“I can bring some sandwiches down to the barn later.”
“Thanks, but I doubt I’ll have much of an appetite.”
“Jarrett.” She waited for him to meet her gaze. Her green eyes shone with compassion he didn’t deserve. “People in pain lash out at convenient targets. No one knows that better than physical therapists. You should hear some of the names I’ve been called.” She squeezed his hand. “Vicki didn’t mean it.”
He flinched away from Sierra’s touch, recalling all the lustful impulses he’d had down by the stables—the exact kinds of thoughts his sister would have expected of him. “She meant every word.” He strode down the hall toward the front door. He needed to get outside, where he could breathe again. Out of this conversation, which made him feel as if he was suffocating on his own shame. “And she wasn’t wrong.”
Sierra followed after him, too close, crowding him. “I may not have known you very long, but—”
“Let it go. Forget about me, and focus on taking care of my sister,” he said, opening the door. “That’s what I pay you for.”
She exhaled in an angry huff, but Sierra wasn’t one to give up easily. “I’m more than just an employee. I’m your friend.”
Friend? The word was so simple and benign, but it didn’t begin to cover what he felt for her. “No.” He stepped into bright autumn sunshine that did nothing to warm him. “You aren’t.”
* * *
THE LAST THING Sierra expected to see when she opened her eyes was Jarrett’s face peering down at her in the dark. She jolted upright on the couch, nearly banging their skulls together.
He moved back just in time to dodge the head wound, and she saw he was holding a quilt. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered. “You looked so peaceful, I was going to cover you up and let you sleep down here.”
“I must’ve drifted off while reading. What time is it?” she asked, smothering a yawn.
“A little after midnight.” Moonlight through the window silvered his profile as he turned toward Vicki’s closed door. “How is she?”
“Hard to tell. She barely said a word all night, but I curled up on the sofa with a book so I’d be close in case she needed me.”
Vicki’s earlier anger seemed to have drained away, leaving quiet despondency in its place. Figuring that someone who’d had her heart broken was entitled to one day of moping, she’d decided to give Vicki until morning before pressing her to talk or resume her therapy exercises. Sierra hadn’t even bullied her patient into eating dinner. Although she’d cooked enough food for three people, she needn’t have bothered. Shortly before seven, she’d seen Jarrett’s truck drive off. He hadn’t told them where he was going or when he would be back.
She arched her back, stretching. “You didn’t go rough up Aaron, did you?”
“If I did, wouldn’t I be pretty dumb to admit the crime to someone else?”
“Depends on how much you trust me. I could be very useful if you needed an alibi.” She caught the brief gleam of his smile flash in the dimness. Earlier, she’d been reading by the light of a table lamp. He’d obviously turned it off when he’d decided to let her spend the night downstairs.
He sat in one of the armchairs, retreating into shadow. “Reckon I do trust you. Enough to tell you the truth.”
“About where you were tonight?”
“Just shooting pool. I meant the truth about Vicki’s accident.”
Her breath stilled in her lungs, almost as if she were afraid the slightest movement would spook him and that’d change his mind. It wasn’t that she wanted Jarrett to confide in her to appease some morbid curiosity; she wanted him to open up because she believed it would be good for him. Whatever misplaced guilt he felt over Vicki’s accident, maybe talking about it would help him move past it. So she waited, motionless, hoping he took her silence as encouragement.
“That stuff she said this morning... About me and relationships?” His bark of laughter was full of self-deprecation. “Not that I ever experienced anything close to a real relationship. She was right about that. I liked women a lot, and I liked a lot of them.”
“Not unheard of for an attractive man in his twenties,” she said softly. Nonetheless, she didn’t want to dwell on the thought of him with these faceless women.
“The night of Vicki’s crash, she and I were supposed to go to dinner. I’d been on the rodeo circuit. She’d been away at college. We hadn’t seen each other in months, and she caught a ride with a friend to come watch me compete. Then I blew her off.”
She put the pieces together. “For a woman.”
“I’m not even sure what her name is,” he said raggedly. “I’ve narrowed it down to something starting with a T. That’s how lousy a brother I am. I stood up my own sister. I sent her home in my truck so I could have a couple of naked and sweaty hours with a blonde stranger.”
She tried to imagine how she’d feel if one of her brothers had done that, but she didn’t have the kind of relationship with any of them that would have led to a one-on-one dinner anyway. They got together for group events as a family, but she wasn’t friends with any of them. For the first time, that struck her as sad. Maybe she should take some initiative when she went home for Christmas to get to know her brothers better.
“My parents were devastated by the accident,” he continued. “I’m not sure they’ve really recovered. Vicki was a sweet, enthusiastic kid with a bright future. You’ve only seen the angry Vicki who—”
“She still has a bright future,” Sierra interrupted. “As you yourself pointed out today, she’s not staying in the wheelchair. She’s young and resilient. Her progress since I’ve been here has been tremendous. There’s no reason she can’t be back in college next semester.”
“I hope she is. But I have no idea what the next few months will bring for my father. During Vicki’s second surgery, he collapsed of a heart attack.”
