by A. C. Wilson
Why wouldn’t he know the man? The lawyer was from Hot Springs.
“Have you physically met with him yet?” Garrett’s sudden alertness made her tense. This definitely didn’t feel right. His hands had even stopped massaging her foot.
“No, not yet. We are scheduled to meet the day after my father’s funeral.”
“Don’t see him by yourself.” He shook his head and looked into the fire. The tiny flames were licking to life. “Better yet, I’m going with you.” His tone brooked no argument and Rayne wasn’t sure she wanted too. Suddenly she was feeling very out of her depth and less in control. It was a feeling that had never sat right with her.
Chapter 7
Rayne looked around the living room of her father’s house and screwed up her face in disbelief and disgust. Everything had been pulled away from the walls and seemed to be piled in the middle of the floor. The old limp curtains had been removed from over the windows and there was a steady stream of sunshine coming into the room despite the mounds of snow outside. The house really was neglected and it hadn’t been cleaned since Lord knew when! She tried not to think about the endless years that her father had been here…alone. She tried not to think about when her life as she knew it had come crashing down.
“This is hot. I put soap in it and found a couple of old rags under the kitchen sink.” Garrett lowered a metal pail onto the floor. The house had to become a project if they were going to be bunking inside for a while. She offered a small smile as he pushed a heavy bookcase away from the wall. She watched as his thick biceps strained against the cloth of his shirt.
He’s afraid to leave me in here alone. That was probably closer to the truth. He hadn’t pressured her for an answer, but it didn’t take a psychic to know that the past, her past, was troubling. Still it didn’t make her feel better to have him always looking at her as if a time bomb were about to explode.
“Did I mention I hate to clean?” She looked at Garrett out of the corner of her eye and put her hands on her hips. “No really! I HATE to clean! I have the smallest apartment possible so that I don’t have to clean…much.” She thought she heard him chuckle as he left the bookcase a good three feet from the wall. The spider webs were clinging to the wood paneling.
“It’s a job.” He reached for one of the rags and dunked it carefully into the steaming pail before wringing it out. Still the rag steamed as he took it to the paneling. The damp cloth left a sparkling pathway in between each side of grime. “If we didn’t focus our attention on this, we might be persuaded to find other things to do.” His soft brown eyes held a wickedly sensual glint as he brought his gaze to her, grinned and turned away. She glared at his back. His strong, well-muscled back. Growling under her breath, Rayne muttered as she tossed a couch cushion in his direction.
“It’s better than cleaning.” She pouted as she started going through a box that Garrett had brought her full of papers from the corner desk. There was no rhyme or reason to these papers.
“Good things come to those who wait.” Garrett said in a sing song voice. He didn’t look her way when she cast another dirty look his way. She guessed at least he was doing the web removal and that of any of the gigantic dust bunnies.
“Yeah, well, I should get something really good if that is true!” Rayne said back to him without really realizing that it was more than just a bit true. She had been waiting for a long time for something good. Something that would be worth all the risks needed to keep it. Something that wouldn’t destroy her in the end.
“I think it all depends on how you look at it.” Garrett crouched down next to the paneling and made large swipes with the hot cloth. The wood gleamed where it was clean. Rayne swallowed her usual caustic remark and gave his tone thought.
“Which means?” She prompted after realizing he wasn’t making fun of her. He was being serious in his country cowboy way.
“It means that you may not have wanted to come back here, even under these circumstances, but it could be the best thing for you.” His brown eyes met hers and held. Rayne tried to focus past the loud roaring of blood pounding in her ears.
He just said my coming home was a good thing! What the hell does he know! Rayne turned her head away and tried to focus on the papers in her lap. Her vision blurred with the anger and the hurt of it all. Garrett didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know anything. Her hands fisted in her lap as she fought for control. It frustrated her because she was always in control. Now, this place, had stripped her bare. She was an emotional wreck, who was trapped inside with a philosophical cowboy that happened to be sexier than he had any right to be!
“I know you don’t want to share the darkest secrets of your past with me, but I would listen. I don’t feel like we are strangers, Rayne.” His voice was soft and it confused her to no end. His words made sense to her, but she wondered if he felt entitled to her most private thoughts?
“Garrett, we are strangers. The only difference here is that we are strangers who have slept together.” She inwardly winced at the harsh words. It wasn’t fair of her to claw at him the way she did. If she were thinking straight, she would have been flattered by his words. He was sincere. Just for now she wanted him to stop talking about anything that came so close to home. The room was quiet. Even the crackling sounds of the fire seemed to be on mute. She sat so still on the couch, almost sure she was going to throw up. The judgment, her own judgment, cruelly gnawed at the pit of her stomach.
“You’re right.” His tone was just short of being sharp and he took a deep breath. Rayne felt like she were waiting on pins and needles for him to share his anger, instead the opposite surprised her. “We didn’t do much sleeping though.” His broad shoulders shrugged. Her eyes widened, waiting for the other shot to come, but he simply turned back to his work. It was a full minute before Rayne realized her hands were trembling and she hastily clutched them in her lap.
