that nothing was broken. The fall knocked you unconscious, but there doesn't appear to be a concussion." He moved toward the bed as he talked, and Crystal studiously avoided his eyes, determined not to let herself be caught in another potentially disastrous situation with him. "You're going to be sore for a while," he said, coming to stand at the edge of the bed, "but with a few more days' bed rest, you'll be fit again."

  Crystal nodded her understanding, still avoiding his eyes, and asked another troubling question. "The horse? Did I… did I kill her?"

  He cast gentle, pitying eyes at her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "No, honey, you didn't kill her. She'll be fine, too."

  Crystal breathed a sigh of relief at that. At least there was that much to be thankful for.

  "Now," Garrett abruptly changed the subject, "I'm going to have Lupe bring in a tray for you. I'll be back after I've changed and shaved." He rubbed a hand against his bristly beard, then reached out the same hand to lay it gently against her face. His touch nearly brought tears to Crystal's eyes. She lay very still, not wanting to encourage him to touch her again and not wanting him to remove his hand, either. He gave her a benevolent smile, withdrew his hand slowly, backed a few steps away, then turned and left the room, taking with him the last of his touch that she ever intended to feel.

  It was several minutes before Lupe came with the breakfast tray. Crystal just lay in her bed, numb on the inside, sore on the outside, and thought about what she would do about Garrett.

  When Lupe did come, she was full of chatter and admonishments, clucking her tongue in that mother-hen way of hers.

  "Child, you took ten years off old Lupe's life yesterday!" she scolded lovingly, "and I don't have them to spare, either!"

  Crystal apologized for the trouble she had caused, but Lupe shook her raven head.

  "You haven't caused me any trouble, child. I'm not the one who sat up all night with you. Garrett did that." Lupe's eyes filled with implications that Crystal could not bear to consider.

  No matter what Lupe might think, if Garrett had sat up all night with her, it had probably been out of a feeling of guilt. He probably felt responsible for her taking off at a blind gallop like that, but in all fairness, she knew that the entire affair was her own fault.

  He had never said that he loved her, only that he wanted her. She had hoped that it was otherwise, had fooled herself into believing that it could be. Now that she knew his true feelings on the matter, it was up to her to see to it that they never found their way into each other's arms again. Hadn't he warned her that it would be? Hadn't he said that he could protect her from everything but himself and that she would have to do that?

  Lupe went on clucking over her, fluffing pillows, tucking in the corners of the sheets, and finally producing a fresh, clean nightie for her. It took some doing to get- into the thing, but Crystal felt more relaxed once she was dressed and Lupe had brushed out the tangles in her long dark hair.

  Obediently Crystal nibbled at her toast and rice pudding, but she was not really hungry and asked Lupe to take the tray away. After her protests, Lupe reluctantly agreed and took the tray.

  "I'll tell Garrett he can come back now," Lupe stated with a smile, but Crystal shook her dark head slowly.

  "I don't want to see him again, Lupe," she announced flatly, sending pleading looks that clearly solicited the big cook's cooperation. A look of shock registered on the older woman's round face. "I mean it," Crystal reiterated firmly. "You're to tell him to stay away. As soon as I can, I'm leaving the Heritage, and I don't want to see him again until then. Tell him that for me, Lupe. He'll understand."

  Lupe started to nod blankly, dark brows wrinkling together. "Girl, I think that horse knocked a hole in your brain!" she exclaimed. "What's this all about?"

  Crystal shook her head wearily. "Never mind, Lupe, just tell him, please!"

  A look of exasperated disbelief darkened Lupe's face, but she backed away wordlessly and left the room.

  Thirty seconds after she was gone, loneliness engulfed Crystal. The thought of never seeing Garrett again brought the greatest pain she had yet experienced. The fact that it was the only sensible thing to do helped not in the least.

  Miserably Crystal pulled the covers over her head, trying to shut out conscious thought and the ache it produced. Outside her bedroom door she heard muffled voices, and then the unmistakable sound of Garrett's booming voice raised in anger. Crystal pushed back the covers, raising up gingerly on one elbow, thoughts darting helter-skelter through her muddled head.

  There followed a sharp rap on her door; then it burst open and Garrett came striding into the room.

