Homestead
Page 22
“Hell, Ella,” Clay muttered. “I need a little room right now. It’s…complicated.”
Ella smiled fleetingly. “I’m hearing that a lot. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look that way. Maybe you and Tess need to settle the business issues first so you can figure out the rest of it.”
“Yeah. About that—I’m working on it.” Clay told Ella about Pete Townsend and the pending rights deal.
“Damn. I should have figured that angle earlier,” Ella said. “I’m still not ruling him out as being behind the attacks.”
“Neither am I. Any news from the local law?”
“No. The sheriff thinks last night was just random vandalism, and the hit-and-run investigation is stone cold.”
Clay sighed. “Well, hopefully we’ve seen the end of it.”
“You staying put for a while?”
“I need to get out to the camp, see what shape the files are in. But first I need to make a call.”
Ella gave her a long look. “I’ll leave you to it, then. But when you get ready to leave, I’m driving. Deal?”
“Deal—and Ella, thanks.” Clay waited until the door closed and then placed her call. Miraculously she not only had a signal, but the call was answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Tess, it’s me,” Clay said.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Tess stood at the kitchen window, her back to the wood-burning stove, watching the rain scour trenches into the drive and collect in pools in the pastures. When she’d checked the creek on her way back to the house, it had already risen a couple of feet, and broken branches and other debris swirled in the roiling muddy water. If the storm kept up at the rate it had the last few hours, the creek would overflow and the fields would flood. Already, parts of the drive looked on the verge of washing out. Their prayers for rain had been answered, but God or someone was laughing.
“Tess?” Clay’s voice was staticky but strong.
“I’m here,” she said wearily. “Did you make it back all right?”
“Yeah, fine. How are things out there?”
“All right for now. Ask me again in twelve hours.” Tess hadn’t expected Clay to call—she hadn’t known what to expect. Part of her thought she’d driven her away, that she’d never see her again, and that part of her wept for all they’d shared and for the loss of all the magical moments that might have been. She couldn’t deny—didn’t want to deny—the hours they’d spent so deep inside one another there’d been nothing else—no past hurts, no present questions, no future fears. And the other part of her, the one that wanted to push her away and wanted her gone, resisted the rapid beat of her heart and the tingling that started in her throat and streamed through her like an electric charge at the mere sound of Clay’s voice. If she locked Clay out of her heart, she would be safe and her life would go on as it had been—hard but rewarding, solitary but fulfilling. After all, she wasn’t a teenager any longer—she was beyond taking risks and challenging the fates. Wasn’t she? “I think I might owe you an apology.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“I didn’t handle everything you told me this morning very well. I’m afraid I let my feelings get in the way of my judgment.” Tess thought about the stories she’d told herself all her life—of who she was, who Clay was, and who was to blame for writing an ending that broke her heart. “I was wrong to put it all on you. I—”
“No, you weren’t. I screwed up. Look, I’m headed out to the construction camp. I need to come by and talk to you.”
“Today?” Tess scanned the sky. The sun was a memory, buried behind a wall of dense black cloud. The rain gauge clamped to a post in the yard was filling fast, and the rain showed no sign of letting up. “That’s not a great idea. We’re getting an inch an hour, maybe more. That’s flood level, Clay, and the kind of flash floods we get around here can take a car under pretty fast.”
“I’ve got a big SUV,” Clay said with bravado that came clearly down the line. “But I’ll be careful. Can I see you?”
She should say no—even if Clay was crazy enough to travel in this, and of course she was, she should say no until she had more time to absorb everything she’d learned about Ray. Until she could find solid ground again. “The ground has only ever been solid with you.”
“What?”
When she wiped the clouds of disillusionment away, Tess knew with absolute certainty she’d never been more secure, more confident, and more ready to take on any challenge than when she’d been with Clay. She’d been managing just fine on her own, but the world had grown smaller and a little darker. “There’s something I want to talk to you about too. So if you can make it, you’re welcome to come by.”
“I’ll be there in an hour. Do you need anything?”
Tess smiled wryly. There were a lot of things she needed, but nothing she could ask Clay for. To rewrite the past was never an option for anyone, and she’d finally accepted that. To undo the secret dealings Ray had had with Clay’s father? Not Clay’s fault or problem to fix. To stop the rain before the crops drowned? Beyond anyone’s powers. To give her the strength to trust again? Only she could do that.
“Just get here safely,” Tess said, and as she spoke, she realized that was all she really wanted. She wanted Clay. “Just be safe.”
*
Clay texted Ella that she was leaving, and by the time she reached the SUV, Ella was behind the wheel.
“I’ve been listening to the weather and road reports,” Ella said. “A couple of the smaller roads are already closed—bridge washouts. I told Kelly to stay put at the trailer.”
“How are things out there?”
“A lot of the guys are out of the area for the weekend, so there’s only a skeleton crew on-site. Besides being wet and bored, they’re fine.”
“Kelly?”
“Dry and bored.”
Clay laughed. “Tell her she’ll get hazard pay.”
“Huh. I’m not sure that will be enough. She’s grumbling about not being able to sleep—too quiet.”