Where had his anger gone? Why didn’t he take the bait? Oh there was no denying she was baiting him! She wanted to fight. She wanted to damn near come to blows with him and all over something so stupid. She needed a good roaring row to make her blood boil and to make her feel alive. For far too long she hadn’t enjoyed living and each day was just an existence that hadn’t any justification. She simply went through the motions. Rayne looked towards Garrett and watched him work efficiently with the rag and hot water. He didn’t seem put off at all. If she had to guess, it was a matter already forgotten by him. She wished she could dismiss it that easily.
~~~
Garrett couldn’t put much focus into scrubbing the dirt and grime off the neglected pressed board paneling. His mind wandered to Rayne’s words. It was hard to mistake the wistful anger that came when she said waiting owed her something grand. He wasn’t an idiot. He had spent enough time with women to understand that they usually said exactly what they meant, but sometimes it just wasn’t in so many words. He took the blackened rag from the wall and plunged it back into the hot, soapy bucket of water. His skin flinched at the bite of the near boiling liquid. Quickly wringing it out, Garrett applied it back to the wall before sneaking a sideways peek at Rayne on the couch. A pile of papers sat in front of her, apparently receipts and old bills. She looked acutely uncomfortable after snapping at him. Her back was ramrod straight and her head bowed in a very odd position. Her hands were still. Swallowing hard, he wished she were back to trying to pick a fight with him. At least that way he would know where he stood with her and didn’t have to guess at what was going on in her head.
“Rayne, what happened here?” Garrett swallowed hard, wondering if he was doing the right thing by prying into the black abyss that stretched before them. He noticed a slight shake of her dark head.
“Do you mean what just happened now or what happened when I was a child?” Her words were soft, but there was still a bite to them. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him. “If you are referring to the first, then I’d have to tell you that you were pushing. If it is the
latter, well, it’s not something I want to talk about.” Her voice cracked at the end and he felt his stomach drop. He had been pushing her. Hell, he knew better than to do that with a strongly independent woman.
I’m asking, because I care. Already? He felt so out of his depth that he couldn’t respond to Rayne. This just wasn’t anything like him. He pushed women away who wanted more from him. He had never thought to experience any tender emotions until he wished too.
Boy, don’t I feel stupid! He did. Caring about Rayne had come as naturally as breathing. There was no taking that away. He wasn’t sure what to do about it either.
“How about you tell me why you are here with me besides being stranded in a snow storm, of course.” Rayne’s tone was clipped, but there was more warmth than before. He pressed his lips together thinking about what he could say. He had learned long ago not to be a hot head, but his temper had gotten the better of him before he stormed out on his dad.
“My dad and I had a difference of opinion about the Crossing Pines.” Garrett sighed as he threw the rag back into the bucket. The water rocked and sloshed a bit over the beveled side. Rayne raised her head, her eyes meeting his. Clearly she hadn’t expected him to answer from the sudden attention she gave him. He mentally smiled.
“A difference of opinion doesn’t usually send someone out into weather like this. I thought you understood South Dakota weather?” Rayne picked up a sheaf of papers and began to thumb through them. She quickly picked out the yellow and pink copies of receipts and made a pile. Garrett watched her nimble fingers and remembered how delicate they felt in between his own.
“That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. I let my temper get the better of me and I left without even taking the weather into consideration.” He skirted the bookcase in the center of the floor and bypassed the rickety chair he had sat in the night before. Rayne nodded, concentrating on her growing pile.
“What did you argue about?” She asked, reaching for more papers. He stopped next to the couch and realized there was nowhere to sit without crunching her piles so he perched his tall body on the arm. It was less than comfortable, but if he wanted to hear her story then he was going to have to tell some of his own.
“My dad wants to update his will so that if something happens to him, the Crossing Pines will be handed down instead of going into probate. He wanted to discuss giving my younger brother, Matt, the full possession of the ranch.” He gritted his teeth. It still hurt to think that his own father was bypassing the two older siblings for the younger one. Rayne’s face softened as a sculpted brow was raised. “My sister and I would get an inheritance in cash, but the ranch would go to my brother.” He let out his breath in a huff and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. He wished he had time to wonder why this was making him nervous. He hadn’t ever really discussed his family outside of his family before. He hadn’t gotten close enough to someone to do so.
“That seems rather harsh, but I guess it depends on his reasons for doing it. A sole owner of the ranch would keep you and your siblings from fighting over the day to day operations.” She tilted her head slightly to the side and considered him. Her golden eyes assessing and calculating. He felt the grip on his anger slide just a bit.
“To be honest, I haven’t been around the ranch as much the last few years as I would have liked. I have a business to run and a rather booming business at that! Since Matt got married last spring, I’ve been too swamped to do anything, but work.” It was totally true. Since Matt and Andy had gotten married in April, the things his brother had taken care of had fallen right into his lap. For weeks Garrett hadn’t been able to see straight until he’d hired on two more foremen to take the pressure off. Up until the last few months, he had thought he couldn’t want more, but now, being here with Rayne, he knew there had to be more than working everyday, all day and ending up alone.
“Have you talked to your brother? Maybe he doesn’t want the ranch.” Rayne’s words would have made so much sense had he not known that Matt loved the Crossing Pines as much as Garrett and Nora did. He shook his head.