Sierra winced at the unfortunate overlap. “And you blame yourself for that, too?”
“The timing was no coincidence.”
Probably not. But she suspected stress was only a trigger in conjunction with other causes. “A heart attack involves half a dozen factors, from genetics to eating habits. Shouldering sole blame for it is the height of self-absorption. The world doesn’t revolve around you, cowboy.” She said it lightly, but that didn’t make the statement less true. “If you’ve made bad decisions in the past, start making better ones. But beating yourself up for other people’s decisions—like the guy who chose to get behind the wheel after he’d been drinking—is a one-way ticket to crazytown.”
For a moment, Jarrett didn’t say anything. She hoped she hadn’t sounded too cavalier about what his family had suffered, but he needed to accept that he couldn’t change the past. What happened next, however, was entirely up to him. Vicki wasn’t the only one who needed to move forward with her life.
“You don’t think I’m a terrible person?”
“I think you’re a person, period. We make mistakes.” She could offer him forgiveness all day long, but it wouldn’t solve the underlying problem. “Really, my opinion is irrelevant—this is between you and your sister. Have you apologized?”
“For a solid week after the accident, all I can remember saying to her is ‘I’m sorry.’ The words are damned inadequate, though.”
“They’re a start. Don’t fall back on words alone. Be there for her.”
“Even when she tells me to go the hell away?”
“Especially then. Obviously, there are moments she’ll need her space, but too much space is just avoidance. Let her know you’ll be there when she’s ready to reach out.” She yawned again. “Meanwhile, if I’m going to be there for her tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.”
“Sorry. This conversation probably should have waited until daylight hours. But honestly
? It was easier to tell you in the dark.”
She could understand that. But this midnight confessional had an air of intimacy that made her uneasy. On the day the Rosses had hired her, she’d told Vicki, “I don’t do ‘bonding.’” She’d said it to stem Vicki’s argument that they weren’t going to become friends, but, looking back, she realized the words had a lot of truth to them. She had plenty of acquaintances back in Dallas, but no one she missed enough that she’d called them during her time in Cupid’s Bow. She loved her family from a distance. She was actively dodging her mom and couldn’t recall an instance in her adult life when she’d sought out a brother’s company just because she wanted to spend time with him. She’d slept with Paul for months, but she hadn’t loved him. Was she emotionally stunted?
Nonsense. She blamed the uncharacteristic melancholy on the late hour. When she met someone worth falling in love with, she’d give it her all. Meanwhile, why settle?
She stood. “Are you coming upstairs, too?”
“Eventually.” His tone was sheepish. “I thought I’d check the kitchen to see if there were any more brownies left. You’re a hell of a baker.”
“Nah, my family’s housekeeper is a hell of a baker. I’m just an adept student. Good night, Jarrett.”
“Night.”
She’d made it to the bottom of the staircase when he softly called her name.
“Sierra? Just so you know, your opinion is relevant. What you think matters to me.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to make a joke—to tell him she was glad, because she had plenty of opinions. But she couldn’t do it. Instead, she climbed the steps, swallowing past a sudden lump in her throat. You matter to me, too, cowboy.
* * *
SIERRA WAS GROGGILY pouring her second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang on Saturday morning. Smoothing a hand over the hair she hadn’t bothered to fix yet, she trudged to the front door. It wasn’t until she opened it and saw Kate Sullivan standing there that she remembered they’d scheduled a breakfast meeting. They were supposed to go over all the booths and game areas with Vicki and figure out how best to use the ranch.
“Crap!”
Kate blinked. “Well, hello to you.”
“I am so, so sorry.” Sierra stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “It was a rough night here. Vicki’s boyfriend broke up with her yesterday.”
“Ouch.”
“I completely forgot we were supposed to get together, and since she’s still in bed, I’m assuming it slipped her mind, too.”
“Understandably,” Kate said, her expression sympathetic.
“I can go wake her up, but—”
“How about we reschedule? Although, it will need to be soon. The festival is almost upon us.”
“Tomorrow?” Sierra said. “I swear we’ll have our acts together by then. I’d volunteer for us to come to you so you don’t have to make the drive again, but that kind of defeats the purpose of you getting the lay of the land here.”
“Tomorrow, huh? We have a big family lunch planned after church, but my schedule is open once that’s over. And don’t worry about me making the trip twice. Gram’s farm isn’t far. Besides, driving over here gave me a few minutes of peaceful solitude on a pretty day.” She smiled. “When you’re a parent, you appreciate those moments whenever you can get them.”
“Thanks.” She appreciated both Kate’s understanding and her efforts to mitigate Sierra’s chagrin. “After I have a chance to talk to Vicki, I’ll text you about a time.”
“Deal. But since I’m here, I wanted to ask you—are you busy tonight? Cole and I are going dancing. Want to come?”
“On your date with your fiancé? I appreciate the invitation, but I’d hate to be a third wheel.”
“About that.” Kate shifted her weight. “Cole’s brother is planning to meet us there. Will Trent? You met him earlier in the week? When I told him you and I were working on the festival together, he mentioned he’d like to see you again.”