“Things have been quiet. Maybe we can let her head back.”
“Maybe.” Ella sounded cautious as she maneuvered carefully around a slew of branches, leaves, and bits of trash littering the road. “I was talking to the innkeepers this morning. They say this kind of storm always ends up bringing down a lot of trees—power outages and flooding are common.”
“We’ve got enough propane to run the generators for a week if the power goes down. Hopefully, we’ll be able to stay on schedule.”
“I think the guys are going to be grounded awhile.”
“I ought to be out there with them—if there’s a problem, I want to deal with it.” She hesitated. She had nothing to hide, and Ella wasn’t the type to make assumptions about anything—including relationships. But she had Tess’s privacy to consider. She’d let her down too many times, and she wasn’t going to continue. “First I need to talk to Tess. When we get to camp, I’ll take the Jeep over to Tess’s. You can keep the SUV in case you and Kelly want to leave.”
Ella turned her head, stared hard. “Clay—look out the window. Can’t it wait?”
Clay shook her head, her gaze locked on Ella’s. “It’s already waited fifteen years too long.”
“It’s not my business,” Ella said, turning on the county road leading to the job site, “but why the hell did you wait all this time? It’s pretty clear you still have feelings for her.”
“I told myself lots of reasons,” Clay said, “most of which were honorable and downright heroic. But the truth of it is, I was ashamed to face her. I didn’t deserve her then and I don’t deserve her now, but if I can figure out what to do so that I will, I want to.”
Ella shook her head, her laugh short and a little bitter. “I don’t think love has much to do with whether you deserve it or not. Maybe you just need to be lucky enough to recognize it and not blow it when you have the chance.”
“Voice of experience?”
“I thought my luck had run out the summer I lost Tess. Since then, I haven’t really cared how my risks paid off.”
“Well, I hope this time the odds are in your favor.”
“Thanks,” Clay said. “Is there anything else you and I need to settle?”
“I was considering a duel at dawn, but the weather kind of put an end to that idea.” Ella concentrated on the road. “I’ll tell you what I told Tess. I think Tess is a great woman. I’ve liked getting to know her. She never suggested we were going anywhere, so I’ll be glad if we can be friends.”
“So will I,” Clay murmured. She hoped there would be more than friendship for her, but Tess might not agree.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Hi,” Tess said, holding the side door open. “Come on in.”
“I’m pretty wet—maybe I should leave my boots out here,” Clay said, feeling awkward all of a sudden. Seeing Tess again was a punch to the chest. Even with worry in her eyes, Tess looked beautiful, her hair still damp, wearing a plain light-blue shirt, worn work jeans, and fuzzy gray socks.
“Don’t worry about it, everything is wet.” Tess followed Clay’s gaze down to her feet and laughed softly. “Just take everything off inside here. I’ve got a fire going in the kitchen, and you can dry out a little bit. Want some coffee?”
“Yeah, I could use some. Thanks.”
Tess backed up, still facing her. “Come on in, Clay. It’s safe.”
Clay realized she was still standing out on the porch, dripping onto the mat that said Welcome, hoping that she really was. She wanted to see the warmth of welcome in Tess’s eyes more than she’d ever wanted anything. If she could only have that, she’d be grateful, even if she did ache for more every day of her life.
“Unless you’re scared,” Tess teased gently.
“Terrified.”
Tess laughed, and grinning, Clay stepped into the parlor, a big room facing the front of the house with an antique rug the colors of the fields covering most of the random-width wood floor, a couple of big sofas, a fireplace that looked like it worked in winter but was barren now. Hand-hewn exposed beams framed the ceiling, crowning a room that spoke of history, of generations one with the land. “This place looks like you.”
Tess’s eyes widened slightly. “Thanks. It feels like me, but that always seemed like a funny thing to think.”
Clay took off her rain slicker, draped it on an iron coat rack next to the door, and kicked off her work boots. She set them on a tray next to a similar pair that must have been Tess’s. “I don’t think it is.”
“Well,” Tess said, all of a sudden not knowing what to do with her hands or any other part of her. What she wanted to do was grip Clay by the shirtfront, drag her closer, and kiss her until the rain disappeared and the only storm she knew was the one they made upstairs in her bed. Clay was like the land to her—alive and vibrant and powerful, filling a hunger as old as her soul. And she had the most kissable mouth.
Clay stared at her, as if reading the want burning beneath her skin.
Afraid to move too quickly, afraid of what she might do if she let up on her control, Tess slid her palms into the back pockets of her jeans and rocked slightly in her ridiculously unsexy gray work socks. Now was not the time to be thinking about escaping her life. What she needed was to get it set on the right course. “We should talk.”
Clay grimaced. “Now there’s a statement you never want to hear from a woman.”
Tess laughed and relaxed a little. Clay always seemed to be able to make her laugh, even when she was angry at her. “You know, sometimes you walk a very thin line.”
Clay shot her a brief but cocky grin. “I know. I was hoping you might like that.”
“There are a lot of things I like about you. I just wish there weren’t so many things in the way.”