  One look at his face told her that she had only now seen real anger on him.

  "What in heaven's name is this nonsense all about?" he roared, punctuating the air with a fist. "I don't get you at all! City women…"

  Crystal collapsed back onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut against his anger. She wasn't up to this. Surely he knew that. Her hands covered her face, fingers pressing hard against her temples.

  What did he expect of her, for pity's sake? Suddenly she discovered her own ire beginning to rise within her. It was absolutely cruel for him to provoke a scene at a time like this!

  "You know how I feel, Garrett!" she snapped, and dropped her hands into clenched fists at her sides. "You know that I can't be satisfied with a sordid physical relationship with you! How can you blame me for not wanting to be hurt again?"

  It was the first time she had ever seen Garrett Dean stupefied. His mouth dropped open in genuine surprise. Then the surprise gave way to amusement, and he roared with laughter.

  "Stop it!" she screeched, pounding the sheets with her fists.

  In a moment he was beside the bed. He knelt down to bring his face level to hers, reaching to take her hands in his own. "Oh, my silly darling!" he was saying. "I don't want to hurt you. That's precisely what I was trying not to do yesterday."

  Crystal's face went slack. She could say nothing, for her heart had leaped to her throat. She scarcely dared to hear him.

  "Why do you think I pulled away yesterday? I know you're the kind of woman who wants to wait," he explained softly, his blue eyes shining.

  "Wait?" she questioned. "I don't understand, Garrett. Wait for what?"

  He gazed at her a long moment, shaking his blond head disbelievingly.

  "For the wedding, of course. You will marry me, won't you?"

  Incredulity paralyzed her tongue. She dared not move, dared not think lest her ears were playing tricks on her.

  "I do love you, you know," he whispered, and his hand moved to stroke her cheek softly.

  Her breath came in a quick, life-giving rush. Her arms went around his neck.

  "Oh, Garrett! I didn't know! I didn't!" All the words suddenly tumbled out, one over the other, in a great gush of relief. "I thought you only wanted me. At first I thought it was because I looked like Maria, and then I thought maybe you did love me, and then when you pulled away, I thought that you didn't even like me! It was awful! I couldn't let you touch me again, not ever. I couldn't bear to see you! I…" She struggled up to a sitting position, ignoring the twinges of soreness. "Tell me again, Garrett," she finished in a breathless whisper.

  His laughter was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. Easily, so as not to rock the bed and cause her pain, he moved himself to sit facing her. "I love you."

  And Crystal
's own laughter bubbled over and joined his.

  Gently his forefinger tapped the end of her nose. "I wasn't sure of you at first," he admitted quietly, and shrugged. "There is a lot of difference between ranch life and city life, Crystal. I had to be certain that you could make it out here."

  "But of course I can!" she exulted. "I love this place." Her hands caressed his face, and he captured one palm and pressed his lips into it.

  "It was Maria, you see," he explained hesitantly. "She couldn't take it out here. She came back after four years at the university so full of sophistication and glamour." He laughed beneath his breath, shifting his eyes from her face to nothing in particular. "I guess those things attracted me even then," he said. "That's when I first noticed her, when we first thought we loved one another." He sighed, remembering. "She wanted places to go and things to do, excitement." He shrugged. "The kind of excitement I couldn't give her out here."

  His brow furrowed, and he traced a wrinkle in the sheet that curved up onto her thigh, causing her skin to tingle with pleasure.

  "It put a strain on our marriage," he continued quietly. "We began living apart." His eyes swept the room. "Sleeping apart. There were fights. One night she ran out of the house barefoot and in her nightdress." He took a telling breath and rushed to finish the story. "We found her later. She had fallen. Broken neck."

  Crystal's hands went out to push themselves through his coarse gold-streaked hair.

  "And you blamed yourself," she supplied simply.

  He lifted his eyes to her face and attempted a smile, shaking off the gloom. "Wouldn't you?"

  "Maybe," she replied honestly, "but it still would have been senseless." The light in his eyes said that he agreed—and that it didn't matter anymore.

  "Hey," he said abruptly, giving her shoulders a delicate shake, "you still haven't given me an answer. What's it to be? You going to stay a city girl forever, or are you going to be my wife?"