“I haven’t talked to Matt or Nora about it. I didn’t plan on getting stuck here.” As soon as he said the words he wished them gone. Her clear eyes clouded over and she quickly refocused on her papers.
Shit! Why can’t I do anything right? Garrett closed his eyes and winced.
“Well you are free to leave just as soon as they clear the roads. Heck, you could take Maverick and head out right now.” Her anger should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He had been waiting for it. He was almost happy to see it. It meant that if she were angry with him, she cared. She’d agree with his mucked up words if she didn’t.
“Damn it, Rayne. You take everything so personally. We are stuck in all intents and purposes of the word. I’m not leaving here. I told you I would help and I intend to do that, whether or not you let me.” Garrett ran his fingers through his short dark hair and growled in frustration. There was more than anger that radiated off of her body. It confused the hell out of him.
“Garrett, I’m fine here. I don’t need you. I’m going to bury my father and sell this ranch. After that, I am headed back to Kansas. I’m not staying here.” Her lips twitched as she pressed them together. Her eyes never meeting his completely and when they fleetingly landed on his face, he saw the sadness there. She was more like him than he had realized. The difference was that she was going to fight it, when he wasn’t sure he wanted too.
“You can push all you want, but I’m not leaving you here alone. Call it hiding out or call it being a good neighbor, but I’m staying.” He took a deep breath and got up off the arm of the couch. He didn’t look back at her. He didn’t need to. The sharp intake of air spoke eloquently of her surprise. She had thought she’d won; however convoluted the thinking. He made his way back over to the book shelf where a silver CD player sat. Reaching for it, Garrett tipped it over and popped the battery door off. Surprised that there were batteries inside, he put the door back on and pushed the on button forward.
“That actually works?” Rayne asked and he smiled. She had been watching him.
“Looks like it. I wonder if your dad has any discs.” Lifting the circular door on top of the radio, Garrett was again surprised first by the cd and second that it was one of his favorite country artists. George Strait. The King of Country Music. Garrett smiled as he pressed the song number he wanted and pushed play. “The Cowboy Rides Away,” he said as he turned around. The soft lilting melody started to pour out of the speakers and Garrett leaned against the bookshelf.
I knew the stakes were high right from the start
When she dealt the cards I dealt my heart
Now I just found a game that I can’t play
And this is where the cowboy rides away
They stared at each other, clear emotions rippling through the overwarm air in the house. He felt a single bead of sweat slide down his spine. He had always loved this song and could almost sing it without the music, but right now, it never seemed more real. This was a high stakes game. Here his skills at bluffing and folding were non-existent and that scared the living hell out of him! There was nothing to cover his ass when he risked it all. He was making no self-deception. He would be risking it all on Rayne unless some unimaginable circumstance came to light. His stomach clenched.
I sure as heck hope it doesn’t. His brown eyes met golden ones across the room. I truly hope not.
Garrett heard the rest of the song play until the crooning of George Strait’s voice faded away. If he was any sort of a superstitious person, he would have been running for the Northern Hills. As fast as his heart was beating, his feet wouldn’t move from their rooted position on the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to take a calming breath. The heat from the fireplace only made his thoughts more cluttered and he knew he needed to get outside. The face-numbing chill of the wind outside would bring him back to the present. It might be out of the question to crack a window, so he straightened to
his full height and hit the stop button on the CD player.
“I think I should go back outside and scoop off the porch. It’s pretty deep out there.” He tucked his thumbs into his front pockets, tried to act like he wasn’t bothered. One look at Rayne and he knew she wasn’t fooled. Everything had changed.
Everything. He could only nod and vacate the room as quickly as possible. His head was shouting to get out! If he stayed longer he was going to spill his guts entirely. There still needed to be some sort of barrier until he knew for sure that Rayne would stay put. He wasn’t emotionally suicidal, but if he did confide in her all his darker secrets, she’d have the power to shatter him completely.
As he jerked on his coat and buttoned it up, he could hear some papers crunch in the living room. He and Rayne needed some distance. Space would be a challenge with the snow and nothing else to occupy them until the outside world reasserted itself. He almost couldn’t wait for that. As he swung the door open and stepped out onto the front porch, Garrett wondered just what it was that he really wanted. He welcomed the iciness of the whipping wind biting against his exposed face. It nearly stole his breath away. Turning his head to the side, he mentally prayed that the world as he knew it would right itself and his faculties would come back to him. He was in very real danger if they did not.
Chapter 8
Surprisingly there was water dripping off the tin roof of the dilapidated barn causing icicles to form and stretch towards the ground. The glare of the sunlight made him squint his eyes as he glossed over the drifted landscape. Large pine trees wilted with the weight of the heavy snow on their branches. The pressure of the snow had broken some of the less sturdy boughs and it was sad to see such devastation to trees in their prime. Garrett tried to take a deep breath of the frigid air, but his chest squeezed tightly. His ribs hurt from shoveling the snow at top speed all thanks to the mental demons plaguing him. He leaned his back up against the wooden railing of the porch and wiped a gloved hand across his brow. The shovel handle rested against his chest, his fist curled around it.