Clay’s expression suddenly turned serious. “I’m hoping I can change that this morning—get rid of some of the baggage…past and present.”
“All right.” Tess let out a long breath. She wasn’t angry any longer, and the absence of the dark fire that had been a constant companion for far too long was exhilarating and a little frightening. She understood now how a person could come to depend on anger to give some kind of meaning to life, but that was not what she wanted to build the rest of hers upon. Tess hesitated, then held out her hand. “Come with me. You’re leaking on the floor.”
Clay took Tess’s hand without the slightest pause, her grasp firm but gentle. Tess rubbed her thumb over the top of Clay’s hand as she led her on a winding path through the house to the kitchen. The subtle rise of Clay’s knuckles and the valleys between her tendons reminded Tess of the rolling countryside around her, enduring and endlessly beautiful. Clay’s skin was warm and slightly rough across the palm. She didn’t just manage the drilling operations, then. Apparently, she did some hard work too.
When they reached the kitchen, Tess pointed to the cast-iron wood-burning stove. “A couple of minutes in front of that will dry out the worst of it. Are you hungry?”
“No,” Clay said, turning her back to the stove. “I had a huge breakfast at Pete Townsend’s not that long ago.”
Surprised, Tess paused getting the cups down from the cabinet. “You met with Pete this morning? After you left here?”
“Yes.” Clay shrugged. “I was too keyed up to sit in the B and B and listen to it rain. Couldn’t take the bike out for a run. So I figured I’d take a run at Pete instead.”
“How did it go?” Tess asked, more conflicted than she’d expected to be. On some fundamental level, she wanted Clay to succeed merely because she was Clay. And she didn’t like the idea of Pete making Clay’s job harder, which of course made no sense, since Pete was essentially standing up for everyone who didn’t want NorthAm drilling in their county. And that included her, at least, she thought it did. “Damn it.”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. You just muddle my head.”
Clay looked annoyingly pleased. “Sorry?”
Tess laughed. “Never mind. You’re an awful liar.”
“My meeting with Pete is part of the reason I’m here,” Clay said.
Digesting that news, Tess poured coffee into two big ceramic mugs and carried them to the table. Even though Clay had said she wasn’t hungry, it was well after noon, and she suspected Clay hadn’t had lunch. Clay looked tired and drawn, and Tess had an overwhelming urge to erase the shadows from beneath her eyes. If she couldn’t do that, she could at least feed her. She quickly assembled a platter of cold cuts and put a loaf of bread in the center of the table on a breadboard along with a knife to cut slices for sandwiches. “Just in case.”
Clay reached for the bread knife. “Come to think of it…”
“Here, I’ll do it.” Tess assembled a couple of sandwiches, enjoying the simple act of preparing a meal for Clay. She could easily get used to it, and for once, she didn’t deny herself the pleasure. They ate to the sound of rain on the slate roof.
A few minutes later, Clay pushed back from the table and sighed. “Thanks for seeing me, Tess.”
“Somehow after last night, thanks seems unnecessary.” Tess folded her napkin carefully and placed it beside her plate, giving herself time to find the right words. “Last night was…I’ve never experienced anything like it. I felt so damn free.”
“I don’t quite know how to describe it, but you’ve always made me feel that way—free.” Clay rubbed her face. “Last night was even more than that…something special, something all unto itself. I felt like we were somewhere out of time—where no one could touch us.”
“I know,” Tess said softly. “I feel the same way, and now it’s gone.”
“Is it?”
Tess stared at her hands. “I don’t know.”
“I think we could find that pla
ce again—every time we touch.” Clay reached across the table and clasped Tess’s hand, entwining their fingers. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I know I fucked up—”
Tess looked up sharply. “Don’t. I don’t want to keep dragging the past around with me, at least not the parts that keep hurting. So I don’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ from you again.”
Clay nodded, her gaze searching Tess’s.
“There are a lot of things I want to say to you.” Tess took a shuddering breath. “But first I have to know—did you know Ray blackmailed your father?”
Clay grew very still. “I suspected there was some kind of deal…” She shook her head. “My father doesn’t share all his dealings with me. In fact, he doesn’t share a lot of things with me. He tells me what he wants me to know, and I suppose I’m partly responsible for not pushing back more.”
“Well, you couldn’t have been responsible for any of this.”
“What did you learn?” Clay asked.
“According to Leslie, who’s representing me legally, by the way, Ray signed the rights to the land away a long time ago. For quite a lot of money.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Even if you had, that wouldn’t have been your fault. You were taken advantage of just as much as me.”
Clay let out a breath. “Thank you.”
“I want to pay it back.”
Clay’s brows came down. “Pay what back?”
“Whatever money Ray took for the drilling rights. I want to pay it back and I want your father to tear up the contract—or whatever the legal term for it is.”
“No.”
Tess straightened, the anger she thought she’d conquered surging through her. “Excuse me?”
“No,” Clay said, her jaw set. “Whatever Ray did, it’s not your responsibility to undo. My father paid Ray, and the money is gone now. Ray either spent it or put it into the farm. You’re not going into debt to pay back what my father willingly paid—he could have fought Ray. We could have fought Ray.”