“So this would be a double date?”
“Not at all. I just thought you might like a night out on the town before you leave Cupid’s Bow. But, in the sense that I will be there with a handsome man and there will be another handsome man hoping to dance with you...” She widened her eyes, all innocence. “I can see where someone might think of it as a double date.”
Sierra laughed. “If I ever decide I want to learn subtlety, I know who I’m coming to for lessons.”
“I was once a straightforward person, but being the mother of a teenager is making me sneakier. Luke’s a good kid, but he’s got enough of a rebellious streak to resist the direct approach. I often have to disguise requests or make something seem like it was his idea in the first place. Not that I’m comparing you to a stubborn thirteen-year-old,” she added hastily. “So, will you join us tonight?”
Sierra hesitated. On the one hand, she felt as if she should be here for Vicki. But if Vic was going to hole up in her room again, two nights in a row of couch vigil seemed lonely. You can ask Jarrett to hang out with you. They could play a board game or watch a movie. She thought about the two of them alone in the living room, recalling last night and the conflicted feelings that had kept her awake long after she’d crawled into bed.
“I’ll go,” she blurted.
“Yay! It’s a date.” Kate grinned. “Unofficially.”
Sierra said that she wanted to take her own car, in case she was needed back at the ranch, and they agreed to meet at eight o’clock. By the time Sierra made it back to the kitchen, her coffee was cold.
Rinsing out her mug, she considered the night ahead. I have a date with Will Trent. Maybe not an official one—he hadn’t even asked her himself—but she was spending the evening with an amusing, attractive man. So why didn’t she feel more enthusiasm? Being out with him would probably be more fun than sitting around the Twisted R on a Saturday night.
It would definitely be less complicated.
Chapter Eleven
At nearly eleven, Sierra finally went in to check on Vicki, who mumbled “go away” and yanked the sheet over her face with her good hand.
“Sorry, kid.” Sierra pulled the linens away. “All parties have to end eventually, and I’m declaring this pity party officially over. You’ll feel better after a shower.”
“I’ll feel better when Aaron flunks out of history.” Vicki glared. “Do you know he actually had me edit his paper before telling me he was seeing someone else?” She let out a shriek of fury.
“Bastard.” Sierra wanted to take the anger as a good sign, but there’d been anger yesterday, too, before the despondency. “He’s definitely not worth your lying in bed all day crying over him. He’s a pig.”
“That’s an insult to pigs everywhere,” Vicki said as they got her into her chair.
With the shower running, it took Sierra a moment to realize that the sound of someone knocking wasn’t her imagination. “Okay,” she said aloud, “there’s no way I forgot two appointments today.”
She answered the door, nearly bowled over by a trio of girls talking at once. It was hard to make out what each of them was saying, but she caught phrases here and there.
“Is Vicki okay?”
“...that rat Aaron...”
“...never be allowed to set foot in the Zeta Gamma Mu house again. Lifetime banishment!”
Sierra whistled to get their attention. “I take it you ladies are friends of Vicki’s?” she asked once they were quiet. When they all opened their mouths to speak, she held up a hand. “One at a time, please.”
“Not just friends,” answered a curvy girl who’d cut the bottom of her sorority T-shirt into strips, creating a fringed crop top. “Sisters.”
The three of them could almost pass for sisters. They were each about the same height wi
th long, straight hair, although coloring and body shape varied.
The one in the middle wore glasses and was slender as a reed. “I’m Jemma. That’s Bree and Matisse. Her mom’s an art professor.”
The girl in the altered T-shirt nodded. “I have brothers named Claude and Blue.”
“We came as soon as we got Vicki’s text,” Bree said. “She sent Matisse a message last night—”
“But I’d accidentally left my phone in— Not important.”
“Can we see Vicki?” Jemma asked.
“Absolutely.” Sierra ushered them inside. Their company might be exactly what Vicki needed. While bad breakups sucked, venting to friends about guy troubles was such a reassuringly normal thing for a nineteen-year-old to do. Not like trying to reteach your legs how to support your weight or keep your pelvis perfectly aligned during standing exercises. “I’ll just let her know you’re here.”
They trailed her down the hall, waiting as she went into Vicki’s suite and knocked on the bathroom door. “Vicki? You have visitors.”
The terse “who?” from the other side didn’t sound very welcoming, and Sierra hoped she wasn’t wrong about Vicki needing her friends right now. “Um, Jemma and—”
“My girls!” The door opened, and Vicki wheeled into the room.
High-pitched squeals and greetings ensued.
Sierra winced at the decibel. “I’ll, uh, leave you guys to catch up.”
Matisse beamed at her. “Don’t worry. We’ve got it from here.”
* * *
JARRETT GLANCED AT his watch. His stomach was growling and it would be nice if he had time to grab some lunch while he was in the house, but Mrs. Wilcox would be here in less than ten minutes for her boys’ riding lessons. He was already pushing it by going inside to change; a morning of tractor repairs had left him covered in grease.
Falling for the Rancher Page 11